#Familie Tanzer

[pressmost]

Ardagger - Frühstücksnews - Mittwoch, 21.12.2022

Ardagger – Frühstücksnews – Mittwoch, 21.12.2022

Sehr geehrte Gemeindebürgerin! Sehr geehrter Gemeindebürger! Zum bevorstehenden Weihnachtsfest darf ich Dir heute bereits eine Vorschau auf die kirchlichen Angebote im Pfarrverband und in unseren Pfarren geben: Am Freitag, 2312.2022: um 8:00 Uhr: Weihnachtsgottesdienst in der Mittelschule um 11:15 Uhr: Weihnachtsgottesdienst in der Volksschule Am Hl. Abend – Samstag, 24.12.2022: um 15.00 Uhr:…

[aurumacadicus]

It's time to pick our August book for book club! Tumblr will vote, and the book club will then vote among the top three in Discord. If you’d like to join the book club, send me a message and I’ll send you a link to the discord! Keep an eye out for the other poll, and check out the books’ summaries under the cut!

Gwen & Art Are Not in Love by Lex Croucher

It’s been hundreds of years since King Arthur’s Reign. His descendant, Arthur, a future Lord and general gadabout, has been betrothed to Gwendoline, the quick-witted, short-tempered princess of England, since birth. The only thing they can agree on is that they despise each other.

They’re forced to spend the summer together at Camelot in the run up to their nuptials, and with 24 hours, Gwen has discovered Arthur kissing a boy and Arthur has gone digging for Gwen’s childhood diary and found confessions about her crush on the kingdom’s only lady knight, Bridget Leclair.

Realizing they might make better allies than enemies, they make a reluctant pact to cover for each other, and as things head up at the annual royal tournament, Gwen is swept off her by her knight and Arthur takes an interest in Gwen’s royal brother. Lex Croucher’s Gwen & Art Are Not in Love is chock full of sword-fighting, found family, and romantic shenanigans destined to make readers fall in love.

Dreadful by Caitlin Rozakis

It’s bad enough waking up in a half-destroyed evil wizard’s workshop with no eyebrows, no memories, and no idea how long you have before the Dread Lord Whomever shows up to murder you horrible and then turn your skull into a goblet or something.

It’s a lot worse when you realize that Dread Lord Whomever is… you.

Gav isn’t really sure how he ended up with a castle full of goblins, or why he has a princess locked in a cell. All he can do is play along with his own evil plan in hopes of getting his memories back before he gets himself killed.

But as he realizes nothing – from the incredibly tasteless cloak adorned with flames to the aforementioned princess – is quite what it seems, Gav must face up to all the things the Dread Lord Gavrax has done. And he’ll have to answer the hardest question of all – who does he want to be?

A high fantasy farce featuring killer moat squid, toxic masculinity, an evil wizard convocation, and a garlic festival. All at once. All in all, Dread Lord Gavrax has had better weeks.

A Magical Girl Retires by Park Seolyeon

Twenty-nine, depressed, and drowning in credit card debt after losing her job during the pandemic, a millennial woman decides to end her troubles by jumping off Seol’s Mapo Bridge.

But her suicide attempt is interrupted by a girl dressed in white—her guardian angel. Ah Roa is a clairvoyant magical girl on a mission to find the greatest magical girl of all time. And our protagonist just may be that special someone.

But the young woman’s initial excitement turns to frustration when she learns being a magical girl in real life is much different than how it’s portrayed in stories. It isn’t just destiny—it’s work. Magical girls go to job fairs, join trade unions, attend classes. And for this magical girl there are no special powers and no great perks, and despite being magical, she still battles with low self-esteem. Her magic wand . . . is a credit card—which she must use to defeat a terrifying threat that isn’t a monster or an intergalactic war. It’s global climate change. Because magical girls need to think about sustainability, too.

Park Seolyeon reimagines classic fantasy tropes in a novel that explores real-world challenges that are both deeply personal and universal: the search for meaning and the desire to do good in a world that feels like it’s ending. A fun, fast-paced, and enchanting narrative that sparkles thanks to award-nominated Anton Hur, A Magical Girl Retires reminds us that we are all magical girls—that fighting evil by moonlight and winning love by daylight can be anyone’s game.

Six Crimson Cranes by Elizabeth Lim

Shiori’anma, the only princess of Kiata, has a secret. Forbidden magic runs through her veins. Normally she conceals it well, but on the morning of her betrothal ceremony, Shiori loses control. At first, her mistake seems like a stroke of luck, forestalling the wedding she never wanted. But it also catches the attention of Raikama, her stepmother.

A sorceress in her own right, Raikama banishes the young princess, turning her brothers into cranes. She warns Shiori that she must speak of it to no one: for with every word that escapes her lips, one of her brothers will die.

Penniless, voiceless, and alone, Shiori searches for her brothers, and uncovers a dark conspiracy to seize the throne. Only Shiori can set the kingdom to rights, but to do so she must place her trust in a paper bird, a mercurial dragon, and the very boy she fought so hard to marry. And she must embrace the magic she’s been taught all her life to forswear—no matter what the cost.

The Sunbearer Trials by Aiden Thomas

“Only the most powerful and honorable semidioses get chosen. I’m just a Jade. I’m not a real hero.”

As each new decade begins, the Sun’s power must be replenished so that Sol can keep traveling along the sky and keep the chaotic Obsidian gods at bay. Sol selects ten of the most worthy semidioses to compete in the Sunbearer Trials. The winner carriers light and life to all the temples of Reino del Sol, but the loser has the greatest honor of all—they will be sacrificed to Sol, their body melted down to refuel the Sun Stones, protecting the world for another ten years.

Teo, a seventeen-year-old Jade semidiós and the trans son of the goddess of birds, isn’t worried about the Trials . . . at least, not for himself. His best friend, Niya is a Gold semidiós and a shoo-in for the Trials, and while he trusts her abilities, the odds of becoming the sacrifice is one-in-ten.

But then, for the first time in over a century, the impossible happens. Sol chooses not one, but two Jade competitors. Teo, and Xio, the thirteen-year-old child of the god of bad luck. Now they must compete in five trials against Gold opponents who are more powerful and better trained. Worst of all, Teo’s annoyingly handsome ex-best friend and famous semidiós Hero, Aurelio is favored to win. Teo is determined to get himself and his friends through the trials unscathed—for fame, glory, and their own survival.

The Lost Apothecary by Sarah Penner

A forgotten history. A secret network of women. A legacy of poison and revenge. Welcome to the Lost Apothecary…

Hidden in the depths of eighteenth-century London, a secret apothecary shop caters to an unusual kind of clientele. Women across the city whisper of a mysterious figure named Nella who sells well-disguised poisons to use against the oppressive men in their lives. But the apothecary’s fate is jeopardized when her newest patron, a precocious twelve-year-old, makes a fatal mistake, sparking a string of consequences that echo through the centuries.

Meanwhile in present-day London, aspiring historian Carline Parcewell spends her tenth wedding anniversary alone, running from her own demons. When she stumbles upon a clue to the unsolved apothecary murders that haunted London two hundred years ago, her life collides with the apothecary’s in a stunning twist of fate—and not everyone will survive.

Vermilion by Molly Tanzer

Gunslinging, chain smoking, Stetson-wearing Taoist psychopomp, Elouise “Lou” Merriwether might not be a normal 19-year-old, but she’s too busy keeping San Francisco safe from ghosts, shades, and geung si to care much about that. It’s an important job, though most folks consider it downright spooky. Some have even accused Lou of being more comfortable with the dead than the living, and, well… they’re not wrong. When Lou hears that a bunch of Chinatown boys have gone missing somewhere deep in the Colorado Rockies she decides to saddle up and head into the wilderness to investigate. Lou fears her particular talents make her better suited to help placate their spirits than ensure they get home alive, but it’s the right thing to do, and she’s the only one willing to do it. On the road to a mysterious sanatorium known as Fountain of Youth, Lou will encounter bears, desperate men, a very undead villain, and even stranger challenges. Lou will need every one of her talents and a whole lot of luck to make it home alive…

[portraitperpetuity]

My two OCs, Tanzer and Leonid. Their story varies on the verse, but in the verse I’m most focused on for them rn, they are enemies-to-lovers trapped in an apocalypse.

Tanzer is a very sweet man, very warm, a little chatty, selfless to a fault. He was always a bit directionless, having always been stifled in his dreams and ambitions by an unsupportive family. However, he does draw and whittle, indicating a creative side.

