#at least in this state where my capital city is like a thousand times bigger than paris. get fucked

[snoozefestalert]

Message to usamericans

This will be divided into multiple talking points. I am posting this mostly anonymously to avoid harassment.

This a message to US American's from a US American.

"Why are you posting such a serious work on the gay porn writing website?" Because it is a prime example of minorities banding together in order to achieve one large thing, I've seen Archive reach its annual goal of thousands of dollars within a DAY. Additionally, we can do something small to make difference, hopefully this can be a part of that. At the very least, I just want to get you thinking and at the very most, I want you to get your feet on the ground.

Before you jump in my ass, again, I am American. Don't play with me.

It is often we see that American's are called selfish, stubborn, lazy, entitled, stupid and inconsiderate. And I understand that it is difficult to not become upset when someone is making a judgment about who you are without having met you personally, especially if you are a minority or your circumstances are less than ideal.

However, understand that great privilege comes with being American, we benefit from imperalism. It is an ugly truth, but everything and every comfort we have is from the blood and tears of the innocent, many from the people slaughtered our own soil and many many more overseas. The American government is not deserving of such graces, we all know that, but it holds great power, regardless if we want it to or not. And people's frustrations with America and American's comes from a great and old rage of being oppressed by the American occupation.

Secondly, and quite frankly, selfishly. If you not want be labeled as a "Stupid and Selfish American" Do not act like one. I understand this may cause controversy but please hear me out.

How do you treat people who speak English with an accent, which could very well be their second or even fifth language, in private? How many languages do you know? Do you automatically assume someone is from the states when you speak to them in an online space? Did you even bother to ask?

Do you understand what people say when they speak of US centrism? Have you heard of the term, and if you have, how deeply do you think it goes?

I see other Americans online make these statement's:

"America is many counties in a trench coat."

- I know 50% of us say this in jest, know that 50% genuinely believe that. No, it is not. States vary in many things like laws and accents and what is considered to be polite. This is also the case, literally everywhere else. What made you assume that we were the only one's to do that? America is big, yes, but I beg of you to know, the rest of the world is even bigger.

"People outside the US can't even name all 50 states! They can't even name the capital of every state!" —

- First of all, can you? Can you name the capital of any country outside of the US that isn't in Europe? Name all the Canadian provinces and territories off the dome! When was the last time you REALLY looked at a world map? And I mean REALLY looked at it. Do you own a map, a globe, anything? They are not expensive. When was the last time you went out of your way to learn a culture that was not your own without it being in an academic setting?

"Our education system is bad!"

- Yes. I am aware. I was born and raised in one of the most dangerous cities in the country. My elementary school doesn't even exist anymore. I remember playing on the playground during recess and then my classmates and I had to lay flat because a shootout had begun and our one teacher couldn't rally all thirty of us inside in time without risking any of us getting hurt. Do you really think we are the only one's who suffer from education not being prioritized? Do you think we suffer the most? Why do you think that?

- Yes, there were many things I was not taught in school. There were times where I would be in an online space and people were making fun of Americans for not knowing who a recently deceased public figure was. My initial response was to be offended, but then I sat and I thought about it. And I had no-fucking- clue who this person was or what atrocities he had committed. They were right. So you know what I did? I liked the post for later and went and researched it myself. I didn't leave a comment talking about how poor or education system was or how it wasn't my fault I didn't know. The internet is at your fingertips, please, it is your greatest tool in more ways than one. The man in question, by the way? Henry Kissinger. The wealthy American man who bombed Cambodia, Vietnam and Laos in the name of American power, money and greed.

- When I said the internet was, is, your greatest tool, I meant it. Why do you think your schools didn't teach you that? Why do you think everyone outside the US knows about that but you? Understand that ignorance is a temporary state of being. You can always be learning. The American education system does not foster curiosity, that is why I am. Always ask questions. Always research on your own. Be curious and implore others to do the same. Always look up names, histories and actions of people. ESPECIALLY, if they sit comfortably on our wealth while we fight over their scraps. When we fight each other, we cannot fight or question our politicians, our governors, our senators or our police. They do not care about us. They care about their money and don't you ever, ever, forget that.

"You can just ignore American politics if you don't want to hear about them!"

- Take a look at this post really fast for me: https://www.tumblr.com/zzoupz/757516050990530560

- I am speaking in broad strokes here, naturally, people outside the us have every right to not want to hear or give a fuck about our maniacs in the oval office. They have their own issues to worry about as well. But please know, generally, people do not have that luxury. American oppression has sunken its claws so deep in so many other people's flesh that they have no choice but to pay attention. Why? Because usually some way or other, our politics impact them.

- Remember when I mentioned US centrism? You can afford to ignore the issues of other countries politics because they do not affect you personally. That does not mean you SHOULD NOT care. But this is a prime example of US politics impacting the rest of the world while we are granted the luxury, and quite frankly, the comfort of not knowing.

- Yes, I know it is not your fault. I know you did not make it this way. I know many of you are also upset at this reality. So when other people talk about their cultures, their criticisms, their politics, thier history and so on. Please listen. Listen to learn.

- It is not right that people must suffer for our comforts. We must change that.

"We are not our governments."

- True. People are not their governments. I hope that while you ask for this grace to be set upon you, you also extend it to others? Do you honestly think every app made in China is spyware out to steal your data and spy on you? What on EARTH would they even do with it if they had it? Facebook/Meta, Apple and YouTube steals and sells your data nonstop and you don't say anything about that? You have to ASK and app to not track your data, you cant even putright say no. Have even SPOKEN to someone from China or even a Chinese American? Do you TALK to people outside of your own ethnic group?

- Do you think every person who critiques the US government is automatically a bot? A spy? Did you ever stop to think that perhaps this person may be impacted by the American government and NATURALLY has opinions to voice about it? Are you listening to learn from them or are you just listening just to respond to them?

-If people are sharing their frustrations about America/its government/American tourists/ etc, this is not your place to go "But!" Or tone police/" I agree but you could've said this nicer" Why? Because you must understand, America IS the oppressor. It always has been.

- Some of you say this and will then go out and literally suck the skin off some cop's dick. Stand up.

"A person from outside the US gives a critique about American's or America and your first response is to go "Yeah, we suck." or "I'm sorry, we hate us too."

- Listen, I understand you want to go "We're not all like that." But your words mean nothing if your actions do not reflect them. You do not need to apologize or belittle yourself, when you do that, it makes the person have to comfort YOU rather than the other way around. Intentional or not, you are making this about YOURSELF. It's like when POC talk about white supremacy, their experiences with racism or living as women of color and some white person goes "Haha yeah I hate white people too! I'm sorry for being white." Please, read the room.

- Instead you can simply, AGREE. You can go, "Yes/Exactly! | I see where you're coming from! | Yes, that is unfair/unjust! | " OR! you can say nothing. You can nod, like/share the post, remember it for the future and adapt accordingly.

- I understand the desire to want to defend yourself but in most if not all cases, these criticisms are valid! They are coming from someone who is STILL heavily impacted and they aren't even from the US! Do you see how insane that is?

- Please try to understand and begin to try to take your "L" in silence. Just keep these criticisms in mind, try to become better accordingly, listen when people speak and for the love of god, stop embarrassing the rest of us in the comment sections of social media posts.

"Yank/Yankee doesn't offend me. It's a baseball team too."

Please shut up. I don't even have a valid talking point on this one but I am begging you to keep this one to yourself. The rest of the world already doesn't like us do not add fuel to the fire buddy.

Do you want the rest of the world to come up with another deragatory term for us???

"People outside the US don't know how our government works!"

- I PROMISE you they do. They are in fact, smothered by it despite their best efforts to ignore it.

- Do YOU how THEIR governments work? Name the president of Mexico without looking it up. How long is a presidential term in Mexico? Name a country with a King/royal family outside the UK?

- If you are curious about a countries politcal climate, culture, etc, please look it up online! And if someone of said place is interested in sharing/telling you where to look, ASK! (If they say no, that is fair! They dont HAVE to say yes. You should try your hardest to research online anyway)

"X term is offensive/ doesn't make sense!"

- Additionally, possibly controversial, these terms could be considered polite/sensible WHEREVER THIS PERSON IS FROM. For example, In the states, it is considered extremely offensive to refer to someone who is black or brown as "Colored." However, in South Africa, it is the most appropriate term!

- This goes for queer labels/titles as well! These terms and identities go by many names by many different groups. They are not wrong or better than the other, they are different and have been shaped by many different walks of life/experiences. (Additionally, not quite the same, but there are people who mean well, WHO ARE IN YOUR CORNER, even if they are not up to date on the terminology. )

"Americans face/suffer X issue!"

- Yes. We do. We are not the only one's . Please do not tell people, "You guy's don't understand because America oppresses us." Because YES, if America does oppress it's own people, imagine what the fuck it does to everyone else.

- It is not a competition, that is not what I'm trying to say. What I AM trying to say is, people understand. Do not assume that they do not. Do not "What about ME," on someone else's post, comment, conversation, etc.

- Listen to me, you are not a bad person. Bad people do not try to become better. But you must TRY to become better. You cannot learn if you are talking. And your talking means nothing if you actions don't mirror your words. You cannot make people NOT hate America/Americans, it would be foolish and selfish to try, especially knowing what this nation has done and is doing. My friend, YOU hate America(ns) and you're FROM HERE.

- Undoing Amercian centric thoughts, actions, conversations etc, isn't going to make peoples thoughts, emotions and histories go away. People are still going to call Americans selfish, lazy, cowards, annoying, etc. You must try to be better anyway.

I'm not trying to get on here and saddle on my high horse, to be like "Oh I'm one of the good one's." That is not what Im trying to do. I am telling you what I have learned and I'm trying to share that with you.

More to take away from this. (This can most likely apply outside the US as well but I'm staying in my lane. If you are not US American, do with this what you will. )

The rest of the world IS NOT JUST EUROPEAN COUNTRIES, CHINA, JAPAN AND KOREA!!!!!! THE WORLD IS A BIG BIG BIG PLACE! Yes, these countries have rich and deep cultures and histories you should learn about but there are dozens more you should learn too.

As an American, your elected officials are not your friends. I don't care how much they talk themselves up, if they look like you or anything else. They are simply that, elected officials. You vote for them so they can do their jobs. And if they say their job includes giving a fuck about people, that they give a fuck about YOU, then you BETTER hold them to that. Say it with me, do their words reflect their actions?

More on elected officials. Who is your mayor? Your Comptroller? Who is the representative of your district? When and where is your town hall meeting? Do you have a library card? When and where is your farmers market? What's your neighbors name? Is there a community garden? Are they any local shops, events happening near you? How can you find out? I live in a city on the East Coast as well as the north, so I understand this may be harder if you are in a Southern/Mid-western/Etc part of the states but I am BEGGING you to try looking before you give up. And, if you have the resources, do it yourself too! We need each other, we must build our communities again brick by brick.

What do I search for/ Whats a good jumping point? I think its SO snobby when people tell you to do better and then provide NO resources, so here are just a few things to get your gears turning. I am speaking to American's, so understand these will be US based links, if there are resources you know of outside the US, please share and I can edit this to add.

-

Nonprofits near me

Burn music on the CD's, mod your old gaming consoles and print out your photos for a scrapbook again. These companies have gotten too comfortable putting simple shit behind paywalls and ads. If it is not in your hands, it is not real. And they will take it from you when they can no longer profit anyway.

If you want to connect to people across the world, there are things like discord for language learning groups or, A Pen Pal! Apps such as Hellotalk may also be useful to you!

Khanacademy.org (American nonproft oraganization deigsned to teach with short videos and even lessons, 100% free, you just need an account)

Black/Latine/Native/LGBTQ+ advocacy groups near me

Can I start a community garden in X State? / Zoning Laws of X State

Local election dates/candidates

Food not bombs (Locations outside the US as well!)

How do I get a library card?

https://openlibrary.org/ (online library)

http://web.archive.org/ (online archive)

Is X library partnered with Mango? (A language learning website in the US that lets you learn languages for free if you have a library card!) Or Rosetta Stone/Udemy

Language learning groups near me (There may even be one on discord/tumblr/etc!)

Brief history of X country.

Soup Kitchen volunteers

You can always look up a world map, but I STRONGLY recommend having a physical one on your wall/work space. Allposters.com has cheap one's that are 36in x 24 inch. Pick a country to learn about, any one, anywhere, even if its only for like an hour.

BDSmovement.net (If you have not already, please joint the fight in the Palestinian liberation/freedom. Boycott products from Israel/companies that support Israel and share/donate any fundraisers for Palestinians. These fundraisers are in USD, EURO, CAD AND MORE )

Look in to the hashtags of Free Palestine, Free Congo and Keep eyes on Sudan. Atrocities are happening across the globe in the name of Western comfort/goods, we must do our VERY BEST to help as many people as we possibly can.

https://www.tumblr.com/newsfrom-theworld/754997875427115009/list-of-campaing-resources-for-countries-in-need?source=share (This link provides a master-list of resources for countries/people in need including Sudan, Palestine,Yemen, Haiti, Congo, Lebanon, Puerto Rico, Tigray, West Papua, Uyghur, and Hawai'i.)

If you are making a post about history/historic figures, resources, links, etc Please specify that these are US based and that they may or may not work in other countries. You can encourage people to add to it and re-share it once additional resources are added. (This will not dimish the fact that SO many things are us based and will still cause frustrstion for many people, but at the very least people can know what to expect)

When people who are not American are critiquing America, listen, especially if they did not ask for your input. Do not speak. Listen.

If you order something online and make a mistake on your order information. Please specify all the details of your order, including that you are in the US. Georgia the STATE and Georgia the COUNTRY both exist. Mail does not just come to the US.

Practice being humble and kind. Not just in person but online as well. You will be wrong, misinformed and fall victim to American propoganda. Apologise, reflect and do better and move forward.

If you can make your own stuff, do it. Keep as much money from these corporations as POSSIBLE. Or even shop small!

^ This includes, gardening, book binding, paper recycling for books/crafts, recycling, having reusable items, buying second hand like in thrift shops/depop/mercari/facebook mp/yard sales/clothing swaps

^ there are entire youtube and tiktok channels dedicated to teaching you how to do these things on your own. Just search the topic and go! The internet is what?? Your biggest tool!

^ if you interested in this one as I am, please look into homesteading skills/traditional skills

Your fight for equality must include everyone. Black people. Brown people. Gay/queer/transgender people. Disabled people. Fat people. Women. Men. Children. Nature in all its forms. From all 4 corners of the world.

Do not give the president or the vice president money? LIKE EVER?? AT ALL?? I cannot believe I have to say this but I'd rather say it than not. Donate to ANYTHING else. Donate to Wikipedia or Adblock or something!

The American government will steal even the skies from you. But only if you let them. Do not let those fuckers rest for even a MOMENT, until they do what they said they would do. There are more of us then there are of them.

Hold your vote hostage against elected officials. Do they fucking want it? Of course they do! They have got to earn it. Make your demands and if they can meet them, then that's when they can have it. If they fail too, drop them like a sack of bricks. There are no second chances when people's lives are at stake.

https://www.tumblr.com/fairuzfan/757294690366357504?source=share Read this post.

Wear a FUCKING mask.

Kill the cop in your head.

Create, build community and love. Joy is resistance. Your apathy will not save you. Fighting in the comment sections online is not going to change the world, you must go out and do that on your own.

None of us are free until we are all free.

"I am severly disabled/cannot leave my home due to a disability/ I am a child/minor, but I still want to help and make a difference! What can I do?"

A few of the tasks listed above require very little physical activity like a pen-pal, library card, wearing a mask, etc. pick whatever you can do. If there is something I didnt think of, share it with me! And i can add.

You are never too young or too old, to big or too small, to make a difference. We need eachother. We always have.

I'm sure there is so much more. but I am just one person. I cannot do all of the work for all of us. But I can do some of the work and you can meet me halfway. And that is how we make a difference. If there is an issue in your community that troubles you then I suggest you share what you can on it and lay the foundation because if not you, then who? If not now, then when?

I hope this is helpful, I apologize in advance if I've gotten something wrong about other peoples countries/homes and if there are any errors.

[oakantony]

I don't know

I've been thinking about success a lot lately, especially in regards to writing.

I love writing. I would do it trapped in a vacuum utterly alone because I can't not write. I've always created stories, even when I was very, very little, before I knew how to put words on a page, and I suspect I'll keep creating stories every day for the rest of my life.

The thing is--there's this "noble pursuit" ideology with crafts like painting, writing, and even something like teaching. "You do it because you love to do it." And I get that. I truly do--like I said, I'd write in a vacuum if I had to.

But because it falls into the noble pursuit category, there's this idea that you write for yourself and nobody else and "success" (either financially or via attention, or awards, or whatever) is irrelevant. And I honestly think that's kind of unfair.

I'm very lucky that I've written fanfiction that's garnered a decent amount of interaction and even some monetary benefit; I've been on Patreon for like four years at this point. And I'm really grateful that I have that space, because it's allowed me to feel less alone in what is typically a lonesome passion.

But what about success outside of fan spaces? What if I want to write original works and feel "successful" with those? What does success even look like in real, tangible terms for me?

It's not very easy to define. I want to be able to write every day if I choose and know, as I write, that I'm not wasting my time. That is, that I'm writing towards a bigger goal of completing a project and then sharing it with other people. That's not very noble, is it?

And how many other people reading my story qualifies the book as a success, exactly? A hundred? A thousand? One? Maybe just one, and that one has to really, really love it. One big fan that asks questions and makes fanart and writes fanfic (that I don't get to read, but I know it's there, and I love it).

The other thing with "success" in writing is that I live in the United States and capital rules every aspect of my life; lord and king is the dollar. So, yeah, maybe I'd be happy if one person read (and loved) my book, but only if that one person paid me a year's salary. And what's a year's salary? Well, I'm single, and I live in a high cost-of-living city (Austin, Texas, baby; don't let anyone lie to you and say Texas real estate is "affordable" because it ain't), and I'm in my mid-thirties, so I need to think seriously about healthcare in the coming decades.

I could live on a book salary of $100,000 a year, probably, but healthcare, emergencies, rent, and my fat glowering student loan would dwindle that down very fast, and I promise that I wouldn't be living rich.

Is living "rich" part of success for me? A yearly vacation and a nice home would push far beyond $100,000. We'd have to double the payment, then. $200,000 a year. And how many writers earn $200,000+ per year in the United States? According to Zulie Writes, traditionally-published best-selling authors make at least $140,000 per year, while self-published best-selling authors make over $250,000 per year.

So, based on a quick search--it's less than 1%. Less than 1% of authors make over $200,000. I did some quick math--that's about 500 authors.

(Now, that's not how many authors make a living on books--mind you, a lot of writers are not single. Two person households where one holds a "traditional" job with healthcare benefits and a steady paycheck means an author could be making less than $50,000 per year total and still live comfortably.)

I'm veering a little off topic. So, success for me is a formula like:

Success = comfortable writing routine + at least one reader who likes what I've done + $200,000 per year

The funny thing is--a good chunk of that formula is done. I write comfortably around my day job, because my day job is flexible, and I'm super grateful for that. And I've got many readers, actually, even for my original stuff. But I'm very far away from the $200,000.

Do I feel close to success, having two of the three pieces in place?

Not really. Maybe a little? I don't know.

How can I get closer to that feeling?

I also...don't know. Is traditional publishing the answer? Is self-publishing? Is publishing at all worth it? Maybe I should make $200,000 by changing careers and going into tech or something and keep my writing completely separate from my bank account.

And, an even bigger question: does caring about that formula take away from the noble pursuit part of my passion? If I never achieve "success"--does it matter? It's art. (It's men kissing, but it's also art.)

How many times have I written "I don't know" in this essay so far? Maybe that's what it should be called. Because I don't. (Know, that is.)

It's an odd feeling knowing what you want to do, having known what you wanted to do for your whole life, and not feeling capable of it. I have a direction. I've always had a direction. It's just that I've got a shackle on my foot and a fiery moat in front of me, sort of, and where I'm standing right now is fine, so everyone wonders why I'm even trying to walk that way.

Just stay put and be happy, because happiness isn't part of the formula for success. Is it?

[aliceslantern]

Heartlines, a Kingdom Hearts fanfic, chapter 25-- Deconstruction/Reconstruction

Twelve years ago, Xemnas betrayed the royal court of Radiant Garden to his father, Xehanort. Prince Ienzo flees to another city and begins university in the aftermath, hoping the anonymity will protect him from eager eyes with ill intent. The darkness spilling across the country, as well as an individual from his past, cut short Ienzo's new beginning and bring new conflicts to light. Strained between the desires of his magic and his heart, Ienzo's choice will change him forever.

Modern Fantasy AU, Soulmates, Zemyx. Updates Fridays until it's done.

Chapter summary:  With Radiant Garden under control of the resistance, it's time to rebuild. Ienzo tries to repair the damage done to his family.

Read it on FF.net/on AO3

---

White sheets. Cool air. Color and light. He felt so heavy, and it took him a moment of grappling into consciousness to realize it was because he could barely move his legs.

“Ienzo? Love?”

Ienzo turned his head as much as he was able. He seemed to have motion in his upper body, but even that was difficult, like tugging on puppet strings. “Ev-even?” He swallowed.

“Would you like some water? I’ll get some. Don’t move.”

As if he could help it. Blurrily, he saw Even retreat to a corner of this room--the castle infirmary?--and pour water from a pitcher. He knew he should be grateful to still be sighted at all, after using so much magic. He squinted. Even handed him the cup; he could barely close his hand around it, but he managed it at last. Despite IV fluids, he was so thirsty .

“Are you in any pain? I can get you some medication if--”

“No. I’m not. But I can’t… it’s hard to move.”

“...I know.” Even smoothed some of the hair from Ienzo’s face. His own face was pale, pinched, a large bruise along his throat yellowing. “From the magic use. Breaking down a limiter of that strength… then triggering what you did… frankly, it’s a miracle you’re still alive.”

“Will I be like this… always?”

“I’m optimistic you’ll recover yet, but… there may be some lingering effects.”

“What’s happened? How long have I been out? Where’s Amalia? Where’s--?”

“One thing at a time, child. It’s imperative you remain calm.”

Ienzo tried to center himself, tried to take deep breaths. Even took his hand and rubbed it, gently.

“Amalia is safe and well. I suspect Ansem is enjoying having time with her. Once he received some blood replacement, Demyx was fine too. I’m sure he’ll be thrilled you’re awake. It was all rather… dramatic, how it went down. You’ve been unconscious close to three weeks.”

“Aeleus? ...Isa? What of… everything else? Xehanort’s forces? The son who called himself Ansem? He wasn’t in the throne room that day--”

Even’s eyes went blank, and he turned towards the window. “I’m afraid when I… felt your burst of magic--it was felt everywhere, Ienzo, I don’t think you understand--I assumed the worst and I--I did something reckless. He was our jailer, in my old labs, something he no doubt had great pleasure in. For the first time in my life… I acted on impulse.” He looked at his free hand, which was trembling. “I knew you were in trouble, and I--”

Ienzo had never heard Even sound so shaky. He choked down guilt. “You killed him.”

“...He was the gatekeeper.” He’d turned faintly green.

“Was that the first time you took a life?”

“It does not matter. It needed to happen either way.” He swallowed. “I made my way there, with ease. You killed every Heartless in the vicinity. Those that were human were knocked unconscious, or fled.”

“I… I did?”

“...Quite. The initial scouting indicates that… you may have slain every one in the city.”

