#and on the handful of Indian names I have some uncertainty on how at least one sound in each is actually spelled

[rugessnome]

How are you liking 20 trillion leagues so far? It's on my to-read list so I am curious. :)

I'd read it before a couple times, but some years ago, closer to when it came out. I didn't remember much except for one memorable technical explanation and a suspicion about one plot point.

I'd say I find it oddly compelling, hence my return to it, although I can't promise that people will find the ending satisfying, or that everyone will like the book generally. On this reading I noticed some horror-like aspects to the story (I mean, people are stuck in a malfunctioning submarine —also, not to give too much away, but many characters eventually die. In certain regards it *might* resemble at least my understanding of the loose plot of [the Arctic season of] The Terror(?)).

Particularly the denouement is very ...science-fantasy, perhaps? (particularly physics concepts, though a smattering of biology comes in at some points) and more or less philosophical too—it doesn't have a swashbuckling adventure sort of ending.

It's been even longer since I read 20000 Leagues Under the Sea but there are some references detectable from familiarity with even the basics of that book. However, it's not a straightforward sequel or update.

It's not easy to really like most of the characters, and to me even the character who becomes a main protagonist in the second half or so of the story is not straightforwardly entirely sympathetic. (the first half is more ensemble cast, and I think all the French names eventually become clear but they can be confusing!)

content warnings: Some of the characters do express racism, primarily regarding the two Indian scientists aboard; some of it is religiously motivated. One character, in extreme circumstance, retreats into Christian fanaticism (ala Wazzer, sort of, but more homicidal). Limited references to World War II, particularly the fact that one character worked (possibly in a secret agent capacity) for the Vichy regime, and also at least one discussion where someone praises the Soviet Union. There are graphic descriptions of serious (sometimes fatal) injury, fantasy underwater ~monsters that I think are illustrated in the non-audio book, and eventually someone with fantastical body modifications.

one more slightly spoiler-y thing about someone who doesn't turn against people but also the question of narrative racism under the cut

with the caveat that I'm not entirely up on plot points of The Terror, one of the Indian scientists aboard is probably the closest the story has to a Goodsir (as in not succumbing to harming other people and trying to help other people survive until the end type stuff) but the narrative maintains a certain distance (that to me is probably intended to implicitly make a point about French attitudes of the time) and does not (third-person with some limited insight into some characters' thoughts) provide us with the viewpoint of either Indian scientist for the vast majority of the plot; it also gives very little explicit detail about the background of the two Indian scientists.

[chaotic-noceur]

malaysia truly asia

paring: Nanami Kento x Malaysian!Reader

summary: the story of how Nanami had come to know about Malaysia and his first trip to the country he had longed to visit

warnings + contents: food/eating, beach, multilingual reader (malay is mentioned, the rest is implied), malaysia references (contextual notes are provided!)

a/n: I never thought knowing the Malaysian slogan would come in handy but here I am. Words cannot express how excited my Malaysian heart got when Nanami mentioned Malaysia so I'm hurling this into the tumblr void for anyone interested :)

contextual notes + malay transalation

terima kasih = thank you

ringgit = Malaysian currency

tokyo is an hour ahead of kuantan

sunrise is around 7am in Malaysia, anytime from 4-6am in Tokyo (according to google)

roti canai = 'Indian-influenced flatbread dish' (wikipedia)

roti tisu = similar to roti canai, except thinner and shaped like a cone

pasar malam = night market, usually on closed off sections of road

flag erasers are often collected by school kids who purchase them from the on campus bookshop

"You're not from here." He says it with such assertion that there was no room to deny it, not that you were going to. You quirk an eyebrow up at him instead from your place on your bed. He nods to the english book currently in your hands as if it's a way of answer. Your head tilts to one side and he sighs before continuing. "Your Japanese is good, but you speak it with hints of... uncertainty, like it's not your mother tongue." I would know, he doesn't say. Your gaze falls from his bashfully and he seems to realise the implication of his words. "I apologise, I hadn't meant it as an insult. I was merely hoping to ask about your childhood."

Your mouth forms an o before you reply with a curt "I grew up in Malaysia and then my family moved here." He seems to consider your answer for a moment before nodding and returning his attention to his book. The pair of you fall silent, residual noise from Gojo's graduation party filters in to fill the gap. Before long, you notice his gaze flitting around the room as he shifts in his seat, a sure sign that he was looking for an opportunity to speak more. You chuckling lightly before putting your book away. "What do you want to know?"

"Everything." Your eyes narrow slightly to deduce if he's teasing. But his eyes hold nothing but genuine curiosity. It was rare for Nanami to ever display his true emotions but there was something about his eyes that was always readable to you. So you talk. You tell him about the road trips you used to take up the peninsula, showed him photos of your childhood, pointed out the few bits of home that were scattered around your room. He clings on to every word as you tell him about the near-constant summer, complained about the humidity, and reminisced about the food that you dearly missed.

Truthfully, you are surprised by his interest. Few people had even heard of the small, dual-part country, even fewer have shown any interest in learning more. Maybe this is the moment you fell in love with him. Or at least, it's the moment you accept your feelings for him as something beyond an passing crush but as something worth fighting for.

“I hope we can visit it some day,” he says when you finish.

We, not I, you think. Your heart flutters in your chest at the realisation. He is seemingly unaware at the implication. You reply with a simple “maybe”, refusing to give in to the false hope that he returns your feelings.

Some months later, you find him huddled in a quiet corner of the Jujustu High library engrossed in a book of Malaysian history, a small notepad open beside him. Where he acquired the book was beyond you. With nothing better to do with your rare moment of free time, you shrug your shoulders before heading towards him, making noises as you move so as to not startle him when you settle beside him.

You're flipping through your book in search of the bookmark when he speaks, "would you like me to read to you?" You turn to look at him so fast he's concerned you might have gotten whiplash. His cheeks are flushed slightly and he refuses to meet your eye. You blink at him for several moments and he clears his throat awkwardly. "I just - well, I was hoping to practice my English with you. It's um.." he rubs at the base of his neck, "it's been a while since I've spoken it."

"Oh," you begin for lack of words. For as long as you've known him, he has never once mentioned being multilingual. Then again, he rarely ever talked about himself. Preferring to let Yuu take the lead in conversations or to direct questions away from himself. "Sure, I'd love to help!"

"Te-li-ma kah-sir?"

"Te-ri-ma ka-sih," you correct as you swipe through the selection of in-flight movies. Nanami repeats after you and you nod before smiling at him.

"And what about 'where is the toilet?'"

Your tapping stops momentarily. "Formally, or informally?" He deadpans at you and you chuckle in response. "Di manakah tandas?" His pen glides along his pocket notebook before he repeats after you once more. "Love, you know you'll be fine with just English right?"

He drops his pen and takes a sip of beer from the clear plastic cup before responding. "I know, but it's a sign of respect to make an attempt to learn the official language." A soft smile graces your face before you resume your scrolling. You really are the luckiest human on the planet to be able to call him yours.

It's mid-afternoon when you finally leave Kuatan Airport. Travel fatigue begins to set in on the taxi ride to the beach resort Nanami had booked. You loop your arm with his before settling you head on his shoulder. Instead of telling you that you should've slept on the plane like he would've done if it was anyone else, he simply graces your forehead with a kiss before returning his gaze to the map on his phone.

Checking into the resort is a smooth process. Nanami makes quick work of talking to the receptionist before the pair of you make your way to your room, the resort porter guiding you. Nanami had been inclined to refuse but the porter rejected his offer. The pair of you make light conversation with the resort porter as you walk, Nanami using his arsenal of Malay when he can.

When you arrive at your room, Nanami takes your bags from the porter as you unlock the door. He settles the bags inside as you shake the porter's hand in thanks, passing along a 5 ringgit bill. They thank you with a bow before taking their leave. Nanami shoots you a look of surprise when he notices the action. "I wasn't aware that there was a tipping culture in Malaysia."

"There isn't, not to the extent that westerner do anyway. It's really just porters and housekeeping." You shrug.

He scowls at your slightly. "Regardless, you should have informed me," he grumbles. You chuckle at him before patting his chest lightly, avoiding his sunglasses that hang from the v of his button up.

"Well, you'll have plenty of opportunities to leave a tip for housekeeping." You're staying here for two week after all.

As Nanami does a quick sweep of the room, you set up the wifi for your respective devices before making your way to the snack cabinet. You whoop when you find a packet of your favourite childhood snack. Nanami pokes his head out from the bathroom at the sound, only to raise a curious eyebrow when he finds you crouch on the floor, holding the packet as if it was your child. "What?" you exclaim, "I haven't seen these in years!" His arms shoot up in surrender before he returns to his checks, his lips curling into a smile at your antics.

When Nanami returns to the bedroom, he finds you asleep on the sofa, phone slipping from your grip. He removes it before it falls as he rubs at his eyes as the travel fatigue begins to hit him too. The long flight and layover hadn't done either of you any favours but he supposes that what he gets for choosing a city with a small airport.

He changes you out of your travel clothes before moving you to the bed. Once he stashes your valuables into the safe, he freshens himself up before crawling in beside you. You smell of an airport and the mist the flight attendants had sprayed in the cabin but he doesn't care as he nuzzles his nose into your neck.

This is peace, he thinks. No missions, no curses and no Gojou Satoru. Just the two of you and a (mostly) endless supply of sunshine. He likes the thought of that.

When he wakes from his nap, you’re no longer by his side. He panics for a moment before he turns and finds you sitting out on the wooden deck, admiring the ocean view as the sun begins to set. Raking a hand through his hair, he climbs out of bed and makes his way to you. You smile at him as he sits down before laying your head against his shoulder, his arm looping around your waist.

“Sorry I threw us off schedule,” you say after a while.

You feel his head shake against yours before he says, “as long as you're by my side, there's nothing to apologise for. We’re on holiday. Let’s enjoy the peace while it lasts.”

“Afraid Gojou’s going to appear out of thin air?” you tease. He groans at the mention of his senior's name.

"Don't mention that name again. You'll jinx us." This time, you can't help laugh against him. You peck his cheek in consolidation and he think maybe, just maybe, for once in his life, Gojou will keep his meddling fingers out of things that are none of his concern.

The next two weeks go by in a blur of delicious food, sandy toes and a ridiculous amount of sweat. If there was one thing you didn't miss about Malaysia, it was the humidity. But it never stopped Nanami from intertwining his fingers with yours or ghosting a kiss onto your temple. The pair of you had quickly settled into fragments of a routine since you had first arrived.

Every morning, Kento watches the sunrise from the cushioned seat on the wooden deck. The first time it happened was unintentional. His body had become habituated to waking up early for work. That, combined with the 1 hour time difference and the fact that the sun rose significantly later in Malaysia, meant that he had woken up well before the sky had shown any indication of light. You were still fast asleep, unmoving even as he slowly untangled himself from you. So as to not disturb you, he made himself a cup of tea and read from his Kindle on the wooden deck until the sun had began poking out of the horizon.

Then it just became his own little ritual. On occasions where you wake with him, the pair of you take a walk along the beach. The ocean waves kiss your bare feet to the beat of a song you do not know as you talk about your plans for the day. You stumble across a sea turtle laying her eggs one morning and the pair of you settle onto the sand, far enough away as to not spook her, but close enough to marvel at the rare sight.

Nanami pulls out his phone after a while to record a quick video and sends it to Yuuji. Not long after, Gojou attempts to facetime him and Nanami turns off his phone without hesitation. You chuckle at their antics before you feel your phone vibrating in your pocket. Nanami declines all of Gojou calls for you and he gives up after 7 rejections. In hindsight, Nanami really should have seen that coming but he blames the cloud of holiday bliss that fogs his mind.

The rest of your days are spent enjoying the ocean breeze (or more often, the ocean heat), exploring the local attractions, immersing yourselves in the culture and best of all, devouring authentic Malaysian food. Nanami had made a list of the most recommended dining locations ranging from high end restaurants to road side food stalls and you make it your shared mission to visit every single one before you leave.

At each shop, he informs you of the best rated dishes but trusts your instincts/cravings for the most part. You point out any items that he 'has to try, at least once' and he asks questions about the items that pique his interest. More often than not, the pair of you will order a variety of dishes and share them, not able to settle on just one. Being the bread lover that he is, he takes a liking to roti canai. Although he isn't particularly unadventurous with his choices, always settling for a plain roti canai and opting for experimenting with curries instead. So, you take the plunge for him, knowing he'll likely be intrigued by the pointy hat shaped crepe that sits before you — he later learns that it's a roti tisu, or the stuffed roti that arrives. (He thanks you later.)

On your last night there, the pair of you make your way to the biggest pasar malam in the city. Nanami had a list of local fruits that he was hoping to buy while you had a list of souvenir ideas for the kids and your coworkers. You walk hand in hand, following the flow of footfall as your eyes scan the stalls. Nanami doesn't particularly know what he's looking for as he passes the snack stalls but he's enjoying himself all the same as he watches you converse with the stall keepers in a foreign tongue. He slips out of his daze when he feels a cold packet being pressed against his hand. "What's this?" He slips his wrist through the plastic loop and grips the tied-off section of the bag.

"Sugar cane!" you chirp, radiating an excited aura that rivalled Yuuji. Must be the atmosphere, he thinks. He takes a sip through the straw as you receive your change. Sweetness floods his taste buds but don’t overwhelm them. He savours the refreshing coolness it brings, contrasting the humidity. You look to him expectedly as you tug him further down the street. “Good?” you ask over the noise from the crowd.

“Acceptable.” There's a look of content tugging on his features that contradicts his tone and a soft smile tugs at your lips before you're promptly distracted by another stall.

When you finally arrive at the fruit stalls, you’re armed with a packet of cheap flag erasers for the students and an assortment of sugary snacks for the school staff room. The crowd had dwindled as you moved further towards the back of the market, allowing you a clear view of most of the stalls before you.

Nanami tugs on your intertwined hands before leading you towards a stall with mountains of rambutans and mangosteens. He nods politely at the elderly couple manning the store and accepts the plastic basket they hand him. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice the smile that tugs at his lips when they greet him in English. Undoubted pleased to be able to use his skills.

“I assume I should pick the ones that are not blackened and soft?” he says to you when the couple finish explaining the pricing. You nod in response as you begin carefully placing fruits into the basket. Nanami mimics your actions beside you before his attention is grabbed by the fruits to your right. “Is that what I believe it to be?”

You follow his gaze as he speaks. When they fall on spiky green fruits and packets of yellow, your eyes light up in delight. “Mhmm,” you hum before turning back to face him. There’s a sparkle of wonder in his eyes that makes you laugh before you turn to speak to the woman, “how much for a packet of durian?”

You look wistfully at the whole durians as the lady bags your items. As much as you would love to see Nanami use his 7:3 technique on the fruit (you can almost sense your ancestors rolling over in their graves at the thought), you know you won't be able to finish it off by yourselves. Besides, there is no guarantee that Nanami wouldn't hate it.

Rather uneventfully, Nanami does not hate durian on instinct — "the smell is uninviting, but the fruit itself is decent," he says as he helps himself to another. So, with the remnants of fruit juice clinging to your lips and the lingering smell of durian on your breath (despite your best efforts to get rid of both), the pair of you now walk along the beach's shoreline. Your pinkies are looped as you rejoice in the complete and utter sense of peace. There are no curses to be worrying about, no impromptu visit from a certain colleague. And for the first time in a long long time, Nanami feels like he can let his guard down. He feels like he doesn’t need to keep looking over his shoulder all the time. He doesn't feel the weight of the country's safety settling in his chest.

“We should come back some time,” he says as the waves lap at your feet gently.

You raise an eyebrow at him, “not sick of fending off mosquitoes and melting in the heat yet?” There’s a teasing glint in your eyes and he chuckles along with you.

He smiles at you then — genuinely, without fear of showing his emotions, shakes his head and kisses your temple gently. “Maybe we can visit your family next time. You can show me where you grew up, your favourite places, where you had your first date...” You smack him across his chest for his teasing while he chuckles at the action.

“Maybe one day.” He interlocks your hands then and ghosts a kiss over your knuckles before looping it over your shoulder to pull you into his chest. One day... when you’re both rid of this curse-riddled life.

[drbibliophile]

Sunday Romance 04-05-21

Prompt:  You found me 

Word count: 1395

Tagging:  @sunday-romance @sophiaroe @viawrites-andacts

I finally got started on Camp Nanowrimo which is occupying my mind more.  However, here’s a little something.  It sounded better in my head, but so it goes.    

Christian unlocked the apartment door and tossed his keys onto the side table.  He locked the door securely behind him before he flipped on the hall light.  Another wild and exciting evening of takeout Indian and doom scrolling either through the TV or on his phone.  Phone.  He could call Jocelyn.  He could try to explain, but he wasn’t sure that she would listen.  He wasn’t sure he’d listen if he was in her shoes either.  Christ, it was all completely fucked up and he knew it.  

He headed for the combination kitchen, living, and dining room.  The apartment wasn’t large, but it was clean and cheap.  He could stay here incognito for a while as he and Nick figured out what to do.  It would’ve been nice to have better internet.  Then he could’ve spent some time mindlessly gaming.  However, the connection here was wonky and he didn’t have his gaming machine.  Probably for the best anyway.  He put the takeout bag on the counter and opened up the fridge.  

“For tonight’s choice of a lovely beverage we have either unsweet iced tea or sweet iced tea or water.”  He practiced his announcing voice.  “It’s a challenge, of course, but one I’m certain that our hero can muddle through.”   He leaned down to reach into the fridge.  “Let us see what he decides.”  

“I’d go for the sweet iced tea.”  

Jocelyn’s voice shocked him.  He tried to stand, but instead he managed to slam his head into the fridge.  “Ow! Shit!”  

He backed out of the fridge and stood cautiously.  He rubbed the sore spot on the back of his head.  Jocelyn.  She was here, sitting in one of the dining table chairs.  It was turned away from the table and faced the kitchen.  She was leaning back in her chair, her dark colored duster still around her.  She had one leg crossed over the other while one hand rested on the table top.  Her other arm slung over and behind the chair.  She had a neutral expression on her face, but he doubted that she was neutral.  

“Joce.”  He managed to say her name without squeaking.  

“Christian.”  

She was mad.  She only called him by his full name when she was angry with him.  “You found me.”  She shrugged, the dangerous No, Really, Tell Me Something I Don’t Already Know Shrug.  “I mean, how?”  

She smirked, the Angry as Fuck Smirk, another sign that boded poorly for him.  “Wasn’t too hard.  You aren’t as sneaky as you think.”  

“Oh.”  Disappointment flooded him.  

“Though choosing a big city was smart.  You’d stick out like a sore thumb in a smaller place.  Also choosing this part of town was good.  People like to keep themselves, don’t care too much about what their neighbors are doing.”  

“It was clean and cheap.”  

“Amazingly enough.”  

“Anything else I should know in case I want to go on the lam again?”  

She glanced away, but she couldn’t completely squelch her snort.  “No.  You actually did a decent job.  Probably would’ve taken me longer to find you if I hadn’t gone straight to Plan B.”  

That surprised him.  “Which was?”  

She settled a lethal gaze on him.  “Threatening Nicholas with bodily harm if he didn’t tell me where you were.”  “And he gave me up?”  

“Yes, and pretty quickly too.”  

“Damn.”  He looked down at the formica counter.  “So much for having my back.”  

“Oh, I wouldn’t be too hard on him.”  He heard the chair move and creak as she stood.  “I can be pretty intimidating.”   

He looked up to find her standing on the other side of the counter from him.  “Yes, you can be.”  He meant for it to sound light, but he wasn’t sure he succeeded.  

She smirked again, but this was more the I’m Supposed to Be Annoyed But Instead I Am Amused smirk.  That was at least something positive.  “Glad we can agree on that.”  

He smiled back at her, but the smile faded swiftly.  “So, what are you doing here?”  he asked cautiously.  “Here to kick my ass?”  

She shrugged, the Trying to Keep All the Emotions Under Control Shrug.  “Thought about it.  Thought about it a lot.  Nate was definitely in favor of that option.”  

“Big brothers tend to be.”  

“Yes.  M couldn’t decide if I should or not.”  

He raised an eyebrow in surprise.  “Thought she’d be calling for my head on a silver platter.”  

“She was, but then she thought that maybe I should listen to your side of the story.”  She paused, looking away as she did.  “Before I kicked your ass.”  

“So the general consensus is that I need an ass-kicking.”  

“So it would seem.”  

 “Then what are you going to do?”   Uncertainty and apprehension dried his mouth as he waited for her answer. 

Jocelyn faced him.  She wasn’t smirking.  There was no anger to her expression at all.  She wore all her hurt on her face.  His chest clenched and his stomach churned in ways that made him nauseous.  Christ, this was worse than her being angry at him.  Anger he could manage, but this hurt?  This incredibly vulnerable and painful look on her face?  That he had caused because he was an idiot?  It slayed him, hitting him like a combination punch to the gut and heat.  

She swallowed hard.  “Ask you why you were so uncertain of me that you couldn’t tell me the truth.”      

He closed his eyes, his chest so tight he couldn’t breathe.  Of course she would see it that way.  He should’ve known, should’ve said something, but he hadn’t so here they were.  He looked up at her, wincing at her continued hurt.  He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.  He tried again, desperate for the words that wouldn’t send her to the door.  He had so many lines memorized, but none of them would work.  Because none of them were the truth and if anything, that was what she deserved.  The truth.  

“I wasn’t uncertain of you,” he finally managed. 

“Then what?”  

He looked away.  “More I was uncertain of me.”  

That surprised her.  “Meaning?”  

He swallowed, trying to find a way to ease the pressure in his chest.  It wasn’t coming.  “Meaning I wasn’t sure if you’d believe me.”   

“And why wouldn’t I?”  

“I don’t know.  Most people haven’t.”  

“I’m not most people.”  

“No, you’re not.”  He studied her, wanting desperately to believe that she did believe him.  “So you believe me?”  

“Dangerous question.”  

He winced.  “You don’t believe me?”  

“Didn’t say that either.”  

“Then what?”  

She crossed her arms over her chest.  “It’s a hard story to swallow and honestly, I was going to cut you loose because getting cheated on by a movie star is awfully cliche and I’m so not into cliches.”  

“But…”  

She stopped him by holding her hand up.  “Then I decided that I couldn’t do that until I had the chance to kick your ass as thoroughly as it needed to be kicked which meant finding you for said ass-kicking which meant I had to talk to Nicholas since had decided to try and disappear.”  Her arms dropped to her sides.  “That gave him the chance to corroborate your side of the story, that it’s all some frame-up.”  

There was that damn hope again easing up the pressure in his chest.  “So you do believe me?”  She just studied him, tilting her head as she did.  “Joce,” he growled as she didn’t answer.  Then she smiled, that special I Adore You Even If You Are an Idiot smile, and his chest lost its ache.  “You believe me.”  

“Yes.”  She moved to the same side of the counter as him.  “Because while you’re a brilliant actor, the rest of you is too much of a himbo to cheat on anyone.”  

He looked at her skeptically even as he pulled her to him.  “Thanks, I think.”  

She grinned.  “Take it as a compliment.  It’s the only reason I believe you.”  

“Done.”  He kissed her hard, eager for the feel of her against him again.  She kissed him back, no hesitation that he could sense.  “Sorry.”  

She shook her head.  “Don’t be.”  Her hand caressed over his cheek.  

“So now what?”  She grinned.  “We eat, we have some sexy times, and then we figure out how to take the bastards out.”  

He grinned.  “Yes, ma’am.”

[baekchelor]

𝕕𝕒𝕪𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕕𝕖𝕔𝕖𝕡𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟

pairings: George Mackay x reader genre: romantic comedy rating: pg13 synopsis: on the set of his new film, golden boy George Mackay learns a basic human truth: that the heart is deceitful above all things.

❝ i  love  you  without  knowing  how,  or  when,  or  from  where.❞                                                                                                                       —pablo  neruda

THREE | HEARTACHE & FAREWELLS ◄ ᴘʀᴇᴠ

Daisy (against Geo's wishes) flies to Mumbai a little over a month into the shoot. Dharma is extending its filming period to six weeks, just as Alma predicted, so although George's left scenes are few, Daisy still gets to see him in action when —without an invitation, she arrives on set.

"I said I'd meet you at the hotel," he says as he greets her once Greta wrapped George’s last take for the day.

It's him and two other actors for this particular scene, in which Edmund reveals amidst the chaos of the Indian rebellion, he's well aware of James' feelings towards his wife.

Y/N is back at The Taj, probably still asleep. It is her free day, and George has come to learn the girl cherishes snooze above all things good. She'd rather stay in her Pj's and dreamland instead of strolling across Mumbai's beaches.

Daisy pecks George on the cheek, and a few of the staff members milling around them exchange curious glances. As far as George knows, no one but Dean and his sister, know about the friends-with-benefits situation with Daisy. And as far as he's concerned, everyone on the crew (except maybe Dev Patel. George suspects he's got a crush on Y/N too) were rooting and gossiping about Geo and Y/N's potential to become an item. So of course, they all seem taken aback with the unknown blonde wrapping her arms around George’s shoulder blades.  

"I wanted to surprise you," Daisy whispers into his ear, standing on her tiptoes.

She's smiling up at him now, a complexion like peaches and cream, and George can make out signals of uncertainty in her expression. Daisy still looks as lovely as he remembers, yet not as beautiful as his lovely one. It hits him just then, how easily Y/N's smile can melt him down —and how, at this moment, Daisy's smile only makes him feel guilty.

"We're okay, aren't we, Georgie?" There it is again: the minimal furrowing of her brow, the vulnerable pull in her mouth. "You've just been busy, haven't you?"

He smiles back as tenderly as he can to reassure her. It seems to work because her features illuminate.

"Yeah," He puts his arm around her, the protectiveness of it a habit. Might this be how Y/N feels with Henry? "Come on. Let's go to The Taj."

Daisy's booked a separate room, of course. She even checked in at a completely different floor. George knows she's here on a mission, and she's going to try to spend at least one night in the same bed as he; but for some reason, it feels wrong to have a girl in the same mattress Y/N has fallen asleep, read books and talk to him about everything and nothing.

"Let's go out to dinner tonight," Daisy is wearing her hair down today, the way George likes it best. "Tell Y/N/N to come too. With a date, if she likes." Her expression slides into something conspiratorial. "She shouldn't have any trouble finding one by seven, right?"

"I don't see why she would," George manages to say, feeling the weight of it sink into his chest.

Things haven't been strange between him and Y/N. Not at all. Not if George ignores the razor-sharp awareness that prickles over his skin every time Y/N sits a little too close, so their thighs touch, or looks at her for a moment too long, so he catches that question Y/N never asked still lingering in her gaze.

Daisy is waiting expectantly, so against his inner-self will, and in an effort to prove God-knows-what to himself, George takes his phone and types out a message:

Two hours later, Y/N replies, and George realises he didn't clarify the fact that the Daisy in the matter isn't his sister but his friend. He doesn't want to let her know he has a physical relationship with a girl via text, so he opts to break the news before they walk into the restaurant.

George wipes off his lips with the corner of a table napkin. He keys in the name of the establishment, the time of their reservation and puts his phone away. Daisy sips her white wine, lashes thick and eyes reserved for him, and the likeness George would generally feel is overpowered by unease.

Much to George's dismay, Dev Patel —the other man in the crew who's also from London and can be referred to as London Boy (yes, George is still investigating if the nickname is reserved for him and if Y/N likes Taylor Swift)— is whom she brings as a date. He's much taller than her, the height difference more pronounced since Y/N is wearing flat sandals. The dress on Daisy is similar to the cobalt mini-dress loosely falling from Y/N's shoulders. Yet Daisy only manages to look almost —almost— as beautiful in George's eyes.

When Dev and Y/N walk into the restaurant together, her hand tucked around his arm, George experiences the tell-tale clench of disappointment. However, his inner self knows better, disappointment might be one of the many symptoms, but the most prominent is jealousy.

<< So there's a new London Boy. >>

"Y/N Y/L/N!" Daisy trills. "I'm so glad to finally meet you."

"Hello... Daisy?" Y/N replies with a discreet smile. She looks over at George, wondering why this Daisy is not the one she expected to encounter, this Daisy doesn't smile in the exact same way George does, and this Daisy is one Y/N hasn't ever heard about. George wants to apologize, entwine their hands and explain the long thread of misconceptions that took place since that one call in George's suite, but he knows this is not the place nor the right time to do it.

"Dev," London Boy #2 greets, extending his palm to shake Daisy's. George is grateful. "Are you George's girlfriend?

George is not grateful anymore.

Dev's eyes shine, he directs to George, "She's gorgeous, man."

"We're not a couple, actually."

"Oh."