Leonid is somewhat stoic, dry in his humor, emotionally distant due to the trauma of war and an unfortunate breakup with his fiancée a year back—but he definitely has a warm and soft side, wanting to love and be loved. He wanted to be an author, but the apocalypse threw a wrench in his plans.

This is a WIP; I’ll probably color them in sometime soon :)

[captainlordauditor]

Okay I know it was my brain worm to start b u t, 5 things that would happen in the Bruce Wayne in Thedas AU

you can't just SHOVE THE WORK OFF ONTO ME-

context for those not on One Specific Discord: the Brain Worms are, an AU where Bruce lands in Thedas and becomes the Warden, then Dick lands and becomes the Inquisitor

Sleeping with Morrigan is a strategic choice; it is not a romance, and the Bat allows himself no pleasure in a time of total war.

Dick (spy by any other name) and Leliana (spymaster) have a hell of a lot of staring contests with each other at the war table. eyebrows are raised. smug smiles are given. conversations that make no sense to anyone else are had. (this isn't about Bruce; we'll get there in a moment)

Leliana looks at Chiriklo Tanzer who claims to be a traveling tumbler and knife thrower and she is, perhaps, a little reminded of another friend she had... someone else whose story didn't quite add up, who despised killing... she'd had no idea that elves had family crests, but perhaps it was his half-bloodedness that made him so insistent on carrying it with him everywhere, painting it onto every shield he carried until it broke, sewing it onto the tabard he wore

"It came from my father's family," he'd said once, which made it even stranger, because wasn't his father the human parent? Wealthy herbalists and apothecaries, no magical blood, but respected healers with no titles? ("They might've done, if I'd had siblings," Boaz had said, "he had the money and respect to buy one.") (Boaz Kahn, which was not like a Fereldan name or an elven name she'd heard; but she had no reason to think about why it might be assumed)

Chiriklo Tanzer has far, far too much knowledge of diplomacy and armies and war for a poor tumbler, whose skill in combat well belies his joke that usually his job is to not hit people with knives, and it is this skill with diplomacy and his quick grasp of politics - despite a baffling lack of knowledge on his arrival - that leads him to suggest that the Inquisition wear masks in the shape of his family crest to Halamshiral, to show their allegiance to him.

it is not very long after that - far, far less time than it should have been - less time than it took to gather the mages from Redcliffe to Haven - a man appears at the gates of Tarasyl'an Te'las in a cloak and more black clothes than their wear says he should be able to afford, and he removes his bizarrely shaped helmet to reveal a face weathered by ten years of sun and Taint. "I am the Black Warden, called Dark Knight and Hero of Ferelden," he says, "and I am here to see my children."

[nyuszimotor]

Kezdek végleg kifogyni az értelmes filmekből (=számomra ezek a komolyabb drámák, külföldi művészfilmek), de ma végre megnéztem Haneke első komolyabb filmjét, ami igen letaglózó. Valós történeteken alapul és tökéletesen definiálja a nihilizmust, a film 2/3-áig nem is nagyon volt olyan, ami meggyőzött volna - szinte egy átlagos film. A végső fél óra viszont zseniális. Mondjuk depressziósoknak nem ajánlom, valóban egzisztenciális kérdéseket feszeget és igazán nihilista volt. Tetszett. Már csak a Triangle of sadness-t várom.

[tehuti88-art]

7/12/24: r/SketchDaily theme, "Free Draw Friday." This week's character from my anthro WWII storyline is Irmgard Tanzer. She's the woman who raises the young Inga (Dobermann) and leaves her her savings, which Inga decides to live off of while visiting soldiers in hospital, where she meets her future husband Louis. Irmgard isn't Inga's mother, however, or even her aunt though Inga calls her that; Inga finds out her parents' identities later. There'll be more about her later in my art Tumblr and Toyhou.se.

Regarding her design, she's a red and tan/rust doberman pinscher. This is roughly the Edwardian era, thus the hair.

TUMBLR EDIT: Irmgard is relatively new; she's been around in concept for a bit as "Inga's aunt," but just now got a name, and even more, INGA'S PAST HAS FINALLY OPENED UP. Finally! I took note of it starting to do so last December, but just barely, and it didn't feel "right" yet. A rather forbidding adoptive aunt figure emerged, but little else. Well, at last it started opening up, adoptive aunt is revealed not to be her aunt at all, there's a vague (still rather uncertain) idea of what became of her parents, and she's acquired a last name: Stern. This is still a heavily developing story, so details may change, but...here we go!

Inga's introduction to the main story comes when she appears one day in the military hospital near the end of the Great War, offering to provide comfort to lonely soldiers who have nobody to visit them. Here she meets both Louis Dobermann and Gunter Hesse. Both men fall in love with her; Dobermann speaks up first and proposes, and Inga soon heads home with him, while Hesse remains behind but later becomes a close family friend, helping to raise their daughter Adelina (who, incidentally, calls him "Uncle" although they aren't related). Inga is forced to fake her own death after killing a Nazi intruder in the house and accidentally outing herself as Jewish when her Star of David pendant is revealed; she comes out of hiding near the war's end, her presence helping convince Hesse, now an SS officer, to turn on the SS and help the Dobermanns escape, at the cost of his own life. Dobermann (and Hesse...it's complicated) is killed a year or so later attempting to thwart a remaining Nazi plot; Inga grieves for him deeply, and succumbs to dementia some years later. She and Louis leave behind Adelina and her own two sons, Louis II and Diepold.

Inga's life before she meets Dobermann remains a mystery to Hesse, and Dobermann himself doesn't learn of it until after they're reunited for that brief year or so following the war. She's Jewish, yet admits that she never practiced the faith (when the Jewish Tobias Schäfer comes to live with them, she has to familiarize herself with kosher foods to tell the kitchen staff what to prepare for him, as she's never kept kosher herself); she describes herself as secular, and when explaining why she never told even her own family, she says it simply never seemed like it mattered until then. Her personal knowledge of Judaism is quite minimal. It's obvious she wasn't raised under Jewish principles.

She's also apparently without any family of her own, as she tells both Hesse and Dobermann this; so when Dobermann explains away his decision to remove her body following her "death," before it can be investigated, by claiming he sent it to her extended family at their request, Hesse is confused; Inga never told him about any extended family. He goes along with the story anyway. (Hesse and Inga end up having one big detail in common: They were both orphaned as infants, and ended up wards of the state. Hesse, however, was never adopted...keep reading for Inga's circumstances.)

There's one more odd detail, that Inga never appears to have any job. She just shows up at the hospital and spends all her time visiting the soldiers, never needing to work. She has some other unexplained source of money. So: She's estranged from her own heritage, has no family, and has money yet no job; so what's going on?

Enter Irmgard Tanzer.

Irmgard is a relatively well-off, somewhat elderly spinster in a nice neighborhood at the edge of the city (similar to later suburbs). Nice house with a wrought-iron fence and set of stone steps. Nice greenery along the street. Quiet, low traffic, peaceful. As she leaves her house one day to do her daily things, fussing with her purse and parasol, she hears something nearby. Stops to listen. It sounds like a cat or kitten in distress. She cranes her neck and peers around, determining that the noise is coming from one of the bushes along the fence, right beside her gate; she stoops, a bit painfully due to her age, and carefully parts the leaves. Takes in a breath. There's a baby basket sitting on the ground between the branches, and a tiny baby within, mouth wide, face screwed up, mewing loudly.

"Ah mein Gott, ah mein Gott," Irmgard gasps, grasping the basket and carefully pulling it out. She makes shushing noises the entire time she gently pulls back the blanket around the baby and tries to check if it's all right, though she has no idea what she's doing, she's never raised a child. She can't find any overt injuries or anything; there isn't a covering of dew on the blanket, so it couldn't have been out all night, somebody must have dropped it off relatively recently. She looks up and down the street but nobody strange is in sight. Tucked in the blanket, she finds only three things: a small, worn, stuffed doll; a note; and a gold locket. Irmgard opens the note; it says merely, PLEASE TAKE CARE OF MY INGA. She then opens the locket; within is a tiny photo of a man and woman, and a small gold Star of David.

"Inga," Irmgard murmurs, stares at the photo, then shakes herself out of it, as the baby is still crying. Picks up the basket, abandoning her parasol, and stands up, exclaiming, "Hallo--? Hallo! Help! Help...!" until a few passersby and a policeman finally appear and hurry her way. They ponder over who might have left the baby and why; the policeman offers to take her to the station, though Irmgard insists on going along. She wants to be sure the baby's parents are found and that until then she's kept safe.

