#boat deck drain cover

[mahameruputra14]

Deck Drain Cast Iron

Deck Drain Cast Iron – Deck Drain Jembatan – Deck Drain Jalan di Indonesia.  Sebagai penulis yang tinggal di Surabaya, kota yang terkenal dengan curah hujan tinggi, saya sering melihat genangan air di jalan dan jembatan. Genangan air ini tidak hanya mengganggu lalu lintas, tetapi juga dapat merusak infrastruktur dan membahayakan keselamatan pengguna jalan. Untungnya, ada solusi untuk mengatasi…

[costelloschoice]

Hello!! I absolutely adore your first! I was wondering if you could do a siren mizu x pirate reader?? Idk it's js been on my mind lately idk why 😭 you ofc don't have to if it's too much! Thank you and keep up the amazing work!! 😊💖

-Firstly, thank you <3. And two, I love this idea! thank you for requesting <3

Those Eyes

-Siren! Mizu x Pirate! fem! Reader

-warnings: strangers x lovers, seduction, some inspo from the Odyssey, yes I know sirens are incapable of falling in love but this is my fantasy so shhhh...

You’re not sure how long you’ve been on the water, but it’s taking a drain on you.

You weren’t captain, but you weren’t the lowest on the deck. You weren’t the one that mops but not the one that leads. Being one of the only women was the hardest part. The constant teasing, the insults…It took a mental toll on you. You were lucky that the captain even let you stay in his cabin to protect from the other men at night. The captain never tried anything with you knowing he had a wife waiting for him.

That’s why when the captain stated the boat was passing through dangerous siren territories, you were their guinea pig.The captain order everyone to put beeswax in their ears, knowing it would protect them from the luscious sing from the women of the sea.

You on the other hand, were to be tied up to the mast of the ship. Your were going to hear the legendary siren’s call. Maybe it was a plot to get you off the boat, you couldn’t care. You had nothing waiting for you at home or any luck with treasure hunting and looting. The crew wasn’t exactly the best and yet you put your whole life into this. Maybe it was for the best..?

Leaving your family behind for treasure put a large dent in your relationship with them…But you promised to bring them back treasure you can help them with financially. Knowing that you failed almost made you want to die to the sirens.

You heard from legends around that these women were beautiful mermaid like creatures that have the face, voice, and body to lure men in to snatch them for dinner. You also heard of sirens with a beautiful women’s head but the body off a large hawk. But from both stories, their voice were sure to drag you in. Yet one questioned remained among the men. Since you were a women, would it even work in you? Many have doubt but some travelers believe the infectious song will make anyone delusional enough to come join the women in the waters.

And there was no way to get out of this. You were tied tightly to the mast, surely to have brush burn and bruising after this. You arms tired behind your back, ankles together, and finally your whole body tied to the mast. Your heart picked up when they put in their beeswax, knowing you can’t call for help.

As you tried to calm your breathing, you heard something in the distance…A song? A beautiful song with an even more beautiful voice…

The captain seemed to notice the fog slowly approaching. He hurried and ordered the hundreds of men to try and paddle the ship fast. Your heart was beating out of your chest, trying to take deep breathes.

Then that voice. That voice that pierced right through your heart....

You looked to see a woman with the legs of a fish sitting on a rock. Her piercing, almost glowing blue eyes stared at the ship. She was trying to catch her prey, though she was only one woman she could easily take them down. Her long black hair covered her breast, tailing slowly moving side to side as she sang. Suddenly you felt something take over you, take over your mind and emotions. Your body was betraying you, you felt yourself starting to thrash against your restraints, trying to get yourself free.

The captain noticed you thrashing trying to get yourself free. He foolishly tried yelling for the men to paddle faster. They couldn't hear him but can see the frantic look on his face. When they look at you, seeing your body get free from your wrist and ankle restraints. As they try and paddle faster, her voice got louder.

Her voice was pounding in your ears, hurting but soothing at the same time. The siren's voice was calling to you pulling you in. The struggle soon stopped then you managed to free yourself from the mast. The men watched in shocked as you tried to jump over the boat. The captain ran to you, grabbing the back of your shirt and holding you close.

You cried out when the men tried to stop you, "Let me go! Please Let me go! Please!" You cried, trying to fight off the 5 men that tried to hold you down.

Her voice grew louder, giving you an adrenaline rush. The rush gave you strength you the strength to fight back, pushing the men off. You leaped off the ledge, soon embraced by the cold rush of water. Even in the water, the song didn't stop. This is what she wanted...

Coming up from the water you swam to her, swimming closer to her rock. You panted like dog as you swam to her, coming closer to the siren. Her arms reached to you, seeming like she wanted to hold you. You smiled as she lifted you continuing to sing as she stares into your eyes. Her beautiful blue eyes drew you in as her song did, blocking out the yelling from the men from the ship.

You felt her come closer to you, to kiss you. Closing your eyes, you waited for the embrace...but were soon welcomed by cold water again. You were being dragged through the water, being pulled around by the deadly siren. You opened your eyes to see the siren's bright blue ones staring back at you...She was now going to eat you, just like the legends say...This is how you're dying.

Now it's time to accept your fate, fate of a foolish woman.

You waited for death, but it never came. You opened your eyes to see a damp, wet, and dark cave...Then the siren looks down at you, "You're lucky enough to live..." she said in a deep and smooth voice. They voice of them women was better then any treasure you could dig up.

“Y-Yeah…Why am i alive?” you asked too weak to sit up. She placed your head on her lap, your hair against her scaly tail. She stroked your hair, making you smile. This had to be a dream. A beautiful siren was here stroking your hair? “Why haven’t you killed me?”

She simply shrugged, “You’re different. I never seen a beautiful woman like you. I spotted you a few night ago when your hair was throwing a…party of some sort. You looked so lonely as those men discarded you like it was nothing…I felt bad for you..”

“Know selfish men like that, i knew they would set you up as soon as you went into siren territory. I told the other girls to give me some privacy to lure you in..” *she said, smiling at you. While you didn’t even know but be scared she had been stalking you and your crew….or to be flattered she should you beautiful. “I want you here…with me…forever. I want to just,..turn you into a siren forever..” she said, clearly optimistic from just a few minutes of knowing me.

But, could this work? Your family has probably already forgot about you…Your crew could care less to go back to you…Maybe you’ll like it here with her…You smiled up at her,

“I’d like that a lot..”

[cvlutos]

TWISTED WONDERLAND: MOULIN ROUGE

WARNINGS: Dark Content | Sexual Themes | Implied Prostetution | Violence | Yandere | Etc. | Proceed with Caution Dearest. | Inspired By Lovely @elenamegan14, who I absolutely adore.

═ PROLOGUE ═

DEAREST ARISTOTLE FAMILY,

Hello Aristotle Family, I have received word that your father, James Aristotle, has passed, truly a sad day and I give you time to grieve. Yet time is money and I fear that a certain family, your family to be exact, is still quite indebted to me. I do send my condolences. Though fear not, it is not much I desire from you, dear Aristotle family.

I ask for your eldest child to be sent to NRC and aid me. You needn’t know why, but they will indeed be safe. All that the eldest needs to bring are whatever they desire. Shelter and all other needs will be provided. Within this envelope contains a special boating ticket and I do hope you do not lose this. I expect the eldest child to arrive before the end of fall.

I’ll Be Waiting,

DIRE CROWLEY

Pulling the fabric of your thick coat closer to your form, your luggage trapped between your legs as your sit on the deck of the large ship. It’s crowded, all eager to board off the boat and onto what one would consider paradise island. It’s dark and unseeable. Yet the anticipation is tastable, like fresh oranges, and you can already taste the citrus without having to bite it. We all sit in the dark, for the inside of the boat is only for the rich, nobles, and royalty. Not poor underdressed commoners. With little to their name. We are forced to be outside like dogs. The sun set hours ago, and the moon missing as if stolen from the sky. The only thing illuminating the path is the ship lights at shine onto the fog-covered ink of the ocean.

Consider yourself lucky.

A letter was sent from none other than Dire Crowley, owner of NRC. Night Raven Club or Night Raven Coterie. It rests heavy within the inside of your coat, as do the thoughts of worry and fear in what you have to do for Dire Crowley. NRC is a notoriously dangerous, yet lavish place, having been around for generations. It’s also known for draining the very pockets of men and women alike, leaving those same men and women begging for scraps along the island, begging to be able to get back into the club, like drug addicts going through withdrawals. Until the next boat arrives to take them home. Though most go kicking and screaming, dragged onto the ship. Yet the boat itself is unpredictable and unreliable. Once you’re on the island, you can’t get off, at least not easily.

People have gambled away all they have and all they are. Truly a dangerous place.

Consider yourself one in a million.

Crowley had sent you a special invitation, promising a beautiful bedroom for your stay, for as long as you carried out whatever he needed to be done. Though, this letter wasn’t for you directly, but for your family. Due to your father, a man who so desperately sold off almost everything to NRC, leaving his wife and children in ruins, and went crawling to Crowley for it all back. Your father believes Dire Crowley to be a kind man. A very kind, gracious man, that understands and is oh so forgiving. So Dire Crowley did what your father asked, gave back all that your father foolishly lost. Though not without something in exchange. Your family would forever be indebted to the man named Dire Crowley, and would do all he needed to be done when he asked. A deal could last generations if Dire Crowley so wished.

Your father has passed. Escaped the consequences of his actions, so you, as the eldest, must do what your father can’t.

Night Raven Coterie.

The Club of Twisted Imagination.

It’s a name everyone knows. A name that you either despise or worship. Like a whiskey that burns your throat when you drink it, so painful, but so good. It’s a name that lulls you into eternal sleep. That burns your skin worse than that of the bluest flames. That poisons you and kills you. That leaves you stranded in the desert with nothing but the clothes on your back. That drags you into the deepest parts of the ocean or lures you into the hungry den of lions. Or a heavy collar that restricts who you are.

With its great seven-standing beauties and the poor souls trapped within its confines. Unable to escape. Unable to ever be free.

══════ ♡ ══════

Heartslabyul.

Strictness.

Order. Order. Order. Rules. Rules. Rules. Nothing more. Nothing less. This club room is almost as twisted as the island. With 810 rules, written and posted on the walls before you enter the room that rests beyond the crimson-red door. Tables and chairs were all placed orderly, with red painted roses in the center. It’s almost like a never-ending tea party. All were directed towards a stage of checkered patterns of red and white, with heavy velvet curtains hiding the stage. Til the exact moment, exactly with the clock, do the curtains open.

The Queen’s Arrival.

Riddle Rosehearts, The Red Rose Tyrant.