"Yeah, we're complicated," Daisy ripostes.

George smiles at him half-heartedly, his gaze drifting immediately to Y/N's face. The studied neutrality on it, which every movie star learns to uphold in front of a press line —only to drop the facade when they're out with friends—, is what makes every trace of that half-smile disappear completely.

"What is it?" Daisy whispers as George pulls out her seat for her. No matter the situation, he is a gentleman.

George bends, so her lips are at the level of his ear. "What is what?"

Y/N catches the movement, and their eyes meet from across the table.

Daisy puts her little hand on George's bicep. "Why do you look so..." Y/N is staring at him, "...so sad?"

George's answer is stolen when charming Dev pulls out Y/N's chair for her. George has shared enough time with Dev on set, howbeit, he didn't realise how...touchy he is when he expresses his attention. The moment he is seated and Y/N smiles next to him, he brushes his fingers over her cheek and the corner of her mouth, with careful attention. Y/N isn't looking at George anymore.

On cue, George tears his eyes away too. "I don't know what you mean," he tells Daisy breezily, pressing his lips to her temple and sliding into his seat in one smooth movement. It's a dick move, he knows, but he has never felt so jealous in his whole life; thus, he cannot get a proper hold of his emotions.

Daisy is smart, intuitive, George is sure she doesn't buy his excuse when her hand cautiously removes itself from his arm and comes to fidget in her lap.

"Georgie..." she tries again, under her breath. Dev taps Y/N on the chin, and she responds with a tiny smirk.

Fuck it. George swallows harshly. There is a bitter taste in his mouth he can't seem to get rid of, not even after his second sip of scotch. "Everything is fine, Daisy."

But Daisy won't stop eyeing him after that. Long, searching looks from behind her menu and wine glass; quick, puzzled glances she tries to play off when Dev draws her into the conversation. When she reaches for it, George permits her to wrap her little hand around him under the table, but he doesn't squeeze back.

Y/N focuses her attention on Dev, letting her feed things to her off his plate with his fork and placing her hand between his shoulder blades when he murmurs a question into her waiting ear. It might be due to the same reason as George allows Daisy to hold his hand, or it might be because she is as angry as George suspects.

Dinner runs long, even though George can't remember anything that was discussed from the arrival of the breadbasket to the departure of the dessert plates. Only the cut of Y/N's lips, the bump of her chest when she breathes, her entire face in perpetual profile.

After picking at her food and swilling way too much chardonnay for her unlined stomach to handle, Daisy gets drunk. You've got to be kidding me, crosses George's mind before he's practically forced to piggyback Daisy out of the restaurant, into Tha Taj's elevator and to his room. She hooks her chin over his shoulder.

"Have fun tomorrow," Y/N susurrates. Dev has his palm at the small of her back, and George wants to slap it away.

"I'm sorry," George starts to say, but drunk Daisy surprises him by biting down gently on the juncture of his neck and shoulder. If he were not a good boy, a good London Boy, George would have dropped Daisy off his back. He wants her gone, now, yet he understands Daisy is at an awkward position, and he hasn't helped at all. George should be honest with her, how come, though? If he hasn't been honest with himself.

As an answer, Y/N shakes her head, dismissing the matter. She forces a smile, George can tell, it's the same expression he writes on his face when he's tired and annoyed and still has to stop to take photos at an Award Show. "Good night, heartbreak prince," Y/N murmurs.

That strikes a chord. George whips his face around, baffled. First London Boy, now Heartbreak Prince. He can't remember it as clear, but his sister repeatedly plays a particular album when she bakes, it is the same record London Boy belongs too, and a certain song, phrase, quote, lyric, contains those two words Y/N just told him: Heartbreak Prince.

Greta gives George the day off. The rumour has spread that a beautiful and clingy visitor surprised him on set yesterday. George hadn't asked for special treatment, but Gerwig insists.

"Show your girl around," the director says over the phone, in the sage tone of a mother. He can't help but correct her, Daisy is not his girl, merely a friend. Greta laughs, maintaining her position, "I'll film the scenes you aren't in. Marina and Edmund (George frowns at it, he doesn't want Michael Fassbender kissing his girl. But at least it is not Dev Patel), falling in love. I had their scenes programmed in two days, I'm just going to advance it. We'll survive without you for a day, prince."

Prince?

And again, he tortures himself with his endless theories about London Boy and Heartbreak Prince. He tells Daisy he's tired, so they reclude on his suite. To show Daisy around feels like betraying Y/N, he visited every landmark on the city with her, and he doesn't want to corrupt the memories by bringing a girl who's not her.

George pours Daisy a cup of coffee. She slept in his bed last night after he'd gently unzipped her dress and slipped one of his sleeping shirts over her head. George fell asleep in a chair by the bed, watching her breathe and feeling like a terrible person. 

"Are you sure you don't want to go out? You shouldn't miss Mumbai's wonders because of me..." George comes to her side, handing her the cup, which she sets down on the nightstand. Then she holds out her arms, so he knows to crawl back into bed with her.

"I came here to be with you," she says, pulling him down until he's half on top of her. Her fingers thread through his hair on cue, but now the gesture lacks the confidence it used to have behind it. George doesn't know what makes him kiss her on the collarbone, almost like he's asking for forgiveness, but he does it once, twice, before resting his cheek against her chest.

They only have sex towards the end of the day, after George has texted his sister concerning a Taylor Swift song —he thinks is— about a Heartbreak Prince. As the other Daisy dips a teaspoon in each of the tarts and cakes available on the in-room dining menu, his sister sends him a youtube link to a song called Ms Americana & The Heartbreak Prince. George doesn't play it, it would be weird if he pulled out his AirPods with Daisy in the room. Instead, he reads the lyrics.

Scrolling through the words, he comes to terms that the nicknames might be nothing but a coincidence. He is indeed from London, and if anybody saw the way Daisy' stared at him at yesterday's dinner, they would have called him Heartbreak Prince as well. But another part of him, really wants it to be premeditated. He wants to be the London Boy, and he wants to be the boy Y/N thinks of when —if— she listens to Taylor Swift sing: you know I adore you, I’m crazier for you.

At dusk, when Daisy slides her hand up the back of his shirt, scratching lightly down his spine, George knows what she wants. She keeps her eyes open like she wants to memorise the expression on his face as he divests her of her underwear and pulls her body against his. Her mouth tastes like strawberries.

Daisy was never very vocal in bed. Whenever they get together, which is often because who's George kidding, that's basically the purpose of a no-strings-attached relationship, she muffles her moans into his shoulder or trades them for delicate gasps. The look of pure, unadulterated pleasure on her face expresses more than any sound could. Tonight, on the contrary, as he moves over her, she cries out uninhibitedly, like she doesn't care if anybody hears. Like she would just keep going even if someone came knocking on the door demanding her to shut the fuck up.

"Daisy," George forces out in the heat of it all, brows furrowed. "Am I hurting you?" And even as he says it, he hopes, so fervently, that Y/N is still out filming, not alone in her room next door, privy to their noise. It makes him sick to his stomach. The fact that he's thinking about someone else —another girl— when Daisy is wet and naked beneath him. "Tell me if I'm hurting you."

"Not like this," Daisy mumbles.

The cryptic nicknames are still running through George's mind when he's led to a chair and simultaneously seen to by hair and makeup. Daisy left this morning, much to George's relief. The feeling doesn't last long. He knows he should expect it by now (They shoot ninety per cent of their scenes together, for god's sake) but that doesn't stop him from jerking in surprise at the sweet sound of Y/N's voice. It sends his stomach into knots, and he swears he can feel something fluttering around.

"Hello," is all she says as she climbs into the makeup chair opposite George's. The stylists enveloped her in a white lace ruffle gown. Her dyed black, long hair has been placed into two victory rolls at either side of her head. It makes her look like a fucking angel and there, right there, is that wretched question in her eyes.

George folds his lips to wet them. "Long time no see, Gorgeous." He ventures, because his research told him it is also a Taylor Swift song, and maybe she'll take the sign that he has discovered her little riddle —if it even exists.  

"It's only been a day," Y/N giggles. "But I know what you mean."The tinge of longing behind it does not go unnoticed. 

"I didn't know about you and Dev," George ventures, because he can't help himself. "I guess it really is off this time with Henry."

"It's been over for a while, Geo." Y/N looks over, and the heat of her innocent gaze sets every single bump on George's spine on fire. "And Dev is just–"

"Are you sleeping with him?" George butts in.

Y/N's eyes darken. She’s clearly mad, and with the right to, what the fuck is wrong with him? "No. I'm not sleeping with him and its none of your business." Her voice is sharp and hollow, and George can only think about how even though he just screwed up, he can still get the girl. That, until Y/N continues, "Only one of us has bedded someone since we got to Mumbai, and it isn't me."

George flushes, swift as a sea swell. "You heard us?"

"I didn't have to," Y/N replies dryly.

Then, just like the first day they'd met, at the read-through in London, she seems to sense that she's said too much, and her mouth —that perfect, kissable mouth, stills over the last word. She shifts in her seat.

"I'm sorry," she mutters. "That was inappropriate of me."

"I'm sorry, too," George offers in return. Everything about the apology is melancholic.

"For what?"

"Thinking you were sleeping with him." After a pause, he continues, “And telling you about it. That was really disrespectful.”

But that's a lie. George is sorry for so many other things. He apologizes because he feels like he's just cheated on someone, and worse, on someone who's not even with him. Call him coward, George doesn't want to ruin what they have. What if she isn't over Henry? What if things don't work between them and they can never go back to this?

He doesn't know how long they sit in silence; it could be three minutes, it could be thirty. The hairstylists and makeup artists have long finished their work and proceeded to the craft service table. The crew is having technical difficulties today, something about the street’s uncooperative lighting. From behind them, George can make out an intense discussion on veganism between two of their co-stars (one plays Marina's maid, and the other plays Clint, a soldier who's close friends with James). Tomorrow, the girl and two other actors who portray Marina's parents will fly back to London, having completed their scenes in Mumbai.

George and Y/N, along with the rest of the actors who interpret Marina's love interests and Clint, will stay on for another six days to complete theirs.

"When I was dating Henry," Y/N says out of the blue, her voice stumpy but clear over the din of production. George smiles at the past tense she employs. "Someone else tried to confess his feelings for me."

"Just one person?" George is not in the teasing mood, so his smirk is lukewarm. He wants to thin the heavy sensation in the air around them. "I find that hard to believe."

"So did I," Y/N continues, "because we were really close friends."

That's not what George had meant, nor what he had been expecting. He wanted her to giggle, laugh even, not to feel like she's speaking to him. Maybe she suspects George fancies her, and this is her way to prevent him from going further.

"Oh." It takes a little time for him to formulate a better response. Y/N waits, or at least, that's what it feels like. "How did it happen?"

She picks at her fingernails, "He told me at a dinner party."

“What's a dinner without a little drama," George says, referring to their dinner with Daisy and Dev, just to fill in the static.

"After dinner, the cast was supposed to head to a bar and him, Booboo, said he wanted to drive with me."

"Booboo…” The name is too singular not to recognize. "Booboo Stewart?"

"Yes," she confirms. Y/N's fingers curl in the lacey fabric of her dress. "We walked to the parking lot together. And just like that, he began to tell me."

A chill treads lightly over George's nape. "What did he say?"

"Nothing," Y/N takes a deep, deep breath and releases it, like something in it has pained her. "I shut him down so fast. " Y/N's mouth sets in a grim line. "I asked him if he enjoyed the dinner, and all in a rush changed the subject to Henry and how good our relationship was at the moment...'"

"And what did he say?" George whispers. His heart is pounding out a hazardous beat.

"He didn't say a word," she tells him. "His face just crumpled, right there in front of me, and I felt so terrible." Y/N tugs at the snug, starched silver necklace she’s wearing as if it's part of the problem. "He was pretty much my best friend among the cast, you know? So I just pretended it never happen. I wanted him to know I still considered him a friend."

George can already see where this is going.

"But after that night, things just turned so weird between us," Y/N says. She's not looking at George, it only adds to his unease. "We couldn't rescue our friendship."

"It ruined it..." George murmurs.

The girl exhales, and it's as pained as it had been earlier. Her eyes have mellow considerably, and finally, she stares right into George's blue eyes. They don't exchange words for a while, their gazes seem to hold enough meaning. George is scared, frightened really, but he still manages to ask what intrigues him.

"Why," his throat works. "Why are you telling me this story?"

"I don't know." Y/N's voice falters, and George waits for the worst. Instead, she says something George didn't expect: "I guess because, recently, I feel like I'm Booboo, trying to say something and getting cut off before I can."

"If you're Booboo," George says, with a twinge, "then who is you?"

The look on Y/N's face is bewildered; soft and yielding too, like overheated butter.

There is a fifty per cent chance —George thinks to himself—, that she won't say what he wants her to say; rather, she will name the London Boy whose hair is black and eyes are brown. That leaves a fifty per cent chance —he continues thinking—, that Y/N will say what George wants her to say. And that is his name.

It is you, George.

"All right!" Greta bellows from the centre of the car park. Y/N snaps to attention, and the spell binding them together is broken. "Lighting issue addressed. We're ready for you!"

Inside, George's organs have turned to quicksand, caving into themselves speck by speck.

"That's us," Y/N says, hopping out of her chair. "Thanks for letting me ramble over my ridiculous stories," she laughs, and it rings with nerves.

George gets up too. "I like your stories," he mutters, suddenly thinking about closure and the different definitions it would hold for him, for Daisy, for Y/N and for, now happy (he hopes), Booboo Stewart.

"Excuse me?"

George didn't realize he wanted to tell someone so severely until Dean called and asked him about his time in Mumbai, his scenes for Dharma, and if he had won the bet. "You did. I liked it. Kissing Y/N."

"Are you telling me?”

"I want her." No filter. "I think I'm infatuated with her."

"Wow." Nothing is masking Dean's shock. "Wow. All this time, I was having a blast teasing you about it, because you're not the kind of man that falls for his co-star, but...wow." He chokes out a laugh. "You won't be a bachelor anymore, huh?"

"Won't I?" George says miserably. "Nothing is going to happen, Dean."

"Have you talked to her about it?"

"No." He and Y/N only talk in riddles. "It doesn't matter, either way, because I won't ruin our friendship."

"I understand," Dean puts in. For the first time in many months, George can tell his friend is being wholly serious. "But can things really go back to the way they were now that you know?"

"Now that I know...what?" A question for a question. It's always been a bad habit of George.

Dean spells it out for him with impatience. George can imagine him rolling his eyes, sick of him, "That you have these feelings for her." He exhales. "I hate to be the one to break this out for you, but if you don't tell her how you feel and she goes back to Henry or dates someone else, do you know how will that make you feel?" Dean barrels on, not bothering to stop for breath. "Ridiculous! Full of regrets! Like you lost her when you had the opportunity to be with her, right there in front of you. Idiot."

George grips his phone a little tighter. "I won't get hurt. And I have Daisy." He's gritting his teeth, molars digging into each other as he speaks. "She's a good girl, and she loves me, might give her a chance."

The silence is back, but only for a moment. "I understand you, Geo." It feels like their stations have been reversed, and Dean is age, and George is beauty. "Daisy is everything good." It's sad the way Dean says it, pitiful, even. "But you can't stay with people just because they're good. You stay with them because they are everything."

George tries to form a rebuttal to that, the leather case of his phone squeaking in his hand from how tightly he's grasping it. But he comes up empty, and he and Dean huff into the receiver at the same time.

The final scene of Marina and James is ironically, filmed on their last day in Mumbai. It is their reunion, where a wounded James comes back from England, unaware that Clint informed Marina about the injuries he suffered while fighting the rebellion, and that at the same fire in which Colonel Edmund lost his life, James lost his sight. Marina loves him and is finally able to be with him, even if Edmund is ashamed of the way his face, and body looks.

They're filming the whole thing at the Gateway of India. George remembers it well from the time they went to Elephanta and Y/N held onto his arm as if her life depended on it. George will remember it for another reason now: the end of a brief, bewitching chapter.

Greta Gerwig pulls his two leading stars into a meeting before she starts rolling. "I want to work with you two again," she says warmly. "I knew this movie was going to be a success when you both signed on."

They smile in turn, murmuring their thanks.

The director gets down to business, looking pleased as punch. "What I need you to do for me in this last scene is making me feel the longing." She squeezes her fists together with gusto. Then she looks at them with a smile painted on her thin lips. "I want it to feel like you're the only two people left in the world. Forget about the extras, and Aakesh looking at the scene. You don't see anybody else —George quite literally—, or hear anybody else, except the person in front of you, and how much you missed them while you were separated." Greta breathes in. "You think you can do that?"

"I'll try my best, Boss," Daniella says in earnest. George nods along, watching her. He wonders if Greta Gerwig, the screenwriter and the vastness of the universe are all conspiring against him.

George repasses his lines on his head, it's supposed to be a sign to the last time James and Marina saw each other —when they made love. The lines are the same, only said different, and George knows every single sentence James will speak to the woman he loves when he hears Greta Gerwig's "Action!"

George can hear the sound of his own breathing crisp in his ears. If he cuts his eyes, just so, to the right, he can make out the rosy swell of Y/N's lip.

"Can you love me like this?" he murmurs, chest heaving. The force of his real-life emotion slams into him like a concrete wall.

"Always" Y/N —no, it's Marina, Marina— thumbs over the still open scar that cuts from his right eye to his chin. Then, so slowly it aches, she kisses him.

There's a celebration party that evening at an Italian Restaurant. It's on the eighth floor of a midrise commercial building. From the window, George observes the rows and columns of flashy lights that crowd the horizon, blinding and unapologetic.

He and Y/N stick close together, preceding conversation for a silence that teems with unsaid things.

As the night winds down, and the people around them begin to file out in a wine-induced haze, George is emboldened enough to ask, "Can I sleep in your room tonight?" He knows how close he is to reveal himself (if George hasn't done it already), how inappropriate it is to ask that to a girl, and he doesn't give a shit. "For old time's sake."

"Uhm…yeah, no problem," Y/N answers. "Whatever you want." It's so simple, yet so loaded, and it makes George curl his toes inside his sneakers.

They take turns in the shower. George's brought his sleeping clothes and his toothbrush, the way he does when he goes over to Daisy's...but George stops the thought right there because he's decided to be selfish this final night. He's not going to think about her at all, neither about Henry or Dev Patel. Not even about the potential, this night has to ruin their friendship.

In the morning, when he flies back to London, everything will go back to normal anyway.

Y/N is already in bed when George emerges from the in-suite bathroom. She props himself up on her elbows when he shuts the bathroom door. Then she smiles, and she pats the space beside her, just like a friend would. It's the same side George had slept on when they'd taken that nap together.

"Did I wake you?" George asks, feeling warm and wistful.

"I wasn’t asleep" is Y/N's reply. "But I should be. Come on."

George feels the dip of the mattress under his backside. The linens guard fragrance of the detergent, and he senses the stillness of the air between his arm and Y/N's, under the covers, where they do not touch.

The girl turns over on her side. "We had a good time, didn't we?" Her breath fans over George's cheeks, toothpaste-fresh.  

"I had a blast." George stares at one of the switched-off ceiling lights. "I had so much fun working with you. And even when we weren't working," he adds in haste. "Every second of it."

Y/N is heavy-lidded, but not in a way that suggests lethargy. "The feeling," she says, "is mutual."

One, two, three, four, breathe. George tries to resist, tries to keep his head above water, but it's as if his body is on autopilot. He turns over on his side too, so he and Y/N can see each other's faces.

He lets the words breach his lips before he can change his mind. "Did Henry ever tell you how beautiful you are?"

It's enough to disrupt the assembly line of Y/N's slow, steady blinks. George loves the way her eyelids flutter, completely surprised. He files it away for the future when he can no longer see it up close.

Y/N's lips part. "Not recently."

"Take it from another man, then," he says with conviction. "You are beautiful."  

"You’re very handsome yourself," his companion mumbles.

George's heart pulses painfully. All right, George, it seems to chide. That's enough. That should be enough to last you.

It's like Y/N has read his mind: "We should get some sleep." She presses her lips together; they're moist at the centre from where she's darted out her tongue. "Early flight tomorrow."

"You're right," the boy agrees. And at that very moment, he feels impossibly reckless.

There's a surge of something potent behind his ribcage, and then he's leaning over and pecking Y/N's bottom lip —so softly, it could almost pass as innocent.

"Good night, Gorgeous," he whispers, bravado slipping a mile and minute. He doesn't look her in the eye. He only turns his body in the opposite direction and switches off the lamp on his nightstand.

The room falls dark.

When Y/N cautiously hooks an arm over his waist and keeps it there, it liquefies George's bones.

"Sweet dreams, Geo," she whispers into his nape. Her voice is defenceless, and it seems to suggest that Y/N isn't holding him to any promises. "Thank you for Mumbai," she tells him, and it breaks George's heart.

ɴᴇxᴛ ►

A/N: The next chapter is the last one, loves. xx 

[likesomekindofcheese]

The Songbird of Jamestown Ch.1 (Samuel Castell x fem! Reader)

4A/N: Here it is!!! I’m so excited and my inner history nerd is quaking! I was so inspired by reading @bluesfortheredj​ “A Beautiful Mistake” I began typing some hc’s and the HC's led to this...whoops! Here are a couple things before we delve in:

One, there are two versions. One with the reader and the other with an OC, so pick what you like! Shout out to dear @ramibaby for helping me with the crisis of which one!

And two, I took some liberties from the world of the show as a part of my research since I came across one article on women in Jamestown and was shook, to say the least. Sometimes history really is stranger than fiction! It also benefitted the story. I did my best to balance historical reality with what worked in this piece of fiction.

Three, full disclosure: I have not seen that much of Jamestown since access to that show is limited where I’m from. I’ve read a lot, read summaries about the episodes and characters. I’m not walking in blind. So if there is an inaccuracy in the characters or events or location, that is why.

Please Enjoy and any feedback is appreciated!

Word Count: 5,000+

“You’re the worst liar I’ve ever known, Y/N!”

“Am not, Alice!”

Alice burst into laughter as you playfully smacked her arm. It was an afternoon and you had been on the ship for a week. Though you entered that boat as strangers, there is a power in women to bond and join in such situations for people who open themselves up.

Alice was one of such people.

“It’s true! You can make no such face to hide what you feel and whenever you lie, you do all sorts of things!” she teased. 

You were both sitting on your own mattress, conversing with each other. Your legs were tucked beneath you and you shoved your bag to the side to make room.

Verity walked by, it was the afternoon and she had just awoken while most had been up for at least two hours. Her red hair was loose and tossed from sleep and her eyes still blinked with sand.

“Tis true, no resisting! You’re a terrible liar Y/N! You told me you were playing that story game with the others and you lost because everyone knew when it was a lie!” she spat.

You sighed with a slight shrug, brushing it off. 

“Well, I guess it is true, I cannot tell a lie since I’m not good at it” you confess.

Verity smirked a little and studied you both.

“It will do well for you to learn how to lie, it may save your skin!” she says with a wink. The thousands of life-saving lies she told in her life seemed to glint in her face as she walked away.

 Alice looked down, meekly.

“Well, I cannot lie with you…I’ve been thinking…about my betrothed today…” she confessed. “I was praying he would be a good man…” she added with a sheepish grin “ a pleasant looking one.”

“Me too!” a passerby commented, leaning forward to join.

Other heads of women popped around like the white heads of rabbits eyeing an unlocked vegetable garden. Some came here already engaged. Others did not and entered single. They were all chattering with nerves and sometimes optimism.

A new home was slowly approaching us.

It would just be a matter of arrival for our fates to be determined. And in a town overpopulated by men, marriage was almost certainly guaranteed. That as well as some land of one’s own and a place to stay. Almost unheard of in England.

In the little bed next to yours, there was a slight groaning and turning of a curly, yellow head of hair. Jocelyn got up, blinking sand from her eyes. She squinted and looked over the situation. Seeing it was light gossip, she turned away and began to stretch her arms and awaken.

“What about you, Y/N?” one woman with a pretty, round face and big brown eyes asked. She bit her lip a little mischievously. “Are you betrothed? I swear, unless you’re with Alice or Verity, you barely speak three words together!”

You feel your hands shake a bit, having to recall why you came. 

Fear squelched your insides. Images returned you tried to block. Your mother’s teary eyes. Her voice trying to reason with... the woman, your anger wiping her name from your memory. Mother was failing. Your father’s face would be as it always was- blank and far away at home. Unable to protect you from her. The woman’s voice was still bleeding inside you. It rang so loud across her manor that birds flocked away in a panicked caw in the distance.

“So, help me- you will be married! It is either Jamestown or my brother or forget my purse altogether! So make your choice!”

“What are you thinking, Y/N? We only wanted to know…I’m so sorry, I...” your asker trailed off while backing away slowly.

“I…I’d rather not talk about why. But…I’m not engaged. just hope I meet someone…I just hope you have a good man! Every one of you! You are all lucky to be engaged at all! I shall likely end up a spinster who sits at balls and just sings and plays pianoforte for entertainment!” you answer, crossing your arms.

“I’m not engaged!” said one voice, with a few echoing behind.

“Oh, Y/N, one man is bound to propose to you!” Alice added cheerfully. She leaned over and gave you a smile.

Another woman, heavy-set and with bits of black curls on her head, offered you a short embrace. They all knew you had pain inside you. On the first day of departure, you cried many tears. Your appetite was gone. You kept always to yourself, and they noticed. Until Alice and Verity began to talk to you. Then a shell inside you broke.

 A few more came to join in the embrace and encouragement.

“You at least can choose who to marry” the first woman comforted.

“Better a spinster than a miserable wife!” Verity quipped as she returned, checking her fingernails for dirt.

Jocelyn had finished dressing and passed by, ignoring everyone. She looked a little green and desperate for air.

“Jocelyn! Join us!” Alice invited cheerfully.

“I will in a minute,” she said, barely turning her head.

“We’re discussing our betrothals! You’re betrothed too, Jocelyn, aren’t you?” Alice asked.

“Yes. I even met him. Samuel Castell is his name.” she answered. She brushed a bit of dirt off of her skirt in disgust.

“You’re so lucky to know him!” you added.

Jocelyn only gave a small nod as confirmation of her luck and pranced upstairs. There was only so much you could do to befriend her.

Finding you were going to sleep next to each other the first day, Jocelyn looked over the simple cotton dress and the muddy shoes you wore and pursed her lips. Jocelyn never wanted to even make small talk about the weather. She even less rushed to your side when the melancholy of the start of your journey began either.

Other women flooded around, sharing stories and giggling or mourning about their upcoming marriages. Some swapped stories of their known intended, what crops they would grow on their promised bit of land, and others shook their heads with the uncertainty. Other subjects until it seemed there were at least eight conversations going on at once. They had forgotten their semi-empty bellies. The darkness. That they were all crowded together with barely a wink of privacy and had probably seen more of one member then they would have wished.

You only nodded and sat down, enjoying the entertainment of the chatter and the slow sway of the boat on the water.

Perhaps this new life would be better.

That night, you woke from your sleep slowly. It was still night and pitch black but a familiar sound caught you. It was crying. A voice crying in her bunk across from you.

You crawled up, taking wide steps to accommodate the rock of the ship and grateful for space. With your shift on, you seemed almost ghostly. You turned to the lump on the bed crying and tapped her shoulder.

“What is it?” you ask softly.

She turned around to face you. Almost too young to join the passage. She had large dark eyes, black hair, a soft, round nose, and a tiny mouth. She was tossing and turning and clenching her small fists.

“Are you alright?” you asked again

She began to cry a little. “I can’t sleep, I’m so worried. I miss my father…and I don’t know if I want to marry Henry. Most of all, I don’t want to go there, I’ll die!” She sniffled; her face was burying itself in the pillow.

“I feel the same as you sometimes” you confirm. You crawl on her mattress and sit on your knees as she gushes out the fears keeping her awake.

You mostly listened for a while, about her fears for the colony. About the lack of food, the harsh winters, rampant diseases, and the wild rumors of the Indian natives. You tried my best to talk and reason with her out of it. But it was real. The land was infertile. At some point, only 38 men were left. Bugs buzzed everywhere on that land carrying fevers.

This was all she knew about Jamestown. Some of these you knew already.

“But…we will make a home. Somehow. We will survive. We will find happiness in anything: a sunrise, a new baby, a kind word…anything. At least, that’s what I think when I worry about when that anchor drops” you assure.

“Thank you,” she said quietly. She raised her head and wiped a lock from her sniffling face.

You nodded. “Is there anything else I can do to help you?”

“Help me fall asleep? I haven’t slept since England.” She said. Observing the darkness under her eyes it was no exaggeration.

“How can I help you fall asleep?” you asked.