Another policeman at the station theorizes that the baby's parents chose Irmgard's neighborhood as it's pretty well off; and as the baby was obviously not left out all night, her parents were likely keeping watch on Irmgard's house for a while, to see when she came and left. They're apparently Jewish--which should narrow down the prospects considerably--and based on the condition of the basket, blanket, and toy, are probably rather poor, though they may have had better days, based on the jewelry and the photo. Inga is examined by a doctor; she's healthy, clean, well cared for, and is hungry but not neglected. Whoever her family is, they clearly loved her.

Irmgard's confusion just grows: "If they love her so much, why then did they abandon her...?" The police guess that her parents may have fallen on hard times and simply couldn't afford to care for her. They'll ask around, see if anyone knows of such a family who recently had a baby, though until then, Inga will be placed in an orphanage. Irmgard frets over this--"You're putting her up for adoption?"--the policeman says that yes, this is what will happen if they can't locate her family. They reassure her they'll do what they can, thank her, and send her on her way.

Irmgard can't get Inga out of her head, however. She waits a few days, heads back to the station, asks after the case. No progress, but they're looking, working hard. She visits the orphanage. Inga is there, wriggling in a crib; the attendant tells her the girl is barely more than a newborn. Irmgard heads home, but as the days go by she grows more restless. Visits the police again a few weeks later. This time they're a bit more curt, a bit less friendly; they're doing their job, no there are no leads, will she please just let them work? She doesn't need to fuss over "some Jew-baby" that isn't even her own. The police's attitude rubs Irmgard the wrong way, and she returns to the orphanage. Is surprised to find Inga still there; she blinks her big brown eyes at Irmgard and wriggles her arms again. Irmgard asks if anyone's shown interest in adopting her. The attendant looks a bit sad; lots of people have shown interest, yet after being told the baby's background, they moved on. "Maybe it's just me," she murmurs, "maybe I'm seeing things that aren't there...yet I wonder if they don't want to adopt her because she's a Jew." She quickly adds that Inga being abandoned might have something to do with it too, or maybe they worry that the parents will return for her. She doesn't know. Could be another reason. Could be anything.

Irmgard, prim, proper, sheltered Irmgard, decides to do something drastic: She'll look for Inga's parents herself. She can't help but suspect the police aren't digging as much as they should. She's unsure of how to proceed--she doesn't have any investigation experience or anything--so she takes the most obvious step, and visits a nearby synagogue, requesting to speak with the rabbi.

Irmgard figures a synagogue is similar to a church in being a place where the local citizens of faith gather, and like a priest, a rabbi might be in the best position to know who lives in the area and what family might have recently had a child. She shows him a copy of the photo. He doesn't recognize the couple, but suggests she try another synagogue: This is an Orthodox congregation, and the woman in the photo isn't wearing a head covering. Irmgard has no idea what any of this means; the rabbi replies that she may have more luck at a Conservative or more liberal synagogue. She thanks him but before she leaves, asks if anyone else has stopped by to inquire about the couple. The rabbi says no, she's the only one. Swallowing down the anger that crowds into her throat, Irmgard thanks him again and departs.

Then steps behind a wall, clenches her fists, and takes a moment to force herself to calm down. She'd suspected as much, but to receive confirmation that the police HAVEN'T EVEN INTERVIEWED THE LOCAL JEWISH CONGREGATIONS just steams her like little else. What have they been doing all this time? Do they just not care? She thinks of adorable little Inga, still lying in the orphanage, no one asking to adopt her, and the police's inaction is more feasible...she takes a few breaths, smooths down her dress and hair, and heads for the other synagogue suggested.

As soon as she shows the little photo to the second rabbi, he exclaims, "Frau Stern! Have you seen her? Do you know where she is...?" "You know her--?" Irmgard asks, to which he replies, "Ja, only in passing I'm afraid, but Frau Stern used to come here regularly with her husband...he died recently, some long illness. It's such a shame...she was with child, you see. Herr Stern was the breadwinner, and she had no way to make money. I know she was worried...she stopped coming to synagogue a while back. I think she just lost her faith. We offered to help her with the baby when it came, but she never asked...I think maybe she felt she had no right to ask for our help, but we would have given it gladly, no matter if she still believed or not. Do you know her? It's been quite a while since she's come around, and I've wondered about her..."

Irmgard says, "Nein, I didn't know her..." and to her surprise, finds herself lying. "I just found this locket, and wished to get it back to her. So...she's a widow? Herr Stern is...?" The rabbi confirms that her husband died some months ago, after being ill for quite a while, and Frau Stern seemed to have no other relatives around. He offers to keep hold of the locket for her, yet Irmgard says she'll keep looking. "Let her know, if you find her," the rabbi says, "we're still here and ready to welcome her with open arms, whether she believes or not." Irmgard promises, turning away a bit quickly as she has to wipe her damp eyes.

She goes to the police with what she's found, though she has to bite her tongue. Indeed, they start to brush her off, until she mentions the name Stern; there's a brief flurry of whispers, and finally they admit that there's a woman who matches Frau Stern's appearance, and was wearing a ring with the name Stern engraved on it, in the morgue. Irmgard is struck mute by this, needing to find her voice to ask what happened to her; drowning, she's told, though upon autopsy, it was found that she was seriously ill, and dying already. It looks like a suicide. "Should...should I go look, to identify her...?" Irmgard asks; the police think the rabbi would be better suited for this, and he's called. He IDs Frau Stern, and sadly asks if he can claim the body to be properly buried: "She shouldn't have been left here so long," he murmurs, and starts signing papers to have her body released into his custody. When left alone with Irmgard for a moment, he pauses as if to be sure no one is around, then whispers to her, "The baby...is it all right?"

Irmgard: *startled* "What...?"

Rabbi: "They said nothing about a dead child. You said nothing about it when you spoke with me. She must have had her baby already. You must know something about it...is it all right?"

Irmgard: "I..." *bites lip*

Rabbi: "It's dead...?" *long silence; gets a knowing look* "It's alive...that's why you came to me."

Irmgard: *silence*

Rabbi: *pause* "You're afraid we want to take it back. Because you've decided you want to keep it."

Irmgard lowers her head, ashamed and embarrassed, yet it's true...upon learning that Inga has no family left to take her, she felt her heart crumple, then fill up with determination that she wouldn't be abandoned again. It feels almost like a sign that Frau Stern left the child right outside her gate. The rabbi is quiet for a moment before murmuring, "I believe it would be best if it were raised in our traditions..." Irmgard's insides shrink "...yet what matters most is it's happy, and loved. You believe you could offer that...?" "I hope I can," Irmgard murmurs back, "I have to at least try." "Then that's what counts," the rabbi says, as the policeman comes back with the news that the morgue will release Frau Stern's body for burial. "I won't try to challenge you for custody," he says to Irmgard, "just promise me you'll love and care for that child with all your heart." "I will," Irmgard says, surprised by her own conviction; the rabbi's eyes grow a little glassy as the table with a sheet covering it is wheeled past, he lets out a breath, nods, and follows them out. Irmgard is left alone with her roiling thoughts.

She heads to the orphanage. Irrationally fearful that she'll arrive to find Inga gone, snatched away from her, yet the attendant smiles and leads her right to the baby's crib. Irmgard is so conflicted; she knows nothing about babies, she's never had any children, she's rather older than most mothers, can she even keep up with a child?--what is she thinking? Is this even feasible? She nearly backs out of her own plan, then remembers the promise she just made to the rabbi, and knows that even more, it's a promise to Frau Stern, who left the child for her to find. Surely she chose Irmgard, out of everyone else on her street, in her neighborhood, for a reason. "May...may I hold her, bitte...?" she asks, and Inga is placed in her arms. Inga blinks her big brown eyes and makes small baby noises. Irmgard's heart feels about to burst. "No one's chosen to adopt her, yet...?" she asks, and the attendant sighs and shakes her head no. "Could...do you think, do you think they would allow me...?" Irmgard tries to ask, falters, sees the look on the attendant's face--"Are--are you saying you're interested?" she asks, sounding incredulous--and loses her nerve. "I'm sorry," she mumbles, lowering her head, ears burning, as Inga coos. "I know it's silly, I'm too old for a child..."

The attendant raises her hands. "Nein--nein!" she says hastily. "Actually...I'd rather been hoping you'd be interested, it's obvious you care for her, more than anyone else I've seen. We prefer our children to go to married couples but she's been here for a while now, and I can put in a good word for you. You can bring any other references you may have, anything helps. Whatever is best for the child, ja...?" Irmgard lifts her head and blinks when Inga grasps her finger; "It looks like she's chosen you," the attendant smiles, and Irmgard knows Inga will be going home with her, no matter what.

