#Tomales Point

[theyetch]

IMPORTANT ALERT: LOOK AT THIS LITTLE DINGUS

[makingcontact]

The Coast Miwok Peoples, Colonization, and the Preservation of Indigenous History (Encore)

Caption: A tule elk in Point Reyes in 2015. Credit: Austlee via Wikimedia Commons, under a CC BY-SA 4.0 Deed license. Image is unaltered. Dive into the history of Point Reyes National Seashore, one of the most iconic national parks in northern California, with us. Known for rugged sweeping beaches and the famous tule elk, we’ll recount the waves of colonization that violently upended the lives of…

[petegans]

Tomales Bay, California - October 2024

[fartdust]

What a perfect winter day

[thekeeperof-thefandoms]

I asked a few of my favorite hazbin writers this and only one answered and it was ok but I felt like it could have been expanded on so here's my take

Vox, Val, Alastor, and Lucifer react to your love language being baking/cooking

Vox

(Starting with him because he's the one thaf inspired this).

Vox came from the 50s and even though I firmly believe he is past all the ingrained gender roles and homophobia I think he still has some internalized misogyny. He wants to be viewed as the man in the relationship, the breadwinner, the provider. He can cook for himself but it's pretty basic food (except steak. Like every other man since the invention of the grill how to bbq has been hardwired into his brain. If his partner also grills ya'll fight over whose turn to cook out it is)

(Unrelated but as a lesbian who loves to grill, and is the designated grill bro, butch lesbians or cookout lesbians are some of Vox's favorite type of gays to chill with)

I firmly believe that's why even though he's a sub, it's so hard and would take time and trust to get him to let you top and enjoy it. He's so worried people will find out and judge him, that you'll judge him. His ego can be very fragile.

Especially if we go with the Vox used to be a cult leader theory. His power, image, and success are linked to his ability to appear in control. To appear to have all the answers and take responsibility. It's going to take a lot of time and patience to unravel all that and help him seperate his personal and professional image.

That being said, a partner who uses acts of service as a love language is perfect for him. He's a busy man, so he tends to be a gift giver type. The gifts are always well thought out and expensive. He wants it to be something you need, want, can get a lot of enjoyment from, and be worth the money spent, so he puts time and effort into them. Unless he's just showing off by giving you his card and telling you to go nuts.

So you taking time to make his coffee for him the way he likes, ordering lunch from his favorite places and having it sent to his office so he remembers to eat, or just texting him reminders to drink water or eat/take breaks throughout the day makes him giddy.

If you're his assistant or something, (and I believe Vox absolutely would have his partner working for him/with him), then it's even better when you take on extra work to try and help him. Organizing his schedule, sorting emails/mail, and proofreading things. Any small act you do for him, because you want to and care about him, makes his heart rate pick up.

It'll really make him overheat, glitching slightly, literal heart eyes, if he comes home after a shitty day and you're cooking for him.

His internal monologue is absolutely raving about what a good housewife you are for him, a hard working husband.

Bonus points if you cleaned too! Either way, he adores you even more now, letting you fret and coo at him, removing his jacket and tie, pouring him a drink and telling him dinner will be ready soon and you made his favorite. He's so tempted to bend you over the counter right now, but that would ruin dinner. After you guys eat though, he's having you for dessert. Man's gonna make sure you know how much he appreciates this by turning your knees to jello, good luck walking tomorrow, doll.

If you bake treats and bring them to VoxTek he's gonna brag so much. Literally the embodiment of John Mulaney's, "That's my wife!" If you bring them just for him, he's defending his treats like they're the last ones in Hell. He has literally hit Val with a fly swatter for even asking if he could have one.

(Unrelated but like, chubby vox maybe? You're cooking is too good)

Valentino

Val wishes he could cook better. He's some kind of latino, so I feel like the fact he can't cook very well is a sore spot culturally. He can make the salsa and chips and like, help with stuff, he knows how to wrap tortillas and tomales (I picture him as like Mexican or Puerto Rican but that's just cuz the town I grew up had a large Puerto Rican group).

It doesn't help that his eyesight is even more shit in Hell. He can't see what he's doing hald the time. It ruins his art hobby too. He's overall just more easily frustrated with his bad eyesight.

I don't imagine you guys dating per se. Maybe you're his sugar baby, maybe you're someone he hired to help him do stuff like clean and organize and you just sorta start doing other things to help him. (Again I'm not saying it excuses jackshit, but as someone who worked with bipolar people and people with mood disorder I kinda see the fan theory in him, either way I think all the Vees could be sort of trained to be better people, but especially Val. We already saw Vox do it.)

After all, he's usually in a much better mood if you do and that means less outbursts. The first few times you cook him something he teases you about being his housewife, tries to make it sexual. It's not really something he clocks as being an act of love because I don't think you'd realize it yourself at first. I think the more you got to see him when he wasn't stressed, lashing out, being abusive, you'd start catching feelings. ("I can fix him", delulu asses)

He loves to be in the kitchen when you cook once it starts becoming a regular thing. He can't see clearly what you're doing but the way you move around the kitchen and get what you need, even if you're an ADHD mess and do steps out of order or at random, he can tell you know what you're doing. He likes to smell the food too while it's cooking.

He will ask you to try and make some spicier/more traditional foods he grew up with, but he doesn’t remember all of the ingredients, and it just gets him more frustrated he can't tell you. If you look them up and surprise him with it it'll probably be the most genuine, human response you get from him.

He's shocked, silent, standing frozen in the penthouse as familiar smells waft around him. You present him a plate nervously, practically shaking hoping it's good enough. The first bite nearly puts him in tears. No one's done anything this nice for him? Why would you? Lowkey thinks you want something from him. It's gonna make him paranoid for a while so don't expect a verbal compliment but he eats it all.