“I was just…remembering you saying you knew about music, I mean, I know you were joking but…you said you knew how to sing and… and…my mam would always sing me lullabies when I was little and…I was just missing her, so, could you sing one? Please?”

“I know a couple, yes,” you confirmed. 

You crawled off so she could lie back down on the bed and be tucked in. You gently held her hand and sang a lullaby as quiet as the waters and skies outside.

It was as if she was just a child again, with the promise of infinity and no worry other than being caught in some innocent mischief

You wandered back into bed quickly, afraid of a half-awake “shut up!” upon the hearing of your little cradlesong.

But they heard anyway.

And the reaction was quite the opposite.

“I think I heard you singing last night- do you know this one? I can’t remember the name though; I know the tune…” one tall woman suggested as soon as the sun was up.

You obliged, easily identifying it as an old drinking song.

Then came another asking for a song.

And another.

And another.

Soon some of the quieter duller hours on board were filled with that of women of every voice-high, low, in tune, out of tune, quiet, loud, knowing all the lyrics, knowing some, knowing none, all singing songs led sometimes by you.

Verity smiled as she listened to a rendition of Summer is a Comin’ in while leaning on the steps and peeling off a peel of an orange.

“She’s a little nightingale, that one!” she said with a point at you. “You should charge a few pence a song and soon you’ll be wealthy enough to buy England itself!”

You smiled shyly at the compliment.

But weeks later, the nerves and fears had won once again. The night was darker. Lightning sometimes flashed through the holes on the ship. It rocked violently. No one could stand without falling. Rain poured down on the deck, dripping generously on our heads. The lanterns we set up to see around your part of the deck in the evening were shaking. Some nervous hands and arms fled up to hold them still as not to risk a fire. Thunder and panicked voices surrounded your eardrums. No matter how hard you tried, sleep refused to come.

The women were crying and groaning with their fear. Alice calmly got up and reasoned with each one. Your own throat felt exhausted from all the singing you had done today. If someone asked you for a soothing ballad or ironic shanty, you knew you had to say no. You hoped no one would ask you, even if it would help.

Oh Alice, you dear saint, how I wish I was more like you.

You investigated your bag near your side and got out an old copy of your dear Dante’s Inferno.  If you hid under the blankets, you couldn’t be bothered out of your book.

Now you were alone with the warm blanket and your old poetry. Anything to waste away the long hours and plant a little bit of England in Virginia. Even the few books you snuck in your bag felt like warriors by your constant defense on this journey.

Perhaps later, in the morning, I can sneak on the dock and read it with the sunrise- it’ll be pretty. And no one will interrupt me. Maybe I’ll even find some dried fruit and sneak some bites.

As you reached the section of the seventh circle and the reveal of the punishment of the murderers in hell, you heard Alice whispering to everyone. Her voice was getting closer. Alice’s footsteps reached Jocelyn’s bunk.

You barely listened to what they said, but then a confession caught your ears that you couldn’t ignore, not even with Dante’s adventures.

Jocelyn told Alice she murdered someone.

You began to cover your hand with your mouth to keep yourself from being given away.

She explained it all. It felt like a dream. You kept pinching myself to be sure you were hearing this.

It was a man. He had promised her marriage. She had given herself over to him. But he was promised to someone else. So, he died over a cup of poisoned wine and Jocelyn’s triumphant face.

You almost believed it was a story, but Jocelyn seemed so earnest. So, despite her station and situation, she could be convicted. And that was why she was here.

You knew on thing as Alice walked away. Such information had to remain private.

After all, you felt pity for Jocelyn. She was just an innocent. Seduced. Betrayed. The image of her crying in a cold jail cell won over any bitterness you had felt by her snobbery. Even if she wasn’t pregnant now, she was a woman ruined. Unwanted. Stained forever for one mistake.

As you turned over, nearly drifting to sleep, your mind kept asking you once I was on the edge of dreaming…

Would I do the same if I was in her position?

You dreamt of minotaurs and rivers of blood. Waking up, you were half in the dream. You thought you saw a minotaur chasing you, ready to tear you to bits and drag you to hell...or was it, Jocelyn, chasing you? You didn’t know

You rushed out, clutching your book to the upper deck…and the sun was rising. It was as beautiful as Paradise as you had imagined. You almost sobbed from relief, waking slowly to light and water.

Early mornings were heaven for solitude. 

It became a secret ritual to awake early and crawl up there. Barely anyone was on deck. No more crowding. No more forced conversation or deep smells of bodies compacted together. You kept doing it until your body was naturally used to waking up when the sky was still in its pink-orange glow. Peace came at a small cost.

You crawled up there to read and breathe silently for weeks. It was too delicious.

The advantage of a ship like this was that everyone was left to their own schedule and no one was forced to get up before they wanted.

This morning it seemed as if all of the lower deck was snoring like old dogs. You crept out of bed, donned your petticoat, skirt, and stays folded by the corner of the bed as usual. You took your hair and crumpled it to your head to tie it under your cap. Barefoot, you crept over the wooden floors and quietly up the stairs. You opened the door a sliver so you could wiggle through with as little light revealed as possible.

This morning, the wind felt especially cold and sweet. The night had felt so stuffy you realized how refreshing it was. There seemed to be much less crew on board than usual. Even when men wandered around to their chores, they ignored you or gave you a curious glance before hurrying away.

You smiled and nearly went dizzy again from the blissful eternity of that pink sky.

The wind blew more. Kissing your face and making your skirt fly up like wings. Impulsively, you untied your cap and released your hair to the wind. You breathed in the air and listened to the waves of the sea as if for the first time. You felt the wind rustle against every bit of me, as if I was among the sky, flying.

There was no crying. There was no illness. There was no end. There was certainly no Jamestown. Only life, freedom, and beauty everywhere.

You felt your hair whipping around in the wind. Without a cap, it felt bigger and longer then it really was. It was always up, proper, and hidden. And now it was free. It changed direction with the wind.

The sea whooshed calmly. You walked over and truly smelt the salt, cleansing the palate of everything inside. Everything was perfect for just a second.  

A rough voice rang out from high above.

“Land ho! Land hoooooooooo!”

You shot my head up to see a short, large sailor yelling and pointing to the west with fervor.

Had I heard it right?

You dashed up to his side and felt your stomach drop

Yes, he was right. A green patch of land was pulling up, slowly, but surely. Following above it a blanket of grey clouds. The wind was pushing it closer and closer.

The journey was done.

The words of land ho echoed everywhere. It seemed as if it was like church bells on Easter until it was the only words yelling in everyone’s ears.

Women charged from below to see the first patch of land in ages. You darted back as they gasped, cheered, shrieked and repeated the news, everyone stretched their necks and stood on their toes just to see that green. Jocelyn rushed to you and looked ahead as well, squinting in the distance, albeit, with less outward enthusiasm than the others.

Then she looked at you with your free hair.

“Are you a lady or not?” she oozed.

“Why, yes, any woman with dignity can be a lady, no matter where they’re from” you answered. You felt your stomach cave in with regret at the last dart at her.

“Well, Ladies keep their hair up. You’ll want to put your hair up! You might meet your husband in a matter of minutes, do you want the men to think something lewder of you? Especially without stockings” she spat. She turned her face to the land with barely a twitch.

You blinked away a couple tears. It was no use crying. Or fighting. At least you could fantasize a little about pushing her down to the sharks.

You retreated down to put it up again and don stockings and shoes. The clouds were already covering half the sky by the time you went back up. Windiness made them rush.

Maybe she was right, after all. Being among the number of women not engaged, maybe a few bachelors would arrive to preview what was still available. You kept checking your dress to make sure you seemed a little presentable.

The hours of preparing and getting ready for the landing flew by, almost dizzyingly. Alice was brushing her hair for the two hundredth stroke when you realized how pale she seemed despite her lovely, pink smile.

“I can’t believe it! In a few days, I’ll be married! But what if…what if…oh, I’m so nervous!” she whimpered.

You walked over and took the brush from her. You offered a few gentle strokes and barely touched her outer coat.

“It’s normal for one to fret so much, Alice! If it brings you peace, you may always look for me if you don’t like him! We’ll be bitties who complain together!” you promised.

She turned around and nodded her head, giggling a little at “bitties” and offered a thank you a hundred times.

The ship had reached the dock and we went up to the upper deck. The women about to be engaged had put on what second-best they could bring- the best of their clothes had to be for the wedding. Each one was fussing about hats, what had or hadn’t been spoiled or crumpled, which color looked the best, and “Charity you best return that socking at once or I swear!”

Save Verity among the future brides of course. She never truly cared, and she said her husband would have to put up with what he saw.

You ran up to the upper deck and gathered in lines, the ships tallness blocking our view of the people below. Many began to grumble with disappointment at the first peek of the new land (and the new people more so). The captain explained how it would go while stroking his beard in amusement at the tension. You would be announced as you walked out of the ship so that any future husbands could see his bride and escort her to the colony.

You put yourself quite close, as to be with Alice. She was still smiling yet her hands were shaking, and you realized so were yours. You clutched hands with her for comfort. And she for yours.

You waited and listened to each name, still holding tightly. Only when she edged forward in front of you, almost to that precipice, did she release her palms.

Alice’s name was yelped up. She walked up the board and down into the land. You tried to poke your head around for a glimpse at this mystery fiancée, but the boat’s tall sides blocked the view yet again, even with a different angle.

You pulled out, on instinct, the old copy of Ovid that was poking out of your bag. Maybe you shouldn’t have packed so much. It felt like it was Alice’s hand to squeeze onto.

The man called out your name and you slowly started the walk.

Your shaky legs were not assisted with the height of the board. The first sight was disappointing at first- the sky was grey dampening any thrilling brightness Virginia could offer and there was only the stony shore itself and the crowd staring. The air was warm and humid here. You could still smell and hear the sea. Fear overwhelmed you at first and you put your eyes down to your black shoes poking out of your blue skirt. It was embarrassing to have one’s first few steps analyzed so.

“Get on, girl! We have more waiting behind you!” the man hissed.

As you walked closer to the end, you decided you would look at the strangers back. The crowd was plenty. Two people caught your eye-There was one very tall man and a very small man. You saw the tall man pointing at you and whispering. The small man looked back with wide eyes.

As you reached land, your feet nearly tripped. It was the first still land you saw in months. You felt a little sick and boldly looked into the eyes of the small man.

Was it a man?

If so, he was dressed in a red dress, cape, apron, and bonnet.

What kind of town is this?

But as you walked more on the scratchy land, belly settling, you saw closer the eyes and soft features, the constant whispers from the smaller person signaled a high-pitched voice, and what shape it had showed hints of feminine curves.

It was a woman. And no one you recognized on the boat. Perhaps it was a couple looking for their servant on board. Several women mentioned being bought as maids for cooking and cleaning.

There was already one woman here!

She caught you staring and glanced down a little. Both of you were the color of a cherry.

Shyly walking up to her, you gave her a rushed apology “I’m so sorry mistress! I was just so surprised to see another woman here already, forgive my rudeness!”

“You hear that, Master Castell! She called me Mistress!” she squeaked excitedly.

Master?

But looking at her closely again, you noticed the difference in her clothes with that of the man. He had fine yellow cloths adorning his body, a warm cloak, a clean face, and shining shoes. The girl (for indeed she seemed several years younger than you) had a simple red cotton dress and a slightly faded white bonnet.

The man looked down on you and felt a sudden urge to run back on the boat and cover your head in the pillow with embarrassment. He had eyes the color of the ocean, a brown hair and beard, high cheekbones and the kindest of faces.

“Mercy here is my servant. She is not used to such words, so she is very flattered. No need to fret yourself.” he explained softly.

He offered a gallant bow and you gave a slight curtsy in return.

“I am Samuel Castell, company recorder. Welcome to Jamestown, your new home” he welcomed. 

He almost seemed to beam looking at you. None of the strangers here gave you as much as a glance once you were on land with another behind you.

You replied with your name.

“Miss, you must forgive my rudeness. I noticed the book in your arms, and I was excited- there aren’t too many readers in the colony. Not too many are able to and even less have the leisure” he said, eyeing down in small looks as to not seem obscene nor uninterested.

You glanced down to see the way you had clenched the book to your chest.

“Why, yes! I had to bring a few books along. It was a long journey and a home is not a home without a few books for me.” You explained.

You handed the book to him and he took it, examining it with Mercy peeping over his arm. Despite her dark brown bangs nearly covering her round face, her eyes were the size of saucers looking at it too.

You felt suddenly afraid and warm. Every move you made and every word you spoke would make an impression but…why am I suddenly so afraid in the presence of this man? He’s perfectly courteous.

Being stunningly handsome doesn’t hurt either.

“Is that…. the Metamorphoses by Ovid!” he exclaimed while turning to the first page.

“It is, Master Castell” you answered, the name feeling fresh on your mouth, and a little too bold.

His eyes nearly popped out of their sockets as it poured over the contents and flipped more through the brown pages.

“Master Castell’s home is full of books! He reads all day in what free time he has!” Mercy added.

She blushed a little and curtsied. “Oh! I’m sorry, you must forgive me this time! I…I get excited too easily and won’t hold my tongue and even sometimes...”

I shook your head and held up your hands soothingly. “It’s alright. You committed no crime, sweet Mercy.”

Samuel kept glancing between you and the pages. He then handed it to Mercy to look and then back to himself.

“I love the classics but, I never had the chance to read Ovid’s work before!” he said with the most glowing grin. He touched the lettering delicately, scanning the pages for hints of future adventures with nymphs, gods, kings, and heroes.

Samuel Castell, what a good man. Yet… I thought…why on Earth does his name sound familiar? I know I must have heard it, and recently. But…where?

“It’s very good, if not a little disturbing in some parts- It’s the only…” you trailed off with the loud announcement of the next name.

“Miss Jocelyn Woodbyrg!”

Mercy had pulled her master’s cape a little to alert him of something. He jerked up from the book and gently returned it to you with a small “pardon”.

“It’s her! My mistress!” Mercy cooed.

Oh.

You walked away from the crowd a little to make room for them hurrying forward. Jocelyn strutted over like an actress making a grandiose entrance. In her golden clothes, she seemed to outshine the grey air surrounding everyone. Her hat made her look tall and majestic and her dark cape swished as if she could choose to soar above any moment. Her skirt was adorned, and her hair was up in a bun, yet still loose to prove she had golden curls that framed her ivory, unblemished face and pristine features. Her golden dress was adorned almost indulgently and stayed tight enough to show her slim frame.

Samuel’s eyes gleamed and his smile reached its peak, never stopping after their introductions, bows, and even the sweetest kiss bestowed on her hand. The sickness hit your insides again.

They walked away arm in arm, Jocelyn’s chin high in the air. Her hand wrapped around his slowly clenching on like that of a Venus flytraps mouth closing around a fly. You almost felt the bag in your left arm drop to the ground had you not gripped it tightly.

Mercy stopped shortly by, giddy with excitement.

“Do see me sometime, Miss. It’s fun to be called Mistress! How kind you are! Oh! And! And my new mistress-I’ve never had a mistress! I’m so excited!” she cried almost in one breath.

“Mercy, you may get lost! But thank you!” you threw in, pointing to where they were walking.

She added “I swear! She’s the most beautiful woman here!” before jogging up to meet the stride of her master and his fiancée.

There were plenty of people left, but many had walked off to see the colony looming in the distance like a brown castle beyond.

But Mercy’s voice still rang in your ears.

“She’s the most beautiful woman here!”

You wandered up to the sea, lying to yourself I’m going to splash my face with water.

You crouched on the stones, the tiny waves barely touching your toes and looked down at your face. You got back up to study the rest of your body.

There were plenty of other men, it was almost completely men here. Your time will come soon. Besides, you fool, you just met him! You’re lucky to not marry a man you just met!

He’s the most wonderful man I ever met, though.

Tears were your first act on the new land, plopping silently to the sea. This time, they were seen by no one.

You’re nothing next to her. No wonder Samuel’s so happy to marry her.

(Edited, bc y’all jumped on) Taglist: @isitstraightvodka @itsametaphorgwil @itscale @coincidence-ithinknots-blog @rhapsodyrecs @stardust-killer-queen @grigorlee @queenlover05

[missroserose]

coronavirus meme

Cross-posted from Dreamwidth.  Feel free to answer the questions yourself!  I’d love to hear how you’re doing, and what better time to make something go viral...?

1. Are you an essential worker? Nope.  I have Opinions on who is and isn't classified as essential and how much they're (not) being compensated for their risks, but ultimately there's not much I can do about that, other than tip generously when I do things like order delivery.  Regardless, massage is pretty low on the list of essential services, so I was laid off two weeks into quarantine. 2. How many drinks have you had since the quarantine started? Recently a friend asked what I'd been doing to cope, and the snarky-but-uncomfortably-truthful answer that immediately came to mind was "drinking".  So I'll let y'all draw your own conclusions. 3. If you have kids, are they driving you nuts? No kids.   4. What new hobby have you taken up during this? Other than curling in an anxiety ball and constantly refreshing news and social media?  Um.  Well, I saw a post on Pillowfort about a local papercrafting store that was doing $50 grab bag orders where they'd stuff a box full of supplies and send them to you.  Figuring now might not be a bad time to get back into papercrafting, I went ahead and ordered one; it came with a rather nice A5-size planner and a number of stickers/inserts/what have you.  I've started browsing through the Instagram planner community and am working on a plan (hah!) to start my own account/YouTube channel...I figure, since creative work is all I can really do right now and my biggest trouble with consistently finishing creative work is the lack of structure, maybe this'll help me get my butt in gear?  Or it'll become another project that disappears off the radar.  But hey, at least it'll give me something to focus on in the interim. I'm pinkpunkplanner on Instagram, if anyone wants to follow along. I've also been cooking more.  It's never been my favorite hobby but it's become weirdly calming. 5. How many grocery runs have you done? Two.  So far we've stuck entirely to Trader Joe's, since that's where our cat food comes from and we've been able to get everything else we need there.  I suspect a Costco trip is upcoming, however. 6. What are you spending your stimulus check on? Already dumped it onto our credit card, where it nicely made up for my lost income this month.  We'll see if the Illinois unemployment office ever gets back to me about my claim. 7. Do you have any special occasions that you will miss during this quarantine? Nothing that immediately comes to mind, so long as my family all stays healthy.  I'm going to be rather upset if my mother or grandmother fall sick, though, given that I skipped visiting Alaska last year for financial/time reasons and indeed had plans to visit in April but...well. 8. Are you keeping your housework done? Ish? Enough to be functional, nowhere near what my mother would approve of. 9. What movie have you watched during this quarantine? Several, in fact.  I saw The Birdcage and Her for the first time, both of which I suspect are going to become favorites.  Jojo Rabbit I was slightly disappointed by; it was cute but didn't feel quite as narratively coherent as some of Waititi's other work.  The new version of Emma was absolutely sumptuous.  Brian and KC suggested your name. one night, which was stunningly beautiful.  I've watched both Ladyhawke and Portrait of a Lady on Fire with friends via voice chat; the former is a perennial favorite and the latter also beautiful in a very minimalist way.  Probably some others I've forgotten. 10. What are you streaming with? iTunes, Netflix, and Hulu, possibly with a little Amazon Prime and Crunchyroll mixed in. 11. 9 months from now is there any chance of you having a baby? A miniscule one, I suppose. 12. What's your go-to quarantine meal? I've made this roasted-root-vegetables-and-chickpeas dish a few times.  If you don't have a NYT subscription, it's really simple:  Take a pound and a half of root vegetables (I use sweet potatoes and carrots), chop into pieces of roughly equal thickness, pour onto a sheet pan, season with salt, pepper, thyme if you have it, add enough olive oil to coat generously.  Stir together.  Roast for 30 minutes at 350.  While they roast, open a can of chickpeas, drain and rinse, toss with olive oil and whatever spice mixture that you've had sitting in the back of the cupboard intending to use (I have an Indian-flavored one that's been excellent).  Add to the pan with the vegetables, give everything a stir, raise oven temperature to 425 and roast another 15 minutes.  Mix together some yogurt (2/3 cup seems about right), salt, fresh garlic, and any seasonings you feel like adding; when the vegetables come out, serve them in dishes with yogurt sauce dolloped on top.  Delicious, warm, filling, and reasonably healthy. 13. Is this whole situation making you paranoid? The problem with not knowing the extent of the threat is that we can't really know the line where anxiety becomes paranoia.  This may be directly contributing to my current mental health state. 14. Has your internet gone out on you during this time? No, thankfully.  RCN's been sending out regular updates about the upgrades they've been implementing, and I've seen solid evidence (trucks with workers, improved physical infrastructure) that this is the case.  One building down the street from us has two junction boxes, one labeled "RCN" and the other "Comcast".  The RCN one is neatly wired with everything aligned and secured and all superfluous cabling removed.  The Comcast one...well, I'll let Adam speak for me on that one. 15. What month do you predict this all ends? See above re: uncertainty.  One of the things giving me anxiety is the sheer fucking hubris of the people in power making noises about "acceptable losses" in reopening the economy before we have anything like a robust testing/contact tracing/protection system in place.  Does the economy exist to serve humanity, or do humans exist to be ground up in the machine of economic progress?  I suspect we're quickly learning where the bulk of the USA lands on that spectrum. 16. First thing you’re gonna do when you get off quarantine? It probably says a lot about my current mental state that I can't really picture it.  But "make arrangements to go visit my family" is likely high on the list.  "Spend some quality time with my boyfriend" is also up there, assuming we're still together. 17. Where do you wish you were right now? Somewhere in 2021 or 2022, so I could get the uncertainty out of the way, take stock of the situation, begin the grieving process, and work on putting my new life together. 18. What free-from-quarantine activity are you missing the most? Looking at other people as potential friends and loved ones instead of potential vectors. 19. Have you run out of toilet paper and hand sanitizer? Funny story—I signed up for a subscription about a year and a half ago from Who Gives A Crap, and in order to get the best price I just got the largest (48-roll) box and, when they email me about the next installment, I delay until we need it.  So our latest box came in...at the start of March. As for hand sanitizer, I barely use it (I prefer hand washing, it's less drying if you have good soap), so the stuff we have will probably last for months. 20. Do you have enough food to last a month? Probably, although the cats would be pretty skinny.

[onestowatch]

Blood Cultures Deals With Identity in ‘Broadcasting’ [Q&A]

To say the least, Blood Cultures has quite a unique look. Trust me, you’ve never seen a band like this one. The east coast psych-pop outfit is a an act you need to know. 

So, who are these mystery men? Slipping onto the scene in 2017 with their cult-favorite debut project Happy Birthday, Blood Cultures became an underground success slowly bubbling to the surface with genre-bending gems like “No Favors” and “Best For You.” This fall the secretive artists returned with their album Oh Uncertainty! A Universe Despairs. 

Now, the enigmatic group has unveiled the stunning Saleem Barbados–directed video “Broadcasting,” the second single from Oh Uncertainty! A Universe Despairs. "Broadcasting” is a bright and beautiful blend of cultures, wandering vocals, and electronic beats. 

In the accompanying visual, performer and choreographer Anjali Mehta dances in the traditional Indian style of Bharatanatyam. It’s an emotional dance that embodies the push and pull between identities. Everything from her vivid clothing, the Brooklyn backdrop, and her dynamic movements cater to the juxtaposition and contrast the song so beautifully expresses. As “Broadcasting” progresses, Mehta’s behaviors become more Western. She watches TV, unsatisfied. There’s something in her eyes, a disconnect between herself and her world. Blood Cultures spoke on the video’s inspiration, sharing

​​​​​​​"I was raised in New Jersey, after my parents immigrated from Pakistan. The struggle for identity is almost a guarantee for any first-generation-american, but when we present those struggles with pride, it becomes a lot easier to see that we're not alone in facing them... The video's purpose is not to bring answers, but bring forth the question of identity itself - a common theme throughout the record."

We got a chance to chat with Blood Cultures to get to know the men behind the masks a bit better.

Ones To Watch: Where did the idea for Blood Cultures come from? 

Blood Cultures: I didn’t want the music to be centered around me or my story. The themes of the music were so personal and weren’t things I was comfortable talking about other than in the music. The idea of anonymity and creating a character allowed me to be free and expressive without worrying about my own ego and identity. When I closed my eyes and listened to the music, it’s what I saw. I didn’t see myself. I saw Blood Cultures.

What’s it mean to you to be an anonymous artist in this era where social media and “creeping culture” rule supreme? Does it change how you and your fans connect?

Honestly, I don’t really think of us as any more anonymous than our counterparts. I think social media is all about putting on a show, a filter, a facade. What we do is no different than anyone else, we just get to keep ourselves to ourselves. I think personality is something that is quickly becoming commodified, and that’s nothing we’re interested in. Our prime goal is to have our audience connect with us on a more personal level by not revealing our stories as to keep the relationship between the listener and the music as pure as possible. Their reactions are only theirs not based on our influence or the story we create around it.

Your band name as well as your song “Phospholipid,” hint at a biological undertone. Was that on purpose or just a fluke?

It was very much purposeful. Phospholipids let things in and out of a cell as a form of protection.

Is there an overarching message you wanted to get across to people with Oh Uncertainty! A Universe Despairs?

I view the album as an internal conversation between two sides of the same whole. I’d like people to think about the album as a personal journey of self-discovery. I hope it helps them on their own journey and realize that they are not alone in the universe. We’re in this together. 

Tell me a bit more about “Broadcasting.” And could you break down the story behind these lyrics in the outro? “I'll tell you something I can't even admit to myself / When I was young, I hoped to grow to be somebody else / And now I stand here to confess to all the things I've done / Nothing left to do and nowhere else that I could run?” 

A core value of the project, we really try to avoid context in hopes that listeners create a more genuine connection to the music itself. There’s not much to be said without spoiling its meaning, but what I can say is that it was inspired by media and the effect it has on identity, including cultural identity. More specifically, it was inspired by Howard Beale from the film, Network. The idea of suicide on live television. Becoming part of the thing that created you, and now choosing what you want to share in that same medium even if it means destroying it (or yourself).

Who or what are some of your musical inspirations? Be them people, places, or ideas?

I think listening to music is a lot like a magic trick. Once you know how it’s done, that innocent sense of wonder is extinguished. If we broke down the influences and the why of everything, it would just be math, cold and mechanical. Music is that unquantifiable consciousness in the meat puppet.

What’s your own personal favorite set of lyrics of all time?

“This body holding me reminds me of my own mortality / Embrace this moment, remember / We are eternal, all this pain is an illusion.” - Tool, ‘Parabola’

Congrats, of course on the headlining tour! What can fans expect from your shows?

Thank you. The live versions of all the songs are all intentionally a bit different in terms of energy and vibe. If you look at the way things used to be, a band would write a song together, record it, and then re-perform it live. We had the difficult task of recreating something that never really existed in the real world. A problem faced by many modern artists, I’m sure. So we just didn’t. We sort of made it something new, which feels more genuine and true to us as a collective.

Besides performing what gives you your biggest adrenaline rush?

Using the bathroom and not washing your hands. Such a (literal) dirty secret 😉 

Who are your Ones To Watch?

Lily and Horn Horse, French Vanilla, Girl Band, O.T. Genasis, William Joel.

[amitds]

Sasusaku Month

Day 21

Prompt: Cloaks

Summary: Sasuke is a vampire from a noble clan while Sakura is a powerful witch. The two cloaked creatures of the night are in a taboo romance and they soon realise that their love comes with consequences. 

Notes: Idk... the prompt ‘cloaks’ just made me think of Halloween. I also prefer writing an AU as opposed to inserting my own filler in Kishi’s story. Btw ‘kohl’ is an Indian eye liner like thing that we use to ward off the evil eye and it also is supposed to improve sight. I thought it would be cool for a witch to have it.  I also added some of my ‘Indian culture’ by using a bindi as opposed to the yin seal and my Caribbean culture by using plants/plant names we use here in Trinidad. I think people might think this is more Sakura than SS but my vision demands this. Oh btw ITALICS ALONE are thoughts and “ITALICS WITH QUOTATION MARKS” are statements. 

THIS IS SUPER LATE. SORRY

 :’( 

I know you’ll forgive me because... because I’m beautiful.

 ; )

“I wonder why Sasuke wanted to see me so suddenly,” Sakura whispered to herself as she sailed across the moonlit sky. Sakura, perched elegantly on her besom broom, couldn’t help but feel a sense of foreboding chilling her bones as she flew over Konoha City. Her only company on this cold night was her tiny slug familiar, Katsuyu, seated at the tip of the broom. “I hope nothing is wrong, Katsuyu,” Sakura continued as she anxiously awaited the meeting with her lover. 