She meekly asks the rabbi to vouch for her, expecting nothing, yet he obliges. Inga has no known next of kin to contest the adoption, and although there's no real legality behind it, the fact that Frau Stern abandoned the infant practically outside Irmgard's front gate points toward her consigning the infant into her specific care; the police prefer the case to be wrapped up, so officially declare Frau Stern's death a suicide--widowed, destitute, and dying, likely from the same illness that took her husband, she left Inga to what she hoped was a better life, before taking her own--and the last few wrinkles are ironed out, and Irmgard takes Inga Stern, now Inga Tanzer, home.

She decides against hiring a nanny, although she has more than enough money to do so--she wants to raise the child herself. It's a lot of trial and error though, and she finds herself asking other female acquaintances for advice. She doesn't really have any close friends she can ask; although friendly and polite enough, she's always kept to herself. She expects to be rebuffed, yet most of the mothers she talks to while strolling Inga through the park are willing and happy to help. Irmgard may be naive and sheltered but she learns quickly, and despite a few hiccups early on, she does a decent job raising the girl.

Inga is herself quiet and polite, yet definitely not out of shyness or uncertainty, like Irmgard; indeed, she seems to have a stubborn streak, and although she never throws tantrums or even engages in arguments, she knows how to dig her heels in when she disagrees with something. "Moving you is like moving a mountain!" Irmgard exclaims whenever Inga insists on getting her way. As time goes on, though, Inga realizes she can use other, more effective means to get what she wants; everyone looks at her and sees a sweet, well-behaved, pretty girl, and all she has to do is play along with this impression, and people will do or give her whatever she wants. She doesn't even have to try. Irmgard doesn't fall for this innate charm nearly so much, though she recognizes it, and cautions Inga against using it indiscriminately: "I can't tell you not to, I imagine it'll be useful when you're grown up and on your own, but bitte, be careful that you don't become cruel or heartless. It's the worst thing, to use someone's feelings against them, and treat them like an object. Bitte, promise me you'll never become that person." "I promise, Aunt Irma," Inga replies, and given her honesty with everything else, Irmgard believes she means it.

One thing only looms like a shadow over Irmgard's otherwise loving and open relationship with Inga: Inga's true heritage. Irmgard has no idea how to approach this, so she decides not to approach it at all. She does let Inga know she's not truly related to her by blood--"It hardly matters though, I love you just the same," she insists--but as for Inga's true family, she says she'll tell her when she's older. Once in a while Inga asks, and Irmgard gently puts her off, and that's all. Until one day, the teenaged Inga comes to her with something in her hands. It's Frau Stern's locket. Irmgard's face goes pale, though Inga seems more apologetic than anything.

Inga: "I...I know you wanted me to wait, but...I got to thinking, and it just drove me mad inside, I had to know. Bitte, don't be angry with me."

Irmgard: "I'm not angry, Liebe...just...I don't know what I should tell you. I didn't know your family. They left you for me."

Inga: "What were their names...?"

Irmgard: "Their last name was Stern. This is all I know."

Inga: "Do...do you know why? Why they left me? Did...did they not want me?"

Irmgard: "Nein, nein, this isn't it at all, Liebe! From what I understand they loved you very much! Your...your father was very ill, and...he died, and left your mother alone." *Inga gets a stricken look* "And your mother...she became ill as well...they say she wouldn't have lived long. She didn't have the money to care for you and didn't want to leave you on your own. I...I don't know how or why she chose to leave you at my gate...but I promised myself I'd take the best care of you that I could. I hope I've lived up to that."

Inga: "Why...why didn't you want me to know this until later?"

Irmgard: *eyes tearing up* "I thought...I thought my loving you wouldn't be enough, and you might want to leave me. And then my heart would break."

Irmgard puts her hands to her eyes and starts weeping--"I'm sorry, Liebe, I didn't mean to keep this from you, yet I couldn't bear to lose you"--then feels Inga's hand on her arm, then Inga's arms around her. "I'd never leave," Inga murmurs, "you're all I have in the world." She holds on to Irmgard until her weeping abates; as Irmgard dabs at her wet eyes, she hesitantly adds, "But...Aunt Irma...what does this mean...?" Irmgard lifts her head, and sees that Inga is holding up the Star of David.

Irmgard explains the best she can...which isn't that well. She knows practically nothing about the subject, figuring ignorance was better than involving herself in a world she doesn't belong to. Inga seems confused to learn she's part of this world yet has no knowledge of it; Irmgard asks if she'd be interested in visiting a synagogue, speaking with a rabbi. "Then what...?" Inga asks, to which Irmgard admits, she doesn't know: "That's up to you to decide, Liebe." Inga stares at the necklace for a moment, then closes her hand around it. Despite her earlier words, Irmgard briefly fears she's about to lose her; yet Inga replaces the Star in the locket and closes it. "She wanted me to have it," she murmurs, "so I'll keep it nearby. But she wanted you to have me. This is where I belong."

Inga is in her late teens when Irmgard's health starts failing. She stays by Irmgard's side, first when she's confined to a chair, then to her bed. Irmgard is more heartbroken over her perceived burden on Inga than over the fact that she's almost certainly dying; "I wanted so much to always be there for you, through all your life," she despairs, crushed that Inga is going to be left all alone again. Yet Inga bears this all stoically despite the tears in her own eyes, smoothing Irmgard's hair, bringing her broth to sip, resting her head on her arm. She reassures Irmgard repeatedly that she's not upset with her, either for withholding the details about her parents, or for leaving her so soon; "You've cared for me, given me everything," she murmurs, "just like you promised. Now I'll take care of you."

Irmgard soon after passes away, Inga faithfully at her side. Inga sits a while, wiping at her streaming eyes, clutching Irmgard's still, frail hand. She eventually pulls herself together and goes to the telephone; Irmgard left her a number to get in contact with. She calls it, tells the person on the other end who she is and what's happened; they reply that they'll take care of everything, just sit tight. A doctor arrives, checks Irmgard over, gently tells Inga he'll make sure her body is taken care of and funeral arrangements will be made. Just as he's exiting, another man arrives and introduces himself; he's Irmgard's estate attorney. Irmgard prepared for this moment long ago, not long after bringing Inga into her home; ever cautious, she wanted to be sure Inga would always be secure, and would never have to worry about anything. Inga is surprised to learn that Irmgard has left her entire estate to her, and it includes not just the house and its belongings, but Irmgard's savings. She always lived comfortably, yet rather frugally...Inga learns now that she was actually quite well off, most of her spending going toward Inga's upbringing. And now the rest of her considerable savings belong to Inga.

Inga has no idea what to do with her newfound wealth. She has no desire to travel, plus, there's a war going on even if she did want to. She ponders her options as she walks through the city; she happens to glance up in time to see that the city hospital is nearby. Several patients are sitting outside in their wheelchairs in the sun. While family members are tending to most of them, one or two sit by themselves, with no one but a nurse to check on them. Inga stands gazing at the patients who have no one to come visit them, and thinks back on what Irmgard had told her about her own past, how she'd been in the orphanage, with no one to come choose her. She realizes that, with money, she has all the time in the world. She can be the one who visits the lonely people in the hospitals, the people who have no one. Like Irmgard once did for her, she can let them know that they're seen, that they matter.

Inga seeks out the nearest military hospital, deciding to focus her energy on the wounded troops. Her request to meet isolated soldiers with no family or visitors is met with mild puzzlement; yet she's pointed out to the patients who have no one to come see them. She approaches them one after the other with her disarming smile and hallo; the soldiers are initially perplexed, uncertain why she's there, but soon warm to her visits, opening up and talking with her. They're grateful for any positive attention, and though she eventually has to move on to another hospital, their moods seem greatly improved by her temporary presence. The hospital staff, too, appreciate what she does, and once word spreads, she's allowed in willingly and welcomed by the doctors and nurses.

Inga arrives at a military hospital she hasn't visited yet, greets the staff, asks who she should visit. The nurse tells her about a new patient, an army captain, who just received terrible news; in his absence, his entire family succumbed to the flu. Inga goes to talk to him. Stands at his bedside; when he looks up at her, she greets him, tells him her name, says she's there to provide some company. Then waits for a response. None is forthcoming; he just stares at her. Inga starts to feel a bit disconcerted, fidgets, adds, "If you'd like...?" Wonders if maybe he just wants her to leave him alone.

The wounded soldier lifts a hand and points at his ear, shaking his head. "I can't hear you," he says, a bit too loudly. "The shell blast deafened me."

