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demospectator · 2 years ago

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Vineyard workers. Watercolor by Jake Lee (from the collection of the Chinese Historical Society of America).

Chinese Pioneers in California’s Wine Industry

The work by the Chinese is excavating the wine caves for what would become the Buena Vista winery has been well known and researched by the original deans of Chinese American historiography, the late Phil Choy and Him Mark Lai. The story of Chinese participation in building this industry of Sonoma County and California continues to attract the interest of local historians.

In 2018, I toured the BV winery again last year with the executive director of the Chinese Historical Society of America. With a couple exceptions, most of the guides were aware of the provenance of BV’s wine caves. The then-new ownership appears more committed to recounting the substantial contributions made by Chinese labor and engineering staff into the larger history of this landmark winery. Photos of Chinese men working in the fields and bottling wine are displayed in Buena Vista’s tasting room.

“We feel it’s more important than ever to talk about the reason we exist and the people who contributed to it − Chinese, Hungarian, French,” says Jean-Charles Boisset, whose family company, Boisset Collection, a US subsidiary of Boisset, La Famille des Grands Vins (France’s third largest wine holding company and Burgundy’s largest producer), bought BV in 2011.

An 2017 article by NPR food reporter, Grace Hwang Lynch, summarized the labor and the ultimate fate of the Chinese workers whose involvement in virtually all phases of the production literally built a multi-billion dollar industry for Northern California and the US. “In 1857,” Hwang wrote, “a wealthy Hungarian named Agoston Haraszthy purchased a ranch in Sonoma Valley and named it Buena Vista, with the vision of introducing winemaking techniques from his homeland. . . . Haraszthy turned to Ho Po, a Chinese labor contractor from San Francisco, who sent 150 of his countrymen to build Buena Vista, Sonoma's oldest commercial winery.“

Ho Po, a Chinese labor contractor from San Francisco, sent 150 of his countrymen to build Buena Vista. Photographer unknown (courtesy of Buena Vista winery).

The Chinese workers dug a cave network for the BV winery which is actually more extensive than what a causal tour will disclose. However, a couple of the 19th century excavations have collapsed due to past seismic activity.

Chinese labor also dug the caves for other wineries. In 1870, Jacob Schram found new employment for the Chinese laborers who had recently finished constructing tunnels and grades over the Sierra Nevada Mountains for the Union Pacific Transcontinental Railroad.Schram hired them to dig a network of caves through the soft Sonoma Volcanics Formation rock underlying his vineyard. To its credit, the Schramsberg website also acknowledges the Chinese laborers who dug Napa’s first hillside caves for wine-aging and storage.

Chinese and other men bottle sparkling and other wine products at the Buena Vista winery, c. 1880. Photograph by Eadweard Muybridge(from the collection of the Buena Vista winery).

Chinese workers transport wine in front of the main building (which still stands today) at Buena Vista, the oldest winery in California's Sonoma County. Photographer unknown (from the collection of the Buena Vista winery)

In the late 1870′s Hwang recounts, the locals began to drive out the Chinese from Sonoma County’s vineyards through economic boycott or worse.

“1106 -- Buena Vista Vineyard, Sonoma -- Bottling Wine,” no date. Photographer unknown (from the collection of Buena Vista Winery and George Webber).

The experience of the Sonoma County Chinese demonstrates that the aggregate, private violence continued even after the passage of the Chinese Exclusion Act of 1882. Local law enforcement either turned a blind eye or aided such violence, and the decades that straddled 1882 produced an internal migration of nonwhite Americans in the western US that had not been seen since the Trail of Tears (which was essentially done at gunpoint in a military operation), and would not be seen again until the Great Migration of African-Americans from the rural South between 1916 and 1970.

The Chinese would remain in vintners’ workforces into the next century, local conditions permitting. However, the Chinese Exclusion Act of 1882 would continue to exact a toll on the population of laborers, and growers would gravitate toward other groups of agricultural workers.

“Chinese farm workers pruning a vineyard,” c. 1900. Photographer unknown (from the Title Insurance and Trust Collection of the California Historical Society). CHS wrote about this photo in its Spring 1978 quarterly as follows: “Under the watchful eyes of Yankee overseers, Chinese laborers built California’s railroad, reclaimed the Delta, and nursed the state’s infant agriculture, including its vineyards. .

The Chinese pioneers left as their legacy the foundation of a multi-billion dollar industry upon which the economy of California prospers in the 21st century. Even today, researchers and writers continue to coax from the historical record more stories of a vibrant presence in the state’s earliest vineyards.

“The Vintage In California -- At Work At the Wine Presses.” Drawing by Paul Frenzeny (from the Robert B. Honeyman, Jr. Collection of Early Californian and Western American Pictorial Material at the Bancroft Library)

Note about the artist (by Theresa Salazar of the Bancroft Library):

French artist Paul Frenzeny came to North America in the 1860s to serve under Marshal Achille Bazaine, commander of the French expeditionary corps in Mexico, sent to support Napoleon Ill's abortive effort to establish an empire there under Archduke Maximilian of Austria. Sometime before 1868 Frenzeny went to New York City, for between that year and 1873 Harpers Weekly published some twenty of his sketches, showing New York views as well as events in the Mexican war and the Pennsylvania coal fields (Samuels, p. 178).

Harpers commissioned Frenzeny and Jules Tavernier, another Frenchman, to travel across the country and record the landscape in remote, unexplored areas, telling its readers that "these gentle-men will not restrict themselves to the ordinary routes of travel. They will make long excursions on horseback into regions where railroads have not penetrated, where even the hardy squatter, the pioneer of civilization, has not yet erected his rude log-cabin" (Harpers Weekly, November 8, 1873, p. 994). The men left New York in the fall of 1873 and reached San Francisco the following summer, riding horseback from Denver.

Frenzeny apparently stayed on in San Francisco for at least six years and became known for his illustrations and sketches of Chinatown (Hughes, p. 400). He participated in the artistic life of the city and became a member of the new Bohemian Club. His partnership with Tavernier may have ended shortly after the men arrived in San Francisco, for Harper's illustrations of California and Nevada subjects between 1876 and 1878 and in the early eighties were signed by Frenzeny alone. In 1879 Harper's published Central American drawings executed on his journey back to New York. Between 1882 and 1887 Frenzeny's work appeared in Leslie's Weekly. Frenzeny later provided 150 illustrations for Harrington O'Reilly's Fifty Years on the Trail, Frenzeny’s last known publication (1889). The last decade or so of his life is undocumented, but he is believed to have died in London in 1902 (Karolik, 1:163-164; and Hughes, p. 192).

#Chinese winery workers #Chinese labor at Buena Vista winery #Chinese workers for Schram #Chinese in Sonoma County #wine cave excavation #Eadweard Muybridge #Paul Frenzeny

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traipseartist · 4 days ago

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October 14 - 17 - Monaci delle Terre Nere

After being slingshot from Napoli to Catagnia via a the equivalent of a clean, flying jalopy (courtesy of Ryanair) Rose and I would then waltz into the open arms of a tiny Italian limo driver in the ground transportation hub of the airport. A man named Gianni whom we agreed would have been very nice and courteous based on his disposition if he planned on kidnapping us.

In the dark of the back of the cab, Rose and I talked about palm trees, Pompeii, my grandmother Adelaide whose family once hailed from Augusta (a town maybe an hour south of the airport down on the ocean, like every other Sicilian town), and our postulations about the vineyard resort we were heading towards.

Monaci delle Terre Nere translated literally means, "The Monks of the Black Earth." We would come to learn over the course of the next several days (with a steaming, sulfuric Mt. Etna in the near distance) that for hundreds of years, monks, in tribute to their faith, were long growing grapes to make wine on the volcanic-dirt grounds of our visit.

Much like Vesuvius just down the way from Pompeii, the theory of the minerality in volcanic rock making for the best wine would not fail us.

The resort was quiet, the high season having come and gone. The staff seemed tired from a hot, dry, busy summer, but generally gleeful that they only had a handful of guests on the 25 acre estate to mind in the middle of October.

We bumbled up in the dark, that evening, to be ushered into a beautiful ancient barn that had been transformed into reception and the resort's main bar. The exposed rafters and ancient stone that built the cavern of a room gave the air of Medieval. The modern, round, and low furniture upholstered in bold, rich primary colors gave the accidental feeling of what every Google office lobby is likely trying to do, if they only had a cool Italian uncle who wears oversized glasses and leather shoes without socks to design it for them.

We sipped our welcome wine at 9pm while our concierge info-dumped about the estate, our room, the restaurant, the pool, and everything else we would most assuredly not retain in our dizzy and addled state. I let my eyes slide out of focus on a giant bottle of Campari occupying a pedestal in the corner while Rose did the hard job of getting incidentals squared away.

Due to the empty nature of the estate, we were given the biggest room in the house--Rose's fancy and expensive annual-fee Amex card put us in a suite on the farthest throw of the vineyard grounds, just on a hill that faced due east for the sunrise.

We (or mostly I, Rose has experience with these things) clung for our life to the back of a golf cart as they drove us over the cobblestone and steep hills to a beautiful stucco house with a long stone patio. The ceilings were pitched so high, Rose had to work from the sun room (yup, a whole sun room??) because the sound of her typing on her laptop was ricocheting wildly around the entire accommodation if she sat anywhere else.

Over the next few days we would relish not having to pack and unpack. Sicily, being hazy and a comfortable 75F the duration of our stay meant we could easily move across the resort grounds, exploring the rows of grapes and interesting out-buildings they had converted to other suites and private stays. We had our own pool! And were constantly pleasantly surprised with the kind staff, really unfairly delicious food and wine, and the views offered from Monaci.

We did all the basic-ass shit you could imagine. Massages, poolside hangs, horseback riding, a cooking class. I felt like a character on a set. After only a day, all of the staff we ran into knew our names, what room we were staying in, what our day's activities included, and were always eager to ask us about the journey gone by and the road ahead.

On the morning of our departure, a tiny orange cat (that the staff called Garfield because he liked to eat the leftover lasagna from dinner) greeted us at the breakfast table and we stared down at our itinerary that would carry us from a train station down the hill in Acireale onto Palermo.

"You're taking the train?" asked the head chef when we were trying to make noodles with guitar strings. "...yes?" I said, prepared, somehow, for bad news based on his tone. "Bah, that takes forever! It's a three and a half hour drive! And a five hour train ride!" "Yes." I said, suddenly understanding that he didn't know that we, as Americans, very frequently never had a choice. "And it costs 25 Euro per person!"

I had to stifle a laugh. It would cost us a quiet morning on a train and the equivalent of $30 get from what would be the equivalent of Pittsburgh to DC... something I couldn't swing at home in a million years.

"Oh yes," I nodded gravely, sharing half-heartedly in his mild indignity "outrageous. Outrageous indeed."

#travel #etna #sicilia #sicily italy #catania

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tirupatitourpackages · 16 days ago

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How to Save Money on Your Tirupati Trip: Top Tips for Budget Travelers

Visiting Tirupati for a spiritual pilgrimage doesn’t have to break the bank. With smart planning and a few cost-saving strategies, you can make your trip affordable without compromising on comfort or experience. In this guide, we’ll share practical tips to help you travel on a budget, from booking affordable accommodations to saving on transport and meals.

1. Book Accommodation Early for the Best Deals

Tirumala Tirupati Devasthanam (TTD) offers budget accommodations in Tirumala and Tirupati. Rooms are often priced between ₹50-₹1000, depending on the type.

Pro Tip: Book through the TTD official website in advance to get rooms closer to the temple at minimal rates.

Private budget hotels and guest houses in Tirupati also offer deals, especially if you book well in advance on platforms like OYO or Booking.com.

2. Travel by Train or Government Buses

Tirupati is well-connected by trains from cities like Chennai, Bangalore, and Hyderabad. Trains are the cheapest mode of transport, with fares starting as low as ₹300 for sleeper class tickets.