Sasuke and Sakura have only been dating for three months but needless to say they were in love. Sakura could feel it. She didn’t care if he was a vampire, the sworn enemy of her race and neither did he. To Sakura, he was just Sasuke and she was just Sakura. Of course they fought when they discovered each other’s identity but after occasionally meeting and fighting at a stalemate for months, the two students at Senju University decided to call a truce. From their enmity was born friendship and from this friendship love had blossomed. Sakura was always attracted to the young Uchiha, even before knowing that he was a creature of the night and she had always caught his attention. Now, three months into their love, Sakura could feel a murky cloud looming over her happiness. 

Mokuton Park was deadened by loneliness at this hour. The only signs of life, the croaking of frogs and the stridulating of crickets. Seated on the fine teak park bench among the freshly manicured grass and shrubbery was Sakura, now sheltered by drapes of African tulip, myrtle and pink and red poui trees which dotted the park.  Draped in her ivory satin cloak dotted with fuchsia satin stitched sakura blossoms, her protection; the symbol of her covenant with nature, life and her mastery of the pure arts, the young ‘white witch’ seemed out of place in this dreary setting. As usual for her journeys in the night, Sakura was in full witch garb: her characteristic hooded cloak was married with her rose gold chain waist belt, bone white thigh highs guarded her legs and rose quartz crystals, for success in love, dangled gracefully from each ear. Kohl lined her eyes, enhancing her vision while warding off whatever evil could come her way, and an amethyst rhombus, her bindi, adorned her forehead, for strength in concentration and retention of her magical energies. 

Sasuke kun, please come quickly! 

“Sasuke kun you’re here!” she joyously exclaimed, as the vampire arrived moments later, bringing with him an icy night wind which danced through the surrounding, formerly silent, trees. “Hmm.”

 Sakura could see it as the young man emerged from the refuge of the shadows. Something was awry; Sasuke was not himself. As he strode towards the witch, the ice and uncertainty deepened, nearly devouring Sakura herself.  Sasuke Uchiha, one of the sons of the famed noble vampire clan, The Uchiha Clan, was extraordinarily handsome. No human could compare and no man could radiate the level of power, class, and allure as an Uchiha, as Sasuke Uchiha. His spiky black hair looked at home in the darkness of the night, tinted slightly by shades of blue formed by the moon’s light. As customary for men of the Uchiha Clan, he traveled the night wrapped in an onyx brocade cloak, decorated with hand stitched ‘uchiwa’ fans of an even darker hue. Covered by his majestic charcoal cloak were deep crimson rubies, an heirloom of the Uchiha and his protection from the sun, draped around his neck, resting on his pearly Japanese silk shirt. The cloak, as with the witches, was a symbol of his supernatural origins and power. It was an article of protection and as an Uchiha, a symbol of his kingship. Now, standing before her, Sasuke’s expression stiffened even further. Gloom covered his handsome features and arresting allure.

“Sakura... it’s over.” 

Three words... three words were all it took that night. The white witch of the illustrious Shikkotsu Coven was silenced by these three simple words. Sakura now felt as if the night wind entered her body and chilled her from the inside out. She didn’t know what to think. For the first time the fiery, passionate witch was mute. Sasuke had enough power over her as the man she loved, as the man she loves to do this much. How could Sasuke do this? Were these past three months nothing? Was she wrong in believing that this man loved her as she loved him? No, she felt it. She felt their connection. What did she do?  All these dark thoughts jammed her mind and for moments she couldn’t speak. 

After what seemed like an eternity Sakura, tears flowing down her face,managed to force out a response past the lump in her throat, a response to the straight faced Uchiha who impassively stood before her. Sasuke’s face was rigid and radiated nothing.. almost. 

“Sasuke, what are you saying?” she finally spoke. “You can’t mean... what’s with this all of a sudden?” She went on, “ Why won’t you tell me anything? I know that you love me. I felt it. I still feel it.” Desperation laced her voice. 

“I’m not like you.” The stone face vampire retorted. “I walk a different path. I am a vampire of the noblest clan and you’re a witch. We cannot be together. I realise that now.” Sakura’s heart sank. She couldn’t believe the words leaving those lips. Those lips that once kissed her with such fire and passion. Those same lips that promised to love her forever, for their entire immortal lives. Sasuke was breaking his promise now... and for what? Since when did he care about what others thought? Since when did that clan politics and the feud between their people interest him? 

“ I am not like you. I walk a different path...” 

“Sasuke...” Sakura interrupted, her voice spiked with her usual passion and surety. “I know the deal with your clan, with our clans. Stop it.” 

Sakura could see. Behind his stoic facade Sakura could see the chinks in his armor, the deception in his deep onyx eyes. “You’re lying. What’s the real reason for all of this?” On this utterance Sakura could have sworn that Sasuke mildly shuddered. 

“Sasuke if I still hold a place in your heart... if you really love me...” she continued now boldly advancing to Sasuke, her resonant green eyes staring into the charcoal of his own. “Look me in the eye and tell me that you don’t love me. Tell me that you lied and that we shared nothing. Sasuke tell me it’s really over...”

“I don’t love you. I never have. It is over.” Sasuke solemnly and calmly announced as he trekked towards the shadows once more.

“Sasuke...” was all Sakura could manage.

“You’re annoying...”

With that the Uchiha briskly turned, his eyes, now vibrant scarlet eyes, set ablaze with compulsion, the power of the vampire. That was all it took as Sakura was spelled into a lull of sleep. Such a hypnotic suggestion would normally fail on a witch of Sakura’s strength but the shock of this night and her heartbreak weakened her.  Her last memory, at least she thought it was, was of someone gently holding her from behind, whispering ‘thank you’.

It was now over. After months of building a relationship with Sasuke, after months of nurturing this love, and them sharing their lives this was the end. Sakura, rose quartz adorning her ears, lay vulnerable, her fragile arm delicately resting across her heart, now without her love.

“Sasuke!!” Sakura exclaimed as she roused from her slumber on the park bench. Sasuke vanished. According to her watch she’d been asleep for about fifteen minutes. “He’s gone...” she sighed to Katsuyu. The familiar was her only company. “Sasuke wasn’t telling the truth, I know it. I know something is amiss. But what can I do? I can’t force him back to me.” 

Defeated and mentally and emotionally drained, Sakura held her face in her palms, now catching tears and she cried on her bench with Katsuyu snuggling her from her lap while a new gale of ice and cold whipped the night. Something untoward approached Sakura felt, her face still buried within her palms. Even stricken with grief, her senses ached. Moments later her doubts were cleared. 

What’s that?! 

Moments later Sakura’s thoughts were now concentrated on the mysterious power she felt emanating from beyond her. A flood of dark power was drowning her spirit now. The frosty night wind howled unnaturally through the trees, tearing off leaves of myrtle and poui flowers and raining them down upon her. Something evil was here, of this she was sure. 

“Who’s there?!” the witch demanded, her kohl lined eyes focusing at her anterior. 

“Ha, poor little white witch, all alone...” a strange voice snickered moments later, sending ice down Sakura’s spine. “Want us to keep you company?” the voice continued, each word dripping with malice. 

On this Sakura stood up, her hand gripping her broom with Katsuyu on her shoulder hissing at the unseen enemy. The witch was ready. No sooner than she arose, figures shimmered into the silvery moonlight that lit the park. 

Vampires. 

“What the?...” Sakura blurted seconds later while the undead predators took form before her. Six stood before her, each donning gloomy black cloaks stippled with blood red clouds. “The Akatsuki...” she realised. The ironically named personal mercenaries of the esteemed Uchiha Clan, elite warriors serving vampire royalty. They stood before her, each radiating torrents of miasma, of darkness and of hate. Such imposing figures. No one had ever seen them and escaped their hunt and now the majority of their ten man squad was here for Sakura. 

Had they known about her meeting with Sasuke? No way. Uchiha Clan vampires avoided this less populated area in their feedings. Sasuke ensured it and despite his words, Sasuke would never hurt her. Of this she was certain. Had they been tracking Sasuke? And if so, on whose orders? Alas, Sakura’s busy mind hadn’t the time to continue dwelling on the reason behind this attack as the predators, at home in the darkness of night, stood before her, aching to feed. Maybe a binding spe...

“Arrgh!”

Before Sakura would complete her thought process, one of the vampires, the red haired Sasori as she heard another call him, pounced in a blur of crimson fury and sent her hurling towards the teak bench. 

“Ugh!” she winced as all of the vampire’s weight and force crashed into her slim frame.The Akatsuki were surely not your run of the mill vampires, the witch discovered. He’s almost as strong as Sasuke! Had she not in the last minute imbued some of her magic into her now steel-like cloak she would have no doubt been dead already. Still, Sakura was in danger. Sasori snapped his jaws at her, intimidating her as he readied himself for his prey. Now her only protection was her broom, cracking, guarding her from the creature’s maw. 

Sakura was stuck and she was overpowered with Sasori’s acute curved fangs reaching for her frail neck. Sakura had no time to invoke any enchantment potent enough to save herself and Katsuyu couldn’t do anything. Is this the end?Fear and desperation lined her spirit while Sasori’s fangs were tasting her milky white skin. The others, she glanced, didn’t join Sasori and seemed to prefer to look on in sick amusement. Vampires of such power and in such numbers obviously didn’t think much of her, even if she was a witch of the Shikkotsu, Sakura concluded. Even in such a predicament the proud witch could feel a glimmer vexation on witnessing this. How dare they?

 “Get off!” she threatened as Sasori’s saliva warmed her neck and two points pecked her skin, almost breaching.  “Hmm, you’re blood is mine now, witch!” Sasori mumbled, mouth now occupied, and with that... Sakura gave in. 

No! 

The attack had been a success. and for a moment silence once more conquered the park as Sasori fed on Sakura. Moments later, it changed.

“Aaaaaarrrgh!!!!” a voice wailed into the night. There lying on top of Sakura was the now truly dead Sasori, slowly deteriorating into ash. It worked! Shannaro! Sakura was barely able to get away from that attack but thanks to her quick thinking she pulled it off. Sakura intentionally relaxed to draw Sasori in and at the very moment that Sasori’s teeth brushed her neck, Sakura pierced his heart with a wooden stake, half of her broken broom she managed to imbue with magic to arrow completely through him. 

“Now, who’s next?” Sakura grinned, her once pristine cloak covered in vampire cinders. She rose, breathless as beads of sweat cascaded down her, ready for a fight. 

“Get her!” Pein, the cinnamon haired vampire bellowed, enraged, as a shorter blond and another grey haired vampire both shot towards the white witch. Pein was their leader, Sakura realized, but decided that he wasn’t the most immediate threat yet. In order to survive she needed to act quickly. Now was time for Sakura to act and rid herself firstly of her most immediate attackers.

Hastily, Sakura wove her seal, her left thumb on top and her hands clasped together vertically, commanding the fragments of teak, remnants of the last attack, to scatter. In the wake of her exertion of power, her bindi radiated a powerful violet light as her shoulder length hair and, most notably,her cloak billowed in the night wind. “Shannaro!” the white witch cried, fragments of teak now dancing in the wind and meeting her attackers. 

  “Deidara! Hidan! You fools!” Pein screamed heatedly as Sakura’s most immediate assailants fell, their corpses punctuated with teak wood and white magical power. They were too close to escape Sakura’s adeptly timed firing. Now, with the Akatsuki three members short, a flicker of hope sparked in Sakura’s chest. “I can do this,” Sakura assured herself but she knew the real fight was yet to meet her. Pein and his remaining soldiers still composed her main threat. Sakura could feel it. The real fight was just commencing.

 Sakura knew from the way Pein, the lanky masked man beside him and the woman with precise navy strands gracefully evaded every single stake with no real effort that these three were the most powerful members of the Akatsuki. The miasma they each propagated dwarfed the fallen soldiers before her and they emitted an air of power, experience and skill that even Sakura could feel herself buckling before.  

  “This is where the real fight starts.” Sakura whispered, hands clasped, the witch still immersed in her enchantment. “Now we fight!” Sakura concluded. Without catching her breath Sakura, her bindi glowing as a lone star in the night, continued her assault. “Shannaro!”

They steeled their stances as the three hunters of the night prepared to pounce. “We’ll drain you dry, witch!” the masked man yelled in rage as the three of them sped off swiftly to their prey. Minutes sailed by while Sakura, deep in enchantment radiated a beam of radiant white magic, her mind willing the fragments of teak into a forceful dance. 

However, it mattered not the extent of her focus and power since these three vampires were of another class altogether. Splinters of teak littered the kept lawn of the park as the blue haired woman, with only the blur of her whirling cloak, disintegrated pieces as they flew past her. Pein stealthily evaded every attack and together with the masked vampire simply grabbed them up as teak pieces brushed past them, demolishing them into wooden ash with bare arms. “Enough!” Pein finally bellowed as if heralding the end of the confrontation. 

Sakura’s heart sank in anguish. Instantly her teak stakes were disposed of despite all of her focus and power being expended. “What are they?” she whimpered to herself, slowly receding into the comfort of a poui tree behind her, her luxurious alabaster cloak enveloping her. “Each one of them could fight on par with Sasuke!” 

Sasuke... Sasuke would never have let this happen. Even now she couldn't help but think about her love. Her love who abandoned her. She knew that together his dark power and her white magic would have ensured their victory.  As the young witch contemplated her next move she was alarmed by the hazard of Pein’s booming proclamation. His voice was like violent bursts of thunder echoing into the night and when he shrieked Sakura was bombarded by a blast of dark power, a force of psionic energy, Pein’s compulsion.

“Ah!” she exclaimed, her head bashing into the trunk of the poui tree with flowers raining upon her. Not only was Pein chipping away at her mind and spirit but the force of his outburst generated enough negative psychic energy to physically hurl her along with it. “I can’t believe it!” she screeched, hands clasped at her temples. 

“What a delicate little witch,” the cerulean haired vampire snickered while accompanied by the masked man, she approached the girl twitching at the trunk of the tree. “Her blood must be sweet!” the masked vampire added, glee and excitement lacing his high pitched voice. Sakura was now helpless. Pein’s power was devouring her mind, blocking her ability to cast any spells while he and his compatriots, now enclosed her, there blackness blotting out the light of the moon before her. 

“She’s pretty.” the woman noted. “We’re going to have to do something about that aren’t we?” she went on, her bony fingers leaving the safety of her cloak, revealing titian claw like nails, perfect for gauging. 

“I think I’m going to start with your e.....”

“Aaah!” 

Before completing her announcement the woman lay on the ground several feet away. The attack came out of nowhere and soon after both Pein and the masked man joined her several meters away from the young witch. The force of the thrust was enough, Sakura witnessed, to send them all flying. Alas it wasn’t enough to finish them and now Sakura and her savior, the one before her had to finish the job. 

Sakura looked on in awe and appreciation as standing before her was her savior, her dear Katsuyu. “Katsuyu you gathered enough nature power I see?” Sakura noted as she gently patted the slug, now grown to the size of an SUV. “Let’s finish them off shall we?” Once more, a hiss was all the slug could respond. 

“Get them Katsuyu!” the white witch called.  “Tongue Tooth Sticky Acid!” What happened next was beyond what any of those vampires could have anticipated. From its mouth, the great slug spewed a thick prasine acidic paste in the form of a thawing rain, onto the three vampires who were notably caught off guard. Alas the Akatsuki members still managed to avoid certain death, all three of them, barely evading and escaping the complete fading of the acid. However the woman and the masked man couldn’t completely escape untouched with acidic burns, signs of the paste dissolving through their undead flesh and bone, stippling portions of their legs, arms and chests. 

Before the writhing duo could complete their cursing, Sakura’s enchantment took effect. While acid was rained upon her enemy Sakura, once more invoked her magical power: she wove her seal, her left thumb on top and her hands clasped together vertically. The witch’s violet bindi radiated a light more luminous, more powerful than before as her pearly cloak spread like wings of a great eagle. She was now calling forth her most treasured and powerful nature spell. “Sakura Petal Storm!” she commanded as shimmering sakura petals shone about the embroidery of her cloak, as if coming alive at her willing. A white and clean wind twisted around her frame as pink and rose stars of energy, in the form of sakura blossoms, burst forth from her cape, blooming into existence and piercing the darkness of the night. Then instantly they exploded in all directions, homing in on the three vampires before her. 

Despite the blinding speed of the three, petals of magic and heat instantaneously caught them, encircling and exploding mana and driving white magic into their undead flesh. Wails from the woman and her masked partner livened the silent night as chunks of flesh were completely blown off from their limbs. Pein was silent though, he grit his teeth and endured the onslaught of sakura blossoms, eyes fixed on Sakura, eyes fixed on his prey.

“Impressive, witch!” Pein, forced, eyes alight with power in Sakura’s direction. “ But not enough to defeat the strongest of the Akatsuki.” Cloak raised, he countered. 

Almost there. Just a bit longer. I can defeat them with this. 

Blooming in Sakura was now a feeling of triumph and of pride. The young witch, with Katsuyu’s help, was able to deflect and injure the vampires before her. Just as she thought, her white magic was potent enough to penetrate their steel like flesh and even with the moon’s regenerative effect on the undead, Sakura knew she could at least render them helpless long enough to make her escape. She pressed on.

Something is wrong. 

Moments passed and thoughts of doubt and fear crept up on her. She could see that, despite his partners’ suffering, Pein was enduring her power enough to inject her with fright. Moments have flown by since she started her attack and gradually Pein’s resistance has been rising. His eyes... they gleamed with rage and power the likes of which Sakura had never seen. Could he be using his psionic power as a cloak to resist my enchantment? Such control of his power! Before completing her thoughts, Sakura received the answer to her doubts. Pein was freed.

“How dare you!” Pein boomed, now exerting the extreme force and pressure of his psychic power. His cloak of vampiric energy thrived in the darkness of the night at this point, completely whipping away all traces of white magic from his vicinity. Sakura’s bright rose coloured petals dispersed and their lights was snuffed out completely, engulfed in the darkness of Pein’s power, now enhanced with his partner’s psychic power. 

“Aaah!” Sakura screamed in the presence of the vampires’ might. They were now completely cloaked in dark power. Sakura’s spell was nullified and he was once more hurled metres away by the sheer force of their psionic convergence. Even Katsuyu was affected and transformed back into its original form. 

While they were suffering, she concluded, those two were able to marry their power with Pein’s and create enough vampiric power to eradicate even her most powerful spell and clear away all forms of magic in the surrounding area. What skill!

Defeated, Sakura wretched on the ground, gripping her ribs.”Are they broken?!” she screamed, the lancing pain too much to bear. As the three drew closer Sakura could see that their regeneration, a common vampire ability, was already taking effect, heightened by the light full moon shimmering over them. 

“No!” 

Sakura’s shrieks peppered the night and she wretched, clasping her hands at her temples in the wake of Pein’s psychic bursts. Pein’s lavender eyes shone a pale light while the team of vampires all stared at Sakura, each no doubt bombarding her with psionic force.  

“We’ll drive you mad before we torture and drain you dry, witch!” boasted the woman.

 “Yeah but before we drain you dry I might want to play with you a bit.” the masked man echoed. “I wonder how much fun we can have once these blasts loosen you up a bit. Ha!”

With that the woman lunged forward, her talon like claws once more branching out and pointed at the lone witch suffering on the ground. 

“You’re mine, witch!” 

“Gaah!” 

The confrontation was now over. Here on this night, Sakura was defeated. Despite her best efforts Sakura failed to stop the vampire woman’s attack.

Or was it?  As Sakura gradually opened her eyes, expecting to see the environs of the afterlife the young witch couldn’t process what lay before her. “Sasuke!” she yelled, shock and awe decorating her bruised face. Sakura couldn’t believe it. She couldn’t fathom what she was seeing. There, standing between her and her attackers was Sasuke. 

He came for her. Sasuke came to save her. She knew it. Sasuke did care about her and whatever force was ripping them apart, whatever conspiracy impacting on him, nothing could change the fact that Sasuke, her Sasuke would never let anyone harm her. Warmth and light filled Sakura as she looked on in her safety, protected by the love of her life. Together Sakura knew they could weather any storm and fell any enemy. “Sasuke...” the words stuck at her lips, what Sakura saw beyond Sasuke, shook her completely.

Sasuke stood silent, his back facing hers, and exerted a torrent of shadowy compulsion, the likes of which Sakura had never seen from him or from any vampire. His power was so awesome that Sakura realized that she was actually seeing it clearly surrounding him, a cloak of swirling ice-like energy and darkness.

 “Sakura, you’re not hurt are you?” were the only words he uttered, back facing the witch, looking over at her from his left. 

“No Sasuke. Not badly, I’m alright.”

“Hmm.”

That was his only response but Sakura could see the fire in his eyes, the rage he felt for those who hurt her. Before she could continue Sakura was alerted to the masked vampire’s screams. She hadn’t noticed before but Sasuke’s psychic power was especially focused on her attacker, the female vampire. Instead of Sakura, her claws were now buried into the chest of the mask man. 

“Konan you bitch!” the man coughed. “Snap out of it!”

Alas, his words were powerless. In this place and at this time, Sasuke’s compulsion was absolute. He imbued enough dark power into the woman’s mind that she saw, heard and felt the masked man as her enemy, as Sakura.

“Die witch!” Konan screeched while stabbing her partner. At this point they were skirmishing on the lawn, kicking up blades of grass, dirt and mulch as they brawled. As Sakura looked on she saw Pein, kneeling, trying to rise up from the ground, no doubt battling Sasuke’s power aimed at his. “How dare you lay a hand on Sakura!” Sasuke blared, “Who sent you, Pein?!” Silence followed. Since Pein refused to answer, Sasuke continued his assault.

Indeed, she could sense power, no, at this point Sakura could feel it and see it herself! Meeting Sasuke’s darkness was Pein’s own aura of compulsion and psionic energy, emanating from the lavender stars that were now his eyes and cloaking him as well in a cloak of vampiric power, a cloak of a pale, violet aurora.

Moments flew by and Sakura, helpless, looked on as she saw Sasuke take on Pein. Despite hailing from the noble Uchiha clan and being more powerful than Pein, Sakura could see how the Akatsuki member’s centuries of experience shone through and allowed him to match Sasuke’s own power. The force thrust upon Pein, the compulsion of the Uchiha cloaking his own aura was ineffective; Pein was able to counter every psionic blast of power from Sasuke and, unlike his partners, he was in full control of his senses. Pein matched Sasuke’s attacks perfectly as both auras clashed for dominion over the park.  

Sasuke... Sakura could feel it. If nothing was done soon, even with Sasuke here, they’d both be finished. Sasuke couldn’t keep up the spell on Konan while he bombarded Pein with hypnotic force and she herself hadn’t much power left. With whips like black lacquer from Sasuke’s aura beating against Pein’s cocoon-like whirls of lavender power, sparks of energy glittered the park. This went on for minutes with both Pein and Sasuke’s auras of psychic power gradually dimming as Konan and the masked man remained on the ground, Sakura noticed, now still. Their fight had ended leaving only Sasuke versus Pein.

No this isn’t right! Did he release her? Oh no they’re...

Too late. By the time Sakura and even Sasuke realized what had occurred Pein exuded a plume of psionic power so large and so magnificent that it dwarfed Sasuke’s power and produced enough energy to launch him into Sakura’s direction, hurling them both into the base of the trees behind. All Sakura could do was attempt to catch Sasuke before they both met the bark, Sakura for the second time tonight.

“Sakura...” Sasuke breathed, now locked in her arms, his head gently supported by her chest, petals of rich pink poui flowers drizzling them both as they lay defeated at the trunk. “Sasuke, shh. You’re alright.” Her her embrace tightened as she spoke and Sasuke could feel her through her grasp and her words wrapping him in warmth. “Sakura.. ugh... about before...”  That was all he could get out before the couple were alerted to what lay in their wake. The massive plume of energy was dimming in size, stabilizing and now it was clear.

Sakura could see Pein, his power, originally characterised by whirls of lavender whirls now mingled with wisps of cerulean and black magenta. Konan and the masked man at this point rose and it was apparent what had happened. As was the case before, the two of them performed a convergence of psionic power with Pein and forced his power to bloom into the beacon of compulsion that overtook the entire park. Sakura couldn’t breathe. What she saw was beyond comprehension. That same power was now concentrating itself into a cloak of force and darkness around the vampires, centering most of its intensity on Pein.

“This isn’t like the last time...” she muttered, her arms still holding Sasuke. “Those two...”

“Ugh. Indeed...” Sasuke breathed, completing her thought, now quietly arising from her embrace. “They used the moonlight as a conduit to extract and funnel their psionic power... They gave him all of their power.”

“Indeed they did, Sasuke.” A robust raspy voice echoed in response. Pein and his squad were drawing nearer to the couple, still cloaked in curtains of psychic power, power now crackling with each step drawn. Pein continued, “As sanctioned by Lord Madara, head of the Uchiha clan, we hereby execute this witch and Sasuke Uchiha, even as a son of the Uchiha, get in our way again and we will kill even you as our Lord has ordered. Now move aside.”

“How dare you! How dare that geezer and that Uchiha council attack Sakura!” Sasuke’s rage boomed through in his voice alarming even Sakura as he rose to face her attackers. “I’ve abandoned this witch. That is more than enough. Let her go! Leave Sa... aaargh!”

“Sasuke!” Sakura wailed holding Sasuke, now writhing on the floor before her, his hands clasped into hers. “Sasuke please!”  Before them Pein, now a few meters away, looked on, his eyes, eyes twinkling an aurora of lavender, black magenta and azure, fixed on the groaning vampire on the ground like a hawk. He was like a starved wolf fixating on his prey. “Stop it!” Sakura begged, her pride withering when faced with Sasuke’s probable death. “He’s an Uchiha! You can’t! Please!”

“Silence witch!” Now the masked vampire joined in. “Even a son of the Uchiha cannot override the orders of Lord Madara and his council. He interfered and sealed his fate.”  

“If you hadn’t seduced our Lord Sasuke this wouldn’t have been an issue in the first place, you filthy witch!” boomed Konan, the cerulean haired woman, her claws once again growing.

“Sakura...” Sasuke now hissed. “Sakura, please... run.” Sasuke’s condition was worsening as he was stabbed by Pein’s psychic power. Sakura could hardly breathe seeing him like this, drenched in cold sweat, his body convulsing inside her embrace. “Get away from here. I cannot lose someone precious to me like this. Sakura live.”

“Sasuke no! Sasuke I love you. I can’t.” Sakura responded, smiling, her words dripping with misery uncharacteristically delivered in a smile. She knew. Living at the expense of Sasuke’s life was worse than death and dying with her love would be a death she could at least find solace in. This type of death is one she could welcome if it meant being with Sasuke. Sakura’s only yearning was that they both be sent to the same plane in the afterlife. Resigned, cradling her lover, the white witch grabbed Katsuyu near and looked her executioners dead in the eye, awaiting her fate. Good bye Sasuke.

“How sweet.” Konan teased. “It’s the end for you both. Poor Lord Sasuke...” She was ranting on now, drunk on the prospect of their success and her revenge on the witch.

“Even if he drained ten humans and came at us, Master Pein with our power as Akatsuki, and the blessing of the moon, would not fall. Ha, not even to Sasuke Uchiha!”

“I, Pein of The Akatsuki, servant of Lord Madara and The Uchiha Clan...” Pein sternly proclaimed, readying the delivery of his judgement, spinning the ribbons of his power into an orb of aurora-like fire into his palm. “Now execute Lord Sasuke Uchiha and this witch as Lord Madara has ordered!” the vampire boomed, arms outstretched as he launched forth an eruption of flame-like psychic power which would moments later obliterate them.

That’s it!

Swiftly Sakura dug into her cloak and brought forth a smooth, obsidian palm sized crystal of black tourmaline and before the white hot blaze met her she forcefully smashed it into the ground.

“Power of nature

Purity of the Shikkotsu

I beseech thee

Protect!”

Pein and his compatriots stared in disbelief as alabaster wisps and whirls of pure mist weaved around the couple, robustly blooming from the park lawn and cocooning them in a cloak of protection. In the face of the bone-white dome Pein’s psychic power though bolstered by the power of his Akatsuki, silently died away.  

“Sakura...” Sasuke whispered. “It stopped right? You’re alright?” she breathed in response, beads of sweat stippling her face.

“But how?” Sasuke inquired, his tone strengthening in the wake of his pain leaving him.

“I used the black tourmaline crystal, Mistress Tsunade gave to me.” Sakura informed him, her breathing now steady after her display of witchery. I can’t believe I pulled it off! She thought to herself. Sakura, in the last minute, through combining the remnants of her white magic with the power her black tourmaline crystal, drew from the earth was able to create a barrier of light power for protection; an energy field to repel all negative forces. “It protects from evil.. but Sasuke, it’s not going to last more than a few minutes. Please... Take some of my blood!”

