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madnessr · 1 year ago

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Vagabond

Vagabond — wandering from place to place without any settled home

Poly Lost Boys x GN Reader Synopsis: Forgiveness is a fickle thing. When four souls find each other, the world finds its equilibrium once more; until the absence of another tips the scale forever. What happens when a familiar face shows itself back at the boardwalk after twenty years of absence?

Warnings: slight angst, lots of historical information in the beginning

Word Count: 3k

By issuing the Declaration of Independence, adopted by the Continental Congress on July 4th, 1776, the 13 American colonies severed their political connections to Great Britain.

You had been ten during the conflicts between America and Great Britain, young and impressionable. Your family came with Puritans, who set sail to America back in 1630. Unlike the Pilgrims, who had left ten years earlier, the Puritans did not break with the Church of England but sought to reform it. All that happened before you were born; your ancestors had settled down and spread their roots into American soil.

You recalled little of the American Revolution; after all, you were very young back then, but you remember December 15th, 1791, vividly. Your mother couldn't stop crying that day, and your father had pulled out the oldest whiskey they had that day. America was finally severed from the tyrannical rule of George III.

You came to understand the significance of those dates more as you aged, growing into a strong individual as you helped your family on their farm. You never intended to marry; it wasn't something you had ever desired or looked forward to. The same year you had gotten married was the day you lost your immortality; both events are related but not necessarily connected. You were introduced to the vampiric community in New Orleans, a city that used the day to sleep off the mistakes you made throughout the rambunctious night.

You had lived through the formation of the Constitution of the United States of America in 1787 when the founding fathers sought to implement more structure into the now independent country.

The infamous whiskey rebellion. American drunks apparently were not too keen about Alexander Hamilton implementing a liquor tax to try and raise money for the national debt; asserting the federal government's power back in 1794.

Only nine years later, the Louisiana Purchase happened in 1803. The small land purchase for only $27 million created room for the states of Louisiana, Missouri, Arkansas, Iowa, North Dakota, South Dakota, Nebraska, and Oklahoma, along with most of Kansas, Colorado, Wyoming, Montana, and Minnesota.

Throughout the 1810s and 1830s, you had moved on from New Orleans and left for New York, seeking human connections and reconnecting with the younger generations. During that time, the Battle of New Orleans in 1815 and the Monroe Doctrine in 1823 seemed to fly past you.

Then, signed on February 2nd, 1848, the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo finally brought closure to the Mexican-American war. At this time, you were no stranger to political conflicts anymore, and the stench of blood and sweat staining battlefields was, unfortunately, no stranger.

Life moved on regardless, no matter the horrid realities life provided. For a short while, life had finally come to a stand-still, guns tucked away as the world in America resumed its development. Until April 12th, 1861, Confederate troops fired on Fort Sumter in South Carolina's Charleston Harbor at 4:30 A.M., A day that changed America forever, the beginning of the American Civil War.

The Emancipation Proclamation, The First Conscription Act, The Battle of Chancellorsville, The Vicksburg Campaign, The Gettysburg Campaign, The Battle of Chickamauga, The Battle of Chattanooga, The Siege of Knoxville. The list continued, and the coppery smell of wasted humanity tainted the air, the wind carrying the cries of victims throughout the nation.

The war ended in the Spring of 1865. Robert E. Lee surrendered the last major Confederate army to Ulysses S. Grant at Appomattox Courthouse on April 9th, 1865.

The number of soldiers who died throughout those four years eventually got estimated to be around 620,000.

Only 47 years later, on July 28th, 1914, the Austrian Archduke Franz Ferdinand was assassinated, beginning the cruel trench warfare of World War I. In early April 1917, America aided the effort to join a war to end all wars. You had entered the war effort, like everyone capable at the time; from soldiers to nurses, everyone gave aid.

On November 11th, 1918, the war ended. Although the Allies won, you found no reason to celebrate. Not when mothers sold their homes since there wasn't a reason to have a multiple-bedroom house anymore, when graveyards overflowed with the dead, when people mourned their losses, when mothers' only answer to their missing sons was a notice declaring their child missing in action.

The stock market crashed in 1929, kicking off the Great Depression that would last for more than a decade.

On September 1st, 1939, Germany invaded Poland. Kicking off World War II and beginning one of the most brutal warfare's, Blitzkrieg. On May 8th, 1945, Germany surrendered. After the atomic bomb was dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, Japan surrendered on September 2nd, 1945, and the Second World War came to an end.

The war ended, and the surviving soldiers returned with missing limbs and broken spirits. You were a firm believer that humans were not meant to witness so much death; it tainted them; it dulled them. Although you were a vampire, a creature supposedly made for horror, you could not forget what you had witnessed in only the span of 21 years.

You were 201 years old now, relatively young in the grand scheme of time, but you had lived through a few of the greatest horrors the world had ever seen.

189 years of traversing the lands, you watched grow in a desperate search to find one of your own. Since you were turned and left New Orleans, you had not met a single vampire. You watched with sorrowful wisdom in your eyes as the world passed through you, virginity in people's expressions you wish you had. A gaze untainted by warfare, civil unrest, and brutality.

Although you have met the occasional human to brighten your own world, it did not cure you. Your search was desolate—fruitless.

Your feet had carried you to Santa Carla, the year now being 1963, and just as the five stages of grief had settled on acceptance. You bumped into a group of four rambunctious bikers that would change your life forever. That had been the first time you had met, and you had continued to live together, going on to live through the Civil Rights movement and grieving the assassination of Martin Luther King, Jr.

But on August 12th, 1967, you left Santa Carla. Your absence is only justified by a delicately written letter standing in your place. You had grown to love the boys, but you had lived differently compared to them.

Marko and Paul were younger vampires than you, having been turned while The Great Depression was bulldozing America. Dwanye had been older, abandoning his immortality in the 18th century along with David. All of them possessed the innate ability to move on from the past, a talent you, unfortunately, did not possess.

No matter how hard you tried, you could not find peace or excitement in the future. The uncertainty corrupted you, tormented you and your experiences, so you left. Not with the intent to abandon but to sort out whatever you had to sort out. Away from the prying eyes of those you loved, those who you did not want—couldn't disappoint.