Alternatively, APSRTC buses offer economical travel options. Choose non-AC buses if you want to save more.

If traveling in a group, you can save further by opting for shared taxi services or booking group packages that include transport.

3. Use the Alipiri or Srivari Footpath Routes

Instead of hiring a taxi or bus to Tirumala, walk the scenic footpath routes—Alipiri Mettu or Srivari Mettu. This not only saves transport costs but also offers a unique spiritual experience.

Bonus: Free darshan tokens are provided to pilgrims who trek these paths. These tokens allow you to skip general queues and save time.

4. Choose Free or Low-Cost Darshan Options

Tirumala offers several free darshan options, such as Sarva Darshan, which doesn’t require advance booking. However, you may need to wait longer.

Alternatively, ₹300 Special Entry Darshan tickets are an affordable option that provides quicker access with manageable wait times compared to VIP tickets.

5. Eat at TTD’s Free and Subsidized Canteens

Save on food expenses by eating at the TTD-run Annaprasadam canteens, where free meals are provided to pilgrims.

Many temples around Tirupati also offer free or low-cost prasadam and meals. You can try the famous Tirupati Laddu, available at subsidized prices inside the temple premises.

If dining outside, look for local South Indian eateries that offer budget-friendly meals.

6. Opt for TTD Buses to Get Around

The TTD operates free buses (Dharma Ratham) within Tirumala, helping you move between temples and other sites at no cost.

Use local APSRTC buses in Tirupati for inexpensive transport to nearby attractions like Kapila Theertham and Chandragiri Fort.

7. Explore Free and Low-Cost Attractions Nearby

Apart from the Tirumala temple, several places around Tirupati are either free to visit or charge minimal entry fees.

Kapila Theertham Temple – Free entry.

Silathoranam Rock Garden – ₹20 entry fee.

Sri Venkateswara Zoological Park – Entry fee starts at ₹50.

Use public transport to visit these places to further reduce costs.

8. Book Group or Off-Season Packages

If traveling in a group, look for group travel packages offered by TTD or private operators, which often include transport, meals, and accommodation at discounted rates.

Traveling off-season (except during festivals like Brahmotsavam) ensures lower room rates and fewer crowds, saving both time and money.

9. Carry Essentials to Avoid Extra Expenses

Bring essentials like water bottles, snacks, and medicines to avoid buying these at tourist spots, where prices are higher.

Comfortable shoes, umbrellas, and reusable bags will also come in handy, especially if you’re planning to trek or explore on foot.

10. Avoid Unnecessary Purchases and Souvenirs

While there are many shops selling religious items and souvenirs, keep purchases to a minimum.

If you wish to buy souvenirs, opt for local markets instead of shops near the temple, as they tend to be more expensive.

Conclusion: A Memorable Trip Without the Splurge

With the right planning, your Tirupati trip can be a fulfilling spiritual experience without overspending. Opt for affordable travel, make use of TTD’s free services, and plan your itinerary wisely to cut down on unnecessary expenses. Whether you’re a solo traveler or visiting with family, these tips will help you make the most of your pilgrimage on a budget.

#triptotirupati #tirupatidarshan #spiritualjourney #tirupatibalaji #templetour #tirupati #bangaloretotirupati

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strengervinay · 2 months ago

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Savandurga Trekking Checklist: What to Bring and What to Expect

Savandurga Trek, located approximately 60 kilometres from Bangalore, is one of Asia’s largest monolithic hills. If you’re somebody who loves nature or somebody who wishes for historical education, this track is wonderful and exciting. It is a wonderful amalgamation of thrillseekers and nature lovers.

What to Expect on the Savandurga Trek?

The Savandurga trek distance is 5 kilometres long and takes you through dense forests, rugged terrain, and steep rock faces. It’s a bit challenging trek, so additional preparation is required. The journey starts late at night to reach the peak at sunrise.

Savandurga Hills timings can be varied and wide, however, the ideal time to trek is between 3:00 AM and 12:30 PM to catch the stunning sunrise at the peak.

Universal Adventures’ packages include the following plans and prices.

1. Trek Duration and Timing

Start Time: Friday or Saturday at around 11 PM (Day 1)

End Time: Saturday or Sunday by 1:30 PM (Day 2)

Trek Duration: 1 day and 1 night

Trek Difficulty: Moderate to challenging

Trek Altitude: 4022 feet

Trek Distance: 5 KM

Stay: No stay option, making it a continuous adventure through the night and into the morning.

2. Packages and Pricing

From Bangalore: ₹1,149 per person

From Base Village: ₹899 per person

The Savandurga trek booking includes the following features at the cost given above, which is very cost-friendly and safe.

Meals: 1 breakfast (all vegetarian)

Entry fees and forest permits

Guidance from professional trek leads

Savandurga Hills entry fee is INR 250 for adults and INR 125 for children. And also, forest permits are required, which are included in guided trekking packages.

Trekking Checklist: What to Bring to Savandurga Trek?

Proper preparation can make all the difference in your trekking experience. Here’s a list of essential items you should bring along:

1. Water Bottle

Staying hydrated is crucial, especially during the trek. Carry at least 2 liters of water per person to ensure you don’t run out, especially as the trek can be physically demanding.

2. Snacks

While the package includes breakfast, it’s always a good idea to carry light snacks such as energy bars, fruits, or nuts to keep your energy levels up throughout the trek.

Other items include a backpack, flashlight, sunscreen, appropriate clothing etc.

Itinerary Overview:

Day 1: Overnight Journey

Pickup Time: Approx 11 PM

Board the bus at your designated pickup point in Bangalore. As you journey towards Savandurga, the night sky and the twinkling stars will set the tone for the adventure ahead. Since the journey begins late, it’s advised to have dinner beforehand or bring along packed snacks.

Day 2: Trek to Savandurga Hill

3:00 AM - 7:00 AM: Upon reaching the base village, you’ll attend a briefing session to familiarize yourself with the trek route and team members. Once you’re ready, the trek begins through dense forest paths. The terrain is rugged, but the surrounding beauty is captivating. After about two hours, you’ll reach the peak just in time to witness a stunning sunrise.

7:00 AM - 12:30 PM: After spending time at the peak, taking photos, and enjoying the serene views, you’ll begin the descent back to the base. Once at the base village, you’ll have a hearty breakfast to recharge. After that, it's time to board the bus and head back to Bangalore, ending your adventure with memories that will last a lifetime.

How to Reach Savandurga Trek?

By Air

The nearest airport is Kempegowda International Airport (BLR), located 40 kilometres from the city centre. From there, you can take a taxi or bus to the city.

By Road

Bangalore is well-connected to major cities via state and private buses. The Karnataka State Road Transport Corporation (KSRTC) buses regularly ply to nearby destinations.

By Train

Bangalore City Railway Station (SBC) and Yeswantpur Junction (YPR) are the major railway stations that connect Bangalore with other cities.

Conclusion:

This is the trek that combines adrenaline seekers with nature lovers, and with proper preparation, you are ready to take the leap of faith and have the experience of a lifetime!

#Savandurga Trek #Savandurga Trek distance #Savandurga Trek booking #Savandurga hills timings #Savandurga hills entry fee

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nelsonenginepro · 3 months ago

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The Ultimate Guide to Planning a Stag Do in Bucharest

Planning a stag do in Bucharest is an adventure of its own. This Eastern European gem offers a thrilling mix of vibrant nightlife, historical landmarks, and adrenaline-pumping activities, making it a top destination for an unforgettable stag party. Whether you’re looking for wild nights out or something more laid-back, Bucharest has it all. This guide will walk you through the essential steps to plan the perfect bachelor party in Bucharest.

1. Organize Centrally-Located Accommodation

Your first step in planning a stag do in Bucharest is to secure accommodation in the city center. Opt for areas like Calea Victoriei, Piața Unirii, or Piața Universității. Staying in these prime locations will put you within walking distance of the city's hottest bars, clubs, and restaurants, making it easy to dive into the action as soon as you arrive.

2. Best Times to Visit Bucharest

Timing is crucial when planning your trip. The best times to visit Bucharest are from March to June and September to December. During these months, the weather is pleasant, and the city is bustling with activity. However, it's wise to avoid the summer months (July and August) when the city tends to be quieter as locals leave for holidays. To get the most out of your trip, plan for at least a three-day weekend.

3. Hire a Specialised Party Planner

To make your stag do stress-free and fun, consider hiring a specialised party planner like Bucharest 2Night. They know the city inside out and can arrange everything from nightlife experiences to transportation, saving you time and ensuring that everything goes smoothly.

4. Don’t Miss a Weekend Bar Crawl

A bar crawl is a must for any stag in Bucharest. The city is famous for its eclectic nightlife, offering everything from cozy pubs to high-energy nightclubs. A guided bar crawl will help you discover the best spots, ensuring that your group hits the most happening places in town.

5. Opt for Private Transportation

Navigating Bucharest with a large group can be challenging, so it's best to opt for private transportation for all your activities and airport-hotel transfers. This will give you peace of mind and allow your group to travel together comfortably, without the hassle of public transport.

6. Plan a Fancy Night Out

For a touch of luxury, plan a fancy night out at one of Bucharest's top restaurants followed by a visit to an exclusive nightclub. Consider booking a VIP BUCHAREST CLUBBING, where you can enjoy bottle service, private tables, and party like a rock star.

7. Mix Adrenaline Activities with Relaxation

A well-rounded stag does include a mix of high-energy activities and relaxation. Consider adding some adrenaline-pumping activities like paintball, go-karting, or a shooting range to your itinerary. Balance these with more relaxing options like a day at Therme Bucharest, the largest spa in Europe, a leisurely city tour, or catching a football game. This way, everyone in the group can enjoy something that suits their vibe.

8. Explore the City by Foot

Bucharest is a city rich in history and architecture, best explored on foot. Take some time to wander through the streets and soak in landmarks like the Palace of the Parliament, Old Town, and Herastrau Park. You’ll be amazed by the blend of modernity and tradition that defines this city.

9. Don’t Overload Your Schedule

When planning your activities, remember that less is more. Avoid overloading your schedule with too many events. Instead, focus on quality experiences and ensure you have plenty of downtime. A good rule of thumb is to plan two daytime activities and one nighttime activity per day. This relaxed pace will keep everyone happy and avoid unnecessary stress.

Conclusion

Bucharest is an ideal destination for a stag do, offering everything from wild nights out to cultural and relaxing activities. By following this guide, you can plan a balanced and memorable trip that everyone in your group will enjoy. Remember to stay flexible, take time to enjoy the city, and most importantly, have a blast!

FAQs

1. What is the average cost of a stag do in Bucharest?The cost can vary, but Bucharest is known for being budget-friendly compared to other European cities, offering great value for money.

2. Is it necessary to hire a party planner for a stag do in Bucharest?While not necessary, hiring a party planner like Bucharest 2Night can take a lot of stress out of the planning process, especially if you want a seamless experience.

3. What should we include in our Bucharest stag do itinerary?A mix of bar crawls, adrenaline activities, and relaxation, with plenty of time to explore the city, makes for a well-rounded itinerary.

4. Is Bucharest safe for a stag do?Yes, Bucharest is generally safe for tourists, but it's always a good idea to stay aware of your surroundings, especially at night.

5. How can we get around the city easily?Private transportation is the most convenient option, but Bucharest also has a reliable public transport system, including buses, trams, and the metro.

#bachelor party in Bucharest #Stag do in Bucharest

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blogerbro01 · 4 months ago

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Explore the Marvels of Mumbai: City Sightseeing Tours

Highlights of Mumbai City Sightseeing Tours

Gateway of India:

Begin your tour at the iconic Gateway of India, a majestic monument that stands as a symbol of Mumbai’s colonial past. Marvel at its grandeur and soak in the bustling atmosphere of the waterfront promenade.