“It was not conscious,” he admitted. “All I saw was that Demyx was bleeding out and the soulbinding reacted to all that--”

“--and the rush of emotions triggered magic. Of course it did.”

Ienzo lay back a little. “So without the three of them… and no Heartless…”

“The capital city’s under the control of the resistance.” But there was no happiness in his expression.

“Shouldn’t we be… glad? This is among the best case scenarios--”

“The sudden death of Xehanort and two of his sons has caused something like a power vacuum. The people don’t know how to react. There’s still darkness and various devotees of it spread throughout the country. Some states have turned over towards us, but others are… hesitant. Waiting to see might happen. And there are those who are outright fighting. Aeleus and Isa are among the front line, trying to see what can be done to restore order without worsening things. Meanwhile your father is trying to pursue international aid… and research better ways to defeat the darkness.”

“And of you?”

A pause. “I’ve been taking care of you.”

“I’m sure you’ll be relieved to go back to research, then.”

Even reached forward to smooth Ienzo’s hair. “To be truthful, it has been nice, to have this space to think. To consider.”

Ienzo understood. “...It’s alright if you’re upset, Even.”

“It is so silly , that I feel such guilt for killing one who’s killed thousands with his actions--but my feelings are not important.”

“I’m sure that’s not the case.” Ienzo struggled to sit up; Even adjusted the pillows under him. “So much for fighting back.”

“I think you’ve done enough. You must recover for what comes next.”

“Amalia. I need to see her.”

He hesitated.

“Please, Even.”

“...Quite.” He seemed to go a little deeper into himself. “Perhaps there will be one day when I’m not constantly in fear of your life.”

“I sincerely hope so.”

Ienzo watched him leave the room. He’d never seen Even so scattered before, so almost… unsure . Had something else happened he was not telling Ienzo, about the man calling himself Ansem? That bruise…

He hadn’t been conscious long, but he was already exhausted. He could still feel his legs, but moving was the problem. Perhaps he could get a wheelchair, and get around that way? He couldn’t seriously sit around and do nothing while all this fighting happened--

The door opened. In came Demyx, carrying their daughter. She’d gotten even bigger since Ienzo last saw her--another month he’d missed--and she was chewing on a teething ring. “Hey,” he said, softly. Like Even, his eyes were closed off.

“How do you feel?” Ienzo asked.

“Me? Oh, I’m fine. Ugly scar, but oh well, right? How are… you?” Amalia was staring at him, not with fear like before, but perhaps curiosity. Ienzo tried to reach out to her with his magic, but it was like swatting wet laundry; it didn’t come instantly to his call. So instead he reached out one trembling hand. She smiled and handed him the slimy teething ring. “Oh, sweetie, I’m sure daddy doesn’t want that.”

“Could I…” He wasn’t sure he was physically strong enough to hold her.

“Ah… sure.” Demyx pulled the chair closer to the bed and plopped her onto the mattress. “I’ve been… bringing her in here for a while every day. While daddy takes his long nap, right?”

She made a sound like “boo.”

“She talks.” Tears rose to his eyes.

“Well. Vocalizes.”

She clapped her hands together.

“And she can hold herself up.”

“She crawls, too. Ah--like that.” She had dragged herself almost across Ienzo’s lap. “I have a feeling she’ll be running before long.”

Amalia looked up at him and made a noise that could only be expressed as “?”

“Daddy,” Demyx said to her helpfully. “You remember now, yeah.”

“Baba.”

“Daddy. Good.” He smoothed the curls off her forehead.

Ienzo felt a rush of affection which was almost painful. “Look at you, big girl.” He wasn’t sure what else to say. She tugged at the sleeve of his robe. “Can you help me?” he asked Demyx.

“Sure.” He eased her into his lap. Amalia pressed her cheek against his chest. “See? Crisis averted.”

“I’m guessing the curls came from you.”

“The only time my hair was long enough to tell was when I was underwater, so.” He shrugged. Amalia gave him a toothless smile. “Look at you, happy girl.”

Ienzo noticed the difference in his voice when he spoke to the two of them. “Are you comfortable? Here?”

“Oh, yeah. Ansem set us up nice in your old room. If you don’t mind.”

“Why would I mind?”

Another shrug. “Oof, drool patrol.” He grabbed a tissue and dabbed at it. “She’s teething something wicked.”

“Maybe the next time you come you could bring me a book, so I could read to her.”

“She’d probably like that.”

Ienzo wrapped his arms loosely around her, and she let him. Feeling the warmth and weight of her--the subtle twitch of her limbs-- and hearing her little babbling eased this awful ache he’d had for so long. “I missed you,” he said to her. He kissed her head. “I missed you so much. I just… hope we can be a family now.”

“That would be nice,” he said softly. “Wouldn’t it?” The last part he repeated in a goofy voice, and Amalia laughed. “You think you’ll be okay?”

“Even’s optimistic. And I trust him.”

“He’s been up here almost constantly.”

“But the castle is… safe, for you two?”

“Oh, yeah. Magic users crawling out of the woodwork to help. I've still got some fight in me."

“I hope that soon I can be back on my feet, and start being a bigger part of her life.”

“One thing at a time.” Ienzo wondered if he was imagining the flatness in his eyes. “Isn’t that right, Li-li?”

---

It took Ienzo weeks to start feeling something resembling “normal.” For several nights the pain of his healing nerves kept him awake, but at least once it was through with he could limp around a little. He could play with Amalia a little more actively. Physical therapy made him somewhat stronger, and while he had to use a cane to walk more than a few steps, Even believed it would be gone before long.

Members of his family and the resistance ducked in and out. Ansem brought him books, briefed him on the situation as it developed. “Almost feels as though my skills to rule have grown rusty,” he admitted. “It is difficult to tell… which members of parliament left are lying, when they say they did not hold any allegiance towards Xehanort. I’m tempted to dissolve the whole thing and hold elections, but we simply can’t do so at the moment. Making sure our people are fed and safe and cared for is more important than politics at the moment. Thankfully the bordering nations have been kind enough to send along resources and medics.”

“I wish I could help,” Ienzo said. “Being here, waylaid and helpless --”

Ansem just patted his hand. “You jumpstarted a revolution, Ienzo,” he said.

“So I’m told, but I wonder if you all are exaggerating to salve my ego.”

The pat became more of a squeeze. “Control of Radiant Garden was crucial,” he said. “And you achieved that.”

“Only because Xehanort mortally wounded Demyx, and I reacted instinctively--were it not for that my whole plan would’ve collapsed--”

“Ienzo. Why are you being hard on yourself?”

He felt tears in his eyes. “These past six months… I’ve been sitting here in luxury playing silly mind games while my daughter grew up without me, while the rest of you suffered. ”

“You did the best you could with what you had--and you did pretty damn well. This guilt is pointless, Ienzo.”

“I… I know.”

“We are together now. We will rebuild. And I hope things will be better than they were before.”

He sniffled. “Is it over? Can it just be over?”

Ansem drew him into an embrace.

---

Spring began in earnest. Ienzo realized one morning as he woke in the infirmary that the lingering smell of darkness that had hung over Radiant Garden was gone, and a fresh rain brought in the sea air. He no longer needed the cane, but he tired easily, and his legs still ached tremendously. Once he was well enough, he insisted that he be more involved in the reconstruction, insofar as he could.

There was the reality of Xehanort’s youngest son’s experiments. Ienzo had purged the Heartless, but the poor people who had not been transformed were instead traumatized and in some cases catatonic. While there were doctors and psychologists willing to help them, it was hard to tell if they could be helped. Ansem organized national days of mourning for those who had been lost, and released the lists of names so families could have closure. The youngest son had kept meticulous records.

He asked community leaders to come forward with ideas as to help their nation move on. Darkness still existed; but now that people had hope, they were more willing to fight. That, and with the darkness easing, they were getting early signs that the planet could still heal. Ienzo swore he could feel its pulse, its life reaching up to his magic. He wished he did not feel so powerless.

“We don’t want things to go back to the way they were,” Ansem said in a broadcast. “Clearly, “normal” meant “suffering” for some. Darkness… only made that pain more obvious. If we wish to maintain the light, we must heal one another.”

Finally, Ienzo was well enough to go back to his rooms, and begin repairing his family… because it was going to take a lot of work. Amalia was more familiar with him, more comfortable, but still she always looked towards Demyx when she needed something.

And there was the matter of… Demyx.

At first Ienzo thought the distance between them was all paranoia on his part, but it became clear in the way Demyx spoke to him, especially when it came to their daughter. “You dressed her in that? She hates that one, it’s itchy against her scales.” “Sure. You can do that. I guess.” “Look, I know you’re trying, but strawberries give her gas .” “You let her nap too long. Now she’s not going to sleep through the night.” That, and the flatness in his eyes. It wasn’t openly unfriendly, but it lacked the warmth that they’d had before.

More straining than this, in some ways, was sharing a bed. Ienzo had honestly been looking forward to reconnecting on a physical level--he hoped it would help him sleep the deep way he had when they lived together--but that first night Demyx just rolled onto his side and fell asleep. He let it go a few nights, wondering if it were just a pain of readjustment, if he were just used to sleeping alone. Finally, he just got fed up and crawled over to spoon him, jerking him out of his sleep. “What are you--?”

“Trying to touch you?”

“Well could you please not?”

For a moment there was just silence.

Demyx exhaled heavily and ran his hand through his hair. “Look, I… I’m sorry for snapping. But I… I’m not comfortable .”

Ienzo swallowed and felt a lump in his throat. “Would you prefer I slept elsewhere?”

“No, it’s… it’s fine.”

Ienzo eased back to his side of the bed. He knew he would not be able to sleep. As it was, he was struggling not to cry.

The next day they behaved as normally as they could in front of their daughter, but when Ansem came and asked if he could spend some time with her, Ienzo agreed before Demyx could get a word in edgewise. “We need to talk,” Ienzo said.

Demyx wrinkled his nose. “Do we have to?”

“Yes. We do.” Ienzo was surprised to feel his temper flare, but he kept it in check. “Look, we’re… we’re parents, and we’re soulmates . A lot has happened, and you have a right to feel the way you do. But that can’t begin to heal if we keep ignoring it.”

He seemed to not know what to say.

“How do you feel, Demyx?” Ienzo asked.

He rubbed at his arm. “I feel like… I feel…” He swallowed. “Something’s just wrong ? With me?”

“You’re processing.”

“Not that. I don’t know. For a long time I just missed you so much it hurt, and I didn’t know how I was going to do any of it, be her dad, or…” He trailed off, a flush darkening his face. “And then I saw you again, and you were alive, and I was so happy and so relieved and I don’t know what happened since then. Something’s wrong.”

A suspicion slid into place, and Ienzo’s voice shook when he asked, “wrong how ?”

Tears flooded his eyes. “I don’t feel anything. When I look at you. You’re the father of my child. But it’s just… I feel like… I was meant to be her dad, but… I don’t know if I’m meant to be with you?” His voice quivered and broke. “I want to. I want to be in love with you again. But I…”

“I think I understand,” Ienzo said woodenly.

Demyx hesitated. He stared at Ienzo for a moment, and then he took a few steps forward and kissed him, hard.

And it was different.

Physically, it felt the same, the way they moved together. But it was just a nice kiss, without the heavy reassurance that yes , this is part of you, everything is safe, everything is okay.

In his mind’s eye, Ienzo saw Xehanort gouging him below the heart. “Oh,” he said softly.

“What’s wrong with me, Ienzo? Am I just depressed?”

“No,” he said. Numbly, he pulled away.

“...What?”

And then he started laughing.

“ What ?”

Once he began, he couldn’t stop, until tears were running down his face, and he couldn’t breathe, and somewhere the gasps of laughter became sobs, and he was curled in a ball on the floor. He felt Demyx’s hand on his back, warm but the touch was so wrong .

“Ienzo. What is it?”

He looked up. “Xehanort broke the soulbound.”

[summoner-kentauris]

The United Fódlan-Magvel Post-Time Skip Map, Type 1

Previous Post | Next Post 

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FIGURE ONE

Figure One is simple enough, it’s just the important places in Fódlan with names on it.

FIGURE TWO

This is where it gets juicy. We’re going to go through each of these places more or less individually, so this is going to be a long post, be forewarned. Now, all of these are located roughly where they ought to be in relation to one another. Which means, in many cases there isn’t much choice behind the decision. Still, there was at least a little bit!

[Keep Reading Link Below]

North Magvel

The Black Temple

The Black Temple was placed directly on top of the ruins of Garreg Mach Monastery, as detailed in Post One. This is the site of the Holy Mausoleum, and makes a perfect one-to-one translation to the place where the Demon King Fomortiss’ body will be sealed. Likewise, Garreg Mach is located right next to the Sealed Forest, the one place in Fódlan known for, well... sealing and darkness. From the Sealed Forest will come Darkling Woods. This leads us nicely to...

Caer Pelyn

As some of you may yet be tired of hearing from me, Morva makes a wonderful Seteth. Caer Pelyn has to be near the Black Temple anyway, but there’s something terrifically poetically sad about the last Nabateans hovering around whats left of Garreg Mach.

Neleras Peak

Let’s go ahead and say that whatever disaster laid waste to Faerghus and the Alliance, it involved the javelins of light. One was sent to Garreg Mach, but, as we know, it is protected. Instead, Neleras was detonated, and left in a state of lava-y Ailell hell.

This, again, is is the only site whose location will be completely disregarded. I feel like putting it here again so you don’t have to click all around: in the lore, Mt. Neleras is supposed to be within the Darkling Woods. The Darkling Woods is centered around Caer Pelyn and the Black Temple. Now, the way I see it, you could have that forest cover all that land and still reach across the continent across two countries to where Mt. Neleras is supposed to be. You could also not do that very unpleasant thing. Just- just move it. It’s easy. Look, I’ve done it myself right here.

Melkaen Coast

It’s a coast. It’s located on a coast. Nothing special going on here.

Hamill Canyon

We’ve moved this quite a far bit. For one, a large offshoot of mountain range is no longer here in places. For two, remember that chasm Byleth fell into? Yeah, me too.

.

Midwest Magvel

Renais

Renais grew from what was left of Remire Village. Much like on the original map, it is protected on the east by mountains, which also render Caer Pelyn inaccessible from Renais.

Za’ha Woods

Now, if I were to remake this map, I’d stick the Za’ha Woods in the Sealed Forest, because Zahras is too linguistically close for me to not want to line them up.

Borgo Ridge

There is actually a small ridge on the Fódlan map right in the vicinity of where Borgo RIdge needs to go. So that was a no-brainer.

Teraz Plateau

It’s a plateau. Near vaguely altitude-y places. Not much else to say here.

.

West Magvel

Frelia

Frelia is located within range of the Brionac Plateau. You have no idea of deeply desperately I wanted to put it ON the Brionac Plateau. A pegasus-culture located on a giant fantasy plateau? SIgn me the fuck up. Anyway, Frelia is SUPPOSED to be on the coast, though. So, on the coast it goes. Why are there so many plateaus on this map anyhow?

Fort Rigwald

This isn’t located near anything important on the Fódlan map. The Magvel country borders are quite different, so it makes sense that new forts would have to be constructed. I’m still sad about it, though.

Border Mulan

On the Fódlan map, this location is listed as the Western Church. We will assume for this map that whatever they built was strong, and exists in some for or another in Magvel time. At any rate, this location is now Border Mulan.

Ide

North of Borgo Ridge. End of statement.

The Tower Of Valini

This is located on Lake Teutates. There already is the ruins of a tower there already so. Why the fuck not?

(Answer: because Lake Teutates sucks and I wish I could wipe it off the map with my bare hands. Indech do not interact.)

Visual aid for those of you who haven’t been forced to look at Lake Teutates for fifty thousand years and also never used the zoom in mode:

Some other interesting information about Valni/Teutates here:

Valni is Russian for waves (волны). Interestingly enough, the singular form волна is the name of a specific submarine launched ballistic missile.

The Tower of Valni is, of course, notable for having those terrifically obnoxious light beam weapons. Three House is, of course, notable for dropping actual fucking missiles on you. Missiles called javelins of light.

I’m bolding all of that because I’m very excited about it.

Port Kiris

Port Kiris is located in Magvel near the coast of the Northern Sea. I made a minor error in this map, and didn’t place Kiris far enough west. Anyway, in this map Kiris is also located at the end of a river that connects it both to Border Mulan and Frelia, which gives this town more trade power. It is a sea port and also, a river port. Hurray!

.

The Bay

Serafew

Serafew could be in a range of places. We’ve placed it in the central north of the bay. It is fed by a whole lot of rivers, which would help maintain the city from a logistics point of view. I’m guessing they have a lot of fertile land from the Adlas Plains, as well.

Adlas Plains

Adlas remains at the north mouth of the bay. There is a notable lack of Adlas’s forests in Fódlan’s map; on the other hand, there aren’t really any forests displayed on the map.

Bethroen

Bethroen’s path on the Sacred Stone’s map curves oddly; here, that is replicated and also reinforced by the mountains that back Bethroen. Presumably, here the path is curved because it is a path through the mountains.

.

South Magvel

Renvall

I really wanted to put Renvall on the ruins/same place as Fort Merceus. Renvall is also located, though, at the base of a river. There is one of those slightly to the left of Merceus. Plus, as we’ll get to in a second, Grado has a pretty set location. All of that means Renvall can’t really go on Merceus. It’s honestly the most reasonable choice, given what happens to Merceus in some of the routes.

At any rate, this is generally where Renvall goes. South east of Adlas, north of the Empire. Both Grado and Adrestian.

Taizel

Taizel is probably the one I’m least happy with. That area on both to Fódlan and Magvel map is occupied. However, in Magvel, that spot is just some town, whereas in Fódlan, its the whole capital of the empire. 800 years is a long time, but to completely wipe the importance of such a well established city? I just don’t know.

Either way, the location lines up wonderfully. As an additional note, both Enbarr and Taizel have rivers to the east of them, and this is continued here.

Za’abul Marsh

It’s a marsh. It goes both near a river, and directly between Taizel and Grado. Not much interesting happening here as far as all that goes. Fódlan provides that excellent river mentioned above.

Grado

Ah, the big one of the region. Grado is near the peninsula. It’s not directly below Renval, or Jehanna Hall, but rests somewhat inbetween the two as far as longitude goes. This area on the Fódlan map has something called the Morgaine Ravine. Now, I’ve finally finished all four routes and as far as I can tell, this fucker has come up exactly zero times. Still, it’s a place notable enough to get a name on the map, and more than that, it’s got earth-splitting connotations with that ravine name. Sounds like a perfect place to stick Grado’s capital if you ask me.

.

East Magvel

Jehanna Hall

I am so tired. Okay. Three left. So, Jehanna. I don’t know about you, but when I see a gigantic tasty fields-and-plains region, I think, what if desertification? Anyway the point is, Gronder et al. can’t stay delicious and green forever. Especially with everyone and their brother dedicated to fighting on it, or burning it down, or stepping all over it, etc. On this map, this area becomes the desert that Jehanna Hall sits itself right down in.

Now, if only I could figure out who Metis is...

Narube River

Now, strictly speaking, the Narube is located to the east of Jehanna Hall. Why be strict, though, when the Airmid is right there. I mean, its right. there.

Rausten Court

“Hey, wait!” you cry. “Where the hell did Neleras go?”

“Now hang on,” I say. “I feel like I ranted about this. I mean though I can definitely go again, here let me just get my-”

Okay, now Rausten Court

Rausten lies across the River, to the east of Darkling, and occupies its own space away from everything else, really. Of note here is that it’s right behind the Great Bridge. I think that’s pretty neat.

Lagdou Ruins

FINALLY! I‘VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE.

Shambhala. End statement.

Alright, not actually the end of statements. But let me just say: Shambhala got hit by missiles, not destroyed. If people can make it out of there, bits of that place are still intact. And that’s setting aside the fact that, if you look in the zoom in map, that place is a hell of a lot bigger than just the field of combat. Anyway. All that I’m saying: Shambhala real.

AND, lest we forget. The ninth floor of Lagdou is in fact lava-burn-y. Which could jsut mean lava... or the predictable and regularly desribed aftermath of the lances of light that Shambhala gets hit with in canon.

Anyway. All that I’m saying: Shambhala real.

Because of this, Lagdou has experienced a bit of a shift. It is still located next to all the proper geographical feature, it is just that the removal of Neleras means that part of the continent is a bit stretched.

.

Aaannnd that’s the end of this post! Stay tuned for the next post, which is just the nice final fancy map.

[tlatollotl]

Of all the places to discover a lost city, this pleasing little community seems an unlikely candidate.

There are no vine-covered temples or impenetrable jungles here — just an old-fashioned downtown, a drug store that serves up root beer floats and rambling houses along shady brick lanes.

Yet there’s always been something — something just below the surface.

Locals have long scoured fields and river banks for arrowheads and bits of pottery, amassing huge collections. Then there were those murky tales of a sprawling city on the Great Plains and a chief who drank from a goblet of gold.

A few years ago, Donald Blakeslee, an anthropologist and archaeology professor at Wichita State University, began piecing things together. And what he’s found has spurred a rethinking of traditional views on the early settlement of the Midwest, while potentially filling a major gap in American history.

Using freshly translated documents written by the Spanish conquistadors more than 400 years ago and an array of high-tech equipment, Blakeslee located what he believes to be the lost city of Etzanoa, home to perhaps 20,000 people between 1450 and 1700.

They lived in thatched, beehive-shaped houses that ran for at least five miles along the bluffs and banks of the Walnut and Arkansas rivers. Blakeslee says the site is the second-largest ancient settlement in the country after Cahokia in Illinois.

On a recent morning, Blakeslee supervised a group of Wichita State students excavating a series of rectangular pits in a local field.

Jeremiah Perkins, 21, brushed dirt from a half-buried black pot.

Others sifted soil over screened boxes, revealing arrowheads, pottery and stone scrapers used to thin buffalo hides.

Blakeslee, 75, became intrigued by Etzanoa after scholars at UC Berkeley retranslated in 2013 the often muddled Spanish accounts of their forays into what is now Kansas. The new versions were more cogent, precise and vivid.

“I thought, ‘Wow, their eyewitness descriptions are so clear it’s like you were there.’ I wanted to see if the archaeology fit their descriptions,” he said. “Every single detail matched this place.”

Kacie Larsen of Wichita State University shakes dirt through a screened box to see what artifacts may emerge. David Kelly / For The Times

Conquistadors are often associated with Mexico, but a thirst for gold drove them into the Midwest as well.

Francisco Vazquez de Coronado came to central Kansas in 1541 chasing stories of a fabulously wealthy nobleman who napped beneath trees festooned with tinkling gold bells. He found no gold, but he did find Native Americans in a collection of settlements he dubbed Quivira.

In 1601, Juan de Oñate led about 70 conquistadors from the Spanish colony of New Mexico into south-central Kansas in search of Quivira in the hopes of finding gold, winning converts for the Catholic Church and extracting tribute for the crown.

According to Spanish records, they ran into a tribe called the Escanxaques, who told of a large city nearby where a Spaniard was allegedly imprisoned. The locals called it Etzanoa.

As the Spaniards drew near, they spied numerous grass houses along the bluffs. A delegation of Etzanoans bearing round corn cakes met them on the river bank. They were described as a sturdy people with gentle dispositions and stripes tattooed from their eyes to their ears. It was a friendly encounter until the conquistadors decided to take hostages. That prompted the entire city to flee.