Inga's eyes go wide; she blushes, gestures for him to wait a moment, hurries back to the nurse. Asks for a pen and pad of paper to communicate with; the nurse apologizes, gives her the requested items, and Inga heads back to the soldier's bedside. Points at herself, writes on the pad, and shows it to him: INGA.

She doesn't have to wait for a response this time. "Louis," the soldier says, and Inga sits down beside him, pen in hand.

[Irmgard Tanzer 2024 [‎Friday, ‎July ‎12, ‎2024, ‏‎12:00:47 AM]]

[otherpplnation]

How to Build a Rewarding Creative Life

A new 'Craftwork' episode, about how to build a rewarding creative life. My guest is Ben Tanzer, author of the novel The Missing, available from 7.13 Books.

Tanzer is an Emmy winner. His work includes the short story collection Upstate, the science fiction novel Orphans and the essay collections Lost in Space and Be Cool. Ben is a storySouth and Pushcart nominee, a finalist for the Annual National Indie Excellence and Eric Hoffer Book Awards, a winner of the Devil's Kitchen Literary Festival Nonfiction Prose Award and a Midwest Book Award. He also received an Honorable Mention at the Chicago Writers Association Book Awards for Traditional Non-Fiction and a Bronze Medal from the Independent Publisher Book Awards. He's written for Hemispheres, Punk Planet, Men’s Health, and The Arrow, AARP’s GenX newsletter. He lives in Chicago with his family. 

***

Otherppl with Brad Listi is a weekly literary podcast featuring in-depth interviews with today's leading writers.

Available where podcasts are available: Apple Podcasts, Spotify, YouTube, etc.

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Email the show: letters [at] otherppl [dot] com

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www.otherppl.com

[silverview]

relistening to floptales adventure 2 (first half) & id forgotten just HOW GOOD tanzer’s character development is. like we’ve seen how full of shame he is and how 👽ated from his own family, the exact people who should be helping him deal….but learning about the traveller, seeing all these people ‘like him’ living happily together …. You can hear the weight being lifted for the first time in his life. he even starts referring to himself as an alien and “we/us”, he even says he wants to go back and visit them again 😭

the best part is that zhubin actively encourages dan to mess with the bell. so you know zhubin knew what a great drama moment it would be for tanzer when he has this happiness snatched away from him. and he’s so ANGRY at luke. oh i love it so much

[dhampiravidi]

call of duty OC (Skadi's MW AU)

template adapted from this:

Main Stats

Name: Sigrid "Skadi" Tanzer

Explanation: Skadi's the Norse goddess of winter and hunting. Sigrid earned her nickname for how cold she appears during missions and for her intimidating nature.

Born: Feb. 14, 1990 in Munich, Germany (age 33 as of 2023)

Gender: Non-Binary (she/her)

Orientation: Pansexual

Race: White

Citizenship: dual; German and Norwegian

Residence: Ålesund, Norway

Affiliations: trained with the FSK, was a trainer for the Jegertroppen (of NORSOF), serves with Task Force 141

Rank: Sergeant

Appearance

FC: Olga Kurylenko's makeup (as Etain in Centurion) + Rhea Ripley (face & body minus the tattoos)

she is a 5'8.5" (1.79 m) female with a fit build, though she has slim hips and muscular thighs. She has a relatively pale complexion, so her dark brown eyes and straight, jet-black hair stand out in stark contrast. Her typical hairstyle is a pixie cut with some growth in the back. Like everyone in the life of a special forces officer, her body is tacked with scars. Skadi's only tattoo is that of a minimalist wolf on her right forearm.

Personality

she’s one of those “hard outside, soft inside” people. Skadi's been bullied by a good number of people, so she has gotten tough over the years, learning to appreciate herself for who she is. She doesn’t trust others easily (assuming that there is always a trick hidden behind acts of kindness), but she does tend to have a soft spot for small children and animals. In fact, while on leave, she often takes injured animals to her home for veterinary care. During her downtime, Skadi also knits and reads about various ancient cultures.

Abilities

Battlefield Prowess: known more for her strength and endurance than her agility or her teamwork; prefers sniper rifles & knives Handedness: Ambidextrous (missing ring finger on left hand) Languages: German, Norwegian, English

Background

After Skadi was born, her mother, Eir, abandoned her daughter with the girl’s father, Theodor, and never returned. So Theodor raised Skadi, his "Wolfsmädchen [wolf girl]", happy to have what turned out to be an intelligent girl who loved learning almost as much as she loved being outside. He'd take her hunting with him when he was older, and she quickly realized that all creatures are in the same struggle to survive. This made her forever reverent when it comes to nature, not to mention just kindhearted in general. Unfortunately, Skadi was bullied about her height and her more reserved attitude, and it became unbearable after her father died in an accident. She went to Norway to find her mother–and found Eir with a family of her own. Long story short, Skadi chose to stay there for the scenery (at least, that's what she tells herself) and ended up getting into wrestling, something her father's family had taught her the basics of since she was fairly young. Wrestling turned into her serving under an "Aunt Frida" in the Norwegian Special Ops, which led to her training members of the all-female Jegertroppen. Somewhere in the middle of all of that, she got a tattoo to memorialize her father, lost her left ring finger, received the call sign "Skadi", and lost respect for a good amount of humanity.

[thescribblingtourist]

Nova Scotia: Passage to Rogue's Roost and Mahone Bay

A rookie sailor endures fog, dangerous rocks and a dinghy mishap on a birthday cruise along Nova Scotia’s south shore.

Originally published in Canadian Yachting and Halifax Chronicle Herald

“Guys, come and look at this. We’ve got company – BIG company!”

Skipper David Burke, owner of Angeleah, a well-kept Pearson 303 sailboat, points to the blinking mass on the radar screen. “Whatever it is, it’s coming in past Mauger’s Beach. Likely a car carrier headed for the Autoport at Eastern Passage.” David motions up through the companionway. “Let’s keep a good lookout. She’ll be to port, and I doubt we have 20 metres visibility in this soup.”

The fog hasn’t budged since we slipped Angeleah’s berth at Armdale Yacht Club at 0630. Our destination is Rogue’s Roost, one of Nova Scotia’s favoured south shore anchorages, tucked into the granite coast near the fishing community of Prospect.

With time at a premium for this Canada Day weekend cruise, we’ll leave the mainsail tucked in its kelly green sailbag, relying on the deep throbbing inboard diesel to punch us through the chop of Halifax harbour, around Chebucto Head and along the coast. At an average speed of four to five knots, we expect to make Hearn Island and Roost Island by early afternoon. We’ll anchor for the night and continue in the morning past Chester to Mahone Bay, further along the south shore.

David has arranged to rent a mooring for the summer, and when he invited me to crew on this trip, my family chased me out the door, saying a cruise would be the perfect way to celebrate my birthday. And they’re right. Here I am, on a solid, comfortable boat with a competent skipper and two new friends.

The hulking carrier passes without incident. I’m now glad to be on a boat fitted with all the modern amenities: auto helm, radar, GPS, depth sounder, VHF, dual batteries and a CD player that puts my home stereo to shame.

As we head offshore, the water darkens, but there is nothing to see. The diesel hums as Angeleah’s bow points to 180 degrees magnetic through one of the busiest commercial shipping lanes in North America.

“Gotta be real careful through here,” says David. “You can get some big freighters clipping through here and the navy pretty much owns this place. You might think you have right-of-way, but they rule the channel. Further out, it’s the fishing fleets we need to stay clear of. They’ll show up as clusters on the radar.”

I’m already impressed with this guy. His last boat was a Tanzer 26, and he’s sailed throughout eastern Canada. He’s taken his 6-tonne Pearson from Sydney to Halifax along the eastern shore and into the sailor’s paradise known as the Bras d’Or Lakes, a huge body of salt water cut into the middle of Cape Breton. It’s a secluded sailing ground with consistent winds and very little tidal action, a far cry from where we are this Saturday morning, motoring against the prevailing winds. And with this much fog, we’re relying on electronic (ie: ready-to-fail-at-the-first-hint-of-trouble) equipment to keep us off the steep granite cliffs to starboard. I can’t see the cliffs, but if the chart says that’s where they are, we need to pay very close attention.

This is when I regret my fascination with maritime history. I’ve ready too many stories of the wayward ships that have slammed into the coast or foundered on shoals after an ocean crossing. Looking at the chart, we’re not too far from the site of one of the worst disasters in the Halifax area – Thrumcap Shoal, south of McNab’s Island, where HMS La Tribune was caught in a winter gale in November 1797. Helpless bystanders stood on bluffs in nearby Herring Cove as the sea showed no mercy toward the sailors on the British frigate.

