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angellayercake · 2 years ago

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Sam and the Series of Disastrous Dates

Sam has watched her new best friend fall in love with the man of her dreams but when will it be her turn? For OC kiss week 2023 we will follow Sam from the Pastimes for a Retired Papa series on some of her dating adventures and see if she will ever meet her dream man.

Original Female Character x Original Male Character

AO3

Day 3 - Nostalgia (TW graphic descriptions of violence from the Jack the Ripper murders)

She had finally resorted to tinder. Her friends had let her down. She certainly didn’t feel like approaching anyone in the wild. So she was sitting in her apartment one evening swiping away at endless pictures of men hiking abroad, men posing with tigers, men posing at the gym, men djing. Over and over again it was the same thing.

Only swipe right for blondes. No. Left.

Only listens to EDM. No. Left.

Has four different cities listed in location. No. Left.

Only looking for hookups. No. Left.

Only travels north of the river. No. Left

Found myself while travelling in Thailand. No. Left.

Doctor of History who runs walking tours around the city as a hobby. Maybe. She taps on his picture and reads the rest of his comments, intrigued. He had shaggy hair, dressed like a hipster geography teacher and wore glasses. He looked down to earth and approachable. Ok so swiping right then. The ‘It’s a match’ pops up instantly and the app sends her straight to the message system. Here goes nothing.

Two nights later she finds herself waiting by a bus stop in East London watching as he concludes his last tour of the day. The tourists were hanging on his every word. He had caught her eye as they arrived, offering her a smile and she was relieved to see he looked exactly like his pictures. The group started to disperse and he stopped to shake hands with an older couple who looked like they were thanking him and handing over a tip. Then he was walking towards her and she felt the beginnings of butterflies in her stomach.

‘It’s Sam isn’t it?’ He was soft spoken but sure of himself. ‘I’m Julien, it’s lovely to meet you in person.’ They had messaged enough to establish there was some kind of connection and attraction and when she had jokingly asked for a private tour he had eagerly offered to meet the next night after his last group.

‘Thanks Julian, great to meet you too, although I think I’m more excited for the tour.’ She joked and he gave her a cheeky smile.

‘Sure, how can I compete with Jack the Ripper! I’ll never be as interesting and mysterious as that guy.’ They laughed together, the slightly awkward first date atmosphere clearing so when he offered her his arm she took it smiling and let him lead her away through the bust foot traffic.

‘Whitechapel was referred to as such because of the church that dominated the skyline in the area and what started out as just a landmark became a nickname and then it stuck so the area is still named after it today long after the church is gone. Nothing else about the area could have been considered white or pure, with some of the most dangerous streets being known as the ‘blackest of the black streets.’ not only because of the lack of the now iconic gas street lamps but because of the black deeds that used to take place here.’ He wasn’t just lecturing her about history he was weaving a tapestry with his words, so vivid she could almost picture it blanketing over the cars and neon signs that filled the East End streets now, transporting her back to 1888.

‘The area was adjacent to the worst factories in London, the Tanneries and the Slaughterhouses, so noxious fumes and pollution were everywhere. This made rent cheap and attracted a deadly cocktail of immigrants, criminals and the desperate. You can imagine how high tensions were, no jobs, no way out, all just crammed in together with no hope. It was a tinderbox and the murders were about to set it ablaze.’ She was barely able to keep her eyes off him as they walked. She was captivated so when he came to a stop under the opening of what used to be Bucks Row she almost crashed into him.

‘This is where Mary Ann Nichols, the first canonical victim was found. She was found by two workers at 3.40am her throat viciously cut and her abdomen open to expose all her internal organs.’ After his almost poetic descriptions of the Victorian setting it was a shock to hear him talk about the vicious attack on the women with similar glee.

‘She met a terrible fate,’ Sam interjected wanting to stop the gruesome explanation.

‘But she was an unfortunate. So many met a terrible fate in one way or another. At least as a Ripper Woman, her name has gone down in history.’ She didn’t like how he referred to her as a ‘Ripper Woman’ like she wasn’t a human being in her own right.

‘I think she would have rather lived on even if it was the life of an unfortunate.’ He looked at her curiously like he had never considered the victims to be people in their own right before.

‘Ok, well shall we continue?’ She nodded allowing him to lead her onwards but as he continued waxing lyrical about the filthy lodging houses and notorious rendezvous of thieves, the magic never quite came back.

They meandered the Whitechapel streets pausing at areas of interest as he continued telling her the story. He really was very attractive, and if not for the unsettling feeling of something off, this could have easily been the best date she had been on in a long while.

As they reached Hanbury street, the location of the second murder he veered back on to the topic of victims injuries and Sam could only wince to herself. Once was slightly weird but twice was not something she could ignore.

‘He slashed through her abdomen you see and then he disembowelled her. But not only that, he removed her uterus. Cut it away with a precision hardly expected from professionals at the time. And he achieved that silently in a dark back alley. It’s an impressive feat, so impressive.’ He was staring at the ground at the area where he indicated her body was found like he was picturing her brutalised corpse lying there.

She looked around feeling the urge to be more aware of her surroundings. It was completely dark now, the area lit by the orange glow of the streetlamps. The side street they were currently walking down was surprisingly quiet but she could hear the traffic on the main road nearby and could see pedestrians crossing the road up ahead. The longer she was listening to him speak the more it sounded like he was talking about an obsession rather than a subject of academic interest.

She shivered as a gust of wind blew down the street stirring the litter along the gutter and he finally looked away from the pavement.

‘Getting cold are we? Let’s keep walking and see if we can get you warmed up.’ She just nods in agreement and takes his offered arm. She feels some of her anxiety begin to ebb as he leads her back towards the main road. They were heading towards Spitalfields market, a place always bustling with activity even at this time in the evening and they paused as they went peering through the windows of artisan bakeries, hipster boutiques and record shops, their conversation turning more light hearted. She began to think perhaps she was overreacting. As a tour guide he must have to add a degree of drama and exaggeration to the story to keep the tourists entertained. That was probably just seeping into his performance for her. It just felt a little intense for a one on one tour.

As they discussed their favourite records she felt even more at ease so she didn’t mind as he steered her away from the market towards Berner Street and the site of the third victim.

‘The double incident,’ he said with a flourish of his arms. ‘The only time the Ripper was ever nearly caught in action. A tired man returning from work with his horse and cart. Only able to find his way in the dark because he knew the streets like the back of his hand. If only he had had a light he would have come face to face with a legend. But that didn’t stop our Jack, did it? No he was not content with just slashing that woman’s throat so we move on, as he did that night.’ He took her by the hand, excitedly pulling her along until they reached Mitre’s Square. ‘And here, he committed his most impressive feat. In only fifteen minutes he performed a full disembowelment, smeared the corpse with faeces, mutilated her reproductive system, removed part of her kidney, too take as a trophy perhaps.’ As the list went on she felt more and more nauseous she swallowed down the taste of bile in her throat.

‘I hope she was dead before he did that to her.’ The least she could hope was that she hadn’t been in pain. ‘The poor woman.’

‘But that wasn’t all! No, he added something extra this time. He cut into her face leaving her almost unrecognisable and took her ear lobes as well. Whether he had planned to do the same to the first of that night's victims or if his near discovery sent him into a frenzy but it was clear that he was escalating and would only continue his reign of terror.’ He didn’t even acknowledge her comment even though he was looking at her intensely and she felt her anxiety creeping back.

‘Shall we continue?’ He asked, snapping back to the here and now. ‘The last place on our tour and the location of Jack’s most brutal canonical murder.’ He gestures for her to follow him and she is once again relieved to see more people around. They quickly arrived at White’s row.

‘This area has been completely rebuilt since the 1800’s’ He explains as they slow to a stroll. He stops about half way down the road looking up at the row of buildings in front of them. ‘But after comparing maps both new and old this was the location of the Ripper’s first and only indoor murder and the first with any degree of privacy here in the squalid rented room of Annie Chapman. He took his time, her clothes and shoes neatly folded in the corner and she was laid out on the bed open from thigh to chest. Her uterus, intestines and one breast piled together pillowing her head. Her other breast and liver were resting at her feet then either side her intestine and spleen were laid out. The removed skin had been as carefully folded as her clothes and left on her bedside table. But her face was the worst of the lot, completely destroyed to the point of being unrecognisable as human. Apart from her eyes, which were completely untouched and stared up at anyone who looked upon her mutilated body with a look of pure terror.’