Santa Carla, the town you had never been able to forget. It was 1987 now; twenty years had passed since you had seen the four vampires. You had missed them—a melancholic weight having nestled its way into your heart ever since you left. You regretted the way you had left through a simple letter. A cowardly move; you were wise enough to understand that. But at the time, you couldn't bring yourself to say it to them. How could you? Look someone in the eyes, someone like you—your own pack that never did anything but love you—and tell them you were leaving?

You didn't have the heart, and if you were a little more honest, you didn't have it now, either. But you missed them more than your hurt pride by walking what felt like a walk of shame as you wandered around the busy boardwalk. One thing you never could get used to was the constant shift in fashion, it felt like the ins became the outs overnight, and you never were able to keep up with it.

Bright colors were the most fashionable now, with teased hair and loud makeup. You enjoyed it, your knowing eyes watching over the crowd. The smell of hairspray permeated the air, wafting towards you as you passed people. Bulky and oversized clothes were spotted throughout the crowds, some men and women wearing specific member-only jackets. Ah, it seems the surfer nazis still haven't given up on Santa Carla yet.

The amusement park was new; back in 1867, the boardwalk had small shops littered around—like a market. Originally it mostly sold food and groceries, fish caught fresh from the sea, and farmers selling their produce.

How has the pier changed so significantly? If it wasn't for the bold, attention-seeking sign that said Santa Carla Boardwalk; you would've thought you were at the wrong address. But stepping on those old wooden floorboards of the pier that occasionally creaked or sunk under your feet was an all too familiar feeling. The smell of salt, rotting seaweed that had washed onto the shore, and the fresh street food made you feel all too at home.

It felt like you had never really left.

Your appearance had changed quite a bit since you left Santa Carla, so you didn't expect either the boys or Max to really recognize you. But although you were willing to stay under the radar for the boys, Max was another story. He was a head vampire, a coven leader, and therefore needed to be notified of your presence.

Entering Max's video store made you feel nostalgic, the same old grimy bell still hanging atop the doorframe signaling your arrival; you had been the one to put that there to originally annoy Max. You were surprised he kept it. The wooden floorboards and furniture gave off a distinct, homey smell. You had been there when the store was built, and the shiny coating across the floors now had grown mat, occasional wood panels brighter in color than before.

"I never thought I'd meet the day I saw you walk through those doors again."

Turning around, you met the stern gaze of Max. His outfit made you smile, a desperate attempt at blending in with the crowd. Max was always a stickler for blending in; if he had no intention of turning you; you had no business knowing who; or rather what, he was.

"It's good to see you."

"I'm flattered, but I doubt that I am the sole reason you returned." Max always carried that knowing tone, as if he's watched out every move you'd make before you made them. It reminded you that Max had a coven before the boys and you, one he rarely conversed about. Perhaps Max really had seen this turn out before, but analyzing that surprised expression, you could only assume who had left never did come back.

"How right you are," You sighed, shoulders dropping as you hopped onto the cashier counter. It was before opening, meaning you and Max had some time to chat privately.

"Twenty years is a long time," Max hummed, a low and almost chiding tone. "What made you come back?"

"To us, it isn't," You weakly argued back. The cumbersome feeling, or rather an awareness that you were in the wrong, was nearly unbearable. You were smart enough to understand that denial was a fruitless endeavor, and yet you couldn't help but let those desperate attempts escape you.

"For people waiting for you, it's an eternity." Max sighed in a calm but chiding tone. Although Max never did have to scold you the way he did with the boys, from not committing arson to preventing fights. Max instead focused his guidance towards you on a more emotional level, the morality; a bit ironic being taught by a vampire—but he did his best.

You glanced outside, through the glass walls of Max's shop, watching the bustling crowd pass you. Twenty years to a vampire was nothing, but somehow the short span of time felt arduous. Why did you come back?

"I never intended on staying away forever. I knew that when the time was right, I'd return." You explained, stealing a quick glance at Max. The older man had a frown etched onto his face, eyebrows furrowed as his own gaze lingered on the rambunctious humans outside. So unaware of the constant and unrelenting passage of time. It was cruel to be immortal; the passage of time no longer hindered you. But emotions are bendable and are the only aspect of ourselves that remains from who we were. Emotions were mortal.

"Santa Carla has changed, Y/N. It is not what you left behind; they are not the same as they were alongside you." Max recalled, his voice disapproving.

You knew Max was correct; you knew deep in your wrenching and twisting gut. You jumped off the counter, your feet hitting the floor like gravity had shifted around you, sinking your body into the floor. "I know," you knew; perhaps the boys didn't even want to see you; they could curse you out and send your name to hell for all eternity. They deserved to do it too.

But they loved you once, and perhaps you can't help shake the feeling that they might love you again this time too.

Max sighed, walking over to his front door and twisting the closed sign around, and pronouncing the store now open. Each tap of his foot, synced with his steps, was like a thundering echo inside you. It prompted you to get up and to provide closure for the others. You reach the door, opening midway before Max leaves you with some parting advice.

"I hope you find what you came here for, Y/N. But the time might be right for you now, but it might not be for them."

You nodded, not looking back as you walked out of the store. The air was warmer, humid from the ocean breeze mixing into the air, the notorious assassin for any styled and teased hair due.

Laughter was one of your favorite sounds. As cliche as that might sound, it felt rejuvenating to hear. Whether it was a loud cackle mimicking the call of a hyena or a high-pitched wheeze or whistle. There was a beauty in people's expressions, how their noses tended to scrunch up, or how others held their stomachs and nearly doubled over. Laughter was infectious, and you loved observing the dopamine spread to others. Strangers connecting over a similar sense of joy; there was a beauty in it.

The boardwalk was filled with it, people brushing shoulders against shoulders as they walked. Groups cackling and shoving each other as they enjoyed the youngness of the evening. Music booming from different directions, punks blasting the newest rap or metal music, hippies tuning out to a gentle jam, but the loudest seemed to be a distant concert down the boardwalk and closer to the pier. Like a bee sensing some honey, you followed. Dodging the occasional passerby, ducking out of the way from shop owners lugging their merchandise around.