Eventually though, one day when you're in the kitchen cooking, humming softly and swaying your hips, one set of his arms will wrap around your waist, the other reaching around you help with the salsa, or wrap a tamale, and he'll prop his chin on your head and mumble out thanks. Some praise, maybe. Would definitely tell you stories about eating these foods growing up.

It's the first step towards having an actual relationship with him.

Alastor

This man almost always insists on cooking. He isn't much of a sweet tooth either. You tell him one night you want to try cooking for him. Tell him you understand it's an activity he enjoys and relaxes too, (especially if you know it's something that reminds him of his mother), but you want to do something for him and this is one way you show you care.

It's gonna remind him of his Mama so much that if you didn't know why he loved cooking so much before you do now. He compromises. You pick the meal and gather the ingredients and do most of the cooking and he helps prep and does dishes.

He playfully critiques you the entire time about adding some spice too it or a little southern flair. Just smack him with the wooden spoon, gently. It's gonna make him laugh because his Mama used to do that when he wouldn't keep out of the sweets, or tried to add stuff to her cooking.

Once you start it becomes habit to help each other in the kitchen every night, trading off who cooks and who preps and does dishes.

If you do find baked goods he likes that aren't too sweet and send them to him as snacks, especially to Overlord meetings, he's so fucking obnoxious about his sweet little doe (doesn't matter if you are one or not) and how they spoil him. Especially rubs it in Vox's face (not him whining to his partner so they send him with treats too so he can also brag).

Only shares with Charlie, Rosie, Niffty, and sometimes Zestiel. If he's feeling generous, Husk can have a bite.

Low-key also has a thing for his partner behaving domestically even if he isn't exactly invested in traditional marriage.

Favorite activity though is dancing with you in the kitchen to jazz while dinner cooks, holding you close, in his room usually, so he can hear the sounds of the bayou. If he closes his eyes he can pretend this is how his life went and that his Mama is in the corner or sitting in her chair, watching him, happy to see him find someone.

He will literally kiss Vox willingly before admitting that last part though.

Lucifer

It's not that he can't cook, it's just....it's easier to just snap his fingers and make food appear. He's been in a depressed slump for decades man, he's lived off of the 'want food, no cook, only eat' mindset.

When you come into his life it's a complete overhaul. Despite what issues you have yourself you can recognize someone in worse state than you and immediately categorize and prioritize. First thing first, get this man's duck collection/obsession organized, thinned out, and under control.

Second, help him work through his issues with Lillith and Charlie. Encourage therapy, be a mediator between him and Charlie (and trust me she appreciates it. She knows her dad struggles, didn't know how bad, and still feels awkward). Help him socialize more, rebuild his connection with the other sins.

Get this man a work schedule!

Then it's on to personal habits. You help him get out of bed, you're both probably a little helpless in the sleeping on time category though. Help him get a routine again to keep out of his funk. Then you start cooking for him. It just happens naturally. You enjoy cooking, you enjoy showing people you love how much you care by providing good meals.

At first he's gonna resist and tell you he can handle that, you already do so much for him. He can cook or better yet he can just make it appear and you laugh and tell him it tastes better when it's made with love. He brushes it off as a joke too, you're both just being silly and obviously you said that to get him to quit fussing. Except, unholy hell does it actually taste so much better.

Lucifer hadn’t realized how bland and unsatisfying just materializing the food was. Maybe that's because he was so depressed and uninterested in what he ate, maybe not. Either way, your cooking is so much fucking better. He actually looks forward to eating now. If he gets caught up in work or has a bad day, you make sure to always bring him something, leaving it as an offering of sorts. It almost always works and entices him to eat at least once.

You cook, he does dishes, and he will not budge on that rule. He wants to be a fair man. He occasionally boots you out to do dessert, though. Apple pie is his bitch and you've never tasted one as good as his. He also makes good pancakes and some absolutely orgasmic angel's food cake.

Ironicall, devil's food cake is one of your go to recipes. Sometimes you both make a cake and take it to events just to watch people get confused as fuck when it's revealed the literal Devil did not make the devil's food cake.

Everyime you're in the kitchen together it's a disaster, you're both to silly and chaotic. You were making noodles one time and he threw flour at you so you smacked him with the noodle you were holding, leaving a line of flour and a speck of dough against his cheek. From there it escalates. It happens every time. Making cakes together, you're smashing frosting on each other. Making cookies, you're fighting each other to stop eating cookie dough.

Once, after you get fed up with him stealing her spatula to lick the chocolate off of, hovering above you with his wings, you pout and bat your eyes, asking him sweetly to please give it back. He swoops down in front of you, booping your nose to smear chocolate on it and leaning in to kiss you, letting you have a taste of the chocolate batter you were mixing for brownies. While his tongue is in your mouth, drunk off the taste of you and chocolate you smash an egg over his head and let out a triumphant cheer, snatching back your spatula.

He's so stunned his wings disappear and he drops the last few inches to the ground while you cackle. His heart is pounding, his ears are ringing, and his chest feels like it's gonna explode. His eyes are literal sparkles. He hasn't felt this much joy, wonder, and love since Charlie was born. It feels like witnessing creation all over again, of the breathlessness he felt when he first saw Lillith.

You're laughter stops when you realize he's just staring at you awestruck and you smile, asking if he's ok.

"For once...yeah..Yes. I'm ok." He responds, genuinely. You kiss his cheek and resume baking. He watches you from the counter now, dreamily, thinking about how he's gonna marry you someday.