Short in stature but large in presence. A boyish, arrogant look as he entertains and dances across the stage before strutting down the catwalk and onto a smaller circular stage. Closer to you. Closer to the rich and desperate people. Begging to be hit by his leather riding crop, begging for him to look down on them with a sneer. He’s alluring, sweeter than the sweetest tart, and scolding like freshly brewed tea. He’s merciless. Unforgiving. Bad-Tempered. Selfish. Spoiled. A sadist that ties sinful men and women to their chairs and punishes them. He’s cruel and all things within that room, behind that door, the door in the color of blood-painted roses, must be orderly.

══════ ♡ ══════

SavannaClaw.

Perseverance.

Wild and Free. Bathing in the coolness of the Savanna freshwater springs. It’s loud and in constant motion. It’s rowdy and not for that of fate of heart. A more hands-on experience, with colors of browns and yellows. With floral from the savanna decorating the hot and steaming room, it’s the perfect place for fights. For arguments. With no tables or chairs, most men and women find themselves staring up at the stage, bodies close and compact. Like an herd a suspecting prey. Until a sudden roar sends everyone into a frenzy.

The Roar of a King.

Leona Kingscholar, The King of Beasts.

With a cocky smirk and emerald eyes, he stalks onto the stage. Displaying nothing but power. Nothing but strength. Barely dressed with anything, yet leaves you begging for more. Pleading for the lion beastman to drag you onto stage and ravish you. He dances feverishly and leaves you stubbing out the door, or passing out amongst a wall, drenched in sweat. He’s confident, so cocky in his position as Prince. Ordering you to follow and listen, and you do. He’s the bad boy, a predator to prey. The lion hiding within the tall grass. There are no rules in the savanna. There are no rules. Once you open the burnt yellow-colored door, any and all could happen. Only pray that you survive.

══════ ♡ ══════

Octavinelle.

Benevolence.

Deep and cool within the darkest depths of the ocean. Of smooth jazz and a nightclub atmosphere. Soft lighting and candles. Many call this the Mostro Lounge, though the clubroom has its special performances. Most times, it has an average audience. A break from the other rooms of NRC’s the Great Seven, a place of twisted relaxation that comes with a price. Soft cushioned seats, all well dressed, well behaved, till the siren sound begins and comes the beauty of the depth.

The Emergence of the Sea Witch.

Azul Ashengrotto, The Deep-Sea Merchant.

Seduction at its finest. An alluring smile and charming voice, as if had eight arms that pulled you onto the stage. His moves hypnotizing as he gracefully moves across, like a fish in water. Simple, soft, seductive. Drowning in the embellishments of his voice, till you, his chosen one makes it onto stage and he dances around you. Constricts you in the tentacles in this voice, luring you into false, calm waters before the climax. A loud symphony of instruments and heat. Like the arrival of a new storm. The only thing that can save lies within a golden contract, one in which you only have to sign your name. All this lies within the deep, lies behind the lilac purple door.

══════ ♡ ══════

Scarabia.

Mindfulness.

Energetic. A party all day, every day. A truly freeing place that makes you want to do nothing but dance and jive. But to dance and spin around several unique dance partners. Or sing and listen to the various instruments, from the thrumming of drums to the strings of guitars. The smell of the sun and the taste of spice, the sound of jewelry being thrown and forgotten, till you dance and find yourself naked. Your clothing and all your money gone from you. Til none other than the diamond in the rough appears.

Like the sound of sand in an hourglass,

Kalim Al-Asim, The Cave of Wonder’s Diamond

All that is left behind disappears into the sand of the fourth room. As the sway of energetic hands and hips brings you into a hypnotizing stare, as he moves across the room, with a smile on his face. He has an innocent aura, but aside from the overly friendly touches, he doesn’t seem all that innocent. He gives you all you desire; all that you want and beg for. You’ll forgive him for all that’s stolen. With desperate hands and desperate voices, begging him to do this and to dance this way, he obeys. Like a mouse, ready to be swallowed by the snake. Greed to appease you all. All awaits you within the land of sands, behind the door of orange.

══════ ♡ ══════

Pomefiore

Tenacity.

The room of pure perfection and poison. Of dark violets and bold red. With nothing, the smell of intoxicating perfume and caramel apples that were to die for. Everything within this room is beautiful. So perfect. With little room for sitting, but all the room for an enormous stage and a special performance for those who could afford it. Not just anyone can waltz into the room of beauty, it’s come with a deadly cost, and the beauty will get what is owed.

A Poisonous smoke that chokes you.

Vil Schoenheit, The Fairest Queen.

Slow. Seductive. Like aphrodisiacs had been pumped straight into your veins as he sings. It’s hot, as have you squirm in your seat, gasping for air, for relief at any movement he makes. Any roll of his hips, the dragging of his hands, the deepness of his voice. Yet you feel tied to your sit, unable to move as he poisons your very blood. Mirrors placed all across the room, showing you your own patheticness as you watch him dance. As you lean into his tempting touch only for him to pull away and the intoxicating show to end and you must leave the room behind the door of dark purple and deep red.

══════ ♡ ══════

Ignihyde.

Diligence.

A room of technology. Yet never the main show. Don’t expect much when arriving, for the main show never seems to appear. It’s a dead room most nights, with only a few there to sit and relax in silence. Now don’t be mistaken. An audience waits on his beck and call, waiting souls for the moment he announces he desires to perform. On the nights he does, it’s packed, people upon people, pushing and shoving to get a glimpse of him.

The Cries of the Dead.

Idia Shroud, The King of the Underworld

Like cries and mourning of the King of the Dead, begging for just a small feeling of his leather boots, just to slightly touch. As he degrades his audience for being so desperate for him. Deep and brooding, hot and heavy. It’s loud and last hours before it dies down and he once again retreats. Spending most of his time entertaining his fans with calls and private appearances. Truly a costly performance. One that you will pay with your life behind the door of blue.

══════ ♡ ══════

Lastly, Diasomnia.

Nobility.

Truly a hard room to find. Only those that are deemed worthy can find the door of green and watch what happens beyond. With candles of green flames and music that feed on you, leave you drowsy. Slumping in seats, allowing whomever to do what they please with you. Though the room is classy, truly the place of nobility, as the sound of trumpets brings your attention to the stage.

The Royalty of a Dragon.

Malleus Draconia, The King of Briar Valley.

It’s stranger than most. Whether he chooses to do an alluring dance or to sing into a mic. Maybe he’ll choose to play the violin, or simply read a book. Anything he chooses to do with being done gracefully. And be completely unforgettable. Treating each of his guests like royalty, treating each of them like prized treasure in his cave. He’s loving, yet so fierce. Yet not a sight for just anyone. You must be lucky. Special. One in a Million to find the door of green and push past painful thorns.

══════ ♡ ══════

Prepare yourself, [Name] [Surname] of the Aristotle Family.

ⓒ 2023 love-thanatopsis — all rights reserved. Any sort of plagiarizing, copying, modifying, translating, editing of my works are strictly prohibited

[acaplaya-musings]

Voiceplay Visuals: Drunken Sailor

Man I've been waiting to get to this one!

Drunken Sailor was uploaded on the 12th of August, 2023, and like the other pirate-themed video Voiceplay did akmost two years prior, it features Jose Rosario Jr! It also features Matthew Buckner (aka "Bucky") in an acting role, as the "drunken sailor" that Voiceplay sing about. "Bucky" used to be a vocalist in "4:2:Five" for a while (iirc), and he's good friends with Geoff, and even helped with the choreography for Geoff's Monster Mash video! Just like Hoist The Colours, both the arrangement and video were done by Geoff (who also wrote an original bridge for the song! (genius that he is)), and he also co-directed the video (with Tony), and worked together with Eli on lighting design. This might be one of those posts where I get close to the picture-upload-maximum and have to start counting them just in case, but still, it would be for good reason! So let's go!

Group shot! Shoutout to Pattycake Productions for the set design!

I'm not sure if any of the group are wearing any of the same clothing pieces they wore in Hoist The Colours (I did a brief bit of visual comparison), but Jose, acting as the captain of this "ragtag motley crew" once more, is pretty close.

Also, Geoff is going with the bare-shoulders look again (we always stan), but so is Cesar! (Good For Him)

Not even 10 seconds in and I've already found a funnier-than-first-expected/realized screencap! I'm not sure whose face I love more here - Layne's or Geoff's 😂😂

Obligatory comment that Geoff was absolutely serving looks in this video! The subtle "guyliner" plus the light stubble and the black sleeveless shirt/tunic? I freaking live for it 👀👌

Jose staring right down the camera, and Cesar giving 110% as per usual 😄

Pfft XD

Crazy Eyes Layne back again! 😆

Also look at Eli's face! He's terrified by the story that Layne is 'telling'!

"I'll have that!" (also notice that when Layne makes the whale "eat"/bite the boat, Eli covers his head with his hands in distress! The Lore! The Lore!

PFFFT, if looks could kill! 🤣 (and the fact that he's still beatboxing the whole time really makes this 👌)

Voiceplay said in the comments (in a reply to someone) that "there were a few different takes of this shot, and this was the one where it looked the MOST like Layne was gonna burst into flame." I think they nailed it 😝😁

"Stick him in a scupper with a hosepipe bottom!"

Firstly, it sounds at least like Cesar is singing "hosepipe bottom", but the original line is "hosepipe on him". And despite what Cesar is implying with the wooden toilet seat, the line has nothing to do with toilets or bathrooms. A "scupper" is "an opening in the side walls of a vessel or an open-air structure, which allows water to drain instead of pooling" (according to Wikipedia). Ships have scuppers at deck-level, to allow for rainwater and/or seawater to drain off. So basically the line about "stick him in the scupper with a hosepipe on him" is about spraying the drunken sailor in question with a hose[pipe] (to try to sober him up with a dousing of cold water), in a part of the ship where the water can easily drain away afterwards.

"ew I can't believe I just touched that!"

Yes, that doll is definitely creepy, and I have no clue where Geoff got it from or what gave him the idea, but, according to Geoff in the comments section (comment from Voiceplay's channel, but it was almost definitely him who wrote it): "Her name is Clara and SHE HAS FEELINGS!" 😅

Also, the line "put him in the bed with the captain's daughter" probably isn't actually meant to be taken literally either. The main consensus that I've seen online is that "the captain's daughter" actually referred to a cat-'o'-nine-tails whip. (Not talking about the vocals or arrangement, I'm talking about song background/context! Which I've done before!)

EAR-LY IN THE M O O R R R N I I N N G G G

*YEET*

"Hey that's my cup!" (rip Eli)

Hey look it's the screencap my profile pic comes from! (And for good reason - Geoff is positively unhinged and Cesar's reaction is priceless 🤣)

Also apparently Geoff holding a wooden spoon while singing "I'm gonna carve his heart out" is a reference to the 1991 movie Robin Hood: Prince Of Thieves. "Why a spoon, cousin? Why not an axe?" "Because it's dull, you twit. It'll hurt more!"

"And we should make him listen to Voiceplay while we do it!" "You... are a monster"

(I freaking died laughing first time I watched this bit, also look at Eli's smug grin! 😂)

Have I mentioned that he's gorgeous and I love him?