Elephanta Caves:

Embark on a ferry ride to the UNESCO World Heritage Site of Elephanta Caves, located on Elephanta Island in Mumbai Harbor. Explore the ancient rock-cut caves adorned with intricate sculptures and marvel at the craftsmanship of bygone eras.

Marine Drive:

Take a leisurely drive along Marine Drive, also known as the Queen’s Necklace, and admire the sweeping arc of the promenade lined with glittering city lights. Experience the mesmerizing sunset views over the Arabian Sea that make this waterfront stretch truly magical.

Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj Terminus (CST):

Formerly known as Victoria Terminus, CST is a UNESCO World Heritage Site and a masterpiece of Victorian Gothic architecture. Admire its intricate facades, towering domes, and exquisite detailing that reflect Mumbai’s rich architectural heritage.

Dhobi Ghat:

Witness the bustling activity at Dhobi Ghat, the world’s largest outdoor laundry where thousands of dhobis (washermen) tirelessly wash and dry clothes in the traditional manner. Gain insight into this unique aspect of Mumbai’s daily life.

Crawford Market:

Immerse yourself in the vibrant atmosphere of Crawford Market, a bustling bazaar renowned for its eclectic array of goods, from fresh produce to handicrafts. Experience the sensory overload as you navigate through its bustling lanes filled with colorful stalls and aromatic spices.

Why Choose Mumbai City Sightseeing Tours with Magical Mumbai Tours?

Expert Guides:

Enjoy the services of knowledgeable local guides who provide fascinating insights into Mumbai’s history, culture, and architecture. Their expertise ensures a memorable and informative tour experience.

Comfortable Transportation:

Travel in comfort and style with well-maintained vehicles equipped with modern amenities. Sit back, relax, and enjoy the sights as you explore the city’s diverse neighborhoods and landmarks.

Tailored Itineraries:

Choose from a variety of tour packages tailored to suit your interests, time constraints, and budget. Whether you prefer a half-day excursion or a full-day adventure, there’s a tour package for everyone.

Safety and Convenience:

Rest assured of safety and convenience throughout your tour, with professional drivers and hassle-free logistics provided by Magical Mumbai Tours. Focus on enjoying the sights while they take care of the rest.

Planning Your Mumbai City Sightseeing Tour

Book in Advance: Secure your spot on the tour by booking in advance, especially during peak travel seasons.

Pack Essentials: Bring along essentials such as sunscreen, sunglasses, comfortable footwear, and a camera to capture memories.

Stay Hydrated: Keep hydrated throughout the tour by carrying water bottles and staying refreshed.

Respect Local Customs: Be respectful of local customs and traditions when visiting religious sites or interacting with locals.

Conclusion

Embark on a journey of discovery and exploration with Mumbai Private Tour guide by Magical Mumbai Tours. Whether you’re a history enthusiast, a culture buff, or simply a curious traveler, these tours offer an immersive experience that showcases the best of Mumbai’s past, present, and future. Prepare to be enchanted by the city’s vibrant energy, architectural marvels, and rich cultural tapestry as you embark on a memorable adventure through the streets of Mumbai.

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magicalmumbai-0 · 6 months ago

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The Ultimate Guide to Exploring Mumbai: Tips for a Memorable Private Tour

Mumbai, the pulsating heart of India, is a city of dreams, contrasts, and ceaseless energy. Known for its iconic skyline, bustling bazaars, and a rich tapestry of history and culture, Mumbai offers an experience unlike any other. For those looking to dive deep into the essence of this vibrant city, a private tour is your gateway to an intimate exploration. Here’s your ultimate guide to making the most of your Mumbai private tour.

Why Choose a Private Tour?

A private tour of Mumbai allows you to explore the city at your own pace and according to your own interests. Whether you’re a history buff, a foodie, or a photography enthusiast, private tours can be customized to cater to your preferences, giving you a more personal and fulfilling experience. Moreover, with a local guide, you gain insights and access to spots that might otherwise be overlooked.

Planning Your Tour: What to Know Before You Go

Best Time to Visit: Mumbai is best visited between November and February when the weather is cooler and more pleasant. The monsoon season from June to September is less ideal due to heavy rains that could affect your tour schedules.

Dress Appropriately: Given Mumbai’s humid climate, it’s advisable to wear light, breathable clothing. Respect local culture, especially when visiting religious sites, by dressing modestly.

Stay Hydrated: Always carry a bottle of water with you to stay hydrated, especially if you’re touring around during the day.

Must-Visit Attractions

The Gateway of India: No trip to Mumbai is complete without a visit to this historic arch that stands as a testament to India’s colonial past.

Chhatrapati Shivaji Terminus: A UNESCO World Heritage Site, this historic railway station is a marvel of Victorian Gothic architecture.

Elephanta Caves: Located just off the coast, these rock-cut caves dating back to the 5th century offer a peaceful retreat from the city’s hustle.

Local Bazaars: From the bustling lanes of Crawford Market to the vibrant stalls of Colaba Causeway, Mumbai’s markets are perfect for those looking to dive into the local shopping scene.

Personalizing Your Experience

Culinary Adventures: Ask your guide to include local eating spots in your itinerary. Mumbai’s street food, including delicacies like vada pav and pav bhaji, offers flavors that capture the city’s spirit.

Photography Walks: For photography enthusiasts, early morning walks through areas like Bandra or along Marine Drive offer beautiful light and lively street scenes.

Cultural Deep Dive: Include visits to local artisans or a Bollywood studio tour to see Mumbai’s cultural diversity up close.

Navigating the City

While Mumbai’s charm is undeniable, it's also known for its daunting traffic. Opting for a private tour means you can avoid the stress of navigating public transport. Moreover, your guide can help you understand local etiquettes and customs, ensuring a smoother experience.

Safety Tips

While Mumbai is generally safe for tourists, standard precautions should be observed. Keep your valuables secure, be cautious of your surroundings, and always follow your guide’s advice, especially in crowded areas.

Conclusion

A private tour in Mumbai is more than just a sightseeing trip; it’s a deep dive into the heart of India’s most dynamic city. With the right planning and a good guide, you can uncover the stories and experiences that make Mumbai truly magical. Remember, every alley and street corner of Mumbai has a story to tell, and with these tips, you’re all set to discover them.

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winelimos · 26 days ago

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Napa & Sonoma Valley's Finest Wine Country Transportation for Exotic Wine Tours

Enjoy the greatest wine country transportation available, with first-rate services that will make your wine tour in Napa and Sonoma Valley even more memorable. Wine country transportation guarantees that your trip through California's most renowned wineries is as smooth and pleasurable as the tastings themselves. They offer luxurious vehicles that range from limos to private SUVs. These transportation options offer the utmost comfort and convenience, enabling you to kick back, unwind, and completely take in the breathtaking scenery of the area—perfect for a romantic getaway, a group excursion, or a corporate retreat. You may visit the best vineyards in Napa and Sonoma without worrying about getting lost or missing the amazing views when you have experienced and friendly drivers at your disposal.

#travel packages to napa valley california #napa wine country vacation packages #Private Wine Tour Transportation Service #Wedding Shuttle Transportation #Bottle Rock Shuttle Transportation Service

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wpbcarandlimo · 2 years ago

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minimel-fics · 3 years ago

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Broken Bells

Bishop Losa X OC Chapter 14: Puppy Dog Eyes

Tumblr really hates my Canadian spelling 👀

Masterlist

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Annabelle pulled onto the gravel lot at nearly a snail's pace in an effort to stop rocks from flying up and chipping her paint further than it was, she was unable to hold back her winces as her attempt proved to be futile. She spotted Chucky as he stepped out of the small office space he found himself manning on most days, the man sent her a smile and an enthusiastic wave with his prosthetic fingers. She parked the car off to the side of the office, ensuring that she was not blocking the poor excuse of a roadway or in anyone's way before she stepped her sneaker clad feet out of the car. Reaching in through the open window she collected the black sunglasses that Angel had once leant her from their spot as they hung off the rearview mirror before slipping them over her eyes to block out the bright desert sun. Her dark eyes skimmed the lot as she approached Chucky, her sight being drawn to the empty area where the Mayans usually parked their motorcycles in a rather neat looking line, they must have gotten caught up longer than expected in the business they had to deal with that morning.

“How are you doing, Chucky? Like your new job?”

“I am quite content, Ms. Annabelle.” Chucky smiled before he nodded toward the clubhouse, “Bishop has not made it back yet, you can await him inside.”

“Thanks, Chucky.”

Annabelle frowned as she entered the empty clubhouse. Bishop had told her that an impromptu party had been thrown the night before but she had not expected the place to still be such a mess, usually the women that hung around would clean or even Chucky but she figured he had enough on his plate while handling the scrapyard alone the past few hours. Empty beer bottles lined the bar and scattered across the tables, the strong scent of sweat, beer and stale cigarettes hung in the air causing her to scrunch her nose. She could feel her sneakers sticking to the floor with every step as someone had spilled a sticky beverage then improperly cleaned it leaving the wood with a lingering residue. Annabelle hummed to herself as she began to collect the empty bottles and used glasses off the tables, stacking the cups into two small towers as she tossed the bottles into a bag for recycling. After a short search of the clubhouse for any cleaning supplies- which she had found tucked into a small closet just across from the bathroom, she hooked her phone up the subpar sound system before hitting shuffle on her favorite cleaning playlist.

Bishop unhooked his helmet and balanced it on his bike before he shed his riding gloves, grumbling to himself as he stuffed them into his pocket. The product transport had gone well that morning, as it had been for months now but Galindo himself had decided that he wanted to attend the handoff which had caused them some serious delays and though he had not looked at a clock for many hours now he knew that he was late to his promise to Annabelle. He had spotted her car on the way in and judging from the ridiculously loud music that was pumping from the clubhouse that was where he would find her. He shook his head to himself as he led the rest of the charter up the porch steps, wondering how on earth someone could stand constantly listening to music on what had to be the highest volume level possible. Bishop raised his eyebrows as he watched Annabelle carry a case of beer with her eyes closed as she jammed out to the song that was playing, unaware of their presence as she could not hear them over the music.

“Damn girl, how do you have eardrums?” Gilly questioned, rubbing his ears as he lowered the volume to become a low hum of background noise. Annabelle’s eyes shot open as she discovered she had an audience before she sent the man a disapproving look.

“The louder the better, especially when it comes to the Beastie Boys.” Annabelle dropped the case of beer onto the bar, sending Gilly a nod, “Since you crashed my private party, you can load the fridge.”

Bishop smirked before he gestured toward the bar, “You heard the lady, get to work.”

“Did you clean this place all by yourself?” Taza inquired, settling himself into one of the empty chairs.

“My shoes were sticking to the floor, I feared that if I stood in one place too long that I would never be able to leave.”

“You say that like it would be a bad thing.” Angel scoffed, rounding the bar to collect himself a beer.

“Thank you, Annabelle.” Taza showed his appreciation with a smile before glancing around to the other bikers with a suggestive glance.

“Thank you, Annabelle.” They repeated in unison like a class of first graders that had been scolded by their teacher after not presenting enough enthusiasm.

“You are very welcome but don’t get used to it, clean up after yourselves, neither the hang-arounds nor I happen to be your mother.” Annabelle scolded as she circled around the bar, the bikers all amused at the pep in her step as she came to a stop in front of Bishop, smiling at him with the most innocent eyes she could muster. “You ready to go, babe?”

Annabelle had insisted on taking the driver's seat, it was her car after all, but it caused Bishop to start to doubt his decision to provide her with a car that was able to push limits when it came to speed- the woman's foot seemed to be made of pure lead. Bishop found himself tempted to kiss the ground when they reached the shelter, he was used to reaching high speeds on his bike but even Annabelle’s speeds had made him nervous.

Annabelle sighed as her dark eyes scanned the building. It had been so many years since she had been there but the time she had spent there was burned into her mind.