Oñate’s men wandered the empty settlement for two or three days, counting 2,000 houses that held eight to 10 people each. Gardens of pumpkins, corn and sunflowers lay between the homes.

The Spaniards could see more houses in the distance, but they feared an Etzanoan attack and turned back.

That’s when they were ambushed by 1,500 Escanxaques. The conquistadors battled them with guns and cannons before finally withdrawing back to New Mexico, never to return.

This bluff overlooks the spot where many believe Spanish conquistador Juan de Oñate met a delegation of Etzanoans. David Kelly / For The Times

French explorers arrived a century later but found nothing. Disease likely wiped out Etzanoa, leaving it to recede into legend.

Blakeslee enlisted the help of the National Park Service, which used a magnetometer to detect variations in the earth’s magnetic field and find features around town that looked like homes, storage pits and places where fires were started.

Then, relying on descriptions from the conquistadors, he discovered what he believes was the battle site in an upscale neighborhood of Arkansas City.

Volunteers using metal detectors found three half-inch iron balls under the field. Blakeslee said they were 17th century Spanish cartridge shot fired from a cannon. A Spanish horseshoe nail was also found.

It all lent credibility to the detailed accounts left by the conquistadors.

The battlefield sits in Warren “Hap” McLeod’s backyard.

“It’s a great story,” he said. “There was a lost city right under our noses.”

McLeod, 71, offered a quick tour of the area.

He started at Camp Quaker Haven overlooking the spot where Oñate would have encountered the Etzanoans. McLeod then drove up to the country club, the highest point in the city of roughly 12,500 people.

“Lots of artifacts have been taken from here,” McLeod said.

In 1994, thousands of relics were unearthed during road construction. In 1959, the renowned archaeologist Waldo Wedel wrote in his classic book, “An Introduction to Kansas Archeology,” that the valley floor and bluffs here “were littered with sherds, flints, and other detritus” that went on for miles.

“Now we know why,” McLeod said. “There were 20,000 people living here for over 200 years.”

Local rancher Jason Smith, 47, said he had seen collections “that would blow your mind.”

“Truckloads of stuff,” he said. “Worked stone tools, flints. One guy had 100 boxes at his house.”

Russell Bishop, 66, worked at the country club as a kid.

“My boss had an entire basement full of pottery and all kinds of artifacts,” he recalled. “We’d be out there working and he would recognize a black spot on the ground as an ancient campfire site.”

Bishop, who now lives outside Denver, has coffee cans full of arrowheads. He spread some on his counter.

“I don’t think anyone knew how big this all was,” he said. “I’m glad they’re finally getting to the bottom of it.”

Kansas State Archaeologist Robert Hoard said that based on the Spanish accounts and the evidence of a large settlement, it’s “plausible” that Blakeslee has found Etzanoa.

Still, he would like more evidence.

The early Great Plains had long been imagined as a vast empty space populated by nomadic tribes following buffalo herds. But if Blakeslee is right, at least some of the tribes were urban. They built large towns, raised crops, made fine pottery, processed bison on a massive scale and led a settled existence. There were trade connections all the way to the Aztec capital Tenochtitlan in Mexico.

"So this was not some remote place. The people traded and lived in huge communities," Blakeslee said. "Everything we thought we knew turns out to be wrong. I think this needs a place in every schoolbook."

And that may just be the beginning. Blakeslee has found archaeological evidence in Rice and McPherson counties for other large settlements extending for miles, which he believes existed around the same time as Etzanoa.

He has published his findings in the peer-reviewed journal Plains Anthropologist, and next spring he will present his evidence for Etzanoa at the annual meeting of the Society for American Archaeology. A bigger excavation is planned for next summer.

The Wichita Nation, based three hours south in Anadarko, Okla., is watching all of this carefully. Experts believe the Etzanoans were their ancestors.

“The accounts of Oñate and Coronado have been interpreted for years,” said Gary McAdams, cultural program planner and historic preservation officer for the Wichita and Affiliated Tribes, which number about 3,300. “We had a suspicion it was settled like this, but now it’s starting to be documented, which makes it feel more real.”

In the meantime, Arkansas City is trying to determine how to promote its new claim to fame. Etzanoa remains mostly underground or on private land. Yet that hasn’t deterred interest.

“We get about 10 calls a day to see the lost city,” said Pamela Crain, director of the Convention & Visitors Bureau. “The vision is to have a visitors center. The other key is to persuade landowners to allow people onto their property.”

Professor Donald Blakeslee of Wichita State University shows a black pot unearthed by student Jeremiah Perkins, behind him. David Kelly / For The Times

Russell Bishop still has the arrowheads he collected as a kid in Arkansas City. David Kelly / For The Times

Limited tours began last spring, focusing on key historical and archaeological sites. Town leaders are hoping for a UNESCO World Heritage site designation.

Back at the dig site, all eyes were on Jeremiah Perkins as he lifted the hefty black potsherd from the dirt.

Blakeslee dropped into the pit for a closer look. It was the largest artifact of the summer, perhaps 12 inches high.

“That’s a nice big cooking pot,” he exclaimed.

Yet many mysteries remain about the people of Etzanoa.

“How were they organized? How did they farm the bluffs? How did they maximize bison herds?” Blakeslee asked. “The questions go on and on and on.”

And the thought of that made him smile.

[xaz-fr]

First - Previous - Next

Set in a fantasy world of the semi socialist society Fey Alliance with magic, dick head dragon riders, benevolent necromancers, and even bigger dick head gods of mischief. The Zealous Servant is the story about a guy named Spayar who, has to keep his crown prince of a bff from being murdered by his entire family by murdering them first. Though Spayar just wants to take a nap and find a cute boy to kiss and not have to worry about his corpse potentially being dragged through the street after a war. Better win that shit then.

I will only ping this particular list once and if you want to be pinged for future posts a like or reblog will get you on the next pinglist. Reblogs (especially with a dumb comment but not required) are way more appreciated as it allows other people to see the work

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My favorite thing about Spayar is that no matter how cool he is or becomes this chapter still happens and shows he’a fucking idiot lols.

On the few clear days in the Meltong Basin during the wet season Assarus came to life like an ant hive. Most people tried to stay indoors as often as possible in the autumn because it rained nearly every day, so when the sky was clear and the weather warlockd predicted no rain everyone made sure to make the most of it. Spayar was on his mare in traffic, Duren sitting in front of him, sitting straight up and looking all around. Thankfully Spayar still had several inches on him or it would be a problem. 

His mare barely noticed the extra weight. She had a deep brown coat, thick legs, and great big hooves with great feathering. She was a horse who's ancestors had once worked the fields and now were the mounts of royalty and their favored. Von had gifted her to Spayar three years ago when Spayar complained about always having different horses wherever they went. Now she was his, he couldn't even begin to think of how expensive a horse like Spayar's was, trained for battle and didn't even flinch when her rider used magic. Not to mention the size, she was massive, and everyone got out of her way.

"Where are we going?"  Duren asked, turning around to look at Spayar, holding onto the pommel to keep from falling off.

"You'll see," though of course Duren knew why. He'd begged and begged Spayar over breakfast to show him how to ride and Spayar had given in if only to just make him shut up. By now they were leaving Bellringer and into South Garden which looked like it was trying very hard to mimic the style of Nedrag and the Garden with it's clean, boxy, buildings and covered in fauna. The city of Assarus or Surassa themselves had no one culture. They were a melting pot of all the provinces, and thus all the kingdoms the Alliance had conquered in its two thousand year being. Parts of South Garden looked like Nedalia or Dalican, there were motifs from the Yellow Hills in South Garden and he saw symbols from the city Peonia painted on the sides of buildings. People from the west of the Alliance had settled South Garden, much like the east had settled in Bellringer with it's gray stone buildings and clocks and its focus on craft rather than aesthetic.

"Shouldn't we be going outside the city?" Duren asked since South Garden was further in and really Spayar just wanted to get to Tradesmens as quickly as possible since unlike Peonia it sometimes mimicked itself after South Garden was one of the most twisting and confusing districts in the capital other than perhaps Cat's Cradle, even the Mire and Downriver were more organized than this.

"You'll see," Spayar just said again pushing his mare through a busy intersection full of people. When they saw his big war horse they jumped out of the way. Spayar was trying to be nice but he was getting annoyed with how busy this damn city was and he had a big horse. Big horses won over busy pedestrians.

"I can see Swan Island from here," Duren pointed once they finally got through South Garden and into Tradesmens. Spayar looked and indeed they could see the holy island from here over the low buildings and warehouses of Tradesmens, meaning Spayar was way off course. "Are we going to Swan Island?" Duren asked, confused.

"No," even as he made his mare head for the river. They came up to the walled bank of the Meltong and could see Swan Island easily. A small lake had formed here in the Meltong river in a low part of the land before it continued its journey south to the Break and the Fea’staal Sea. behind. Swan Island sat in the middle of the lake and it was a large, beautiful park, filled with temples. From here they could see people going in and out of them and people on horses or people enjoying the sunlight on the grass or under the trees. 

"Can we go to Swan Island?" Duren asked.

"I thought you wanted to learn to ride," Spayar said.

"Yeah I know, but we rarely go to Swan Island."

"Another time. I'll take you and the girls on Asumsest if you want," and he turned his horse to start down the road, running parallel to the river, towards the Winter Palace at the top of the hill in the distance. Tradesmens was full of canals that went into warehouses from the river and looked more like something from the country of Tipin or even Joti than anything else. Bridges spanned every canal for horses and pedestrians, though they were too steep and high to allow bigger boats through, so carriages had to take other routes. Few people were on the River Road but there were a lot of boats in the river. The Meltong was always full of boats and today was especially bad since it was full of trade ships and barges as well as personal boats with brightly colored sails or sides. At the very least both the river and the river road were orderly. 

The River Road wound north and east, through parts of South Garden, where Spayar didn’t let anyone get in his way lest they get trampled by war horse hooves, and then through the entire length of Uptown. The Hillsman children all went to school in Uptown. Mostly because their father could afford the cabby ride there and back every day and Anora’s private secondary schooling there. It was a wealthy neighborhood and it seemed like the was a bank on every street from every major city in the Alliance. At the last everyone moved with purpose here, no dawdling or frolicking about like in South Garden. Here people were all business and people stayed on the side walks and out of the traffic of horses, carriages, and some strange two wheeled contraption Spayar had never seen but flew down the street as quick as any horse. It looked like a buggy but wasn't pulled by a horse. He have to look into that.

When the River Road finally dumped them into Fey's Shadow Duren turned to Spayar accusingly. Spayar just rose his brows at his brother. Duren frowned the Hillsman frown at Spayar and turned back around. In Fey's Shadow the roads were wide and well kept, the manses behind their tall, thick, walls, were every style in the Alliance. The wealthiest people lived in Fey's Shadow and most nobles had houses here as well, and built their mansions in the style of their home province. You could see the entire gambit of architectural styles in Fey's Shadow from the low, spider web-like dwellings of the Wren-Kel, to the tall, low eaved, state house of the Peony. Spayar kept his horse on still and Duren's head kept moving, looking all around, trying to see everything. A lot of the houses were out of sight behind the walls but he tried, to caught glimpses of them through the gates.

At some point they came to the Twin Switches bridges, where the Meltong looped back around to itself and were only a few hundred feet apart. Two identical bridges built in a northern style spanned both parts of the Meltong and as they crossed the first bridge you could sort of see over the thick, protective, wall of the North estate. Duren raised himself up in the saddle a bit as though to see better before sitting back down. The North estate was the most heavily fortified estate they’d seen thus far, and the largest. Spayar knew there were bigger ones than the North’s, but it was up there.

“Who lives there?” Duren asked Spayar.

“The Norths,” Spayar said.

“Wow,” he said, “Do you know them?”

“By reputation, now sit down I can’t see,” and Duren turned right way round and sat properly as they started to cross the second Switch. Very shortly after they’d passed the North estate the road started to slant upwards to the Palace which gleamed like a snow capped mountain from the peak. 

There were no walls around the grounds of the Winter Palace, just like the rest of Assarus. There hadn't been an attack on the capital in two thousand years when neighboring nations had thought the young Alliance weak. Even the Federation wasn't stupid enough to attack their northern capital. You touched Assarus and a wrath that couldn't be imagined was unleashed. Not since Sinou's death had anyone tried to take Assarus or rather, Surassa, with any serious intent. The first Asuras had made sure the fear of what the Le'Acard could do would be felt through the ages until the end of time.

No one stopped Spayar as he rode up to the palace and Duren started to shift in front of him in wonder. It was above Duren to ever think of coming to the Winter Palace. His brother had been born and raised in Bellringer and he wasn't a knight, or a courtier or anyone of importance really.

Spayar didn't get too close to the Palace, instead he went around to the side where the stables were, where his own horse had been bred. A stable hand came out to see him when he got closer. "Sir," he bowed when he saw Spayar. Spayar recognized him.

"Oh stand up Jill," Spayar said, unimpressed. The stable hand, Jill, looked up, a rueful smile on his face like what Spayar did to Von Jill bowed to Spayar to annoy him.

The oldest son of a talented seamstress Jill was a spry young man Spayar's age with a gap in his front teeth, large ears, big green eyes, and hair the color of a carrot that stuck out wildly from any hat he tried to wear. They'd been sort of friends before Spayar had met Von, more friends because their mothers were friends. After Jill had finished his mandatory schooling in Bellringer he’d begged Spayar to get him a job in the Palace. So Spayar had and now he worked in the stables, right where Jill wanted to be with his love of animals. "You ain't impression' no one,” casually taking on the low born drawl of those in Middleton where he knew Jill lived, across the river from Bellringer.

Jill laughed and stood up straight, walking over to take the mare's bridle as Spayar dismounted with a grunt. Damn horse sometimes felt too big for him, even with his long legs. "Wha'cha here for?" Jill asked.

"Riding lessons, c'mon Duren," he held his arms up for his little brother. Duren dragged one leg over the saddle so he was sitting with both on the same side and then slid down into Spayar's arms. He wasn't strong enough to catch Duren anymore, his brother too big for that, but he could make sure he got to the ground safely.

"For who? You? You’re one of the best riders I know," and Jill sucked on his gap.

"No no, for my brother," Duren stood behind Spayar. He didn't know Jill, Spayar wasn't surprised, the damn guy slept with the horses now and rarely went home to Middleton despite talking like he'd lived there his entire life. Spayar also didn’t see or mention Jill like he did his actual friends. They’d been boys together but had nothing in common anymore and didn’t really interact except for times like these. "I need an easy horse, lower to the ground than her," he patted his mare's neck fondly.

"Wan’a pony?" he asked, "We have a few of ‘em marshy geldings.”

"Yeah, that sounds fine."

"You got it," and then he turned back towards the stables, leading Spayar's horse away. As he did Jill yelled, "Mavok, get one of the ponies saddled up!"

"Who was that?" Duren asked him.

"A friend," Spayar said, Duren just looked confused. "What?" he asked.

"You have other friends other than the prince?" Duren asked.

"Of course I do," Spayar said irritably. Spayar had a lot of friends, though few good ones, and countless acquaintances he knew more about than he had any right to. "Vondugard isn't my only friend."

"Seems like," Duren said, making a face, "dooim says so a least."

"Dad doesn't know half the things I do," thank the gods for that. “Don’t listen to everything dad says, he’s not always right.”

Duren frowned, not liking Spayar talking about their dad in any negative light. “Why do I have to ride a pony? I want to ride a horse," Duren decided to complain about that instead.

"A pony is fine to start with and probably as much as a horse as you'll ever ride," he patted Duren's shoulder. Duren looked at him sourly. "You're a smith brother, not a knight, you got no need for a horse."

"What about you then? Are you a knight?"

"No," Spayar agreed. Gods no he wasn't a knight.

"Then why do you have a horse?"

Spayar laughed, "More than just knights own horses, Duren. You see people not knights on horses don't you?" Duren nodded slowly. "A horse is just expensive. Expensive to buy, expensive to care for, expensive to house. I'm really lucky to have a horse like mine. But you," he tapped his brother's nose, "will be fine with a pony for today. Once you get better we'll move you to a horse."

"Okay," Duren said, Spayar could see the wheels of Duren's mind turning. But before he could figure it all out Jill was back leading a pony, fully saddled. It was a fairly tall pony, rather thin, with long, narrow, legs, but still many hands shorter than Spayar’s mare.

"Here w’are, one of them marshy ponies of LoHanJo'in," meaning it was a Adoshade horse. They'd bred them from the water ponies who lived in and around the Boggart swamps that took up most of LoHanJo'in province. They were just tall enough to stand above the water line most places and short enough to stay out of the way of the lower branches of the trees in the swamps and small enough to squeeze between trees to escape predators.

"Thanks," Spayar said and Jill handed him the lead.

"His name's Ollie, ‘e's a good boy," and Jill patted the pony's rump, Ollie swished his tail.

"We'll have him back before lunch probably," Spayar said.

"No rush. Hillsman can take him out as long as he wants, Stablemaster said that."

“Really?’ Spayar asked, raising his brows at Jill.

“Aaaah, not in so many words,” Jill said, grinning a gap toothed grin.

“Great,” Spayar said, half laughing, “Take care of my horse while I'm out."

Jill laughed, "She'll be a princess while she's here," he promised.

Spayar grinned and motioned to his brother to follow him as he led him and the pony away from the stables. "Spayar," Duren asked as they went to a field. Unlike most of the land around the capital the hill the palace sat on was hard ground. It was why Spayar had picked up here and not just anywhere, Duren wouldn't have to worry about potholes or wetland.

"Yeah?" Spayar asked.

"Does your horse have a name?"

Spayar looked up from where he was checking the pony's bridal, "Uh... no," he realized. He'd never named his horse. Three years and his horse didn't have a name. It had honestly never occurred to him.

Duren hadn’t been expecting Spayar to actually agree with him that his horse didn’t have a name. "It doesn't?"

"I guess not," Spayar admitted and looked back on his life choices where he hadn’t named his own horse.

"You should name her," Duren insisted.

"I wouldn't even know what to call her," Spayar said, "I always just call her girl."

"That's a terrible name." Spayar frowned, now he felt weird about it. How had he not noticed he'd never named his own horse? He’d had her for three years. How hadn't anyone noticed? Or what if they had but had felt like it wasn’t their place to point it out? Maybe everyone knew Spayar’s horse didn’t have a name and wondered what was wrong with him. It made Spayar feel self conscious about the entire thing. He couldn’t just go around asking people if they knew his horse’s name either because then if they didn’t know then they would. "You should think of a name for her," Duren said.

"I guess," Spayar said, though honestly giving his horse a name now would be more weird since he was so used to her not having one. "I'll think about it, now lets get you up.” Mainly he just wanted to get off the subject of his horse not having a name. Hopefully Duren would forget that they’d ever had this conversation.

He showed Duren how to mount a horse. Duren climbed onto Ollie's back with only a bit of trouble. Spayar handed Duren the reigns and saw that Jill had also given him a long lead line as well. Thanks Jill. "Marshy ponies are really well trained," Spayar told his brother to continue to stay off the subject of his own horse. “So you just need to give it a little nudge to get him going. With your heel... yeah like that," and Duren got the pony to start to walk. "Not so tight on the reins," he said as he let the lead rope out.

"How do I turn?" Duren asked.

"Pull them the direction you want them to go. Not too hard," and Duren did so. The pony started to moved in an arc with Spayar as it's center point. Spayar turned as the pony walked and Duren was so focused on the pony it was like he’d forgotten his brother was an absolute idiot.

"Spayar," Duren said after he'd walked the pony around Spayar in a circle a few times "what's a gelding?"

"It's a boy horse that can't have children."

Duren was paying attention to the pony when he asked, "Like you?"

"What! No. I'm not a gelding," thank the gods he wasn't. He rather enjoyed all his equipment, and all their functions.

"But you can't have children," Duren looked at Spayar.

"I am fully capable," Spayar said, trying not to be irritated. Duren was only eight, he was allowed to be stupid. It was surprisingly difficult to not be angry though. "I just won't."

"Cause boys can't have babies?"

"Exactly," Spayar said, "And a gelding is a horse who's been castrated. It's different."

"Well what's castrated mean?"

"It means they cut the balls off." Spayar laughed at Duren's horrified face. His brother looked down at his lap like to assure himself he was still in one piece. "They only do it to horses,” he assured Duren. That didn't mean Spayar couldn't think of at least a dozen reasons or crimes that would get a man castrated, and not just the balls either.

"Why do they do that?"

"To make them calmer."

"But what about making more horses?"

"They don't geld all the stallions Duren," Spayar sighed, "and the Adoshade only gift out or sell gelded marshy ponies, so other places can't breed them."

"Why?"

"Politics, don't worry about it," yeah only Spayar had to worry about that sort of stuff. "Try and make your pony go faster," Spayar encouraged to get them off the talk of horse balls. First making Spayar come to the realization his horse didn’t have a name and now horse balls. Something was wrong with his little brother. Duren tapped the pony again and Ollie started to go faster.

They were out there for a while until Duren said his legs hurt. "Owww," he complained as he got off Ollie. "Why does that hurt so much?"

"You aren't used to it," Spayar said, patting Ollie who looked ready for a rest and to not go in circles anymore. Duren was rubbing the inside of his thighs, looking pained. "Lets head back to the stable, I'm sure Ollie wants his lunch," and he started to walk, Duren rubbed for a few more seconds before following.

"You rode all the way to Peonia and back in like two weeks,” Duren said, looking at Spayar with something like awe.

"I did," he agreed.

"Didn't it hurt?"

Spayar shrugged, "It's just uncomfortable. You get used to it honestly, from being in the saddle so much."

"Doesn't your dick hurt though?"

Spayar snorted, "Usually the whole area just goes numb before it starts to hurt."

"You've ridden a horse with a numb butt?" Duren cried, eyes wide.

"Yeap," Spayar said. "But I ride all the time. The more you do the less it hurts."

"Oh," Duren looked contemplative a moment. "You're not a knight, right Spayar?"

"Nope."

"Then what are you? You can fight and do magic like a knight and a  warlock, but you aren't are you?"

"I'm not a knight," Spayar said, "all magic users are warlocks, you know that."

"Then what are you?" Spayar thought about that a moment. What was he? "Spayar?"

"I'm thinkin'," Spayar said as they approached the stables. Jill didn't meet them this time and they entered the building. "Hello," he called. The royal stables were huge and each stall had a name plaque beside the door. Despite that it was easy to get lost and it wasn’t best to wander without a stablehand to guide you. "Hello," he called again. It'd take them forever to find Ollie's stall on their own. He sighed and started down the stall lined corridor, at the very least he could find Ollie's stall. Though he also needed to find his horse. This was probably a horrible idea. Where was everyone?

They walked through the stables to the other side where there was a covered area that led to one of the two large courtyards that stood guard next to the large looping drive at the front of the palace. There they found seemingly all the stable hands, standing back and out of the way. In front of them was a gilt carriage pulled by a team of four, black, horses of the same sick as his own made and standing beside it was a fair haired woman who was yelling at the holsters. Spayar recognized her by voice alone, it was Von's second oldest sister; Obi. 

"What's going on?" Spayar asked one of the stable hands quietly, thankfully Duren had enough sense to be silent.

"Her highness keeps changing her mind about what she wants," they said, frowning. "First she wanted white horses, than brown horses, now black horses, and only females. Something' wrong with the carriage, this or that uhg.” 

"Well... I have a pony that needs to be put away," Spayar said.