The music got louder, and a small thread of excitement seemed to push you further, faster. Your small stroll transformed into a quickened step, your ears guiding you and your eyes following the crowd. The music was loud; a tight smosh-like pit had formed before the stage where people grind and brushed against each other to the beat of the music.

Looking around, you scanned the faces of teenagers and young adults. There was an eager but dreaded nervousness to your gaze at the thought of seeing a face that looked familiar. But it wasn't your eyes that caught their presence, but rather your sense of smell.

Copper.

Although it was harder to pick up when the wind stills its prancing, the occasional breeze led you further towards the pier. Away from the smosh pit, and where people stood to enjoy the music but not risk getting mulled over by a hormonal teenager.

There they stood, strikingly familiar. Although some of the fashion had changed, most of their originality stayed intact. That tiny red flag tied around Dwayne's waist was something the two of you had stolen from a stingy bar owner back in 1964; Markos jacket still had all too familiar patches sewn into its denim fabric; Paul still wore those bracelets you gave him, and David wore the most prominent reminder of you, his oversized coat.

The wind picked up around you, a cold and mocking breeze flowing through your hair and betraying your presence to the four men you had left behind all those years ago. One by one, heads lifted, smiling ceased, and laughter died. Although you had spent years preparing yourself for this moment, nothing felt so gut-wrenchingly real than standing before them.

How do you look someone in the eyes after you've abandoned them?

How do you move past that moment when the world around you stills and halts. When you lose yourself in the blear of the world when mortality reaches its hand around your heart and squeezes. A vice-like grip, a feeling blooming within your chest so heavy–so unspeakable. When you see those eyes, recognize the sorrow behind them and realize you were the perpetrator. You were the one who put that agony, that sadness there.

The burden of your actions ties itself around your throat like a noose, tight and unyielding, as you realize the cruelty was done by none other than yourself. And there is no way, in any shape or form, you could reverse the damage you've done. Pain is immortal, it might yield to its throbbing, but it never forgets.

A world with your boys back in 1967 exists now only in your memory. The four men, cold as the autumn waters, were your reality now.

"Hello, boys."

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rackraccartpage · 3 months ago

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idk if anyone will care about this but this is my pressure oc! yes its roblox...

Read more for LOREE!!!

**Descriptions / Pre Infection** Kalo R. was hired as a security guard in the Hadal Blacksite facility in 1776, two years after Blacksite officially opened. He was assigned to the west wing, doing rounds down the halls during night and lunchtime (hours of high bloodlust and aggression among the inhabitants).

Lee Hoffman was a specialized scientist administered to environmental and botanic experiments and samples in 1775, a year after Blacksite's opening. He first worked in the general labs as an observer in the North wing, but was given his personal lab bordering the west wing in 1776. There, he began his experiments and studies on the grass and the green fungi, often accompanied by a dark substance.

During his hours, Kalo often ventured off path as he did his rounds, visiting his acquaintance, Hoffman, at his lab. Hoffman was a rather strange and isolated staff of the facility, mainly adhering to his lab rather than conversing with his colleagues however warmed to the quiet and stable presence of Kalo when the guard would come by.

**The Infection** As his study of the mysterious deep purple substance, found in the cracks of walls or behind abandoned rooms, delved deeper, Hoffman became obsessed. The scientist could no longer look away from his work and spoke to it under his breath. If taken from his lab, Hoffman would become aggressive and angry, a new development in the scientist's temperament. Despite Kalo's early and growing concerns about Hoffman's health and well being, Hoffman reassured him with promises that he would never keep. Hoffman believed he was brink of something more powerful and amazing than anyone could imagine. The fungi entered his thoughts, speaking to him incessantly...

**The Breakout** Hoffman's condition only worsened in the following months. Kalo planned to exterminate the samples that Hoffman had been cultivating within the lab and mend his friend back to health. However, before he could the containment breach occured within Blacksite. Kalo was stranded inside the facility and quickly sought refuge in Hoffman's laboratory. Within the lab Kalo found Hoffman no where to be seen, left without a trace, a stark difference from the man who had been living unofficially in his lab before hand due to his studies. Upon realizing this, Kalo thought the worst. He discovered vials of the strange substance, rats and other animals mutated in cages, and a journal detailing all of Hoffman's tests and discoveries.

For days, Kalo rarely went out of Hoffman's lab, hearing destruction and violence beyond the reinforced door until eventually it was silence. Only then, the guard ventured out cautiously, gradually discovering what happened and how he was left behind and locked within the facility with rogue experiments. Knowing the facility inside out was standard for Kalo, especially the West wing where he formerly made rounds, however the issue was the mental turmoil and dangerous creatures. There are only so many bullets in a gun. Securing Hoffman's lab as a makeshift base, and accepting his new situation, things began to change. Being to close to the samples began to effect Kalo, causing more and more obsessive behavior towards Hoffman's journal and eventually the fungi itself. Driven by his gradual obsession, and the information of the possible buffs that the experiments had achieved with the injection of such goo, Kalo began injecting the substance into himself quickly driving himself into insanity.

**In Game** Very rarely, the player can find a guard administered radio and unlock the "Walky Talky" achievement. The radio is broken at first, occasionally producing static and choppy dialogue from Kalo. It may consist of hellos, pleads, or memories or paranoid ramblings. Kalo is driven mad and desperate to communicate with Hoffman again. At Sebastian's shop, with the radio in inventory, the player is offered a repair kit. Using the one-use kit, the radio can be fixed. The fixed guard radio has two uses before running out of battery. With a 7/10 chance Kalo can differentiate which doors are false for the player. With a 2/10 chance, Kalo can maliciously guide the player to a false door where they can trade items. If taunted with a flash beacon, Kalo will become angry and can potentially kill the player with a 1/30 chance.

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mariacallous · 8 days ago

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Duffel Blog, the military's version of the Onion, didn't hold back. https://www.duffelblog.com/p/patriotic-soldier-loves-america-so

“The Founding Fathers, man,” said Johnson. “They’d want this. Jefferson had like 12 AR-15s back in 1776, and Washington? That dude had a tank.”

When asked where he learned this information, Johnson pointed to a stack of printed Facebook memes.

“These are my primary sources. You should really do your own research to find the truth,” he said, nodding proudly.