[skyloftian-nutcase]

I kinda like your chronicles of the domain story thing if you wanna do something with that for the prompt event. thx!

(@silvrash-797 this one’s for you ❤️)

Link was sick.

It wasn't anything too alarming, Abel told himself repeatedly. The chidl had a stuffed nose, a bit of a fever, and a wretched cough. Captain Tomall had assigned Abel to guard the Hylian quarters to help him care for his boy, which the young knight greatly appreciated. He spent the morning with Link in his arms, comforting the poor child, who was quite miserable with his situation. Abel's touch wasn't as gentle as Tilieth's, but his soft words of encouragement and love seemed to help either way.

He pointedly ignored the fear in his heart, like a tiny needle trying to undo him. He pointedly didn't think about how Tilieth had been sick before their departure, how Link maybe somehow had it now. But that couldn't be the case - it had been two weeks since they'd left Hateno, after all.

Still, Link coughed and moaned, and Abel worried.

Ekan, Abel's teammate in guard duty today, offered to take care of everything so Abel could just rest with his son. Abel was somewhat annoyed with the offer - Ekan was by far the weakest fighter in the group, and he did not take his duty as seriously, so leaving him in charge would be a disaster. Although the man had a good heart, Abel didn't trust the Zora enough to leave protecting Hylians up to Ekan alone.

It was strange, though. Having spent roughly a week here now, Abel was... not entirely sure what to make of the Zora. He'd heard of them, of course - a mysterious and elegant race of water loving people, with strange appearances, beautiful aesthetic, and strong magic.

When they'd been briefed for this mission, they had all been told briefly of the political landscape, at least enough for them to grasp the importance of protecting their ambassador, Cilda. The Domain and Hyrule had clashed in the past, though not too recently. Nevertheless, tensions remained high, and trust low. The late Zora Queen had not liked Hyrule much, but with her death the Queen of Hyrule saw a new opportunity to establish good relations with the heir apparent, Dorephan.

Dorephan. The man had been kind enough when Abel had met him. But he could also very clearly see distrust and disdain in the upcoming king's advisors, and it made him wary.

He hoped everything would go well, though. If nothing else, for Link's sake. The boy had really started taking a liking to some Zora children, and had even interacted with the little princess, Mipha. Abel wasn't entirely sure how appropriate that was, and tried to keep it to a minimum, but he couldn't control his son while he was on duty, much as he tried.

None of that really mattered now, though. Not with Link being sick.

Speaking of the Zora, however, one of the little Zora children did stop by to ask if Link could play. Rivan, if Abel recalled correctly. The little boy was greatly disappointed when he heard Link was ill, and he asked that Abel pass along message to get better soon because we were gonna go see Ploymous Mountain (to which Abel pointed out that children should not be wandering to random mountains by themselves since he hardly knew the terrain or how dangerous this area was).

As Abel checked on his little boy in the afternoon, having left him in bed to rest, he found the child clutching his cow plushie and sniffling. The knight's heart twisted a little at the sight of it, and he knelt down to be at eye level with the child.

"Feeling any better?" he asked quietly, gently brushing hair away from the boy's face.

"My head hurts," Link whined, voice breaking halfway through the sentence.

Sympathy tugged at the man's heart, and he leaned in to kiss the child before saying, "It'll get better, son. Drink some water and rest, okay? I'll be back with dinner."

He felt a little bad for leaving the child, but to be fair, he'd carried him around with him most of the morning. As much as he loved Link, he didn't need to coddle him too much. The boy would have to learn to become more independent someday. Abel found himself constantly debating how to go about doing that - Tilieth would treat him like a baby all the way up to his adolescence if she could, but Abel didn't agree with that. But he also didn't think it was fair to just throw the boy into the world as he himself had been, forced to parent his little sister, forced to run the house when their mother deteriorated and passed away.

He'd comforted Link plenty today, right? And he would tell him a bedtime story with dinner. He couldn't be with the boy all day. He hadn't been their entire stay here.

But Link was sick. And Abel was worried.

He sighed heavily, returning to his post, ignoring Ekan's gaze. When his teammate tried to start conversation, hand restlessly running over his dark cornrows on his head, Abel tried not to be too snippy in response. There was nothing wrong with Ekan trying to be friendly; Abel simply was too stressed to play along.

The next day, Link's fever finally seemed to break, giving Abel immense relief. Captain Tommell mentioned that there would be some sort of serious meeting between the heir apparent and their diplomat, Cilda, and many Zora officials would be there, meriting tighter security. Abel hadn't really seen the soon-to-be-king since his initial meeting with him - most of Cilda's interactions were with Zora officials beneath him, after all. This was important.

Which meant he would be assigned to guard her. And Link would be alone, sick.

Abel swallowed his remorse on the matter. Duty was duty. He spent breakfast in his room with Link.

"I'm going to be guarding the diplomats today, son," he explained gently. "I asked Sir Ekan to make sure you're okay."

"Braids soldier?"

Abel's mouth twisted a little in amusement. "You have to learn their names, Link. They're our... our friends here."

"But I don't want Braids Soldier," Link whined. "I want you, Papa."

Abel sighed. "Sometimes we can't get what we want, Link. Our duty always has to come first, remember? Others are relying on me, too. You're safe here. Our ambassador is not."

Link hugged Mrs. Moo more tightly, lip wobbling, but he nodded. Abel smiled proudly at it. His little boy would be a good soldier someday, and he told him as much before kissing his forehead and steeling himself for a long day. Link was on the mend, though, so no matter what, it would be fine.

And it was fine. Until the next day, when Abel woke up with a runny nose and a headache.