She swallowed as nausea rose within her once again. She hoped he wasn’t this graphic when touring with the public, the dreamy grin on his face as he described the fate of the last poor women disturbed her most of all though.

‘I think that’s about as much talk of murder as I can handle for one night.’ She nervously laughed trying to ease her own tension more than anything. ‘How about we head to that pub we saw a while back? Drinks are on you though. I saw that couple slip you some notes.’ She would rather go home actually but for now her main priority was to be around other people and not be stuck down a quiet residential street with a serial killer’s number one fanboy.

He turned to her still with the far away smile.

‘Do you know what date it is today?’ She didn’t like that he didn’t even acknowledge her question.

‘Um the 8th of November?’ She was unsure why it was relevant but his smile grew wider.

‘It sure is. And that is also why I just had to do this with you tonight.’ She racked her brains to try and remember why that date would be relevant.

‘And um why is that?’ She wasn’t sure she really wanted to know.

‘Tonight it is exactly 134 years since the last murder. How could I pass up this opportunity?’ He was walking towards her now and she felt her heart rate increase. He got closer and closer and she felt rooted to the spot. ‘No one has ever really shown interest in this before Sam, and then you message me and ask to learn more about him just days before. I felt almost like fate.’ He was close enough now that he could place his hands on her shoulders and every instinct in her was screaming at her to run but she couldn’t move. He continued coming closer and closer until he brushed his lips over hers so gently but she could barely feel it, face entirely numb from fear.

‘I thought to myself that’s potential wife material right there! Now what were you saying about getting a drink?’ Whatever crazed fog had been over him before had disappeared in an instant giving her emotional whiplash. She gasped in a breath as she realised no she wasn’t about to get murdered to honour Jack the Ripper, she was just on a date with a weirdly intense nerd and she had to blink away the tears of relief that formed in her eyes.

‘Yeah right, come on then.’ She takes him by the hand and leads him back in the direction they came.

Later on the train home she deletes tinder. Never again.

#ockiss23 #pastimes for a retired papa #eventual #the band ghost fic #my writing #ockissweek

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brookstonalmanac · 1 month ago

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Events 11.21 (1950-2000)

1950 – Two Canadian National Railway trains collide in northeastern British Columbia in the Canoe River train crash; the death toll is 21, with 17 of them Canadian troops bound for Korea. 1953 – The Natural History Museum, London announces that the "Piltdown Man" skull, initially believed to be one of the most important fossilized hominid skulls ever found, is a hoax. 1959 – American disc jockey Alan Freed, who had popularized the term "rock and roll" and music of that style, is fired from WABC radio over allegations he had participated in the payola scandal. 1961 – The "La Ronde" opens in Honolulu, first revolving restaurant in the United States. 1962 – The Chinese People's Liberation Army declares a unilateral ceasefire in the Sino-Indian War. 1964 – The Verrazzano-Narrows Bridge opens to traffic. At the time it is the world's longest bridge span. 1964 – Second Vatican Council: The third session of the Roman Catholic Church's ecumenical council closes. 1967 – Vietnam War: American General William Westmoreland tells news reporters: "I am absolutely certain that whereas in 1965 the enemy was winning, today he is certainly losing." 1969 – U.S. President Richard Nixon and Japanese Premier Eisaku Satō agree on the return of Okinawa to Japanese control in 1972. The U.S. retains rights to bases on the island, but these are to be nuclear-free. 1969 – The first permanent ARPANET link is established between UCLA and SRI. 1970 – Vietnam War: Operation Ivory Coast: A joint United States Air Force and Army team raids the Sơn Tây prisoner-of-war camp in an attempt to free American prisoners of war thought to be held there. 1971 – Indian troops, partly aided by Mukti Bahini (Bengali guerrillas), defeat the Pakistan army in the Battle of Garibpur. 1972 – Voters in South Korea overwhelmingly approve a new constitution, giving legitimacy to Park Chung Hee and the Fourth Republic. 1974 – The Birmingham pub bombings kill 21 people. The Birmingham Six are sentenced to life in prison for the crime but subsequently acquitted. 1977 – Minister of Internal Affairs Allan Highet announces that the national anthems of New Zealand shall be the traditional anthem "God Save the Queen" and "God Defend New Zealand". 1979 – The United States Embassy in Islamabad, Pakistan, is attacked by a mob and set on fire, killing four. 1980 – A deadly fire breaks out at the MGM Grand Hotel in Paradise, Nevada (now Bally's Las Vegas). Eighty-five people are killed and more than 650 are injured in the worst disaster in Nevada history. 1985 – United States Navy intelligence analyst Jonathan Pollard is arrested for spying after being caught giving Israel classified information on Arab nations. He is subsequently sentenced to life in prison. 1986 – National Security Council member Oliver North and his secretary start to shred documents allegedly implicating them in the Iran–Contra affair. 1990 – Bangkok Airways Flight 125 crashes on approach to Samui Airport, killing 38. 1992 – A major tornado strikes the Houston, Texas area during the afternoon. Over the next two days the largest tornado outbreak ever to occur in the US during November spawns over 100 tornadoes. 1995 – The Dayton Agreement is initialed at the Wright-Patterson Air Force Base, near Dayton, Ohio, ending three and a half years of war in Bosnia and Herzegovina. 1996 – Humberto Vidal explosion: Thirty-three people die when a Humberto Vidal shoe shop in Río Piedras, Puerto Rico explodes. 1998 – Finnish satanist Jarno Elg kills a 23-year-old man and performs a ritual-like cutting and eating of body parts in Hyvinkää, Finland.

#Events

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countzeroor · 2 years ago

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Rivers of London: Deadly Ever After - Graphic Novel Review

Deadly Ever After is the first Rivers of London story to be published after Amongst Our Weapons, and the first to move the timeline forward after that point, and a little past that point as well. It’s also one that moves the focus of the story clearly beyond The Folly, with the focus being more on the River Goddesses themselves. (more…) “”

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#2020s in comics #Andrew Cartmel #Ben Aaronovich #graphic novels #Rivers of London

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readingforsanity · 2 years ago

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The Family Remains | Lisa Jewell | Published 2022 | *SPOILERS*

From the #1 New York Times bestselling author Lisa Jewell comes an intricate and affecting novel about twisted marriages, fractured families, and deadly obsessions in this standalone sequel to The Family Upstairs.

Early one morning on the shore of the Thames, DCI Samuel Owusu is called to the scene of a gruesome discovery. When Owusu sends the evidence for examination, he learns the bones are connected to a cold case that left three people dead on the kitchen floor in a Chelsea mansion thirty years ago.

Rachel Rimmer has also received a shock - news that her husband, Michael, has been found dead in the cellar of his house in France. All signs point to an intruder, and the French police need her to come urgently to answer questions about Michael and his past that she very much doesn’t want to answer.

After fleeing London thirty years ago in the wake of a horrific tragedy, Lucy Lamb is finally coming home. While she settles in with her children and is just about to purchase their first-ever house, her brother takes off to find the boy from their shared past whose memory haunts their present.

As they all race to discover answers to these convuluted mysteries, they will come to find that they’re connected in ways they could never imagined.

In this masterful standalone sequel to her haunting The Family Upstairs, Lisa Jewell proves she is writing at the height of her powers with another jaw-dropped, intricate and affecting novel about the lengths we will go to protect the ones we love and uncover the truth.

We once again meet with Lucy, Henry as well as two new perspectives: that of DI Owusu and Rachel, Lucy’s ex-husband’s second wife.

The events take place immediately after the completion of the first book. Miller has planned for Libby to go to Botswana to meet Phin, her biological father. Henry wants to tag along, but is told by Lucy that it might not be a good idea given his history with Phin, and that Miller may have wanted it to be a more romantic gesture for him and Libby. But, they learn that Phin has left Botswana to an unknown location.

Henry works to find out where he went, and with help from a review from a woman who had visited the safari where Phin works, finds he had fled to Chicago, where he lives when he isn’t in Africa. Henry books a flight immediately and goes to Chicago.

In the meantime, we meet Samuel Owusu, a detective inspector. He has been tasked with finding out the identity of remains found on the River Thames by a mudlarker. Though the remains are old, they are found to be Birdie, the evil woman from the first book. Samuel works hard to find out what happened to Birdie, and is eventually led to a variety of characters. He speaks with Libby and Miller, along with locating members of Birdie’s family as well as Justin Redding, from the first book as well.