Inspired by his idol, retired Lt. Gen. Mike “Let’s Make that Foreign Monnnnney” Flynn, Johnson says he’s ready to lead a movement of like-minded patriots who prefer their constitutions with a side of conspiracy and their oaths of enlistment interpreted very loosely.

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massscara · 1 month ago

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DRDT SPOILERS. Second character, again.

I am NOT ready for a new drdt episode.

The more I think about Ace's execution, the sadder I get, but I still think about it all the time sooo... Please not the headless horseman.

Headless horseman.

At first: Who is the headless horseman?

« all information is taken from open sources on the Internet »

The Headless Horseman is a mythical figure in English and American folklore since the Middle Ages. Depending on the legend, the Horseman is depicted either with a severed head or without a head at all, which he is looking for.

The legend of the Headless Horseman (also known as "the Headless Hessian of the Hollow") begins in Sleepy Hollow, New York, during the American Revolutionary War. Traditional folklore holds that the Horseman was a Hessian trooper who was killed during the Battle of White Plains in 1776. He was decapitated by an American cannonball, and the shattered remains of his head were left on the battlefield while his comrades hastily carried his body away. Eventually they buried him in the cemetery of the Old Dutch Church of Sleepy Hollow, from which he rises as a malevolent ghost, furiously seeking his lost head. Modern versions of the story refer his rides to Halloween, around which time the battle took place.

Why do I conclude that Ace's execution may be related to this story? I have one answer that makes me assume so...

HIS BIRTHDAY IS ON FUCKING HALLOWEEN.

And also a little note that when I looked at his Wikipedia for screenshots of his birthday, I saw some of its changes!

WHAT THE FUCK DID TITIAN DO TO YOU BRO

#danganronpa despair time #drdt #ace markey

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city-of-ladies · 5 months ago

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"If there is one fact about the amazons that is indisputable, it is their consistently outstanding performance in combat. Not unexpectedly, practically the only author to cast doubt on this was Burton, for whom the idea that black females (not to speak of males) might excel on the battlefield was hard to accept: “The ‘Amazons’ boast themselves invulnerable, but readily retreat: an equal number of British charwomen, armed with the British broomstick, would - I lay, to speak Yorkishly— clear them off in very few hours.”Elsewhere he damns them with faint praise:‘The women are as brave as, if not braver than, their brethren in arms, who certainly do not shine in that department of manliness.”

The first inkling that the women soldiers of Dahomey might be first-class fighters comes from Labarthe’s informant who, in 1776, watched them perform shooting drills at Abomey and found them “very resolute”. By 1830, as Conneau learned at Whydah, their “bravery [was] a noted fact and [was] proverbial with the natives.” By the next decade the amazons’ reputation was established among Europeans too. At Cana in 1843 Freeman saw a “brigade” of them fire their guns. Not only did they shoot well, he says, but they “appeared totally void of fear”. The next year de Monléon remarked that the women had “often given striking proof of courage and audacity”. In 1845 Duncan saw amazon officers being rewarded for their “valour”.

Regarding the terror the women aroused among neighboring peoples, Chautard relates an anecdote from the 1880s. A group of amazons traveled from Whydah to Agoué, a port town beyond the kingdom near what is now Togo, perhaps as an escort for traders. The whole population crowded the town square to see the legendary ladies up close. The female “general” confronted the local male warriors and challenged the very best of them to a duel with swords to determine which sex was stronger. “In less than two minutes”, she boasted, “his head will adorn the tip of my sword!” To the shame of his sex, says Chautard, not one warrior volunteered.

The adjectives applied to the amazons over the decades were brave, courageous, valorous, valiant, fearless, intrepid, cruel, pitiless, merciless, implacable, relentless, bloodthirsty, fierce, ferocious, furious, audacious, impetuous, ardent, fanatic, disciplined, devoted (to the king), indomitable, redoubtable, formidable, vigorous, resolute, tenacious, determined, persevering. Often they were said to surpass their male colleagues — in valor, in intrepidity, in courage, in bravery, in cruelty, in discipline. “In this singular country”, Vallon reported, “the women’s army is accounted much more warlike than the men’s.” According to Bouët, there was no memory of any of the amazons fleeing combat whereas men had often been punished for doing it."

Amazons of Black Sparta: The Women Warriors of Dahomey, Stanley B. Alpern

#history #women in history #women's history #historyedit #19th century #18th century #dahomey amazons #benin #benin history #black women in history #african history #women warriors #warrior women

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dreaminginthedeepsouth · 2 months ago

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On this day in 1787, thirty-nine brave men signed the proposed U.S. Constitution, recognizing all who are born in the United States or by naturalization, have become citizens

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

September 17, 2024

Heather Cox Richardson

Sep 18, 2024

In 1761, 55-year-old Benjamin Franklin attended the coronation of King George III and later wrote that he expected the young monarch’s reign would “be happy and truly glorious.” Fifteen years later, in 1776, he helped to draft and then signed the Declaration of Independence. An 81-year-old man in 1787, he urged his colleagues at the Constitutional Convention in Philadelphia to rally behind the new plan of government they had written.

“I confess that there are several parts of this constitution which I do not at present approve, but I am not sure I shall never approve them,” he said, “For having lived long, I have experienced many instances of being obliged by better information, or fuller consideration, to change opinions even on important subjects, which I once thought right, but found to be otherwise.”

The framers of the new constitution hoped it would fix the problems of the first attempt to create a new nation. During the Revolutionary War, the Second Continental Congress had hammered out a plan for a confederation of states, but with fears of government tyranny still uppermost in lawmakers’ minds, they centered power in the states rather than in a national government.

The result—the Articles of Confederation—was a “firm league of friendship” among the 13 new states, overseen by a congress of men chosen by the state legislatures and in which each state had one vote. The new pact gave the federal government few duties and even fewer ways to meet them. Indicating their inclinations, in the first substantive paragraph the authors of the agreement said: “Each state retains its sovereignty, freedom and independence, and every Power, Jurisdiction and right, which is not by this confederation expressly delegated to the United States, in Congress assembled.”