He groaned. Of course I got it too.

Whatever this obnoxious feverish nightmare was, it was clearly contagious. He prayed it didn't spread to the other soldiers. Goddess, what if he passed it on to the captain, or the ambassador?

Link wiggled in the bed a little, clearly far more energized, jumping up and down in excitement. "Papa! Papa I'm feeling better! Papa, look!"

Abel swallowed, feeling his throat scrape against itself, raw and swollen. He mustered a smile, nodding. "That's good, son. Maybe you can go play with your friends today?"

Link nodded eagerly.

The little one's smile fell, however, when Abel started coughing harshly as he stood.

"Papa?" he asked, beady eyes wide with worry.

"I'm okay," Abel assured him, pointedly ignoring the look from their roommate, Norri.

When he coughed again, though, world spinning slightly as his head pounded, Link immediately shifted uncomfortably. "Papa, you're not okay."

"Link--"

"Papa, you're sick!"

"It's okay, son."

Link's eyes were filled with tears, and Abel was almost baffled at the reaction. Surely he couldn't look that ill, right?

"I made you sick," Link whimpered.

Oh.

"No," Abel hastily tried to appease him. "No, sweet child. It--I got this from--from Norri."

His roommate's expression grew affronted, and the younger knight huffed, freshening up and stepping out of the room.

Link seemed a little less horrified, but no less worried.

"Son," Abel said gently, picking him up and kissing him. "I'm a grown up. When we get sick we're okay. We don't really get all that sick. My body's bigger and stronger, so I can handle it, okay? I'll be fine."

Settling him on the ground, he nudged him along. "Go eat some breakfast. I'll be out shortly."

When he stepped out into the hall, he nearly jumped to the ceiling when Norri materialized beside him, saying, "I am not pretending to be sick just to assuage your child's worries. Unlike you, I am dedicating all my energy into doing my duty."

Abel's patience wasn't what it should have been. Not with as ill as he was feeling. Instead of taking the words with a neutral expression, he snapped, "Don't take my care for my child as shirking my duty. You know nothing of responsibility until you have someone in your care. Some of us aren't self centered brats who wish to climb the ranks."

He really should have held his tongue. Especially since Norri had occasionally tried to look out for him. The man wasn't a bad person, just... immature. He had his opinions about Link's presence, and Abel bristled at it. It wasn't as if he himself weren't aware of the inconvenience having a four-year-old caused; he didn't need it rubbed in.

Before Abel could retract his words, their superior arrived to corral them into the den and hand out their assignments. Abel would be with the ambassador alongside the captain and, of course, Norri.

Great. This was going to be a great day. Abel held back another coughing fit as he said his goodbye to Link and told him they would spar in the evening. Ekan, kindhearted as he was, promised he would keep an eye on Link and told Abel to take care of himself.

Goddess, how obvious was this illness? Abel felt miserable but he thought he was hiding it fairly well.

Well. Until he wasn't.

It wasn't entirely his fault. But he supposed that didn't matter. Lack of food and water mixed with whatever was tearing his body apart, and it turned into the perfect storm.

At least Abel managed to excuse himself from the meeting hall and made it into some innocuous corner before the dark edges of his vision caught up to the rest of him.

He wasn't entirely sure how long he'd passed out, but the sunlight didn't seem to have moved too much when he awoke. His shoulder ached--he must have hit it when he fell--but thankfully his helmet protected his head from any major impact. Now he just needed to find some water and get back to his post.

Shakily, Abel pulled himself to his feet, leaning heavily against the wall, when he realized he was being watched.

He reached for his blade automatically, feeling far too vulnerable, but a strong voice said, "Steady, Hylian. I don't mean you any harm. You're hardly a threat in your state, anyway."

Abel bristled a little at the implication of his ineptitude, but he sheathed his sword nonetheless. He didn't need to cause a diplomatic incident. The Zora in question was a sergeant, Seggin, who was known for his pride and prowess in battle. He was head of all the Zora military as well, which made this particularly unnerving.

Abel was exposing himself as a weak link in the Hylian forces, and he hated it. He wasn't entirely sure how to get himself out of this situation, so he just tried to stand tall and proud and strong, despite having just passed out.

"Hylians are so delicate, aren't they?" Seggin continued, walking towards him with his arms crossed. "Your kind live such short lives. You hardly understand anything of how the world works, and I wouldn't exactly call your people capable. How Hylia favored your race is beyond me."

Abel steeled himself for a fight, face carefully neutral so as not to be the one to start it, but more than willing to end it.

Seggin sighed before reaching for something and holding it out. "Drink. Get back what little strength your feeble Hylian body can muster. I'll not have you dying in my prince's halls and causing a problem."

As much as he wanted to punch the sergeant, Abel opted to just take the offered water flask and drink. He also promised himself to spar somewhere public when he was feeling better so as to prove this sergeant wrong.

With a nod of thanks, he made his way back to the meeting hall, ignoring Seggin's watchful eye as the sergeant also walked there. The two had a silent face off the rest of the day, sizing each other up, though Seggin hardly seemed concerned by Abel.

When the young Hylian knight returned to the barracks, he felt absolutely wretched, but he tried to put it aside as Link eagerly asked about sparring and talked about his day. Abel indulged the boy, wanting to also stretch and fight as well, and the two went at it briefly with wooden training swords. Link's prowess still surprised Abel, and honestly, with as sick as he felt, the child genuinely did almost defeat him.

Honestly, the joy of seeing his boy's abilities really did make him feel better. As he undressed from his armor, he felt his trousers get tugged and looked down to see Link holding a tray of food and what looked like five glasses of water.