"At least it's something to do, what's his name?"

"Ollie."

"Right, I'll take him. You got a horse, sir?” they said and took Ollie’s lead. Meanwhile Obi was still yelling, irritated something wasn't happening fast enough. Spayar hated Obi. Spayar genuinely hated few people, but Obi was one of them. She was a handful.

“Yes, she’s a royal breed, dark brown coat, white hairs, Jill put her away for me.”

“Ah, I know that one. I’ll bring her here, sir,” and they left with Ollie.

Spayar turned around when he heard Obi crack one stable hand across the face. "Do not talk back to me," she yelled at the man who was now on the ground, hand over one side of their face.

"Apologizes your highness, I was merely-

She stepped on him, stomped was more a correct term honestly. The stable hand cried out, his sound of pain startling the horses. "I said do not talk back to me!" 

"I'm sorry," the stable hand stammered. Spayar knew he shouldn’t intervene. He didn’t really have much to do with the other royals unless they put themselves in front of him. It was less messy and he wouldn’t get to know them and feel bad when he plotted their murder. He was about to turn away and take Duren with him when he recognized the stablehand. He cursed to himself. Of course it had to be Jill. Of course it had to be because Can’dhe liked to torment him. Liked to put things in his way and test his character.

He looked down at his brother and saw his brother recognized Jill as well. What would it look like if Spayar just turned a blind eye? How could he explain to his baby brother that it was better if he didn’t get involved? He couldn’t. Not after Spayar had called Jill his friend. What sort of person left their ‘friend’ to be beat over nothing. He sighed a little. He was about to do something stupid and reckless and he wasn’t looking forward to it.

"Learn to listen when your betters speak," Obi spat made to stomp on Jill again. This time Spayar flicked his hand to cast a spell and caught her heeled foot in mid air with a messy weave that clung to the air on spider silk connections. It did hold her though. She whirled on the stable hands accusingly, fire in her cerulean blue eyes. "Who's doing that?" she demanded.

Nothing for it. He’d started this, he had to finish it. Spayar stepped forward, leaving Duren with another stable hand who didn't need to be told to hold his brother back. "Hello your highness," he bowed to her neatly, extending his arms a bit and wishing he was wearing a bit nicer clothes. Anyone watching saw it as mocking but Obi, unobservant as always, saw it as respectful. What she did see was that he didn’t bow nearly as low as he would to Von or even the king. The king. Her nostrils flared angrily.

Obi was the prettiest of Von’s siblings and loved the gut, emulating all the most popular styles from there. Obi had long, delicate, golden locks she wore in immaculate ringlets of the Dalicites. Her nails were always freshly manicured and painted like a Nedalian. Today they were apple red with yellow tips. Her bright blue eyes were ringed in Aldashi style liner, the wings conservative like she’d done them herself and was intimidated by them. They weren’t nearly as long or elegant as Tassa’s. Even her clothes were western Alliance with a high hem on her skirt over a pair of lace tights and a bodice that showed off her flat, golden, stomach and pushed her breasts together while keeping her shoulders bare. For the aesthetics she was lovely. Under that gilded facade she was a miasma of stupidity and temper made of methane that just needed the slightest spark to erupt in either spouting off something so ignorant it actually gave you pause, or she’d turn you inside out with a temper tantrum.

"Spayar," she said his name like he was a piece of shit on her shoe, "what do you think you're doing?"

"Keeping you from hurting an innocent man," Spayar said calmly, standing up again. He didn't avert his eyes when he spoke to Obi either, he didn't know how to anymore. Von demanded that Spayar looked at him on level when they spoke and he did it out of habit to all people of standing.

Obi looked down and sneered at Jill who swallowed. "If I want to it's my prerogative," she said and snapped Spayar's weave holding her leg like he knew she would. This time when Obi made to stomp on Jill Spayar uttered one word and Obi lost her footing and fell ass up on her back. There was a stunned silence in the courtyard. Here Spayar had to play carefully or he’d have a fire on his hands. He wasn’t a pyromacer either and Von want here.

"That man is under your mother's employ and thus under the protection of the Le'Acard," Spayar said, hands behind his back so no one could see how hard they were trembling. He wasn't angry. He was afraid. He wasn't afraid of much but pissing off someone who could kill him effortlessly was one of them. Von wasn't around to protect him from his sister like sometimes. It was one thing to kill your brother’s best friend when he was alone, it was quite another to do it in front of him. Especially a d’aelar. Normally that would make him immune from most attacks by the Le’Acard. Not from Obi. Obi didn’t care. When she was angry or insulted and not handled carefully she’d take on anyone.

Obi stared at him like she couldn't believe he'd really just done that. He'd just humiliated her in front of a bunch of stable hands. "What are you looking at?" she snarled at Jill who was also staring, slightly slack jawed.

"Nothing, your highness," he looked away quickly

She got to her feet and marched over to Spayar. Obi was shorter than him, but it didn't matter, she was like fire. Literally she was fire and was a pyromacer like her brother Von. For a second Spayar thought the tips of her coiled hair sparked and became flame. Not unheard of for a powerful pyromacer. "You would do such a thing?" she hissed.

Spayar kept very calm. Obi won when you talked back, when you got angry. He'd seen enough of her fighting with Teldin, Tallalsala and Dellin to know how she was, what she did, and how temperamental she was. When Obi started to smolder if you struck back in anger like she did she’d just ignite and you’d lose. It was something that happened often enough and only staying perfectly calm in the face of her wrath would see her be handled out of that spark of rage. “I would," he said. 

"I am a Le'Acard, you would lay a hand on me?" she demanded, fire in her eyes, her breath as hot as a forge on his face.

"I did no such thing-

"You still-

"I simply stopped you from making a mistake," he just talked right over her. The only way for Obi to hear you was to just talk over her.

"Me? A mistake?" she laughed.

"So you would rather me tell the stable master you beat one of his best stable boys and then he would tell your mother?" Spayar asked her curiously.

Obi froze. She hadn't thought of that. Of course she hadn't. Obi was an idiot of the first degree. Of Von's siblings she was the least he was worried about because Obi didn't have the patience or brain power to plan a coup, let alone the temperament to see it through to completion. She might know Tallalsala was meeting with the Clan and Teldin had the White Foot and Wren-Kal in his pocket, but that meant nothing to Obi. It was like telling her there was a particular bad thunderstorm outside. It would pass, as it always did. "My mother?" she asked and it was like Spayar had dropped a block of ice on white hot iron.

"Yes," Spayar said, "Asuras Virilia takes great pride in the horses her stable breeds, and thus those who work there. You wouldn't want her to know you were abusing them would you?" Spayar was talking out of his ass of course. Obi was too dumb to know differently. She believed everything people told her. A temper with gullibility did not make a good match and was how you threw sand over the tinder of her temper. He looked at the carriage, "Didn't you have somewhere to be, my lady?" he asked her rather innocently, switching topics and confusing her by now being worried for her well being and her time table.

"I do," she said slowly, unsure what he was doing or how to react appropriately since just a moment ago she’d been ready to burn him alive.

"I would hate for you to be late," there was a driver already sitting in the seat up front, staring at Spayar like he was crazy. "Since I'm sure it's terribly important if you need to go."

"It is," she said and pursed her lips at him. She hadn't even realized what he was doing. How did Von have a sibling like Obi?

"I'm sure they're waiting for you," he moved his fingers and the carriage door opened, beckoning Obi.

"This idiot-

"Had the best intentions your highness. You really shouldn't worry about such trvilalries," and already Obi had gone from being mad at him for humiliating her to complacent and ready to do what he said. If you didn’t set her off Obi was actually very easy to deal with. It was just she was easily set off. You just had to use a certain tone with her and she cooled down and did what you said once you showed her that yes; you were the boss here, not her. Honestly she was a bit like a horse. If the rumors were true she was ridden about as much as the common use horses in the stables too. "Driver," he called, "where are you going?"

"We're going to Mirin, my lord," the driver said. The capital of Kou. That made Spayar slightly uneasy. A million possibilities ran through his head about why Obi would be going to the capital of Kou. She had to have a handler, behind the scenes, trying to put her on the throne. If only so she’d be a figurehead.

"That's a long way," Spayar said, “Who are you going to see?”

“The Lady Lenni,” she said. Spayar wracked his brain. Who was the Lady Lenni?

“Well if you don’t leave soon it’ll be too late in the day to make any way down the Westernlance. You wouldn’t want to put off seeing her another day would you?”

“No,” Obi said adamantly.

“Then we should get you on your way,” he said, barely even in the moment with Obi. He was thinking of who the Lady Lenni was. He helped her into the carriage and Spayar closed the door with a pleasant smile. He waved to the driver once he stepped back and the driver, who finally had to look away from his stupefied amazement at Spayar, flicked the reins to put the horses into a trot. Obi would be out of the city before she realized Spayar had manipulated her and she’d told him where she was going and who she was seeing.

"That was amazing," Jill said from the ground. "How'd you do that?"

"I have a lot of practice dealing with Le'Acard," Spayar offered Jill his hand. Jill took it and Spayar hauled him to his feet. Jill wasn't  really wounded, but he was a bit battered. "Go to the palace healer, get healed up, if they throw a fuss say I sent you."

"You're right amazing Spayar," Jill said.

Spayar just shrugged, "Go on, me and Duren are for home."

"Right right," Jill said, and dusted himself off a bit. "Thanks," he said again, grinning his gap toothed grin at Spayar. Spayar went back to find his brother, "What you lot standing around for?" Jill cried at the other stable hands, "You gots stuff to do, so go do it!" and they scattered.

Duren was standing with his mare and another man that made Spayar stop dead, the warm feeling of victory over Obi leeching away instantly. 

Teldin was holding onto Spayar's horse’s reins and standing next to Duren like it was the most natural thing he could do. "Your highness," he bowed to Teldin much lower than he had for Obi. Unlike her Teldin actually garnered real respect. 

As with the rest of the past few generations of Le’Acard Teldin was fair and blonde, his hair in last decade’s style of long and slicked back. Unlike some of his siblings his skin was the color of flour and his eyes were such a brown they were practically black. He had mean eyes like an owl's and a long, proud looking face. He was well built and filled his autumn coat well. This was the man who threatened Von's life, and thus Spayar's own life; the oldest son of the Asuras.

"What can I do for you, your highness?" Spayar asked, straightening. As he did he noticed that twined around Teldin’s neck was a long, leaf green, snake with eyes too smart to be an animal. A shapeshifter. Spayar knew who it was instantly and it put him on more edge than he already was with Teldin’s appearance. Sade was a powerful warlock and shifter and practically Teldin’s second in command. She was practically another Spayar. Why would she be here with Teldin now?

"That was very impressive," Teldin said, he had the voice of a singer, the type you could listen to forever. "Not many people can so expertly manipulate Obi out of a rage," he said it thoughtfully but also like he didn’t actually care.

"You're too kind, your highness," Spayar said.

"Where's my brother?" he asked.

"Vondugard, your highness?"

"Who else would I ask you about?" though they both knew realistically Spayar probably knew the whereabouts of all the Le'Acard children despite only having been in Assarus a few days since his trip to the gut.

"I don't know. I just came home from serving time a few days ago. He wasn't here when I arrived,” he lied.

Teldin put a mean stare onto Spayar but he didn't flinch, didn't move a single inch. "You're a good d'alaer," Teldin said and cocked his head at Spayar in a very predatory fashion. "But you're wasted on my brother." Teldin knew Spayar was lying. He knew and knew Spayar knew he knew but pushing Spayar to answer would get him no where nor would it actually help him. He was just testing Spayar, like he always did, to see what he could get out of him.

"Your brother takes very good care of me," Spayar swallowed. This wasn't the first time Teldin had approached Spayar about changing his alliances. Teldin and Tallalsala had both done it, since they were the two better players on the field. They knew what it meant that Von had a d'alaer and they didn't. Sinou had had a famous d'alaer who helped him conquer the first realms of the Alliance. It was the opinion of most of the Alliance and especially the Le'Acard that Asuras who had a d'alaer on their sides were more competent rulers, better  in every way. That they could instill such zealous devotion in someone meant they knew what they were doing. Teldin, Tallalsala and Dellin all hated Von in equal measure they were jealous of him because he had Spayar; his d'alaer.

Spayar was the d'aelar of this generation, the first one since since the early eighteen hundreds. His kind weren’t common and there was only ever one at a time. If there were more they’d constantly be compared until one was proclaimed the true d'aelar in the style of the d'aelar of old. The only way to get the benefit of a d'aelar now was to either kill Spayar and get your own or convince him that it was in his best interest to side with them. He’d been on the end of enough threats to himself and his family and promises of the world, stars and everything in between to know that it was serious for the Le’Acard. They knew the importance of his title, what it meant for them and the nobles, commoners and soldiers of the Alliance in the coming Conflict. The greatest Asuri had d’aelar. They wanted one too. Unfortunately there was only one Spayar.

"I would do better," Teldin said, "whatever he does for you I can do better.” Not the first promise Teldin had ever given him. “Or whatever he doesn’t do for you,” and Spayar did his best not to just grab his brother and bolt. It sounded like he was being courted and not asked to betray his best friend. Knowing Teldin there was all sorts of meaning behind those words and promises he’d follow up on to get the advantage over his siblings. Spayar did his best to not think about Von like that, let alone his viper of a brother.

"I'm not interested," Spayar said instead, once again putting his hands behind his back so Teldin wouldn’t see how they trembled. He just wanted Teldin to leave him alone. "I am Vondugard's d’aelar. His d'aelar I shall stay. As I’ve said before, I want nothing from you, Teldin,” he said. Sade’s body extended out towards Spayar a bit and the human eyes in a snake’s head were reproachful.

Teldin frowned, “You’re sure? Now’s the time to pick sides, d’aelar. Do you really want to be one of those who visits a temple of Lemp?” All the hair stood up on Spayar’s body. Most of the time just the presence of a d'aelar by a Le’Acard’s side was enough to rally most of the nation to them and they’d come through and sit on the throne. But sometimes, it wasn’t. The crown heir in question was killed. D’aelar knew they wouldn’t be spared after a Conflict’s close like their donalim. The only way out was to leave the Alliance and never return, leaving behind everything and one you’d ever known, or kill yourself. Since suicide was against their religion and the will of Lemp necromancers would assist people in their suicides. The d'aelar who went to temples of Lemp were a select few, and they all did so out of shame and grief when their best friends, or - in one case - their lover, had lost the Conflict.

“Careful,” Spayar said slowly, to not betray the hard beating of his heart. “Your dread is showing, your highness,” he said and bowed a little. Sade flicked her tongue at Spayar hatefully and he wondered what the hell had just gotten into him to say that to Teldin’s face. The prince wasn’t the least bit amused.

Teldin dropped his mare's lead and walked away without goodbye. Spayar's heart was all the way up in his throat as he walked away. He lurched forward, grabbed his horse’s lead and his brother’s hand and dragged them away.

"Spayar-

"Later," and Spayar said and stopped long enough to help Duren onto his horse. He scrambled up after his brother.

"But who was that-

"Duren," Spayar said sharply and kicked his mare into a canter to get away from the stables. “Not. Now.” He looked over his shoulder but didn’t see Teldin. Thankfully Duren didn’t ask any more questions and Spayar could focus on putting as much distance between them and the Palace as humanely possible. It was of course this time, when Spayar felt the stress of Teldin and the Conflict on his shoulders, that he remembered that Lady Lenni was the name of a the High Priestess of Belladha, goddess of wisdom. What a stupid thing he’d think of now and what a pointless person Obi was going to see. Spayar didn’t know if he was more annoyed with himself for knowing who Lenni even was, or for thinking about that instead of the fact that Teldin had just promised him if he didn’t join him that he’d make sure Spayar visited a temple of Lemp.

He really hated the royals.

[newstfionline]

Baghdad gets its groove back

By Liz Sly, Washington Post, Aug. 23, 2018

It’s nearing midnight on a Thursday and the streets are jammed with traffic. There are people heading home after dinner with family and friends, and people for whom the night has just begun.

At the newly opened Ibrahim Basha club, the party is just getting going. A Syrian singer with waist-length blond hair and sky-high pink heels is singing Arabic hits, accompanied by a talented Iraqi musician alternately playing the saxophone, the piano and the oud. When she breaks into old Iraqi favorites, the mostly male customers sitting at tables strewn with whiskey bottles get up and dance dabka, the traditional Arabic style that involves crescendos of rhythmic stomping.

Fifteen years after the U.S.-led invasion of Iraq plunged the country into a cycle of insurgency, dysfunction and war, Baghdad is undergoing a renaissance of sorts.

The insurgency still simmers and the dysfunction is as pronounced as ever. Iraqis angry at their leaders’ corruption and failure to deliver basic necessities such as electricity and water have spent the summer protesting in many parts of the country. There is little in the way of optimism among the wearied residents of a war-weary city that has been crushed too many times in the past to dare hope for a brighter future.

But for the first time in as long as anyone can remember, at least Baghdad isn’t at war. Although there are still explosions, and kidnappings are a problem, the relentless suicide bombings that deterred all but the hardiest revelers have abated since the territorial defeat of the Islamic State last year.

And the city is starting to breathe a little easier.

A more relaxed approach from lawmakers has allowed entertainment to flourish. A measure banning alcohol was voted down last year.

Cafes, clubs and bars are proliferating. There are shopping malls with cinemas showing the latest releases, including a glitzy glass enormity with a Dubai-style helicopter pad on the roof. There are restaurants on the river and plays at the theater and comedy nights at the coffeehouses.

On Fridays, poets recite their works and artists show off their paintings in the Ottoman-era gardens surrounding Mutanabbi Street, named for a 10th-century Iraqi poet who lived when Baghdad was at the epicenter of the civilized world.

The city still has a long way to go if it is to reclaim its past glories as a capital of culture and entertainment, Iraqis say. But there’s a widespread consensus that at no time in the past 40 years, since Saddam Hussein acquired absolute power and led Iraq into a series of ruinous wars, has Baghdad been as free and as fun as it is now.

“Every Iraqi has reached the conclusion that it is important to have as much fun as you can before you die,” said Alaa Kahtan, a theater director who had come to Coffee and Books, one of Baghdad’s hip new cafes that attracts a mostly literary crowd.

The absence of bombings is not the only reason for the new sense of freedom, Kahtan said. The Shiite militias and their associated political parties, which surged to prominence in the wake of the U.S.-led invasion of Iraq in 2003, are now more powerful than ever. They won big in the elections this spring and are set to play a leading role in whatever government emerges.

Their ascent, however, has also propelled the militias away from the petty intrusions into people’s lives that once characterized their attempts to assert authority, such as forcing women to cover their hair and blowing up liquor stores. A move to ban alcohol by the Shiite religious parties that dominate parliament was voted down last year.

“The militias have left these things behind and have ambitions to a bigger role. They don’t care what you wear or if you drink alcohol,” Kahtan said. “I feel more free in my theater, more free in my passions. I have a girlfriend, and I can hug her in the street.”

There is no guarantee the current mood will last, said novelist Ahmed Saadawi, who was sitting at a nearby table discussing a cover for the next edition of his book “Frankenstein in Baghdad.”

“All this could be reversed by the politicians, who have shown their foolishness time and again,” he said. “But we hope they have learned from the tragedies that went before, because neither Sunnis nor Shiites nor Kurds have the energy for another conflict.”

He credits ordinary Iraqis and their zest for life, rather than the inept government, for the new spirit. The surge of sectarianism that followed the 2003 invasion, when Sunnis and Shiites sought refuge in their religious identities and set about slaughtering one another, was an aberration, and Iraqis are reverting to their true selves, he said.

“There is something about the Iraqi character that dates back thousands of years,” he said, noting that historians credit Iraq with the invention of liquor some 7,000 years ago. “It is rooted in the Iraqi culture to have fun. Iraqis aren’t spiritual. They like to party.”

Some of the partying has a distinctly sordid air. The clubs lining Abu Nawas Street, which runs along the Tigris River across from the heavily fortified Green Zone--and is named for a beloved Iraqi poet who lived in the 8th century and wrote about wine and sex--are strictly men-only. Men pay steep prices to drink alcohol in the company of hostesses, and female customers aren’t allowed.

One of the somewhat more exclusive locales is the recently reopened bar on the rooftop of the Palestine Hotel, once a hangout for Baathist officials and now frequented by members of Iraq’s new elite. They pay $100 for bottles of whiskey and can choose company for the night from among the heavily made-up young women seated around the bar.

A doctor nursing a beer alone in one of the cushioned booths confided that he didn’t like the place but said there aren’t many better alternatives to grab a drink.

Many women are benefiting from the more liberal environment, too. Though most of the clientele at the Ibrahim Basha club were men, a middle-aged couple sat smoking shisha pipes and a family including women and children clapped to the music.

At the upscale Shawarma restaurant earlier that night, an Iraqi singer entertained a majority-female crowd, some wearing headscarves, some not, some in all-women groups. They tapped their feet and wiggled their shoulders and looked like they wanted to get up and dance, but didn’t.

Most Iraqis don’t drink, and it is cafes, where women can go out alone and freely mix with men, that have become the social focus. Until a few years ago, the dangers on the streets deterred families from allowing their daughters to go out alone, said Mariam Sultan, 24, who has a master’s degree in medical chemistry and works in a lab. She had come with a group of girlfriends to the Faisaliyah cafe, which opened last year and draws a mixed crowd with its comedy nights and live rock bands.

“People have become much more free in their attitudes,” she said.

For people who can’t afford cafes or bars, the Jadriyah bridge over the Tigris River serves as a sort of impromptu party venue. Typically, they come with cans of beer, turn on their car radios, and sometimes there is dancing.

The bridge is said to be the coolest spot in Baghdad because of the breeze that wafts down the river, and families come, too, especially in the summer when temperatures top 100 degrees even in the middle of the night.

“It’s too hot at home, so we come here, because there are lots of people and we can relax,” said Imad Salman, 50, who was standing on the bridge with his wife and three children. Thursday night had become Friday morning, a bit before 2 a.m.

Starting in mid-July, police have sought to stamp out alcohol consumption in the open air, and the bridge has become a target. As Salman spoke, a police patrol arrived. “Run, run, the police are coming,” someone shouted farther down the bridge. Everyone jumped into their cars and sped away.

Half an hour later, they were back. The police came back, too, and the people scattered again.

It was close to 3 a.m. and time for us to call it a night.

[prorevenge]

Tarnish my honor? How about no money or job?

tl;dr will be at the bottom as this is quite long story.

Names, places and dates have all been changed to conceal people’s identity in this event.

Context

Let me set the scene first, I had joined the Army direct from “high school” (for my colonial friends) and had a great time, however my contract was up and I had decided that I really wanted to go back into further education and redo my high school (As I failed everything as I was so focused on joining the Army at the time) with the intention on going to University. So, with that in mind I did not sign on for another contract with the Army I just left.

Now, it’s a bit depressing being in my early 20s, ex serving solider and living at home with his mother but that’s the way it had to be as the money I had saved from the Army was going directly towards my higher education not to mention that I spent most of my time applying to colleges trying to get on a course. I needed a part time job; it’s not that I was not applying for jobs the minute I was back at my mum’s house I just spent more time trying to get onto a course, it was just that within 6 months I was not even getting any interviews. My friends and family all said its more than likely being an ex-solider and the social climate at the time in Europe would have been against me getting a job. Then out of know where I get a phone call from Awesome Area Boss from a low tier model Retail Company (From now on shall be called AAB). I go to the interview and get on very well with AAB, AAB tells me the position is what they called “Key timers” which in a nut shell meant weekend staff and public holidays which was fine with me as my goal was my education. The pay was ok, I could not save anything but it would keep me afloat as it were, and to be honest from what I understood about the company it was quite relaxed worked. AAB offers me the job on the spot to which I was over the moon with, he asked me to start the following week. The following week comes around and bright eyed and bushy tailed I get to the shop. ABB introduces me to “Matt” our opposing force in this story.