We also are introduced to Rachel. She met Michael, Lucy’s ex-husband and Marco’s father. He seemed like a wonderful guy, and they’re immediately taken with each other. Though it was meant to be a short fling, they ultimately ended up getting married only two months after becoming an official couple. On the honeymoon, Rachel invites Michael to partake in some light BDSM, which causes him to react angrily. For the remainder of their honeymoon, they barely speak to one another let alone have any intercourse. When they return to London, she leaves to go back to her apartment and doesn’t hear from him for three days. After a bit of success, she finds herself returning home to her apartment she shares with Michael, only to find that the dinner he had made that evening had been thrown and left for her to find. She awakes to find Michael brutally raping her. She leaves once again and returns to her apartment.

Henry arrives in Chicago, and a few days later, Lucy with her two children also go to Chicago to try to locate him. Lucy is worried about what Henry will do once he finds Phin, and she is desperate to find him. They do eventually locate Henry, who says that he never did find Phin.

Everyone returns to London, and Henry is visited by DI Owusu, and says that they had found Justin’s body with a suicide note, professing that he was the one responsible for Birdie’s death, and that Henry is likely the person who moved the bones but couldn’t say for sure. Henry goes along with this. Additionally, we learn that Rachel had been protecting Lucy for months, by leading the investigation away from her. Rachel had inexplicably seen Lucy after she had killed Michael in the events of the last book, and kept that secret. They meet each other officially, and celebrate together after the case is officially closed.

Lucy purchases a home, and on the day she gets the keys, Phin arrives at her front door for the reunion that Henry planned after he had found him Chicago. They have come to terms with what happened, each seeing the other differently. While Phin wasn’t quite prepared for the reunion, the reason he fled Africa, Henry talks him into it, and it works out in the end.

Discussion Questions

1. When Phin does missing, Lucy reaches out to his sister, Clemency, who brings up Phin and Henry’s complicated relationship. Lucy thinks to herself, “Twenty-six years is long enough for memories to grow cobwebby, abstract. Twenty-six years is long enough to doubt your recollection of things, to wonder if maybe things really did happen the way you think they happened.” Do you think Lucy’s questioning of her own memories is similar to Henry’s reimagining of the past? What are the similarities and differences in the ways Henry and Lucy Lab deal with their past traumas? 26 years is a long time. It’s easy for things to be remembered differently than how they really happened, but for them, the trauma they endured for years, it is less likely they would have a hard time recollecting what truly happened. But, Lucy wants to move forward while Henry is trying to live in the past.

2. Do you think Rachel and Lucy will continue to be friends, or do you think their bond in common is too painful for them to maintain a relationship. I think so. They are trauma bonded, as it is. They married the same narcissistic man, and Rachel did everything she could to protect Lucy. Not every “second wife” would do this for the “first wife”.

3. Do you agree with Justin that Henry is ‘poor Henry’ and that the Lamb children were all victims. Whatever happened inside that house, none of them deserves to be punished for it. Cite examples as to why you do or do not believe Justin’s assessment. Absolutely. 100%. They were literal children. Their actions, while yes, they were bad at the end, were all done in self-defense. If they continued on the way that they were, they would have died from malnutrition.

4. Lucy thinks to herself that she hates herself for putting Libby int his position, for coming into Libby’s blameless, uncomplicated life and tainting it with subterfuge and darkness. Do you think Libby would agree with this and resents her birth mother? Do you think Lucy is able to forgive herself by the end of the novel? I don’t think Libby would agree. Unlike a lot of adoptive children, Libby is happy to have her birth family in her life. I think they all feel close given what happened to them all those years ago.

5. When Det. Owusu lets Henry go, Henry has a desire to be reunited with his family and go home. Were you surprised by Henry’s reaction here? What did you think Henry was going to do in this situation? Yes, I was actually. At this point, we hadn’t learned that Henry found Phin, so I assumed that he was just giving up the search and returning home to London to return to his life. But, we find out later he accomplished what he had set out to do. There was nothing left BUT for him to return home with his family.

6. During her police interview, Lucy tells Det. Owusu that she should have killed Birdie. If I had killed her, I would have been proud. Does this change your perception of Lucy as a character? Not at all. Nothing any of these characters could do would make me change my perception of them.

7. Toward the end of the novel, Henry recalibrates Birdie’s murder just as he reimagined his parents’ murder and his own identity many years ago. How is this recalibration different from Michael’s gaslighting of Rachel? Henry goes along with what Justin wrote in his suicide note, stating that he was responsible for her murder, not Henry. Henry just went along with what was stated. There is widely different than gaslighting.

8. Were you surprised that Lucy helped the police find Henry in Chicago? Why do you thinks he helped them? Would Henry have done the same, if their roles were reversed? If roles were reversed, I absolutely think Henry would have done the same thing. But, she was truly worried about his whereabouts. They are siblings and care about one another.

9. In Justin’s suicide note, he says that Henry had “Such a strong sense of right and wrong. More than anyone else in that house Henry knew where the moral high ground should be and was constantly begging the grown-ups to try to find it.” Do you agree with Justin’s evaluation of Henry? Do you think Henry skirts the moral line so well because he understands where the moral high ground should be? Or do you think Justin is exaggerating here to help clear Henry’s name? No, I don’t think that is quite true. While Henry was old enough to know the differences between right and wrong, the line was always blurred with Henry because of his obsession with Phin.

10. What was your reaction to Michael’s death being deemed an organized crime murder? Were you expecting Lucy or Rachel to be held responsible for it? I was expecting them to find Lucy and arrest her. She was worried about it herself, so I thought that was for sure where it was heading. But if Rachel hadn’t dug into what he REALLY did for work, this likely would have happened despite no evidence being found of her being there that day.

11. For many years, Henry blaming himself for making Phin sick with a love potion, but when the two men reunite, Phin tells Henry, “I wasn’t ill from your love potion, Henry. I was ill from malnutrition. From dehydration. It was their fault I was ill. Not yours.” Do you think Phin is right to fully blame the adults, or do you think Henry is responsible for some of the harm that occurred in the house? Phin is right to blame them. Henry wasn’t responsible for what happened to Phin. His father and Birdie were responsible for it.

12. At the end of the novel, Henry takes on characteristics of the man he met in Chicago, Kris Doll. Why do you think Henry, despite his previous moment of clarity about his self-worth, begins to take on his new identity? Do you think his obsession with Kris is ominous, or simply due to the trauma he experienced as a child? It’s all he’s known. For years, he lived as Phin and even changed his personality and looks to match. He tried to live as himself, but as I mentioned, the lines were always blurred with Henry and he isn’t quite sure how to be himself.

13. Do you think Phin meeting Libby and potentially returning to the lives of the Lamb family will allow them all to heal? Do you see a brighter future for the Lamb family with the re-emergence of Phin? Yes, I believe so. They went through so much together, and now Libby knows the truth about her brief 10 month upbringing them. Why reunite them, just to take it away again? That would be stupid for the entire plot of the book.

14. Do you think Henry will ever be able to live as his true-self, without adopting anybody else’s personality traits? Why or why not? No, I don’t think so. I answered in a question above.

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verschlimmbesserung · 1 year ago

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In the tags:

"regarding the latest comic (achtung spoilers)

yes! ive read it! it is a lot better than deadly ever after but to be fair that is not very difficult and doesnt mean all that much, but still it is markedly better. its quite a fun story, i liked the first two issues with the figuring-out-whats-going-on best and most of the complaints i have are rather minor. for example at one point vestigia are presented as what looks like a pink-glowy video game checkpoint.

nightingale disappears at the start of issue 4 with no further explanation probably to visit faerie and negotiate with some fae, or maybe to steal a dragon egg. what exactly he was doing isnt really explained if i remember correctly. in any case i thought it was weird.

the resolution also relies on deux-ex-machina fae, which i found somewhat weird since as far as i know - and listen i might have forgotten something from the books or the other comics - they dont really know any fae they can just ask to come prosecute their criminals for them, so i found that slightly weird in a “where do they come from how do they know them am i missing something or is it really never explained” way.

also didnt like the part where peter basically kidnaps jimi hendrix's guitar and while he admits that hes “overstepping police authority a bit” it seems quite frankly a level of unrealistic im not really ready to willingly suspend my disbelief for.

jesus christ i cant believe these people didnt tell him to come back with seven warrants before letting him take that guitar anyway!

its better than deadly ever after. there are worse comics. its quite a nice story.

im not sure i like the very casual addition of dragons (wyverns) into rivers of london canon, i feel like that should have been a bit of a bigger deal? wasnt there that part in amongst our weapons where the. river? at the old factory playground talks about there having been dragons once upon a time thousands of years ago or something like that?

i had fun reading it!

id say its the second worst comic after deadly ever after but i liked the art in this one better than in monday monda im not sure id recommend buying it though"

...

okay... glad to read that!