"I brought dinner," he said, holding the tray up as proof.

"I... already ate," Abel replied, confused. "Remember? I had dinner with you."

"But it wasn't enough, Papa!" Link argued. "And you need water when you're sick."

Abel sighed heavily. There was little point in arguing with the child, so he nibbled on the offered food, ignoring Norri as he entered the room.

Link watched him uncertainly, holding his plushie tightly. When Abel smiled at him, he held the toy out hesitantly. "Do... do you want Mrs. Moo?"

Abel tried not to choke on his water. "W-why?"

"She helps," Link explained seriously. "When you weren't there she made me feel better because she's from you and Mama."

Abel lost his appetite in a heartbeat, guilt gnawing at his insides. He swallowed, putting the tray down on his lap. "I... sure, Link. Thank you."

Link smiled eagerly, taking the tray and putting it on the nightstand before handing Mrs. Moo to his father. Then he started fussing over Abel, insisting he tuck him in (and pat his cheeks with his grubby little hands, and goddess if it didn't take all of Abel's willpower not to laugh at the silly child). When Abel's pillow was fluffed, blanket pulled up to his chin, and Mrs. Moo secured snugly in his arms, Link was finally satisfied.

Abel smiled as his sweet boy crawled under the blankets to snuggle with him. Mrs. Moo smelled like soggy cloth and spilled food, and he noted he should probably wash the thing in the morning. His headache didn't seem to pound quite as much with some water, and the general ache that had been creeping through his body wasn't enough to keep him from trying to get comfortable.

In the end, Link's care was far more healing than anything else, and Abel felt his heart warm as he fell asleep that night.

[rjzimmerman]

Excerpt from this story from the LA Times:

After years of debate, nearly two miles of fencing that prevented Point Reyes National Seashore tule elk from accessing water and competing for food with nearby cattle will be removed, the National Park Service announced Monday.

The 8-foot-high, 2.2-mile enclosure fence, which was decried as inhumane by animal rights activists but supported by cattle ranchers, will be removed along with all temporary water systems.

“We analyzed three alternatives and incorporated feedback from over 35,000 public comment letters gathered during three comment periods,” said Anne Altman, park superintendent, in a media statement. “The benefit of removing this enclosure is to allow elk to access additional habitat, increase the species’ population resilience during drought, and promote a more natural population cycle.”

In 2021, the federal agency released a report that showed more than one third of the 445 elk fenced in at Tomales Point at the time had died the previous winter, reducing the population to 293.

Environmental and animal activists called on the Park Service to remove the fence, saying that it prevented the elk from reaching fresh water outside of the enclosure. Animal rights groups tried to bring water to the elk in 2020 but were rebuffed.

The fence was first installed in 1978 after tule elk were reintroduced to Tomales Point. The minimum population estimate for the herd is 315 elk, according to NPS’ 2024 annual count.

Their fenced-down freedom is expected to, both quickly and over time, improve the health of the herd. Significantly, it will reduce the number of elk deaths from thirst and starvation during California’s hot, dry summer and autumn seasons.

[fictiongarden]

TWENTY DAYS TO ELECTION DAY, CHOMMELL SECTOR, YEAR 48 BBY

"Oh, protestors." Tomal grabbed Sereine Lumisol's arm and pointed. "There."

"Of course, they couldn't wait til they reached the stage." She blew an irritated sigh. This tour was the longest and the toughest she'd run yet, and her candidate was in no mood for the heat and the crowds to begin with.

Now this.

Too bad he'd brought it on himself.

Several people in tattered tunics, dull against the fashionable wear usually seen in downtown Ariaru, Chommell Minor, closed their distance to incumbent Senator Erasmesheev Palpatine waving homemade signs and shouting. The candidates had emerged from the Civic Center, walking to the outdoor stage, ready for yet another of the hundreds of debates and public appearances on this six week tour, flanked by the blue-robed Republic Senate guards who accompanied Palpatine everywhere. "Mmm, I'd better get down there," Sereine said. "Stay, watch the monitors for me." Tomal Gilio had a level head even at the young age of twenty-two. She'd made him her deputy campaign manager at the start of this and hadn't regretted it for a second.

Sereine raised her hood to cover her russet hair and dashed out into the hot sun, headed for the stage. She'd hoped to stay by the monitors in their makeshift command post this afternoon, but it wasn't to be. Slipping past latecomers to the candidates' debate, she hurried down the walk as the Senate guard surrounded the protestors and pushed them to the side, out of the candidates' way.

She had more fears for Palpatine's mood than for his safety. These people didn't look scary. They would do more damage to Palpatine's demeanor than to his person.

And they were too close. Of course, her candidate had to be closest to the sidewalk. Sereine flashed her credential and slipped behind the barrier.

"Incompetent!" someone screamed.

"Murderer!"

Already the guards were moving them away, and their shouts grew muffled behind tall bodies in long robes and full helmets. The local constabulary came over to meet them and take the offenders into custody.

Palpatine looked in her direction but not at her. Before this infernal campaign, her presence in the front rows of any audience would have helped to focus him. Not so much anymore. He knows I'm here, she thought. Sheev, look at me.

Palpatine stubbornly refused to make eye contact, and for the briefest instant Sereine had had it. If he wouldn't look at her, there was no point placing herself front and center as she usually did, as a focal point for him. If he had a moment of temper and said something untoward, perhaps it was all for the best. The protestors, now meters away, were being put into patrol speeders; she couldn't do much if he wouldn't even look at her. Sereine turned and made her way back to the huddle, where five of her staffers and three of her interns crowded around the monitors, waiting for the debate to start. As she drew closer, she saw them all pull together in a knot around one screen.