This video is really just pure unbridled/chaotic fun. It's the best 😁

Cesar twerking! Get it!

It took me an embarassingly long time to release that Geoff isn't actually sitting down in this shot here; he's kneeling instead 😅

Also note that while Layne, Eli, Cesar, and Geoff all freeze into place (in what is apparently sometimes known as a "tableau shot", Jose doesn't, instead doing a little bit of fourth-wall-breaking to give the audience a lighthearted half-shrug 😄

And no, I haven't forgotten the "bonus scene"!

"HEY! Hey, I'm not drunk!"

I'm just tired, because you simpletons been singing all night!"

(Also ayyy another Eli Eyebrow Raise!)

"Wey, hey, and up she rises. Wey, hey, and up she rises. Wey, hey, and UP she rises! Ear-ly in the morn... ONCE AGAIN!"

Aaaaand I've officially hit image limit! At least I did make some attempts to be conservative with screenshots! 😅

This cover is utterly fantastic - all the silliness of "Classic Voiceplay", with the serious skills and high-quality video production of "Modern Voiceplay"! The video is hilarious, the cover is ridiculously creative, and really it just highlights all of the things to love about each person in the video, visually/performance-wise and vocally!

Not many Voiceplay videos left for me to make posts about now, but there are certainly still ridiculously-amazing things to come, so stay tuned!

[thepastisalreadywritten]

Titanic: First ever full-sized scans reveal wreck as never seen before

Titanic departing Southampton on 10 April 1912

By Rebecca Morelle and Alison Francis

BBC News Climate and Science

17 May 2023

The world's most famous shipwreck has been revealed as never seen before.

The first full-sized digital scan of the Titanic, which lies 3,800m (12,500ft) down in the Atlantic, has been created using deep-sea mapping.

It provides a unique 3D view of the entire ship, enabling it to be seen as if the water has been drained away.

The hope is that this will shed new light on exactly what happened to the liner, which sank on 15 April 1912.

More than 1,500 people died when the ship struck an iceberg on its maiden voyage from Southampton to New York.

"There are still questions, basic questions, that need to be answered about the ship," Parks Stephenson, a Titanic analyst, told BBC News.

He said the model was "one of the first major steps to driving the Titanic story towards evidence-based research - and not speculation."

The Titanic has been extensively explored since the wreck was discovered in 1985.

But it's so huge that in the gloom of the deep, cameras can only ever show us tantalizing snapshots of the decaying ship - never the whole thing.

The new scan captures the wreck in its entirety, revealing a complete view of the Titanic.

It lies in two parts, with the bow and the stern separated by about 800m (2,600ft). A huge debris field surrounds the broken vessel.

The scan was carried out in summer 2022 by Magellan Ltd, a deep-sea mapping company, and Atlantic Productions, who are making a documentary about the project.

Submersibles, remotely controlled by a team on board a specialist ship, spent more than 200 hours surveying the length and breadth of the wreck.

They took more than 700,000 images from every angle, creating an exact 3D reconstruction.

Magellan's Gerhard Seiffert, who led the planning for the expedition, said it was the largest underwater scanning project he'd ever undertaken.

"The depth of it, almost 4,000m, represents a challenge, and you have currents at the site, too - and we're not allowed to touch anything so as not to damage the wreck," he explained.

"And the other challenge is that you have to map every square centimetre - even uninteresting parts, like on the debris field you have to map mud, but you need this to fill in between all these interesting objects."

The scan shows both the scale of the ship, as well as some minute details, such as the serial number on one of the propellers.

The bow, now covered in stalactites of rust, is still instantly recognisable even 100 years after the ship was lost.

Sitting on top is the boat deck, where a gaping hole provides a glimpse into a void where the grand staircase once stood.

The stern though, is a chaotic mess of metal. This part of the ship collapsed as it corkscrewed into the sea floor.

In the surrounding debris field, items are scattered, including ornate metalwork from the ship, statues and unopened champagne bottles.

There are also personal possessions, including dozens of shoes resting on the sediment.

Parks Stephenson, who has studied the Titanic for many years, said he was "blown away" when he first saw the scans.

"It allows you to see the wreck as you can never see it from a submersible, and you can see the wreck in its entirety. You can see it in context and perspective. And what it's showing you now is the true state of the wreck."

He said that studying the scans could offer new insight into what happened to the Titanic on that fateful night of 1912.

"We really don't understand the character of the collision with the iceberg. We don't even know if she hit it along the starboard side, as is shown in all the movies - she might have grounded on the iceberg," he explained.

Studying the stern, he added, could reveal the mechanics of how the ship struck the sea floor.

The sea is taking its toll on the wreck, microbes are eating away at it and parts are disintegrating.

Historians are well aware that time is running out to fully understand the maritime disaster.

But the scan now freezes the wreck in time and will allow experts to pore over every tiny detail.

The hope is that the Titanic may yet give up its secrets.

[riddikulus-writings]

Born To Run

FRISAL; 3ABY

DAY 4; Late Afternoon

It was hot.

The cloudless sky was – obviously – doing nothing to save them from the sun. Iavys was seated just in the shade of the cabin with her nose buried in a book, Orron and Kolphi on the opposite end of the deck, looking over the railing as they whispered between themselves.

Cal and Anaya? 

Well, Cal was seated against the railing, his right arm around Anaya’s bare back [she’d taken off her bikini-covering clothing and had immediately become even more of a distraction] and his left hand seated on her upper thigh where her legs rested over his. 

Cal couldn’t help but notice how much of her thigh his hand covered.

He was beginning to notice that Anaya was spending a lot of time noticing that fact, too.

He reached further around her back with his bright-blue cocktail and bumped his glass with the one she harboured in her lap, “Are you enjoying yourself?”

“I’ve never been on a boat.” she whispered, sipping from the green straw in her drink, “And Kolphi was right, the city is breathtaking from the water. Anyways,” she turned to face Iavys, “Iavys, how long have you and Kolphi been together?”

The yellow eyes peering over the book seemed as if they looked right through Cal. Iavys smiled warmly, though, and set her book down, “Almost thirty years. We’ve known each other almost our whole lives. My family traveled to Oktaro when I was in my early teenage years, and the Javals were more than happy to lend us a hand in getting our footing. My dear Kolphi was such a sweetheart.”

“He definitely seems like it,” Anaya smiled fondly at the shared memory.

“What about you two?” Iavys stood and came to sit beside them, “The two of you, being so young, you can’t have been together for long?”

Cal’s grip on Anaya’s thigh tightened. She placed her free hand on top of his, absentmindedly playing with his fingers, “Oh, it almost feels like just yesterday that we fell in love,” he hoped his snide smile came off as loving. Anaya choked on her drink and began coughing, and Cal stopped his about-to-be story-time to tend to her, “Oh, Val, honey, are you alright?”

Through her coughs, Anaya sputtered out that she was fine, just swallowed wrong.

Cal continued gently patting her back, rubbing soothing circles as he stalled to think of a fucking love story, “Our families actually were on Bracca with one another, helping tend to the business there. We were just children when we met, playing games in those grungy scrapyards. We lost connection for almost two decades, my family moving to another sector and then off planet entirely. It wasn’t until just a few years ago that we found each other again on Koboh, of all places,” Cal scoffed and rolled his eyes, “It was an instant reconnection and we decided we just couldn’t wait to be together any longer.”

Iavys placed her hand over her heart, her pointed teeth making her smile seem more sinister than it should’ve been, “Oh, that is just a darling story. I am so happy for the two of you.”

Anaya drained her cocktail before responding, “Thank you so much.” she let his left hand go and dragged her fingers down Cal’s bare chest, placing her hand over Cal’s heart before asking Iavys: “How old is your son?” the three of them glanced at where Kolphi and Orron stood. Orron was a good half foot taller than Kolphi.

“He actually turns eighteen the day after next,” Iavys beamed, tears coming to her eyes, “My baby is all grown up.”

If Anaya could feel Cal’s heart rate speeding up, he really hoped she wouldn’t mention it. Now, or ever, “Do you have any special plans to celebrate?”

“Orron actually requested we rent out the old castle in the center of town,” Kolphi announced, he and Orron coming to join the three of them. Kolphi handed a fresh cocktail to Anaya as he sat, “They use it as an event hall,” he added on after seeing Cal and Anaya’s confused faces, “He wishes for an all-day gala, right, Orron?”

Orron nodded, the sunlight glinting harsh off his oil black hair, “Midnight to midnight. Everyone’s invited,” his grin was halfway to wicked, “Drinks, dancing, the best foods you can find. Not a care in the world for a whole twenty-four hours.”

“That sounds like a fun time,” Anaya nodded.

“You two will come?”

Cal’s eyebrow went up, “Us? Oh, no, we wouldn’t want to impose.”

“Nonsense,” Iavys waved her hand at the two of them, “We’d love for the two of you to join us in celebrating Orron’s coming of age. Kolphi, do tell them?”

Kolphi [and Orron] were both nodding fervently, “Absolutely, the two of you should really get out on the town, party like the newly weds you are.”

“Will be,” Anaya corrected pointedly, but her smile said she liked the notion, anyway, “Neither of us have anything to wear to such a formal event.”

“No worries, I have someone who can help,” Iavys beamed, reaching for her purse, “I have a friend on the outskirts of the city. Ah!” from the depths of her purse she pulled free a small card, “Dodge’s Northstar Sewshop. He and his wife will help get the two of you fitted for something. Tell them that I sent you, and that price is no object.”

Anaya’s mouth was hanging open, “Iavys, we couldn’t possibly–”

Kolphi cut her off, “Consider it a wedding present, then. From us three, in case we never see one another again. I assume the two of you will move to a greener planet to put down roots?”

The grip Cal had on Anaya’s thigh tightened even more, his whole body tensing. Somewhere quiet, with a lot of trees–  “We’ll stay here for a few more years. We haven’t discussed children yet, being so young and all.”

Kolphi, however, showed no signs of malice. Absolutely no signs of having somehow overheard the private conversation Cal and Anaya had the previous night. Kolphi, his wife, and their son were all waiting on the edges of their seats for the two of them to accept their generous offer. Soon, Anaya relented with a sigh, “We will head to your friend’s shop tomorrow, Iavys. Thank you for your kind gift.”

“And you will come to my party?” Orron’s eyes were big. Round with hopefulness that his family’s new friends would come celebrate.

Cal kept eye contact with the kid, “We will be there as soon as the doors open.”

[nicad13]

Crossroads: Chapter 5

The Price of Beskar

Summary: "Alright, kiddo, let’s commit some blasphemy."

Rayne skirts the edge of the Way to save Din's life. Her enemy sorcery can only bring him so far, and he has some Dark Moments. Lessons in Mandalorian culture and history are exchanged, and Din must atone to the Child for his past decisions. Rayne revisits a dark place of her own, and Din starts to figure out how to do the "comfort" side of hurt/comfort.