“Sakura...I can’t do that.” Sasuke responded, shocked that she would even mention such a thing. “You’re not a human feeder, you’re a witch! Your blood is too much.  I haven’t drunk blood in a while.. all the power I used... I might...”

“Lose control? Kill me?!” Sakura interrupted, strangely giggling. “Sasuke. I love you with all my heart and I know you can do it. I trust you. Please.”

“Sakura...”

“Sasuke please. It’s the only way,” Sakura pleaded. My witch’s blood might be powerful enough to boost your power beyond Pein’s right now. Konan said even ten humans. M blood should be way more!”

“Boom!” blasts of thunderous psionic force bombarded against the solid white of the barrier. Sakura grimaced, arms tightening around Sasuke. “It’s Pein. Sasuke, he’s breaking it. The barrier is fading. Sasuke... I’m not strong...”

Sakura was halted. Her lips now brushing against Sasuke’s. “Sakura.. you’re so strong, stronger than anyone..” Sasuke breathed into her ear after his kiss. “I know...”

Gently Sasuke held her in his arms, his charcoal cloak engulfing her frame, as the young witch swung her salmon hair back, leaving her porcelain neck bare and its rich blue veins exposed. It was time. As the assault on the barrier raged on Sasuke gently rested his lips upon her neck. Sakura almost jumped feeling Sasuke’s hot breath warming her neck, readying her for what was to come. Then it happened.

It wasn’t like what Sasori tried. No, what Sakura was experiencing now was totally different. While sheltered in Sasuke’s strong arms Sakura felt a slight pain, the pang of two acute fang penetrating her bare, white neck. “Sasukeeeh...” she moaned as Sasuke’s fangs entered her vein, his lips covering her and his body pressing against her own. Soon the slight stinging of the fangs gave way to something different, something more. As Sasuke drank from her, Sakura was overwhelmed, her knees weakened and her eyes blinded by a torrent of euphoria; pure unbridled bliss. Sasuke, her Sasuke, was drawing strength from her. Such a feeling of happiness in giving, in sharing, in nourishing her love with her body. It totally enamored her. Sakura wanted to give Sasuke everything. As blood passed between them Sakura felt warmth, vibrations and emotions she never knew. “Sasuke.. oh Sasuke... Sasuke I love you..” she repeated, her eyes closed as one of her arms reached under his cloak and caressed his strong, sinewy frame. The other ran through his spiky ebony strands, bringing each to life in the glittering of the moonlight as she gripped and ran her delicate fingers through, over and over again.” 

“Sakuraa...” Sasuke briefly whispered, before continuing. Sakura could feel his mouth tighten on her neck as she whispered into his ear and their bodies drew closer. Her broken ribs were insignificant now. In this space and in this time nothing existed except her and Sasuke. 

“Sakura..” Sasuke was entranced. Without magic Sakura had mystified, had enslaved him in her love. Such power, such hearth. Sakura... I love you too. He thought to himself. Sasuke was totally overwhelmed by this experience. The crimson elixir springing from Sakura’s veins sweetened on his lips, warming them and electrified him as he breathed in her scent. Sasuke reached new heights of pleasure never before felt and could feel Sakura’s love, a cloak of safety, a cloak of ecstasy, a cloak of love wrapping around him as she drew him closer and closer into her embrace. Whatever he was feeling, Sasuke concluded, Sakura was feeling something similar. He sensed it. Sasuke was chained in her love, chained in the blood passing into him and he relished it. 

However, in the far reaches of his mind a darkness was stirring. Sasuke could feel his hunger and blood lust lurking, vying for control. Such rich blood! Then it finally happened.

“Sakura!”

“Sasuke!”

As Sasuke’s hunger overcame him a spark of intense emotion burned and shone brightly in his mind, chasing away the darkness. It was felt in his mind, in Sakura’s mind. In both their minds. Sasuke. Sakura. In that moment their bliss reached its zenith and both the witch and the vampire formed a bond stronger than any power they’ve ever witnessed. 

Sakura could feel it. She could feel everything. Their minds became one, forming unity, marrying in a fashion that bodies never allowed. Sakura never felt so close to someone and could feel, see, hear Sasuke. She now completely knew him and this was the same for Sasuke with her. 

She saw it all, felt it all: Sasuke’s brother threatening him,  demanding that he leave her before the clan dealt with Sakura for him; the pure terror and despair that tore through his soul as he forced himself to sever ties with her; Sasuke hating himself and hurting himself and anything around him after leaving her on the bench and finally, Sasuke’s fear, love and anger swirled into one when he sensed her fighting and met her once more with the Akatsuki. Sasuke... She couldn’t help but shed tears. 

It’s gone. Sasuke was calm.... well calm as in not ripping out Sakura’s throat but still high on her blood calm as he described it to himself. Whatever bond they formed, whatever feeling they shared negated the adverse effects of feeding, of feeding on a witch, another creature of the night. Her magic, he concluded, the magic of an all powerful Shikkotsu witch, spiced her blood with power. No that wasn’t all. Their love birthed this. He was sure of it. The magic only carried the love. Now Sakura’s mind, heart and soul lay bare to him and Sasuke couldn’t help but smirk in his mind at the love, passion and yearning he felt emerging from her consciousness. He now knew what he had to do to end this. Slowly he forced himself away and readied himself to protect his love. 

“Sakura... I’m fine” he breathed into her neck, setting it ablaze with goose flesh as he did. He could feel her quiver and hear the squeak of a small whimper as his fangs retracted. “Sasuke... yes....” she meekly whispered as Sasuke, lithe and strong, lifted her into his arms and nestled her delicately against the trunk of a tree, placing Katsuyu in her arms.

“I’ll be back shortly.” was his only utterance. Then, he faced his anterior and steeled his nerves as the snowy boundary erected by Sakura, finally dissipated, smoke and vapor at last dancing into the night. “Pein! Konan! Obito!” the young vampire thundered as his enemies’ forms materialized before him. “How dare you?!”

“Sasuke Uchiha!” Pein bellowed into the night, with Konan and Obito sheltered behind him. Before him stood Sasuke, now more akin to a pure mass of compulsion, of psionic force. Sasuke stood rigid and radiated a star, a sun of vampiric energy and as he stood, the power seeping from his pores, from his eyes, from his very existence devoured the park. Sasuke’s usual black and ice blue aura which manifested when his powers were at their peak was now infinitely more brilliant, more dominating and more wild, sweeping his pure black cloak about in the night around him. Cyclone-like flares of psychic energy shot forth, forming revolutions of onyx, cool blue and outlines of dust rose, Sakura’s power, that wrapped Sasuke and everything else within them. The power formed streams that sewed through what seemed to be the night itself. With Konan and Obito at his back, prostrating before Sasuke’s aura, Pein, still independent, retaliated. “Die!”

While within the cloak that was Sasuke’s near divine aura, Pein clasping his hands, shot his star-like eyes through the aura and directly at Sasuke’s, now alight with power and radiating flames of crimson and charcoal. The lone Akatsuki member began his assault. Bending the power to his will, Pein compressed the now visible flare of power cloaking him into a sphere, aurora like in color as all his enchantments were after taking from his brethren. In one fell motion Pein, now naked in psychic strength lasered his power, their power, into the core of Sasuke’s nest of aura. 

Moments later it was as if a ferocious storm had settled in the park, ripping apart sound, light, space and existence in its rage as Pein’s laser of psychic power burst into Sasuke. When the booming, and luminous explosion of energy died reality was finally coming into view. 

Sasuke stood, untainted and without scar nor wound, following Pein’s last attack. Streams of his aura, which bloomed in the light of Sakura’s blood, remained, the core of which tinged Sasuke’s frame with outlines of pinkish-white. Pein on the other hand was defeated. There laying before Sasuke, his cloak of crimson and black gently lifted, billowing in the now settled, light, night breeze, was Pein. Vanquished, he was barely able to raise his head to face his foe. Sasuke rushed to hold Sakura and lifted her bridal style, her arms clasped at his neck with her face buried into his chest, beneath his cloak before approaching Pein. As the young vampire strode towards his adversaries, remnants of his now dimming aura burned the grass before Pein. A metre before Pein, he spoke. 

“Give a message to Madara, to Itachi and to the entire clan.” Sasuke ordered, his face devoid of emotion barring his eyes which were still scarlet and black. “No one shall harm Sakura. No one shall follow us. Ever.” After ensuring that Pein received his message, Sasuke hurled one last needle of compulsion into his mind, searing into him his warning once more and drowning him in a cloak of slumber.  With that he set off, Sakura, and Katsuyu in arm.

“Master Itachi!” a gaunt vampire shrieked, blasting apart the doors of the conference room. “Master Itachi! Lord Madara! The elders! We must tell them at once!” 

“What is it?!” the lone vampire clansman demanded, briskly turning to the intruder, his onyx eyes burning with fury between his centre-parted bangs. “What are you going on about?”

“Master Sasuke!”

”Hmm?”

”He’s escaped with the witch! Pein and the Akatsuki are defeated, only Pein, Konan and Obito came back!”

”Leave me and gather the council at once, I’ll reach Lord Madara.” Itachi commanded, his face hardening as he spoke.

“Yes master!” he blurted out slamming the doors as he ran off.

“So the little kid did it?” Itachi mused to himself, his stiff expression now melting away, giving way to a faint smile. “Good, Sasuke. ”

“Sasuke”

“Sasuke?” Sakura repeated, staring up at his strong chin as she searched his inky black eyes with her own faint green glare.

“Hmm?” Sasuke lazily responded, arms still wrapped around the witch as he covered her bare body with his cloak extended.

“Well my cloak can fly us out of here for hours still” she informed him, eyes looking downward at her improvised magic carpet, her now enchanted cloak. “But... Where should we go anyway?”

“Hmm... We haven’t planned.”

“....”

“How about Suna?” Sakura cheerfully suggested, breaking the silence once more.

“Anything you want.” was his final response before he smiled and lovingly tapped her forehead, directly on her bindi.

“Sasuke?”

“Hmm?”

“I love you.” 

With that Sasuke bent, brushing his hungry lips against hers, delicate lips like pink rose petals, initiating a spark that would soon intensify and blaze further.

I love you too, Sakura. A thought blossomed, warming her mind and body mid kiss.

Moments later another thought pinged. 

See? I told you those rose quartz crystals grants success in love! .

Not now Katsuyu! Sakura mentally shot back, managing to work a smile mid kiss as the flew off, Sasuke and Sakura wrapped up in each other’s hearth and embrace, their cloaks quivering in the milky twilight.

[suzukatherandom67-blog]

Lucky Luke is owned by Morris Morning had soon arrived in the desert and slowly enveloped the land with its warm light. It slowly crept over the four separate territories waking up its inhabitants. Luke slowly began to stir awake. His head felt groggy and his body felt weak from the effects of the tranquilizer. He struggled to sit up straight but finally managed to do so. "Ugh. What was in that dart?" Luke asked himself as he rubbed the temples of his forehead. He started to remember bits and pieces of what had happened last night. Luke recalled that he was on his way to talk to the eldest Kingery sibling before he ran into the Daltons. The Daltons, that word quickly brought back Luke's memories. He was just about to tie up Averell when the other managed to fire off a blow gun which had been mistaken for a flute. Luke had been hit by the tranquilizer dart that was inside before passing out. Out of instinct Luke quickly jumped to his feet readying himself for a brawl with the Dalton brothers. He soon regretted it as dizziness took over causing Luke to drop to his knees. Luke took a moment to let the dizziness subside before getting back to his feet this time slowly. Luke observed the room around him noticing it was to nice of a place for the Daltons to use as a hideout. "They didn't tie me up either that's strange". Luke said to himself. Luke saw a chair in the corner of the room that had his holster and revolver as well as his hat. Luke found that really odd. If the Daltons had taken him hostage why would they leave him his revolver. Luke scratched his head in confusion before he heard the door behind him click open. Luke quickly rushed over to his revolver before a female voice spoke out. "Don't you dare grab that gun cowboy". The voice demanded. Luke froze as the door opened reveling Renee who had a trey of food in her hands. "Don't worry I mean you no harm, just thought I bring you some breakfast". Renee said. Luke looked at the woman with suspicion. "Who are you and how did I end up here"? Luke asked. "My name is Renee I'm a friend of Mrs. Kingery's. You were brought here last night by the Daltons". Renee replied. Luke gave a look of surprise. "Wait the Daltons brought me here? What would make them do such a thing"? More importantly why haven't you guys locked them up yet"? Luke asked. "We were going to lock them up but the short Dalton managed to strike a deal with Mrs. Robin". Renee said. Luke remembered Jack and William mentioning that they made a deal with Robin in order to get out of trouble. "Joe told me that they were trying to stop the feud by helping Robin find her kid but I don't see how that has anything to do with....me". Luke trailed off. "Wait don't tell me that the Daltons think I'm Robin's kid"? Luke asked. Renee nodded her head as Luke finally pieced it together. "Wow I never realized how desperate the Daltons were to escape to make themselves believe that I am the son of the woman who is promising their freedom". Luke chuckled. Renee however did not find this funny. "Mr. Luke although the Daltons did make the deal out of desperation you are the closest man I have ever seen that resembles Robin's son". Renee said. Luke looked at her with surprise. "You're kidding right? You actually believe I'm Robin's son"? Luke asked. "Appearance wise yes, but other than that I can not say for certain". Renee said. Luke took his hat from the chair and placed it on his head. "Well I'm sorry to disappoint you and Mrs. Robin, but I'm pretty certain I'm not the guy you folks are looking for". Luke said as he put on his boots. Luke was about to leave the room before Renee spoke up. "How can you be so certain"? She asked. Luke turned around at the door to face Renee. "Do you have parents waiting for you at home"? Renee asked. "Um..No I'm an orphan". Luke responded. "Did you even know your parents"? Renee asked. "Well no". Luke replied. "Then how can you be certain that Robin isn't your mother"? Renee questioned the cowboy. "I just ... it just seems impossible". Luke said. "Nothing in this world is impossible Mr. Luke. Just look at yourself you can shoot faster then your own shadow, that would be considered impossible yet here you are". Renee said. Luke fell silent at Renee's words. Renee could see the confusion and uncertainty in Luke's eyes. Her face became one of understanding as Renee sympathized with Luke knowing very well that today his whole world could change. She placed the trey on the table. "Why don't you sit down and have some breakfast? You missed dinner while you were out so I bet you'rr pretty hungry right about now. As for the son thing don't worry about that we'll talk about it later". Renee said. "Thank you". Luke said. Renee left the room leaving Luke alone with his thoughts. Luke was able to keep the thoughts of possibly being Robin's son at bay by thinking on how to handle the current situation with the Daltons and the feud between the four Kingery's. But those thoughts about Robin didn't stay away for long though as Luke knew in the end he would need her to help stop the feud and to try to convince Robin to deny the Daltons sanctuary. Once Luke was done with his meal he finished getting ready for the day before heading downstairs mentally preparing himself for the what lie ahead. Luke soon found himself in front of Robin who had her back to him unaware of the cowboy's presence. He tried to get the words out to say hello but Luke was finding it quite difficult. Luke could feel the words get caught in his throat as a bead of sweat rolled off his brow. Just as Luke finally managed to open his mouth Robin had turned around with a look of surprise taking over her face as she spotted the cowboy. "Oh, Luke I didn't see you there, did you sleep well last night"? Robin asked. "Yes mam I slept like a bab..log I slept like a log". Luke said hastily. "I bet you did, that tranquilizer sure had you out for quite some time". Robin said.   The two stood in an awkward silence before Luke managed to speak up. "Where are the Daltons"? Luke asked. "Their in the guest house still sleeping. Why do you ask"? Robin questioned. "I wanted to talk to you about denying them sanctuary". Luke said. Robin looked at Luke her eyes softening and showing regret. "I can't let you take them unfortunately at least not yet". Robin said. "I know Renee told me about the deal". Luke said. "Luke I understand that this must be very confusing and frustrating for you but I'm just trying to find my son". Robin said. "How can you be sure its me though"? Luke asked. " I don't know and that's what's frustrating. My heart keeps telling me your the one but I have to be realistic with the chance that you could not be my son". Robin said. "Well we need to figure out something. I can't just let the Daltons run around freely to do whatever they please". Luke said. A nearby father clock chimed grabbing the attention of Robin and Luke. "I think I might have an idea". Robin said. Moments later Robin and Luke were back upstairs each with a few pieces of paper, quill, and bottle of ink in their position. "Renee told me about you being an orphan. I don't know if you wanted that information out but I thought that we could write down parts of our lives. For me I'll write down the day I lost my baby". Robin said. "And I write the day I was found"? Luke asked. "Correct, with our stories we can determine if they match up or not thus proving whether or not your my son". Robin answered. "And we'll be in separate rooms so nobody cheats". Luke said. "Yes, Renee will read our stories after we're finished". Robin said. And with that the two entered their respected rooms and began writing. Downstairs the Daltons had joined Renee in waiting to see if they had truly found Robin's son. Even Rantanplan and Jolly Jumper came along though Jolly could only observe through an opened window. An hour or so passed before Luke came downstairs. He handed his paper to Renee before sitting down on a wooden stool next to the window Jolly Jumper was viewing from. "He's more shaky than a bald cat in winter". Jolly said concerned for his human friend. "Cat where"? Asked Rantanplan. A few moments later Robin came downstairs handing her paper to Renee. Soon the Daltons, Lucky Luke, and Robin found themselves sitting around Renee eager to hear the results. " I hope she's gonna read us a fairy tale I always like those". Averell said. "Shh, she's starting". William said hushing his brother. Renee grabbed Robin's paper first and began reading. Robin and Renee were traveling with a small caravan on its way to California. Two months prior Robin had given birth to her son and her relatives living in San Francisco were eager to see the newest member of the Kingery family. The path they were on was very bumpy from the many rocks that laid about. This in turn woke up Robin's infant son who had previously been sleeping. Robin did her best to calm down her baby eventually managing to do so though the peace didn't last for long as the wagon she was in ran over another bump in the road. "Are you sure there isn't another path we can take? This path seems a tad to bumpy". Robin said. "Sorry Mrs. Kingery but this is the only path that can get us safely past the Indian territories". Said the Wagon driver. "Well are there at least any towns nearby? The baby really needs his nap plus he's probably getting hungry". Robin said. Renee sat next to Robin as she brought out the map. "Strange, there doesn't appear to be any settlements on or around the path we're on. Are you sure this map your brother gave you is legitimate"? Renee asked. "It should be he's taken this path many times to map out the plans for his next project". Robin said. They continued down the path. Along the way one of the two accompanying caravan guards noted the high number of coyotes in the area. "Better pull out your pistols boys these coyotes might be a problem if they start getting to close". The driver said as he readied his weapon. The small group kept their eyes peeled as they continued on ready to scare off any varmint that thought to go after their group. However the wildlife wasn't their only problem as a band of men mounted on horseback started racing towards them from the back. The caravan driver pulled to the side thinking that the group behind them just wanted to get by. Unfortunately that wasn't the case as the group began opening fire on the caravan. "Bandits take cover quick"! Shouted the second guard. The driver quickly handed the reigns  to Renee before jumping off. "You need to get you, your friend, and the baby to safety. Just keep following the road and whatever you do don't stop for anything"! The driver commanded. Renee gave a firm nod on agreement before ordering the horse to continue on. The wagon jolted up and down as they made their raced down the path. Robin clung to her baby for dear life while also grabbing the side of the covered wagon in order to prevent themselves from being thrown about the wagon. The bandits were soon catching up again though it appeared that there were fewer of them this time. "Robin try tossing some of the stuff back there maybe we can try slowing those varmints down". Renee said. Robin did just that as she managed to push out a large wooden chest that exploded into pieces as it made contact with the grown. Robin managed to toss out smaller items before the bandits began opening fire. The baby wailed as Robin took cover. One of the bandits pulled out a bow and arrow. They sit the tip of the arrow on fire before launching it. The flaming arrow hit the back of the wagon setting the covered part a blaze. Robin quickly made her way to the front of the wagon as the flames made their way forward. Renee hopped onto the horse pulling the wagon. "Robin over here quickly"! Renee called out. Robin reached the outer front of the wagon. Renee reached her hand out to help her friend and the baby onto the horse. Maintaining her balanced Robin reached out her one free hand towards Renee. Then the wagon ran over a huge rock and Robin was sent flying. Time seemed to slow down as Robin was airborne. She held her son close to her chest and tightened herself into a ball to protect her baby from the impact. Time sped up again as Robin violently slammed into the ground. The force caused Robin to bounce off and be airborne once more but this time for not as long. The back of Robin's head impacted with the ground and she lost conscious right then and there. "H..Hey I think she's waking up"! Came a voice. Light began to enter robin's vision as she slowly gained conscious. Blurry figures soon became recognizable faces as the images began to clear. The first person Robin could make out was the wagon driver followed by Renee and the two guards who were badly beaten up. Renee rushed to her friend's side. "Robin stay still your hurt bad". Renee said. Robin looked up to the sky, the sun was no longer in its place instead the moon rose over head signaling nighttime. As she became more focused Robin noticed that they were one bundle short. "W... Where is the baby"? Robin asked weakly. Renee and the others looked to each other in hesitation. "Renee where is my baby"? Robin said in a demanding tone that was very unlike her. The driver spoke up first. "I'm sorry Mrs. Kingery but we only managed to find you the others looked around but they couldn't find anything". The drives said regretfully. "No"! Robin shouted as she fought to stand up. "Mrs. Kingery please lay back down"! The driver cried out. Robin got to her feet limping towards the horse. "Robin I know your worried but please stop you're to injured to go off searching"! Renee pleaded as she placed her hand on Robin's shoulder. Robin pushed the hand  of her dear friend away as she mounted the horse. "My son could still be out there I can't just leave him to who knows what. I have to find him even at the cost of my own life". Robin said before signaling the horse to take off. Robin could here Renee call out her name but the voice faded as Robin galloped into the night. Robin's side burned as she followed the path of where she last saw the wagon. She pushed the pain down as she focused more on finding her son. When she finally found the wagon it was a wreck, the clothes and other items laid strewn about  the path leading up to the half burnt out wagon. Several coyotes circled around the husk. Robin pulled out her firearm and shot into the sky successfully scaring off the wild beast. Robin immediately jumped off the horse and began searching through the wreckage. She turned over every rock and looked into every nook and cranny. Some how Robin even managed to push the wagon in order to see if her son had somehow ended up underneath but nothing. She looked around the surrounding area for any signs of tracks thinking that maybe someone took her boy but any tracks that passed by were completely erased by the wind. Pain quickly gripped Robin as she let out a cry of pain while holding her side. She fell to her hands and knees. Robin listened in to her surroundings hoping, praying to hear the cry of a baby but all she could hear was the chirping of crickets. Robin soon fell onto her back looking up into a beautiful starry sky which seemed to mock her with its beauty and stars clustered into their own little families. Hoof steps could be heard as Renee rode up to the wreckage. She spotted her friend sitting on a crate crying. Renee quickly ran up to her friend embracing the other in a hug.  "I'm sorry, Robin I'm so sorry". Renee said now joining Robin in the tears. Robin cried out more and louder then before, but not from her physical injuries. No there was a pain that hurt much more and ran deeper then any physical wound could ever do.  Robin had lost her baby. Back in the current time Renee finished reading Robin's story. The Daltons sat by crying as Renee finished Robin's peice. "Th..That's just so sad"! Averell cried. "She just lost her kid just like that"! Joe bawled. Robin wiped a tear from her eye as memories of that day played in her head. Renee looked up to Luke. Luke sat there pale as a ghost. "Mr. Luke are you alright"? Renee asked. Renee approached Luke who did not respond. As Renee got closer she noticed Luke mouthing something. "R-E-A-D I-T". Seemed to be what Luke was saying. Renee returned to the desk grabbing Luke's paper. In his head Luke read what he had written down his thoughts following Renee's lips as she began to read. "I was found by a cowboy named Sam outside the town of Nothing Gulch sometime during the day. He found me not far from a burnt out wagon. Luckily Sam found me at the nick of time as the wagon was being eyed by hungry coyotes". The room became nothing but an echo of gasp as the realization of Luke's story sunk into their heads. The stories matched.

[riaasam]

... because they know exactly what they are doing

Jair stepped onto the spacious terrace of the Presidential Villa, his official residence in the government capital Brasilia. The architecture of the villa did not suit his taste. Too simple. Too detached. So he preferred his finca in the rainforest in an elegant, down-to-earth colonial style and his city palace in the style of modern Sun Kings. He smiled at the thought, then his eyes began to dim. How greedily the people cried out for democracy. Acting as if something had changed beneath him. As if the rainforests had not been cleared for hundreds of years, to the advantage of the most successful, because cleverest. As always. Like everywhere. He was glad that the road was now too arduous for old Batista to audition personally at the villa. He laughed up his sleeve at the thought of how cleverly he had managed to pull this off again. Old Batista had the unbearable charisma of a self-made man who looked down scornfully on all those who were already born into a privileged position through the achievements of their forefathers. As if he had chosen it! The old man unpleasantly reminded him of his father who never missed an opportunity to point out the ridiculousness of all his Jair's successes in relation to his own, his life-giver and founder of the family dynasty.

One of the reasons why he got along so well with Joesly Batista, who was tormented even more by his father, who had actually made him one of the richest people in the world and his son, as he was happy to point out, would be nothing without him. It would not surprise him if Joesly would speed up the departure of the old man, who, in his mid-eighties, was still bristling with tyrannical power. His assistant, a capable but extremely ugly creature, he suspected that his wife had had a hand in this, as she knew too well how quickly he exchanged his wives for their younger model, reported that the gringos would arrive slightly late and Joesly was to arrive in five minutes. He liked Trump for his exquisite taste in choosing his women and admired his open display of his supposed wealth. And he was not one of those softies who outwardly presented himself as liberal and democratic and then, behind closed doors, euphorically shit on morals and greedily seize every opportunity for money, as the US and European democrats like to do. He shivered at the thought of the second guest who was to travel with Trump. He was reluctant to admit it but this Larry Fink frightened him. For a long time he had pondered over his motives. He was already rich and his power was one he could not flaunt. What was he interested in? Control? The guy worked 100 hours a week, did not take part in orgies, did not drink, did not take drugs, ate only white rice. Creepy. At least this time Trump left his maladjusted son-in-law at home. After the last visit they had to pay the family of the very young chambermaid a horrendous amount of hush money to comfort them over the brutal rape by the devilish gringo. A fine piss who believed the whole world had to obey him. Jair had heard rumours of goon squads, from which the said son-in-law had his opponents beaten to a pulp, and then, when the poor bastards were tied up and lying half-dead in their last trains, he would slip on a pair of gloves made of human leather, demonstrate his power with weak blows and then cut their throats in a cruel, amateurish way. Rumours. But he would not be surprised. Despite the pleasant 24 degrees that prevailed here in summer, Jair shivered again.