The opposing force,

“Matt” (not real name of course) is in his late 30s and has only ever worked at this model shop. Matt at first seemed like a nice guy, a little unhygienic with his dirty work uniform but maybe that’s just me with uniforms, in hindsight he was only ever nice to me when AAB was on site and sadly AAB had like 6-9 shops to look after so this meant our tiny little shop was not a priority for him unlike the mega store in the capital city that was making the big money. Matt took his job with a pinch of salt often being lazy with his duties and bashing our customers and their kids not to mention making fun of my military background, belittled me in front of customers (I took this at first as banter, you have to understand I thought what went on the military would more than likely move over to civilian life and just assumed this was a fact of life) then I started to notice a pattern that this was emotional bullying there is no way he could physically bully me as I was bigger than him and physically fit and to some extent had some training, he knew this and thus emotional bullying was his weapon of choice. When ABB was not there he would often “order” me (His words not mine) to do jobs he could not be bothered doing, such as set up sale displays. He would often tell me he was “higher ranking” than me and that with my back ground I should do as he says (he was not higher than me he was just the full time employee at the store, same pay scale just did more hours than me). I did everything he said, for a few reasons. My first priority was I needed to keep this job and I had 3/4 month trial period, so I needed to keep in everyone’s good books to keep this job. He gave me jobs like cleaning the toilet (Which has never been cleaned in years) as “I was used to this type of job”. He would ask me to do big tasks like inventory stock 5 minutes before closing the store while he went out drinking with his mates over the road at a bar as apparently “head office had asked me for the stock take and not him” although a little store doing stock takes hours, yes this was paid work. For context as I was new to the area I did not have any real friends anyway as my mother was divorced while I was in the Army and separated from my step dad and living in the new area. So at that time I did not complain and I also believed that they had asked me to do such things. I never questioned authority, something I later had to learn to do.

The recce

Anyway, the trial period pasts by really quickly and AAB asks me in for a post-trial interview. He sits me down and starts to explain this is serious and explains if I am ok with it anything I say now will be recorded. I just assumed that this was part in parcel of what happens in these types of interviews and agree. AAB goes on to explain that money and stock are missing on the days that I was working. I was stunned! Even speechless, I started to panic and off the bat told the AAB that I had never stolen anything. Although I liked working for the company I don’t paint or play with models, and with the money gone I told him honestly I had no idea about this and was confused by all this.

AAB then thanks me for the attending the interview and stops recording the conversation (Pen and paper recording). AAB then states that “I can’t prove anything, so even if I had stolen anything, nothing could be proven that you had done it”. I was red with anger by this time with the implication that people thought I was stealing but kept my mouth shut as I’ve learned when I was in Army never open your mouth to a senior rank when angry (3 days cleaning a parade square with a butter knife for that life lesson but that’s another story). ABB then says that I’ve passed my initial trial period and have moved on to being an employee. This shocked me even more; I thought I was going to be fired there and then. ABB then said he believed that I did not take anything but had to investigate any accusation made by another member of staff and that it could be a input problem with the machines we use for stock and the till system we use for payment but he needed to ask all staff that worked these days. ABB being a full on dude just under toned what happened. Matt just told management that I was stealing.

Ok Matt, the game is on.

The calm before the storm

Matt was later asked to leave the company as his constant bashing of our customers and their kids one day led to head office getting to many complaints from customers about Matt. AAB then came to the shop to fill in for a full timer until someone was employed. Me and AAB get on really well and worked well together, I filled AAB on the finer details on working with Matt to which apparently he knew what was going on but could not move on anything until I complained about it to which I never did thinking this was a normal way of working life to AAB surprise but could also understand coming from my sort of background. Matt had made it very clear to AAB that he did not want anyone else working in the same store as him before I got hired but as the store was growing he needed help and so my position was made and the rest is history. AAB told me that Matt had tried to get me fired for months saying that I turned up to work late, drank beer before starting a shift and that I am possibly on drugs. The worst was that he suggested that I was to “close to the kids” that come into the store. AAB backed me 100% to the company directors and said these are false accusations (This is why he’s Awesome Area Boss).

Into the breach my friends

Years later I see Matt working as an estate agent for a local firm. Matt is wearing a full on suit, shit and shoes driving a company car looking pro. I was in my final year of my course but had left the model store I worked at as it was closed down. I got a part time job working at an internet café which funny enough was right next to Matt’s new estate agent firm. He even came into the café telling me “this is all you must be good for” and that he “earns more money than my education is worth”. So, it seems like hes out for me still for some unknown reason. Maybe he’s not happy with himself? Or very insecure? I could of completely shut him down physically again but it would only ever end up me being in jail and not him so there was no point to it. I just verbal told him if he carries on that a smack in the mouth would be the least of his worries. He leaves the internet café.

A woman comes over to me who was using one of our computers and asks what that was all about. I said that he and I go way back and he holds some hostility towards me. She then introduces herself as one of his customers and is in the final process of buying a house of him not only this but she has recommended him to all of her friends who are looking to sell their houses.

"CONTACT FUCKING FRONT" All I say is that she should be very careful as I know him to be very dishonest so much so that when we worked together he was let go because of some very shady actions but did not give her full details. She then divulges all this information how her husband did not like him but she thought he was ok to buy a house from which Matt stands to make some good commission % on (Before housing bubble economy in Europe) which would have been in the thousands. I said that to be honest I would not be surprised if something under handed was going on if he was their estate agent I would not trust him with a coffee order let alone a house. The women then asks me some more in-depth questions about the situation to which I did explain to her I feel uncomfortable about but I do want revenge on this scum bag. Turns out her husband is also ex services and can now understand why her husband did not like him either. I tell her everything that went on. Few days went past and I see Matt walking down the street past my café I think nothing of it but then noticed though out the day he did not come back to his office. Oh well he must be on holiday or something.

Turns out this lady complained about him to the firm and he quit before he would have been fired, I later heard that he made next to nothing as it was a commission based job and that the women had told all of her friends not to use this guy or the company anymore. The company was told nothing about my situation with Matt but about how Matt represented the company in such a bad way with how he talks to people that the company had to let him go or the women would take her business elsewhere. Justice is served!

tl;dr Ex-military joining the civilian life in a new job, coworker belittles me in front of customers, accused me of stealing and other criminal activity in a previous job. Years later find him working for an estate agent and manage to get him to quit his job before being fired and stop him from making a huge amount of money from sales commission by talking to his client.

(source) (story by Vonclausehitz)

[outvoo]

Interview with Chef Tu David Phu, part 2

OutVoo Interview with Chef Tu David Phu

Conducted by Ian Ippolito & Merced Gonzalez

Today we are talking to Chef Tu David Phu, a contestant on Bravo’s Top Chef, and one of Oakland’s very own. Since Oakland is where OutVoo was born, we are thrilled that Chef Phu is a fan of the app:

“Whenever I open up Yelp I want to know what’s near me and the thing I hate about Yelp is I have to type in where I am and what I’m looking for specifically.  [OutVoo] does that all for me!”

What were your initial thoughts of Oakland?

When my parents first immigrated over here they landed in Oakland.  My dad received a job offer in Minnesota, but after a couple of winters, and my sister getting frost bite, we returned.  Basically I’ve been in Oakland all my life.  I grew up in Oakland in the 90’s.  It was tough. Like murder capital tough!  I’m not the person to be resentful of that. I feel like within chaos and bad things there is always beauty.  I think the beauty that I had growing up in Oakland was cooking with my mom, having our own little tiny garden in the tiny apartment we lived in.  I found preciousness in the things we were blessed with.  

Oakland is experiencing a culinary renaissance.  What are your thoughts on the food scene?

I think it’s great! I think it’s more diverse now. The only thing I’m really sad about is the homeless situation.  I want to invite everyone to Oakland and I think that’s beautiful, but I just wish there was more regulation on the people who were displaced.

I think the Mayor is working on a few things.

I think the issue is bigger than the Mayor of Oakland.  I don’t blame the City of Oakland. It’s the flaws that we have in our systems.  There is something wrong and we pour money into building more prison systems and a fraction of that could house a lot of homeless people in California.  

When you complain about politics everything is intertwined.  In that aspect I believe in prevention and I think prevention starts at youth.

Were you surprised by this culinary renaissance?  

I’ve always believed in Oakland. I’ve always thought Oakland has so many amazing offerings.  Not just cuisine wise, but also ethnic wise.  There are so many different cultures.  I didn’t really appreciate it until I moved away. Then when I moved away I understood that Oakland is going to blow up so hard.  I moved away in 2010, I was in New York for 2 years.  

Top Chef! What was it like?

It was amazing!  When I signed on to the show...it was to have fun, interact, network and build a brand.  I felt Top Chef was the perfect opportunity for me to tell my story to a bigger audience.  I found that work very purposeful.

Coincidentally enough, there was an episode where I was able to work with immigrant women at Comal Heritage Food Incubator.  I worked with South American women who made green mole and pork for me.  I worked with Syrian women.  I’m not sure if it was in the episode.  There was a moment where we were exchanging our immigrant stories and they told me that they were in a refugee camp for 10 years.  My parents were in a refugee camp for one year during the Vietnam war.   I understand because I hear the stories from my family.  They were telling me the stories of the hardships they went through. They looked at me and said, “All we want to do is be able to cook.”  That sheer rawness of emotion and purity made me feel close to them.  I felt the suffering they felt through my own family and I had this human compassion moment.  I started shedding tears, Tanya Holland started sharing tears and a few of the other ethnic people started shedding tears.  Some people just can’t relate and I don’t hold that against them. The ethnic immigrant story and the suffering that comes along with it is very specific.  It resonates throughout generations.  I see it in the blood, sweat and tears of my parents working hard every fucking day.  They were janitors at the Fox Theater.  I have a tattoo of it.  They really did almost every laborious job you can probably think of to make ends meet. In my personal experience, specifically being on Top Chef, the most powerful thing that inspired me was that moment working with those women.  And I said on TV, this is probably the best meal I’ve ever had, partly because of the stories and compassion.  The centuries old recipes.  They made hummus that was beautiful.  They made lentil soup that was so simple but delicious. It was all hand made, they’re not fine dining trained, but at the same time I can confidently say I cannot execute the way they executed it. At that moment it just confirmed my notion and perception of cuisine and where it comes from.  In that moment I championed them and continue to champion the root of cuisine which is usually mothers and aunties.  The funny thing is, I’m a fine dining trained Chef, and I champion women, and that is were cuisine comes from, but that is not reflective in the industry. It’s weird to me that there is a lack of women in the industry because it’s so machismo.  Not to say women should be cooking, I’m just saying that the best food I’ve ever had came mostly from women.  So it’s revisiting that notion.  If there is any pinnacle, peak of Top Chef, that inspired me, that would be the moment.  

Has Top Chef affected your career? Has it changed your plans?

Are you talking about direct messages in Instagram?  (laughter)

It gets scary sometimes. There are extreme fans and regular fans, but I think for the most part, my portrayal on the show has been very positive.  And I think if you don’t give TV crap they can’t shoot crap out.  I was just myself and I wasn’t trying to be anybody else. It turned out for the good.  

You were a likable, lovable kind of guy, and you helped other people.

It’s not even about the point of me helping people out, I just was raised well.  That’s what my parents taught me.  I’ve been a Chef for a kitchen for a few restaurants and there are young cooks to this day that I keep in close relationships with. And I was very cognizant of how I behaved.  I do commencement speeches and I speak to and I hang out with kids.  I cook with them and I’m aware of the way I conduct myself and that what I role model could inspire and influence them in some way. At least I hope so.  So that is why I try to make sure to be positive.  I think it’s very important.  Not all Chefs think this way.  They can be egocentric, whatever it takes to win ...

It’s a competition, and you’re in a different element, some people snap.

If I’m going to beat someone, I want to beat them at their best.  I don’t want to beat somebody by default.  The reason why I helped out Bruce is because Bruce and I knew each other prior. We were colleagues and we had somewhat of a friendship.  But I wanted to challenge Bruce, I wanted to have the opportunity to challenge Bruce.  That’s the whole reason why I went on the show, I went to see my excellence versus your excellence.  I’m very happy with the Top Chef cast and we’re all a family and I’m very happy with the way I did.  I think just getting on the show was an accomplishment. You know how many people apply for the show? Thousands and thousands.

Was it a long process?

I went through several interviews.  I applied for Season 14 and they told me to come back the next year.  I came back and got on.  There are some people on the show that apply like five, six times in a row, so I got lucky, food timing, they were in need of a token Asian guy! (laughter)

So the amazing and funny thing is that when I got the phone call from Paolo Lucchesi about the Rising Star Chef, the following month they called me to let me know I was on Top Chef.  I was like, oh my God, somebody’s looking down on me.  

And through that course of a year it was very rough, I had a friend that was murdered and I had an Uncle pass away.  So it was a rough year. I felt like those were blessings from them.  I’m not suggesting that I’m religious but I am spiritual and I felt like those were blessings that I’m very appreciative of, you know?  Especially with family and friends and people close to you.  Would I rather have the accolades and opportunity or would I rather have them?  I would rather have them in my life.  So that is the thing with these opportunities, more than focusing on the win, but just embracing the opportunity and just representing yourself and your story well.  I feel like that is the most important thing.

Hung Thanh 1895 Fish Sauce.  Tell us about this!

It’s my family’s fish sauce that we’ve been making for over a hundred years. I’m very very proud of it. I feel like---I’m trying not to be biased--but I’ve tasted a lot of product blindly among my peers, my colleagues, my friends and we all agree that my families sauce is best! (laughter)

Where can we buy it?

My sister is working on distribution to the states.  The conversation has begun but to announce a release date would be premature.  I don’t want to be irresponsible.  

Is your cousin running the company?

Yes, he is.  They’ve won tons of awards and accolades!  They currently sell it in Vietnam and Japan. They even sell to some chefs in Japan and they sell to a distributor in Japan where they re-label it as a Japanese product.  And they sell it in France as well too.  A bunch of French Chefs in France love the stuff.  And that’s the thing, if your product is good and the leading culinary nations buy from you, then you’re doing something right.

You’ve got to send me this playlist!

Chef’s Hawker Centre ...

My new baby!

I had to look up Hawker Centre

The term is derived from Singapore and the way I spell Centre everybody gives me shit for it, C-E-N-T-R-E. That’s the British way to spell Centre. It derives from Singapore but it exists all over Asia, specifically countries that exist along the South China Sea. It was a courtyard where everyone would have a kiosk and all walks of life would go there, rich, poor, that’s where you go to get your food.  Period. Frequently visiting Vietnam I found a certain beauty in that.  People were gathering from all different walks of life.  You can have a millionaire or a government official and a peasant kid and they’re all sitting at the same table eating and they are all somewhat interacting.  I wished Westerners would embrace that more.  I feel like in the 2000s leading up to 2018 there is this elitism that we have that we’re not conscious of.  And what it boils down to is if you want better food, better quality, it reflects in the amount you pay.  So what does that suggest for poor people? That means poor people would never be found in those establishments.  That means poor people would be kept far away.  To remind you, I grew up fairly poor.  And that is why I wanted to offer the Chef’s Hawker Centre.  I wanted to offer a middle price point where it wasn’t an elitist thing.  It was people from all walks of life that can join and eat, and share a table.  It’s very Oakland.  Even though it’s very Asian.  I take that across the nation.  Especially with the current political climate.  Everyone is very divided.  Everyone is very angry at each other.  Everybody has their own reasons to be upset and I think most importantly after we get angry the next step is to stop and listen.  Start to understand.  Have compassion for each other.  I think a great way to do that is at the dining table.  

How do you find the different Chefs?

Every city I go to I try to do four seatings.  Two per day. I would cook at at least one of those sittings.  Just so there is a feature.  Partnering with other Chefs, sponsored by Cochan555 and Feastly among other key brands which keeps the price point and the impact on the consumer low.  It’s $99 for nine courses, alcohol included, it’s a great deal.  It’s a very creative, outside of the box model, mainly for me personally to build my consumer base.  It’s a way to market and I think it is cheaper to do that and more efficient to do that because I’m personally connecting with diners, not just through the dinners, but also through social media with a story attached.

Thank you for sitting down to interview with us!

OutVoo is available for download in the App Store.  

[cristinagooge]

15 Reasons We Love Canada - Qualico® Communities

Advantages Of Living In Canada: Newcomers Share Their

Canadians want to know how bad this ...

Canada enjoys it some amusing! Some individuals think Canadians aren't funny, but that's just since we've been so good about our total domination of humour! If we may issue a courteous reminder of our stars: Leslie Nielsen, Stephen Leacock (Groucho Marx was a fan), Seth Rogen, SCTV, Jay Baruchel,,, the Kids in the Hall, Jonathan Goldstein, Lorne Michaels, Russell Peters, Martin Short and not to discuss Drake and his humorous undercover streeters.

Canada is a fantastic nation and it has a lot to provide tourists the most lovely landscapes, tasty food, incredible wildlife, fantastic breweries, distinct Canada cruises and above all, the terrific locals. Do not just take our word for it though as we have actually asked some canucks to tell us what they love about their own nation. Jeff Neinstein.

Unsurprisingly Canada's breath-taking landscapes are likewise enjoyed by locals and Leigh McAdam, who runs the travel blog Walking Bike Travel and is author of Discover Canada: 100 Inspiring Outdoor Adventures, is among them. She says, "I love Canada for its exceptionally diverse landscapes, multiculturalism and friendly individuals (Duncan Embury). As one who appreciates wild and untamed wilderness I feel lucky to reside in a nation that is house to range of mountains, numerous rivers, thousands of lakes, 36 national parks, eight national forest protects, and several hundred provincial parks.

I think Canadians are compassionate ...

I have access to a series of accommodation alternatives from wilderness outdoor camping to backcountry lodges to 5 star hotels. And a fantastic glass of Canadian white wine is never far away. Life is awesome here!" Canada is home to some of the world's greatest untamed lands and its vast hinterlands are fortress for some of the most unbelievable wildlife in the world.

Its rich waters off the coasts of Newfoundland and British Columbia are chock filled with whales and dolphins. Canadians Dave and Deborah, who run the widely known travel blog site The World D, say, "We like Canada since experience can be found in every corner. It is so huge and varied - Sonia Leith. As outdoor enthusiasts we can't get enough of it.

love shows why people choose Canada ...

However it's our wildlife that actually gets the blood pumping. Canada is an amazing safari location where we have strolled with polar bears, canoed through peaceful lakes to spy on moose, kayaked with beluga whales and listened to the cry of the wolf. Canada is amazing." Canadian's love their beer, however they're more than just consumers they are the creators of some mouth-watering beers themselves.

canadians Sure Love Their Bacon, 8 Per Cent Love It More Than

Parallel 49 Brewing Business, a Vancouver-based brewery that produces some extremely popular beers such as the pale ale Unsteady Pop, states, "We enjoy Canada for all the incredible craft breweries in the Pacific Northwest. We like our juicy, hoppy IPAs and prefer to enjoy them outdoors." Whilst Banff National Forest is a terrific location to go to anytime of the year, with Lake Louise and Moraine Lake being just 2 of the top tourist attractions, the national park is a popular destination in winter.

Canadian blog writer Cameron Wears, who in addition to his other half Nicole runs the Taking a trip Canucks blog site, has previously gone to Banff in the height of winter and highly suggests it. He states, "We like winter locations and ski resorts so we believed it would be enjoyable to trade the sand for snow this year.

" Our journey began in Calgary after a short 1 hour flight from Vancouver. We got incredibly lucky with the presence as we passed over the Canadian Rockies, which gave us the opportunity to catch some incredible aerial pictures of the endless rows of glaciers and snow-capped peaks." During winter season you can go snowboarding at the Lake Louise Ski Resort, take pleasure in a pet sled tour through the Kicking Horse Pass at the Continental Divide and play ice hockey on the frozen Lake Louise.

It is going to be incredibly hard to top this one. in Canada. Snowshoeing, snowboarding, pet sledding, ice walking at night, first-class dining experiences, rustic mountain lodge in the heart of the Canadian Rockies, en-suite Jacuzzi, crackling fireplaces, hot springs, no television shall I go on, or is all this gushing making you sick?" Idyllically set between the Pacific Ocean and the Coastal Mountain range, Vancouver is unsurprisingly a popular vacation destination.

Will Woods, founder and chief storyteller for strolling tour operator Forbidden Vancouver, says, "Canada is tremendous bigger than any one person could ever know. However my love for this grand nation is regional. My life and my work are in Vancouver on the patched streets of Gastown, among the big firs of Stanley Park, by the glowing waters of Coal Harbour.

She says, "Vancouver's food truck scene began years earlier, and has actually blossomed into a delicious variety of regional flavours and all at a sensible price. "And the very best part is that our mild winters enable food trucks year-round. Mom's Grilled Cheese Truck (at Howe and Robson), and Tacofino (at Burrard and Dunsmuir) must be a great place to start." The appealing Canadian capital with its Gothic Parliament structures and culinary scene is rupturing with variety.

home - Canadian Jesuits Internationalcanadian Jesuits

He includes, "What I like about Ottawa is the large diversity of alternatives offered to locals and visitors alike. If you are into history and culture, examine out the many national museums and federal monuments. "Are you an art and indie fan? Then numerous galleries and public art screens are discovered throughout the city centre.

Travelling with a family? Ottawa has everything you require for family enjoyable from water parks to hands-on activities for the kids. "Ottawa, in my viewpoint, is Canada's a lot of under-rated city. I started Ottawa Strolling Tours 13 years earlier as a way of revealing visitors just how much the Canadian capital needs to use.

I discover families and senior citizens specifically value Ottawa's laidback technique to life with its numerous walkway cafes, courtyard restaurants, stunning buildings and cultural attractions. Jeff Neinstein. "You have the ability to be treking in the Canadian wilderness in the early morning, gazing at a creative masterpiece in the afternoon and after that consuming at the 4-star bar or restaurant or capturing the symphony, ballet or jazz concert at night (and all for less than it will cost you in the bigger cities).

Ottawa Strolling Tours' Craig MacDonald, states, "Last but not least what I love about Ottawa is its European city feel and yet being so close to the Canadian wilderness we are popular for. Toronto lawyers. Within a 15-minute drive of the downtown core, you can be surrounded by freshwater lakes, hiking tracks, dense forests, white-water rafting, hot air ballooning, or in the winter season pet sledding or skiing either alpine or cross-country.

Craig MacDonald shares some expert information about where you must head to. He says, "As a trip guide for over 20 years I get this question A LOT! "My answer has actually changed in time today I suggest 2 specific establishments: The Buzz on Bank Street and The Manx on Elgin - personal injury lawyers in Toronto.

The Manx has actually developed a strong reputation on serving a great breakfast (try the goat cheese frittata) at a sensible price and is likewise tied at the top of my list." Tracey Pictor, who resides in Toronto and is the author behind the Journal of a City Lady blog, states one of the things she most loves about Toronto are its individuals.