As morning broke, a 13-year old orphan from Herring Cove named Joe Cracker launched a dory into the frightening swell and saved two crewmen. Prompted by the youngster’s bravery, older men joined in to rescue another ten sailors from certain death. The loss of the Tribune took 238 lives. Angeleah’s hull has just passed by Tribune Rock, named in memory of that terrible night.

Now is not the time to think about people dying at sea, I tell myself. Pay attention. Keep your eyes scanning across the bow. Check the compass. Heading offshore, keep green buoys to starboard, red buoys to port. Don’t get sick. I really should have taken Gravol before we left.

The other two crew, Lang and Johnny, have both taken their anti-seasick medication. They’ve sailed with David before in pretty rough seas. Lang is a policy analyst with the provincial tourism department. Johnny works in construction. Both are friendly guys who are true Maritimers – never at a loss for a good story. There’ll be no shortage of conversation or humour on this trip. The few moments of boredom are broken by lame jokes about Swedish women in search of hardy Canadian sailors. Ahar, maties!

I hop below and grab the chart bag and find CHS #4237 so I can visualize where we’re heading. When David invited me along, I jumped at the chance to learn all I could about coastal piloting. My only previous sailing experience was limited to Laser racing on Wascana Lake in Regina, where I ended up turtling and sticking my mast into six feet of the thickest, stinkiest muck on the planet (they’ve since dredged and deepened the lake) so cruising into the Atlantic is pretty heady stuff.

The GPS shows we have passed Herring Cove and Ketch Harbour and are on course toward famous Chebucto Head, where untold thousands of ocean-going vessels have made landfall after their Atlantic crossings. The chart tells us that along with radio signals and lights, there’s a fog horn that signals twice every minute. As we approach the point, wrapped in fog, we’re all straining to hear the deep ‘Woooomp, Woooomp’ from the shore. Then, the eery but welcome sound penetrates the fog and reassures us that David’s navigation is right on the money.

I time the signal on my watch. “Yep, twice a minute,” I advise my mates. “Must be Chebucto Head.” It dawns on me that they know perfectly well where we are, but they’re too nice to make me feel like a real greenhorn, a far cry from the old salt Captain Joshua Slocum, who sailed by this very point more than a century ago on his epic journey around the world. He was the first person to do it alone. In his book ‘Sailing Alone Around the World’, Captain Slocum noted in his log for July 3, 1895:

“6:45 p.m., close under Chebucto Head light near Halifax Harbour, watching light after light sink astern as I sailed into the unbounded sea.” Two days later: “about midnight, the fog shut down again denser than before. One could almost stand on it. I felt myself drifting into loneliness.”

At the base of Chebucto Head, there are some nasty rocks that would chew up the ¼ inch-thick skin of a fiberglass boat. Our skipper is steering from the cabin, and every now and again he touches the plus or minus button on the auto helm to nudge us a bit left to make sure there’s plenty of room between us and the aids to navigation that he has programmed as waypoints. I’m fascinated at the technology. Steering without a wheel or tiller. Cool.

While David steers from below, Johnny is asleep on the port cockpit locker nursing a mild hangover, unaware of the water dripping from the boom onto his PFD, then his pant leg. Lang and I are trying to see through the curtain of fog, as the ocean swells play with Angeleah. We decide that Johnny needs the sleep more than he needs dry jeans, so we let him be.

When we reach red buoy ‘AM 58’ near Shannon Island, David focuses totally on his radar and GPS. This is serious stuff, conning Angeleah through a narrow channel, in total fog, between Hearn and Roost Islands, and thenonto a 100 degree magnetic course toward the anchorage. I was at the wheel as we passed green buoy ‘AN 52’.

“Dave, should I be to the left or right of the green can?” “What? Right, always right. Where are we?”

He jumps into the cockpit, sees the green buoy passing on the wrong side of the boat and grabs the wheel, cranking hard to starboard. “Everything left of that buoy is shallow water and nothing but rock. We’re fine now.”

Fifteen minutes later, we anchor in 10 or 11 feet of water, well behind a group of power boaters who had rafted together for the night. As dusk falls, we gather around the cabin table munching on chips and dip, washing it down with rum.

“What’ll it be boys, light, dark or mystery?” asks our host. I ask for half an inch of the light, sissy stuff topped up with cola all the way to the rim. B.B. King’s blues classic ‘The Thrill is Gone’ is groovin’ out of the CD player. We talk and joke long enough to hear the CD repeat three or four times. I’m not much of a rum drinker, but damn, this is fun. So this is why people get hooked on cruising!

It reminds me of the chorus in ‘The Bosun’s Alphabet’, a sailor’s song popular among square-riggers during the late 1800s:

“Merrily, so merrily, so merrily sail we, There’s no mortal on earth like a sailor at sea, Blow high or blow low! As the ship rolls along, Give a sailor his grog, And there’s nothing goes wrong.”

Around midnight, at anchor in Rogue’s Roost, we settle into our sleeping bags. Skipper is in the V-berth forward, Johnny and I take the settees in the cabin, while Lang, the shortest of the crew, scampers into the quarter-berth next to the diesel engine and below the cockpit. It’s a tight squeeze.

A light breeze tickles the halyards against the mast. Not enough noise to keep me from a deep, long sleep. Even the party boys on the raft have turned in for the night.

Morning brings brilliant sunshine, perfect weather to ease out from the rocks toward Prospect. We’ll get to see what we sailed through in yesterday’s fog. We weigh anchor after a filling breakfast of eggs, fried tomatoes, toast, juice and coffee. As we pass the village of Prospect to our starboard, white crashing rollers slam the rocks. Nose into the wind, it’s on to Peggy’s Cove, Ironbound Island, past St. Margaret’s Bay, Tancook Island and into the gentle waters of Mahone Bay.

A few minutes after leaving the Peggy’s Cove lighthouse to starboard, we pass what appears to be a wounded seal or small whale. We can only see what appears to be either a dorsal fin or a flipper. Whatever it is, it turns slowly and is unable to dive. Not much we can do.

Now we’re almost directly above the final resting place of Swissair Flight 111. On Sept. 1, 1998, 229 people died here. I was a television reporter with CBC, and spent that night at CFB Shearwater. Cameras rolling, we watched as ambulances streamed onto the base, lights flashing, only to leave when it was apparent there would be no one to rescue. The disaster has been chronicled in books and on television, and now, here on the water 150 feet above the sea floor, a sadness comes over me. I move forward to sit on the deck at the bow. The warm breeze and sun and gentle motion make it easy to close my eyes and fall into a half-sleep.

Not long into the protected waters of Mahone Bay, David decides we’ll head to the town’s anchorage. We’ll pick up our mooring and go ashore, where our first priority is a shower, then dinner. The temperature has climbed all day, and the thought of a cold beer washing down a plate of fish and chips seems like a grand idea.

Mahone Bay is a must for cruisers along the south shore. Home of the annual Wooden Boat Festival, the town attracts talented craftspeople and city folk who scratch their rural itch by visiting on weekends. Shutterbugs come here to photograph the three beautiful churches (United, Lutheran, Anglican) perched together at the head of the harbour.

One of the enduring stories is about Mahone Bay’s role in the war of 1812. An American privateer named the Young Teazer was chased into the bay by a British warship. One of the privateer’s crew was a British deserter, who was at his wit’s end to avoid capture and harsh punishment. He set fire to the Young Teazer’s ammunition stores. The ship blew up, killing 28 sailors. A local gift shop carries the Teazer name to this day.

Our dinner and copious amounts of brew behind us, the three crew foolishly decide to row the tender out to Angeleah. Johnny forgot the rule about the importance of keeping a low centre of gravity in a small boat, so over we went, gear and all, into the drink. Locals on the wharf seemed to enjoy the entertainment. Red-faced but happy as clams, we made it back to the boat to catch a wonderful sunset.

Monday morning dawns clear with a light mist hanging above the water. Another huge breakfast, then all four of us use mops and buckets to wash the deck from stem to stern.

The morning fog is burned off by the sun poking up over the eastern horizon. My first offshore cruise will end when my sons Matt and Adam drive out from Halifax to pick me up at the wharf.

“That was awesome, man,” is about all I can say to thank our gracious skipper for the invitation, and for guiding us here safely.

“We’ll do it again,” says David.

After farewell handshakes, my sons and I head out on Highway 103 toward Halifax. I’ve already made up my mind to someday buy a boat of my own. In the words of Captain Slocum:

“To young men contemplating a voyage I would say go. The tales of rough usage are for the most part exaggerations, as also are the stories of sea danger the days passed happily with me wherever my ship sailed.”