A collective cry went up. "Kriff! Stars!"

Tomal's voice rang out above them. "Where's Sereine?"

Sereine broke into a run. Then she heard, "Oh, my gods! She slapped him!"

Tall Tomal was easy to spot. His dark, longish hair stood out against their cream-colored tarps. He raised a hand and spun around, spotted her, and frantically waved her over. As she drew close, he said, "They missed a protestor! She just jumped over the barricade and spat in Palpatine's face and then slapped him!" Sereine's heart dropped into her stomach, even as she realized that anything she might do would be too late. The instant he was slapped, it was all up to Palpatine. Every twitch of his reaction was already on the holocams in excruciating detail, and everyone had seen it but her.

"Is he all right?" She elbowed her staff aside, making a wind-back motion with her hand. "Roll back, roll back."

Sereine held her breath, watching someone jump the barricade like a professional hurdler. The view changed as the ever-ready holocameras adjusted to the moment. Palpatine blinked as the woman stopped within a hair's breadth of him, spat, and then slapped him hard enough to turn his head. "Ow!" said Maisine, her newest intern, at the very front. The red print of a hand showed plainly on Palpatine's face.

"She slapped him hard," Arias, one of her teahouse crew, leaned into a screen on her right.

Sereine strained forward to catch Palpatine's expression. From his demeanor this morning, she expected homicide. Instead, his face went slack as he straightened, as if the slap had knocked the breath out of him.

And then she saw the briefest, gentle lift to his wheaten brows, and his eyes lowered briefly to his shoes. Blue gloved hands reached out, yanking the protestor back out of frame; Palpatine bowed his head with the air of one justly chastised. Just before the holoangle changed again, Sereine caught the motion of his shoulders and his robe in an involuntary shudder. The expression and the bow were deliberate; the shudder was not.

Anyone who didn't know him well would assume Palpatine was frightened. Sereine knew better.

That shudder was pure rage.

But it was perfect. As she stared, she reached out to claw Tomal's arm. A little triumphant squeak escaped her throat.

Tomal whistled. "He saved that one."

"Perfect, perfect, perfect!" Sereine whispered. She gave her head an amazed shake. "He couldn't have handled that any better if I rehearsed him for a week." Arias said, "I hope he can hold it together for the next hour and a half."

Sereine laughed. "Oh, no. We just won this one, baby. Nobody's going to remember a word anyone says on that stage today. It's going to be, 'Palpatine got slapped, Palpatine got slapped, oh my stars, Palpatine got slapped!' All he has to do is show us some grace up there and our numbers go up. And I think he knows it, too. Look at him."

"The moderator's going to ask him about it." Logane, one of her permanent staff.

Sereine put her hands on as many shoulders as she could reach. "Well, let's just hope he's thinking if she does." She tapped Tomal. "I'm going back down there. He's going to look for me."

Logane said, "'I'm out there getting beaten to death, Sereine, where were you?'"

Sereine couldn't hold back a guffaw at that. Before she could compose herself, everyone recited, "Don't ever do that in front of the candidate, his family, his guards, or his staff!"

"You people have been on this campaign too long," said Sereine. "Hold it down; I'll be back."

***

Palpatine avoided Sereine's eyes the entire debate. She saw him glance directly at her once, just to see that she was there, and then he addressed the cameras and the audience and ignored her.

Not what she was used to. For the past year—no, more than that—they had eased into a comfortable working relationship that grew even more comfortable behind closed doors. Even now, her body tingled and moistened at the memory of his hands on her, his lips upon her mouth.

She had a feeling that would never happen again. The way this was going, it would probably be the last time they ever worked together. He had gotten back at her with someone else, working off steam from the difficult tour ... until Tomal cornered a holographer on the Senator's hotel corridor and took his cam off him and offered to either pay him for it or break it.

Sereine had had to show Palpatine the holos and query him whether he wanted those in the news just now or not. She said nothing about the woman. But of course he would be bound to think the entire episode was based in jealousy.

She would miss him. But, it hadn't been her with a questionable relationship with a firm known for mob ties and malfeasance, and he hadn't consulted her before making an insensitive remark about it when it hit the headlines in the middle of an earthquake in the Karlinus system.

She was struggling with all her wits to raise his poll numbers, but she hadn't felt confident revealing her entire strategy to him or anyone else. And the constant walkabouts in suffocating crowds in the heat of Chommell summers were tearing at his nerves, affecting his performance ... and destroying their relationship.

What would she be dealing with once he got down off that stage? She had tried to talk to him, she was trying to buffer him all she could from the things she knew got on top of him, but this afternoon was going to take the whole pie.

She already knew.

The moderator spared him any questions about the slapping incident, but she knew the holocams after the debate would not. She cornered him as soon as he stepped off the stage and murmured to him a few words he might say about the slap. He listened, but he looked past her, sweat beading on his forehead, heat in his cheeks. She looked down and saw his sleeve quivering. He had done a slow burn for an hour and a half up there, and he was still holding it in.

***

The candidates filed back into the Civic Center for a short moment to cool down, use the 'fresher, confer with staff. As soon as they left the building for their hotels, holocam operators jumped after Palpatine like mantises after a fly.

"Senator Palpatine! Who slapped you?"

"How are you feeling, Senator?"

"Senator Palpatine! Does this have anything to do with the mob scandal in the earthquake disaster camps?"

"Do you feel any guilt, Senator?"

Sereine walked beside him and shielded him with her arms. "The Senator's had a long afternoon. Begging your pardon, we'll answer questions about this later."

Palpatine stalked into their current hotel, disappeared into the lift, and rode up to his suite alone, flanked by the two guards who would stand sentry outside his door.