Immigrants Love Canada, Too ' Niagara News

Canadians are unapologetically regretful and measure up to their offered stereotype of being the friendly nation. It is not at all unusual to have a thorough discussion with a total stranger on where you are from and how you are delighting in the current summer weather condition or with a server about how heaven Jays are performing this season." Toronto has actually become a significant style destination with lots of high-end style outlets discovered around every corner and more classic shops turning up.

Tracey Pictor adds, "All the time benefit stores, grocery shops open till midnight, coffee and dessert bars open till all hours, these are the little high-ends I love about huge city living." In case you have not heard, Montreal likes it food. As Canada's foodie capital it is unsurprising that the city boasts an abundance of high-end dining establishments and an enviable selection of regional fruit and vegetables.

He adds, "Whether it's the baguettes at a regional pastry shop, fresh veggies from the Jean-Talon Market, a tasty late night supper at Van Horne or a 2am poutine at La Banquise. Montreal is jam-packed with amazing restaurants, bars and delis. You could spend a whole summer season in Montreal and hardly scratch the surface of the Montreal food scene.

Walking around Old Montreal is an excellent method to check out the city as the historical location is house to some iconic sights. The likes of Place d'Armes, the Basilique Notre-Dame, the Montreal City Center and Saint-Paul Street are simply a few of the terrific tourist attractions you can see. Rose Leto. Corbin Fraser, says, "Between the numerous patios and dining establishments, the fresh air, the open park space, the gentle breezes rolling off the Fleuve Saint-Laurent, or the stable buzz of individuals unwinding and talking, it's easy to see why many fall for this city." Image Credit: GoToVan, The Planet D, Traveling Canucks.

very Canadian love story ...

In a last-ditch effort to convince Canadians that their public health care system ought to be privatized, Canadian Medical Association (CMA) President Robert Ouellet has guaranteed to "pull out all the stops" throughout the association's annual conference next week. Trouble is, Ouellet's objective to lead the modification to privatization is exactly the opposite of what 86 percent of Canadians desire.

" With more than 8 in 10 Canadians supporting public options to make public healthcare more powerful, there is compelling evidence that Canadians throughout all demographics would prefer a public over a for-profit healthcare system," said Nik Nanos, president of Nanos Research study. Nanos Research study was commissioned by the Canadian Health Coalition (CHC), a nonpartisan group that supports Canada's public health system, to conduct a random telephone survey of 1,001 Canadians in between April 25 and May 3.

9 Reasons To Love Canada - Westjet Magazine

Meanwhile, Canada's federal government simply launched a report titled "Healthy Canadians A Federal Report on Equivalent Health Indicators 2008." Its findings nearly identically mirror the CHC polling results. In that report, a leading sign points to the fact that "Most Canadians (85.2 percent) aged 15 years and older reported being 'extremely satisfied' or 'somewhat pleased' with the way overall health care services were offered, the same from 2005." Michael McBane, nationwide planner of the CHC, commented: "Throughout our campaign, Canadians have actually informed us they wish to keep our health care system public and to enhance it with made-in-Canada services.

Canada Heart Flag Gift Pullover Hoodie ...

Ouellet's proposition to provide us with American-style, two-tier medication. This poll definitely highlights that for us. Eighty-six percent is a substantial portion of the population. It stands out that Dr. Ouellet could be so out of touch with the pulse of the majority of Canadians." McBane warned that Ouellet's most current effort to replace public health care with a personal system utilizes language that is misleading.

very Canadian love story ...

Benefits of Living In Canada Sun Life

Ouellet's concepts about activity-based funding, 'competitors' and more private delivery would not yield European-style care, but rather would lead us down the roadway to U.S.-style care." McBane continued: "At the CMA's annual conference later on this month, you will hear Ouellet speak about 'patient centered' care, however he actually implies 'profit-centered' care.

He will also unveil outcomes of a CMA study that he claims shows support for his brand-new privatization scheme. In truth, the language used in the CMA study was so unclear and deceptive that its outcomes can not possible be interpreted as support for more for-profit medication." McBane stated that Ouellet, who owns or handles 5 personal, for-profit diagnostic clinics, has a history of deceptive Canadians.

" Dr. Ouellet requires to stop misguiding Canadians and begin informing them what he's really as much as privatizing our health care system," said McBane - Rose Leto - Toronto lawyers. "His 'transformational change' program is his last kick at the can in the past becoming the CMA's past-president. Dr. Ouellet's privatized, for-profit vision won't fix a single issue of our public health care and more importantly, Canadians do not want it.

from Blogger Neinstein Personal Injury Lawyers

[wecityguidecom]

Mount Nemrut: Kingdom of Commagene

Mount Nemrut has been the subject of the legend since the ancient times, and a today is a place where attracts traveller all around from the world. This mountain is defined as a sacred and holy place by the Kingdom of Commagene where calls the people to join a mysterious adventure to explore the hidden secrets of the region. In this post, you will discover one of the underrated gems of Turkey, Mount Nemrut and its stone head where should be in your list to visit and witness to history. If you are looking for more to read about Turkey, don't forget to check the WeCityGuide | Turkey category.

Get ready to be mesmerized (Source).

What is The Matter of Mount Nemrut?

Nemrut where is a volcanic mountain added to the UNESCO World Heritage List in 1987 as both a natural monument and human-shaped historical monument. Also, this mountain is a part of the Taurus Mountains belt and one of the most dangerous volcanic mountains may be active in future in Turkey. Its height is about 2150 meters and has stunning natural views through the region. Kingdom of Commagene ruled over this region around 1st century BC. They built one of the most magnificent ancient relics here, huge stone sculptures which keep their secret even today. You may watch an old video from the TRT (Turkish Radio and Television) to see Mount Nemrut footage. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jHO2_dqMhgk You can find the trails of the Kingdom of Commagene at the high peaks of Mount Nemrut. The Kingdom of Commagene was founded between the Tigris and Euphrates rivers. This unique kingdom lived under the command of the Assyrians and then Alexander the Great. Around the 2nd century BC, The Kingdom of Commagene gain its independence and kept its existence until the 1st AD. I should write a separate post just for the discover the Kingdom of Commagene but in this post, we will only focus on the Mount Nemrut and its magnificent stone statues. The huge stone heads, sculptures of Mount Nemrut attack thousands of people every year from both within Turkey and all around the world. These statues were placed by the famous king of the Kingdom of Commagene, Antiochus I Theos Dikaios Epiphanes Philorhomaios Philhellen (I. Antiokhos Theos), a very long name :)

Scale Model of the Gods at the Top of Nemrut Mountain at Miniaturk in Istanbul (Source). Discovery of The Statues The statues of the Nemrut discovered in 1881 during a road construction between Adıyaman and Diyarbakır. A German engineer, Karl Sester mentioned this place at first. After the punctuation of the Sester, German Royal Academy sent a team lead by the Otto Punchtein. Later then, Otto Punchtein translates a Greek written inscription and discovered that the region was under the reign of the Kingdom of Commagene. They also discovered the statues were built the King Antiochus I. The 2nd wave of the research and archaeological excavations held between 1953 to 1980 by the researchers from United States of America (Theresa Goell and Friedrich Karl Dörner), Turkey (Osman Hamdi) and Germany (Karl Humann). A significant part of the sculptures and inscriptions are waiting at the Mount Nemrut for its visitors. Also, you may see some of the relics from the region at the different museum around Turkey.

Where is and How to Go to The Mount Nemrut?

Nemrut is very close to the Kayadibi village of Kahta, Adıyaman. Adıyaman is the biggest major city in the region with Malatya. But if you are looking for a place to stay for a couple of days Adıyaman is the best choice because of its location and accessibility from the other parts of Trueyk. Nemrut is around 90 km away from the Adıyaman city centre. If you want to visit the Nemrut, you should go to Adıyaman first. There are a couple of flights from the major cities of Turkey to the Adıyaman. You can check the flights of Turkish Airlines, AnadoluJet and Pegasus Airlines. My suggestion for visiting the Nemrut is renting a car from the airport. Otherwise, you need to take public transport from Adıyaman to Kahta. And then, from Kahta you have to find a person who will take to the Nemrut and then... Never mind, just rent a car :)  

Visiting Nemrut Mountain

Nemrut Mount is also the part of the Nemrut National Park where is under the protection of the Turkish government. Within the Nemrut National Park, there are other places where you can visit and enjoy the nature itself. If you are looking for a place to visit after Mount Nemrut you can visit, Antiochos stimulus, Eskikale, Yenikale, Karakus hill, Cendere Bridge. By the way, entrance fee to the Nemrut Mount and Nemrut National Park is 25 Turkish Liras per person. Let's continue with the thing you need to see during your time in Nemrut. King Clasped with Gods, Antiochus I. To hold its community together and safe, Antiochus I. agreed with the Gods of the Anatolia. As proof of the holy agreement, he made several statues that representing this agreement around the Nemrut. You may the more than one of this king of statues around the Kingdom of Commagene, of course, one in the Nemrut. Pay your respects!

King Clasped with Gods, Nemrut Mount, Adıyaman (Source). Tumulus and Sculptures In total, there are 3 terraces at the Mount Nemrut. If you are looking to visit them all you need to spend at least an hour. Stone statues are at the east and west terraces at Nemrut. And a tumulus at the central terrace. The best-preserved terrace is the east one. Historical records show that there was a temple at the central terrace but today some of the stone head statues are in the exhibition over here. In here you may see the status of Lion, Eagle, Antiochus, Commagene, Zeus, Apollon and Herakles. Also, some of the head put back to its bodies in 2002. After this height of the statues reach up to the 8 to 10 meters. Lion and Eagle These are the protective animal sculptures of the ancient Anatolia. They stood in pair at the beginning and end of the series of other statues and protects them. Unfortunately, only one pair of the four pair survived until today. Eagle, also symbolized the Kingdom of Commagene's sky domination. It is also known as Zeus's tool for delivering his commandments to the people. however, is the symbol of the domination of the Kingdom of Commagene on the mother earth. King Antiochos Antiochos I. built his statues by the gods to gain dignity along with the holy gods. The head of the Antiochos discovers at the 2nd wave of the studies around 1953. The head found under the stone chips during another excavation. Maybe he was not along with the gods whole this time :) Commagene The only and one female god statues along with the other ones. Commagene is the goddess of fertility. Commagene is located between King Antiochos and Zeus. You may notice the grapes and pomegranate motifs at the statues. There are symbolized virility. Also, there is an interesting story about this statue. Until 1963, the statues of Commagene was together with its base. But in the year of 1963, a lighting stroke it and its head fell. A sign from the Zeus, maybe? Zeus The god of the gods, the big boss! Zeus is the highest-ranked god of all the gods. Zeus statue is located at the centre of the line. You may notice that it is bigger than the others. Also, if you take a deep look to its base you can see Zeus has a cape on his shoulder. Apollon The son of Zeus and the symbol of the brightness and mind. Apollon is located just next to the Zeus. On his base, he is holding a branch in his hands. Also, you can see that he is wearing a tunic. Herakles The last statue of the line. Herakles was a mortal and the son of the Alkmene symbolize the human struggle against nature. Herakles is holding a stick on his hand has a beard like Zeus. Tumulus This tumulus is a very big one. It looks like a peak of the mountain but it is the n-made grave of the king. It made by using more than 30.000 cubic meters of crushed stone over the tomb of the king. Mount Nemrut is intentionally chosen for this tomb. Because it is the closest place to the sky. You will understand this when you visit Mount Nemrut. It is not yet clear but the researchers are also thinking that there more than one tomb in here belong to the father of Antiochos, Mithridates and priests. However, the tunnel to the hearth of the tumulus is a long-standing mystery.

Tumulus and stone head statues at the Mount Nemrut (Source).

Nearby Places Where You Can Visit

Before finishing the guide for the Mount Nemrut its magnificent statues it may be helpful to give a bit of information where you can see very close to the Mount Nemrut and Adıyaman. Let's discover the important heritage of the Kingdom of Commagene and the Roman Empire. Arsameia Ruins Arsameia Ruins is 60 km away from the Adıyaman and only 10 minutes of walk from the Nemrut National Park. Based on the inscriptions of the Antiochos I., Arsameis was the summer capital and administrative centre of the Kingdom of Commagene. During your visit please don't forget to see the relief stele of Mitras and the Antiochos-Heraksles statues during a ritual. Also, there is the largest known Greek inscription just in front of it. However, don't forget to go to the tunnel which goes to the 60 meters depth. You can take a look at the location of Arsameia Ruins from this link. Karakus Tumulus Karakuş Tumulus is a monumental tomb belonging to the women of the Commagene Kingdom, which is 8 minutes and 750 meters away from Nemrut Mountain. Due to the eagle sculpture in the column on the tumulus, which is about 20 meters high, the locals called this place the Karakus. There are bull and lion sculptures on the other columns, but only the body part of the bull statue has survived to the present day. In the west of the tumulus, King II of the Commagene King I. Antiochos. Mithridates has a relief that depicts the handshake scene with his sister Laodike. It is understood from the inscription on the column that the monumental tomb belongs to King Antiochos' wife, Isias, daughter Antiochus and grandson Aka. Click for location. You can take a look at the location for Karakus Tumulus from this link. Cendere Bridge (Septumus Severus Bridge) Approximately 10 kilometres after passing Karakuş Tumulus, Cendere Bridge, Roman Bridge or Septimius Severus Bridge, located at the crossroads of Sincik-Kocahisar, was built on the order of the Roman Emperor Septimius Severus (193-211 AD). A magnificent monumental example of ancient Roman architecture, the bridge is 7 meters wide, 30 meters high and 120 meters long. The most interesting architectural feature of the bridge is that it was built without using any mortar. It rises in the form of a ramp on both sides and joins in the middle, adding both durability and aesthetic appearance to the bridge. You can take a look at the location of Cendere Bridge from this link.

Cendere Bridge is a unique example of Roman architecture (Source). I hope that you like the information given in this post about Mount Nemrut and Nemrut National Park. Please share your experiences, thought and suggestions to improve the content and quality of this content. Also, feel free to ask your questions at the comment sections. Read the full article

[ladystylestores]

Amphan: Kolkata devastated as cyclone leaves scores dead

Image copyright Reuters

Image caption Most of those who died were hit by falling trees or debris

The eastern Indian city of Kolkata has been devastated by a powerful cyclone which has killed at least 84 people across India and Bangladesh.

Storm Amphan struck land on Wednesday, lashing coastal areas with ferocious wind and rain. It is now weakening as it moves north into Bhutan.

Thousands of trees were uprooted in the gales, electricity and telephone lines brought down and houses flattened.

Many of Kolkata’s roads are flooded and its 14 million people without power.

The storm is the first super cyclone to form in the Bay of Bengal since 1999. Though its winds had weakened by the time it struck, it was still classified as a very severe cyclone.

Coronavirus restrictions have been hindering emergency and relief efforts. Covid-19 and social-distancing measures made mass evacuations more difficult, with shelters unable to be used to full capacity.

Media playback is unsupported on your device

Media captionCyclone Amphan causes havoc in India and Bangladesh

Amphan began hitting the Sundarbans, a mangrove area around the India-Bangladesh border home to four million people on Wednesday afternoon, before carving north and north-eastwards towards Kolkata, a historic city that was the capital of the British Raj.

Parts of West Bengal and Orissa (Odisha) states in India, and areas in south-west Bangladesh, bore the brunt, with winds gusting up to 185km/h (115mph).

At least 72 people have died in India’s West Bengal state while 12 deaths have been confirmed in Bangladesh.

West Bengal chief minister Mamata Banerjee said the devastation in Kolkata, the state capital, was “a bigger disaster than Covid-19”.

“Area after area has been ruined,” Ms Banerjee was quoted as saying by the Press Trust of India news agency. “I have experienced a war-like situation today.”

Three districts in West Bengal – South and North 24 Parganas and East Midnapore – were very badly hit. In Bangladesh, the worst-affected district was Satkhira, where large areas have been flooded as embankments collapsed in several places.

Initial assessments of the damage are being hampered by blocked roads and flooding in all these areas.

BBC Bengali’s Amitabha Bhattasali in Kolkata says much of the city and its neighbouring districts have been without electricity for a day. Mobile phone networks are not working in some of the worst-hit areas.

Dramatic images shared on social media showed electricity transformers exploding in busy neighbourhoods as the storm swept the city.

“Thank God, we are safe,” said a resident, who shared footage of tiled roofs being peeled off by the force of the wind and blown away.

Image copyright EPA

Image caption Wind gusting up to 185km/h (115mph) bent palm trees on the Orissa coast

Local news networks showed uprooted traffic lights in flooded streets, as well as broken river jetties and vehicles crushed under fallen trees.

“Trees uprooted, power supply snapped, lamp posts unhinged, glass panes in the locality shattered, internet connections flickered. Children screamed,” resident Shamik Bag told the BBC.

“Even with all doors and windows tightly shut, my house groaned under the pressure of the howling wind outside. Within 45 minutes, the streets outside got flooded, even as flood waters rushed into the ground floor of homes.

“When the power lines were restored after the storm, neighbourhood children, much like our own childhood when power-cuts were rampant, burst out in a spontaneous, cheerful chorus.”

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Media captionCyclone Amphan batters India and Bangladesh

Kajal Basu, who lives on the 12th floor of a high-rise building in the city, wrote on Facebook after the storm began: “It is like the vault of hell outside.”

The building seemed to be “swaying from side to side, mimicking an earthquake”, he said. “Sounds of tortured metal, glass breaking. Palm trees uprooted. Power lines came crackling and spitting at three places nearby.”

Kolkata’s waterlogged roads “looked like a dark and slithering reptile on Wednesday night as howling winds continued to haunt the city’s deserted, Amphan-ravaged corridors”, the Telegraph newspaper reported.

Image copyright Reuters

Image caption Parts of Kolkata airport are submerged after the storm

Most people were at home when the storm struck. Kolkata and the rest of India is in lockdown because of the coronavirus pandemic.

Officials in Bangladesh fear Amphan will be the most powerful storm since Cyclone Sidr which killed about 3,500 people in 2007. Most died as a result of sea water surging in.

India’s weather department had predicted storm surges as high as 10-16 feet (3-5 metres). The rising of sea levels in this way can send deadly walls of water barrelling far inland, devastating communities.

Meteorologists have also warned of flooding and deadly mudslides.

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[vaedar]

Headcanons: Valyrian Architecture

This will be a general description of my headcanon of the architecture, appearance and layout for the city of Valyria, capital of the Valyrian Freehold and that of Draconys ( the valyrian city of canonly unknown location ), where Vaedar was born. It is important to remember that the details and descriptions given here apply only to interactions in this blog for RP purposes and references, they are not official nor canon unless stated otherwise. Also important to remark that some of the descriptions may not fit the laws of reality because this is fantasy and GRRM himself has stated so when people try to give logical, realistic and scientific explanations to how the ASOIAF world works.

Under cut because this is a long post, containing images for reference.

Appearance before the Doom

|| To be applied to all verses taking place before and during 114 B.C. ||

To begin, I’d have to first add a general description of the Valyrian peninsula’s geography. This map shows how the peninsula might’ve looked like before it was shattered by the Doom as well as the Fourteen Flames ( a chain of fourteen active volcanoes ), and I’ve added the locations I’ve assigned to known valyrian cities without canon locations. The terrain in the peninsula was mainly mountainous, with peaks rising several thousands of feet closer to the center of the land mass. Cliffs, both high and low also dominated the landscape and the coasts were more often long drops rather than beaches, which were more common to the south region of the peninsula ( more on the geography in another headcanon post ).

This means that the valyrians needed to adapt their constructions of cities to these disheveled terrains, as well as successfully connect them together through the many mountains and hills. It’s also important to mention that due to the high volcanic activity, lava would flow to lower ground in what could be called ‘rivers of lava’, but the valyrians built canals in order to control the path and flow through the cities ( those that did reach the cities, at least ). To cross these canals, long and tall bridges were made out of stone, capable of withstanding the constant scolding heat without eventually collapsing or loosing their form ( a feat achieved through spells, the same that allowed for the city to thrive so near to volcanic heat and lava–more on that on another hc post ). These same type of bridges were used to connect the cities in the peninsula though in a wider and far longer range, which would eventually be known as the Dragon Roads, spanning outside of the valyrian peninsula throughout the rest of the colonies and cities in Essos.

|| Notice that I’ll be using the illustration on the left ( from AWOIAF ) as the main reference from which to base the other images ||

As for the capital of the Freehold itself, tall ( or as referred to mostly, topless ) towers filled the city; many were built sitting on ground elevations, while others on valleys and lower, flatter areas. It’s there in the main towers and palaces where the noble families gathered. The tallest towers that rose from their respective palaces were the homes ( or one of the homes, in the case of Vaedar’s and some others’ family ) of dragonlords and their families. The highest level of these would be a cavernous space with wide openings, from which strong stone arms with various shapes extended, as well as platforms, so that dragons could perch themselves on them. The principal larger and wider bridges that served as the streets however ( the ones closest to the ground ), were almost always on the same height regardless, with the smaller and shorter ones above to connect different levels of the towers and other places.

The exterior appearance of these towers, palaces and bridges were often decorated with ornate patterns, sphinxes, and statues of all sorts of creatures, mainly dragons or similar. The stone used was of a darker color but it could vary between black, grey, pale and dark reds, and sand colors. They were often coated in obsidian and/or other ores mined from the Fourteen Flames, including gold and silver. The details of these decorations, such as the eyes of dragons for example, would be jewels like garnet and rubies and other gemstones. The unparalleled detail and skill with which these edifications and architectural works were made are possible thanks to dragonfire, and the use of magical spells that allowed the valyrians to manipulate the materials in whichever way or shape they wanted ( in a seamless manner as the stone was not cut or chiseled ).

However, as beautiful as the architecture was, it was also practical. The focus was to bring more comfort and commodities for the valyrians ( mainly their residences ), such as precious water from the nearby rivers in the peninsula. It was also meant to be durable and resistant to the exterior heat exposure so that the interiors were not as hot as the outside. The decorations inside the palaces and towers were sometimes just as useful, for example, the candles of obsidian glass; which had the ability to be used as a means of swift communication to far off places. Statues and columns were very common in the interiors as well, along with the ornate patterns and forms made of different precious materials like silver and gold, as well as valyrian steel. The size of the main palaces and towers were also quite wide for it was meant to accommodate a large number of people when court was held, and if necessary, it was large enough for a mature dragon to fit inside ( think the size of Drogon in the show ).

Undoubtedly, the capital city of Valyria was the most grand of all the valyrian cities but the same general modality and style of architecture was carried out to others in the peninsula, including the southern city of Draconys, where Vaedar was born. 

There, the palace sat on a hill overlooking The Summer Sea, with several towers rising higher, harboring some of the chambers with wide open balconies and extensions for their dragons. Though the purpose of the height behind these towers was so that only dragonriders would access them upon their mounts, there are bridges and long stairs that do allow others to reach the higher floors from the lower levels of the palaces. The Valarys residence in particular ( as a dragonlord family ), had its own interior gardens and pools, and rather wide and spacious courtyards where around three or four young dragons could land and expand their wings freely. Though other residences for noble freeholders were bigger than the more humble houses of lowly free citizens, the trend was for those belonging to dragonlord families to be more ample, higher, isolated and overall greater. It could be taken as a statement of the higher positions they have in the Freehold.

Appearance after the Doom

|| To be applied to all verses taking place after 114 B.C., and based on the Path of the Last Embers storyline || UPDATE: May only partially apply to the verse ‘From the Ashes’.