His assistant tore him from his morbid thoughts to report that she had led the just arrived senior Batista to the large terrace. Jair tensed his shoulders, pulled in his stomach and put on the El Presidente's jovial smile as he approached his guest. They greeted each other amicably and toasted to hopefully successful negotiations with the whisky that his prudent secretary had brought. Trump had been extremely vague on the phone, but he was immediately infected by his euphoria at the prospect of the money blessing. Joesly seemed tense as he talked about the shitty climate bitch from some shitty farm town in Europe who dared to complicate his life. "Isn't it enough that I have to deal with these retarded Indians and their backwoods tree love? And then there are those brainwashed religious fanatics from Gringoland who claim that God has a problem with us cutting down trees to grow meat. Then why did God give us the fire and the saw in the first place, if He objects?" Jair nodded sympathetically and grumbled something about plaited dictatorship, which he had picked up on the internet and seemed particularly witty to him. In fact, these rebellious children were increasingly becoming a problem. They talked about their future, even the future of all humanity, which was stolen from them by the older generation. Old that he did not laugh, he was in his prime. As a result, an unpleasant hatred of the rich and powerful also began to spread, and it took on alarming proportions. Powerful men were dragged to court for so-called sexual harassment. As if they did not all crave for it and lick their eggs with enthusiasm for even the smallest promise of success. Now these sluts all suddenly showed solidarity and spoke of abuse, even though for centuries it had been more a matter of a silent agreement of giving and taking. Sometimes he no longer understood the world. Maybe he was getting old after all. Both looked mournfully ahead and sucked listlessly on their Cohibas as the roar of an approaching helicopter tore them from their thoughts. As this ghastly bloodsucker Fink seemed to have something against sunlight, they had to leave the bright day to go to the darkened library. They allowed themselves a good sip and poured themselves into the leather couches that looked more comfortable than they were. Trump rumbled a greeting in surprisingly poor English for a native speaker, while Fink's smile seemed a little forced as usual. The two probably saw each other more as an unfortunately acceptable means to an end than as a human enrichment. Drinks were served, still water for Fink, a can of light cola for Trump and after the somewhat tough small talk had completely dried up, Fink, the initiator of this meeting, directed the conversation towards the purpose of this very meeting. "Gentlemen, I think I need not mention that everything discussed in these four walls today is subject to absolute secrecy. He looked around and everyone nodded. "The world is changing right now and not in our favour. The internet is a goldmine on the one hand, but on the other hand it is an almost uncontrollable pool of information that can be accessed by almost the entire world population. What used to be a regional scandal is now a global story that puts pressure on the courts to impose harsh penalties and forces politicians to take an official stand. Two decades ago, neither Weinstein nor Epstein would have been brought down. At the mention of these two names, all those present sighed with concern. That such cunning bastards were put on trial in public had been a shock. Especially this blackmailer Epstein had made all men in powerful circles tremble. It had been a masterstroke to fake his death, to give him a new face with a small surgical operation and to make him disappear forever to prevent all the sex videos with minors that this criminal had recorded with almost everyone in the world who had anything to report from being published on this damned internet. After a short break Fink continued: "Millions of young people worldwide have made it their business to destroy our economic system and even if they are just children, we should not underestimate the pull of their rebellion. Politicians feel compelled to make more and more green concessions for marketing reasons and consider that these children have parents who will take them on for themselves and their cause. The fear of terror is decreasing worldwide as the Islamist movements become less and less attractive and fewer and fewer young people want to commit themselves to their cause and give their lives. We need a new source of fear, a new enemy from outside, which makes authoritarian states seem necessary again, nips troublesome social and climate policy discussions in the bud and promotes nationalism. We have run various scenarios through our Aladdin Programme and our analysts have come to the conclusion that a global pandemic is the best outcome. We take a relatively harmless virus that actually exists and declare it the greatest threat to all mankind. The virus will be fatal, especially for very old people, thus reducing the burden on the health care system, and will hardly affect the production and consumption power of younger people. The initial uncertainty will turn into fear and, as a result, widespread support for rigid policies and high public spending on public health and safety. According to our calculations, the portfolios that we have created in anticipation of what is to come will have a significant increase in value in the pharmaceutical industry, medical products, safety clothing, new technologies, digital media, food industry" - he nodded to Batista, "online shopping etc. with 99% certainty". Trump, who was always nervous when listening for a long time, asked for his third can of light cola. Fink waited, with the patience of a sadistic governess for the child she had entrusted to her disturbed parents, until the little drink disappeared in her big hands to continue with his explanations: "Politics, which fortunately is globally in conservative hands, where change tends to be detrimental. "But our hands are not at all conservative behind closed doors, aren't they Jay-Jay?" Trump interjected and looked around the faces of his co-conspirators for recognition. Jair twitched slightly and forced himself to grin. That this stupid redneck could not remember a single non-English name. And Jair was really not complicated. Fink suppressed his increasing energy. Even the joint flight with this giant baby had been an intellectual imposition. But he played his role in world political affairs perfectly and had earned them billions in just one term of office, thanks to the withdrawal of bank regulations and other gifts with which he bought himself free of his debts. He cleared his throat: "Conservative governments worldwide will not question the existence of the virus when they realise how useful the situation is for them to extend their power and distract from their own political shortcomings.  And no one will risk going it alone, as science will be uncertain in the beginning, when assessing the danger of the disease and a decision against the trend could make you a murderer umpteen times over. We already have the Chinese on board. Their sensible approach to the freedom of the internet and freedom of expression in general will make it much easier to let the outbreak take place there and we have been able to convince them with the political incentives as well as the financial ones, as the unrest in Hong Kong, Taiwan and the PR disaster with the Uyghurs urgently require distraction. The international airport in Wuhan will make a rapid global dissemination look credible and the scandal-hungry press will be enthusiastic about it. Our programme sees only one problem and that is the unpleasant desire to question the decisions of the rich and powerful, which is ineradicably stuck in a part of the people. We distinguish between the factually based empirically rational criticism of the mostly academically educated, the argumentatively logical criticism of the intellectuals and the intuitive criticism of the uneducated. In order to convince the critics of the opposite, our analysts have come to the conclusion that the questioning of the existence of the virus must come from their anti-Jesus, the symbol of the rejection of rational reason and scientific facts, from them, Mr Trump and Mr Bolsonaro!Jair was unsure how to react, as the image for which he had just been described to stand did not necessarily seem positive to him. "Don't get me wrong," the diplomat of money, who became aware of his perhaps a little too businesslike way of talking about people present at that moment, reacted promptly. "of course, this is not about you as private individuals, but you as public figures with a publicity value" Both Trump and Bolsonaro seemed insecure and hurt. "What I mean is not real public opinion but the left-wing propaganda that sells you to the establishment! Larry's voice was firm and convincing as he quickly took those words from his brain. That was the secret of his success. He was simply faster than the majority of his counterparts and was able to provide the desired answer within seconds, which in turn led to the desired result for him. Larry looked at his brain in a similar way to a computer, which fed data into it and used it to make predictions. The better the data, the more precise the prognosis. When the internet was invented, he immediately saw its potential. With it he was able to build the super brain, the real time super brain that was closest to a collective memory and therefore knowledge store, the Internet, scouring for information and being able to make the most precise predictions about the possible future. A real boon to financial investment, whose weakness is its dependence on insecure political systems, rebellious people and natural phenomena. The earlier an investor can predict the occurrence of major changes, the earlier he can react to them by either selling or buying shares affected by these changes, depending on the circumstances. An incoming uncertainty among consumers, let's say caused by a virus that can be deadly, offers the opportunity to sell shares in tourism, travel transfer, aircraft manufacturers and their suppliers, shipbuilders and their suppliers, car manufacturers and their suppliers, etc. and to buy shares in pharmaceuticals, medical supplies, safety clothing, online shopping, telecommunications, security, etc. But, why bother reacting to events only when you can trigger events? Especially if you have the perfect tool to play through all scenarios and thereby protect yourself. He was almost touched when he thought of Aladdin. For him it was like landing on the moon for others. His dream had come true. Jair was still not quite sure if he had just been insulted, but decided to listen to the bloodsucker for a while. "We already have Boris Johnson on board. He thinks the plan is brilliant. Even the Chinese will first deny the existence of the virus in order to strengthen the belief in the virus among opponents of authoritarian regimes. Steve Bannon has the political right in Europe well in hand. There are too many risks involved in opening this kindergarten, but they will probably follow your good example as always. Your followers, who are more likely to be the Uneducated Critics, will follow your example and question the existence of the virus, which in turn will strengthen the credibility of the Educated Critics Group 1, as they will instinctively believe the opposite. Group 2 of the intellectual free-thinkers is more difficult to convince but according to our calculations negligible, as they play hardly any role in the formation of public opinion at the moment, fortunately for us. If at some point it inevitably comes to light that the virus was actually harmless, group 1 will look stupid, group 3 will feel strengthened in their belief in themselves and their leaders and you will be the more or less the only ones who have seen through the situation". Fink looked around to see if his words had the desired effect. "I love it," Trump said. "Nice work, Larry." He patronisingly added. Jair was thrilled. A worldwide conspiracy and he, one of the few initiates. As far as he could see, the thing didn't even seem to be claiming any real victims, just hastening the departure of those already doomed to death. "Not uninteresting" he commented, however, with restraint at first. Larry added "In addition to the political capital, there is of course also the possibility for you to privately and discreetly make considerable financial capital out of the matter. Through Black Rock I have the possibility to invest anonymous investment packages for you, whose profit is distributed directly to an untraceable account in a country of your choice. "Who all knows?" was Batista's first words. "Few who, apart from me, know nothing about each other. There are no records, only verbal agreements. I don't need to explain to you what you or your company get out of it. Climate strikes will dry up. People will have other problems than thinking about animal welfare and veganism, and according to our calculations, the turnover of the food industry will shoot through the roof because underemployed people tend to overeat. Batista nodded in agreement that this was a well-known fact. Hooray for the holidays. Jair's mind was already somewhere else. He thought of the house on the French Riviera that Michelle had wanted for so long, the Ferrari he had secretly dreamed of for so long. All of this was served to him here on a silver platter without him having to lift a finger! And in the end it would even get him another term of office. So dreams became reality. He smiled blissfully as he rang for the maid to order a bottle of the best champagne the villa's cellar had to offer in the library. The mood was exuberant. Even Fink was persuaded to have a glass. Suddenly it didn't seem so bloodless and unpleasant anymore. He was a genius and they are notoriously eccentrics. And this eccentric would make him Jair very, very rich. He would have liked best to kiss him. Instead he raised his glass and shouted happily: "To a fantastic coming year gentlemen!"

Continuation followed ...

Translated with www.DeepL.com/Translator (free version)

[paulbenedictblog]

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Usa today 'Covidiots,' small victories, a tracking app: News from around our 50 states

Usa today

Usa today Alabama

Sir Bernard Law: Higher than 300 neatly being care workers in the speak had been diagnosed with COVID-19, in response to contemporary recordsdata released by the speak Department of Health on Tuesday afternoon. The ADPH recordsdata provides contemporary perception into who has been most affected thus some distance by the coronavirus pandemic, even though the division entirely releases these numbers after an legit vetting course of, that diagram the true-time series of staunch infections and hospitalizations is continuously in flux. As of Monday, 272 of us out of two,007 confirmed coronavirus cases had been hospitalized. Of these 272 of us, 116 were in the ICU, and 75 of us were on “mechanical ventilation,” the most outrageous medication for coronavirus that enables of us to breathe by strategy of ventilators to lend a hand their bodies war the virus. ADPH says 315 neatly being facility and doctor’s speak of enterprise workers had been diagnosed with the virus.

Usa today Alaska

Anchorage: A tribe and city asked beget the governor to shut down a affluent fishery this year in response to the coronavirus pandemic. The Curyung Tribal Council and the city of Dillingham requested the closure of the Bristol Bay fishery in a letter to Republican Gov. Mike Dunleavy on Tuesday, Indian Country Nowadays experiences. The Bristol Bay fishery in total opens in June and harvests more sockeye salmon than wherever else globally. Fish harvesters there caught 56.5 million salmon in 2019. The fishery brings about 14,000 of us to the speak for work with fish processing plant companies while drawing about 1,800 fishermen who had been named needed workers by the speak. “Our neighborhood doesn't beget the functionality to manipulate the stagger of this community,” the letter to Dunleavy mentioned. “That is unacceptable and locations us in an very maybe no longer field.”

Usa today Arizona

Page: Authorities in northern Arizona beget arrested a particular person for writing a racist social media submit accusing Navajo of us of carrying the coronavirus and calling for his or her deaths. The Page Police Department announced Tuesday that 34-year-faded Daniel Franzen became taken into custody on suspicion of making an are trying to incite an act of terrorism. Police direct they obtained experiences of a Fb submit that entreated of us to sigh “lethal power” in opposition to the Navajo neighborhood attributable to they were “100% contaminated” with COVID-19. Investigators direct they traced the undergo Franzen. In an announcement, Page police mentioned any unlawful loathe speech will almost definitely be “aggressively investigated.” Authorities also mentioned anybody who makes retaliatory threats in opposition to the suspect could maybe be field to investigation as neatly. Town of Page borders the Navajo Nation, the nation’s perfect Native American reservation.

Usa today Arkansas

Small Rock: Town is banning automobile caravans for the length of the coronavirus outbreak after a huge crowd of autos gathered over the weekend. Small Rock Mayor Frank Scott announced the govt.say in response to gigantic crowds that gathered in autos at an intersection and shut by parking plenty. “Let me own this straightforward and obvious – COVID-19 is no longer a game,” Scott mentioned. The say, which took enact Monday, defines a caravan as 5 or more autos touring to a job with the intent of exiting them for leisure functions. Small Rock already has a slow night time curfew in enact thanks to the outbreak. Arkansas has imposed completely different restrictions, including a prohibition on gatherings of greater than 10 of us, nevertheless has stopped in need of a broader defend-at-dwelling say. Health officers mentioned Wednesday that the series of coronavirus cases in the speak has reached 1,000. Arkansas has had 18 deaths.

Usa today California

Riverside: A educated nursing facility in Southern California where nearly about three dozen residents are contaminated with the coronavirus is being evacuated after workers people did no longer say as much as fancy them, officers mentioned Wednesday. Riverside County public neatly being officers mentioned in an announcement that 84 sufferers will almost definitely be moved from the Magnolia Rehabilitation and Nursing Center in Riverside after workers didn’t say up two days in a row. Regarded as one of 13 certified nursing assistants confirmed as much as work, the assertion mentioned, which precipitated the county to send in nurses. Five workers and 34 residents on the 90-bed knowledgeable nursing facility had been found to beget the virus, the assertion mentioned. It became no longer immediately obvious which facilities would derive the residents, nevertheless they're going to endure containment measures including closing to contemporary sufferers and keeping apart sick residents, the assertion mentioned.

Usa today Colorado

Denver: Town is opening a huge, non everlasting homeless refuge and making about 300 resort rooms on hand to homeless of us that have to be isolated thanks to the coronavirus, strikes the mayor mentioned are needed to keeping the total neighborhood. About 250 people of the Colorado National Guard are taking on staffing on the city’s present homeless shelters, allowing the city to delivery an extra refuge for 600 men on the National Western Advanced on Thursday, Mayor Michael Hancock mentioned. The contemporary refuge, staffed by the Denver Rescue Mission and doctors from a homeless neatly being sanatorium, will provide about 50 square feet for every particular person. This could additionally own it more straightforward for of us staying at completely different shelters to observe social distancing, which has no longer beforehand been feasible, officers mentioned. Town also has a 48-bed supplemental refuge for anybody with flu or chilly symptoms, Hancock mentioned.

Usa today Connecticut

Hartford: Gov. Ned Lamont mentioned Tuesday that there are indications the surge of COVID-19 cases in the speak is “knocking down out,” nevertheless he implored residents to dwell vigilant and continue to stick with the speak’s strict social distancing measures. The Democrat warned that “here is no time for ‘Chuffed Days Are Here Another time,’ ” relating to the upbeat tune faded by President Franklin Delano Roosevelt’s campaign even supposing of us were quiet struggling the consequences of the Immense Depression. Lamont mentioned his administration is working with Contemporary York and Pennsylvania officers on a thoughtful and stable diagram the speak can at closing emerge from the coronavirus disaster. “And that diagram starting with social distancing,” he mentioned. “‘Howdy dude – retain your distance.’ I wish to hear that wherever I ride.”

Usa today Delaware

Rehoboth Seaside: Rehoboth Seaside Police announced they're monitoring autos with out-of-speak license plates to put into effect the governor’s mandate for out-of-speak company to self-quarantine for two weeks. Town mentioned in a recordsdata originate Tuesday that police beget adopted 59 out-of-speak autos that entered the city limits since April 3. Police mentioned they found 11 of the 59 drivers to be in violation of the mandate. Officials are also keeping a shut survey on activities on Rehoboth Seaside and the seashore’s boardwalk. No topic its closure, police mentioned they found six of us on the seashore. No arrests were made in any of the violations. The self-quarantine say by Gov. John Carney took enact closing week. It doesn't observe to of us which might very neatly be entirely passing through the speak.

Usa today District of Columbia

Washington: Pickup basketball video games. Crowds gathering at an out of doors fish market. Family hikes along trails in Rock Creek Park. The hotter weather is bringing violations of social distance guidelines in the nation’s capital, even as neatly being officers predict the city could turn into notion to be among the following U.S. hot spots in the COVID-19 pandemic. Higher than 1,200 of us beget tested particular, with 22 deaths, in D.C. Nonetheless national and native neatly being officers predict the worst is yet to strategy. Closing week, Mayor Muriel Bowser announced fashions predict the virus would high in the district in Would possibly maybe well well merely or June and close in nearly about 1 in 7 Washington residents contaminated by the close of the year and a excessive-close loss of life toll over 1,000. Dr. Deborah Birx, coordinator of the White Home coronavirus task power, has many times mentioned the District of Columbia as a doable looming hot role, noting that Washington appears to be like to be in the early levels of a now-acquainted pattern: a right on daily basis upward push in reported infections that precedes a huge spike that overloads native neatly being programs.

Usa today Florida

Tallahassee: Stress mounted on Gov. Ron DeSantis on Tuesday to own jobless advantages retroactive as the speak’s newly unemployed persevered to be mired in an unemployment machine riddled with glitches and uncertainty amid the coronavirus outbreak. Amid rampant submitting troubles, it remained unclear how rapid the speak could open up issuing checks to many of of hundreds of Floridians left with out profits thanks to defend-at-dwelling orders and the commercial downturn. Meanwhile, congressional Democrats known as on Gov. Ron DeSantis, a Republican, to lengthen unemployment advantages previous the contemporary 12-week limit and develop the $275-a-week cap, amongst the lowest in the nation. “This mix of low pay and short eligibility is believed to be among the least supported advantages packages in the nation, despite our slightly excessive cost of residing,” mentioned Accumulate. Lois Frankel, a South Florida Democrat.

Usa today Georgia

Atlanta: Gov. Brian Kemp mentioned Wednesday that he’s extending his say for residents to refuge at dwelling through April 30 as the series of coronavirus infections confirmed statewide passed 10,000. Kemp also announced he’s requiring nursing homes and completely different long-term care facilities to connect more to cowl workers and sufferers for symptoms and retain facilities disinfected. He’s also inserting a non everlasting ban on non everlasting commute leases starting Thursday in response to native officers who worry vacationers are flocking to Georgia to visit delivery seashores and parks. “Whereas I’m encouraged by among the major contemporary recordsdata, we quiet beget not doubtless challenges ahead of us,” Kemp mentioned for the length of a recordsdata conference on the speak Capitol. Confirmed deaths rose to 370 in Georgia, in response to figures released Wednesday. Of these, 81 beget strategy in long-term care facilities much like nursing homes. Nearly about 2,100 sufferers total beget now been hospitalized.

Usa today Hawaii

Honolulu: A mayor has a different phrase for a Florida man accused of looking out to flout Hawaii’s traveler quarantine: “covidiot.” Kauai Mayor Derek Kawakami isn’t taking credit for coining the phrase borne out of the COVID-19 pandemic nevertheless mentioned, “I could maybe be the major elected legit to bust it out in public.” The particular person became arrested closing week after police direct he landed on the island with out proof of lodging and “became exhibiting belligerent habits toward airport personnel and toward officers,” police mentioned. Earlier closing week, Kauai police arrested one other Florida man who stopped in Hanalei. A third man, from Washington speak, became arrested and accused of violating the quarantine say, with police announcing he didn’t beget lodging plans in speak. The arrests of three “covidiots” sends a message Kauai is struggling with to present protection to its residents, Kawakami mentioned. The three men beget returned to the mainland, with lend a hand from the Kauai Company Bureau. The expense makes Kawakami upset, nevertheless he mentioned it became indispensable to come by them out of Hawaii, and he plans to send them invoices.

Usa today Idaho

Boise: Gov. Brad Small has ordered the creation of a committee to supervise the speak’s $1.25 billion a part of the $2.2 trillion coronavirus economic rescue bundle authorized by Congress closing month. Small’s budget chief, Alex Adams, will head the 14-member committee announced leisurely Tuesday that's accountable for utilizing the money to present a employ to agencies, neatly being care companies and struggling families for the length of the pandemic. “I will mumble Idahoans that the federal funds could maybe no longer be faded to create contemporary executive packages in Idaho,” Small mentioned in an announcement. The governor’s speak of enterprise mentioned Deliver Controller Brandon Woolf will train where the money is spent on his company’s web page. “Transparency in executive spending is believed to be one of my top doubtless priorities,” Woolf mentioned.

Usa today Illinois

Chicago: A Chicago firefighter who died Tuesday night time from issues of COVID-19 is the major member of the division to be killed by the virus, a spokesman mentioned. Mario Araujo’s loss of life came perfect days after the city’s police division announced Officer Marco DiFranco had turn into its first member to die from issues of the virus. Fire Department spokesman Larry Langford mentioned the 49-year-faded Araujo joined the division in October 2003 and spent most of his profession in the Rogers Park neighborhood on the city’s North Aspect. Langford mentioned that as of Wednesday morning, 48 people of the fireplace division had tested particular for the coronavirus. It wasn’t identified how Araujo lowered in dimension COVID-19, the illness precipitated by the coronavirus, nevertheless Langford mentioned the division and the firefighters union would look at the loss of life to resolve how that is also labeled.

Usa today Indiana

Indianapolis: Whereas you had been questioning whether or not they've the coronavirus nevertheless beget no symptoms, Eli Lilly and Co. is attempting to build up volunteers for a ogle of how many of us in the city descend into that category. Folks drawn to participating needs to be central Indiana residents over age 18 and could no longer beget passed through attempting out for the SARS-CoV-2 virus or experienced any symptoms related to COVID-19, the illness the virus causes. “The importance of asymptomatic carriers as transmitters for viral unfold remains unsure,” Lilly officers mentioned in a recordsdata originate. “As a first-rate step in opposition to view this better, this ogle will track the incidence of asymptomatic infection in the Indianapolis space over time.” Studies beget urged that no longer all individuals who has the virus will make symptoms. Lilly plans to enroll 3,000 of us in the ogle, that could maybe toddle for a restricted time.

Usa today Iowa

Marshalltown: A union leader alleged Tuesday that a huge nursing dwelling for veterans is forcing some workers to work after they were exposed to a colleague who tested particular for coronavirus. AFSCME Council 61 President Danny Homan mentioned the sphere on the Iowa Veterans Dwelling in Marshalltown is potentially placing workers and its greater than 500 residents at threat of infection. Homan mentioned asymptomatic workers were urged Tuesday they had to continue working even in the event that they labored carefully with a one who currently tested particular. He mentioned one employee obtained direction from a health care provider to self-quarantine, nevertheless the residence “refused to practice” that directive. “The speak of Iowa have to act immediately to be sure veterans and the staff who fancy them aren't needlessly exposed,” Homan mentioned. Dwelling Commandant Timon Oujiri mentioned leisurely Tuesday that three workers beget tested particular, including one closing week, and four others await outcomes.

Usa today Kansas

Overland Park: Officials in one Kansas City suburb beget postponed their standard farmers market amid concerns concerning the coronavirus, while one other in Wichita is determined to delivery Saturday. Like grocery stores, farmers markets had been described in defend-at-dwelling orders as “needed agencies” that could continue to operate. Nonetheless city officers in Overland Park announced the markets’ postponed opening Tuesday beneath tension from the public, the Kansas City Superstar experiences. City spokesman Sean Reilly mentioned the farmers market will delivery after Kansas’ defend-at-dwelling say is lifted. Meanwhile, in Wichita, the Kansas Grown Farmers Market Board made up our minds to proceed. Tricia Holmes, the president of the market’s board, mentioned April isn’t as busy for the market. She mentioned extra steps are being taken to retain of us stable, much like spacing booths no longer no longer as much as 10 feet apart and barring distribution of free samples. The first hour will almost definitely be for aged and immunocompromised customers.

Usa today Kentucky

Louisville: Contributors of the Muslim neighborhood beget joined forces to lend a hand the city for the length of the coronavirus pandemic. This COVID-19 response team consists of neighborhood leaders and representatives from completely different language-talking and ethnic demographics in the neighborhood, including the city’s Arab, Indo-Pakistani, Somali, Turkish and Senegambian congregations. The community shaped in early March and delivers goods biweekly. “Our inspiration comes, clearly, from our faith tradition, which puts equal weight and significance on these who beget faith and attach appropriate deeds,” Civic Engagement Committee member Hamza Foy mentioned. Foy mentioned for the explanation that team began, it has supplied meals and hygiene products to larger than 120 families and labored with Louisville Metro Authorities to translate voice material in Arabic, Bosnian, French, Turkish, Urdu, Wolof and completely different languages. It has also partnered with Americana FiberWorks to amass fabric donations to stitch masks for neatly being care companies.

Usa today Louisiana

Contemporary Orleans: A straightforward gift from a bitter political rival – a medical mask emblazoned with Louisiana’s speak seal – has helped Democratic Gov. John Bel Edwards pound dwelling a bipartisan plea for of us to defend at dwelling and retain some distance from spreading the contemporary coronavirus. The token from Republican Authorized legitimate Typical Jeff Landry, along with Landry’s pledge to face “shoulder to shoulder” with Edwards in the war in opposition to the pandemic, marked a jaw-dropping truce in a speak identified for cantankerous politics. The rare say of solidarity comes in an generation of deep political divides nationwide which beget persevered and, in some cases, worsened amid the virus pandemic, even as some call for leaving such disputes apart in desire of working together. And it appears to be like to be having a particular enact: The growth in the series of hospitalized COVID-19 sufferers in Louisiana appears to be like to beget slowed, and the series of sufferers on ventilators became down as of Tuesday afternoon.

Usa today Maine

Augusta: The director of the Maine Center for Illness Set apart a watch on faded his on daily basis briefing Wednesday to thank the speak’s residents for the sacrifices they’ve made while abiding by the governor’s defend-at-dwelling say. Dr. Nirav Shah mentioned he wished to thank “every particular person in Maine for serving to all of us flatten the curve and retain the rest of us stable.” “Nobody thanks you for canceling your child’s birthday occasion. Nobody thanks for postponing your marriage ceremony. Nobody thanks you for no longer going to the lumber. And no person thanks you for primarily altering the diagram in which you check and beget an even time major spiritual holidays. Nonetheless I’d desire to change that on the present time. I’d desire to thank every and each particular person in Maine for the inner most sacrifices that they’ve made,” he mentioned. “Three months ago, who would beget ever notion that by canceling a birthday occasion or a pub inch or a lumber that you would lend a hand put lives? Nonetheless that’s precisely what your actions, or inactions, beget completed.”

Usa today Maryland

Baltimore: A police sergeant is beneath investigation after a video shared on social media appears to be like to say him coughing toward a lady at a public housing complex amid the coronavirus pandemic, officers mentioned Tuesday. The profanity-laced video presentations the sergeant coughing with out covering his mouth as he passes the girl recording it and no longer no longer as much as 2 completely different of us. The girl calls out the officer, who is white, and others open up to sigh. “After staring on the fat video, in its entirety, it is no longer entirely traumatic, nevertheless incomprehensible, critically brooding concerning the excessive-degree of solid and obvious steering that we now beget supplied from the foundation, regarding COVID-19,” Baltimore Police Commissioner Michael Harrison mentioned in an announcement. The video surfaced a day after a Baltimore police location reopened after it became sanitized attributable to an officer tested particular for the contemporary coronavirus, with greater than 90 officers there cleared to technique to work.

Usa today Massachusetts

Boston: A Roman Catholic priest in a parish north of the city is taking pressure-via Holy Week confessions as the devoted combine social distancing and spirituality amid the coronavirus pandemic. The Rev. Brian Mahoney and fellow priests heard confessions this week while seated in the parking zone of the Chelmsford Catholic Collaborative, dwelling to the St. Mary and St. John the Evangelist parishes. Autos pull up next to an orange security cone in front of the priests, who retain a distance of 6 feet from these wishing to confess consistent with social distancing guidelines issued by the Companies for Illness Set apart a watch on and Prevention. “In our times of perfect field, we prefer God,” Mahoney mentioned Monday.

Usa today Michigan

Elk Rapids: A native leader in northern Michigan is deeply worried, announcing sigh in his neighborhood is a much like what’s seen all the diagram in which through the Fourth of July as of us visit second homes and assign older year-spherical residents at threat for the coronavirus. James Janisse, village president in Elk Rapids, entreated Gov. Gretchen Whitmer to bar of us from touring lend a hand and forth to second homes. He’s the latest legit to voice declare a pair of migration to northern Michigan from virus hot spots. Many college districts are on spring spoil. Janisse mentioned propane companies are “overwhelmed” with requests from property homeowners for gasoline. “At any completely different time, this could maybe be reason for celebration, nevertheless appropriate now it is no longer,” he mentioned in a Monday letter to Whitmer. “Folks arriving here aren't self-keeping apart. They are busy in our grocery and hardware stores and gasoline stations, rising threat for our weak population, in a county and not utilizing a ICU beds and restricted regional medical property.”