Within a decade, the states were refusing to contribute money to the new government and were starting to contemplate their own trade agreements with other countries. An economic recession in 1786 threatened farmers in western Massachusetts with the loss of their farms when the state government in the eastern part of the state refused relief; in turn, when farmers led by Revolutionary War captain Daniel Shays marched on Boston, propertied men were so terrified their own property would be seized that they raised their own army for protection.

The new system clearly could not protect property of either the poor or the rich and thus faced the threat of landless mobs. The nation seemed on the verge of tearing itself apart, and the new Americans were all too aware that both England and Spain were standing by, waiting to make the most of the opportunities such chaos would create.

And so, in 1786, leaders called for a reworking of the new government centered not on the states, but on the people of the nation represented by a national government. The document began, “We the People of the United States, in order to form a more perfect Union….”

The Constitution established a representative democracy, a republic, in which three branches of government would balance each other to prevent the rise of a tyrant. Congress would write all “necessary and proper” laws, levy taxes, borrow money, pay the nation’s debts, establish a postal service, establish courts, declare war, support an army and navy, organize and call forth “the militia to execute the Laws of the Union” and “provide for the common Defence and general Welfare of the United States.”

The president would execute the laws, but if Congress overstepped, the president could veto proposed legislation. In turn, Congress could override a presidential veto. Congress could declare war, but the president was the commander in chief of the army and had the power to make treaties with foreign powers. It was all quite an elegant system of paths and tripwires, really.

A judicial branch would settle disputes between inhabitants of the different states and guarantee every defendant a right to a jury trial.

In this system, the new national government was uppermost. The Constitution provided that “[t]he Citizens of each State shall be entitled to all Privileges and Immunities of Citizens in the several States,” and promised that “the United States shall guarantee to every State in this Union a Republican Form of Government, and shall protect each of them against Invasion….”

Finally, it declared: “This Constitution, and the Laws of the United States which shall be made in Pursuance thereof; and all Treaties made, or which shall be made, under the Authority of the United States, shall be the supreme Law of the Land; and the Judges in every State shall be bound thereby, any Thing in the Constitution or Laws of any State to the Contrary notwithstanding.”

“I agree to this Constitution with all its faults, if they are such,” Franklin said after a weary four months spent hashing it out, “because I think a general Government necessary for us,” and, he said, it “astonishes me…to find this system approaching so near to perfection as it does; and I think it will astonish our enemies, who are waiting with confidence to hear that our…States are on the point of separation, only to meet hereafter for the purpose of cutting one another’s throats.”

“On the whole,” he said to his colleagues, “I can not help expressing a wish that every member of the Convention who may still have objections to it, would with me, on this occasion doubt a little of his own infallibility—and to make manifest our unanimity, put his name to this instrument.”

On September 17, 1787, they did.

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

#U.S.Constitution #Letters From An American #Heather Cox Richardson #history #American History #Benjamin Franklin

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digitalyarbs · 1 year ago

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The Face of Nathan Hale.

Nathan Hale, a distinguished American Patriot, soldier, and spy for the Continental Army during the American Revolutionary War, is immortalized in the face captured through a Photohop reconstruction of Frederick William MacMonnies' statue of Hale in City Hall Park, New York.

Born on June 6, 1755, Nathan Hale excelled academically and graduated with honors from Yale University in 1773. Soon after, in 1775, he joined a Connecticut militia unit and rapidly rose to the rank of first lieutenant within five months. He became a valued member of Knowlton's Rangers, a reconnaissance and espionage detachment established by General George Washington.

At the young age of just over twenty-one, Hale's courage and determination led him to volunteer for a perilous mission behind enemy lines before the Battle of Harlem Heights. Though lacking formal training in espionage, he succeeded in gathering vital information about British troop movements for a week.

Sadly, on September 21, 1776, during his return from a mission, Hale was captured and found in possession of an incriminating document written in Latin hidden in the sole of his shoe. Without a fair trial, General William Howe ordered his execution for spying, which was carried out the next morning, September 22, 1776. Hale spent his final night confined in the greenhouse of Howe's headquarters, and at dawn, he was led to the gallows, where he faced his death with remarkable courage, famously uttering, "I only regret that I have but one life to lose for my country."

Nathan Hale's legacy lives on as America's first spy and a symbol of unwavering patriotism. In recognition of his selfless sacrifice and devotion, he was officially declared Connecticut's state hero on October 1, 1985.

Contemporary accounts paint a picture of a remarkable individual. Beyond his intelligence and athletic prowess in wrestling, football, and broad jumping, Hale was described as kind, gentle, religious, and exceptionally good-looking. With fair skin, light blue eyes, and hair, he stood just under six feet tall, captivating both men and women alike. His presence and character earned him the admiration and affection of all who knew him, and it was said that all the girls in New Haven were enamored by him.

yarbs.net

#nathan hale #american history #american revolution #conneticut #amrev #founding fathers #patriotisism

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labuenosairesfrancaise · 4 months ago

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Alderley House

Hi guys!!

I'm sharing Alderley House. This is the 17th building for my English Collection.

I decorated most of the house, for reference, but with some simple furniture as I found here: https://media.onthemarket.com/properties/629174/doc_0_96.pdf

History of the house: Alderley House is a mid-19th century 23,843 square feet (2,215.1 m2) Grade II listed country house designed by Lewis Vulliamy and built for Robert Blagden Hale in the Cotswold village of Alderley, near Wotton-under-Edge in Gloucestershire, England. It was built on the site of The Lower House, a 17-century manor house built by Sir Matthew Hale, a lawyer. The house is situated immediately to the southwest of St Kenelm's Church. In 2009 it was sold to an American oil executive who restored the house as a private home after 70 years serving as a preparatory school, Rose Hill School.

The Hales of Alderley were a prominent gentry family in the Wotton-under-Edge area of Gloucestershire from the early 17th century to the early 20th century. Alderley, located 2 miles south of Wotton-under-Edge, was home to the Hale family, starting with Robert Hale who built West End House in 1608. Robert's son, Sir Matthew Hale, purchased the manor of Alderley in 1656 and had The Lower House built between 1656 and 1662.