“You good, sweetheart?” Bishop asked, stepping up to her side when he noticed her disconnected behavior. He knew that the shelter doubled as a detox centre and based upon her sudden hesitancy he assumed that she had spent some time in the backroom at some point. He gently took her hand in his own, his thumb softly running over the back of her hand to help bring her comfort. “Let’s get you a dog, a big dog, not one of those little yappy fuckers.”

“Oh yeah, adopt a poor dog and train it into a ready to attack anyone guard dog- it's for reasons like that people label Pit Bulls and other large dogs as vicious breeds. It’s not a guard dog, just a companion for when you’re stuck on a run.”

Puppy dog eyes- something that Annabelle would often mimic in order to swing things in her favor but after pacing up and down the narrow corridor with dozens of puppy dog eyes pleading with her to take them home she vowed to herself that it would no longer be a tactic she would use. A golden retriever, a labradoodle, a dachshund, a springer spaniel… the list went on and she was stuck, if she had her way she would take them all home but Bishop had quickly curbed that impulse.

“There is one more dog,” Sarah, the woman who was in charge broke Annabelle out of her thoughts, “He’s just a baby so I wasn’t planning on letting anyone adopt him yet but I think he might be a perfect match for you.”

Sarah had recognized Annabelle from her time spent there immediately but no one spoke a word of the past occurrence. Annabelle’s presence had stuck with Sarah all these years later because she had a certain drive to come clean and improve her life even though she carried such a heavy sadness on her shoulders at the time- she could honestly say that seeing her still clean gave her a twinge of happiness. Bishop had been patient with Annabelle, allowing her all the time she needed to choose her animal companion and he would not admit it to anyone but he was growing tired of waiting for her to make a choice which is why he felt such a strong sense of relief when Sarah brought out the puppy.

“A Saint Bernard? He’s so tiny.” Annabelle immediately took the fluffy brown and white pup into her arms, greeting the puppy by scratching it between its floppy ears as it attempted to cover her face with slobbery licks.

“He’s only a month old. He was found abandoned in an alley and brought here last week.” Sarah explained, smiling as she gently patted the dog's head.

“Look at him, Obispo, isn’t he so precious?” Annabelle asked, altering her voice into a goofier, baby-like tone as she held the small dog out for the Mayan to get a better look. “Can we adopt him? Please?” Annabelle pleaded with Bishop, going back on her self promise to not put puppy dog eyes to use. The Mayans President chuckled at her behavior, she did not need to use such eyes on him as he would quickly cave and give her anything she ever wanted in that moment.

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counterpunches · 4 years ago

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End (Beginning Movement)

Fandom: The Haunting of Bly Manor Pairing: Dani Clayton/Jaime Taylor Rating: T Wordcount: 4,137 Note: all the thanks to the incredible @foomatic for being a fantastic beta and even better friend. so much so that she actual recorded herself reading the story to help ID and fix all the tenses to make it coherent and then just straight up turned it into a podfic set to the show's musical score. Its way cooler than I ever thought it'd be, so feel free to please check it out here

Summary: If standing silently and bearing witness was all Jamie could do, she gladly took the weight of it if it meant one less thing for Dani to carry. Jamie coiled it tight back into herself and created her own waiting, lurking beast. Jamie was quiet with her rage for a while, until she was shaking with it. Until it threatened to explode out of her skin like a bomb and she wouldn’t ever - ever - let Dani come close to the shrapnel. Instead she was the steady rock that Dani needed and imploded later, somewhere else, somewhere safe. She just wanted to fucking break something. Couldn’t get her hands on the Lady, couldn’t pull her out of Dani, so she had to find the next best thing.

Also on AO3

It was easy, Jamie thought, as her head pounded and temple throbbed.

Well, not so much now, at this moment, with a hangover thundering out a pulse on the timpani of her skull as she clung to the toilet like a lover in the night. Every joint and muscle aches, a combination of sleeping half slumped over in the bathroom, age, and the consequences of booze. She leans back with a groan, back twinging, shoulders popping, and as nausea roils, takes a few deep breaths to settle her stomach. Evidently spending the rest of last night praying to the porcelain god didn’t buy her any grace today.

But in general, it was easier, spending the night chasing the bottom of a pint glass, in a way nothing else was these days. Christ, even breathing was hard. Been hard since the day her lungs fought for surface despite her best intentions. Been burning with it, since, taking in air in a world that Dani Clayton no longer existed in.

The water refused to take her, so she’d found another way to drown.

So yeah. It was easy, sliding into bad habits like an forgotten favorite jacket. A glass of wine became a bottle. What was one or two nights to forget against a million more? A bottle quickly became too slow. Why waste time, Jamie thought, chasing one cup after another? Best to jump straight to the hard stuff, then.

Jamie never beat around the bush before, seemed no point in starting now, her bluntness having been softened over the years by Dani’s love. The very edges of her ebbed into the waters of an ocean that was no longer there. Jamie was parched. She was so thirsty. So she drank.

Wrong kind of love can fuck you up. Right one can, too.

Just as bad, really.

Worse, if you’re lucky.

Love and possession may be opposites, but Jamie had given her heart away a long time ago and she didn’t know how to keep it beating when it was no longer hers. Everything she was had already been given over to Dani. Given eagerly. Freely. Like all things best loved are. And that’s the thing about a freed thing, isn’t it? Doesn't come back just because you want it to. Just because you miss it.

This part of her - it isn’t peaceful, Dani had said. And Jamie had understood.

Understood in blood and bone, in the way something so small and insignificant can snap. Remembers how rage can end with kneeling in a rain-soaked alleyway, groaning from an ass kicking she probably deserved, probably was searching for, blood trickling down from a split eyebrow. Remembered how she grimaced, the twinge in her ribs matching the bitter taste of metal in her mouth, but it’d hurt and there was a sick measure of comfort in that; making part of the world match the brokenness inside her.

So yeah. She knew rage. Recognized it. Hated that something so ugly and angry and raw resided inside of Dani, something that couldn’t possibly exist naturally - there wasn’t an atom of that kind of violence in Dani’s body. She wouldn’t give into the wrath, Jamie knew even then, in the cradle of knowing her. Dani would never. And the unfairness of her having to suffer through the struggle of it anyway made the part of Jamie that resonated in recognition with Viola burn.

It’s you. It’s me. It’s us, the rage said, taunting her through the fissures of Dani’s struggle.

It was all she could do to hold it in that day, her teeth cracking under the weight of it, in the horrible quiet of the room as Dani confessed. As she gave voice to the terrible truth that now resided in her. She’s waiting, Dani had whispered. If standing silently and bearing witness was all Jamie could do, she gladly took the weight of it if it meant one less thing for Dani to carry. Jamie coiled it tight back into herself and created her own waiting, lurking beast.

And Jamie knew from past experience that the only way to control the beast was to let it out of captivity from time to time. To let the monster run wild and exhaust itself so she could wrestle it back into the cage.

The rage festered. Jamie felt it rumbling deep in her chest.

So when Dani finally left the room with a shaky determination (“Better find out what those kids are getting up to,"), Jamie knew she had to let it breathe.

No one would remember where the dent in the wall came from. It was chalked up as an accident, caused by one of the many pieces of furniture having knocked into things on its way out to the moving truck. Jamie had to hold in the scream that broiled inside and searched for a safer place for it to land.

She still had to walk by that fucking lake to get to the greenhouse.

Under cover of the potted sanctum, Jamie let loose the beast. Anger clawed, scratching out her throat. The greenhouse was excellent at absorbing sound, plants and leaves shaking with the echoes of her cries, and if Jamie’s voice seemed a little hoarse, it was easy enough to blame it on something else. Easy enough, to explain away her split knuckles on mis-gauging the distance while bringing one of the heavier boxes outside. Or scraping it against some gravel. Or anything other than slamming her fist into the wall again and again and again.

It was new though, needing to find ways to hide it from Dani. Never had to hide it from anyone before. She used to display her beast proudly, a mark of pride that said ‘don’t fuck with us.’ Didn’t have to hide her beast in prison, either. Everyone had one of their own; it was why they’d all ended up there in the first place. More than a few learned how to deal with it in therapy. Jamie tamed hers in the jungle of a garden.

Not a single part of her looked in the rear view mirror as they drove away. Would never have stopped the truck if it could’ve kept Dani safe. So she did what little she could do. All the fear, the terror that already threatened to split Dani further in two, the new shell of a person Dani had to live with, Jamie took it from her. Buried it deep within herself, felt it so that Dani wouldn’t have to. Drew out the poison from Dani’s soil and into her own roots.

And then, in her most private moments - few and far between, really, for there was nothing unshared between them - Jamie let out the venom, the resentment, the fury, that she collected. Outrage that the world dared spin, indifferent to the unfairness of it all.

She just wanted to fucking break something. Couldn’t get her hands on the Lady, couldn’t pull her out of Dani, so she had to find the next best thing.

Viola was quiet in her rage. Jamie wasn’t with hers. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. She was, for a while, at least.

That first year was full of small moments: the way Dani’s shoulders would never fully relax, tension rarely leaving her body, even in sleep. How she kept looking over her shoulder at rest stops and gas stations, as if the Lady were a drifter, following them on the highways, across states, through the unfolding ribbon of their adventure. Jamie found she could cover up those incidents with the smug satisfaction of having bested the unavoidable for another day. Another week. Another month.

Her demon was dormant for a good long while, in the solace of Dani’s love. Dormant like Viola’s fucking ghost, it turned out. Things were so good for so long, it almost seemed to purr, content in it’s hibernation.

Jamie’s beast woke with a sudden and curious start, after that night in the kitchen after Paris. Started to sniff, hungry for any little scrap. Found too many for comfort - the way Dani started to wake up earlier, as if perhaps she hadn’t slept at all; how it would take her just a moment longer to turn off the water; the times Jamie had to repeat Dani’s name until she jerked, as if suddenly finding herself transported somewhere new - it began pacing in its cage, hungry now, banging on the bars.

Jamie was quiet with her rage for a while, until she was shaking with it. Until it threatened to explode out of her skin like a bomb and she wouldn’t ever - ever - let Dani come close to the shrapnel. Instead she was the steady rock that Dani needed and imploded later, somewhere else, somewhere safe.

She could see how close to the edge Dani was, on some days. How it seemed even the barest breeze would blow her from herself entirely, leaving an empty, unblinking husk behind. It was all Jamie could do to steer her back from the cliff each time.

Jamie had to coax Dani back to the world, breathe life into her lips some mornings as she stared into the ceiling, eyes open and blank; her very own Sleeping Beauty. Each time it felt like a kiss goodbye. Stay with me. Please. Come back to me. A miracle, when she did, even if Dani slipped further and further away each time like a boat on the horizon. Jamie would stroke her face with trembling hands, afraid even the gentlest touch would cause the delicate thing to disintegrate beneath the pads of her fingers.

Dani always came first. Even as Jamie’s own creature grew stronger and louder, she held it in. Found controlled environments to let it run wild.

There was something oddly comforting about the alleyway. There’s a familiar landscape all back alleys share - brick, concrete, dumpster, a car or two, usually a fair amount of scattered garbage, and the near ubiquitous empty, overturned storage crates used by the weary for smoke breaks or breakdowns of all shapes and sizes - an alley was an alley was an alley.

The only thing that marked it as theirs was a few hanging ferns on the corner of the doorway. Something to signal the threshold, announce the life bursting and growing just inside. Something growing in the barren landscape of a back alley. Something to remind a younger Jamie of what could lie on the other side, if she stood long enough to reach up for it.

So she destroyed things in the alleyway. When the cruelty of the matter absolutely broke her - when Jamie had to sew the fraying pieces of Dani back together because Viola was slowly pulling the seams of her apart; when she desperately scooped handfuls of Dani even as she was slipping through her fingers like sand - Jamie would break something else.