Sereine gave him a half hour as she tidied herself in her own room, then she crossed the corridor to tap on his door. Someone had to go over his schedule for tomorrow.

She both wanted and didn't want to check on him.

Inside, he growled, "Enter."

She walked inside to find him at his largest window, staring out like a caged animal. She walked over to stand beside him, and stopped for a split second on her way.

The hem of his robe trembled. She knew these afternoons were stressful for him, but this was something else again. She had tried to ask him about it before, but that hadn't gone well.

Words used to come so easily between them. Plans, goals, work, bits of political gossip. Now she had no idea what to say. She drew up beside him and placed her hands beside his on the sill.

He glanced over at her, his face flushed, his eyes unfocused. She realized his hands were trembling. She drew breath, ready to try her best. It was a hard afternoon. You did well.

He raised a hand and looked away. "Just don't. I already told you I can't explain this to you."

And then he looked at her. Desire lit in the fine eyes she loved, but she saw a hard glint in them, too. It took her a second to name the emotion.

Desperation.

She placed her hand over his.

The next instant, he'd whipped around, his hands on her elbows, his mouth angling hard to hers. She raised her head to meet a kiss that bruised her lips. His hands gripped her arms, and she knew what was coming next. He lifted her off her feet and sidestepped, slamming her backwards into the wall. Her head bumped; she didn't see stars, but it hurt. He was rougher than usual tonight.

Next he would almost tear her clothes away and pin her to the wall with his hands and his mouth. And she would reach hungrily for his belt, running her hands lower to savor the firmness she loved.

Her heart leaped with joy and desire. She had thought this was over. If he needed to bruise her a bit to slay whatever dragon had possession of him, then he could. Whatever drove him now, she would ride it with him until it left him in peace. He gasped and kissed her, and she released his belt and worked on his robe. She had trouble with it; her hands shook now, also.

He shouldered out of his robe and she began on his shirt buttons, running her hands over his hot, damp skin. Palpatine tore at her work robe, and the clasp flew off and hit the opposite wall with a crack. Sereine left the robe in a puddle behind her and stepped forward to help him with her dress.

In moments they stood naked, pressed against the wall. He strained toward her in a proud arc, and she took him in her hands, relishing the size and smoothness and the firm feel of him, the moisture at his tip. He gasped when she touched him. He drew her closer, pivoted, and pushed her to his bed.

Since their first night, his lovemaking had been almost utterly silent. Sereine could never stop herself from moaning and crying out, but Palpatine never made any sound other than breath. For months, she had vowed to get some sound out of him when they had sex. She itched to see him overcome, such that he couldn't help but grunt and groan with the pleasure.

This afternoon, soft moans vibrated under her mouth, and when he entered her he cried out, one sharp note. He drove himself into her as if sex with her was like needing to kill someone. She held him and rode it with him, lost in the feel of him, pushing her farther and farther until she fastened her teeth onto his shoulder and let out a strangled scream.

He slowed and stopped, breathing in hard sighs, and she felt his pleasure dripping out of her. This was her favorite part, when they got wetter and wetter ... She waited to see what he would do.

He covered her mouth in long, hard kisses, and he never fell soft. He shifted inside her, and she moved with him, enjoying every move and every gasp and moan he made. She loved that her body made him feel so good, loved to watch him watch her, craved to know that she satisfied him. Her own body pulsed with pleasure, even though she'd already peaked once. He began again, easier this time, and she groaned with the feel of him in her and reached to cup him in her hand.

***

A third time, even more gentle, and he finally relaxed. She gloried in the sensation of him softening inside her, stroking his sweat-dampened back in long strokes.

She'd had a lover in her teens who once took her three times without stopping, but someone Palpatine's age? Remarkable. Of course, this wasn't a nightly event, but when they hadn't seen each other for a while, more often than not, she had learned, she needed to prepare for a long night. That had been enough to convince her that, other than this tense campaign, he probably saw no one but her.

This man captivated her, and he always made her feel so good. She'd tried to tell him before, but words weren't adequate. She held him to her and wrapped her legs over his as best she could, thankful, grateful that it wasn't the last time after all.

It might be possible to live without this, but she didn't want to. Her body and spirit prayed that he didn't, either.

[plethoraworldatlas]

Tule elk are majestic, highly social animals native to California — and once hunted to the brink of extinction. Now Point Reyes National Seashore is the only national park where they live. But instead of letting them move naturally, the National Park Service has maintained a fence that artificially confines a herd to Tomales Point at the park’s northern end, causing large elk die-offs during drought.  

Finally, thanks to public outrage and a flood of comments from Center for Biological Diversity supporters, the Park Service is proposing to tear down this lethal fence, letting elk roam freely in the park once again.  

The agency is also proposing collaboration with the Federated Indians of Graton Rancheria in a new management plan for Tomales Point — a welcome embrace of Tribal historical and ecological knowledge. It will enhance habitat for tule elk and endangered butterflies, better control invasive plants, and protect both natural and cultural resources. 

Tell the Park Service you support a free-roaming elk herd and collaborative management plan.   

We’re providing sample comments below, but please submit a message in your own words through the National Park Service website.

[charlesbeckart]

Charles Beck - Looking Toward Tomales Point

I painted this a few years ago in 1993. Well, I guess that's more than a few years but my sense of time has gotten more compressed as I age and memories of past cliff/ocean hikes make it seem like only yesterday when I walked through Point Reyes park to Tomales Point and looked at Bodega Head in the distance. If Point Reyes and Bodega Head have memory of the geologic sort, perhaps they recall their long travels from the south eons ago before they became the beautiful headlands they now are.