It's a mess.

Notes: Canon-compliant through Season 1, alt version of Season 2. Posting some old fic before the sequel, which will hopefully be complete by the end of Season 3. Start now so you're ready! AO3 link in the Source at the bottom.

Another beautiful illustration by @catstanbulite.

Tags/Warnings: whump, hurt/comfort, blackouts, blood/injury, flashbacks, Order 66

Rating: Mature

---

Oh, a storm is threat’ning

My very life today

If I don’t get some shelter

Oh yeah, I’m gonna fade away

War, children, it’s just a shot away

Rolling Stones, Gimme Shelter

---

The deck thumped under her as the Razor Crest’s guns fired on swarming Imps.

Her teeth buzzed in her skull as the engines burned. They sounded good. They sounded strong.

Din’s body twitched between her knees as he seized. He was not good. Already, she was covered in his blood, the back of his helmet heavy against her sternum.

Rayne’s vision grayed out, sound fading to a sharp, high whine as she tied the torn-off sheet strip around the upper part of her left arm with her teeth and her right hand. Blood loss, combined with her earlier efforts at Force-controlling a platoon of Imps, threatened to drain the consciousness from her mind.

Another round of gunfire brought her back.

It was just as well there was no table big enough to put his body on. They couldn’t fall off the floor.

Her eyes rolled to the left and down, catching Din’s son at her side. She knew Din had been in rough shape when they first arrived at her hangar a few days ago, knew he’d been suffering through intermittent headaches, knew that the two shots he’d taken to the back of the head would normally not have phased him. “What happened?” she asked the baby. “Can you show me? What happened before?”

Taking her meaning, the kid leaned into her, wound her shirt into his hands, and closed his eyes.

Rayne saw it all from the kid’s perspective.

Saw his father mow the Imps down with an enormous gun. Saw Gideon shoot his father in the back of the head. Saw Gideon take aim for the cannon battery. Saw the explosion throw his father twenty feet in the air. Saw the Shocktrooper drag his father to cover. Saw her pull her hand away, covered in his father’s blood. Saw her try to save his father’s life.

Saw his father refuse.

Oh Din, you idiot.

Saw his father later, somehow, stagger to the front of a boat, swing the jetpack over his shoulders to clip in, launch himself into the air, snag a TIE fighter with his vambrace whipcord, and get flung across the sky.

Oh Din, you ginormous idiot.

The engines changed in pitch as Beta took evasive action, and Rayne was glad for the extra grav she’d installed in the hold, G-forces holding steady. She took the bed sheet in her teeth again and ripped off another strip. “Ok, buddy, time for the blindfold. Sorry about this.” To her great relief, the kid did not object as she wrapped the strip around his head, looping it around his ears to hold it securely over his eyes. “Please don’t squirm out of this like you squirm around locked doors.” That done, she ripped off one more strip, held one end in her teeth, closed her eyes, wrapped it around her head, and tied it off.

She was blind.

“Alright, kiddo, let’s commit some blasphemy.”

She felt around the bottom edge of the helmet and found the release catch on the right side, breaking the seal around Din’s neck. Reaching down his arms, she grabbed the vambraces at his wrists, pulled his hands up, worked her hands up to his wrists, and used his own hands to lift the helmet from his head.

She set the helmet down to her right, the kid still at her side to her left. She slid her right hand up the back of Din’s head, frowning as she felt a shard of his skull protruding through his scalp, slick under his blood and hair. She wrapped her left hand around the front of his head. Concentrating, she mapped out the damage in her mind, feeling the kid next to her, watching, not interfering, but offering strength where he could.

The ship jumped to hyperspace.

The roar of the engines died away as the Razor Crest split the seams between space and time.

With the noise gone, she could now hear Din’s breathing, shallow and labored and rough. Unmodulated by the helmet. Stupid thoughts crossed her mind.

His head is so round.

I’m glad the engines held up.

He really does need a haircut.

She bit her lip and forced herself to focus. Seeing his fractures in her mind, seeing the swelling at both the front and back of his brain, she bled the Force into him, first draining the swelling, repairing the vascular damage, then shifting her right hand to fit his skull back to the right shape, putting the pieces back together, knitting them closed. She sealed the laceration last, killing off any invasive bacteria, smoothing over the scar.

His breathing stabilized.

His body relaxed, seizures ending with the repair of neural tissue.

She felt the kid sag at her side.

She reached for the helmet to her right, but her hands were numb, and she only ended up pushing it out of reach. The high-pitched whine returned to the center of her head, and she felt her arms and legs go heavy and limp. With her vision already blacked out, she did not have the warning of it narrowing to a pinpoint before it winked out entirely with her consciousness.

Gamma, the bot that had shuttled Din and the baby to the safety of the hold, crouched in the corner and shivered as it watched three living beings lay unconscious in a drying puddle of blood.

---

The first thing Din was aware of was the hum of his ship in hyperspace.

A familiar sound.

A comforting sound.

Few things could hurt him here.

He was safe.

He was just sleeping.

Was he sleeping? He was at a weird angle. He tasted blood in his mouth. He smelled blood. Heavy iron. He turned his head, feeling his hair stick to whatever he was on top of.

No helmet. He felt the rest of his armor weighing him down, but no helmet.

He forced his eyes open and sat up. Looking down, he saw boots that weren’t his at his hips.

Someone was still in them.

Sucking in a breath, he rolled to a crouch, drew his sidearm, and turned.

Goddammit.

Rayne and his son were passed out against the bulkhead, blindfolded. Rayne was soaked in blood. He put his hand to the back of his head, felt a drying, caking mess back there, and realized she was covered in his blood. He saw the bandage on her left arm, soaked with her blood as well.

The world tilted sideways for a moment. He closed his eyes, placed his hands on the floor to steady himself, and opened them again, holstering his sidearm.

He moved toward them, not recalling the last thing he remembered, not caring how they’d all gotten to where they were. The past could wait. He checked his son first, finding no wounds, his breathing and pulse were normal. None of the blood on his robe was his. Din picked him up and put him in his crate.

He turned his attention to Rayne.

Her breathing was shallow; her pulse was thin, but steady. He peeled her shirt off, up and over her head, threading her arms through the holes. One thing that sleeping with a crew member actually managed to make less awkward was getting them out of their clothes to check for blaster wounds. Nothing he hadn’t already seen twice over, and he knew where the old scars were by now. No major wounds other than her arm; most of the blood on her shirt was his, then. He did the same with the leggings, frowning at the bruise rising at her hip. He pulled a tracking fob out of a pocket and set it aside, not thinking about it. He cleaned the blood and dirt off of her as well as he could, treated the wound on her arm with bacta from his medkit, along with the scrapes on her face, hands, elbows, and knees. He felt almost as if he was being piloted from far away, not entirely present in his tasks, disassociated from it all. The one exception was when Rayne tensed at the sting of the bacta, which loosened some of the tension in him, knowing she had enough left in her to at least respond to something. Not knowing where she’d stowed her clothes and not yet comfortable with rummaging around in her stuff, he pulled out one of his shirts, a pair of shorts, and a pair of socks, then set about the task of wrestling her into all of it. At long last, he had her bundled up in the bunk with what was left of the sheet, the blanket, plus an extra blanket for good measure.

Winded, he turned his attention to the puddle of blood smeared on the deck.

A little goes a long way, he told himself, but… still. It looked like a lot. He had no way of telling how much of it was his and how much of it was Rayne’s. He was wiped out. He couldn’t just leave it there, and he still had to get himself squared away, but… still. He put his back to the bulkhead and slid down to the floor next to the bunk, where Rayne had him before. He reached for his helmet, just barely within his arm span, and slipped it over his head. Uh. More blood in there, too. He’d get to it in a minute. Just…

He let his eyes slip closed.

Just for a minute.

Gamma sat in the corner and watched.

---

The ship dropped out of hyperspace.

Din snapped awake.

They coasted for a moment, then jumped back to lightspeed.

Right. Their first decoy stop.

They’d been going in the wrong direction on purpose for five hours.

Five hours? Had he really been sitting on the deck of his own ship, in a puddle of his own blood, for five hours?

He pulled his feet in and pushed himself up to standing. It finally occurred to him to wonder what had happened to put them all in this state of affairs. The fob on the floor caught his eye and he picked it up.

It all came back.

He’d watched from the rooftop as Rayne convinced a Stormtrooper to hand the fob to her, and then he’d fallen like a load of bricks. And then the rest of them had fallen like dominos.

He remembered taking a bolt to the shoulder.

He turned and saw his jetpack on the floor, scraped up and covered in dirt.

He would never remember the two bolts to the back of his head, but he could figure it out well enough. He sighed, putting it all together.

He would deal with the picture the pieces made later. He still had a lot more work to do.

His son was snoring in his crate. Rayne was a quieter sleeper and he had to lean into the bunk and check her pulse at her neck before he was satisfied that she was ok. He turned and sat at the end of it, taking a moment to key his vambrace to receive the biometrics from her wristband. He set it to a light tap-buzz at the back of his wrist synched with her pulse so he would know if anything changed.

He removed their blindfolds. Something in his gut tightened at the sight of them in his hand, the realization that Rayne had taken the time for them before removing his helmet. He felt a mix of relief, gratitude, and betrayal at what she had done. Too exhausted to make any headway with it, he continued with his work.

He changed his son’s robe, dealt with the dried swath of blood on the deck, and then pulled the armor off. Cleaning that was a chore that would keep until later; the blood on it was his own, some of it might have been Rayne’s but the armor was not desecrated with the blood of enemies. Stepping into the fresher, he finally shucked himself out of his blood-soaked clothes, and, removing the helmet, took a look in the mirror.

The image of IG-11 flashed in his vision.

He closed his eyes, counted to ten, and tried again.

Just his own face this time, but the same bloody mess he had been after Nevarro.

He watched as the E-Web cannon battery blew up in his face.

The next time he opened his eyes, he was on the floor, the metal bulkhead cold against the bare skin of his back, arms covering his head.

Get your shit together. He pulled himself up. Don’t look in the mirror. He brushed his teeth to get the taste of blood out of his mouth, closing his eyes until he rinsed the basin so he wouldn’t see it. He forced himself into the cramped shower, got it as hot as he could stand it, and again kept his eyes closed so he wouldn’t see the blood run off. He chanced running his hand over the back of his head and found that things felt normal back there, the odd bump that had been with him for the past week and a half no longer present. When his fingers started to prune up, he shimmied out, dried off, and set about cleaning his helmet out the best he could without looking at what came out of it. When he had resigned himself to the idea of putting it back on over wet hair, his eye happened to catch Rayne’s hairdryer in the rack where he’d stowed it earlier.

Oh thank god.

The one chore in this whole waking hell of a day that would feel good.