#rivers of london #rivers of london comics

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dispatchdcu · 3 years ago

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Rivers of London: Deadly Ever After #1 Review

Rivers of London: Deadly Ever After #1 Review #riversoflondon #Amazon #riversoflondondeadlyeverafter #titan #titanbooks #titancomics #comics #comicbooks #news #art #info #NCBD #comicbooknews #previews #reviews

Writer: Celeste Bronfman Created By: Ben Aaronovitch Pencils: José María Beroy Inks: David Cabeza Colors: Jordi Escuin Llorach Letters: Jim Campbell Price: $3.99 Release Date: May 18, 2022 Reviewer: Lukke Sweet Rivers of London: Deadly Ever After #1 by Celeste Bronfman adds another chapter to the greater story originally created by Ben Aaronovitch. The story opens with a scene set in 1897,…

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#Reviews #Rivers of London #Rivers of London: Deadly Ever After #Rivers of London: Deadly Ever After 1 #Rivers of London: Deadly Ever After 1 Review #Titan Books

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scotianostra · 2 years ago

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September 10th 1771 saw the birth of Mungo Park at Foulshiels, near Selkirk.

Mungo Park was the seventh child of a well-to-do farmer. He was apprenticed to a local surgeon and undertook medical studies in Edinburgh. With a medical diploma and a desire for fame and fortune, Park set off for London, and through his brother-in-law, William Dickson, a Covent Garden seedsman, he got his opportunity. He was introduced to Sir Joseph Banks, a famed English botanist and explorer who had circumnavigated the world with Captain James Cook.

A life of adventure appealed to him, so he volunteered his services to the "African Association", a scientific organization dedicated to the exploration of the interior of West Africa.

At the time of Mungo's first journey, the interior of the continent of Africa was entirely unknown, due to very difficult traveling conditions and the lack of navigable rivers. According to the natives, it was said that a great river, called the Niger flowed between the Gulf of Guinea and the Sahara, but it was not known whether it flowed east or west, or whether it joined with any other rivers.

The mouth of the Niger, in modern Nigeria, formed a delta so broad and marshy that it was not recognized as the mouth of a great river. The natives claimed that the Niger was a major trading route and there were stories of wealthy and mysterious cities on it, such as Timbuktu, that no white man had ever seen. The idea of exploring the region was very intriguing, but the climate was so deadly and the traveling conditions so difficult, no white man had succeeded in penetrating the area.

After becoming acclimated to the region, Mungo set out with a small group of native guides from the Gambia river, one of the few navigable rivers in Africa. From that point, they journeyed on land, and succeeded in reaching the Niger near its western source. He followed its course over 300 miles to the east before returning over much of the same route he had come.

His three year journey was fraught with difficulties and dangers and he was imprisoned and nearly perished on several occasions. The full story of his travels was captured in his book, Travels in the Interior of Africa, which became on his return an immediate best-seller.

After four years back in Scotland Mungo agreed to return to Africa with the purpose of following the Niger all the way to its mouth, he proposed to learn Arabic, the language of trade in the region. On his second journey he traveled with a large party including both Europeans and natives.

The second journey proved to be a disaster since it was far more difficult to travel with a large group than a small one. Many of the Europeans became sick and died, the natives were hostile to the large, armed group, and provisions were more difficult to come by. Within a year a large number of the party had died, and Mungo's last communication was dated near the end of 1805.

Some time afterward the story was told of Mungo's fate. He and the remaining group had reached the Niger and successfully traveled many miles by boat. Eventually there boat was lost in the rapids, and they were attacked by unfriendly natives. Only a single native guide survived the journey.

You can read the whole story with full details of how he met his end here https://www.newworldencyclopedia.org/entry/Mungo_Park

Pics include his statue in Selkirk and Monument to him at Jebba , Kwara State, Nigeria

#Scotland #scottish #explorer #physician #surgeon #writer #history

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longboxcomics · 2 years ago

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Rivers of London: Deadly Ever After #3 "Chapter 3: A Grimm Wish"

By Celeste Bronfman, Andrew Cartmel, José María Beroy, David Cabeza, Jordi Escuin Llorach, and Jim Campbell

#Rivers of London: Deadly Ever After #Celeste Bronfman #Andrew Cartmel #José María Beroy #David Cabeza #Jordi Escuin Llorach #Jim Campbell #Titan Comics #Limited series #2023 #rating: 4

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graphicpolicy · 2 years ago

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Preview: Rivers of London: Deadly Ever After #4

Rivers of London: Deadly Ever After #4 preview. When Chelsea and Olympia accidentally break an enchantment in the woods, deadly fairy tales from a mysterious old book begin coming to life #comics #comicbooks

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#andrew cartmel #ben aaronovitch #celeste bronfman #comic books #Comics #david m. buisan #jose maria beroy #rivers of london #rivers of london: deadly ever after #titan comics

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downthetubes · 3 years ago

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New Rivers of London series, Deadly Ever After, launches from Titan next month, hot on the heels of new novel

Titan Comics has released a sneak peek at Rivers of London – Deadly Ever After #1 – the unmissable next chapter in the bestselling Rivers of London series. Cover A Jung-Geun Yoon Written by Rivers of London creator Ben Aaronovitch, Andrew Cartmel and Celeste Bronfman, with art by Jose Maria Beroy, the latest series launches in comic shops on 18th May 2022. When Chelsea and Olympia accidentally…

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#Andrew Cartmel #Ben Aaronovitch #Celeste Bronfman #downthetubes News #José María Beroy #Rivers of London #Titan Comics

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rpgsandbox · 4 years ago

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After thousands of votes, we now have our annual list of most anticipated tabletop RPGs for the coming year. As I do every year, I recently took nominations for the most anticipated tabletop RPGs for the coming year, and then opened the floor to voting. Here are this year's winners - the most anticipated tabletop RPGs of 2021! Previous winners include 13th Age (2013), Star Wars Force & Destiny (2015), Rifts for Savage Worlds (2016), Trudvang Chronicles (2017), Vampire: the Masquerade 5th Edition (2018), Savage Worlds Adventure Edition (2019), and Dune: Adventures in the Imperium (2020). Who will join their ranks this year? Read on to find out!

10. SLA Industries, 2nd Edition (Nightfall Games) SLA Industries is a role-playing game of urban horror, set in The World of Progress; a vast world of ruin and decay. At the very heart of this world lies Mort City, a false beacon of hope upon an otherwise dystopian planet. Under the skin of this sprawling city are the Operatives of SLA Industries. These agents, investigators and trained soldiers do the company’s dirty work, cleaning the streets of serial killers, cultists and Carrien vermin, whilst being sure to make the right impression for the cameras. The original was published over 25 years ago.

9. Werewolf: The Apocalypse 5th Edition (Renegade Studios/Paradox) Werewolf: The Apocalypse takes place in a fictional version of our Earth: the World of Darkness. In the World of Darkness, werewolves, vampires, magicians, and monsters are all living among us. An entire supernatural world hidden in plain sight. You are one of these monsters, pretending to be human but fighting for survival and supremacy among mysteries and conspiracies that threaten the existence of humanity.

8. Brancalonia - The Spaghetti Fantasy RPG (Acheron Books) An all-Italian medieval, roguish and picaresque setting for the 5th Edition of the most famous role-playing game of all time. This game will be releases in Italian and English. “Spaghetti Fantasy” is a new fantasy genre: imagine a Spaghetti Western – with swords instead of guns – based on Italian folklore, history and pop culture.

7. Pathfinder for Savage Worlds (Pinnacle Entertainment Group) A bombshell announcement in November 2020, the Pathfinder for Savage Worlds core rulebook will include an adaptation of the Savage Worlds game mechanics for players to make and evolve characters, and for game masters to create games of their own design, for play in Pathfinder’s world of Golarion. The Pathfinder for Savage Worlds boxed set—as typical for Pinnacle Entertainment Group—will include the core rulebook as well as other elements of game play for Savage Worlds like Bennies, Action Deck, Templates, Game Master Screen with adventure, Powers Cards, and more. Kickstarter coming this month, with a release in late 2021.