[stumbleimg]

Tomales Point, CA [4032x3024][OC]

[news1latest]

Point Reyes National Seashore: Discover California's Coastal Paradise

Point Reyes National Seashore, located just an hour north of San Francisco, is a breathtaking coastal retreat offering a unique blend of natural beauty, diverse wildlife, and rich history. This protected area spans over 71,000 acres, with dramatic cliffs, secluded beaches, rolling hills, and lush forests that make it a must-visit destination for anyone exploring California.

A Haven for Wildlife

Point Reyes is a biodiversity hotspot, home to over 1,500 species of plants and animals. Visitors can spot gray whales migrating along the coast, elephant seals basking on the beaches, and Tule elk roaming the grasslands. Birdwatchers will also be delighted by the abundance of bird species, including peregrine falcons, snowy plovers, and northern spotted owls.

Stunning Coastal Landscapes

The seashore’s dramatic landscapes are among its most striking features. From the towering cliffs at Chimney Rock to the expansive sandy beaches at Drakes Beach, Point Reyes offers some of the most picturesque coastal views in California. The rugged beauty of the coastline is enhanced by the often foggy and windswept conditions, creating an atmospheric experience for visitors.

Historic Lighthouses and Maritime Heritage

The Point Reyes Lighthouse, perched on a cliff overlooking the Pacific Ocean, is a testament to the region's rich maritime history. Built in 1870, this historic lighthouse guided ships safely along the treacherous coastline for over a century. Today, visitors can tour the lighthouse and learn about its history, as well as enjoy panoramic views of the ocean and the chance to spot whales from the observation deck.

Miles of Scenic Trails

Hiking enthusiasts will find no shortage of trails at Point Reyes, with over 150 miles of trails winding through diverse ecosystems. Popular routes include the Bear Valley Trail, which leads to the scenic Arch Rock, and the Tomales Point Trail, offering stunning views of the Pacific Ocean and the opportunity to see Tule elk. Each trail provides a different perspective on the seashore's varied landscapes, from coastal cliffs to dense forests.

Pristine Beaches

Point Reyes boasts some of the most beautiful and unspoiled beaches in California. Limantour Beach, with its wide sandy shore and calm waters, is perfect for sunbathing, picnicking, and birdwatching. Drakes Beach, known for its striking white cliffs, is a great spot for exploring tide pools and enjoying the coastal scenery. Whether you're looking to relax by the water or take a scenic walk along the shore, Point Reyes’ beaches offer something for everyone.

Camping Under the Stars

For those seeking an immersive experience in nature, Point Reyes offers several campgrounds that allow visitors to stay overnight in this coastal paradise. Backcountry campsites like Wildcat Camp and Coast Camp provide the perfect setting for stargazing, listening to the sound of the waves, and waking up to stunning ocean views. Camping at Point Reyes is a memorable way to connect with the natural surroundings and experience the seashore's tranquility.

The Fascinating History of Point Reyes

Point Reyes is not only a natural wonder but also a place rich in cultural history. The area has been inhabited by the Coast Miwok people for thousands of years, and visitors can learn about their heritage at the Kule Loklo village site. The seashore also has a history of ranching and dairy farming, which continues to this day in some areas, preserving the region's agricultural traditions.

Sustainable Tourism and Conservation Efforts

Point Reyes National Seashore is committed to preserving its natural beauty and ecological integrity for future generations. The park's management emphasizes sustainable tourism practices and conservation efforts, including habitat restoration, wildlife protection, and environmental education. Visitors are encouraged to respect the natural environment, stay on designated trails, and follow Leave No Trace principles to help protect this fragile ecosystem.

Conclusion

Point Reyes National Seashore is a coastal paradise that offers something for everyone, from wildlife enthusiasts and hikers to history buffs and beach lovers. Its stunning landscapes, diverse ecosystems, and rich cultural heritage make it a unique destination that captures the essence of California's natural beauty. Whether you're visiting for a day or camping under the stars, Point Reyes is sure to leave a lasting impression on all who explore its wild and scenic shores.

[michaelcosio]

Mark Dowie - First Nations' Independence

Nov 29, 2018

Join TNS Host Michael Lerner in conversation with Investigative Historian Mark Dowie about the struggle shared by thousands of native peoples around the world for aboriginal title and self-determination. Mark’s recently published book is The Haida Gwaii Lesson: A Strategic Playbook for Indigenous Sovereignty.

Mark Dowie is an investigative historian, a former publisher and editor of Mother Jones magazine and former editor-at-large of InterNation, a transnational feature syndicate based in Paris. His recent books include The Haida Gwaii Lesson: A Strategic Playbook for Indigenous Sovereignty, Conservation Refugees: The Hundred-Year Conflict Between Global Conservation and Native Peoples, and American Foundations: An Investigative History. During his forty year media career Mark has written, edited, or published more than 200 investigative magazine articles and has won 19 journalism awards including four National MagazineAwards. He is a founding director of the Center for Investigative Reporting and taught science, environmental reporting, and foreign correspondence at the U.C. Berkeley Graduate School of Journalism, and was awarded a Doctor of Humane Letters by John F. Kennedy University.

He lives in the outskirts of Willow Point on Tomales Bay south of Inverness, California, with his wife, artist Wendy Schwartz, and their yellow lab, Gracie.

from NewSchoolCommonweal

[laurentbis]

Tomales Bay, at Point Reyes National Seashore

shipwreck. Inverness, CA

©2024 Garth Buckles

[animexlinks]

Cliffs of Tomales Point, CA, USA. (OC) [5568 x 3712]