Usa today Minnesota

St. Paul: Nurses at United Sanatorium are eager that they’ve been asked to in my opinion spruce their own scrubs, placing them and their families at undue threat. Emergency room nurse Cliff Willmeng mentioned they wants in reveal to sigh neatly being facility-issued scrubs so that they don’t wish to build up their inner most clothes dwelling, which could maybe raise COVID-19 germs. Willmeng urged the St. Paul Pioneer Press that it’s a “obvious place of work security field.” He mentioned the ER has seen a huge develop in the series of sufferers with suspected coronavirus this week, when it became at strategy-ability. Allina Health, which runs United Sanatorium, issued an announcement announcing it’s following insurance policies and practices advised by infection protection consultants. The Companies for Illness Set apart a watch on and Prevention has advised that disposable gloves needs to be faded when doing laundry at dwelling for a sick particular person, that clothes can beget to quiet no longer be shaken and that hampers needs to be disinfected later on.

Usa today Mississippi

Moss Point: The mayor says his on-line assembly became hacked with vulgar and racist words and photos thanks to his contemporary feedback concerning the contemporary coronavirus in his city. Moss Point Mayor Mario King became leading a board of aldermen assembly Tuesday night time on Zoom when someone interrupted the on-line gathering, which the mayor became also streaming on Fb Are residing, recordsdata outlets train. The assembly became ended, and the mayor did a separate Fb Are residing, lasting nearly about an hour, addressing the hack. King mentioned this became no longer a recent skills for him attributable to he usually receives racist messages. The mayor has been an outspoken critic of the speak’s and Gov. Tate Reeves’ response to the COVID-19 pandemic. African People epic for greater than half of Mississippi’s coronavirus cases and deaths, in response to speak epidemiologist Dr. Paul Byers, nevertheless they own up entirely about 38% of the speak’s population.

Usa today Missouri

O’Fallon: The close elected legit in the speak’s perfect county is attempting to build up lend a hand from the Missouri National Guard in preparation for an anticipated surge in coronavirus-related hospitalizations. Democratic St. Louis County Govt Sam Page mentioned in an announcement Wednesday that the National Guard “can play a serious purpose” in transporting sufferers and affords, which might liberate neatly being care workers to residence treating of us. Leaders of the St. Louis Metropolitan Pandemic Assignment Power, made up of the speak’s perfect hospitals, mentioned the close of the pandemic in the St. Louis space is anticipated to happen in two to a pair weeks. Meanwhile, in neighboring St. Charles County, a recent outbreak became reported at a psychiatric neatly being facility. St. Charles County officers direct 20 workers people and three sufferers at CenterPointe Sanatorium beget tested particular. CenterPointe Medical Director Azfar Malik mentioned admissions were halted March 29 nevertheless will resume after thorough disinfecting.

Usa today Montana

Helena: Gov. Steve Bullock has prolonged the speak’s defend-at-dwelling say, college closures and enterprise restrictions through April 24 in a power effort to discontinue the unfold of the coronavirus, while the Department of Justice confirmed Tuesday what is believed to be the major particular COVID-19 case in a reformatory inmate. Bullock also prolonged his completely different directives Tuesday, including restrictions for on-premises meals and beverage agencies; a prohibition of gatherings larger than 10 of us; shopper protections in opposition to evictions and the cancellation of utilities; and a power of a indispensable 14-day quarantine for of us getting into the speak on non-work-related commute. “For every particular person we accumulate out of the chain of transmission of this virus, the more doubtless our neatly being care facilities can take care of the ability to answer, and the more doubtless we can thrust lend a hand this virus sooner rather then later,” Bullock mentioned.

Usa today Nebraska

Lincoln: Officials are eager the closure of colleges, neatly-liked job losses and social isolation could maybe be utilizing an uptick in child abuse cases, the speak’s child welfare administrator mentioned Tuesday. Stephanie Beasley, director of Nebraska’s Small one and Family Companies Division, mentioned the coronavirus pandemic is placing a first-rate tension on the families her company serves. Beasley mentioned the pandemic is making it more subtle for teenagers to come by social companies and for of us to come by substance abuse medication and counseling. Statewide college closures beget also saved kids at dwelling and some distance from lecturers, who're amongst the maybe to scrutinize and train signs of abuse, she mentioned. “These stressors can create a recipe for child abuse and neglect,” Beasley mentioned at a press conference with Gov. Pete Ricketts. Beasley mentioned the speak’s child abuse hotline has seen a descend in calls, doubtless attributable to fewer of us are reporting abuse.

Usa today Nevada

Las Vegas: Gov. Steve Sisolak says the speak has obtained some ingredients from the federal executive to own more check kits for the coronavirus nevertheless doesn't beget wherever strategy the affords wished to look at broadly. Amid a nationwide shortage of check kits, the U.S. executive has urged Nevada its three pending requests for more kits are on an “indefinite backlog,” in response to speak officers. Sisolak mentioned the speak obtained 3,000 kits of the chemical substances wished and 4,000 swabs from the U.S. executive, which speak neatly being labs are utilizing with completely different affords to assemble check kits as immediate they might be able to, nevertheless it’s no longer ample. “Whereas we admire no topic attempting out ingredients we come by from the federal executive, at the moment,” the Democratic governor mentioned, the affords thus some distance “aren't nearly concerning the amount indispensable for us to impact the specified quantity of attempting out that we prefer and our voters prefer.”

Usa today Contemporary Hampshire

Harmony: Deliver officers will field steering soon on the coronavirus pandemic’s impact on speak elections, Gov. Chris Sununu mentioned Wednesday. Govt Councilor Deborah Pignatelli, D-Nashua, urged Sununu she needs to hear from Secretary of Deliver Invoice Gardner concerning the speak’s main elections in September and the November total election, including whether voting by mail is an option. Sununu mentioned speak election legislation doesn’t descend beneath the council’s purview. Meanwhile, legislative leaders are trying to divulge their authority over spending federal money distributed in response to the pandemic. Sununu mentioned Tuesday he'll create “a bipartisan legislative advisory board” to own obvious input and transparency. Home Speaker Steve Shurtleff and Senate President Donna Soucy, each Democrats, spoke back by reminding him that speak legislation expressly requires that the Legislature’s joint fiscal committee approves any expenditures for the length of an emergency.

Usa today Contemporary Jersey

Trenton: A pizzeria that drew popularity of borrowing carefully to retain its workers on the payroll for the length of the virus outbreak has in short closed its doors. Federico’s in Belmar touched off a wave of pay-it-ahead donations for these struggling with the outbreak, including neatly being facility workers, police, firefighters and emergency medical workers. Its two homeowners took out a $50,000 line of credit to retain their 20 workers on the payroll for on the very least two months. Nonetheless in a Fb submit Monday, Federico’s operators mentioned, “We're going to accumulate a diagram to be in short closing our doors in say to retain our workers, families and clients stable.” Closing month, the homeowners mentioned the borrowed funds could maybe be faded to pay workers in the match of a non everlasting shutdown. They confirmed Tuesday they're going to retain their workers on the payroll as promised.

Usa today Contemporary Mexico

Santa Fe: Coronavirus cases beget surged in central and northwestern Contemporary Mexico as the illness takes a stronger defend on two Native American pueblo communities and a retirement dwelling, officers mentioned Tuesday. The Contemporary Mexico Department of Health reported one contemporary loss of life related to COVID-19 appealing a particular person in his 30s with underlying neatly being issues. The speak has nearly about 800 infections. Cases climbed to no longer no longer as much as 52 in San Felipe Pueblo, a neighborhood of two,200 of us. At Zia Pueblo, there were no longer no longer as much as 31 cases. Meanwhile, speak labor officers took contemporary steps to mosey the distribution of unemployment advantages to tens of hundreds of residents who had been left with out work by the statewide public neatly being emergency that closed many nonessential agencies. Unemployment call centers in short prolonged hours from 7 a.m. to 7 p.m. for the rest of the week, even though residents were quiet encouraged to file claims on-line.

Usa today Contemporary York

Contemporary York: Mayor Invoice de Blasio acknowledged Wednesday that the city’s legit coronavirus statistics beget overlooked many of of of us that died at dwelling with out ever being tested for the virus and mentioned the city would open up including such victims in its COVID-19 tally. “The blunt truth is coronavirus is utilizing these very tragic deaths,” de Blasio mentioned on CNN’s “Contemporary Day.” “We’re no longer talking about, , 10 of us, 20 of us. We’re talking about something fancy 100, 200 of us per day.” Town’s Fire Department has recorded as many as 200 deaths at dwelling on daily basis in contemporary weeks, some distance greater than the everyday 25 deaths at dwelling earlier than the pandemic. City neatly being officers reported 3,544 deaths from COVID-19 as of leisurely Tuesday, a number that entails entirely of us that were tested and found to had been contaminated with the coronavirus and no longer these who died at dwelling with out a check.

Usa today North Carolina

Raleigh: Day care workers and the families of first responders and completely different needed workers who need child care entry for the length of the COVID-19 disaster are getting financial lend a hand from the speak executive. The Division of Health and Human Companies announced neatly being facility, police and emergency workers and others required to work out of doors their homes can now come by emergency child care subsidies from the speak. Applicants have to meet profits restrictions and speak that they've no different child care alternatives. The division also announced workers in child care centers staying delivery to defend up these kids will look April and Would possibly maybe well well merely pay raises of $200 or $300 a month, reckoning on their put. “We would like to be obvious that child care lecturers and packages beget give a employ to in providing stable, quality care,” DHHS Secretary Mandy Cohen mentioned in a originate.

Usa today North Dakota

Fargo: A Microsoft engineer who designed an app to track North Dakota Deliver University football fans on their annual skedaddle to Texas for the national championship has taken that idea and applied it to contact tracing for the coronavirus. The Care19 app is supposed to lend a hand slash back the unfold of COVID-19 by retracing the steps of of us that check particular for the virus, in say to build up others who will beget had contact with the sick particular person and likewise obtain recordsdata to lend a hand with modeling, Gov. Doug Burgum mentioned Tuesday for the length of his on daily basis briefing. “That is a technique that every North Dakotan can put lives by downloading the Care19 app,” Burgum mentioned. Tim Brookins, 55, a first-rate utility engineer at Fargo’s Microsoft campus and CEO of sports activities app utility firm ProudCrowd, came up with the standard Bison Tracker app a half-dozen years ago. The contemporary Care19 app is free and optional. It is some distance nameless and doesn’t quiz for names, telephone numbers or log-in recordsdata.

Usa today Ohio

Columbus: The course of is underway for a restricted originate of some prisoners to lend a hand provide room for social distancing. The good over 200 prisoners comprise pregnant inmates or females with kids with them gradual bars, inmates over 60, and prisoners eligible for early originate attributable to their sentences are nearly about completed. No violent or sex offenders could maybe be released, nor would inmates with dejected penal complex recordsdata or domestic violence convictions, or these who were beforehand imprisoned. Ohio homes about 49,000 inmates. Across the speak, 14 inmates had tested particular as of Tuesday, most at Marion and Pickaway correctional facilities. No no longer as much as 27 workers people at four prisons beget tested particular, nevertheless most at Marion, speak officers mentioned. Five of the 28 prisons for the time being are beneath fat quarantine.

Usa today Oklahoma

Oklahoma City: Gov. Kevin Stitt on Tuesday every other time known as for more residents to be tested for the coronavirus while announcing the speak has an huge stockpile of inner most protection equipment for medical workers and others who treat contaminated sufferers. Speaking at a warehouse that speak officers mentioned holds hundreds and hundreds of protective gloves and hundreds of surgical masks, face shields and respirators, Stitt mentioned anybody with symptoms of coughing, shortness of breath, and a fever of 100.4 levels or above needs to be tested to form an correct image of the virus’s unfold in Oklahoma. “We beget got plenty of assessments in the speak,” Collected mentioned, six days after first calling for more of us to be tested. He infamous that the speak has 60 attempting out locations.

Usa today Oregon

Portland: Gov. Kate Brown prolonged an say Tuesday prohibiting dine-in service at restaurants and bars. Her usual say banning dine-in service became put of residing to toddle out next week nevertheless now aligns along with her Set apart Dwelling, Put Lives say. Both will dwell in enact unless lifted by Brown. Firms can continue takeout or delivery service. “All of us wish to technique to a day where we can frequent the restaurants and agencies which beget given Oregon its in actual fact-earned culinary reputation and supplied so many roles,” Brown mentioned in a recordsdata originate. “Nonetheless it will maybe maybe be irresponsible to employ these restrictions in the center of this outbreak.” Brown also mentioned her COVID-19 Medical Advisory Panel met for the major time Tuesday. The panel of doctors, infectious illness consultants and completely different medical professionals will meet twice a week and has been asked to touch upon the wants of Oregon’s neatly being care machine, provide advice to the governor, and lend a hand as a handy resource to the Oregon Health Authority.

Usa today Pennsylvania

Harrisburg: Deliver emergency administration officers will almost definitely be accredited to commandeer N95 face masks, ventilators and completely different indispensable medical equipment for sigh in the war in opposition to COVID-19 beneath an say signed Wednesday by Gov. Tom Wolf. The say mandates that non-public and public neatly being care facilities, producers and completely different companies tabulate their affords of inner most protective equipment, medication and completely different medical equipment, then provide a list to the Pennsylvania Emergency Administration Agency within 5 days. PEMA will own the affords on hand to areas of the speak hit hardest by the coronavirus pandemic, Wolf’s say mentioned, and that's also as much as speak agencies to repay the entities from which the equipment became taken. “Combatting a pandemic diagram all of us wish to work together and that diagram we would favor to own the finest sigh of our medical property to own obvious the locations that need them most beget them,” Wolf mentioned in an announcement.

Usa today Rhode Island

Windfall: The speak’s legal legitimate total says police can file criminal prices in opposition to landlords who wrongfully evict tenants for the length of the coronavirus pandemic. The legal legitimate total’s speak of enterprise says it has obtained a increasing series of complaints about landlords who're forcing tenants to recede, barring entry to properties or removal utilities with out court docket permission. Landlords are required to come by a court docket say to evict tenants, nevertheless the speak has suspended most court docket lawsuits unless April 17, effectively barring contemporary evictions. Authorized legitimate Typical Peter Neronha mentioned that while the sphere could maybe be nerve-racking for landlords who're owed money, it “doesn't point out that they might be able to merely ignore the legislation and accumulate matters into their own arms.” His speak of enterprise urged police that landlords could maybe additionally be charged with trespassing in the event that they enter a tenant’s property with out permission, and they could additionally be charged with vandalism if a tenant’s assets are broken while being eradicated.

Usa today South Carolina

Columbia: Coroners are asking the speak’s high lawyer whether or not they wish to originate the names of of us that die thanks to COVID-19 to the public. York County Coroner Sabrina Gast sent a letter to Authorized legitimate Typical Alan Wilson asking for his speak of enterprise’s appropriate view on whether the identical old recordsdata a coroner releases in an uncommon loss of life – names, ages and locations – needs to be released in COVID-19 deaths. “Extra usually than no longer, natural deaths are of no passion to media, nevertheless, that you might factor in that in our contemporary atmosphere, the media is terribly fervent. Our declare grows out of security of the families left gradual,” Gast wrote in her letter on behalf of the South Carolina Coroners Affiliation. Wilson’s speak of enterprise has no longer published an view yet, spokesman Robert Kittle mentioned in an electronic mail Tuesday.

Usa today South Dakota

Sioux Falls: Deliver neatly being officers reported the perfect day-to-day leap in confirmed coronavirus cases Wednesday as 73 more of us tested particular. South Dakota has tallied 393 confirmed cases, with 146 of these of us reporting they've recovered. Six of us in total beget died from COVID-19, while 26 beget required hospitalization. Minnehaha County, the speak’s most-populated space, accounted for a whole lot of the cases. The Oglala Sioux Tribe says it has instituted a 72-hour lockdown on the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation quickly after a college employee tested particular for the coronavirus. It became the major confirmed case of COVID-19 on the reservation. The tribe is entirely allowing commute for needed jobs, medical appointments and emergency grocery runs. The tribe threatened that of us will almost definitely be fined in the event that they're found to be touring for nonessential reasons. Officials are also monitoring the borders of the reservation.

Usa today Tennessee

Memphis: FedEx Swear helps the U.S. executive expedite shipments of protective equipment and completely different wished affords as segment of its COVID-19 reduction efforts. The Memphis-primarily based entirely air cargo huge announced Wednesday that it delivered its first shipments as segment of Mission Airbridge, a federal executive-managed public-non-public partnership. The equipment carried by FedEx’s hastily of airplane will almost definitely be distributed to neatly being care facilities and workers struggling with the COVID-19 pandemic. FedEx has a contract with the Department of Health and Human Companies to ship inner most protective equipment from producers worldwide to the United States. FedEx mentioned it coordinated with DuPont this week for two shipments of greater than 450,000 Tyvek protective fits from Vietnam to Texas, and the 2 are planning to ship greater than half a million fits weekly. FedEx will be working flights from China to Illinois containing PPE for Medline Industries.

Usa today Texas

Dallas: Two speak prisons had been locked down to behind the unfold of the coronavirus, while inmates at completely different facilities are making masks to war the pandemic. Nearly about 1,000 of us had been confined to their cells on medical restriction on the Rufe Jordan Unit, in the Texas Panhandle, along with greater than 1,100 on the Dr. Lane Murray Unit, in response to the Texas Department of Criminal Justice. As of Monday, one particular person had tested particular for COVID-19 at Jordan and four at Murray, a females’s penal complex about 100 miles north of Austin. Inmates in 10 completely different Texas penal complex factories are making cotton masks that workers and prisoners can wear to lend a hand slash back the unfold of the virus, in response to the division. About 50,000 masks had been distributed from penal complex factories that in total originate sneakers, clothes, mattresses and furniture.

Usa today Utah

Salt Lake City: Bryce Canyon National Park in southern Utah grew to turn into the latest park to shut its gates to discontinue the unfold of the coronavirus. The continued drift of holiday makers to the park infamous for its spire-shaped red rock formations identified as hoodoos made it subtle to retain lawful social distancing, park Superintendent Linda Mazzu mentioned. She made the resolution with the backing of Inner Secretary David Bernhardt and Garfield County commissioners, her recordsdata originate mentioned. Capitol Reef National Park remains the closing of Utah’s 5 national parks quiet delivery, nevertheless its scenic pressure and campgrounds are closed. Zion, Arches and Canyonlands national parks are already closed after they heeded requests from native executive and neatly being officers. In mid-March, Bernhardt announced he would waive entrance prices to own it more straightforward for of us to come by pleasure from out of doors areas.

Usa today Vermont

Montpelier: Gov. Phil Scott mentioned Wednesday that he plans to lengthen his defend-at-dwelling say for Vermonters, which has been in speak for two weeks. “Your sacrifices are having an impact,” he mentioned for the length of a media briefing. “Staying dwelling, washing your arms, warding off contact – these steps are truly saving lives.” Vermont had a total of 605 confirmed cases, and 23 of us beget died of COVID-19, Health Commissioner Dr. Brand Levine mentioned Wednesday. The speak’s perfect outbreaks had been at two Burlington nursing homes. Burlington Health and Rehab and Birchwood Terrace Rehab and Healthcare beget had a total of 120 cases in sufferers and workers, he mentioned. Meanwhile, the Vermont Senate met Wednesday on the Statehouse and authorized some distance-off voting. Sixteen out of 30 people attended and wore masks and completely different face coverings for the length of the session.

Usa today Virginia

Richmond: Gov. Ralph Northam plans to prolong some long-sought Democratic priorities unless more is identified concerning the pandemic’s enact on the economic system, pushing lend a hand choices on whether to present lecturers and speak workers raises, freeze in-speak college tuition, and put into effect completely different contemporary spending in a budget currently passed by lawmakers. Clark Mercer, the governor’s chief of workers, mentioned Tuesday that too exiguous is identified concerning the impact of the coronavirus outbreak on speak revenues to transfer ahead now with billions of bucks in contemporary spending, much of which might raise over into future years. He mentioned the governor, a Democrat, is vulnerable to position a question to a budget reforecast this summer season earlier than calling lawmakers lend a hand into a particular session to alter spending priorities primarily based entirely on contemporary numbers. The pandemic is pounding speak governments nationwide with a one-two punch, costing them hundreds and hundreds in containment efforts perfect as agencies shut down and tax earnings collapses.

Usa today Washington

Seattle: Gov. Jay Inslee says the Legislature could have to be known as lend a hand for a particular session thanks to the coronavirus outbreak. The Legislature isn’t scheduled to strategy unless next January, nevertheless Inslee mentioned it became doable lawmakers will beget to strategy, “given the extent of the commercial spoil that we now beget suffered.” He mentioned the timing of that's unsure. He infamous that the speak had already dispersed $120 million from $200 million the Legislature distributed to COVID-19 response earlier than adjourning closing month. Inslee also announced the speak is opening up an application course of for grants that will provide as much as $10,000 for agencies with as much as 10 workers. Firms can sigh the money to pay lease, utility bills, affords and completely different working charges. Firms can observe at coronavirus.wa.gov.

Usa today West Virginia

Charleston: Kanawha County staffers on the front lines of the coronavirus response are getting pay raises. The Kanawha County Commission authorized a $4-per-hour “hero pay” develop for first responders and completely different county workers, retroactive to March 15. “That is a technique for us to say our appreciate and gratitude,” Commissioner Ben Salango mentioned Tuesday. The say entails “deputy sheriffs, prosecuting attorneys, emergency managers, custodians, upkeep workers, circuit clerks, county clerks, sheriff’s tax, and all others who're risking inner most neatly being and security for the length of this unheard of pandemic.” The non everlasting pay raises will discontinue when the speak of emergency ends or when the county rate cancels the program. Kanawha County has the most cases in the speak, and not utilizing a longer no longer as much as 69 of us attempting out particular, and outbreaks in no longer no longer as much as 2 nursing homes.

Usa today Wisconsin

Madison: University Sanatorium will join a national effort to transfuse antibodies from the plasma of of us that recovered from the coronavirus to treat sufferers quiet struggling with it. The technique is a century-faded medication faded to war off flu and measles outbreaks in the times earlier than vaccines and has been tried more currently in opposition to SARS and Ebola. With out a authorized medication for COVID-19 and greater than 11,000 deaths in the U.S., the unproven diagram affords some hope in opposition to COVID-19. As of Tuesday night time, Wisconsin reported greater than 2,500 coronavirus infections and 92 related deaths – 49 of them in Milwaukee County. “We know that antibody has neutralized the virus in one particular person,” mentioned Dr. William Hartman, a UW Health anesthesiologist heading up the difficulty at UW Sanatorium, which is segment of a national ogle. “We purchase that the antibody will neutralize the virus in one other particular person. It’s an extra enhance to lend a hand war off the infection.”

Usa today Wyoming

Cheyenne: Deliver elections officers direct they've no plans to transfer the date of the major election in August nevertheless are solutions to present protection to voters and ballotemployees from the coronavirus. One option could maybe be to prepare for more absentee voting. Wyoming has a bonus in contrast with completely different states attributable to its main isn’t unless Aug. 18, secretary of speak spokesman Will Dinneen urged the Wyoming Tribune Eagle. “With that being mentioned, we’re aspects of this immediate-transferring field with COVID-19 to present protection to voters, ballotemployees and county workers, and in reveal to answer nimbly as we transfer ahead to that date,” Dinneen mentioned. Deliver officers are engaged on a knowing to own larger absentee voting to anybody who prefers that option, Dinneen mentioned. Widespread absentee voting could change how candidates campaign. Deliver legislation requires absentee ballots to be mailed 45 days earlier than the major.

From USA TODAY Network and wire experiences

Learn or Portion this epic: https://www.usatoday.com/epic/recordsdata/50-states/2020/04/09/covidiots-dinky-victories-tracking-app-recordsdata-around-states/111527416/

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Adam Zaars (Tribulation) interviewed 2013

I’m trying to put a finger on The Formulas of Death, but I can’t. Was the intention to make an album that’s hard to fit into one easy category? Adam Zaars: No, that wasn’t the intention, but I’m not surprised to hear the question. The intention was just to create flowing music. It would have been hard not to do it in the way we did it, we just let it happen. We didn’t have an agenda to stir the pot or anything, although it seems now that we did.

My initial impression is that it’s a bit of a time-span record. There are bits from the ‘70s, ‘80s, and ‘90s throughout the soundscape. What was it like writing music for The Formulas of Death? Adam Zaars: We take inspiration for the atmosphere and the song and riff structures from anywhere, so I’m not surprised to hear that either. I know I just said that it was easy to write the album, but it also took time. We always waited for the music to come to us rather than trying to force things out. Trying to make sense of everything was at times a bit confusing, but in the end I think we managed to do just that, I think the music is very coherent.

I mean, I notice all kinds of things happening on the record. Like “Spectres” could be a descendent of Unanimated, but then you throw in the black metal reggae part at 2:36. “Rånda” has that old Opeth bounce. “Spell” has that old Bathory peel to it. Are purposefully referencing the music that you like? Adam Zaars: No, we are not and we always get compared to bands that we don’t listen to (except from Bathory in this case). I still don’t get that reggae thing either. I think that’s a narrow-minded comparison, or maybe I’m just so far removed from that genre that I just don’t hear it. I hear we have disco beats in the album as well. I mean, come on, are people so imbedded in their own cultural pattern that they can’t even take a beat for what it is? It’s a beat! It’s got nothing to do with any style of music, it’s just a beat. Listen again, and forget what you have heard before. I know that can be hard, but I really think those beats on our album are just there for the right reasons and we certainly didn’t put them there to be outlandish or anything, you know.

What role do the instrumentals play? Each one is vastly different from the other. Adam Zaars: The whole album could have been instrumental really. Instrumental music has that 'free' way that I was just mentioning, it can just flow freely and that’s an inspiring thing to me. "Laylah" and "Ultra Silvam" were originally intended to be one song, but it turned out that we needed to make two! I don’t know why really, we don’t really analyze it while we do it, we just go with what feels like the right way.

I’m curious where the inspiration to “Ultra Silvam” came from. I know it’s an old term for Transylvania, but the song’s not creepy or dark. It’s more of a groove, shake your money maker-kind of thing. Adam Zaars: It’s a beautiful area with a lot of history and myth that relates to the band to a certain extent. That said the title is a metaphor rather than a hymn to a piece of land. And I have to say that to me that song is very dark. I think it has got a lot of what I would call Swedish darkness in it. I always start humming on other old Swedish songs when I have listened to it, songs that are dark and somber yet beautiful to me. It’s all in the eye (ear) of the beholder I guess, and this time it might be my cultural background that getting me to that conclusion, although I have a feeling that it isn’t.

Back in 2009, you told me Morbid Angel’s Altars of Madness was tops. Do you have movie soundtracks or scores that you feel are exemplary and, as such, part of Tribulation’s fabric? Adam Zaars: It still is! In particular the (Herzog’s) Nosferatu and Suspiria scores.

Was it important to keep things aggressive? For all the experimentation and curveballs, The Formulas of Death is still very much a death metal record. Adam Zaars: Our music is emotional to us and it carries a range of emotions to us, and aggression is a strong emotion hence it’s not surprising to me that it’s still in there. Again, we really just did it without too much analyzing, we didn’t go, "We should really have an aggressive one as well." Because of the time it took to get the right feel of everything I’m not surprised to hear that people have so many different thoughts about it and feel so many things about it. It’s varied, I guess.

What is death metal in your eyes? Adam Zaars: If I could name one album that is death metal to me I would say Covenant. But that’s not all there is to it, of course. I never really listened that much to death metal, except for the albums and bands that really stood out, and they were always so good, like Morbid Angel. When death metal isn’t creative it might be the dullest genre there is. I have more patience with old heavy metal bands than I do with death metal bands, because it seems like it’s very hard to make anything at all that’s the least interesting. To me that is. I don’t really care to be honest. Good music is good music, bad music is bad music. It’s obvious isn’t it? I don’t get why you have to be loyal to a certain something that someone once upon a time made up. We weren’t there; there is no nostalgia in it for us. Genres seem like a good thing for journalists, something that makes their job a bit easier, and for people that make documentaries about music and for people that have to fit in to a, again, certain something that someone made up.

Lyrically, where are you taking the reader? There are all kinds curious things. The intro title, “Vagina Dentata,” for example. The Hebrew titled, “Night.” Or, the Lovecraftian “Wanderer In The Outer Darkness.” Adam Zaars: The lyrics are personal and purposefully dark, obviously. They are metaphors and they are literal. I don’t want to get into too much detail since I find it nice to hear that people really make up their own minds about what they are about and that doesn’t really matter to me since I know what they mean to me. "Vagina Dentata" doesn’t mean what most people think about when hearing the title, it’s about a passage way and an opening, an initiation. That’s mostly what the rest of the album is about as well. It’s about spiritual death and rebirth and about becoming. The Hebrew title paints a picture for people that don’t know Hebrew, it’s a beautiful set of letters isn’t it? For the people who do know their Hebrew it might have even more depth and suggestions.