6. Rivers of London (Chaosium) At #7 on this list last year, Rivers of London has claimed one place for 2021! Based on the novels by Ben Aaronovitch, and powered by a customized version of the Basic Roleplaying System, the Rivers of London series follows an ordinary constable turned magician’s apprentice, as he solves crimes across London in a sensational blend of inventive urban fantasy, gripping mystery thriller, and hilarious fantasy caper.

5. Level Up: Advanced 5th Edition (A5E) (EN Publishing) Ready to level up your 5th Edition game? Welcome to Level Up, the standalone 'advanced 5E' backwards compatible tabletop RPG coming in 2021! A crunchier, more flexible version of the 5E ruleset which you know and love. If you love 5E but would like a little more depth to the ruleset, Level Up is the game for you!

4. King Arthur Pendragon 6th Edition (Chaosium) Pendragon was Greg Stafford's masterpiece, and this 6th edition has been a decade in the making. "Pendragon veterans will find that the fundamentals of the game remain the same, with subtle modifications reflecting the culmination of nearly three decades’ refinement of Greg’s vision of Arthurian fantasy." You can can download a free adventure and preview at the link. This is Chaosium's second entry in this year's list.

3. The One Ring 2nd Edition (Free League) Taking over the franchise from Cubicle 7, Free League will be updating both The One Ring and Adventures in Middle Earth, as well as producing Moria: The Long Dark. This is second edition and continuation of the game published by Cubicle 7, combined with the open-world elements found in their Forbidden Lands roleplaying game. And now, for the first time ever, we have a joint winner! The following two games got exactly the same number of votes - which, with thousands of votes being cast, is as improbable as it is true! Congratulations to them both on being 2021's most anticipated tabletop RPG. Even if one of them is on the list for the third year in a row!

1 (joint). Dune: Adventures in The Imperium (Modiphius Entertainment) Last year's winner, and the third year running it has appeared in the Top 10, Dune: Adventures in the Imperium is 2021's joint most anticipated tabletop RPG! The Dune: Adventures in the Imperium roleplaying game takes you into a far future where fear is the mind killer so be sure to keep your wits about you. The Imperium is a place of deadly duels, feudal politics and mysterious abilities in a universe where a blade can change the fortunes of millions. Build your House, carve your place in the universe or rebuild an ancient lineage and fight for the Imperial throne.

1 (joint). Twilight 2000 (Free League) The top two entries in this list were neck and neck. Free League's second entry on the list the year gets the joint top spot as the coming year's most anticipated tabletop roleplaying game! Another few minutes of voting, and who knows what would have happened? But as it is, both got the same number of votes. Just like the original game, the new edition of Twilight: 2000 is set in a Poland devastated by war, but the game also offers an alternative Swedish setting, as well as tools for placing the game anywhere in the world.

#RPG #gaming news #SLA Industries #Werewolf the Apocalypse #Brancalonia #Pathfinder #Savage Worlds #Rivers of London #Level Up #Pendragon #The One Ring #Lord of the Rings #Dune #Twilight 2000

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riversofmars · 4 years ago

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Thank you so much for your lovely comments and encouragement. I honestly didn't expect such a huge response to an opening chapter so I'm absolutely thrilled to have you all along for the ride <3

Chapter 2: The World’s Turned Upside Down

The Library, 52nd Century

River closed the door to the kids bedroom - alone for the first time since the Doctor had saved her to the Library core - and she finally allowed her composure to slip. She pressed her hand to her mouth and swallowed a sob, afraid the kids might hear. She had been proud of herself for staying strong all the way through her final adventure. The moment the young Doctor had turned up instead of the one her message had been meant to reach, she had realised things would not go according to plan. For the Doctor, it had been the first time they had met. He hadn’t known her yet so she couldn’t tell him why she was really at the Library as she had intended. She also hadn’t been able to take comfort in seeing him though she had so badly needed to. Looking at the Doctor and having him not recognise her was a most cruel trick of fate after everything she’d been through.

At the time, threatened by the deadly shadows of the Vashta Nerada, she had kept her focus on the task at hand: carry out the mission, get access to the Library, get her answers once everything was wrapped up. She had decided she could always fill her Doctor in later; but she hadn’t anticipated this might be a one way trip. When it got to it, when things had fallen into place and she had finally understood how her life had always lead up to this, it had been far too late. Things had been beyond her control. She had to sacrifice her future to ensure her past. The truth of it was only sinking in now that she had space and time to think about it.

River cradled her diary to her chest as she made her way down the corridor to the living room. She dropped onto the sofa and buried her face in her hands as she started to cry; for herself, for her future, for her family. Suddenly, the Doctor’s sorrow at her leaving Darillium made so much more sense. He had known that she wouldn’t return but he hadn’t been able to tell her. Rationally, she knew he couldn’t have told her about her fate, but her sadness gave way to anger regardless. If she had known, she would have made different choices. It wasn’t her own fate she was angry about. As for as dying went, this wasn’t so bad: she was safe, immortal even. Though she was trapped, it beat dying properly. Had she known what was to come, she would not have kept secrets from her husband the way she had.

River trusted Vastra, Jenny and Strax to keep her son safe, and eventually, surely, they would contact the Doctor when they realised she wouldn’t return. He would be angry with her for keeping her secret and rightfully so. But eventually, hopefully, he would forgive her and raise their son. They would be together: Her family. River, however, would never be able to hold her child again. The realisation overwhelmed her and she struggled to breath, her sobs catching in her throat.

Alone with her own thoughts, River allowed herself a moment of weakness; she was dead after all. She could rest from being the strong, self-assured woman she had had to be all her life.

River couldn’t be sure how long it had been when she ran out of tears to cry. She just sat for a while, staring into space that she knew was nothing but strings of numbers. She had been saved to the greatest hard drive in history, everything around her was pure data and so was she.

A realisation came to her like a flash of lightning and she jumped to her feet: She was where she had meant to end up. Quickly, River made her way to the bookshelf on the other side of the room. She was in the biggest Library in the universe with all its knowledge at her disposal. Just because she was dead didn’t mean the forces threatening her husband and child had disappeared.

A new kind of determination gripped her and she pulled book after book from a shelf, that responded to her thoughts of what she was looking for. This was just another stop. Her Doctor was out there still and sooner or later, he would need her help and come looking for her. She wasn’t going to be empty handed when he arrived.

——

London, Late 19th Century

“Jenny!“ Vastra rushed to her wife’s side while the Doctor remained rooted to the spot, trying to work out what was going on.

“Doctor?“ Yaz asked, awaiting some sort of instruction or at least a reaction from her but she didn’t get one. So she hurried to the other unconscious figure. She didn’t recognise what species he was but he seemed to be breathing. They had probably been stunned, Yaz concluded, as there was no blood or other marks of force on their bodies. She took pride in her constantly improving observational skills. This was far better police training than her probationary work ever had been. She looked up to the Doctor who was still staring at the cot, holding on to a stitched piece of cloth. “Are you okay?“ Yaz asked, unsettled by the distinct lack of reaction on her friend’s part.

“Vastra, what is going on here?“ The Doctor’s voice was hollow when she finally spoke. All manner of thoughts were running through her mind but the most obvious explanation couldn’t possibly be true. She tightened her grip around the prayer leaf.

“Doctor, I will explain but first…“ Vastra had pulled Jenny up against herself and pressed a kiss to her forehead, as she tried to gently shake her awake.

“No, explain NOW!“ The Doctor yelled, losing her temper for one terrifying moment that made Vastra and Yaz jump.

“Doctor, let’s look after these people first.“ Yaz stood quickly and placed her hand on her friend’s shoulder, bewildered at the uncharacteristic outburst. The flash of fear across the lizard woman’s face shook her. It was an unwelcome reminder that the Doctor had changed in the nineteen years of prison. Something was weighing her down. They had seen flashes of it in their fight against the Daleks but there had been no opportunity to address it at the time. Now, it became painfully obvious that something was wrong with her. A deep anger had taken root and was bubbling to the surface.

“This doesn’t concern you, Yaz.“ The Doctor bit back and shrugged her hand away. She used her sonic to scan the cot for clues before turning back to Vastra. “Who’s baby was sleeping in that cot?“ She pressed through gritted teeth and Vastra couldn’t bring herself to speak, her throat closing up with sorrow. They had failed the Doctor and River.