Jamie took her rage, and smashed it against the brick or asphalt in a shower of pottery in the alleyway. Pots, planters, saucers, she grabbed damaged items from the shop and broke them even further, until her chest heaved and panted from the effort of it in the shards under her feet. When the alley wasn’t a possibility and her screams of frustration and the clatter of smashing ceramic would would threaten to draw Dani out from the thinning fragility of their life together, Jamie would punch bags of soil in the storage room until the they burst, earth pouring to the floor, and leaving her standing in a shallow grave of her own making.

Nothing to hide, once Dani is gone.

Easier to get lost in the anger, and Jamie let it consume her like an uncontrolled blaze until nothing but ash remained. Fitting, she thought, for the daughter of a coal miner. It came to claim her, pulling her into itself, not to grow, not to nourish, but to press her into something that burned. And oh, she burned.

It would scare her, she thought, that she hadn’t changed. In all this time, in all these years, underneath the layers of soil and earth, below the roots, the same creature lurked in the dirt of Jamie’s own jungle. A monster that threatened to take her too. That she wished would. A demon of wrath and anger. Of pain and suffering and the shit end of the stick every time.

Despite the years, despite the love and relative calm that settled over her life - since gardening, since Dani - she was still the same enraged, lost, thing. Every living thing comes from every dying thing and it’s natural and she knows that but what she didn’t understand is how to keep living when the core of you is already dead; how was it possible for these two things to co-exist at once. The impossibility of the thing. The decaying mortality. This unholy living. Feels unnatural.

Jamie couldn’t breathe. She couldn't, she couldn’t-

And there, there it was. Specks of dried toothpaste on the mirror. It shouldn’t have been the thing to undo her. After all, it could’ve been hers or Dani’s. But it could have been. Dani’s. Such a casual, mundane thing - a flick of the wrist, rinsing off the toothbrush, spitting into the drain - leaving behind a stain. A mark. Something to be thoughtlessly wiped off and cleaned later, leaving no sign it had once been there. No indication someone had been there at all. No impression of a life built together, their hips casually leaning against one another while flossing, or the yelp of surprise at the shock of cold water after flushing the toilet while the other is in the shower. The apology that came after, sliding through the shower curtain to make it up to them, a tongue sliding into the folds of their ear, hands slipping down to the folds of thighs, into slicks of wet and warm. The absolute mess on the floor afterwards of errant water sloshing out the tub.

The tub.

The floor.

The water that had taken them both. The water that refused to take Jamie.

Not the water, she corrected. Dani. Dani, who refused to take Jamie along on one last adventure. Do you want company? She had asked, all those years ago. Can I walk by your side? Will you take me with you?

And there it was - her beast - clawing up her spine, smashing with a roar into the mocking mirror pane. Again she roared, again she cried, until a dozen fractured shards were all that was left of the toothpaste, left of Jamie’s broken heart, all that was left of Dani. Again and again she struck the mirror until the pain from her bleeding knuckles pulled her out of it and she sank, depleted, sobbing on the floor.

So she drank.

And got into more than a few fights while she was at it. Needed a better opponent than flower pots and dirt, though - she’d already destroyed a decent part of the shop. She needed something to twist her fists into, something that would punch back, something that would make her hurt.

When she drove home, she’d try to ignore the voice in her head that sounded so much like Dani (“You could kill somebody, Jamie. Jesus!”) she almost veered off the road looking at the passenger’s side.

Left the fucking mirror in the bathroom where it was, a broken and half empty self-portrait. Tossed the glass in the bin and swept it away where the edges of a life that no longer existed wouldn’t cut her. Pleased there was nothing to look at getting ready in the mornings, nothing to catch her eye stepping out of the shower, nothing to reflect. Nothing to look at. Nothing at all.

And so it stayed as the weeks wore on. The medicine cabinet pulled open for badly needed aspirin after a particularly rough night or tougher morning, band-aids for the cuts on her knuckles, no mirror on the outside to mock the bruises on her cheek or the split eyebrow from what might have been a night of bad choices but were the only ones that seem to make sense anymore.

The only thing that helped ease the ever-throbbing, dull ache from every corner of her heart was to press the hurt. A walking bruise, Jamie desperately sought solace to cauterize the bleeding wound of loss.

The less Jamie had to look herself in the eye for it, the better.

Which left her here: waking up on the bathroom floor, slouched over the toilet, curls of hair plastered on her cheek from a substance she can only assume to be last night’s dried vomit.

Left here, on the bathroom floor, as empty and hollow as Dani had been in what turned out to be her final few days.

Left here, left behind.

If Jamie squints, she can almost see the glimmer of Dani, twinkling like fairy lights on the tile.

But the longer Jamie sits there, legs growing numb from her cramped position, the sparkle doesn’t go away. Matter of fact, it starts to get annoying. She swats at it, trying to suffer her grief and hangover in peace.

She pulls her hand back with a hiss. The light has an edge to it. It bites.

A piece of the shattered mirror. Must’ve been there for weeks now, having fallen behind the toilet, forgotten. Jamie holds it carefully, staring at the broken reflection of her face for a long time. Stares until it stares back. Until the beast, she realizes finally, the one who has stalked her her whole life, has quietly slinked away. She listens for it - the telltale heat of it simmering just under her skin. But she doesn’t feel anything.

The unfairness of it all remains. But there’s something else in the emptiness, she realizes.

Dani.

There’s a chance - far fucking fetched, she knows - but a chance that maybe, just maybe, the emptiness will stare back. And it will look like someone she loved. Loves, she corrects. Loving Dani will always be in the present. Jamie, crumpled on the floor, bleeding from an aching heart, will always be surrounded by the ghost of Dani. Haunted by a life built and shared and grown. A life taken. Cut short. A leafling, snipped from the vine at the most beautiful stage of maturation. Haunted, sure. But not alone. Something to be said for the chance that Dani will appear.

Jamie will be haunted by Dani for the rest of her days regardless, she knows, phantom or no. Might as well wait, Jamie thinks wryly, got a lot to tell her off for.

She spent more than a few years living with ghosts, anyway. Only difference is, this time she’ll be aware of it. Besides, no one else she’d rather be haunted by. It was Dani forever. Said as much herself that day in the shop. I’ve got a problem, Poppins. Dani would always be it for her. And some problems can’t be fixed. Can only sit and learn to live with them like old friends.

So Jamie scrapes herself off the floor. She shuffles to the kitchen to grab the broom and sweeps the broken pieces of the last few broken months into the bin, cautious of the edges this time.

She gets dressed. Puts away the bottles. Collects the half-eaten take out containers and napkins that litter the apartment. Takes out the trash. Waters the plants. Prunes the dead leaves. Repots herself and let her roots overcome the shock of replanting, remembering the work of living.

Drives to the hardware store and buys a replacement panel for the bathroom. Mounts it in the frame, reverently touching the mirror’s edges. Because if there’s a chance, even a single chance - weeks, months, years from now - that Jamie’s personal ghost will come back to haunt her, she doesn’t want to miss a second of it. Doesn’t want to risk being too drunk, face down in a toilet somewhere, too angry to remember seeing Dani’s face. Doesn’t want Dani seeing that.

Doesn’t want it all to be for nothing, hiding her secret beast for all those years. Having worked so hard to make sure Dani never saw that part of her, the one who went wild and feral, hissing and clawing at the world and it’s indifference. Never wanted to let her beast get close to Dani, close enough to scratch. Not Dani, who struggled so hard to keep tame her own demons.

She’d be a rather shit wife if she started now. Just because Dani was gone doesn’t mean Dani wouldn’t see.

Doesn’t mean it’s easy though, either. It’s hard. Hardest fucking thing she’s ever done, since pulling herself out of that lake when all she had wanted to do was drown in it. That wasn’t difficult, that was instinct. This will be a choice. Every day, for the rest of her life, will be a choice. One she has to make again and again.

Jamie longingly traces the pair of earrings lazily forgotten, left out on top of the dresser, in a bygone act of normalcy to be left now in memoriam, and pulls out one of Dani’s favorite shirts from the drawer, that awful slinky pink one that snagged on every last thorn and branch in the shop. Pretty in love with you, it turns out. Inhaled. Breathed in every last atom of Dani until her lungs were trembling with her. She slid the shirt on like armor and prayed the delicate fabric would be strong enough to help withstand the weight of the world ahead.

She took a few steps to the bathroom, turned on the faucet, and did battle with the first night of the rest of her life. Let the sink fill, stared at the water, and took a deep breath.

It took years for Dani to see the Lady. They were grateful for it then - relieved, actually, that they managed to get so much time. But now, all Jamie wants is for the haunting to come quickly. Do you want company?

For a long time, all Jamie Taylor wanted to do was forget. Forget Lancashire, forget the taunts, the sound of banging, of Louise’s girlish flirting, Mikey’s crying. Forget the whirl of sirens, the creak of a door opening in the dead of night, a weight dipping on the bed next to her. Forget London, forget prison, forget her, forget all of it. Forget Bly, forget the Lady, forget Viola was ever a dark spot to stain the bright garden of their life. She drank thirstily, fought desperately, all to forget the pain, forget that Dani was gone, was never coming back, and that she doesn’t remember how to be Jamie without Dani by her side.

Except now, she realized, on the off-chance Dani’s face would stare back in the mirror or from beneath the water, she wanted to see every last line, every curve of her face. If that meant suffering the empty, aching, endless days to do so, then so be it.

It’s you. It’s me. It’s us, she’d screamed to the Lady, to the hatred inside both of them, the fury that stormed stronger than death.

But after the flames expunge and the coals cool, Jamie remembers now, there’s more than just rage in the quiet parts. There’s patience. Love. Kindness. That things grow with just a little bit of water. A little, instead of all at once.

Water can give life, not just take it away.

It was easy to forget that small truth when the waves crashed and swept her below, unable to gain footing before another came crashing down and pulled her under. She did it once, on her own, in her youth and loneliness. She can learn how to do it again; to exist in stillness and quiet without Dani. A little, instead of all at once.

She lets loving Dani warm instead of burn. Like a comforting hearth beckoning the weary home.

She ran her fingers along the cool porcelain of the sink, reverently, as if it were Dani’s skin she was touching; Dani’s face she was caressing; Dani, she was loving.

Jamie takes a deep, shuddering breath, and looks up. Squares her shoulders, baring all of herself to the mirror, forces herself to look.

She’ll wait forever if she has to.

But first, just one night.

Beautiful things worth loving and tending to can bloom at night; under the blanket of darkness, there’s still life. And if she keeps pouring all her love and effort into it, maybe one day it’ll all make sense. She can see where it goes.

#damie #thobm #The Haunting of Bly Manor #dani x jamie #dani clayton x jamie taylor #my fanfic #april's the best everyone go thank her for hammering this into sense

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sunshine-shitposts · 4 years ago

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ALRIGHT. First selfship piece is going UP. I got some big inspiration from @amethystsoda and @dongiovannaswife so like... love you guys 💖💖 no stinky vampire man... yet. Hoping to get the next part up within the next week.

Dust in the Wind—Part 1

It had been a while since Jotaro had been to the Dallas Speedwagon Foundation Headquarters, and it had since moved locations to outside downtown… somewhere.

It was a damn pain if you asked him.

Dallas was a mess to move around in; you were better off on foot, since there were so many one-way streets. His grandfather had explained, the first time that he had brought his grandson to the Foundation in Dallas, that it was probably because car size in America outgrew the more narrow streets that Dallas began with. Jotaro himself didn't really understand it until he saw for himself: Texans loved big cars. There was an astonishing amount of pick up trucks here, compared to other places he'd been.

He wasn't very familiar with Texas, he had to admit. He'd visited Galveston and Corpus Christi more often for marine work, though he had to admit to himself that they weren't his favorite places in terms of the ocean; this side of the coastline of the Gulf of Mexico tended to have a lot of sediment in its water. When he stayed at a house in a place called Crystal Beach for a while, he remembered how searching for hermit crabs with a colleague was rather annoying due to the brown murkiness of the water.