Sir Matthew Hale, a jurist, was raised by a relative and became religiously devout. He lived near St Kenelm's Church and had a right of way granted to his manor house. Sir Matthew Hale resigned as Lord Chief Justice in 1676 due to ill-health and retired to Alderley, passing away the same year. His estate was inherited by his grandchildren, and West End House was bequeathed to his daughter, Mary.

After Sir Matthew Hale's death, The Lower House remained the family seat for over a century until another Matthew Hale rebuilt The Upper House between 1776 and 1780, making it the new family home.

In 1805, Robert Hale Blagden Hale inherited the properties in Alderley, which included The Upper House as the main family residence. In the 1830s, his eldest son, Robert Blagden Hale, chose to set up his independent household at The Lower House due to prevailing Victorian attitudes about the separation of male and female servants. In 1844, he added a new service wing with a distinctive crow-stepped gable designed by Lewis Vulliamy to The Lower House.

After his father's death in 1855, Robert Blagden Hale, who was a Tory MP for West Gloucestershire, inherited the family properties, including Cottles House in West Wiltshire. He resigned as an MP in 1857 and sold Cottles House to focus on becoming a country gentleman. In 1859, he demolished both The Upper House and most of The Lower House to build a new manor house named Alderley House in a fashionable style, designed by Lewis Vulliamy. The new house utilized materials from the demolished structures, including one of the staircases.

Alderley House was constructed with ashlar and a Cotswold stone slate roof, featuring a heron's head motif (the Hale family crest) above Robert Blagden Hale's initials on the entrance porch. The house followed a double-pile plan with rooms facing outwards from a central wall, a design common in country houses from the Restoration period. The total cost of building Alderley House, including decoration, furnishings, and architect's commission, was £16,746 15s 8d, making it a modestly priced country house compared to others of the Victorian period.

For mor information: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alderley_House

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This house fits a 64x64 lot, but I think you can make it a 50x40 if you lose the church, the stables and the service building.

The church is just for pictures purpose and is empty inside.

Hope you like it.

You will need the usual CC I use:

all Felixandre cc

all The Jim

SYB

Anachrosims

Regal Sims

King Falcon railing

The Golden Sanctuary

Cliffou

Dndr recolors

Harrie cc

Tuds

Lili's palace cc

Please enjoy, comment if you like it and share pictures with me if you use my creations!

Follow me on IG: https://www.instagram.com/sims4palaces/

@sims4palaces

Early Access: 07/01/2024

Download: https://www.patreon.com/posts/108520278

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john-laurens · 4 months ago

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Francis Kinloch & Miss Stephens

I've long been curious about a "Miss Stephens" mentioned in the September 30, 1776 letter from John Laurens to Francis Kinloch:

You seem to be in such high spirits at [Wr]iting the name of fair Miss Stephens, that I have a notion there is a Liaison de Coeur in question, if so I congratulate you both with all my Heart, I have not seen her a great while but shall see her with more pleasure than ever if she is to be yours_ … As the fair Lady abovementioned is advised to go to Italy for her Health, you will probably leave Genevé sooner than you intended; in case this does not arrive in time for your perusal at Genthod, I have directed Mr Hammond to find out your Address, and forw[ard] it to you_ present my best Respects to our Country woman and believe me yours. JL.

From this brief section, we can gather a few pieces of information about the mysterious Miss Stephens:

She was American and potentially from South Carolina ("our Country woman"). At this time, each of the American colonies were often thought of and acted more like individual countries rather than a unified group of states, so it's possible that Laurens meant that Miss Stephens was from Laurens and Kinloch's shared home colony of South Carolina.

She knew both Kinloch and Laurens (whether she met them in America or Europe is impossible to say).

She had some sort of health issue that seems to have prompted her (and Kinloch's) trip to Italy.

The relationship between her and Kinloch was so serious/passionate that Laurens was under the impression that the two would be married.

Of the surviving Kinloch-related letters from this time period, this is the only mention of Miss Stephens by name. I've searched through The Papers of Henry Laurens for any mention of a woman with the last name of Stephens/Stevens, but I haven't found anything substantial. I did learn that John Stevens, the deputy postmaster of Charleston, had a daughter named Eunice, but she was married to William Brisbane in 1768.

Interestingly, there is no surviving mention of Miss Stephens in the Johannes von Müller letters that discuss Kinloch's impending Italy trip. Müller implies that he was also planning on traveling with Kinloch to Italy, had circumstances allowed it:

I must ask you for advice. You know my destination for the summer. Next winter, either Italy or, without a doubt, Genthod. - Johannes von Müller to Karl Victor von Bonstetten, 1776 My friend K is going to Italy. It is difficult; but the North American war and my work, which would be too disrupted, prevent me from accompanying him. - Johannes von Müller to his father, October 10, 1776

Müller does make reference to a matter that delayed Kinloch's travels - this delay may have been due to uncertainties around finances and the recently started American Revolutionary War:

Letters from England have convinced Mr Kinloch to move his planned journey forward to the autumn. - Johannes von Müller to his brother, June 1776

Müller later makes a reference to Kinloch leaving in the fall, which aligns more with the Laurens-Kinloch letter:

Kinloch is leaving, when? I do not know, but certainly before the 10th October, for three days to Iverdun; I am not going with him. - Johannes von Müller to Karl Victor von Bonstetten, September 18, 1776

Even in these various mentions of Kinloch's Italy trip, there is no mention of the possibility of Kinloch meeting up with a woman or even rearranging his departure due to the health of a woman. I have wondered if this could be a sort of avoidant behavior on Müller's part. Müller seems to have experienced same-sex attraction, as made particularly clear by a fake love letter scandal (a former student put on a fake male identity and exchanged passionate letters with Müller in an attempt to defraud him). Müller also clearly expressed a deep love for Kinloch, so it's possible that Müller was jealous of or saddened by the possibility of Kinloch seriously courting a woman. Interestingly, there are a couple likely mentions of Miss Stephens in some letters from Kinloch to Müller, written after Kinloch's trip to Italy:

Mon americaine, as you are pleased to style the Lady I saw at Florence, n'est point de tout mon fait_ She "altius tendit," now whenever I marry, it w[ill] be some Woman who thinks She could not possibly have done better_ besides I know a poor man who is desperately in love with the Lady in question_ - Francis Kinloch to Johannes von Müller, May 16, 1777 If ever I marry any Woman, this will be my choice; for as to the Americaine I saw at Florence, il n’en est pas question_ - Francis Kinloch to Johannes von Müller, May 30, 1777