“Vastra…“ Jenny mumbled, drawing her attention as she came round slowly. “Someone came… the baby, is the baby okay?“ She asked, her voice weak. Vastra couldn’t answer her wife, she just looked up to the Doctor.

“Doctor, we are so sorry…“ She croaked, her voice full of guilt.

“Doctor?“ Yaz watched and wasn’t following.

“So it worked, the emergency beacon…“ Jenny mumbled, still in a haze. She looked to the Doctor and recognised them from the age of her eyes and the sorrow she found there. A new face was of no consequence.

“You triggered it?“ The Doctor asked.

“Professor Song left it… But we expected you to be…“ Vastra tried to explain that she wasn’t the Doctor they had expected. She was so much older and it only made it harder. She couldn’t bare to think just how long ago Darillium was for the Doctor at this point.

“Where is she? Where is River? Who’s baby is it?“ The Doctor tried her best to keep her voice steady. She needed confirmation. It was so glaringly obvious but also too impossible to believe. How could River have kept this from her?

“Does it really need saying?“ Vastra voice broke and the so did the Doctor’s hearts.

The Doctor hurried down the stairs, she needed space. She couldn’t face the others and she couldn’t keep looking at the empty cot. She tightened her grip around the prayer leaf, her knuckles turning white. She took two steps at a time, running like the devil was on her heels. This was too big, too painful to face and so she ran - until the brittle stairs gave way under her heavy steps and she put her foot through them, crashing through the bottom half of the staircase.

“Oh my God, Doctor!“ Yaz hurried after her, careful not to cause any more damage. She reached under her arms and pulled her up. “Doctor, what’s going on?“ Yaz was at a complete loss, she had never seen the Doctor react like this, not even when they were dealing with the Master. There was genuinely panic and fear in her eyes. The Doctor pulled away from Yaz without a word.

“Doctor.“ Vastra appeared on the landing above and the Doctor’s eyes snapped up to her. “Please don’t run away from this.“ The detective pleaded.

“Don’t talk to me right now!“ The Doctor yelled with anger the likes of which Yaz had never seen. “You don’t get to talk to me right now!“ She struggled down the rest of the stairs without looking back.

“Doctor!“ Yaz called after her as she just carried on, darting to the front door.

“Give her a moment…“ Vastra realised there was no point in trying to stop her, she needed a moment to herself and that was the least they could give her. “In the meantime, would you mind helping me with the others?“

The Doctor slammed the doors of the TARDIS and received a scolding hum for her actions. She ignored it and dropped onto on of the steps in the console room. There she unfolded the prayer leaf again, holding it close as her vision blurred with tears. The TARDIS gave a concerned hum but the Doctor couldn’t speak to answer. She knew the TARDIS understood, their psychic link was stronger than words and the Doctor couldn’t bring herself to phrase everything she was feeling.

She thought back to the last time she had seen River. They had watched the sunrise on Darillium after twenty-four wonderful years there, and then, she had left. River hadn’t been able to keep her promise of return as the Doctor had already known at the time. The Doctor had waited regardless and had set the table for breakfast on the balcony on the off-chance River had managed to trick fate. It had been a long, lonely wait. Eventually the Doctor had busied themselves by fixing up a new body for Nardole when the loneliness was getting too much. For many sleep cycles they’d brought breakfast back to an empty room, setting it on the balcony again and again. The Doctor even did on the day they left Darillium for good and headed to New York to try and clear up the time distortions. It would have been a first step to visiting the Ponds for some comfort after losing their daughter for good, but it had never played out like that.

The Doctor took a deep breath as she considered what River had done after Darillium and before going to the Library. Was this it? Or where they in fact even earlier in her timeline and River had just never told her that the had had a child? Both options were far too painful to contemplate. She was already reeling from imprisonment, the destruction of Gallifrey and learning about the gaps in her past. How was she to cope with this? Her world had turned upside down, inside out, more time than she could count but this was different. How was she to do this without River to rely upon.

“Here we go.“ Yaz helped Strax sit up on a chair in the mostly untouched drawing room.

“I don’t require human assistance.“ The Sonatan protested but Vastra shushed him as she helped Jenny to the sofa.

“That’s quite enough of that Strax, we need to make sure you’re both uninjured.“ The lady of the house stated firmly. Jenny, however, was more concerned with her wife’s wellbeing.

“We’re fine. They only stunned us, but what about you?“ She asked as she reached out and touched her fingertips to Vastra’s cheek brushing off dried scales. Yaz watched the tender gestured as she learned more about the Doctor’s friends. “Your skin appears to be…“

Vastra straightened herself up and rubbed her face to find herself shedding more scales.

“It appears the blast of whatever that bomb was aged me…“ She observed, witnessing the sped up effects of her amphibian skin renewing itself. “Not to worry, dear, I still have a lot of life left in me, perhaps our life spans are more aligned now.“ She gave her a soft smile and her hand a squeeze.

“So you are the Doctor’s friends?“ Yaz spoke up at last as it seemed they had all recovered from the attack they had been subjected to.

“Old friends, yes. By the look of them, it has been a long time indeed…“ Vastra commented with an apologetic smile. They didn’t mean to keep the Doctor’s young friend in the dark but she had to see to Jenny and Strax first.

“So you knew her before she changed?“ Yaz concluded. She had met a few people from the Doctor’s past now, Jack, the Master… she was eager to learn how these three fit in.

“First a young man with floppy hair, then the old Scot…“ Jenny recalled and Vastra finished the sentence for her:

“Now a pretty blonde.“

“Oi!“ Jenny gave her wife’s arm a slap, feeling a lot more like herself now. The after-effects from the stun blast were wearing off.

“Pretty?“ Strax interjected confused. “He looks the same as ever.“ The three women paid no heed to him.

“So when you called for her, you expected her to be a younger self?“ Yaz concluded. Time travel was confusing but she was getting the hang of it.

“Indeed.“ Vastra nodded.

“So what happened here? Who attacked you?“ Yaz pressed on. A child had been abducted so surely, time was of the essence. “And what about the baby?“ She carried on as she looked into deeply unsettled faces. “Who’s is it?“

“It’s mine.“ The Doctor’s voice made them all jump.

“Doctor, we’re so…“ Jenny attempted to get to her feet. She wanted to apologise, plead for forgiveness as they had failed her, but Vastra gently pushed her back to sit down.

“What?“ Yaz frowned, confused as she watched her friend walk into her room. She looked a lot calmer than she had when she had stormed out of the house but her was expression remained grim. Yaz noticed she was still carrying the green cloth. Judging by the way she ran her fingers along the stitching, it had to bear some meaning to her.

“That’s right, isn’t it, Madame Vastra. River entrusted our child to you.“ The Doctor concluded looking to Vastra accusingly.

“You have a child?“ Yaz was stunned. She looked around the room, into grim but knowing faces, and found that she was the odd one out.

“I didn’t know, my wife never told me.“ The Doctor answered without looking to her young friend, she kept her focus on the Silurian, excepting an explanation. Yaz was only getting more confused. This was the first time she had heard the Doctor mention a wife. She had so many question but she realised now was not the right time to ask.

“She was pregnant when she left Darillium. She couldn’t return and had to have the child by herself. Then she entrusted him to us before going to the Library.“ Vastra kept her voice calms as she explained, keeping her answer brief.

“Why would she do that?“ The Doctor snapped. Just because she had already assumed as much didn’t mean she understood it.

“She was trying to keep you safe, keep all of you safe.“ Vastra carried on. She couldn’t presume to know the Professor’s mind but she knew what she had told her and what she had read in the notes she had left behind.

“It’s not really worked out that way, has it.“ The Doctor shot back, upset.

“Strax, how about some tea?“ Jenny looked to Strax, hoping to calm the situation before it could escalate again.

“I was quite enjoying being in the line of fire once again.“ The Sontaran retorted but Jenny’s expression left no room for discussion.

The interruption as they left for the kitchen was enough to calm the Doctor for the time being. She kept her eyes on Vastra, her expression making quite clear how disappointed she was in them for having gone along with this.

“Who was it?“ The Doctor said at last. “Who took my child?“ The words echoed through the silent room, their meaning so poignant it made all their hearts ache. So soon after finding out, the Doctor had already accepted that this was her child, her family, they were talking about. And in the same sentence, she had already lost them. It was too painful to contemplate.