The houses on stilts were quite novel, though.

...That was enough reminiscing.

Jotaro huffed, figuring he could just go to the old location to ask for assistance—it was still being used by the Foundation despite it not being the main building anymore—when a bright voice floated through the air.

"Hey, mom. Y'got everything?"

"Yes, but it's a lot, you know, they turned in projects… can you open the trunk?"

"'Course, no problem. Gimme a sec…"

Jotaro looked up from his map, seeing a young woman helping her mother begin to load several large rolled up cardboard tubes into the back seat of a small blue hatchback.

The woman was dressed comfortably, a boon in the blossoming Texas heat, with a black wide-brimmed hat and minty-colored sunglasses and a lazy smile on her face. She couldn't have been more than an inch over five feet, and her wavy purple hair fluttered in the wind. What didn't look conducive to staying cool were the dark, full-length leggings under her jean shorts or the knee-length, full sleeve knit cardigan, but he knew what it felt like to have a comfort jacket. Her mother, several inches taller than her, was well (albeit colorfully) dressed with a lanyard and ID swinging around her neck, and a mobile folding cart filled with books, folders, and cardboard tubes. The mother's hair, a light silvery-blonde that fell around her shoulders, made Jotaro wonder if they were actually related, but he admitted to himself that stranger things do happen, and hair dye did exist.

Jotaro hummed to himself and looked back at the map as a gust of wind between the tall buildings sent papers scattering, the mother crying out in dismay.

"Sunnie–!!"

"Don't worry mom, I got it."

Jotaro watched the paper of his map flutter suddenly and unexpectedly, swooping in the opposite direction that it had been previously. It was such a sudden change that Jotaro looked back up from the map, only to see all the papers floating through the air to finally gather into the young woman's outstretched hand.

"I'll never ever understand how you can do that," the mother said, her voice equal parts thankfulness and bafflement, "And I don't think I ever will."

"You keep saying that, y'know," her daughter laughed, easily hefting the heavy folding cart into the trunk of her car.

"I know!! But it's true, it's like magic! But real!!"

Jotaro focused his gaze on the young woman.

Stand users are drawn to each other.

When the two women were nearly finished loading all of the mother's things into the car, he approached them, trying to relax his intense demeanor as much as possible. The woman's mother reminded him a lot of his own, and he didn't want to frighten her.

"Excuse me," he asked, fishing around in a pocket inside his coat to pull out his notebook. The two women turned to look at him, the mother's eyebrows raising as she made an 'oooh' noise. Her daughter's expression, however, was completely unreadable behind her large sunglasses, but Jotaro felt her gaze. Her carefree attitude had suddenly disappeared, and he knew that she was likely sizing him up. He wondered if she, too, felt the same weird restlessness in her own chest. "I was wondering if you could tell me how to get here," he continued. Her mother leaned in to see the address written on the notebook's page, then lit up like a kid on Christmas morning.

"Sunnie! He's asking about the Speedwagon Foundation!"

Immediately, the daughter seemed to relax, looking at the page as well. "Oh, no shit?" After another second, her eyebrows rose above her sunglasses. "Oh! No shit!!"

"You know of it?" Jotaro asked, putting the notebook back into the chest pocket.

"Know of it? I'm heading there, after I drop mom back off at the house," the younger woman laughed, extending her arm for a handshake. "I'm Sunnie Green, recently employed by the Foundation. Good to meet you, Mr…?"

"Jotaro Kujo," he replied, accepting the shake and subsequently drowning her small hand in his own. Her shake was strong and firm and confident in a pleasantly unexpected way.

The second he said his name, though, a wry grin broke out on her face.

"No fuckin' way," Sunnie said, surprised, "I have heard some stories. Good to meet you in the flesh. Foundation's been expecting you."

Jotaro grunted. He knew that after his 'trip' to Egypt all those years ago, people at the Foundation liked to gossip about him, and he had hoped that those tales and rumors had died down, but it seemed that they'd persisted. He wondered if they'd only gotten more wild with time. "Well. That aside, if you could point me in the right direction, it would be much appreciated."

"Well, uh, it's not quite in Dallas anymore? It's a bit away from here, so uh…" Sunnie trailed off, her face scrunching up in thought.

"Sunnie," her mom stage-whispered, "Sunnie, you should drive him there."

"Huh-whaa?" Sunnie looked at her mom, eyes wide, then nodded like a lightbulb went off over her head, crossing her arms and grinning, "Yeah!! Yeah, that just makes sense. That makes so much sense!!"

"That won't be necessary–" Jotaro began, but Sunnie shot him a confident grin.

"Don't be silly! This is the perfect solution. It's late in the day, getting a taxi or rideshare there will cost you money you don't need to spend, I mean come on. I'm right here, dude. I gotcha." The smaller woman laughed and put the final bag of papers in the trunk of her car, shutting the door. "I'm not taking no for an answer. And mom?" she looked at her mom expectantly, who smiled widely.

"I'll sit in the back!" She beamed before looking back up at Jotaro, "That way you don't have to sit with all the projects."

Without giving him the chance to offer otherwise, Mrs. Green made her way to the back seat, opening the door and getting in. Jotaro breathed a quiet sigh, gathering himself before he walked to the front passenger's door and opened it. He did not miss Sunnie's triumphant smirk before he ducked inside. To his surprise, it was actually roomy inside the small car. At least, roomy enough to be comfortable for him. There was some music softly playing over the speakers and a water bottle in one of the cupholders, and dangling off of the rearview mirror were some small pom poms and repurposed cell phone charms, several of them Pokémon. In a little storage area under the main console, he saw a lanyard with an ID decorated with the Speedwagon Foundation logo on it.

Sunnie got in the car as well, buckling up and shifting out of park, turning smoothly into the street when it was safe.

"I'm excited for you to go to the new Foundation Headquarters, Mr. Kujo," Mrs. Green chirped, hands patting her bright red jeans excitedly, "Some of my former students helped decorate the interior! I'm very proud of their work."

"Mom's an interior design professor," Sunnie laughed, "Used to get hired for private homes and hospitals and stuff. There was that one home on White Rock with the spiral staircase? Fucking dope."

"I still talk to them," her mom said airily, "Sometimes I stop by for cookies."

Jotaro didn't quite know how to respond. The two women were very open and friendly and it was making him feel… strange. Was it just a Texan thing in general? Joseph had once mentioned 'Southern Hospitality'. Then again, who could say? The old man liked to talk for the sake of talking sometimes.

He caught a minute glance from Sunnie, who then leaned her head back, a lazy grin on her face.

"So mom, what're all those projects in the back?" She asked, "No balsa wood models this time? That was a nightmare to transport."

"But those were group projects and they were light weight! These plans are deceptively heavy and there are so many–"

As Carol rambled on about the projects sitting around her, Jotaro found himself happy that Sunnie seemingly sensed his discomfort and acted on his behalf to divert her mother's attention. He zoned out, his mind stuck on the impending meeting—one that he had never imagined he would have to have, and one that was admittedly making him feel a little sick in his stomach.

The red brick house they arrived at was in a quiet little subdivision about 40 minutes in traffic away from Downtown Dallas, lined with large trees and with a nice pond. The houses were all two stories, most driveways accessible from the street, and the summer warmth and ample sunshine had the lawns dotted with flowers of many colors. Sunnie parked the car in front of the pebbled sidewalk to the house, and the large dark blue front door opened. A salt-and-pepper haired man with a moustache walked out, wearing an old shirt and jeans and carrying a duffle bag. Sunnie and Mrs. Green got out of the car, and Jotaro decided to get out as well.

The man, presumably Mr. Green, seemed surprised. "I doubt one of your students turned him in," he laughed nonetheless. Mrs. Green giggled.

"No, no! He's with the Foundation!" Mrs. Green explained, and her husband rolled his eyes.

"I was kidding, Carol," he said, voice deadpan. Sunnie snickered.

"We found him looking for the new campus downtown, so I offered to take him there. Speaking of, we gotta get this stuff outta the Spaceship so we can head out," Sunnie turned to Jotaro, "This won't take too long–"

"I'll help," he told her, "Least I can do."

Sunnie paused, pursed her lips, and nodded.

With four sets of hands, unloading took no time at all, but Jotaro once again noted that Sunnie seemed stronger than her smaller size let on. At the end of it, her dad handed her the duffle bag, which she tossed in the back seat.

"See you in a few days," she said, hugging her parents, "Don't get too wild without me around."

"Darn. We'll have to cancel that crazy party," her dad grinned, and she smacked him on the arm.

Jotaro got back into the car with Sunnie, and she drove them out of the subdivision.

"…Do you live with your parents?" Jotaro asked, a sudden burst of curiosity getting the better of him. Sunnie looked at him out of the corner of her eye for a brief second, then turned her gaze back to the road as she flipped on her turn signal.

"I left my husband recently," she said, smoothly turning onto the service road, and Jotaro suddenly felt incredibly awkward, "Got out of the apartment as fast as I could. Grabbed a few things, said goodbye to the dog, and fucking split. It was really sudden, and since I don't have that much money to my name and my husband currently is in control of my finances, living with my parents is easier. I'm actually in my childhood room right now, when I stay at the house." She laughed dryly, merging onto the turnpike.

"Mm," Jotaro simply responded, and Sunnie laughed.

"It's not weird, dude, come on. Chill," she said, passing a particularly large eighteen wheeler and switching two lanes to the left, "I mean, it's kinda weird. But it's fine. I don't mind. I've heard a lot about you from some of the other employees already, I think it's fair that you know about me, if just a little." She looked at him briefly, eyes twinkling. "You're kind of a hot topic at the Foundation, you know."

Jotaro shifted in his seat and looked out his window.

"Which brings me to an important point," she continued, "I know why you're here."

Immediately, he looked back at her, eyes narrowing. That was supposed to be need-to-know information.

"I'm a Liaison for the Speedwagon Foundation. That's my official title, but I have a very specific job, and he is why you're here."

"You mean you–"

"Yes, and I'm aware of your history with him. Well, with the one from here." Her finger tapped the steering wheel pointedly. "I know you don't like him, that you have reason to not like him, and I know you won't like this one. But I'm imploring you not to start shit with him when you see him, okay? I've told him not to start shit with you so, you know, if you would be so kind."

Jotaro audibly gritted his teeth. This was just his fucking luck, running into that bastard's babysitter. "What makes you think he'd listen to you?" He growled.

"I don't know? He's been cool with me so far." She snorted. "I mean, he's an absolute piece of work, but it's been alright. No worse than teaching a class full of preschoolers can get on a bad day, but I did have to… establish that I can take care of myself against him."

"And how did you do that?"

"I stole his air," she said simply, "Made it impossible for him to breathe."

"Have you ever done that before? To someone else."

Her mouth fidgeted, eyes unreadable. They passed under the tollway in silence, broken by soft, ghastly wind chimes as a shimmering turquoise hand with a swirling wing shape on the wrist partially manifested on her shoulder, squeezing lightly before vanishing.

"You'll have to buy me a few drinks before I talk about that." Her voice was short, clipped. "I'm sure you have similar unlockable content you don't talk about otherwise."

It was a weird way to put it, but she was right. He did.

So he dropped the subject, looking back out the window.

"By the way, Catherine—Mrs. Gupta, rather—is here today, too," she said, tone easily switching from icy and guarded to light and airy, "She's the Regional COO, though I'm sure you know that. I'm told that she's the one who contacted you, after all."

Jotaro did not feel like answering. He didn't know what to say.

Sunnie merely glanced at him again, grinned to herself, and kept driving.

After Sunnie showed her credentials and pulled through the gated entrance of the new Dallas Speedwagon Foundation HQ, Jotaro let his eyebrows raise in surprise.