After the Doom of Valyria ( a cataclysmic event where all Fourteen Flames massively erupted and brought chaos and destruction upon the peninsula ), the land itself was shattered into islands and countless smaller isles, while other parts of the land completely disappeared, swallowed by the sea ( mostly those closest to the coast, rivers and the Fourteen Flames ). The chain of volcanoes did decrease in number but there are still those who remain above on ground and active. Although the doom destroyed the cities in the peninsula, there were buildings and other edifications that did survive virtually unharmed and within, the few survivors ( including powerful sorcerers ) found a way to protect what remained of the capital both from outside threats and nature itself. The passing of time however, did eventually claim the rest of the uninhabited remains of the once great civilization, even the part of the capital that was protected and adapted for the survivors to live though slower ( without any proper maintenance and rehabilitation ).

In the verses based on the Path of the Last Embers, Vaedar is pretty much a reincarnated descendant of these survivors, being born four centuries after the Doom took place. It's on that ruined remain of Valyria that the images I'm using are referencing to. Due to the earthquakes that shook the land during the doom ( and still do though at a less violent scale ), many of the once tall and topless towers' higher levels collapsed, and very few remained still with their original height. Nature claimed a great part of the palaces, temples and towers with trees and bushes growing, and vines and roots extending and surrounding the structures. For the most part, those places still inhabited by the valyrians though, are kept rather clean and away from the grasp of nature. Since the knowledge of how to work stone and other materials is not lost to the peoples here ( as it was to the rest of the world ), they are able of at least keeping the structures strong and stable enough to continue withstanding the passing of time.

Another way in which they keep the edifications is by venturing as far away as they can from the protected remnant of the city, to seek out whatever materials and other useful treasures that survived the Doom, so they can incorporate them and add into the buildings ( Vaedar is one of them ).

This is all for the general descriptions of the headcanon for now. Please do keep in mind that they have the purpose of serving as references and can be modified accordingly to the interactions. The images used are all found on my board of Valyria over at Pinterest, the artists and/or sources are there.

[lewigm-blog]

Newsletter 2: To be (consoled) or not to be (consoled) that is the question…

San Pedro de Apostal Iglesia, Andahuaylillas, Peru. Yes, I celebrate mass here regularly, it is aesthetic to say the least Published January 21, 2019

“Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?” (Matthew 6:25-34)

*Full reading can be found here

 Folks,

I am writing to you all after being on “retreat” in Peru’s capital, Lima! I put retreat in quotes because I had to go through the grueling and time-consuming process of becoming a Peruvian resident, but the rest of my time here will be to explore the wonders of the bustling city of Lima. I thought that I would have a bit more time to write while I was still in Andahuaylillas, but with the New Year and all its celebrations, this comes to you late. With that in mind, I will focus on the last part of my in-country orientation in Anda. These next few weeks are part of the what my second-year community mates call the end of “The Honeymoon Phase.”

Since arriving, I have had several introductions (and re-introductions) with those involved in Fe y Alegria 44, the school I will be working in, those from La Parroquia, or the local parish, and several of the residents in Andahuaylillas. I feel that I am following closely my original intention of walking and doing as they do here in Peru, which includes trying Chicha Morada, a fermented corn drink, dancing and singing along with to the Cholitos song at a wedding, and participating in the consumption of Cuy, or Guinea Pig. From what I’ve already seen (and eaten), I believe that Anda will have a place for me with what it has already shown me!

To highlight some of those potential places or roles, I have found an opportunity to join the church band who call themselves “The Rony’s” to enhance improve on my guitar skills and learn how Andean liturgy is structured. There is also a unique role in which a Spanish person is coming in to coordinate and develop an Ignatian Sports program in which physical (and spiritual) exercises are united and inculcated through the medium of sports, namely fútbol. I have also recently had a 4-hour evaluation meeting with a Jesuit coworker which gave me a quick overview of the school year and an idea for things to come. It seems that many of the values learned from my time with the Jesuit Center, Campus Ministry retreat teams and on the Fell Charter school board will be essential and alive here! With my role still being defined, I really feel that I am able to make this time and experience my own, feeding those hungers and talents mentioned in the last newsletter.

           While there have been a number of moments of consolation, there have also been moments of desolation during this transition. When I speak of consolation and desolation, I use the definitions offered by Dean Brackley’s Discernment in Troubled Times. Consolation refers to the peace and joy that arises from our center and affects our interior state as a whole. It isn’t just about the temporary “good feelings” that can comfort us, but rather a long-lasting feeling that can release new energies, widen our vision, and direct us beyond ourselves. The opposite is true of desolation, which is much more negative and destructive, ultimately draining us of energy and hope.

This was a theme presented on our transitions retreat in the region of La May in the Sacred Valley just a few hours away from Cusco. It might seem early to start writing about consolation and desolation, but I felt that this should serve as a rather key theme in the time since last writing to you all. It is something I had thought about previously, but no amount of pre-country counsel or preparation can account for everything in-country. One of the readings from our transitions retreat was from Matthew 6: 25-34, which is about our concern and worry for things that God will provide. After having a few weeks of in-country observation, I know that my “needs” with respect to life and the four pillars of JVC (Spirituality, Social Justice, Simple Living and Community) will be challenged and redefined, but that is part of the process of learning to trust more in God. The three main experiences that I will share regarding consolation and desolation are titled capitalism abroad, community defined, and developing boundaries. I believe that with these three themes, I can best give an idea of a few of the personal struggles, success and hopes I have during the rest of my time here in Peru!

 Capitalism Abroad: Among the things that was brought from the States were habits of materialism and capitalism. At odds with the core JVC pillar of simple living, materialism continues to be a constant temptation in my life. This was true especially leading up to my departure as I made several purchases of outdoor wear, teacher’s materials and self-care items. I tried to be as intentional as possible in organizing myself, but those financial habits didn’t completely go away as smoothly as I had expected. With our humble monthly stipend of only 60 US dollars, those temptations to splurge on meals, luxury items and experiences would be tested.

           For context, it is important to mention that currently a single US dollar is equivalent to about 3.37 soles (Peruvian Currency). Initially, I was consistent in my frugal approach for the entirety of December as I had only spent a single sol on six freshly baked loaves of bread. Then we decided to make a trip to Cusco on the 24th of December, where thousands of people were walking throughout the Plaza for the annual Christmas market. I brought with me only 40 soles and told myself that I would only walk around at first to get a sense of the area. If, and only IF, I was blown away by a good would I consider the purchase. This was challenged as our group walked past scores of llama wool sweatshirts, handcrafted Inca-Spanish themed chess sets, chocolate sweets and much more. (Pictured in the google photos album)

           Present around me was a beautiful chaos of hundreds of vendors in the plaza, as both formal and informal stands auctioned off panoplies of goods and services. There were hordes of people maneuvering at different paces and directions being caught in a zombie-like trance by the color of textiles, the smells of burning incense and the shouts of street vendors grabbing one’s attention with their invitations talking to you as a close friend might. There is a rush or excitement of being on the hunt for something that you didn’t know you wanted at the mall or online especially during the holiday season. It is really amazing the ways in which we rationalize a potential purchase by telling ourselves that our friend or family member would LOVE an item. “Of course, they would appreciate this gift” you tell yourself, while perhaps subconsciously thinking about how you would appreciate a gift from someone SO thoughtful and SO caring. Well, I certainly had these thoughts surface, realizing how quickly one can get caught up in this way of thinking.

While searching for a good deal is what shopping and markets are about, there is a challenge in trying to be mindful of the work and livelihood of the people selling their merchandise. I noticed the interesting reality of the vendors on foot who sell products and services such as fruit drinks, selfie sticks or massages or tours. I am sure that people have come ALL the way to Cusco without having coordinated with a local tour agency and conveniently was seeking the exact service the foot vendors provided. I wondered to myself “Who would ever buy that, and even if they did, how much would these vendors need to sell to really make a profit? How can this be done effectively if there is another street vendor selling the same item a few feet away?” This sharply contrasted the experience of more established vendors had protected stands who were comfortable losing a sale to me because they know that in a few minutes someone else will come along.

Behind and off to the side were the vendors who were from different campamentos or rural outskirts of town. One of these areas had for sale various Nacimientos or Nativity scenes fashioned out of natural elements. Some were better than others, but generally they were not all interesting enough to attract a great deal of people. In this area were families who had brought their young children in in dilapidated clothing, who were eating with rotting teeth as their mothers struggled to make a sale. There was a look of despair and. at times. indifference in the faces of these mothers. It was almost as if coming to Cusco was a waste of time and they wondered how everything would turn out.

This stirred in me a frustration because whatever the education and economic systems that were in place did not allow for these groups of people to live comfortably. How is it that there is so much corruption over years of there being a “democratic” system in place? It was disheartening to think about especially seeing the number of children in this section and reading and seeing news outlets report on widespread corruption throughout Peru. The involvement of bigger established companies such as PeruHop, Uber and other chains absolutely crush these small vendors selling their products as well, but I think I should save more of my social justice rant for the next newsletter.

Overall, this theme of capitalism abroad came up several times during Christmas time, but what gave me some hope and consolation was that with all this tourism created an increased demand for people to work in hoteleria or the service profession. At the parish in Andahuaylillas, there is a program specifically training young people who do not attend university that teaches them specific trades. The people in these programs are genuinely proud of the services that they provide. It tells me that slowly people are bettering their own lives. This change is slow, but steady and I can’t wait to see just how some of these folks end up.

Overall this is the challenge that I have in living simply in another country. I suppose I could stay disheartened by the current state of affairs, but I think I realized that I need to rethink the way I understand this problem. While things are very challenging for some families, there are good things that are coming out of it. There seems to be an overwhelmingly sense of community, support and comaraderie amongst the people here. I remember sitting and watching the fiesta of the 77th year anniversary of Andahuaylillas and seeing the Peruvian tradition of sharing in a large Inca Cola soda or Cusqueña beer. One would open a bottle and then with two or three cups each take turns passing and sharing in the drink. It is an interesting way in which everyone shares in a single cup of drink and allows for everyone to have a bit of a sweet drink. Before anyone is passed a cup, the bottle opener pours out a little bit of drink onto the floor so that way Pachamama, or mother earth, has a bit to drink before anyone else. This sense of gratitude for what the earth has provided is expressed constantly and might give us all something to think about.

 Establishing Boundaries

“When his parents saw him, they were astonished, and his mother said to him, “Son, why have you done this to us? Your father and I have been looking for you with great anxiety.” And he said to them, “Why were you looking for me? Did you not know that I must be in my Father’s house?” But they did not understand what he said to them. He went down with them and came to Nazareth, and was obedient to them;” Luke 2: 41-52

This is the December 30th reading from Luke 2: 41-52. I believe that this account is about a young Jesus and His temporary disappearance from Mary and Joseph. A relevant reading for this time because I realized that I did just leave my home and, perhaps like Jesus, had failed to discuss a few things with my parents, namely boundaries. In-country I have had to detach more from some of the comforts of friends and family, but I haven’t forgotten them. While I am learning from many great teachers here, I still have some duties to my parents at home. This proved to be especially challenging with the Christmas season.

           The holidays can be a challenge for families as they tended to travel together to meet under one roof in close quarters for an extended period of time. I am sure you may be able to relate on some level, but my family seemed to be particularly dramatic during the holidays, especially after my departure. While I don’t have frequent internet access, I am aware that I need to stay in touch make efforts to converse with them when I can. I made my rounds via phone calls and WhatsApp on Christmas Eve and resented it a bit afterwards. My time “catching up” was essentially equivalent to slowly downloading and watching half a season of a Spanish Telenovela and there was nothing that I could really do about it except listen. It became a chore as I would randomly stop listening and it became a game of “Uh huh, yeah, Oh really, Hmm.” Bill Burr does an excellent stand up bit with this in You People Are All the Same when he realizes he has droned out his wife for too long and she changes the pitch of her voice. He realizes that she changed it because she had asked him question, so he goes with a neutral “Eh well, what are you gonna do? It is what it is.” And just like that he makes it through! (Starts at minute 24:00 but the link starts where you can contextualize the joke.)

Is this what I have become? An empty shell just deflecting every so often with someone I was talking to? I was hoping to be energized by my family during this time, but all I felt was desolation and frustration. How could they not be more understanding of my position here in Peru? They expected the same amount of attention, and in some cases more! Although I was frustrated, I understood where it was all coming from. I had left an integral role within my immediate family and it was a space that wasn’t going to be filled easily. Although I struggled with the idea initially of what life for my family would be like without me, I went back to the quote mentioned in our transitions retreat (Matthew 6:25-34).

           I realized with this passage that life would go on without me, I just need to have more faith that all will work out for the best. I came back from the Parish WIFI (as we don’t have internet access at home) into community a bit stressed out. What brought me back into consolation was the comfort that I wasn’t the only one going through a similar longing to be with family. In fact, I had 5 other people in my JV Community going through the same thing. This, along with baking Christmas cookies and creating our own stockings helped me during this challenging time. Christmas Day we were invited by a past volunteer, Sam Hayes, and his Andahuaylayan wife, Lily, for a Christmas lunch. Everything was wonderfully prepared at their home and we got to understand and hear about a past JV’s experience. The power even went out, which for some might be an inconvenience, but served as a blessing because I was able to disconnect from all else and simply be with my community.

           I realized how strange it can be to have one foot in Peru, while having another back in the States. I think that I am growing more comfortable with the idea of my family without me, because life does go on and because at one point or another I won’t be available for them and that is okay. I think that I just really need to create a space for myself in which I can recover and let my family know what that means to me. I realized that by not letting them know, I am not only hurting them by growing resentful, but I am also taking away from who I can be for community as well. Truly this is a worthwhile cause, but a difficult one as well.

 Community Defined (Part 1)

One of the areas in which I felt that I would be challenged most greatly as a Jesuit volunteer was community. There are many reasons for this, but quite frankly one of my greatest fears was being paired up with a community mate that came here for what I deem “the wrong reasons.” I have had several previous experiences and group projects in which I had someone in my cohort that was completely disinterested in the work or task at hand, or at least that’s how it was perceived. Some of you may very well know which (international) experiences I am referring to, but I digress. Even still, I was aware of the possibility that my community may not be what I expect or that we might not get along perfectly at first and this is experience was no exception.

           The way that I wanted to approach the community aspect of my JV experience was that it would be a sort of an arranged marriage for two years. What I believe to be one of the most important elements in any marriage is that love is at its core and all parties need to constantly revisit how this is expressed and defined within the arrangement. I think I knew this to be the case from the moment I met my incoming JV community mate. We weren’t part of the same crowd or had many common interests, but I was okay with that. What mattered was that we were here to serve others and grow together in our new community.

Initially it was a challenge, but I am now beginning to see how our differences can form many of strengths. By having two different approaches and mindset towards what the life of a Jesuit volunteer in Peru is like, we can share those gifts with each other and future volunteers to come. While I personally wouldn’t focus on the “things to do in Anda” or household amenities such as hot showers or access to internet, these are things that my community mate could help ease and clarify for incoming volunteers that are more on the fence about this experience. This sounded wonderful in theory, but to truly surrender to that was a much harder process to trust. I struggled with these concerns mostly because I have been preparing myself for this experience for two years, and I know that my level of attachment (or detachment) from these things is notably different from most. I would learn this much more greatly in Lima, but I will save those details for later.

During this “Honeymoon Phase” of our time in Peru, there were three moments in which I began to understand the gifts of community. The first moment involves a Christmas retreat, the second a despedida, or going-away party, for a second year Jesuit Volunteer. The final moment involves a Jesuit from the Midwest providence who helped foster a very impromptu house flash mob.

           *Said in Spanish “…What is it about ourselves, or what we think we see in others, that makes it so difficult to find Jesus in others?” This is the question that stuck with me from our mini-retreat in Urcos at the Saint Peter Claver parish. Our in-country coordinator, Father Gonzalo, gave us an excellent retreat that revolved around the idea of trying to figure out who Jesus was for us and the personal challenge in seeing Him in others. I can’t exactly recall if it was Father Gonzalo or Father James Martin who said it, but I can only strongly remember thinking to myself during this time “We are all called to be disciples of Christ, but we don’t get to choose who those Disciples are.” What a moving statement! This, for me, summarizes why community can be so challenging.

           The temptation to judge others quickly can ensnare and prevent any possibility of one being surprised by others. After having only been in Peru for two weeks, I had already boxed in and defined what these JVC values and others meant to me. I did not allow any room for change and that was a very isolating and draining feeling. I struggled much during this time because I had an expectation that we would all be in what I call a baseline standard or agreement as to how we might begin to live out our values as a community. I still struggle letting that thought go and surrendering because I was under the impression that with a two-year commitment, we would have considered these values seriously. Truthfully, I didn’t allow myself to move into what we can ALL consider community because I wanted community to be done my way. In retrospect, I see that I wanted to immediately have conversations as to what OUR new community would be, and I longed for something that wasn’t the main focus during my orientation in country. I had to simply be open to seeing Jesus in others rather than magnifying the areas where our more human and errored ways are apparent. It is much more of a challenge to see people as Jesus would as I continue to learn. It takes time and moments that are out of our comfort zone to realize this.

           I suppose it is hard to see Jesus in others if you literally haven’t had enough time to get to know Him. Such was the case with the departure of our second-year community mate, Karla. Karla’s Despedida was quite a challenging time for us as incoming volunteers because we couldn’t empathize with others in the community because we haven’t had time to form a close bond. I had shared a few conversations with Karla during La Misa the first Monday here, a Chocolatada in Urubamba, and a late-night post-spirituality chat.

           What gave us some more clarity and understanding of Karla and community generally was Karla’s despedida. It was a night of celebration for all the work done, relationships built, and provided us 1st year volunteers understand what an impact one can have in a short two years. There were a great deal of community members present from all over Quispicanchi and it made the spacious auditorium seem incapable of hosting so many. So much dancing, laughing and reminiscing was shared and it was topped off with a special mariachi band serenade! It was in the dancing that I began to see the gifts of my community mate. She had an energy that added to the joy already present in the room. I knew that I certainly wasn’t the main impetus for getting people out of their chairs! It gave us both something to look forward to and I think it was necessary early on to see community in this way.

Taylor Fulkerson, SJ was another character who helped bring this out an amazing aura of understanding, compassion and levity to our community that was much needed. I approached the early part of our experience a bit more serious that I would have liked, and Taylor reminded me of the power of joy, laughter and silliness. While we had shared a few intentional reflection spaces and discussions while in the Sacred Valley, we also learned to enjoy ourselves as we rewatched the classic John Tucker Must Die movie; and how we cried with laughter as we improvised an argumentative dinner scene complete with Jersey accents between a fictitious Mikey Scheroli and his sister, whose overtly Italian name escapes me now.

It is moments such as these that truly brings out and shapes community and it is a hard thing to describe. Perhaps the best moment that brought us all together occurred on December 18th with Brittany and Lulu’s (our new second year volunteers) one-year anniversary dessert celebration. We were concluding our time with Taylor with a final dinner together. I remember that we had a delicious dinner and our second-year volunteers, Ghipsel and Karla, had surprised Lulu and Brittany with a Chai cake. For some reason or another we decided to start playing dance songs over the speaker and what happened next was a beautiful blend of theatrical dance and instrumentals.

The fluorescent lighting in our house seemed to be holding us back, so we turned off the lights for the cake candles. Something in me wanted for us to see each other a bit more so I quickly ran upstairs to grab a few more candles and flashlights and passed them out. We used them to create a personal light show as each of our sources of light shined differently, I guess you could say literally and figuratively. A few members of our community began clinging silverware and plates, while others sing along to a variety of pop culture classics such as N-Syncs Bye, Bye, Bye and Chris Brown’s Forever. In this moment, we each put into this moment our own accent to OUR community and something that we will all remember. (See videos in Google Photos Album)

This reminded me of another similar time during my orientation when our Internatioal group “performed” and did Karaoke to Abba’s Dancing Queen. I don’t know how we were signed up to go first, but it left us with all of 10 minutes to rehearse. We all came together, and we presented for all of the JVC staff and domestic volunteers an amazing show. The video is also in the Google Photos Album if you would like to see it. Yes, it might seem ridiculous to outsiders looking in, but this was what made our community what it is; a beautiful, diverse cohort of individuals looking to serve others and be served, while having fun. It has helped me be much more open to moments of consolation rather than desolation.

Fin

           Thank you for making it through those 13 or so pages. I appreciate your interest and hope that we can keep and stay in touch every so often through this medium! Any, and I mean any, comments questions or critiques are greatly appreciated. I have been trying to stay on top of things while they are moving but at times, life moves too quickly for me to be able to write about it. The next newsletter will hopefully be done within the next two weeks. I have been writing, editing, and revisiting both newsletters at the same time so keeping within my “set” timeline is difficult.

I DO have a request from you all, however. After writing about my time of much needed levity and joy with Taylor, I would like for you to share with me an anecdote(s) or a moment(s) these past few weeks that made you take life a little bit less seriously. I think that it would be a great exercise in reflecting on these moments, but also so that I can hear some more about your lives as well!

Peace,

Luis

On the left: Andahuaylillas, Peru; On the right: An exhausted Luis Melgar sitting on top of Coriorco Mountain after a 5-hour hike (Elevation: 4,300 meters/14,000 ft.)

San Pedro de Apostal Iglesia, Andahuaylillas, Peru. Yes, I celebrate mass here regularly, it is aesthetic to say the least

Note to self: Don’t share any remotely suggestive photos of you holding other people’s hands that aren’t Cat’s to Kayla and especially not Aly.

Readings, links and Google Photos Link

Matthew 6:25-34 here

Luke 2: 41-52

Bill Burr Clip (Link to video Starts at 23:09 for context and minute 24:00 for the quote. I suggest watching the special)

Google Photos link: https://photos.app.goo.gl/HvHRqVjV7soEPkfe9

[secretagentspydetectiveninja]

The Misadventures of Prince Kim - chapter 36

This one was already ready but I told myself to stop procrastinating on other stuff before posting it... and then ignored myself and decided to post it anyway because if there is one person who is a bigger fool than Kim, it is me. Anyway, here be lots of Kimax :D

And also on AO3, as always

Marinette and Adrien took almost a week to travel all the way back to Cheng, having to take the carriage since the trains were still not running, as always. Ever since Agreste had started taking over territory deep into Asia, all the rail lines had “mysteriously” been stopped with no sign of starting up again, even for royalty. It was no secret that the empire was using them to transport mined goods back to their capital and preventing anyone else from sharing.

“Marinette, it’s so good to see you!” Queen Sabine exclaimed when they arrived, rushing forwards hug her daughter. Formal royal customs and protocol were rarely followed in Marinette’s tight-knit family. “I’m so glad you made it here safely.”

“What do you mean?” Marinette asked.

“Nothing in particular,” King Tom said, joining the hug. “It’s just that the state of the world has been a bit… tense, lately. Like anything could go wrong at any point. But don’t worry – you’ll always be safe here at home!”

“Where’s Kim?” Sabine asked, looking at the carriage, frowning. “And who’s this?”

“This is, um, Felix,” Marinette said, grabbing Adrien’s hand and pulling him over. “He’s a noble, a refugee fleeing from the Agreste Empire when they took his homeland. I said he could stay here with us for the holidays.”

“It is nice to meet you, Felix,” Sabine said. “You can always feel free to come here whenever you need to. Our kingdoms do not support the Agreste Empire at all.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Adrien said, bowing. “It is an honour to be here.”