“I honestly don’t know.“ Vastra broke the silence at last. “It all happened very quickly. I was going to answer a knock on the door as Jenny and Strax were upstairs looking after the little one. An explosion happened and then you woke me up. I’m afraid that’s all I remember.“ She explain sorrowfully, begging forgiveness in every syllable.

“A chronon mine… that’s Time Lord technology.“ The Doctor said after briefly considering her words.

“I thought you said all the Time Lords are dead?“ Yaz asked, remembering the Doctor’s account of what happened on Gallifrey after they had left.

“They are. The Master killed them all.“ The Doctor nodded in agreement.

“Perhaps not all of them… at least that was your wife’s theory.“ Vastra said slowly and went to the bureau in the corner to retrieve the file River had left. “She left us with this, accounts of what she did since leaving Darillium.“

——

Sheffield, early 21st Century

“Feels weird, doesn’t it.“ Ryan Sinclair observed walking past by the apartment block Yaz’s family lived in. The spot where the TARDIS had been a welcome sight stood empty. The Doctor and Yaz had left a few days ago and the reality of them being out on adventure by themselves had yet to fully sink in.

“Feels right though.“ Graham O’Brien placed his hand on his grandson’s shoulder as they turned and continued down the street. They had had wonderful adventures but it was time for both of them to carry on with their lives. There were things at home that needed fixing too, not just out in the universe. The most recent misadventure with the Daleks had proven as much.

“Shall we just nip round to the Chippy for tea?“ Ryan suggest when they reached home and he pushed his bike into the garage. The time up in the mountains practicing was starting to pay off. He knew his nan would be proud of his progress and the pride he saw reflected in Graham’s eyes was confirmation of that.

“Sounds good, just let me grab some cash.“ Graham grinned unlocking the front door. “I think I have a twenty in my other jacket…“ He turned into the lounge and jumped with a very undignified yelp. A woman was sitting on his sofa and greeted him with a smile. “Ryan?!“ He called out and his grandson joined him quickly.

“What the…!“ Ryan stared at the woman in shock. She was tall, blonde and altogether far too relaxed for sitting in someone else’s lounge as they returned. “How’d you get in here?“

“Apologies for startling you, Mr. O’Brien, Mr. Sinclair… I hope you don’t mind that I let myself in.“ The woman got to her feet. A empty cup in front of her indicated that she had been waiting a while and hadn’t been shy about helping herself to refreshments.

“We do mind, actually! Who are you?“ Graham tried his best to sound authoritative. Talking a good talk was half the battle, or so they had gathered from how the Doctor approached trouble.

“Kate Lethbridge-Stewart, Chief Scientific Officer at UNIT.“ She extended her hand that neither of them took.

“UNIT?“ Ryan echoed with a frown.

“Rings a bell, doesn’t it.“ Graham sensed that they were both thinking the same thing.

“The Doctor might have mentioned us.“ Kate smiled and sat back down, gesturing for them to do the same. Graham and Ryan exchanged confused looks, not used to being told what to do in their own home. They were, however, relieved that the stranger didn’t seem to be here to kill them.

“You know the Doctor then?“ Graham’s relaxed a little as he sat in an armchair across from her.

“Yes that’s right, didn’t the Doctor try and contact you when we found that Dalek the first time round and you didn’t exist anymore, or something?“ The penny dropped for Ryan as well as he perched on the end of the sofa. He couldn’t quite keep the accusatory undertones out of his voice that he felt were justified. Only the UK would dismantle a useful agency in order to cut public spending. If the Kasavan hadn’t taught them a lesson, surely the Daleks would have now.

“Yes. I’m afraid at the time, UNIT was not operational…“ Kate retorted pressing her lips to a thin line. Clearly the budget cuts were a sore subject for her as well.

“And where were you this time around, eh? Daleks all over the place, straight from the government, all them politicians involved in it, surely that’s the sort of thing you should have intervened in.“ Graham crossed his arms in front of his chest. They had done their very best researching the Daleks in the Doctor’s absence. If UNIT had been about, things surely would never have gotten as far as they did.

“I’m afraid we have had greater concerns to deal with.“ Kate revealed sounding regretful, yet matter-of-factly.

“Greater than an army of Daleks trying to conquer Earth?“ Ryan retorted with a huff and a laugh. He found that very hard to believe.

“With UNIT officially ceasing to exist, it has given us the opportunity to retreat into the shadows and work undetected. We couldn't risk revealing ourselves.“ She gave an apologetic smile. “You might not be aware of it yet but there are far greater forces at work on Earth right now than a rouge strain of Daleks.“

“Don’t like the sound of that…“ Ryan mumbled and Graham leaned forward in his chair:

“Have you spoken to the Doctor about this?“

“Not yet.“ Kate admitted. “Not until we know more. We can’t always rely on the Doctor, they have other things to concern themselves with. Rest assured we will reach out when the time is right. Until then… we are recruiting and Captain Harkness was kind enough to provide your address. Hence the house call.“

“Of course he did…“ Graham shook his head to himself at the mention of Jack Harkness.

“Recruiting for what?“ Ryan asked.

“Humanity’s last stand, should it come to it.“

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foxpaws10 · 3 years ago

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Don’t Forget Me When I Let The Water Take Me

It was the red hair which had done him in. His eye had latched on and for the first time in a very long time he felt his chest lift with hope. But the man had turned, eyes deadened and brown, not blue, and hope had been squashed under disappointment.

He should know by now that he wouldn’t ever see him again. Kept pushing it down down down. There were more important things to focus on than the ghost of a boy.

But as Andrew sat in the trenches, clothes soaked with mud, rain and the blood of his men, his mind conjured up old memories. Perhaps the memories were the only thing keeping him sane. Giving him a reprieve from the constant onslaught of bombs and gunfire, of men screaming and crying, of rats and lice and flies.

He held tightly to the image of the boy - because that’s what they had been, boys - and he closed his eyes against the fireworks of shrapnel in the otherwise dark sky.

He thought of nights spent on rooftops, smoking stolen cigarettes and making up stories about the bright stars above.

He thought of Nathaniel, and Nate, and Abram and Junior - of Neil.

Neil, always Neil to Andrew.

How his mother cursed them and threatened them and warned them. That boy was the son of the devil, the women of the village swore. They weren’t wrong. Neils father was the devil, with his burning temper and iron fists raining blows down on his son, painting him crimson and lilac.

But Neil, he was mischief. He wasn’t the fire and brimstone his parents raised him to be. He was sneaky and sly and a liar right down to his toes. He was a thief and he burned, oh how he burned, but it was life which coursed through him. Life which lit him up brighter than any star in the sky and drew Andrew into orbit.

He remembered the first time he saw him; galloping a chestnut mare across the fields which separated Andrew’s house from the Laird’s. They were both shiny as copper, Neils hair a fiery crown of curls, the horse dipped in blood - all but her muzzle which was a bright white.

Devils son? Well he looked the part. He took joy in the twin curls which curved like horns by his temples when his hair was wet; a consequence of either being caught in a downpour or Andrew dunking him in the river.

The river. They spent most of their days by it. Stealing the Laird Hingston’s fish, swimming in the clear depths, skimming rocks across the surface of the smoother, deeper pools.

The first time they swam, Neil had stripped naked as the day he was born. No shame in his nudity, though cautious about the scars and bruises littering his freckled skin. By the second week, Andrew was down to his underwear and then nothing at all.

They spent hours floating down the flow. Settling in shallow areas where the riverbed pushed up to the surface, keeping them locked in place despite the rushing water. Jumping off the high banks into pools, or swinging off overhanging tree branches.

They’d begun to ride Fox, Neils glorious chestnut mare, down to the river together. She would graze the lush grass along the banks, and Andrew swore she flicked them dissapointed looks every now and again when they were being particularly rowdy. Occasionally she would travel into the water with them, cooling down in the shimmering summer sun. Once, Neil had backflipped off her rear end and nearly had his skull caved in by her hoof.

She was a birthday present from Neils uncle, a Londoner by the name of Stuart Hartford. A strong Irish breed, she was to be used for hunting; covering vast stretches of land and jumping wooden gates and stone walls and deep gulleys. She had a temper worse than Neils some days; her ears would lie flat back against her skull, her nostrils would flare and she’d bare her teeth like a savage while stomping her hooves. Neil had worked through the anger with patience and persistence, and Andrew with a pocket full of sugar cubes.