The previous location, having been built when Robert E. O. Speedwagon himself had struck black gold in Texas, was (while large) old, and it showed in its architecture and the relative closeness of the buildings. This, however, was a sprawling, modern campus with green spaces and fountains galore.

"We've got seven buildings here, but we'll be heading to the main one. Explore later if you'd like," Sunnie explained easily, searching for a parking spot. "I may be a… honestly kind of critical Subject Liaison, but I still don't have a dedicated parking space. That's fine, however," She lifted her finger and grinned, the sound of windchimes clinking in the air as her Stand fully manifested: lithe, vaguely robotic, feminine, and lined with light turquoise and shimmery silver. The face was mostly featureless and smooth like a plain mask, save for two large and sleek wing-like shapes on the sides, and two calculating but blank amber eyes. "We'll have her take care of this for us."

The Stand wiggled its fingers excitedly, then zoomed out of the roof of the car, unimpeded by the physical barrier. Jotaro watched, blank faced, then asked what could have been considered a very personal question.

"What's it's range?"

"Dust in the Wind's most powerful up to about six to nine feet from me, but she can and will travel quite far." That's… two to three meters, Jotaro translated in his head. "The further she gets, the less effective she is, but she's curious. She likes looking for things."

Jotaro huffed out the barest hint of a chuckle, remembering his time in jail before his trip to Egypt—how Star Platinum had brought him toys, beer, and reading materials in an attempt to placate him.

"I thought up this little tactic in college, since parking was shit there. It was cut-throat, honestly, so Windy helped scope out all the good spots." The Stand swooped down in front of the car and began nodding and pointing, motioning for them to follow. "Oh fuck yeah, it's a good one," Sunnie said happily before following as her Stand danced through the air in front of them, gracefully carving through the air. "She's playful. That's how I, uh, originally met… you know."

Jotaro looked at her, slightly confused. "Your Stand found him?"

She nodded, rounding a row of cars. "You know that weird feeling we got when we saw each other? How Stand users just kind of… know when other Stand users are around? I felt that when I first came here. She immediately jumped out and disappeared to find the source and found, well, him. Then he demanded to see the user, and bam," She shrugged, keeping one hand on the steering wheel, "We met."

Jotaro found himself grimacing at the mention of that man demanding anything and getting it. That piece of shit didn't deserve fuck all, in his opinion.

"Ah! There," Sunnie mumbled, pulling into a spot a row away from the front sidewalk. "She was right, it is good."

As she turned off the car and they both stepped out, Windy flew back to her user, nuzzling her face and disappearing. Sunnie grabbed her backpack and duffle bag from the backseat and they headed down the large sidewalk, lined with magnolias and sparkling water features.

"The old Speedwagon Foundation buildings are actually currently used for housing… supernatural objects. Like Stands tethered to items, fragments of pillars… there's this weird broken sword there that apparently possesses people, but when it does it just begs to be fixed," Sunnie rambled, shoving a hand in her long cardigan's pocket. Jotaro had to catch a breath, recalling that fight where Polnareff had indeed been possessed. That thing was here now? "This facility does a lot of R&D, field agent training, the like. Dallas has a lot of big companies around so they have some good deals, like with TI and stuff."

"You know a lot for someone who hasn't even been here for four months," Jotaro mumbled, glaring at the small woman. She glanced at him with a lazy smirk, the frog bell on her decorated backpack jingling softly as she walked next to him.

"I actually used to be in politics. Handled VAN data in my last campaign, but my strong suit was research. Following the money, making connections, y'know, all that mess," she said, tone light, "I know my way around things. Donor lists, requesting things under the FOIA, the like. I wanted to get a good picture of the Foundation before I thought about working here. And the rumors about their involvement in… supernatural matters interested me."

They walked through the large sliding glass doors into a cooled, busy lobby, shiny and sleek and new. Reflective surfaces, swooping centerpieces, statement greenery… it was impressive. What Jotaro did not appreciate was the eyes he felt on him the second he had walked in and the whispers that he knew were dancing around.

"Oh, Miss Green?" a receptionist pipped up upon seeing her, "And Dr. Kujo, oh!" The young man quickly patted down his curly chestnut hair, "I wasn't expecting you to–a-arrive together, huh. Well, Mrs. Gupta is waiting for you."

"Thanks, Mikel," Sunnie smiled, waltzing past the desk and towards a central elevator. Jotaro nodded his head slightly to the nervous young man as he continued to follow the smaller woman, stepping into the elevator. Sunnie leaned down (she didn't have to go too far) for a retina and thumb print scan, and the doors closed, the elevator smoothly starting up. They rode in silence, until the doors opened to a series of sterile white hallways.

"We're well underground, so you know," Sunnie mentioned as they began walking again. "It's easier to keep him down here with no threat of sunlight. The trick is that these lights outside his suite have a bit of UV in them. Sort of like how they keep the Pillar Man in D.C.," she informed him as they took a left, walking towards a large white double door. "Remember," she said pointedly, "No fights."

She leaned in for another eye and hand scan, and they passed through a short hall and through another sliding double door.

The first thing Jotaro saw in this more lavishly designed room was a tall, lithe, dark skinned woman with close-shaven hair wearing a golden pencil skirt and a deep forest green satin blouse, and stilettos that easily brought her close to his own height. Her expensive-looking gold jewelry and hoop earrings seemed to glitter as she turned her head towards the door, and her glossy dark red lips split into a dazzling grin.

"Sunnie! I see you've brought our guest," she said in a low voice like honey, lightly accented and melodic.

"Yep! I'm surprised he fit in my car," the smaller woman chirped as she walked into the room, "You didn't mention how tall he is."

The woman held out a well manicured hand, which Jotaro shook. "My name is Catherine Gupta. I became the regional COO of the Dallas branch of the Speedwagon Foundation a few months ago. It's good to meet you, Dr. Kujo."

"Call me Jotaro," he said, glowering at the door beyond them, "I'm assuming that's where he is?"

Mrs. Gupta nodded. "These newer facilities have several suites, some aboveground, some underground, for various purposes, if needed," she said, "When he came to us, it just made sense to stick him down here, where he is both protected and contained."

"Throwing him in a blender would be preferable," Jotaro grumbled, and Mrs. Gupta laughed lightly.

"Yes, yes, I'm aware of the Joestars' history with him," she said, shaking her head a bit, "The Foundation has extensive files on what happened in Britain all those years ago, as well as what you and your group went through. I've reviewed all of these multiple times to understand the situation fully."

"Well if that's the case, why the hell was I only recently informed of… this??" He gestured to the door beyond them, far past trying to hide the venomous rumble in his voice.

She pursed her full lips, "I wanted to tell you sooner, and believe me, I did everything in my power to convince my then-higher ups to let you know, but they were determined to keep it a secret from you and any other members of the Joestar bloodline. I felt that keeping it from you, however, was a moral failing. So I simply took the power I needed to make this happen."

He had to admit, he was impressed. She had said it so matter-of-factly that one might mistake it for an easy task, but he was aware that it almost definitely wasn't. The roiling rage he felt building inside his chest simply from being in proximity to that piece of shit subsided somewhat. "You have my thanks, then," he said quietly, "Does the Don know?"

Having been quiet up until that point, Sunnie shifted and the little frog shaped bell charm jingled, her head cocking to the side curiously. Jotaro took this to mean that she was unaware of his family tree.

"I'm still working on clearing that. I'm sure you're aware that there are a few more hoops to jump through when it comes to navigating our relationship with Passione," Mrs. Gupta chuckled. Hearing the name of the infamous Italian mafia, Sunnie's eyes blew wide and she covered her mouth slightly to whisper, 'yooooooo, what the shit, my dude', before Mrs. Gupta shot her a knowing smirk. "You would have found out soon enough, Sunnie. Just keep it secret for now, especially from him," she looked in the door's direction, and the shorter woman nodded enthusiastically.

"You got it, boss," she said, grinning widely, "Is… is the Don of Passione is a Joestar?"

"Indeed he is," Mrs. Gupta nodded, and Sunnie nearly flailed, whisper-shouting 'yo what the SHIT' again, causing the taller woman to laugh, "Though, I'll let you in on that later."

"Dope," Sunnie giggled, before noticing a tupperware box on one of the tables. "Oh～? And this is?"

"Murgh makhani from Janpreet. He made extra," Mrs. Gupta said warmly, before shooting Jotaro a glance. "My husband," she explained as an afterthought.

"FUCK yeah, tell him I say thanks," Sunnie giggled.

"Will do."

Jotaro had mostly tuned the two women out, however; he was staring at the door, glowering. Mrs. Gupta and Sunnie shared a glance.

"Welllll, I know you don't like him, but here we go. Time to face the music, I guess?" Sunnie said as she turned, her long cardigan following behind her as she nodded her head towards the door.

Mrs. Gupta raised an eyebrow at Jotaro, gesturing for him to go before her. He took a breath and turned to the door, steeling his soul and narrowing his eyes.

It was time to face Dio.

ゴゴゴゴゴ...

(Part 2)

#SunnieD #sunnie writes #SORRY GUYS I'M NOIVUSS

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fedeipox · 4 years ago

Text

The Way of Time (Rdr2 fanfic) - Chapter 6 (3/3)

Part 1 here: https://fedeipox.tumblr.com/post/640021017292636160/the-way-of-time-rdr2-fanfic-chapter-6-13

Part 2 here: https://fedeipox.tumblr.com/post/640495394492710912/the-way-of-time-rdr2-fanfic-chapter-6-23

Chapter 6 (3/3) - Gifts

Words: 3k

Molly was probably able to hide all those bad feelings from the other people in camp, but she couldn’t hide them from Emily: she was good with emotions, and in reading poetry. However, she had talked too much, again, and she felt mortified for how Molly had treated her. Walking around with the weight of regret on her chest, she ended up in front of her tent where Mary-Beth was still reading and Tilly was washing some clothes.

“Hello, girls. Do you need help, Tilly?”

“No, I’m almost done.”

“Is it still that book? The one with the man who wants to visit the moon?” she asked to Mary-Beth.

“Ah-ah” she affirmed.

Emily had soon found out that her books were boring and foolish, but she tried not to point it out to avoid insulting Mary-Beth. Besides, she had only three and she kept reading them again and again.

“How did the job go?” she asked to Emily.

“Good, I’ve made some money, so now I can buy you some other book. Something more interesting.”

“This one is not so bad. You have never wondered what goes on, on the moon?” “What should go on, on the moon? It’s a big cold rock.”

Mary-Beth widened her eyes.

“How do you know? You’ve been there?”

“No, of course not, but other people have.”

“You mean there’s folks living up there?”

Emily laughed, but then she saw Mary-Beth’s half hurt half curious face and decided to explain to her what apparently she didn’t know, that the moon couldn’t be colonized because there was no air and that men could only go up there with spaceships and space suits that allowed them to breathe.

“I’ve never heard of any of that” said Tilly.

“That’s because you have to wait until 1969 for that to happen.”

“So much time? We’ll probably never see that” replied a disconsolate Mary-Beth.

“But I can tell you everything about that, so it’s like you’ve lived that” Emily tried to cheer her up.

“Hey, what are you talking about?” asked Karen walking closer.

“The moon!” exclaimed Mary-Beth.

“Puff, again with your stupid fantasies?”

“It’s not a fantasy. Emily says we will walk on the moon one day.”

“Is that so? And how you expect to reach it? Riding a winged unicorn?”

Emily summoned all her patience and started explaining how Armstrong had been the first man to ever walk on the moon, how space rockets worked - without going into details that even she didn’t know, of course - and especially what gravity was, a new bizarre concept for the three girls.

“How the hell can you know all these things?” asked Karen who in spite of herself had started to get interested in what she was saying.

“I learned them, at school.”

“Are girls allowed to learn these things at school?” asked Tilly.

“Of course. We learn everything.”