Here are English translations of the French and Latin (French translations provided by @my-deer-friend):

My American, as you are pleased to style the Lady I saw at Florence, it is not of my doing_ She "aims higher," now whenever I marry, it w[ill] be some Woman who thinks She could not possibly have done better_ besides I know a poor man who is desperately in love with the Lady in question_ - Francis Kinloch to Johannes von Müller, May 16, 1777 If ever I marry any Woman, this will be my choice; for as to the American I saw at Florence, there's no question of it_ - Francis Kinloch to Johannes von Müller, May 30, 1777

Presumably, this woman is Miss Stephens, as she is American and met up with Kinloch in Italy (both of these points were noted in the Laurens-Kinloch letter). This presents a very different picture of the Stephens-Kinloch relationship than the one presented in the Laurens-Kinloch letter. Kinloch traveled to various cities across Italy during his trip, and he seems to have only briefly met with Miss Stephens in Florence. It does not appear here that he made the trip to Italy with a large focus on Miss Stephens or her health, as Laurens's letter suggested. Additionally, there is finally an acknowledgement of Miss Stephens by Müller - and he seems to have perhaps encouraged Kinloch's relationship with Miss Stephens (or teased him about it). In the May 16, 1777 letter, Kinloch writes that the "Mon americaine" nickname given to Miss Stephens was not his idea but rather Müller's. Perhaps Müller had met her in Geneva prior to her move to Italy. And most importantly, we finally have an answer as to why Kinloch never married the Miss Stephens he was supposedly courting - she rejected him! Kinloch was apparently a little bitter about it. He quickly deflects by making a reference to his family's motto (altius tendo - aim higher) and is in disbelief that Miss Stephens could find a better partner than him. He also notes that there is some other "poor man" who loves Miss Stephens and may marry her - clearly he sees this man as a step down from himself. My opinion? Miss Stephens 1000% could have done better than Kinloch and was right to reject him. Way to dodge that bullet, girl. I hope you lived a happy, fulfilling life without him. Me in 2024 reading about Kinloch getting rejected ~250 years ago:

While we may never know much more about the mysterious Miss Stephens, it was great to finally get some closure about her relationship (or lack thereof) with Kinloch. Thanks to @my-deer-friend for help with the German and French translations!

#Get wrecked Kinloch #Francis Kinloch #Miss Stephens #John Laurens #Johannes von Muller #Johannes von Müller #Charles Victor de Bonstetten #quote

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fetchmearum420 · 1 year ago

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This isn’t to flex or to brag.

I am genuinely scared of myself for knowing a dangerous amount of information about 1776.

I’ll be posting the whole document tomorrow.

Again, I’m not showing off. I decided to take on the challenge of seeing how much information I have in my head about 1776 and put it on a word document.

Safe to say I’m scared of myself.

#Jesus Christ #yes I am a nerd #1776 musical #1776 film #information #i feel like i’m tripping #like wtf

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kelcemenow · 1 year ago

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Touchdown - Chapter 16.

Pairing Travis Kelce x Reader

Words 1776

Warnings Nothing, a teeny bit fluffy and a teeny bit angsty.

CHAPTER 15.

CHAPTER 16.

You took one final look at yourself in the mirror. You weren’t expecting to be doing any work whilst you were in Missouri so you had to come up with an outfit with what you had brought. Luckily, you had a pair of skinny jeans and a blazer.

“I don’t have a blouse or a shirt that looks right though!” You whined.

“Hold on, baby.”

Travis made his way to his closet before emerging with a plain white t-shirt. You narrowed your eyes when you took it from him.

“Tuck it in, it’ll be smart casual, but cool.”

You looked at him with apprehension before throwing it over your head and pushing the fabric under the waistband over your jeans. It was a little big for you but when you stepped back to view yourself in the mirror, you smiled at your reflection.

“Your Mom is right; you are a fashionista.”

Travis shot you a confused look.

“What? I listened to a bit of your podcast. I had to do my research on you.”

Travis let out a laugh before embracing you from behind, his face lowered so it was pressed to yours, “You look awesome, baby. You wanna ride with me to Arrowhead?”

You craned your neck to kiss his cheek, “No, it’s okay. I should probably get a cab; I can’t run the risk anyone suspecting anything. Thank you though.”

“No sweat.” He moved to the bed to pick up his bag, “I’ve reminded the guys, well, the ones that know. It’ll be fine, baby.”

You turned around and smiled, “I know. I’m looking forward to watching you practice. You’d better put on a good show for me.” You winked.

“I always do.”

______________________________________________________________

The Chiefs’ stadium was an impressive size with a vast car park surrounding it. It was relatively empty today, aside from a couple of dozen or so vehicles parked right by the front door.

“Y/N? Hi.”

A voice echoed from the entrance. As you turned your head to follow the sound, your eyes landed on a blonde woman holding some files. Her hair was long and straight, with one side pinned back and she was dressed in a red blouse and black trousers. She seemed friendly and she shook your hand as you approached her.

“It’s so nice to have you here.”

“Thank you, Carrie.”

“Come on, I’ll take you inside, the team are just starting.”

You followed her inside the building, numerous doors and corridors passing you as the sounds of men shouting grew louder in your ear. As you emerged onto the field, your eyes widened.

“Wow, this is huge!”

“Yeah, it’s slightly bigger than your football fields back in the UK. But I think we have bigger stadiums in general.”

Carrie showed you to some seats at the side-lines and gave you a brief rundown of a standard practice session, handing you your visitors badge and some press information in a file.

“You can take as many pictures now as you want. Players won’t tend to give any interviews here but you may get to speak to Andy Reid if you ask nicely. I’ll be sticking around for a bit so feel free to ask me anything.”

“That’s great, thank you for this Carrie.” You grabbed your phone from your bag and began snapping, “I’m still quite new to this.”

She waved her hand, “Oh, don’t worry about it, we all start somewhere.”

You stood up and took a couple of steps to get closer to the action. As you did, Travis ran past you, almost knocking you over. You jumped back, whilst your gaze followed him.