The pure frivolousness of warm, blowing air nearly broke him down. He didn’t care. The tears came and he didn’t care. He’d cracked his skull open for the second time in less than two weeks, nearly died of a head injury for the second time in less than two weeks, lost what looked like two pints of blood, apparently got put back together again by an enemy sorcerer who was now passed out in his bunk, probably assisted by his enemy sorcerer child who was also passed out, had changed everyone on board out of blood-soaked clothes, and having dry hair before putting the helmet back on was the best fucking thing to happen to him in decades and he had no more fucks to give about the fact that his face was spewing tears over it.

Rayne was right about needing downtime. He was ready to sleep for a hundred years.

Thoroughly dry, he slipped the helmet back on, stepped out of the fresher, dressed in clean clothes, put his vambraces back on, scooped up all of the blood-soaked items littering the deck, and stuffed them in the clothes unit.

Done.

He turned to the bunk and stopped. Crawling in there with Rayne didn’t feel quite right, at the moment. He needed some space, at least until they had another discussion about helmet rules. Flight deck it was, then. He picked up his son’s crate and headed up the ladder.

He froze when he got to the top to find the bot on the flight deck, jacked into the droid port, flying his ship.

Would this shitshow of a day never end?

The bot turned and greeted him with a chirp.

“Get. Out.” His voice sounded like snapping ice. The bot made a sad-sounding noise as it set the ship to autopilot and jacked out. Din sighed and tried again. “Get out, please.” The bot chirped once more, then headed down the ladder.

Finally, Din put his son’s crate in the starboard jump-seat and eased himself into the pilot chair. Taking the sleeping child into his lap, he strapped himself into the chair so he wouldn’t fall out if it, turned to prop his feet up on the port jump-seat, and eased back.

The blue-white ripple of hyperspace flowed above them.

His body ached, even as his head was finally free from pain.

He could feel his son’s heartbeat through his hand. He could feel Rayne’s pulse through the vambrace on the back of his wrist. As Din dozed off, he realized that the two were perfectly synchronized, Rayne’s heart beating once for every three of the baby’s.

Together, they had saved his life, today.

He wondered if, together, they would be his undoing.

---

She woke up disoriented, not knowing where she was, alarmed at the blurry image of an armor-clad figure seated in a chair at the foot of the bunk. When her brain finally caught up and she realized it was Din, she relaxed, rubbing her eyes. When her vision cleared, she noticed the tension in his shoulders. Her eyes dropped to see that he had drawn his sidearm blaster and was holding it in his lap.

Ok, back to being alarmed.

She sat up and slid so her back was against the rear wall. “How’s the kid?”

“Fine.” His voice was low, menacing.

“The customary response to someone who saved your life is to say ‘Thank you.’“

“You removed my helmet.” In that moment, she saw the cold-blooded killer he often was. He knew she was claustrophobic. She knew he cornered her in here on purpose. A small part of her hated him for it.

She schooled herself back, knowing his reaction came from a place of self-defense, and possibly, some gaps in his memory. She looked at her arms, clad in a shirt that wasn’t hers. “Why am I wearing your clothes?”

His head cocked to the side.

“Where did you wake up?”

“Flight deck.”

“Do you remember how you got up there?”

“… No.”

“What’s the last thing you remember?”

“Waking up on the deck with my helmet off.”

“Are blackouts a thing for you?”

“It’s against the Creed.” Rage still drove the words, but his voice cracked with uncertainty.

“You’re telling me you would choose to die for your religion over living for your son?”

Is that what I did before?

Despite the fact that he literally had her backed into a corner, her eyes drilled into him, daring him to tell her she was wrong. Daring him to use the weapon in his hand. He took a deep breath and holstered his sidearm.

His vambrace began its tap-buzz against the back of his wrist once more, set to activate for half an hour after any change in Rayne’s pulse rate, and her heart was hammering, now. It startled him, the memory of setting it only now returning.

And then the rest of it came back.

Running from the Imps. Taking a shot in the shoulder. Waking up on the floor without his helmet on. His jetpack, scraped up and covered in dirt. Cleaning an enormous amount of blood off the deck. Unwrapping blindfolds from her and his son. Changing them both out of blood-soaked clothes. Having a hallucination or two in the fresher.

Out of all that, why had he blacked out all but the most incriminating bit?

He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and put his head in his hands, shaking. “I’m sorry.” His voice cracked over the modulator.

Rayne slid forward. The space between Din’s knees and the bunk was enough for her to get her legs out, sit on the edge, and reach for his hands. He accepted, gripping her hands in his, pressing them back against the top of the helmet. Realization, guilt, and confusion rolled off of him in waves.

She let him ride it out, and when it subsided after a minute or two, she pulled his hands away from his head, sitting up. “You had a pre-existing skull fracture.”

“Yes.” He sat back.

“How did it happen?”

“I was standing next to an E-web cannon battery when Gideon fired on it. It detonated.”

“How did you treat it?”

“I let a droid use bacta.”

“What else did you do before it had a chance to heal?”

“I… tethered Gideon’s TIE fighter in mid-air and blew it up.” He tilted his head. “Why do I get the feeling you know all this already?”

“I knew everything except for the bit about the droid. I asked your kid what you did to yourself. I didn’t actually expect an answer, but he gave me one.” She released one of his hands to tap the side of her head with her own. “It was quite a show.” She took his hand again. “I asked you point-blank if your headaches were ok, and you said yes. You lied to me. You don’t get to jeopardize an op like that anymore. You don’t get to withhold information, put me in the position to make life decisions for you, and then play the religion card when I save your life. You have to be honest with me if this is going to work.”

He nodded his understanding. “Is that what he thinks I did before? Does he think I chose an honorable death over living for him?”

“Sure looked like it.”

“Do you understand what it means for me to take this off in the light? To show my face to anyone?”

“Not entirely.”

“When I swore the Creed, I swore my soul to the manda. While we live, it’s a balance of the mind, body, and spirit.” He brought his right hand to his forehead, dropped it to his heart, then back up to the side of his head. “We pass to it when we die to become part of the oversoul. Our collective conscious.”

Rayne smiled. “Sounds suspiciously like the Force.”

Din let out a sharp exhale. “You were born with sensitivity to the Force. Mandalorians have to earn the manda. Live by the Resol’nare. The Six Actions. Wearing the armor is the first action. Our secrecy is our survival. I’ve sworn my soul to the manda. If I break the Resol’nare, if I remove my armor and reveal my face, reveal that secret, I don’t get it back. I become dar’manda.”

“Soulless,” Rayne said.

He tilted his head at her familiarity with the term. “Yes.” He paused there, taking a long sigh. “I thought I was already dead on Nevarro. I was paralyzed from the waist down. I was blind in my left eye. Deaf on the left side. I knew I couldn’t keep breathing for much longer.” His tone was edged, the memory was a powerful one, and she felt it almost as her own, tasting the blood in his mouth as it kept filling, swallowing it back down so as not to drown in the helmet with it. “I knew I was leaving him no matter what anyone did for me and that terrified me. Losing my soul at the same time… dar’manda the moment before joining the manda…” His voice hitched, unable to continue.

“I blindfolded myself. I blindfolded your son. I used your hands to pull the helmet off. I didn’t touch your face.”

“You saved my life without destroying my soul. Thank you.”

“What happens if I have to look you in the eye to save your life?”

Another deep sigh. “He’s my son, now. If it comes down to it, living to be his father is worth the price of my soul.” His voice was heavy.

A small squeak sounded from the bottom of the ladder and they both turned to see the baby with those huge eyes shining, arms up, wanting to be held.

“Ad’ika,” Din pushed back in his chair and got up, sweeping the baby up in his arms. Rayne took the opportunity to escape the confines of the bunk, standing in time to see the baby turn his face into Din’s cowl and let out a sob, tiny fingers digging into the material around his neck.

“Whoa…” She took a step back, one hand at her forehead.

Din did a double-take between her and his son, the memory of Cara’s hands at her own throat clawing at the back of his mind. “What? What’s he doing?”

“It’s ok,” she closed her eyes, running her hand through her hair. “He’s just… angry about it. About Nevarro.” She opened her eyes and held Din’s gaze, brow furrowed. “This kind anger in a Force-sensitive kid… as powerful as he is…” She shook her head. “You have to talk to him. Now.”

The baby let out another sob, and Din tried to soothe him with a hand on his back. “Will he understand?”

She stood in the hold, wearing his clothes, one hand still in her hair, the other at her hip, holding up the shorts that were too loose on her frame, her face a study of worry for his son, and that tightness returned to his chest.

“I think maybe I can help translate.” Not trusting herself to stand, she took a seat in the chair and held her hands out. “Come here, kiddo. Your dad needs to tell you something.” The baby turned to her as Din handed him off and took his own seat at the edge of the bunk. Once again, she met Din’s gaze through the visor. “You need to say the words, but what you feel will be more important. I probably won’t have to do much. Just re-interpret if he misunderstands anything.”

Din nodded as Rayne turned the baby in her lap to face him. Din leaned forward, elbows on his knees so he was closer to eye-level with his son.

And then he closed his eyes and lowered his head, because it was too much to look his son in the eye and say the words at the same time.

“I’m sorry… about before. I thought I was dead. I didn’t choose my religion over you. I didn’t think I had a choice at all. Leaving you was the last thing I wanted. I did everything I could to make sure you wouldn’t be alone. I was… scared. Of all the things that scared me about dying, leaving you alone was the worst. Of all the things I never wanted for you, I never wanted for you to be alone.”

Din’s guilt and sorrow washed over them both, and the baby’s ears flattened against his shoulders, tiny body trembling. Tell him how things will be different, Rayne pushed the thoughts at him. Don’t make any promises you can’t keep, but tell him you love him.

Din once again brought his hands to the top of his head and another wave of guilt rolled off of him as his shoulders shook. “I will always choose you…” His voice choked off, and Rayne was assaulted by simultaneous memories from both of them of the same moment, a vision of Din clad in mis-matched armor, standing before a container of beskar ingots, as the baby was led away.

Oh god, she realized. He did go through with it. He traded the baby for the beskar.

Din’s breathing was labored through the modulator. “I won’t ever forgive myself for that. I won’t ever ask you to forgive me for it. Every time I put this armor on, I…” He broke off again, the pain of the memory gripping him in a visceral way, and the child’s body was rigid in Rayne’s hands. “I do it so I can protect you. It doesn’t belong to me. I bought it with your life. It belongs to you. I belong to you.”

The child sat in the lap of his father’s new friend, the woman he had saved so she could save his father, felt her hands around him, steady him, give him the buoyancy he needed to survive the flood of his father’s guilt, keep him from drowning in his father’s sorrow.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry…”

His father’s voice was raw, and the child knew it was too soon for his father to love. His father was still too damaged, no matter how much he may have wanted to provide it. That part of him simply had not worked for a long time, had shattered apart under the force of a concussion blast while huddled in a bunker, and it would be a while yet before it would work again.