Would you say the lyrics are tied into your spiritual outlook? Adam Zaars: Yes, they are. They are a part of it, the music is as well. I would say that it’s the output of a spiritual life. They don’t fully reveal it, that’s for sure, but I find spirituality and creativity very much intertwined. I can almost go as far as saying that I couldn’t be creative and stand for what has been done if it wasn’t. Art is spiritual for me, and to us what we do is art. 

Describe your spiritual outlook. It’s not like it’s obvious as Glen Benton’s burned-in forehead cross. Adam Zaars: What is he? An inverted non-spiritual Christian? I don’t know the guy. It’s quite difficult to make sense of my views in a short space like this because I can never say a thing like “I’m a Satanist and I follow these rules,” or “I’m a Shaivite and my heart strives for union with the blabla” mainly because I find it hard to put a name to it as easy as that. I mean, except for the superficial namedropping and attitudes towards life there isn’t that much difference between the goals of a Western Satanist and a Hindu ascetic. It’s a quest for the ending of the life-cycle and either a union with something you put a name to or a dissolution from whatever it is you put a name to. Some may argue, of course, but I look at it from a wider angle. At the same time I’m not saying that certain names are not important, they certainly are, but I think it’s the intent and the belief and the will and maybe even the history behind it that is very important. My spiritual outlook isn’t tied to any religion, but I do find what could be called Indian philosophy appealing, maybe because of its vast variety, but it’s also based in Western as well as “new world” thoughts and ideas. I think pretty much all religions could be useful as long as you know how to approach them and as long as you see all the external bullshit, I also think that many religions can be useful if you fully embrace them. Paradoxes are always a part of spirituality, I guess. In a western environment I have always found the “left hand side” of things more attractive and I would probably be called superstitious. It derives from both faith and experience with an emphasis on the latter.

Where’d the cover idea come from? Kind of reminds me of a dark post-punk album cover. Like something The Chameleons might’ve done after Script of the Bridge. Adam Zaars: Funny thing, I just heard The Chameleons last week actually, maybe a bit too "nice" for me. The cover was drawn by Jonathan, the guitar player, and the original image he made it from is from an old fin de siècle magazine. I find it perfect for the album really, we couldn’t have used anything else. I like how it has this uncertainty to it that I think the album has as well. It’s folkloristic in a way that is in accordance with the album. It has got that dark old fear of the unknown that still lingers in man, it’s also very sensual and it has a divine quality to it as well. Not that farfetched, I guess.

It was done at Necromorbus Studios, correct? It’s probably the best recording to come out of the studio. I feels vintage but not detrimentally so. Adam Zaars: We needed the freedom of having a lot of time and we needed to do it in an environment that was nothing like a big city where we could make the studio into our own. We did the drums in Necromorbus (Tore also did the mixing and mastering), then we relocated to our home town in the western parts of Sweden to do the rest with Jonas Wikstrand. We had two rooms and pretty much rearranged them completely into what felt comfortable for us. It was an inspiring time, I never really wanted to leave the studio. It was great working with both guys really, and I am really pleased with what they both contributed.

As for current happenings, what did drummer Jakob Ljungberg bring to the table? I like his switch between hard rock pounder and progressive rock creativeness. Adam Zaars: It’s great playing with him, he’s a great addition in a lot of ways. We’ve know each other since we were kids and we have always played together, so to have him in the band is great. He adds his kind of drumming which isn’t the typical death metal way of drumming and that’s exactly what we needed.

Alright, final question. Plans for 2013? Domination or sit quietly back and let the music do the talking? Adam Zaars: We have plans. Hopefully we can make them happen!

[cutsliceddiced]

New top story from Time: Cooking In Quarantine With Top Chef Host Padma Lakshmi Means Tasting Many Nations

Once quotidian aspects of our lives can now feel like high-concept challenges thought up by malicious reality TV show producers. Dating without being able to touch is akin to Love Is Blind. Jockeying for the last few canned goods at the grocery store compares to Supermarket Sweep. And trying to cook over Zoom video chat with Padma Lakshmi feels like a Quickfire Challenge on Top Chef, the Emmy-winning reality show that Lakshmi has hosted for more than a decade.

That show is airing a highly anticipated all-star season right now, featuring the best competitors from years past. But rather than promoting the series, Lakshmi is stuck in her house like the rest of us. She’s been filling her time filming popular home-cooking Instagram videos with her daughter. “Television fetishizes food,” says Lakshmi. “We love to linger on these shots of Kobe beef. This moment will hopefully be a return to home cooking. Beans are looking pretty sexy now, huh?”

I want to cook with Lakshmi over Zoom, but coordinating our ingredients is an impossible task: in New York, grocery deliveries must be ordered days in advance, and even then some foods will be out of stock. So I watch Lakshmi cook, take copious notes and later try to replicate the results at home.

The pandemic is driving people inside and into their kitchens. Google searches for online cooking classes shot up by a factor of 15 from mid-February to mid-April. A recent survey from marketing firm Hunter found that 54% of people are cooking more than before the pandemic, and 75% say they feel more confident in the kitchen. Just over half of the people surveyed said they plan to cook more at home even once social distancing ends. For proof, look no further than social media, where home cooks are nursing their sourdough starters as tenderly as newborns and exchanging tips on how to grow a new stalk of scallions from old bulbs in a jar.

The newfound interest in home cooking has been driven by boredom and necessity. But in times of uncertainty, we find ourselves increasingly drawn to the certainties of cooking in a moment of chaos: it is a concrete truth that if I see bubbles in the pancake batter, it’s time to flip the pancake.

Lakshmi, too, has found a sense of control during quarantine: she can have direct contact with her fans, without the typical filter of Hollywood. Her quarantine persona is far more casual than the polished host Top Chef fans usually see. On the show, she never seems to spill sauce on her immaculate jumpsuits, and her poker face while tasting food has been known to send contestants into a panic. But at home, she cooks in her pajamas, sometimes without a bra, which caused a minor stir on Twitter. Lakshmi responded cheekily by layering two bras on top of each other for her next video. “I wore a bra for this Zoom call,” she tells me, laughing. Overall, though, the response to her videos has been positive. “Cooking in a ratty T-shirt, which is obviously very different than how I appear on television, has given me this confidence that I’m in charge of my own destiny,” she says.

For our socially distant cooking lesson, Lakshmi chooses a vegetarian dish involving butternut squash, green peppers, ginger, chilies, curry leaves and a handful of spices like cumin and mustard seed that evoke Indian flavors. Her kitchen is admittedly much bigger than mine, and at one point she tests out a pricey gift from a friend: a chain-mail glove designed to prevent cuts, though it proves bad for gripping peppers. “I knew it was too good to be true,” she says, tossing it aside. But as promised, the dish is easy to replicate. In fact, it’s so simple that I’m skeptical of the results until I taste it and realize the work the spices are doing to elevate the squash.

Lakshmi has seized this moment to evangelize about Indian flavors. The cuisine, she says, hasn’t pervaded the U.S. food scene yet, like it has in Britain, where the Indian population is larger. “Indian culture does have small moments in weird places. Like, Madonna is into yoga, so we all get into yoga,” Lakshmi says. “And I see on Instagram that everyone is using turmeric [in their recipes] now? Stuff like that makes me laugh. My bullsh-t meter goes off.” Lakshmi predicts Indian food will become increasingly popular across the globe as we all inch closer to vegetarianism to stay healthy and limit our environmental impact. When she’s not judging on Top Chef, she consumes a mostly vegan diet.

A self-described “latchkey kid,” Lakshmi learned to cook early. Born in Delhi, she lived with her grandparents for a spell during her early childhood until her mother–who had left a toxic relationship with her father and immigrated to New York City on a nurse’s visa–brought her to Elmhurst, Queens, at age 4. Lakshmi has chronicled a history with adversity: a sexual assault as a child and, as an adult, suffering debilitating pain from undiagnosed endometriosis. Cooking consistently served as a refuge.

She established her bona fides: before Top Chef, she hosted a show on the Food Network, and she has since published two cookbooks, plus a food-focused memoir titled Love, Loss, and What We Ate. But people have selective memories and often focus on a few other biographical details: that she began her time in the public eye as a model, then as Salman Rushdie’s wife, then as a woman who tasted food on TV but didn’t cook on it. She struggled to be taken seriously as a food writer. “I am a brown woman on TV working in a country where a lot of people don’t consider me American because of my funny name or the way I look,” she says. “I spent a lot of my career trying to fit in, to be what the toothpaste audition or lingerie catalog wanted. At this point, I’m sick of trying to make everybody happy.”

As she has been mulling her priorities in quarantine–“I need to say no to more things”–leveraging her new connection with fans to advocate for the immigrant experience has risen to the top of the list. Three years ago, she conceived of a show in which she would visit immigrant communities around the U.S., using food as a “Trojan horse” to examine the politics of immigration. Just about every network passed on the pitch until, after she’d already given up on the idea, Hulu bit.

In the first episode of Taste the Nation, premiering on June 19, she travels to El Paso to talk to cooks who commute from Mexico to Texas every day to work at a taqueria that is owned by a white Trump supporter who worries about how building a wall would affect his business. The show sheds a light on often unheralded cooks. “Food trends in America,” she says, “trickle up, not down. The people working in the best kitchens in America are brown people.” Restaurants often borrow their ideas and flavors, and give them little of the credit.

Immigrants are being disproportionately affected by restaurant closures. And even as Lakshmi champions home cooking by teaching followers how to make yogurt rice, she is concerned about that community. A lot of the places Lakshmi visited on her show, she worries, may not be there by the end of the year. She is working with the James Beard Foundation on a program offering relief grants, but the organization doesn’t have nearly enough money to fulfill the more than 4,000 applications they received just in the first few hours of launching. “It’s like a fire,” she says. “You have to clean up and rebuild, and hope that at least the soot has fertilized the ground in some way.”

via https://cutslicedanddiced.wordpress.com/2018/01/24/how-to-prevent-food-from-going-to-waste

[haleyfury]

It goes without saying that there are many difficult things going on in the world right. I hope this post finds everyone safe and healthy. I am especially grateful right now for my little corner of the Internet and being able to escape into the world of books and fangirl things for a while.

I’ve talked about this on Instagram and Twitter, but it’s major life update time. As some of you know, I am a college senior. My school had just gotten back from spring break during the second week in March only to find out on that Tuesday, we would be going online until April 3rd. We had the option of staying on-campus or going home, but with all the uncertainty going on, I elected to go back home. I was bummed that I’d basically be home for a month during the last eight weeks of senior year, but felt it was important to me at home with my family, and nothing was going on on-campus. I was also disappointed that this meant that my last college formal had been postponed, but I looked forward to going back a month later.

A Tuesday later, my college decided to officially go online for the semester. To say the least, I was, and still am, devastated. Yes, I have so much to be thankful for right now, and so, so many people have it way worse than me right now. All of my friends and family and myself included are safe and healthy. But I can’t help but think about those senior rites of passages I will be missing and won’t have the opportunity to get back: attending my last formal with my best friends; opportunities to present on my media and communications capstone research; ceremonies celebrating me and my classmates’ hard work; having my last day in the office I’ve worked in as a student employee for three years; saying my official last goodbyes to my best friends and professors; and the one that is hurting me the most right now, getting to walk across that graduation stage with my diploma in hand. My school is trying to work on a solution for this one, and I am really hope that a deferred in-person graduation will one day occur for us.

In light of all this, while I am still doing school work as I have online classes through the first week of May, books and TV have been a even more present comfort in my life right. I tend to not go on book buying sprees as often as I’d like, but I bought 5 books for myself within the first week I was home (thinking of them as early graduation gifts).

Today, I’ll be sharing and discussing the books and TV I’ve been enjoying lately in hope that you might find some comfort in them too. I’ve definitely been spending way too much time on my phone- my only exception in doing so is when I am FaceTiming or texting my friends- so I want to try to delve into more reading and watching this week.

Books

ARCs/Upcoming Releases: What I Like About You by Marisa Kanter &  We Are the Wildcats by Siobhan Vivian – If there’s one thing I really appreciate about social distancing (PSA, please practice it), it’s having the opportunity to catch up on all my review copies. What I Like About You (YA book blogger with a love for cupcakes and an online alias meets her online crush and best friend IRL) and We Are the Wildcats (girls’ field hockey team must deal with a very toxic coach and reunite as a team) were two of my most anticipated releases of the year and they did not disappoint at all. Reviews for both will (with an inspired recipe or two) will be coming in April!

Tweet Cute by Emma Lord – I now also have plenty of time to catch up on early 2020 releases that I missed; insert sigh here that I didn’t put more books on hold before the libraries closed- I’ll read you soon, Of Curses and Kisses & Anna K . My weekend read was Emma Lord’s Tweet Cute, which I am still utterly obsessed with! It was such a fantastic romance and I basically want to make 50 blog posts with recipes inspired by the book.

House of Earth and Blood (Crescent City #1) by Sarah J. Maas – I posted my 1700 word review last week- yes, I have a lot to say and yes, I had even more to say, but wanted to refrain from spoilers. I highly recommend checking this one out if you’re craving fantasy or want a long, but addicting read to keep you company.

Christina Lauren Books –  Roomies, The Honey Don’t List & Josh and Hazel’s Guide to Not Dating– Contemporary romance is the name of my stay-at-home reading game, so my book shopping spree had to reflect that. I’ve suddenly found myself on a Christina Lauren binge! I read Roomies last weekend (review coming later this week) and I bought copies of The Honey Don’t List and Josh and Hazel’s Guide to Not Dating, I chose these two because I want to read them ASAP, not knowing when the library will be re-opening, and this is such a crucial time to be supporting bookstores and authors, especially those who have spring releases.

TV  

You S1 & S2 (Netflix) – It’s dark, it’s messy, it’s ruined my dream of falling in love with a guy in a bookstore, but it’s good. Everyone has been telling me to watch You for a while and I’ve been really enjoying it. I definitely want to check out the book- You by Caroline Kepnes- that inspired it soon.

Schitt’s Creek S6 (PopTV) – If there’s a time to get into Schitt’s Creek, it’s NOW. Seasons 1-5 are available on Netflix, with the sixth season currently on air and the series finale set for April 7th.

Family Karma (Bravo) – Reality TV is one of my favorite forms of escapism- also, here’s your 1000th PSA to also watch Love is Blind on Netflix- and me and one of my best friends are addicted to this one follow young adults who have been raised and live in Florida’s Indian  community.

Julia Tries Everything S2 (Delish/YouTube)- I’m obsessed with anything and everything Delish, but Julia Tries Everything series is my favorite. Her recent Red Robin video made me immediately crave a burger and onion rings.

Say Yes to the Dress America and SYTTTD Atlanta (TLC)- Say Yes to the Dress America just wrapped up, and the latest season of Say Yes to the Dress Atlanta just premiered this weekend! This new season will also be featuring bridesmaid dress shopping.

What books and television have you been turning to lately? Any recommendations for me? How are you? How you are practicing self-care? Share in the comments!

What I’ve Been Fangirling Over Lately: Life Update, Books, & TV Recs It goes without saying that there are many difficult things going on in the world right. I hope this post finds everyone safe and healthy.

[a-dreaming-fool]

Biography: Malala Yousafzai: Heart of an Activist

Malala was only a fifteen years old, Pakistani girl, about to go to school, when a Taliban gunman stepped in her school bus and shot her in the head. But she survived.

On the twelfth of July, 1997, Malala Yousafzai – a name meaning “grief-stricken,” named after a poet and female warrior from Afghanistan – was born to Ziauddin and Toor Pekai Yousafzai, parents of a lower-middle-class family, in Swat Valley, Pakistan – a quiet but favored tourist spot, known well for its festivals during the summer. With two younger brothers, Khushal and Atal, she studied in a school called Khushai Public School founded by her father, Ziauddin, whose diplomatic and humanitarian work in educational activism has brought her much inspiration. This peace in her hometown ended, however, when the Taliban arrived.

The Taliban, self-proclaimed Islamic Emirate of Afghanistan, is a political movement of Sunni Islamic fundamentalism in Afghanistan. Essentially extreme religious nationalists, they have become a major threat to much of the Middle East and its governments, as they’ve waged war in Afghanistan with suicide bombings and other attacks, and conquered some areas of Pakistan – including the hometown of Malala.

As the Taliban has a strong belief that girls and women should not be educated, and thus, have no right to education, they began to attack all-girls schools in Swat Valley. On September, 2008, an eleven-year-old Malala delivered a speech at a press club in Peshawar, Pakistan, to a media-filled audience; entitled: “How dare the Taliban take away my basic right to education?” It was the first day of a long journey of educational activism.

During the latter part of the year, Aamer Ahmed Khan of BBC wanted to do a more detailed coverage on the developing influence and control of the Taliban in Swat Valley; to show how ordinary citizens live under these dangerous circumstances. To do this, they concluded, a young girl living in those conditions could blog anonymously about her life and experiences. They fell in touch with Ziauddin in this search for a young girl, but no one was willing, as it was seen as too life-threatening for the children by their families. Until, finally, Ziauddin suggested his own daughter – Malala. It was a unanimous agreement from the editors of BBC. However, to secure her safety, BBC made sure she wrote under a pseudonym. She chose, along with her mother, the name “Gul Makai” from a character in a Pashtun folktale.

In the early days of January, 2009, her first blog entry was published in their local BBC, BBC Urdu. She would write them by hand on pieces of paper, then submit them to a reporter, who would scan and send them attached to e-mails. More blog entries were posted, following her thoughts as the military arrived, commencing First Battle of Swat.

After bombing hundreds of girls’ schools, the Taliban released an edict stating that girls are not allowed to go to school after the fifteenth of January, 2009. This brought an air of uncertainty in Malala’s school. The school recommended that the girls come to school in their casual wear, not in their uniforms, just to be safe. Additionally, fewer and fewer girls showed up, their families afraid of the consequences from the Taliban if they did. On the final day of school, and the first day of their December break – with no announcement from their principal on the date of the resume of classes – Malala and her friends looked up at the building as though it was the last time they’ll ever see it.

Once the ban took place, more schools were destroyed in their area. In her blog, Malala said that she and her friends were still talking about homework and examinations as though they were still going to return to school after the break. The optimistic were hoping they’ll be able to by February, but not too many shared the same thoughts.

Unfortunately, by February, girls’ schools were still closed. Uniting with these schools, private institutions for boys chose to stay closed as well, until the ninth of February, at least. When this day arrived, the Taliban only allowed girls to attend their primary education classes, which were co-education. Seventy students attended, out of the seven hundred who enrolled. Girls-exclusive schools, however, remained closed.

There was much gunfire in the streets. Her father comforted her, saying, “This is firing for peace,” as he had read in the newspaper that the government was going to sign a peace deal with the Taliban soon. However, later on that same night, when the peace deal was being announced, another round of stronger gunfire began outside.

Three days later, Malala was able to appear in their national current affairs show called Capital Talk, speaking out against the Taliban. Another three days after, the leader of the Taliban announced the lifting of the ban on female education, and that girls will be allowed to attend their classes until their exams on the seventeenth of March, with the condition that they were their burqas, a long outer garment worn by women to fully cover their head to their shoulders, transparent only at the area of their eyes.

So, on the twenty-fifth of February, girls-only schools were finally opened. Malala and her friends played and had fun in their classes like before, although only twenty-seven students attended. But at this time, the Taliban was still active. Tension rose between the military and the Taliban, however, and fear of this peace being more temporary than permanent spread in the area. However, soon, the Taliban was no longer as active, and on the twelfth of March, her BBC blog ended.

After a while, a New York Times reporter approached Malala and her father about filming a documentary. Through this, it was recorded that the Pakistani Army arrived around May, to regain control of the area during the Second Battle of Swat. Malala and her family evacuated and separated; she and her mother and siblings staying in the countryside with relatives, and her father going to Peshawar to protest and gather support, criticizing the Taliban at a press conference. As a result, her father received death threats over the radio from them. Here, Malala felt truly inspired by her father’s determined activism, and during that summer, she decided to become not a doctor, as she once dreamed, but to be a politician and to save their country.

Because of this documentary, Malala was already getting much attention from the world, appearing in various radio stations and television shows to advocate for female education. On December 2009, she finally revealed herself to be Gul Makai, the mystery blogger in BBC Urdu.

By 2011, she received a nomination for the International Children’s Peace Prize of an international children advocacy group, and soon won the National Youth Peace Prize and the National Peace Award for Youth from their prime minister, Yousaf Raza Gillani. A year later, Malala began to plan a foundation to help poor girls attend school.

Her profile became more public, recognized more and more everywhere in the world. But as it did, the more she received death threats – in the newspapers, sent to her own home, through social media. None of it stopped her, however, and it is because of this that the Taliban decided unanimously to kill her.

It was the ninth of October, 2012. She just had an exam in her school in Swat Valley, and was on her way home in a bus – until a masked gunman entered and demanded Malala to reveal herself, or everyone in the bus will be killed. Malala spoke up, and thus, she was shot in the head – going through it and down to her neck and ending up in her shoulder. Two more girls were wounded, but functional enough to explain what had happened. Malala was only fifteen years old.

Closer to death, she was sent to a military hospital in Peshawar, where she was operated on, removing portions of her skull to treat her swelling brain as well as the bullet in her shoulder. Offers to help her from Pakistani, Britain and Germany came in, but by the fifteenth of October, Malala was sent to the United Kingdom for more treatment. All of the expenses were paid by the Pakistani government.

Two days later, she woke up from her coma and was so far responding positively to her treatment. It was during this time that the United Nations released a petition to support her cause and to demand that all girls will go to school, with the slogan: “I Am Malala.”

But it wasn’t until the eighth of November when she was able to sit up on the bed; a month later when she was finally discharged from the hospital to be rehabilitated in her temporary home in the West Midlands; and another month when she had another operation to reconstruct her skull and was reported to being in a stable condition.

All of this – from the murder attempt to her recovery – were being covered by the media all over the world. People protested against the shooting in Pakistan; many more speaking out, such as the president of Pakistan, Asif Ali Zardari, United Nations Secretary-General Ban Ki-moon, the former president of the United States Barack Obama, Secretary of State Hillary Clinton, British Foreign Secretary William Hague, and celebrities such as Madonna and Angelina Jolie. Over two million citizens signed a petition that led to the first Right to Education Bill in Pakistan.

A year later, on her sixteenth birthday, Malala made her first public speech since the murder attempt in the United Nations to call for worldwide access to education, in front of an audience of more than five hundred youth education advocates from all around the world – the first Youth Takeover of the UN. They called this, “Malala Day.” But to Malala, this day was not hers; it is the “day of every woman, every boy and every girl who have raised their voice for their rights.”

Another year later, she co-received the 2014 Nobel Peace Prize, along with Kailash Satyarthi, an Indian children’s rights activist. Malala was only seventeen years old, the youngest Nobel laureate. She was also included in the Twenty-Five Most Influential Teens of 2014 of the Time Magazine.

Later that same year, a militant group of ten attackers called “Shura” was suspected to be behind her attack. They were arrested, and in April, 2015, were sentenced to life in prison by Judge Mohammad Amin Kundi with chance of possibility of parole and release after twenty-five years. Unfortunately, eight of them were released due to the lack of evidence connecting them to the attack.

This does not stop Malala, though. On her eighteenth birthday, she opened up a school by the Syrian border for refugees, to educate and train girls from ages fourteen to eighteen. It was funded by her not-for-profit foundation called Malala Fund. Currently, she is studying Philosophy, Politics and Economics in Lady Margaret Hall, University of Oxford.

[tmatthewj-blog]

Our Little Tolerometer Experiment

The second half of 2015 saw many prominent celebrities and political leaders (barring the ruling party BJP) in India expressing their concern over the growing intolerance in the country. The entire issue caught fire and it became a huge national debate. A political one. The saga hit it's peak when Aamir Khan, one of the biggest stars from the Tinsel Kingdom, made a comment on the growing intolerance in India.

“As an individual, as part of this country as a citizen, we read in the papers what is happening, we see it on the news and certainly, I have been alarmed. I can’t deny. I have been alarmed by a number of incidents,” he said while speaking at the Ramnath Goenka Excellence in Journalism Awards. This incident literally divided India into 2 factions: one that believes India's tolerant enough and the other who feels that India's becoming intolerant to different sect of people.

As you can see on Google Trends, the words 'tolerance' and 'intolerance' started trending during this time.

It's in this context that Jatin, Srijith and I thought of doing a small data experiment to find out if people in India are tolerant enough or if there was indeed a growing sense of intolerance. We decided to build a quick survey experience for Facebook users from India and learn what they wanted to say about tolerance. We built a simple flow that takes users to a page with the survey. Let me explain how we went about this.

Take this 20 secs survey to know your Tolerance score!

We wanted at least 10000 online users to take the survey to have a significant sample set. That put us against the obvious challenge of attracting a lot of users to fill the survey. I have to admit that an element of clickbait-like behavior helped here. We called it the 'Tolerometer' (catchy name) and said we will give your tolerance score if you can take a 20 second survey for us! So we bought the domain tolerometer.com, created a quick landing page on Tumblr and hosted the survey there (since the domain is now expired, you can access the survey here - tolerometer.tumblr.com.)

This really worked, we accumulated more than 10000 survey responses in the next 30 days growing to 16500 users till date. We also employed Facebook Ad credits worth $250 for this exercise which we had with us to promote the page among Indians of 25-40 years of age, who'll mostly care more about the issue than the other age groups.

Your Tolerance score is... Wait, why don't you watch this video instead?

While tolerance score was something that we devised to attract users to participate in the survey, we personally were not in favour of giving a tolerance score to the users. 

What would be the validity of such a score?  How do we calculate the score? Does it even mean anything? 

We decided to go semi-retard by calling it Tolerometer, but didn't want to go full-retard by giving them a tolerance score! Scoop Whoop, an online media magazine did a baseless Tolerance quiz. After seeing that we decided we didn't want to do that!

If not tolerance score, what can we do? After a bit of brainstorming, we decided that we'll show our survey users a video that explains why we should just forget this (in)tolerance debate and celebrate the diverse country that India is. So the users who took the survey were redirected to this video that we created with the help of Kiran, Shivani and Typito team:

While some people appreciated that we directed them to this video, others felt cheated. The backlash was evident on the comments on Facebook post and the YouTube video :). 

Comment by a user who got pissed off that we didn’t give him the tolerance score :-|

We learnt a lesson here - Don't try to cocky, give users what they came for. Deflecting them to something else seldom works. 

What did 16500 Indians say about Tolerance?

Here's a summary of how people responded to the 4 questions we asked them:

As you can see the responses to the questions on Food and Religious Tolerance swayed the most towards a dominating answer. Most users (91% and 76% respectively) felt that they are happy to accommodate others food and religious habits. When it came to expression of thought via art, the majority (49%) felt that artists should be able to express their opinion while also trying their best to be socially responsible. Next to that, 31% users felt art should have complete freedom, even if it hurts someone. On very similar lines, 51% of the users felt that the ruling party (BJP at that time and now as well) should focus on overall economic development while 35% of the them felt their priority should be strengthen the weaker sections of the society.

The results clearly indicate that Indians are accommodative and tolerant under normal circumstances. When people are not provoked, India can thrive to be a nation that’s nice to a diverse set of cultures.

Hofstede Insights on India’s tolerance

Our learnings were also consistent with the report by Hofstede Insights, a company that tried to solve intercultural and organisational culture challenges by utilising their data frameworks. Their report suggests that India has a low ‘Uncertainty Avoidance’ compared to it's neighbouring nation Pakistan. 

Here's what they comment on 'Low Uncertainly' score of the two nations:

“India scores 40 on this dimension and thus has a medium low preference for avoiding uncertainty. In India, there is acceptance of imperfection; nothing has to be perfect nor has to go exactly as planned. India is traditionally a patient country where tolerance for the unexpected is high ; even welcomed as a break from monotony.”

“Pakistan scores 70 on this dimension and thus has a high preference for avoiding uncertainty. Countries exhibiting high Uncertainty Avoidance maintain rigid codes of belief and behaviour and are intolerant of unorthodox behaviour and ideas.”

Learnings from the Experiment

It was definitely fun to see your survey floating around in the internet with the help of some word of mouth publicity as well. However, it’s to be noted that this small study can’t be indicative of the general sentiment of most Indians since the instrument we used was an online survey that was restricted to small set of online users. Here’s the survey we used. This study can’t be used for professional settings since the questions we used were totally based out of intuition and not validated. We also learned that it’s important to be really empathetic with participants in an experiment like this — if you promise something, it’s important to keep it up :).

But nonetheless, it was a nice little experiment and we loved doing this. Hope to share details of other noob data experiments I’ve got my hand on!