“That sounds great. Can you bring me with you when you go back? The future looks so much better than now” said Mary-Beth.

Emily giggled but almost immediately she turned serious.

“If I’ll ever go back.”

...

The next morning Emily had an insistent itch on her head, and she perfectly knew the reason for that: a week, a week without a shower, a week without touching water. As she walked across the camp to reach Mr. Pearson’s kitchen and take some biscuits, scratching her head vigorously, she wondered how could those people live without washing everyday. It was humanly impossible.

“Morning, Miss Emily!” thundered Pearson with his big scratchy voice. Emily was getting used to it, he was a sort of morning alarm clock for her.

“Morning.”

“Some big plan for today?”

“Yes, washing” she murmured.

“Aah nothing better than a good bath.”

She couldn’t but agree, the only problem was: who she might have asked for a ride in town? Taking a couple of biscuits and with that question buzzing in her head she started walking around camp. Charles was her first choice, he was the one she trusted most there, so she went looking for him. Only after a couple of minutes of empty roaming she learned that he was out hunting, so her choice moved on Lenny.

“I’m on guard duty. I can’t leave my place.”

“Never mind, I’ll ask someone else.”

Javier? He was still asleep. He had had the guard turn that night. Uncle? He found an excuse not to lift his ass from the piece of shadow under which he was seated, drinking from his bottle. Dutch? Never. Bill? Emily wanted to bath in water, not in blood. In the end, she thought about Hosea. The last thing she wanted to do was disturb him, but she had no other choice, that was becoming a matter of life or death and she couldn’t delay it anymore.

“Morning, my dear” the man said when she reached him.

“Morning, Hosea” she murmured and left a slight kiss on his cheek, a habit she had taken in those days and to which Hosea still hadn’t become accustomed.

“How are you?” he asked a little embarrassed.

“Fine. I wanted to ask you for a favor.”

“What do you need?”

“I…” “Gentlemen, I’m going to Valentine for a little business.”

Emily turned around when she recognized Mr. Strauss’ voice and she fixed her eyes on the little man with the tiny glasses, walking quickly with his back bent and his ledger tightened to his chest.

She hadn’t even taken him in consideration, but after all, she didn’t mind with whom she was riding, she just needed someone who brought her to town and then back to camp. She turned again to look at Hosea and said a hasted “never mind” before she ran to Mr. Strauss.

“Good Morning, Mr. Strauss.”

“Morning, Miss Richardson.”

“You said you’re going to town. Do you mind taking me with you?”

“No, if you can keep the pace.”

“The pace? Y-you don’t… I thought you were taking a horse.” “I don’t ride horses, Miss, I walk. If that is a problem for you, you can go with someone else.”

“N-no no, it’s not a problem. I can walk.” “Good. Keep up the pace.” Without a wagon nor a horse, the little path that leaded out of the wood and on the main road seemed endless. Besides, Emily couldn’t fill the time with words because, let’s be honest, what kind of conversation could she have with Strauss? And only when they emerged from the trees she found the courage to ask him something.

“So, why don’t you ride horses?”

“I don’t like them.”

Emily raised her eyebrows in surprise. She had just found something in common with the person she thought to be the most different from her.

“Oh, well, you know, I don’t like horses, either. I can’t understand why they find them so interesting.”

“They’re easy and fast transportation.”

“Yes.”

Silence fell as they kept walking. Mr. Strauss had spoken the truth, he really had a fast pace, he almost ran with those short and skinny legs and Emily found it really difficult to keep up. For a second she wondered what was he going to do in town, but then she glanced at that ledger he tightened to his chest like a new born and realized that probably he was going there for some debts.

“Are you going to Valentine to recollect some money?”

“Lending.” “To whom?”

“I reckon you’re asking just to make conversation, but if you don’t mind I’d rather keep the names of my clients for myself.”

“Alright” Emily whispered and lowered her head. She was starting to regret her choice. Hosea would nave been a far better conversation partner.

“I know what you all think of me” said Mr. Strauss suddenly.

“Excuse me?”

“You think that what I do is disgusting, but if you think about it, compared to what other people do, my job is not so terrible. After all I don’t kill, I don’t steal, I don’t do anything which is not inside the limits of the law.”

Emily kept looking at him with wide eyes asking herself where all that was coming from. She had never questioned his “profession”, she had never spoken about it, nor expressed a judgement to his person. How could she express a judgement on a money lender in a camp of criminals? And, how could the others in camp express a judgement on him? After all, Mr. Strauss was right, they were thieves and murderers, and if they really despised him for the usury, they were a bunch of hypocrites.

“I don’t think you do anything wrong Mr. Strauss. You lend people money and then ask it back with interests. You’re like a private bank.”

“I’m glad you are such an open minded type, Miss.”

“Who knows, maybe with your job you also help some people. If someone is in extreme need of money and you lend them some, you might save their lives.”

Mr. Strauss looked at her for a moment, a second really, before he fixed his eyes again on the road.

“I don’t understand you, Miss. You look perfectly sane but at the same time you insist on that deluded story of the time travel.”

Emily huffed. It was time to try and convince him too. And she tried, for all the way to Valentine she tried convincing Strauss that she wasn’t crazy, but she couldn’t. That man was so firm and attached to his principles that she had to give up.

They parted when they reached town, with the promise to meet again in front of the general store when they had finished to do what they had to do. Strauss walked down the main road while Emily aimed for the Hotel. Mary-Beth had told her she had to go there for a bath. She climbed the four steps of the porch and walked inside.

“Morning, Miss. How can I help you?” asked the man behind the counter.

“I’m here for a bath” she said with insecurity.

“I’ll have it arranged for you” he said and walked down the corridor to his right.

Emily took the opportunity to look around: the room was rather basic with no paintings on the walls nor carpets on the floor. After all, in a town like that, what kind of luxury could they have?

“They’re warming the water, Miss. If you want to sit down while you wait” said the man coming back from the corridor and pointing to a chair.

Emily sat on the green worn out cushion and waited patiently for the water to be warmed and in the mean time she wondered how they were doing it. Maybe making it boil on the fire before pouring it inside the bathtub, just like she had seen many times in the movies?

It was exactly what they were doing and she found it out only when they let her inside the candle lit room with no windows. The average large bathtub was in the centre, a sort of basin with a mirror stood right beside the door while on the back of the room there was a partition panel for clothes changing. On a little table beside the tub there was a big bar of creamy soap and a brownish sponge, which she was sure she wasn’t going to touch.

Emily looked around her carefully and then fixed her eyes on the piping hot water. For her all that was awful: wash in a copper bathtub, with a piece of soap that God knows how many people had touched, no towels, no carpets. But she had to do it or she was sure that in a couple of days she would have got fleas.

Slowly and unsurely she undressed herself and dipped in the water. The lack of other kinds of soaps made her understand that in 1899 people made no distinction between shampoo and body soap, so she took the bar on the table and melted it in the water and, in the end, the general feeling wasn’t as bad as she expected.

She made sure to wash her hair carefully, who knew when she had had the chance to wash them again, but she tried not to spend too much time just in case Strauss had got bored of waiting for her and had chosen to go away and leave her there. But when she finished, dressed up again in a hurry, quickly gave a look at herself in the mirror, ran outside the room, paid the man his twenty-five cents and walked out of the Hotel, she didn’t find him waiting out of the general store, and that meant he wasn’t done yet. She decided to cross the street and enter the store to have a look and maybe find something interesting. Now that she had her money, she could buy anything she wanted.

“Hello there. Nice to see you again, Miss” said the owner when he recognized her.

“And you too, Mister. Do you have any books?”

“On the top shelf, up there” he said pointing a finger to the corner of the room.

He really hadn’t a big selection of books and most of them were unknown for Emily, but eventually she found what she was looking for.

“I’ll take this” she said leaving the little red book on the counter together with a couple of chocolate bars.

“Tess of the d’Ubervilles. What is this? Some kind of silly romantic novel?”

“No, it’s the story of a fallen woman who commits murder and in the end she’s hanged” she replied with a little annoyance. Did she look like someone who liked silly romantic novels?

“Well, not exactly the kind of reading for a lady” he laughed.

“But it perfectly represents the patriarchal repression that 19th century society had on women and the wrongs of a hierarchical mindset.” The man’s eyes widened and an imperceptible “oh” left his lips, but he hadn’t understood a word she had said.

“I-is that all?” he asked pointing at her purchases.

“Yes.”

She paid for the book and the chocolate and left the store. Right when she stepped outside she saw Mr. Strauss walking down the muddy street with a man following him and gesturing widely with his arms. Emily left the porch and reached the two of them, being careful not to walk too closer: the last thing she wanted was to stick her nose in Strauss’ affairs, but the two of them were talking so loudly she could perfectly hear them even if she had waited on the other side of the street.

“I have already told you Mr. Downes: you have a week.”

“B-but Mr. Strauss I have a family, I’m about to lose my house a-and…”

The man stopped to cough, bending on his knees and grasping Strauss’ arm who withdrew with a disgusted face.

“P-please, Mr. Strauss. I need some more time. Kindness… kindness will always be repaid. Be kind to me, please.” Strauss tightened his ledger to his chest and looked at the man with no trace of mercy on his face.

“You have one week” he repeated before he walked away.

With a sorry glance at the poor man, Emily reached Strauss and the two of them took the road back to camp.

“These cheap do-gooders are the worst. They believe that because they are benevolent with their neighbor everything is due to them. I have rules in my job, I expect everybody to follow them, with no exceptions.”

“Aren’t people who do good usually selfless?” asked Emily.

“I don’t get involved in matters of good and evil. That is a job for priests. All I care about is feed the mouths in camp, and the only thing I’m good at are numbers.”

Emily thought that he was a little harsh and insensible, but she couldn’t say he was wrong. Maybe it wasn’t the goal the problem, but the means.

“You could try and… give him some more time. He looked kind of desperate.”

“I can’t delay a payment. If something happens and we are forced to flee, I won’t be able to recollect the money. And two weeks are more than an appropriate amount of time to collect thirty-four dollars.”

Just like it had happened with Javier and Dutch, Emily couldn’t find anything to reply. That man had his way of doing things, all the reasons to do so and no intention to change his mind, which meant that argue with him was impossible.

The road back was made of scattered questions and long silences, but Emily didn’t mind too much. She was clean, she was smelling of soap, she had brought chocolate and she was in a great mood. Now, following Strauss’ fast pace wasn’t a problem anymore, on the contrary, it was Strauss turn to follow the girl, who was almost running.

“Alright, thank you for bringing me with you Mr. Strauss” she said when they got to camp.

“No trouble.”

Emily ran to her tent where Mary-Beth was reading, as always. Anyway, Emily was surprised to find Tilly reading too. Not that Tilly didn’t like reading, but she preferred to avoid Mary-Beth’s silly stories.

“You can put down that thing, my friend. I bought you this” said Emily showing her the new book.

“What is it about?” asked a surprised Mary-Beth taking the book and reading the title.

“Just read it. It’s a little different from what you’re used to, but it will make you understand some things. And there is a love story in the middle.”

“Have you read it?”

“A long time ago.”

“What do you mean ‘a little different’?” asked Tilly.

“It’s a little… dark sometimes.”

“Good, I like dark things. Can I read it too?”

“Sure, you can all read it. I reckon Karen will also like it” replied Emily opening one of the chocolate bars to take a piece.

“Karen doesn’t like romantic stories” said Mary-Beth.

“Who said it’s a romantic story? Chocolate?”

“Yeah, I’ll take some” replied Tilly stretching out a hand.

“You said there is a love story in the middle” stated Mary-Beth frowning.

“Ah-ah.”

“How… how can love not be romantic?”

“You’ll be surprised.”

#rdr2 #Red Dead Redemption #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption fanfiction #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x female oc #molly o'shea #leopold strauss #tilly jackson #mary-beth gaskill

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