“And where is Kim?” Tom asked. “I thought he would be staying here with us too. The more guests, the merrier!”

“He went to stay with Max,” Marinette said, trying not to smile too much. She could guess perfectly well why Kim had wanted to stay with Max so much. She had been suspecting it right since she saw how much Kim missed Max during the summer holidays, and her suspicions were practically confirmed when Kim had quickly dashed into her room to let her know he wouldn’t need to stay in Cheng this time. His eyes had practically been glowing.

“Oh, well that’s nice for him!” Tom continued. “It’s good to explore and make friends with leaders from all over the world. Having allies will be very important for him.”

Friends… allies… neither of those quite captured it. Marinette tried not to grin again.

“Speaking of which,” Sabine said, “his grandmother, the Queen-Regent of Lê Chiến, has been corresponding with us again and has a proposition, though of course we won’t decide on anything without your input. You and Kim are close in age and good friends, and our countries would certainly be stronger with a formal alliance between them – especially considering everything that’s going on with Agreste right now. So what do you say to a betrothal?”

“W-what?” Marinette could feel the blood rushing away from her face.

“You don’t have to decide straightaway! It’s just an option.”

“Me? Betrothed to Kim?” She shook her head. “He’s… he’s great and all, but… but…”

“Remember, marriages between royals are usually for necessity and politics, not love. At least Kim is someone you get along with. If you agree to this now, you won’t have to worry that later you’ll end up engaged to someone much worse.”

Marinette gulped. How to explain to her parents that she was already in love with Adrien, the heir to the throne of the empire that was her sworn enemy? How to explain that Kim was clearly already interested in someone else?

“And didn’t you used to have a crush on Kim?” Tom asked, winking at her.

“What? That was like 10 years ago!” She blushed just remembering it. Alright, she had once had a bit of a soft spot for Kim when they were little kids. But she was long over that! Kim was more like a brother to her these days.

“Well just have a think about it, alright? We won’t force you into anything, we promise. We just want safety and stability for our countries, and happiness for our wonderful daughter and her good friend. It would be a good match.”

“I’m in love with Felix!” Marinette blurted out, gripping Adrien’s hand tightly in her own. “Felix and I, we’re… we’re a couple.”

Her parents blinked, silent for a few seconds, taken aback. They recovered quickly.

“In that case we will have to tell Kim’s grandmother that you will be rejecting the proposal,” Sabine said, smiling. “It would be quite unfair for you to have to marry someone else when you’re already together with someone who would be a perfectly appropriate match.”

“I’m so happy for you two!” Tom said, giving them both a clap on the back. “Say, Felix, where did you say you were from again?”

“An area near the 1st region,” Adrien mumbled. Marinette could feel his hand shaking and sweating. Well, he wasn’t exactly lying – his home palace really was near the 1st region.

“And what title are you? We need to know how to formally address you.”

“Um… Duke of the Alpine,” he replied. That wasn’t entirely a lie either – one of Adrien’s many titles included Duke of the Alpine. Thank goodness Cheng was so far away that it would be hard for her parents to verify his claim. She really did not like having to lie to them, but it was necessary for Adrien’s safety. No one could know he was here.

“Wonderful! Well, Duke Felix, we look forward to getting to know you. Come on inside and we’ll show you around!”

“Thank you,” Adrien mumbled, moving to follow them.

Marinette breathed a sigh of relief. At least Adrien was safe for now. How long was he going to have to stay undercover for? There was no end in sight to the tyranny of the Agreste Empire, nor its enmity with Lê Chiến. What would happen if war broke out? What if Adrien was discovered, and forced to return home? Nothing boded well. Marinette had no idea how her relationship with him was going to survive.

But at least he was okay for the time being. That was the most important thing.

Meanwhile, over on another part of the planet, Kim had already spent a week with Max in Kanté. Things were quite similar to how they had been last year, and yet… something was different, too. Kim couldn��t help wondering if somehow the sun was shining more brightly, or perhaps the air was fresher, or maybe everything had been cleaned thoroughly enough to sparkle.

“Kim, slow down!” Max called, half-laughing, as Kim pulled him along by the hand. “We’ve got plenty of time!”

“But it’s more fun to run!”

Within a few more seconds they had reached where they were running to – the top of the large grassy dome overlooking the capital city. It was one of the places Max had taken him while sightseeing last year. Kim remembered how magical it had felt here last time, seeing the bustling metropolis beneath them, almost too futuristic to believe, with aeroplanes zooming through the sky above them…

And yes, there it was again! This time it looked so magical it felt like being in a dream, or in some other world entirely. There were maglev train tracks stretching off into the desert, colourful skyscrapers for miles around, thousands and thousands of cars driving along the immaculate roads! Everything was amazing!

Kim pulled out of his pocket a little camera he had bought from a tourist shop earlier. He lifted it up to take a picture of the view…

Hmm, something was missing. It wasn’t possible to get the scope of the city without something in the foreground to contrast it.

“Max, can you just stand there for a second?” Kim asked, pointing at the very top of the hill.

“You want to take a picture of me?”

“Yeah! This picture would look awesome with you in it!”

Max went and stood on the very top of the summit. “How’s this?”

“That’s perfect!” Kim had to stop himself from saying “You’re perfect”. He looked through the lens and took the photo. This was going to look amazing!

“Thanks!” Max said, coming back over to him. “I can’t wait to see what these look like when we get the film developed.”

“Me too!” Kim put the camera back in his pocket. “Hey, do you think I could cartwheel all the way down this hill? How many cartwheels would it take?”

Max frowned. “My guess is about 8, but I would also guess that broken wrists or ankles would be a likely outcome, so I would advise against it.”

That was so sweet! Max was concerned for his wellbeing! Wait, of course he was – he was Kim’s best friend. Duh. Kim knew he needed to stop taking every little interaction as romantic in nature. He was too sappy and lovesick for his own good.

“You’re right,” he said. “Anyway Max, today was another awesome day, so uh… thanks for showing me around again. I hope you’re not getting tired.”

“Don’t worry, I’m definitely not! It’s not every day I get to show my favourite city in the world to one of my best friends in the world.”

The way Max was standing there beaming at him, in front of the beautiful landscape, the wind ruffling his hair...

“Kim? Are you alright?”

“I’m fine!” Kim said quickly. “Fine. Just, uh, tired. Maybe we should go back to the palace now and get some rest. After all, we’ve got that yuletide diplomatic ball thing to attend tomorrow, right?”

Max’s kingdom was hosting this year’s Peace Ball that took place every December, with leaders from every country in the International Alliance attending. It was probably going to be posh and formal and boring, but at least Max would be there too. Hopefully it wouldn’t be too bad.

“Yes, we need to prepare for that,” Max said, nodding. “In fact, I’ve got a surprise in store for you about that.”

“Ooh, really? What?”

“You’ll see very soon!”

He chuckled and began walking back down the hill, towards where the guards were waiting. Kim just took his hand again and ran, pulling him down behind him. He could hear Max laughing away so happily. It was so cute!

They arrived back at the palace soon enough, and Kim went back to his room to rest. He lay on the bed and stared up at the ceiling fan above him, the blades spinning so fast they merged into a blur. Almost like his own heartbeat. He couldn’t get this stupid grin off his face. One thought kept running through his mind:

Thank goodness for Max.

He was serious. Not just because he was in love with him, but in general. Thank goodness Max was around. Everything recently had been going so wrong – the flu pandemic, the looming war between Agreste and Lê Chiến, his grandfather’s suspicious death, the fact that he was going to soon be responsible for an entire country, just everything being so confusing he could barely sort out his own emotions or even tell up from down.

But here, with Max by his side, were a few weeks of respite. It was like being in a blissful bubble of peace and happiness. Being able to spend time with Max, no school to get in the way, just forgetting about all his worries for a little while. This was exactly what he needed in his life right now. It was almost no wonder he had fallen in love with Max – how could he resist someone who was just this perfect for him?

That being said, he still wasn’t sure whether or not Max loved him back like that. Of course Max cared about him, that much was certain. But romantically? That was another matter.

When should he tell him? This sort of thing should not be rushed, that had already caused him enough trouble in the past. Asking out Chloé on a whim had been a disaster, kissing Adrien at the winter party in first year had made things awkward between them, and running away immediately after confessing to Alix had caused him a lot more stress than he needed. This time he needed to think it through properly.

What about the Cupid Festival? A day like that would be perfect for confessing his true feelings! And anyway, Max was his best friend. Even if he didn’t love Kim back like that, he wouldn’t be weirded out or anything. Things would still go well. Yes, the Cupid Festival seemed like a good day to do it. He had made up his mind.

Until then, though…

He covered his face with his hands, knowing he was blushing, not entirely caring. Spending time with Max was so much fun! It always had been, but something was just so different now. And Kim had had plenty of crushes before, too many to count, and he had been so head over heels for people he didn’t think he would be able to get over it, and yet…

This still felt different somehow. Never before had he fallen in love so slowly, so gently. Usually he just met someone cute for the first time and that was it, he would be smitten. But not this time. The fact that he loved Max now just seemed like an extension of their close friendship. That they had grown closer and closer over the years, and at some point Kim’s feelings for him slipped from platonic to romantic without him even realizing. He was sure that hadn’t happened with anyone else before.

With Chloé, he’d just talked to her a little at her birthday banquet, feeling so flustered at how pretty and powerful she was, and then decided to ask her out when he saw her again at school. There had been nothing slow about it. With Adrien, he hadn’t realized what he was feeling at the time was a crush, since he didn’t know that was possible, but he definitely had strong feelings for him right from the beginning. It only hit him at the winter party. And as for Alix, well… Kim could easily pinpoint the moment he realized he liked her. But his crush on her had always felt very separate from their friendship, almost like it was oddly superficial despite how strong it did indeed get.

But Max! Kim thought back over the past few months, trying to recall everything. He had missed Max’s company so much over the summer holidays, more than he had expected to… he had been so grateful to see Max go into quarantine just for him… he felt so oddly happy waking up every day and knowing Max was there with him… and he won arm wrestles just by hearing Max laugh… cuddled with him after the earthquake… cried into his arms after receiving that letter from home… not wanted to put him down after the spider incident–

There was a knock on the door. Kim sat up, wondering if that was Max. It must be – who else could it be? No one else here really bothered talking to him.

His brain felt strangely reckless all of a sudden. In the spring holidays, when he had answered the door without a shirt on, Max had run away with a nosebleed, right? What if he did it again? Just to see if Max still liked him, or was he over him now? Wait, was that even a good idea? Oh – who cared!

He pulled his shirt off and scrunched it up in his hand, really not thinking about it properly, then ran towards the door and opened it to see–

ALIX?!

What was she doing here?!

She took one look up at him and burst into laughter. “Kim, what the… did you think I was Max or something, were you like… trying to impress him or what…?!” She wiped a few tears out of her eyes, she was laughing so much. Even her snake looked like it was laughing somehow.

“Don’t tell him,” Kim muttered, grumpily putting his shirt back on. Why did the shirt thing never freaking work, darn it?!

“Don’t worry, I won’t,” she said, still grinning rather annoyingly. “But I don’t think you need to worry about impressing Max like that, he already knows perfectly well how shredded you are. You know, because of the spring holidays? When you did this exact same thing except you were trying to impress me instead? Which wouldn’t have worked because–”

“So what are you doing here?” Kim asked quickly. He didn’t want to think about the spring holidays.

“Setting you up with Max, of course. And also I have to attend the Peace Ball since I’m a pharaoh and my kingdom practically founded the International Alliance, so yeah. At least it won’t be so boring this year with you two here. Posh events like these can be very romantic, I’ve seen it with my own two eyes. So you and Max have to get together.”

“I was thinking maybe the Cupid Festival might be better…”

“What, really? That overrated festival day where people use it as an excuse to be all mushy in public and act like romance is the only kind of love there is, or all that matters? No thanks, I am far too aromantic for that – which reminds me of another reason I’m here. I have to get that science journal off Max. Don’t ask. Oh, and one more reason – to give you this.”

She handed him a little box-like thing with an electric screen and buttons on it.

“Is this a phone?” he asked. It looked a bit like one, but the ones he had usually seen had wires connecting them to the electricity lines. The only portable ones he had seen were Max’s phone and Alix’s sceptre-phone-thing, whatever it was.

“Yep, it’s a phone, and it’s yours now. Special gift from my kingdom.”

What? An expensive portable phone… just for him?

“You really didn’t have to,” he mumbled, trying to ignore the fact that his eyes were suddenly watering.

“Oh shush, you have to keep it. Anyway, you can use it to properly keep in touch with your family once they’ve fixed the telecommunication lines, without having to send letters! And also this phone has an update with the very latest technology, where you can send people messages by typing them in using the buttons. Kind of like sending a letter, except instantaneous. Look.”

She grabbed it off him and selected the little letter icon from the menu, then showed him the two phone numbers already stored in his phone – hers and Max’s. All you had to do was type in any message, then select who to send it to, then press enter and – voila! It was simple.

“That’s actually really cool,” he said, taking the phone back. “Seriously, thank you so much!”

“Hey, it’s no problem. You deserve some good things to happen to you now. Your year has been pretty sucky so far.”

Without even needing to think, he bent down and hugged her. “Thanks for being the coolest best friend ever. And your year hasn’t exactly been the greatest so far either, with all the like… timeline nonsense and stuff, so…”

“Oh man, don’t even bring up those stupid timelines,” she said.

“Why, what happened now?”

“You don’t wanna know. Like trust me, you really, really, do not wanna know.”

“Are you sure?” He grinned. “What, is it too ‘embarrassing’ to tell me about again?”

She whacked his arm with her sceptre. “It’s embarrassing for you too, you dolt. Anyway, I’ve got a science journal to be reading, so I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah, bye.”

She left, and Kim closed the door. He looked down at his new phone. This thing… could it really be used to send messages to people thousands of miles away? All the way on the other side of the earth? And she had just given it to him like it was no big deal?

Those telecommunication lines had to be fixed soon. And he had to talk to his family properly.

[forresthom-blog]

12/02/19 Experiencing the New World: Crossing the Atlantic and Reading Old Scribblings

The past few days have been riddled with firsts: my first time flying alone, my first time in America, and my first time calling up and working with archival resources. Compared to my previous entries that have had an informative, historical angle, this post contains primarily my own musings about everything that has happened to me since I started my adventure at 3am last Friday. From an empty plane to crowding around the signatures of the Founding Fathers, and from being given free bread for being British to learning how to cross the road again - check out the first (and incredibly long) installment of The Making of the Angels in Blue right here!

Flying over the Atlantic. The ocean looked majestic and placid from so high. In the time of the Civil War, it took around two weeks to cross by boat. News reports also had to cross with the boats (there had been a functioning transatlantic telegraph cable in 1858 that shortened communication times to minutes, but it broke after just three weeks).

My journey from Birmingham to Bethesda, Maryland (a suburb of Washington, DC) took just under twenty-one hours. Only my final leg of my trip from Bethesda’s Metro station to my accommodation was made using a mode of transport available in the 1860s (foot!).

Economy class was almost empty! So, I spread out across three seats. My long haul plane flight was not long enough; I was actually disappointed to get off my flight and stop watching films, listening to music, playing solitaire, staring out the window, getting waited on by cabin crew, and getting twice as many drinks as if the flight was full. I can only hope that the flight will be just as empty on my overnight trip home...

Twenty-two years of observing the United States of America from afar - whether it be through TV, film, the news, sports, music, and so on - has resulted in me constructing a highly detailed, and doubtless prejudiced, perspective of what the self-professed ‘Land of the Free’ is like. Consequently, a lot of my initial reactions to the country are seen through this prejudiced lens. Nevertheless, the airport was huge, the border security was sharp, and the roads were several lanes wide. So far, my impression of America was as expected! Then, on the Metro, I had friendly chats with three strangers (from memory, this has never happened in my years of using the Tube). To top it all, on the night of my arrival, I went to Trader Joe’s for bread and milk and a very attentive shop assistant noticed I was struggling to find what I was looking for. When she discovered that I had just arrived that afternoon, I was given free parbaked bread rolls to welcome me to the United States. America and Americans certainly did not disappoint me!

Paying a visit to President Trump’s humble abode - perhaps I could post him a letter asking him nicely to not close any of my archives while I am researching for my dissertation...

My first full day was spent sightseeing around the centre of Washington, DC. Around every corner was hidden a new monument, building, or yet another star spangled banner. French-American military engineer Pierre Charles L’Enfant (1754-1825) drew up the plans for the capital city of the USA. It was designed to be a grand metropolis full of neo-classical architecture and monuments to great Americans. The National Mall from the the Lincoln Memorial to the Capitol Building is a staggering three kilometres in length. It was exciting to see in person all the views I had seen hundreds of times in photos and videos.

One view was particularly striking. As I was walking towards the Lincoln Memorial alongside the Reflecting Pool (which is much bigger than it looks), I turned to look back at the Washington Monument. L’Enfant’s plan for the National Mall was highly uniform with all the monuments aligned and symmetrical. By the side of the Reflecting Pool, I was slightly off centre and as such I caught a glimpse of the great neo-classical dome of the Capitol peering out from behind the Washington Monument which - due to L-Enfant’s exact design - had hidden the seat of Congress. Out loud I said, “bl$#dy h*ll”! 

Here is the view of Congress that made me audibly swear. Admittedly, a phone camera and my limited photography skills do not pay justice to how breathtaking the view really was. The bright white of its dome and its sheer size (at 87.8m it is less than 10m shorter than Big Ben) was what impressed me most. A further result of the impressive architectural planning of the city, when I cross Pennsylvania Avenue to get to the National Archives, there is a stunning view of the Capitol Buidling perfectly framed by the buidlings either side of the road leading up to it. Unfortunately, due to crossing a busy main road each time, I have not managed to snap this view...

Escaping the cold, I then took a couple of quick trips around the Smithsonian’s Natural History Museum and National Gallery (in case a certain peculiarly orange gentleman with hair that blows away in the wind decided to close them again at the end of the week). Perhaps the most exciting thing for me at the National Gallery was a collection of three John Constable paintings. Constable lived and worked along the Essex-Suffolk border in the country that now bears his name: Constable Country. I grew up close to where Constable lived and worked; it was great to see his work exhibited so prominently so far from England and to see a little piece of Constable Country residing across the pond.

To finish my day, I went to the public side of the National Archives to see the originals of the Declaration of Independence and Constitution. I was inches from the signatures of all the Founding Fathers: most notably George Washington, Benjamin Franklin, James Madison and the world famous Broadway star Alexander Hamilton...

The most challenging thing that has faced me so far in the city has been crossing the roads. The roads here are massive and so are the cars. The crossings all look different and some are zebra crossings as we know them in Britain and some look like them but are most certainly not. Cars give way to pedestrians on ‘crosswalks’, but it feels wrong when you are just casually walking across the road in downtown Washington, DC and all the cars are just letting you go. The worst part, however, is waiting to cross not knowing whether you are allowed to ‘jaywalk’ when there are no cars but the crossing is still at ‘wait’, or if the police will spring out from nowhere and reprimand me. Anyway, I am sure I will learn.

On Sunday, I chilled out and recovered from my exhaustive day of endless walking, exploring, and road crossing (!) from the day before. Until the afternoon when I was itching to continue discovering new things. I had heard from some of my housemates that there were spare bikes in the garage. They had also talked to me about the Capital Crescent Trail and how good it was for running and cycling. So, it would have just been plain rude to not have taken a bike ride down the trail!

Getting out of Bethesda and cycling the Capital Crescent Trail was a welcome break from the city. It was now nature’s turn to astound me. What was most impressive was the magnitude of the open space I witnessed on my ride. Despite the vast majority of my journey being within the District of Columbia, the wide expansiveness of North America was tangible nonetheless.

The trail follows an disused railway line of the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad that mainly served to deliver goods to Georgetown in the Northwest of the District of Columbia. It also runs alongside the Chesapeake and Ohio Canal and the Potomac River.

Even though I was only a couple of miles from the centre of Washington and was within the District of Columbia itself, the air was clear and I was surrounded by trees, nature and many local residents running, cycling and strolling down the path.

Another breathtaking glimpse of an iconic monument that Ben’s photography pays no justice. This time, it was the turn of the Washington Monument appearing in the distance across the fast-flowing and very wide Potomac River. I learned the day before that when it was completed, the Washington Monument was the tallest building in the world (555ft [169m]). However, at 150ft (46m) up, the quarry used for the stone changes. There is a clear line where the colour changes. I am sure that if you are building the world’s tallest building, you can at least keep the colour of its stone consistent. Now I have seen the colour change, I cannot unsee it. 

How very off-putting. L’Enfant was not alive when the structure he planned was completed in 1848, but I am sure he was still seething about that ridiculous colour change.

Yet, the weekend soon came to an end and it was time to get cracking on what I traveled over three and a half thousand miles to do: visiting archives!

Against my initial plans, my work this week was primarily at the National Archives and Records Administration. It was closed as part of the longest government shutdown in history throughout the end of December and January. The threat is that the funding, which runs out on Friday, will not be renewed and the archives will be forced to close again.

The National Archives building keeps up Washington’s neo-classical theme with its impressive columns. Flanking the research entrance, are two plinths with quotes engraved. The lefthand quote is above: WHAT IS PAST IS PROLOGUE. A meaningful quote alluding to an idea that all of history has led up to this moment and that by researching history we can discover how we got here. This notion is slightly teleological (the concept that history has a direction and an overall goal), but it is interesting and thought-provoking nonetheless. In comparison, the righthand quote reads: STUDY THE PAST. Which seems rather dull and uninspired. Almost as if someone asked a bored historian what they get up to, ‘I study the past. I am a historian’.

It was exciting to be going to a real archives, looking at real documents, for real research and I almost felt like a real historian and not the amateur imposter that I really am! In all seriousness, it was daunting filling out request forms for the documents I wanted. It was also a privilege to be working in the National Archives where the general public do not get to visit. It was an even greater privilege to be able to read through the letter books of the Civil War.

The greatest difficulty I found was reading the nineteenth-century handwriting. Once tuned in, it was less challenging. 

Inside a snazzy lift that is a pretty good match for my top. By my second day at the National Archives, I felt at home moving between the reading room, consultation room and the canteen for lunchtime and was beginning to recognise security guards and archive assistants began to learn my name. ‘A trolley for Forrest!’: being the call when a large set of letters sent to the Surgeon General arrived. Although it was exciting hearing my name called, the trolley of letters meant I had a lot of hunting to do for my small handful of indexed letters I was searching for.

All in all, this is a very long but potted summary of my first five days traveling to, around and working in the United States. I have enjoyed immersing myself in the friendly, go-getter culture of America and it has been amazing experiencing so many things that I have seen for years on screen (hearing and seeing fire engines with firemen leaning on the window while they roar down the street is a highlight, alongside the grand buildings and monuments of DC). Well done if you stuck with my longest post so far all the way to the end!

My plans for the coming days are to finish up my work at the National Archives and look to begin my most important work at the Library of Congress by the end of the week. I also plan to visit the National Portrait Gallery - which is right outside the Metro station I take to the National Archives. On Saturday, I plan to go to Fletcher’s Cove Parkrun which is on the Capital Crescent Trail.

Upcoming blog posts include an amusing story of an Amulance Corps Captain and his stuggle to acquire paint and hopefully my experiences of being a ‘Fresh Fish’ Civil War recruit when I take part in a reenactment with the 3rd US reenactors on Saturday the 23rd of February.