Despite her bloodline boasting impressive abilities, she was just as happy pottering down country lanes and cobbled streets, loose and relaxed with the two boys riding atop her bareback.

Neil had taught Andrew how to trot, canter and pop a small jump on her. Just in case, he’d said, with a shifty look in his eye.

Andrew liked the speed of her, feeling the unbridled power in her muscles as he pushed her on until her strides swallowed the ground beneath them. Some days it felt like flying, most days it felt like freedom.

Andrew had been tucked into the corner of her stall late one evening, sharing an apple with both Fox and Neil, when he met Stuart Hatford. A man of high class and strange fashion, he was abrupt and rude but entirely harmless. Harmless to the two boys, that is.

Andrew grew to like him, enjoyed listening to him tear apart Nathan Wesninski with whip quick words. Enjoyed even better the day he’d threatened Nathan with his cane, a deadly look in his eye that Andrew had caught Neil mimicking once before.

After that incident they hadn’t seen much of Hatford, but when they did, he was sure to sneak money into pockets and biting remarks into ears.

The last time Andrew had seen Stuart, he’d been sat upon an impressive dark horse. A coat like midnight, shining like stars under a low autumn sun. He had passed Andrew, taking a shortcut through the fields, on the way to peruse the sweets of the bakery. Pulling up beside him, Stuart had made Andrew promise that he would take care of Neil, keep him out of trouble. And had warned that they needed to leave, the sooner the better.

If Andrew knew then what he did now, he would have left that very same day. But he had a brother to look after, one who confessed not long after that he’d knocked up the baker's daughter.

Their mother had been livid, and Andrew had taken the abuse in place for his brother. God only knew what the woman would have done had she found out about Andrew’s own inclinations.

He’d never understood the fascination with girls. Their curves and their high pitched giggles, their swishy skirts and small frames and sweet perfumes. He’d always been drawn to men, their deep voices and strong hands, the lingering musk of sweat and what lay between their legs.

He’d seen two men kiss behind the pub one late evening, when it was safer out in the cold night than their house. Had been fascinated with the hard press of lips and teeth and tongue, how their hands had gripped and tugged and pulled. It was a memory that wreaked havoc in his sleep, leaving him with damp undergarments in the morning and which haunted him on the days he did slide his hand between his legs.

Neil was the first male he ever kissed. Sitting in the corner of Fox’s stall, a puddle of kittens between them. Neils father had ordered him to drown them, but Neil had stowed them away in one of the outbuildings instead. They mewled and tottered between them on stumpy legs, claws digging through their trousers as they climbed into their laps.

Andrew had been sat on his window ledge smoking and watching the last dim light of the sun dipping below the horizon when Neil had stopped below him, wheels of his bike skidding in the loose gravel and dirt. His eyes had been alight with defiance and mischief as he coaxed Andrew to join him. Andrew had learnt early on he wasn’t capable of saying no to that look. It promised mischief and adventure and danger.

Andrew had mounted the bike with Neil balanced on the handlebars, telling him all about his precious find. One of his mothers exotic felines had been caught by a barn cat and given birth to five small kittens. She had hidden them away in a closet to protect them from Nathan and his hounds, but they soon found their voices and she’d been exposed.

They were a grey-blue colour with dark stripes and squashed faces. Andrew marvelled at how small they were, so soft and warm in his hands, with needle sharp claws and teeth. Despite only being a few weeks old they were strong and bold.

He dared a glance at Neil and felt his chest tighten. A bruise was splattered across his jaw, and a half circle of black skin hugged his left eye, but neither could take away from the soft smile curving his lips.

In the flickering lamp light, with the soothing sound of Fox’s heavy breathing and the grinding of her teeth as she grazed from her hay, he looked soft and melting like butter. Andrew wanted to dip his hands into him, to sip from his mouth and feel the steady pulse of his heart.

Neil came from old money produced through blood. He was the heir to the Wesninski estate, but also the Hatford’s. He had wardrobes packed with silks and chiffon, fancy coats and stiff trousers and hard boots. He had a mansion hung with exquisite portraits and oil paintings, curtains which cost more than Andrew’s house, furniture which dated back centuries yet was polished so bright it could have been made yesterday. He had a bed larger than Andrew’s and Aaron’s shared room. He had prospects and future betrothals and a list of universities just waiting to snap him up.

Yet he sat in the dirt of a horse stall, with mud splattered overalls coated in horse hair, a shirt which once might have been white but was perpetually stained yellow from hard work and sweat, boots gone soft and falling apart at the seams. His hair was an unruly uncombed mess atop his head, bright like the sunrise, and his eyes were blue as a summer sky. He smelt like sweat and horse and the Earth. His fingernails were perpetually dirty, no matter what time of day it was. He spent nights walking dark streets or sitting atop rooftops with Andrew, a bastard boy coated in poverty.

Their lives were miles apart, and yet they fit together perfectly. They had the same blase attitude about most of life, a dark humour others shyed away from, and a belief that there had always been something… missing. They had dark days and sharp days and quiet days. But together, they were learning ways to chase away the dark clouds and foreboding shadows.

Neil had been the one bright spark lighting up Andrew’s life from the first day. Everything was on fire, every atom of his being burned and yearned to be swallowed within Neils own blaze.

Andrew could remember, as clear as if it were yesterday, how his stomach had tied itself in knots. How his palms had dampened with sweat, catching the fine hairs of the soft kittens. How dry his mouth had gotten, all the moisture whisked away by nerves.

He could remember the wrinkle of Neils brow as he glanced at him, concern tightening his eyes as he realised something was wrong. The soft murmur of his name, slipping between smooth lips.

Andrew had asked, because he couldn’t bare to be pushed away once he leant in. He didn’t know what he would do if he lost Neil, if Neil looked at him with disgust and swore to never see him again.

But Neil had merely smiled, eyes gone soft and dewy as he set aside a kitten and leant in. His lips were even softer than Andrew had imagined. They were both inexperienced, and yet somehow it was perfect. The fumbling movement of their mouths as they tried to slit together in an even rhythm; the heavy gusts of breath as they tried to breathe and then forgot how to and almost choked on lack of oxygen; the first quick swipe of tongue to dampen the dry stickiness which suddenly turned the quiet kisses loud and sucking; the gut tightening sound Neil made when Andrew lifted a hand to his jaw, careful of the bruising, and tilted him down into the kiss; how they kept trying to get closer, ignoring the mewling and sharp claws of the kittens between them; Fox’s snort as hay dust swirled in her nostrils and she splattered them with wet droplets; how Andrew opened his mouth to breathe and suddenly Neils tongue was on his and it was like the beginning of a universe.

He could remember it all like it was yesterday. As another whizz-bang exploded overhead, he struggled to decide if it was a blessing or a curse. The memories were a warm blanket, a honey soaked film trying to cover the worst memories he’d occurred over the last few years. Where once everything had been bright and golden and beautiful, everything was dark and cold and horrid, leaking blood and guts everywhere. He could slip away for a second, a minute, an hour, and remember the boy he had cherished above all else. But it never lasted.

He didn’t know what happened to Neil. One day he was there, the next he was gone. Slipped out from under his fingertips, stolen on the wind as more bad news about the war blew in.

Andrew had tried to write to him once, but he’d never gotten a reply. He’d tried to find him, but so far there had been no news of a Wesninski or a Hatford in their ranks. Every glance of red hair was a beacon of hope, yet they left nothing but dark disappointment behind.

When the horses passed them, mud splattered and skeletal, he looked for red with a white muzzle. He dreaded the day he’d find it, abandoned on no-mans-land.

A whistle blew further down the line and he heaved a heavy breath before standing, so used to the feel of his clothes stiff and ridged and mud soaked he knew it shouldn’t bother him anymore, yet somehow it still did. He had a team of men to lead, he couldn’t dwell on the past. His brother, a medic now, among them.

Perhaps one day, the war would be over. Today wasn’t yet that day.

They had an advancement planned, a move to gain back what had been taken. A move closer to the enemy. It would be another week before he heard more than whispers travelling down the lines. They had a new battalion joining them in the meantime, due some time tomorrow evening.

Among them, a new translator. Andrew hoped Private Josten would be more help than their last one had been.

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#my fic #give me validation #aftg #all for the game #tfc #the foxhole court #war au #neil josten #andrew minyard #andreil #mine #foxpaws10

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