[sysig]

So The Hogsbottom Three huh

[deepredradio]

Der siebente Kontinent

Story: Georg, der im Überwachungszentrum eines großen Betriebes arbeitet, und seine Frau Anna, Optikerin, haben lange die Augen vor der Vereinsamung verschlossen. Als eines Tages ihre Tochter Eva vorgibt, nichts mehr zu sehen, brechen latente Aggressionen durch. Die Sehnsucht nach dem siebenten Kontinent wird stark. (more…)

[kcrabb88]

Queer Movies/Books/TV Shows for Pride Month!

Happy Pride everyone!! For your viewing/reading pleasure I have made a (non-exhaustive) list of queer media that I have enjoyed! 

Movies/Documentaries

Pride (2014): An old tried and true favorite, which meets at the intersection of queer and workers’ rights. A group of queer activists support the 1985 miners’ strike in Wales (complete with a sing-through of Bread and Roses + Power in a Union)

Portrait of a Lady on Fire: On an isolated island in Brittany at the end of the eighteenth century, a female painter is obliged to paint a wedding portrait of a young woman (or, two young lesbians fall in love by the sea, and you cry)

God’s Own Country: Young farmer Johnny Saxby numbs his daily frustrations with binge drinking and casual sex, until the arrival of a Romanian migrant worker for lambing season ignites an intense relationship that sets Johnny on a new path (Seriously this movie is GREAT and doesn’t get enough love, watch it! It’s rough but ends happily)

The Half of It:  When smart but cash-strapped teen Ellie Chu agrees to write a love letter for a jock, she doesn't expect to become his friend - or fall for his crush (as in she falls for his crush who is another girl. This movie was so good, and really friendship focused!) 

Saving Face:  A Chinese-American lesbian and her traditionalist mother are reluctant to go public with secret loves that clash against cultural expectations (this is an oldie and a goodie, with a happy ending!)

Moonlight:  A young African-American man grapples with his identity and sexuality while experiencing the everyday struggles of childhood, adolescence, and burgeoning adulthood (featuring gay men of color!)

Carol:  An aspiring photographer develops an intimate relationship with an older woman in 1950s New York (everyone’s seen this I think, but I couldn’t not have it here)

Milk: The story of Harvey Milk and his struggles as an American gay activist who fought for gay rights and became California's first openly gay elected official (the speech at the end of this made me cry. Warning, of course, for death, if you don’t know about Harvey Milk)

Pride (Hulu Documentary):  A six-part documentary series chronicling the fight for LGBTQ civil rights in America (they go by decade from the 50s-2000s, and there is a lot of great trans inclusion in this)

Paris is Burning (Documentary): A 1990s documentary about the African American and Latinx ballroom scene. Available on Youtube!

A New York Christmas Wedding:  As her Christmas Eve wedding draws near, Jennifer is visited by an angel and shown what could have been if she hadn't denied her true feelings for her childhood best friend (this movie is SO CUTE. It’s really only nominally a Christmas movie and easily watched anytime. Features an interracial sapphic couple!) 

TV Shows 

Love, Victor: Victor is a new student at Creekwood High School on his own journey of self-discovery, facing challenges at home, adjusting to a new city, and struggling with his sexual orientation (this is a spin-off of Love, Simon, and it’s very sweet and well done! Featuring a young gay man of color)

Sex Education:  A teenage boy with a sex therapist mother teams up with a high school classmate to set up an underground sex therapy clinic at school (this has multiple queer characters, including a featured young Black gay man and also in season 2 there is a side ace character!) 

Black Sails: I mean, do I even need to put a summary here? If you follow me you know that Black Sails is full of queer pirates, just queers everywhere.

Gentleman Jack:  A dramatization of the life of LGBTQ+ trailblazer, voracious learner and cryptic diarist Anne Lister, who returns to Halifax, West Yorkshire in 1832, determined to transform the fate of her faded ancestral home Shibden Hall (Period drama lesbians!!! A title sequence  that will make you gay just by watching!) 

Tales of the City (2019):  A middle-aged Mary Ann returns to San Francisco and reunites with the eccentric friends she left behind. "Tales of the City" focuses primarily on the people who live in a boardinghouse turned apartment complex owned by Anna Madrigal at 28 Barbary Lane, all of whom quickly become part of what Maupin coined a "logical family". It's no longer a secret that Mrs. Madrigal is transgender. Instead, she is haunted by something from her past that has long been too painful to share (this is based on a book series and it’s got lots of great inter-generational queer relationships!) 

The Haunting of Bly Manor:  After an au pair’s tragic death, Henry hires a young American nanny to care for his orphaned niece and nephew who reside at Bly Manor with the chef Owen, groundskeeper Jamie and housekeeper, Mrs. Grose (sweet, tender, wonderful lesbians. A bittersweet ending but this show is so so wonderful)

Sense8: A group of people around the world are suddenly linked mentally, and must find a way to survive being hunted by those who see them as a threat to the world's order (queers just EVERYWHERE in this show, of all kinds)

Books

Loveless by Alice Oseman:  Georgia has never been in love, never kissed anyone, never even had a crush – but as a fanfic-obsessed romantic she’s sure she’ll find her person one day. This wise, warm and witty story of identity and self-acceptance sees Alice Oseman on towering form as Georgia and her friends discover that true love isn’t limited to romance (don’t be turned off by this title, it’s tongue-in-cheek. This is a book about an aroace college girl discovering herself and centers the importance and power of platonic relationships! I have it on my TBR and have heard great things)

Detransition, Baby by Torrey Peters: Reese almost had it all: a loving relationship with Amy, an apartment in New York City, a job she didn't hate. She had scraped together what previous generations of trans women could only dream of: a life of mundane, bourgeois comforts. The only thing missing was a child. But then her girlfriend, Amy, detransitioned and became Ames, and everything fell apart. Now Reese is caught in a self-destructive pattern: avoiding her loneliness by sleeping with married men.Ames isn't happy either. He thought detransitioning to live as a man would make life easier, but that decision cost him his relationship with Reese—and losing her meant losing his only family. Even though their romance is over, he longs to find a way back to her. When Ames's boss and lover, Katrina, reveals that she's pregnant with his baby—and that she's not sure whether she wants to keep it—Ames wonders if this is the chance he's been waiting for. Could the three of them form some kind of unconventional family—and raise the baby together?This provocative debut is about what happens at the emotional, messy, vulnerable corners of womanhood that platitudes and good intentions can't reach. Torrey Peters brilliantly and fearlessly navigates the most dangerous taboos around gender, sex, and relationships, gifting us a thrillingly original, witty, and deeply moving novel (again, don’t be thrown off by the title, it too, is tongue-in-cheek. This book was GREAT, and written by a trans women with a queer-and especially trans--audience in mind)

A Tip for the Hangman by Allison Epstein: A gay Christopher Marlowe, at Cambridge and trying to become England’s best new playwright, finds himself wrapped up in royal espionage schemes while also falling in love (this book is by a Twitter friend of mine, and it is a wonderful historical thriller with a gay man at the center).

Creatures of Will and Temper by Molly Tanzer: a very very queer remix of The Picture of Dorian Gray (which was already quite queer), featuring amazing female characters, a gay Basil, and a much happier ending than the original. 

Red, White, and Royal Blue by Casey McQuiston: The gay prince of England and the bisexual, biracial first son of the president fall in love (think an AU of 2016 where a woman becomes president). Featuring a fantastic discovery of bisexuality, ruminations on grief, and just a truly astonishing book. One of my favorites!

One Last Stop by Casey McQuiston:  For cynical twenty-three-year-old August, moving to New York City is supposed to prove her right: that things like magic and cinematic love stories don’t exist, and the only smart way to go through life is alone. She can’t imagine how waiting tables at a 24-hour pancake diner and moving in with too many weird roommates could possibly change that. And there’s certainly no chance of her subway commute being anything more than a daily trudge through boredom and electrical failures. But then, there’s this gorgeous girl on the train (This is Casey McQuiston’s brand new novel featuring time-travel, queer women, and I absolutely cannot WAIT to read it)

The Heiress by Molly Greely: Set in the Pride and Prejudice universe, this takes on Anne de Bourg (Lady Catherine’s daughter), and makes her queer! 