“Oh, watch out! They don’t care where anyone is, they’ll just run right into you. Travis is pretty cool though, there’s worse people to be knocked over by.” She wiggled her eyebrows, “But you’ll know that, right?”

Your mouth dropped open slightly. “Sorry?”

“US Weekly? I saw you guys got pretty close after the game at Wembley?”

You could feel your cheeks burning, “Oh no, we just chatted a bit. You know what paparazzi can be like, they made something out of nothing.”

One of her perfectly groomed eyebrows was raised high, “So, you’re telling me that there’s an article in US Weekly of you two cosying up and then magically a couple of weeks later, you just happen to be in Kansas City? You’re telling me that that’s all just a massive coincidence?”

You blinked and cleared your throat, “Yeah. Weird, isn’t it?”

She narrowed her eyes a little, “Sure.”

You turned back to face the field, hiding any further redness across your cheeks. Carrie’s comment made you avoid all further eye contact with Travis and you made a mental note to yourself to keep any topics of conversation away from him.

“Although, I must say, fans are suspecting that you two are a couple?” She questioned from behind you, “But if you say there’s nothing in the rumours, I might ask him out myself. He is absolutely gorgeous.”

You felt a knot of jealousy form in the pit of your stomach as you continued to take photos of the practice, focusing mainly on Patrick, who noticed and gave you a wave.

“I’ve heard he’s really romantic. He brought his ex-girlfriend to one of our Chiefs thanksgiving parties and man, he was all over her. Couldn’t keep his hands off her, bringing her champagne, opening doors for her. She was stunning, honestly the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”

The knot tightened and a burning sensation rose in your throat. You weren’t sure if she was genuinely making conversation, or trying to get a reaction from you. Your hands began to shake and your palms were becoming clammy. Taking a deep breath, you turned around to face Carrie.

She leaned forward and whispered, “I think he’d be amazing in bed.”

Your eyes widened, “I’m sorry Carrie, but I think this discussion is highly unprofessional.”

“I’m sensing some jealousy.” She paused before her mouth twisted, “I was right, wasn’t I?”

You stared forward, unsure of what to say, your chest rising and falling with your panicked breathing, “No, it’s not like that.”

Carrie jumped up from her seat and stood next to you, looking at Travis, “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me. We wouldn’t want you to lose your job now, would we? Over a silly little crush? Besides, you live so far away, it wouldn’t really work. I’ll not say anything.”

You looked at her and forced a smile, “No, you’re right. Thank you.” You said plainly.

Your blood felt like it was boiling in your chest, rising up to your ears. You took a deep breath and began to walk to another area of the field for another angle. Your feet hit the grass with loud thuds. You could feel a lump forming in your throat but you swallowed it down to continue with your task. Andy Reid remembered you from Wembley and gladly gave you a brief interview detailing how practice was going so far. You smiled kindly and he posed for photograph with you for a social media post you were putting together.

Practice wrapped up soon after so you waited near the locker rooms in the hopes of catching Travis. He pointed his finger towards you and tipped his head in confusion when he saw you.

“Oh hey? Y/N, is it?”

“Ha ha, very funny.”

He smiled at you, “What’s up?”

You took his hands in yours and pulled him around the corner, making sure no one saw you, “That Carrie girl, she said some things that have shaken me up if I’m honest.”

He lowered his eyebrows, “What do you mean?”

“She…kept bugging me. Asking me if we were together so I played dumb but then she started talking about how hot you are and wondering if you were good in bed.”

“You told her yes, right?”

“Travis, I’m being serious. I couldn’t keep my face straight…she knows. And now I’m worried she’s going to tell someone.”

“Baby-“

“Oh! And that’s not it. I’m almost certain she has a thing for you. She basically told me that this…” You moved your finger between the two of you, “…is nothing but a silly crush and it won’t last.”

Travis looked at you, your breathing erratic and your forehead creased in worry, “Baby.” He repeated, “Stop. You have nothing to worry about. She’s no one important. It’s just you and me, okay?”

You stared up into his eyes, willing the tears not to pour down your face, “God, I swear I’m not crazy.”

“Shh, shh it’s okay.” He held your face with his hands, “Baby…listen to me. It’s all going to be fine.”

You relaxed instantly into his touch, your breathing returning to normal. He kissed your forehead, an action which you had grown to love. He made you feel safe, protected and cared for.

“Hey, I’m finished here now, let’s quickly get you to the car and we can get outta here?”

You nodded silently and followed him through the building. You hung onto his arm as he paced through the corridors and out of a side door leading to the car park. He opened the car door for you and you slid onto the seat, holding your bag on your knees. The car was silent as Travis got into the car and drove out onto the highway.

After a moment of quiet, you fidgeted with the handle on your handbag, “I’m sorry about all of this. I really am. You don’t deserve all of this stress.”

Travis quickly turned his head back and forth between you and the road, “Y/N, it’s no stress on me. I just want to make sure you’re alright.” He reached out and took your hand in his, rubbing circles into your skin. “Listen, I don’t know what you wanted to do tonight but me and Jason need to record our podcast and afterwards I was wondering if you wanted to get in on the video chat? I really want him to meet you.”

He turned to you with a nervous expression, almost pleading. You knew how much Travis’ family meant to him so for him to want to introduce you to his brother was a huge step. Your stomach fluttered with excitement.

“Are you sure?”

“Baby, I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t. But I don’t want you to do anything you’re not comfortable with?”

You pressed your lips into a smile, “You are so sweet.”

He looked at the road ahead, smiling, “Is that a yes?”

You placed your hand on his thigh, “Yes, of course!”

______________________________________________________________

Oooohhh, somethings afoot! This series will be wrapped up soon and then I've got some more ideas and some requests to go through! If you want to be added to my Touchdown taglist or my standard taglist just let me know!

Taglist @rd14 @dandelionwrites8 @keiva1000 @fantasywritersstuff @caelipartem @anacarangel @she-lives-in-her-dreams @kkrenae @kristencochefski1125 @countrygirl120983

#travis kelce x reader #travis kelce imagine #kelce x reader #nfl imagine #travis kelce fic #original story #touchdown series #travis kelce fluff

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