But his father’s new friend was good at fixing things. Had brought new life to their ship, their home. Had kept his father’s life from spilling out of the broken parts of him. Maybe she could find his other broken parts and fix those, too, and then his father could love him.

Maybe she could love him, too.

And so the child reached up to his father, knowing that his father wanted to be better, knowing that his father would no longer betray him, no longer abandon him, hoping that, in time, his father would be able to love him. And when his father swept him up, he cried with happiness. He cried with acceptance. He cried with his own love, that someday might be reciprocated.

Din held his crying son in his arms, tiny body trembling, hearing that the tone in his son’s cries was different but not knowing how. Looking to Rayne with a silent question, her eyes shining, she gave him a nod and a tired smile.

Good enough.

---

Din and the baby retired to the bunk, Din still wiped out from all the blood loss and needing some sleep without the helmet. So long as the door remained closed and the lights off, it was ok for the baby to remain with him.

Rayne was famished, so after finding her clean clothes and changing into them, she fixed herself a huge plate of noodles and meat and settled down at the small table in the hold to eat it, enjoying some time alone and the hum of the ship around her.

The tracking fob keyed to Din and the baby’s chain codes lay on the table before her.

They’d pulled it off.

The cost had almost been insurmountable, but they all managed to hold it together.

Gamma crept up to her, sounding a timid warble.

“Whoa, hey, I forgot all about you. I’m sorry about that. You probably need to get charged up, huh?”

It chirped an affirmative.

Rayne frowned. “You’ve been down here the whole time?”

Yes.

“You saw Din’s face? Without the helmet?”

Yes.

“You have a record of it?”

Yes.

“You can play it back?”

Yes.

She sighed, casting a glance at the closed door of the bunk. “Go grab my spanner, will you?” The bot did as it was told, returning with the tool. She directed it to have a seat on the floor before her so she could open the access panel to its memory core.

“Sorry, buddy. I gotta wipe your memory from launch time.”

Okay.

---

Several hours later, the door to the bunk slid open and Din grunted his way out. He nodded to Rayne as she looked up from her work at the table, having pulled the fob apart, sorting through the pieces. She nodded back and returned to her task.

He headed up the ladder to the galley and warmed up a bowl of soup, slipping the helmet off to down a bottle of water. He had no idea what time it was. Didn’t really matter. All that mattered was that they were safe, his son seemed to have more-or-less forgiven his transgressions, and his head felt a hell of a lot better. He took his time with the soup, his son occupied with sleep, Rayne occupied with the fob, and was somewhat astonished at how good the soup tasted now that he could actually focus on what he was eating.

He still felt woozy from all the blood loss and knew it would be a week or two before that went away, but his head was remarkably clear.

Sometimes you didn’t realize how broken something was until it got fixed.

He stepped onto the flight deck. Another five hours until they dropped out of hyperspace for the second time. They would coast a bit again, then fold back in. They would arrive at Methuselah in about a day.

He headed back down to the hold and joined Rayne at the table. The scrapes on her face were almost gone, responding well to the bacta. “How’s the arm?”

She sat back and looked down to the bandage wrapped just below the Rebel Starbird tattoo. “It’s good. Thanks for taking care of that for me.”

He shrugged. “I owe you a few. Stormtooper bolt?”

“Yeah.”

“I saw the bruise on your hip.”

“Yep. Goes all the way from by butt to my knee, now.”

“Wanna fill me in?”

“You took two bolts to the back of the head, lost consciousness, and your jetpack took you on a nice little joyride before plowing you in the dirt. Gamma got you and the kid back to the ship. I got back a little late. Your kid had to pull me through the door and wound up throwing me into the hull on the other side.”

“Lost some skin somewhere.”

She shrugged. “Dodged a bolt and tripped.”

Satisfied that she was ok, he turned his attention to her work. “How’s it going with the fob?”

“It’s not quite what I expected, but it all makes sense. I’ll be able to work with it. The fact that it doesn’t work on the ship means I got the ship-scrambler right, anyway.”

He nodded. “You were distracted by something before we left. Said we could talk about it later.” He leaned back in his seat. “It’s later.”

She looked at the visor for a few moments, then packed up the fob and all of its pieces into the box she had procured for it. She got up, crossed the hold to the locked drawer he had given her, placed the fob in it, retrieved something else, crossed back, and placed an eight-inch metal cylinder on the table as she sat back down.

Din recognized it as a weapon, but one that he did not understand how to handle, so he refrained from picking it up.

Rayne seemed to look at it with trepidation, not quite knowing where to start.

“Start at the beginning,” Din prompted.

“I was raised at the Jedi temple on Coruscant,” she began. “Our first rite of passage was the Gathering. They took us to a temple where we faced our greatest fears, and if we succeeded, we were able to find our kyber crystal. We then build our first lightsaber around that crystal.” She nodded to the object on the table. “Despite starting early, I wasn’t all that promising, so they wouldn’t let me participate in a Gathering until I was ten. Up until that point, we’re raised by lower-level masters, and the clones hung out with us a lot so we could get used to them. They taught us some Mando’a. They called us ad’ika. We called them ba’vodu. The Jedi Order eschewed family, but the clones were our uncles. Some of us had favorites. Mine was CT-24EGL. Eagle. He called me Mir’sheb verd.”

Din huffed a laugh. “Smartass warrior. Fits.”

She was turned sideways to the table, legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles, turning a spanner over and over again in her hands. With few exceptions, she had not been particularly emotive in the short time Din had known her, but now her affect seemed especially flat, as if she was reading from a grocery list instead of talking about what was shaping up to be a pivotal moment in her life. He recognized her disassociation, remembered it in the other foundlings growing up, recognized it in himself from how he had described the droid attack on his village to her earlier.

“He never teased me about being a late bloomer. Always said it was better to wait until I was ready and do it right than try too soon and fail. So I finally went when I was ten. I faced down my worst fears, and I succeeded. A yellow crystal lit up in front of me and I picked it up. When we got back to Coruscant, Eagle was the first person I found and I showed it to him. He was at dinner late. I found him in the caf, and… he was proud of me.”

She paused again, turning the spanner over and over again in her hands, gaze focused on the floor.

“And while we were sitting there, eating dinner, talking about my first Jedi rite of passage, Order 66 came through.”

Another pause, and Din took a long, shaky breath.

“He had his helmet on the table and I heard it over the com. He… started to act weird. Something… the Force, told me to run, and I did.” Her hands let go of the spanner and it clattered to the deck. She brought her right hand to the top of her left shoulder, and Din remembered the scar there.

“Your uncle shot you.” His voice was rough.

“Yeah. One second, he’s congratulating me on the most important moment of my ten-year-old life, the next, he’s trying to end it. On a single order. No questions asked.”

She was still outwardly calm, but Din’s vambrace once more began to buzz her pulse against his wrist, sensing the increase in her heart rate. He’d forgotten to turn it off.

“I managed to get out of the caf and crawled up the ventilation shaft to wait things out. I listened to everyone else get slaughtered by the clones. I stayed in that shaft for three days until I thought it was safe to leave.”

“That explains the claustrophobia.”

“Yeah.”

“And the armor thing.”

“Yeah.”

Din suppressed a shiver. “Between my blackout and your phobias, we almost killed each other earlier.”

“I had it under control.”

“I’m glad one of us did.”

“Yeah.” She turned to face the table and picked up the cylinder. “Anyway. I had my crystal, so I eventually built my lightsaber. The traditional weapon of the Jedi.” She indicated the end with the yellow tape around it. “This is the pointy end. Don’t be on it.” She got up, stepped away from the table, and activated the saber.

Din tilted his head in awe.

He never saw a bright, noisy weapon that he didn’t like.

She moved through a couple of positions, and Din noticed how differently she handled it from the sparing saber, like she actually knew what she was doing with this one. She deactivated it and returned to the table. “I’ll give you one guess as to the one and only material a lightsaber can’t cut through.”

“Beskar?”

“Chicken dinner to the man in the shiny hat.”

He allowed himself a small laugh.

“You keep projecting a phrase at me. Enemy sorcerer. Why?”

“You can hear that?”

“You repeat it in your head all the time when I’m right next to you.”

“I’m… sorry. The armorer at Nevarro. She said the Jedi were enemies of Mandalore.”

Rayne nodded. “Our history is… complex. The short version is that many Mandalorian weapons, beskar in particular, were designed to thwart Jedi tactics, use of the Force, and lightsabers. Mandalorian weaponry is what it is as a result of the Jedi.”

“What does that mean for us?”

Rayne shrugged. “Only that you have a better chance at killing me than most.”

“I was thinking the same about you.”

She smiled. “That’s very sweet of you. The trick is, the two are not mutually exclusive. There was, at one time, a Mandalorian Jedi. Tarre Vizsla.”

Vizsla. Din almost choked at the name.

“Like all Jedi, Vizsla built his own lightsaber. Being a Mandalorian, he decided to completely alter the design and make his a mashup between a lightsaber and a vibroblade. It became known as the Darksaber. It bounced around after Vizsla passed and was eventually used as a symbol to unite Mandalore. Have you heard of it at all?”

“No.”

“They keep you under a rock or something?”

“History wasn’t a focus in the Fighting Corps.”

 “Well, you’re gonna to want to brush up. Guess who has the Darksaber now?”

“Gideon.” Din’s voice was ice cold.

“Yeah. I saw it on the news before we left. They broadcasted a video of him beheading three people with it. My lightsaber and your beskar are the only things we have that can stop it.”

---

Rayne came down the ladder after tucking the kid in his crate on the flight deck for the night. He was still wiped out from helping her heal Din and the emotional ordeal after that, so he fell asleep quickly.

She reached the bottom to find Din pulling his shirt off over his helmet and tossing it in the clothes unit, already shed of the beskar, boots, and gloves. He approached with caution, hooking one of her fingers with one of his own. “I… wasn’t sure what you wanted, tonight. I knew what you didn’t want…”

“Thank you.” He was correct in that she had not wanted the shared ritual of removing his armor at the moment. As for what had come after that the two times before, though… 

“I… lost a lot of blood.”

“I know.”

“I’m not sure I can-”

“Me neither.” She gave him a wan smile.

He breathed a relieved sigh through the modulator. “Will it be ok for you in here?” He indicated the cramped bunk.

“I’ll be fine.”

He slid in behind her, and the only light came from the control panels out in the hold. He lay a hand on her ribs, unsure of what she wanted, relieved when she took his hand and pulled his arm around her. Only then did it all finally come down on her, and he felt hot tears on his hand as her breath became ragged. He was my uncle. The words pressed into his mind, and he wasn’t sure if she’d meant to do it or not. Why did my uncle try to kill me? She lost it, an angry sob tearing through her, and he could feel her rage buzz through his helmet. He wanted nothing more than to take it off so he could press his head to hers, provide the comfort she needed, at the very least, just be there without wearing the very thing she couldn’t stand to look at or touch in this very moment. He had to settle for tightening his arm around her.