Tipping the Velvet by Sarah Waters:  Nan King, an oyster girl, is captivated by the music hall phenomenon Kitty Butler, a male impersonator extraordinaire treading the boards in Canterbury. Through a friend at the box office, Nan manages to visit all her shows and finally meet her heroine. Soon after, she becomes Kitty's dresser and the two head for the bright lights of Leicester Square where they begin a glittering career as music-hall stars in an all-singing and dancing double act. At the same time, behind closed doors, they admit their attraction to each other and their affair begins (Sarah Waters is the queen of historical lesbians. All of her books are good, and they’re all gay! The Paying Guests is another great one)

(On a side note re: queer books, there are MANY, these are just ones I’ve read more recently. Also there are a lot of indie/self-published writers doing great work writing queer books, so definitely support your local indie authors!) 

[e-l-c-kingor]

{𝓑𝓪𝓼𝓲𝓬𝓼}

Name: Edwin Langdon Cassius Kingor

Alias: The Bookworm, Isaac Nathan Kingsley, Arthur Stanley Scarlet, Percy Edgar Newell, Peter Lewis Orson Tanzer, Wallace Irwin Teel, Sylvester Lloyd Young, Anthony Clark Thomas, Mr. E., Mr. Wright, Dr. Davison, Winnie, Worm

Gender: male (cis)

Age: 42

Species: human

Zodiac: aquarius / aries / cancer / capricorn / gemini / leo / libra / pisces / sagittarius / scorpio / taurus / virgo / unknown

Abilities/Talents: genius intellect, gadgetry/engineering, eidetic memory, manipulation, persuasion, research, technical skills, business skills

{𝓟𝓮𝓻𝓼𝓸𝓷𝓪𝓵}

Alignment: lawful / neutral / chaotic / good / neutral / evil / true

Religion: raised interfaith (Jewish and Catholic), considers himself agnostic. Still holds on to some of the morals and values he was taught. Celebrates both Chanukah and Christmas, and is more than happy to be included in his loved ones' own celebrations.

Sins: envy / greed / gluttony / lust / pride / sloth / wrath

Virtues: charity / chastity / diligence / humility / justice / kindness / patience

Languages: fluent in English, German, Spanish, French, Latin, Russian, Hebrew, Gaelic, ASL, Greek, Italian; conversational in Ancient Greek, Arabic, and Japanese; reading only in simplified Chinese.

Family: Otto Agustine Kingor (originally Otto Falk Wechsler) (father, deceased), Ferdinand Kingor (originally Ferdinand Wechsler) (fraternal uncle, supposedly deceased), Melanie Kingor (fraternal aunt, deceased), Sharon Davis (originally Sharon Kingor) (mother), Geoff Davis (step-father), Adela Kingor (older sister), Idalia Kingor (older sister), Wilfred Kingor (older brother), Brunhilda Ethel Wechsler (older half-sister), Lydia Limpet (ex-wife)

Friends: Julian Day (Calendar Man), Francis “Franz” Forde (Film Freak), Oswald Chesterfield Cobblepot (Penguin), Harleen Francis Quinzel (Harley Quinn), Pamela Isley (Poison Ivy), Selina Kyle (Catwoman), Thomas Elliott (Hush), Ezra Faheem Goodman (King Tut), Drury Walker (Killer Moth), Waylon Jones (Killer Croc), Kirkland Oliver Langstrom (Manbat)

Sexual Orientation: heterosexual / bisexual / pansexual / homosexual / demisexual / asexual / unsure / other

Relationship status: single / dating (verse dependent) / married / widowed / open relationship / other

Libido: sex god / very high / high / average / low / very low / non-existent 

{𝓟𝓱𝔂𝓼𝓲𝓬𝓪𝓵}

Build: twig / bony / slender / average / athletic / curvy / chubby / obese 

Hair: white / blonde / brunette / red / black / other

Eyes: brown / blue / green / black / other

Skin: pale / fair / olive / light brown / brown / very brown / other

Height: under 3 foot / 3-4 foot / 4-5 foot / 5-6 foot / 6-7 foot / above 7 foot

Weight: under 100 pounds / 100-150 pounds / 150-200 pounds / 200-250 pounds / above 250 pounds

Scars?: long line on right upper arm stretching from just under armpit to the middle of the upper arm, dealt to him by Victor Zsasz;, the faint remnants of an improperly healed unprofessional piercing on his right ear; another on his right nipple; small line on left heel, from a cut received while swimming in a river; nine small and faded marks of various shapes on both hands (four left, five right) from learning how to use tools for bookbinding and mechanics

Facial Features?: eyes are a very bright blue and expressive, lined on his forehead most obvious when expressing with one or both eyebrows, has some laugh lines by his eyes/nose/mouth, sometimes has bags under his eyes if he's been especially anxious for a while, slightly defined cheekbones, an aquiline nose, obvious dimples, somewhat thin lips, square jaw, pronounced chin

Tattoos?: none

{𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓸𝓼𝓮}

Dogs or Cats?

Birds or Hamsters?

Snakes or Spiders?

Red or Blue?

Yellow or Green?

Black or White?

Coffee or Tea?

Ice Cream or Cake?

Fruits or Vegetables?

Sandwich or Soup?

Magic or Melee?

Sword or Bow?

Summer or Winter?

Spring or Autumn?

The Past or The Future?

Tagged by: @fatherdamned

Tagging: steal it :p

[rockislandadultreads]

Lush & Leisure: Reading Recommendations

The Paper Palace by Miranda Cowley Heller

"This house, this place, knows all my secrets." It is a perfect July morning, and Elle, a fifty-year-old happily married mother of three, awakens at "The Paper Palace"--the family summer place which she has visited every summer of her life. But this morning is different: last night Elle and her oldest friend Jonas crept out the back door into the darkness and had sex with each other for the first time, all while their spouses chatted away inside. Now, over the next twenty-four hours, Elle will have to decide between the life she has made with her genuinely beloved husband, Peter, and the life she always imagined she would have had with her childhood love, Jonas, if a tragic event hadn't forever changed the course of their lives. As Heller colors in the experiences that have led Elle to this day, we arrive at her ultimate decision with all its complexity. Tender yet devastating, The Paper Palace considers the tensions between desire and dignity, the legacies of abuse, and the crimes and misdemeanors of families.

Strange Flowers by Donal Ryan

In 1973 Moll Gladney goes missing from the Tipperary hillside where she was born. Slowly her parents, Paddy and Kit, begin to accept that she’s gone forever. But she returns, changed, and with a few surprises for her family and neighbours. Nothing is ever the same again for the Gladneys, who learn that fate cares little for duty, that life rarely conforms to expectation, that God can’t be relied upon to heed any prayer. A story of exile and return, of loss and discovery, of retreat from grief and the saving power of love.

Creatures of Will and Temper  by Molly Tanzer

“A delightful, dark, and entertaining romp . . . Molly Tanzer is at the top of her form in this beautifully constructed novel.”—Jeff VanderMeer, best-selling author of the Southern Reach trilogy Victorian London is a place of fluid social roles, vibrant arts culture, fin-de-siècle wonders . . . and dangerous underground diabolic cults. Fencer Evadne Gray cares for none of the former and knows nothing of the latter when she’s sent to London to chaperone her younger sister, aspiring art critic Dorina. At loose ends after Dorina becomes enamored with their uncle’s friend, Lady Henrietta “Henry” Wotton, a local aristocrat and aesthete, Evadne enrolls in a fencing school. There, she meets George Cantrell, an experienced fencing master like she’s always dreamed of studying under. But soon, George shows her something more than fancy footwork—he reveals to Evadne a secret, hidden world of devilish demons and their obedient servants. George has dedicated himself to eradicating demons and diabolists alike, and now he needs Evadne’s help. But as she learns more, Evadne begins to believe that Lady Henry might actually be a diabolist . . . and even worse, she suspects Dorina might have become one too. Combining swordplay, the supernatural, and Victorian high society, Creatures of Will and Temper reveals a familiar but strange London in a riff on Oscar Wilde’s The Picture of Dorian Gray that readers won't soon forget.

Thomas and Beal in the Midi  by Christopher Tilghman

Thomas Bayly and his wife, Beal, have run away to France, escaping the laws and prejudices of post-Reconstruction America. The drama in this richly textured novel proceeds in two settings: first in Paris, and then in the Languedoc, where Thomas and Beal begin a new life as winemakers. Beal, indelible, beautiful, and poised, enchants everyone she meets in this strange new land, including a gaggle of artists in the Latin Quarter when they first arrive in Paris. Later, when they've moved to the beautiful and rugged Languedoc, she is torn between the freedoms she experienced in Paris and the return to the farm life she thought she had left behind in America. A moving and delicate portrait of a highly unusual marriage, Thomas and Beal in the Midi is a radiant work of deep insight and peerless imagination about the central dilemma of American history--the legacy of slavery and the Civil War--that explores the many ways that the past has an enduring hold over the present.