He couldn’t imagine it, to not ever know his own parents, to eke out the most rudimentary kind of family, only for it to turn around and attempt to end his life. Her image of him at the foot of the bunk when she had woken up flashed into his mind, and he saw himself as she had seen him then, another armor-clad figure with a gun, ready to kill her. God, he hated himself for it, felt his stomach turn, knowing he deserved all the pain she threw at him tonight. “I’m sorry,” he said, his own voice wet with tears. “I won’t ever do that again. I won’t ever draw a weapon on you again.”

She had warned him about not making promises he couldn’t keep to his son.

It had not occurred to her to warn him not to make promises he couldn’t keep to her.

It was a promise he would break.

[xtruss]

Titanic: First Ever Full-Sized Scans Reveal Wreck As Never Seen Before

— 17 May 2023 | By Rebecca Morelle and Alison Francis

The bow of the Titanic is still instantly recognisable even after so long underwater

The world's most famous shipwreck has been revealed as never seen before.

The first full-sized digital scan of the Titanic, which lies 3,800m (12,500ft) down in the Atlantic, has been created using deep-sea mapping.

It provides a unique 3D view of the entire ship, enabling it to be seen as if the water has been drained away.

The hope is that this will shed new light on exactly what happened to the liner, which sank in 1912.

More than 1,500 people died when the ship struck an iceberg on its maiden voyage from Southampton to New York.

"There are still questions, basic questions, that need to be answered about the ship," Parks Stephenson, a Titanic analyst, told BBC News.

He said the model was "one of the first major steps to driving the Titanic story towards evidence-based research - and not speculation."

The bow of the Titanic is still instantly recognisable even after so long underwater

The Titanic has been extensively explored since the wreck was discovered in 1985. But it's so huge that in the gloom of the deep, cameras can only ever show us tantalizing snapshots of the decaying ship - never the whole thing.

The new scan captures the wreck in its entirety, revealing a complete view of the Titanic. It lies in two parts, with the bow and the stern separated by about 800m (2,600ft). A huge debris field surrounds the broken vessel.

The scan was carried out in summer 2022 by Magellan Ltd, a deep-sea mapping company, and Atlantic Productions, who are making a documentary about the project.

Submersibles, remotely controlled by a team on board a specialist ship, spent more than 200 hours surveying the length and breadth of the wreck.

They took more than 700,000 images from every angle, creating an exact 3D reconstruction.

The scan is made up from 700,000 images captured by submersibles

The large hole to the right of the boat deck opens over where the grand staircase once stood

Magellan's Gerhard Seiffert, who led the planning for the expedition, said it was the largest underwater scanning project he'd ever undertaken.

"The depth of it, almost 4,000m, represents a challenge, and you have currents at the site, too - and we're not allowed to touch anything so as not to damage the wreck," he explained.

"And the other challenge is that you have to map every square centimetre - even uninteresting parts, like on the debris field you have to map mud, but you need this to fill in between all these interesting objects."

The scan shows both the scale of the ship, as well as some minute details, such as the serial number on one of the propellers.

The stern, which has separated from the bow, is a chaotic tangle of steel

The stern corkscrewed into the seabed as it plunged into the depths

The bow, now covered in stalactites of rust, is still instantly recognisable even 100 years after the ship was lost. Sitting on top is the boat deck, where a gaping hole provides a glimpse into a void where the grand staircase once stood.

The stern though, is a chaotic mess of metal. This part of the ship collapsed as it corkscrewed into the sea floor.

In the surrounding debris field, items are scattered, including ornate metalwork from the ship, statues and unopened champagne bottles. There are also personal possessions, including dozens of shoes resting on the sediment.

Extraordinary detail can be seen of the ship

The serial number on a propeller can be made out

Parks Stephenson, who has studied the Titanic for many years, said he was "blown away" when he first saw the scans.

"It allows you to see the wreck as you can never see it from a submersible, and you can see the wreck in its entirety, you can see it in context and perspective. And what it's showing you now is the true state of the wreck."

He said that studying the scans could offer new insight into what happened to the Titanic on that fateful night of 1912.

"We really don't understand the character of the collision with the iceberg. We don't even know if she hit it along the starboard side, as is shown in all the movies - she might have grounded on the iceberg," he explained.

Studying the stern, he added, could reveal the mechanics of how the ship struck the sea floor.

The hope is that the scan could reveal more about what happened on the night the Titanic was lost

The sea is taking its toll on the wreck, microbes are eating away at it and parts are disintegrating. Historians are well aware that time is running out to fully understand the maritime disaster.

But the scan now freezes the wreck in time, and will allow experts to pore over every tiny detail. The hope is the Titanic may yet give up its secrets.

The Titanic was the world's largest passenger ship when it entered service

[journeysofpatrickandarchana]

The toughest yet!

"Difficulties are things that show a person what they are." Epictetus



Original blog posted: 19th April 2013

We left Grenada on Easter Saturday at the crack of dawn. The anticipated travel time to Bonaire was 3 days to cover the 430nm at an average of 6kts.

For breakfast we had a fresh papaya with lime juice, the usual cereals, bread and jam.

As we left, the yacht appeared to be moving differently and I started feeling a bout of sea-sickness, the worst experienced so far. Two dinners for underway had already been prepared, a bologna sauce by Georges for Sunday night and a chilli con crane by Patrick for the following night. Despite the sea sickness I was hell bent on preparing an Indian Pea (mutter) Pulao for dinner that night. The combination of the motion sickness and the heat in the galley finally resulted in the worst thing that can happen in these situations.....I ended up on the leeward side emptying my breakfast overboard. Patrick, kind husband that he is, ran frantically from the bridge (after hearing a blood curdling cry of Paaaartrickkkkkk) and came by my side to assist with some water and bucket and reprimanding me at the same time for very elagantly leaning with head through the safety wires outside the yacht rather than using a bucket. Patrick had heard of people losing balance and ending up overboard carrying out this behaviour.

A breeze of fresh air cooled down my face and I felt a bit better. As I focused on the horizon, Phil and Sibylle who were at the bow sounded excited and when I looked down, I saw the most amazing sea-creature ever, a sea turtle that was at least 5 feet long was swimming close by our port side in the opposite direction and only managing to get out of the way of the yacht at the very last moment. All the excitement and elation took away my thoughts of the motion sickness for the time being.

We also counted our blessings that the turtle was on the side and not directly under the boat as he could have done some serious damage to the boat and himself.

Georges helped me with keeping an eye on the pulao that was now cooking by itself n a pressure cooker. Phil and Sibylle prepared the lunch platter while I continued fighting the motion sickness in the interim.

It was recommended that at this stage that I start taking the tablets and give up on the acupressure bands, ginger and other natural remedies. I noticed Phil and Sibylle were also fighting motion sickness in their own way but I was not yet ready to take the pill (sea sickness pill that is).

In the late afternoon I made another attempt at cooking and made a coconut curry (kokam kadhi) to go with the pulao for the dinner. But I felt drained at the end of it.

Many years ago in 1997 I had sailed in a tall ships race from Okinawa to Osaka. My memories of that trip are varied and distinct. The worst one about being permanently sea-sick, wrenching my guts out while being harnessed and tethered to the leeward side of the boat. Going down to the bunks with round portholes with the view of the water level half covering the porthole it felt like being tumbled in a washing machine. This feeling would make me extremely ill and hence for the later half of the trip I only slept (more like lying half-dead) in the saloon area of that boat with people eating around me and talking about me. However this was far better than being tumbled in the dry washing machine downstairs.

As result of this memory I wanted to sleep on the back deck in the open with some fresh air covered with a beach towel and another rolled up towel under my neck to support the head. When Patrick finished his shift at mid-night he checked on me and tried to convince me to sleep inside or in the cabin.

By inside he meant the saloon, but this would be occupied by Colin, who was happy to sleep out side the cabin even though he could have shared with either Georges or Nick when underway. (In port Colin either slept outside under the hard bimini, on the trampoline, in the pod, in the saloon or even in 2 single cabins in the fore peak. Lots of options here!

So I slept on the lounge outside and Patrick went to our cabin downstairs. Despite the 3 meter tall waves and the speed of the wind my tired body was rocked to sleep by the movement of the boat. Peace at last........

Like a nightmare I was woken up by the feeling of drowning with salt water rushing down my ears and my nose. This wasn't really happening, no it was a dream, no I was awake and it was real. I was gasping for air, the towel covering me was soaking wet and so was the one under me. My clothes and my hair were wet and finally after what seemed like forever I was able to breathe. What would have probably been a few seconds had summed up my life for me with the thought that if we were drowning I should have been next to my Patrick. (The violin has started playing)!!!!!

It took a while for me to gather my thoughts and senses and realise that a stray wave of unusual height had hit the aft of the boat and the water splashed up to water log me. The wave had been tall enough to soak Georges who was on the bridge (3m above the sea level) on night watch while Patrick rested.

Once I realised that I was alive and the boat was okay I collected myself and walked down to our cabin. I have never slept on the aft lounge since. I know if something terrible was to happen (god forbid) I would rather die next to my man. (Is there a violin playing again?!!!!!!)

When I went down to the cabin and curled up next to my Patrick in my soaking wet attire and sop story, Patrick just laughed, called me a drama queen and asked me to go to sleep. He also told me off for coming to bed in wet clothes. Too old for wet dreams!!!!

The next day when I narrated the story to the crew at breakfast, Patrick laughed once again and mimicked playing a violin. Wicked man.

Day 2 of this passage and motion- sickness continued. Another session of projectile vomiting and yet again overboard on the leeward side. Old habits die hard. What was the crew briefing about at the start of the trip? No leaning over the side feeding the fish.

This was the turning point when I decided that I would start taking Dramamine - the tablet to cure motion sickness. So when Phil offered me one I gladly accpeted. Hallelujah! Why had I resisted this so far? 4 hours later I was fighting fit.

The winds kept getting stronger (to over 40 knots) and waves higher (to 5 metres), the motion sickness returned as the effects of the tablet started wearing off. I took another one before going to bed and had a good night's sleep in our cabin on a bed that was still wet from the previous night.

The tablets were miraculous! I had started taking 2 per day at breakfast and dinner. (Pill popper!!!!)

On day 3 Georges recommended a stop for a late lunch stop at some small islands that belonged to Venezuela, known as the "Islas Los Roques" (islands of the rocks) - we decide to stop at Cayo de Agua. This was deemed as a good suggestion by most of us except Patrick (as this would mean that we travelled into shallow waters where the wave height increased and the wind just got stronger). We all looked forward to a relaxed meal in a beautiful serene bay with magnificent views. We even caught a fish as we got closer. From a distance the islands looked enticing but as we got closer the birds started making lot more noise and led us into thinking that they wanted us to leave their home and go away. The wind got stronger. I was sitting upstairs with Patrick on the bridge under the effect of Dramamine (my friend), enjoying the colour of the beautiful water that looked like someone had dropped a bucket of indigo in it. There were thousands of white caps indicating the ocean getting rough eras we got closer.

The decision to stop here had been made in the middle of the night. Gorges had recommended this place but of course covered himself by saying that it was a recommendation only and the final decision would be Patrick's as skipper. The guide books had warned against approaching these islands both for the safety of the area naturally and politically. Patrick had given into pressure not just for Georges but also for me. It would be another 18 hours to Bonaire and even a short break would have been good for my spirits.

Within a nautical mile of reaching the shores of the island, the apparent wind hit 34 knots and the speed of the boat being 6-7 knots we were in a 40 knot area. Patrick was handling the boat manually and finding it hard to steer and just as we were about to make a decision to turnaround we heard a loud clunk. It was in the middle of the day and fortunately all the crew were on the deck in the anticipation of land. The wind generator on the starboard had just given in to the wind and almost fallen off the boat. Fortunately 3 pairs of strong hands - Colin, Phil & Georges held it to prevent it falling into the water. One of the supports for the wind generator had come adrift from it's support and pulled the 4 screws out from t the deck that took all the wind generators support away apart from the base. As a result with the strong winds also pulling against the main support of the wind generator, the generator and its pole headed towards the sea. This reflected some poor workmanship in Saint Maarten by our highly paid team who forgot to properly ensure that the wind generator supporting arm bolt went right through the support to its mounting.

Losing a brand new generator would not only have been expensive but also impacted on how much power we generated each day. The solar panels were good for the sunny days but the two wind generators did their job on windy days and at night.

After securing the generator temporarily Patrick wanted to head off to Bonaire without stopping here but was convinced by Colin and Georges to halt at the neighbouring island to strengthen the fix and to have a quick check of the engine bilges to see why the bilge alarm had been going off at odd occasions during the night.

We anchored near the shore to see a very scary looking island full of rocks and birds, no sand, no trees, clear water but no fish The break was anything but peaceful. After a quick bite the boys got to work looking at the two problems on hand. We had planned to have a quick refreshing dip there but the current was so strong that no one dipped in the water.

Within a couple of hours after doing the absolute minimum, we left this god forsaken place with a promise of never to return.

The moment we were outside the bay in deeper water things looked better and the navigation program indicated an early arrival in Bonaire that night making it a 2.5 day trip to do 430nm which was a good effort as we had only sailed with an average of one reef in the headsail for the whole trip. This soared our spirits once again. As per the original plan we should have reached here at day break the next day morning but despite an effort to slow down we were here at 2am. Patrick was at the helm and Nick still up to assist with mooring. But it seemed that we had run out of mooring buoys. We moved from one anchorage to another and finally ended up using what seemed like someone's private buoy in a water in just over two meters deep. It was a chance we had to take at that hour. I barely slept until the daybreak and was pleased to see the sunrise and a small town waking up on the port side just a splash or two away. We had woken up safe in Bonaire.

After breakfast when everyone was up we found another pair of mooring buoys in the proper anchorage just 400 metres away.

We were amongst a number of big and expensive yachts just 50 metres from The Yellow Submarine one of the local scuba shops which had it's own wharf that we used many times during our stay in this barren and dry island that is the home of the pink flamingo and the majority of the south of the island is devoted in the production of salt. They probably export cactus's as they are just everywhere. Even the fences are made of hundreds of catcus cut off's.

All of us had been looking forward to Bonaire in the ABC islands and it was going to be a few days of R&R and fun!

[copycatupholsteryflorida]

A Comprehensive Guide on How to Properly Store a Boat for Winter

Storing a boat for winter is a crucial aspect of boat ownership, as it helps protect your investment and ensures that your vessel remains in top condition for the next boating season. Winterizing a boat involves a series of steps that, when done correctly, safeguard the engine, hull, and various components from the harsh effects of cold temperatures, freezing water, and other winter-related hazards. In this comprehensive guide, we will walk you through the key steps and considerations for storing your boat safely during the winter months.

Clean and Prepare:

Before storing your boat, it's essential to give it a thorough cleaning. Remove any dirt, grime, or saltwater residue from the hull, deck, and other surfaces. Clean and wax the exterior to create a protective barrier against the elements. Ensure that the interior is also clean and dry, removing any perishable items or items that can be damaged by freezing temperatures.

Engine Winterization:

Properly winterizing the boat's engine is perhaps the most critical step in the winter storage process. This involves flushing the engine with fresh water to remove salt and debris, changing the oil and oil filter, and stabilizing the fuel system. Use a fuel stabilizer to prevent ethanol-based fuels from breaking down and causing engine damage. It's advisable to follow the manufacturer's guidelines for winterizing specific to your boat's engine type.

Protect the Battery:

Remove the boat's battery and store it in a cool, dry place. Clean the battery terminals and cables, applying a thin coat of petroleum jelly to prevent corrosion. Consider using a battery maintainer to keep the battery charged throughout the winter, ensuring it's ready for use when the boating season resumes.

Drain Water Systems:

To prevent water from freezing and causing damage, drain all water systems on the boat. This includes the fresh water tanks, plumbing lines, and the water heater. Use compressed air to blow out any remaining water from the systems, ensuring they are thoroughly dry.

Winterize Plumbing and Sanitation:

If your boat has onboard plumbing and sanitation systems, it's essential to winterize them properly. Pump antifreeze through the plumbing lines to prevent any residual water from freezing and causing damage. Empty and clean holding tanks, and add antifreeze to the toilet bowl to prevent freezing.

Protect the Hull and Exterior:

Invest in a quality boat cover to protect the hull and exterior from snow, ice, and UV rays. Make sure the cover is well-ventilated to prevent moisture buildup. If your boat is stored in the water, consider using a de-icing system to prevent ice damage.

Jack Stands and Supports:

When storing the boat on land, use sturdy jack stands to support the hull. Ensure that the boat is properly blocked and supported to distribute weight evenly and avoid any stress points. This helps prevent damage to the hull over the winter months.

Check and Secure the Trailer:

If your boat is on a trailer, inspect the trailer for any signs of wear or damage. Grease the wheel bearings, check the tire pressure, and make any necessary repairs. Secure the boat to the trailer to prevent movement during winter storms or high winds.

Pest Prevention:

To deter rodents and other pests, thoroughly clean the boat, removing any food items and sealing any potential entry points. Consider placing mothballs or other pest deterrents in strategic locations around the boat.

Documentation and Inventory:

Before storing your boat, document its condition with photos and make a detailed inventory of items onboard. This will be helpful for insurance purposes and as a reference when preparing the boat for the next boating season.

Conclusion:

Properly storing a boat for winter is a comprehensive process that involves attention to detail and adherence to manufacturer recommendations. Taking the time to winterize your boat ensures its longevity and reduces the risk of costly repairs in the spring. By following these guidelines and considering the specific needs of your boat, you can confidently tuck it away for the winter, knowing it will be ready for the water when the warmer weather returns.

Best Boat Upholstery in USA

[mahameruputra14]

Deck Drain Cast Iron Jembatan Jawa Tengah - Deck Drain Jembatan Jawa Tengah

Deck Drain Jembatan: Menjaga Jalan Bebas Genangan dan Aman Ketika kita berbicara tentang jembatan, keindahan desain dan kekuatan struktural seringkali menjadi fokus utama. Namun, ada aspek yang tak boleh diabaikan, yaitu Deck Drain Jembatan. Ini adalah sistem yang berperan penting dalam menjaga keamanan dan integritas jembatan dengan mengalirkan air hujan dan air permukaan secara efisien. Inilah…

[franklimarine]

Prepare your boat for the coming year.

Avast, mariners! As we say farewell to the old year and hello to the new one, boat preparation and maintenance get underway. Keeping your boat in good condition is essential whether you're just out for the weekend or you sail frequently. Put on your captain's hat and come along as we discuss boat maintenance and get ready for some exciting voyages. We offer complete service, from updated safety equipment to winter storage.

The Value of Regular Boat Maintenance

Regular upkeep is crucial for a boat's health and performance. It requires upkeep on a regular basis just like any other valuable possession. Skipping scheduled maintenance on your yacht can shorten its lifespan, increase the risk to passengers, and cost you money.

One primary goal of boat upkeep is to delay the onset of wear and tear. There will be rust, paint fading, and upholstery degradation if your yacht is exposed to the elements of the sea and the sun.

 Your boat can withstand these elements if you maintain a regular cleaning and protection schedule.

Regular inspections are essential for effective vessel maintenance. Preventing major problems that could leave you stranded on the ocean can be achieved by routine maintenance checks, such as those performed on the hull for cracks or leaks, engine components, and electrical systems.

Open-sea functionality is also enhanced by regular maintenance. Maintaining your engine and propeller on a regular basis will increase your speed, maneuverability, and fuel economy. This guarantees problem-free travel.

Taking care of your boat demonstrates your commitment to keeping everyone on board safe. Maintaining working life preservers, fire extinguishers, and navigational tools helps keep boaters safe.

Putting Away for the Season

Winterizing your yacht is an important consideration as the year winds down. Preventing damage and getting your boat ready for the spring season by storing it properly throughout the winter is essential.

You should begin winterizing your boat by giving it a good scrub down. Cleaning the exterior entails washing it down, emptying the trash, and wiping down all of the storage bins and cubbies. Get rid of any food and drink that will spoil quickly.

A suitable waterproof cover should be used after washing your boat. This will protect it from the damaging effects of snow, rain, and other precipitation.

Next, get the engine ready for an extended period of storage. Change the oil and gas filters, add fuel stabilizer, and fog the engine to keep the tank from collecting condensation.

To avoid damage from freezing, remember to drain plumbing systems, remove batteries, and power down electronics.

If your house is too small, you should probably look into renting a storage unit. Storing items indoors protects them against the elements and acts of vandalism or theft.

By giving your boat the TLC it needs before putting it away for the winter, you may increase its lifespan and be ready for another fun season on the water.

Care and Maintenance Advice

Cleaning and detailing are essential parts of yacht upkeep. It improves the longevity and overall look of your boat. For help getting started, read on.

Start by washing the boat's outside. Dirt and grime can be washed away with a mild detergent and water solution. Pay special attention to the hull and deck, two areas prone to accumulation.

Enter the ship's cabin. Clean surfaces and vacuum upholstered furniture carefully. Keep out-of-sight storage areas and drink holders in mind.

Maintain the shine of your boat by waxing or polishing it after each washing. UV rays won't be able to fade or dull the material.

When detailing, don't overlook the insignificant little things. Clear views of the water from spotless inside and outdoor windows. Shine up metal components with polish.

Lubricate moving parts, inspect for leaks, and double-check all electrical connections frequently.

Keeping up with these cleaning and detailing tips throughout the year will ensure that your boat always looks and performs its best.

Inspecting and Replacing Wearing Components

Keep your boat in top shape by inspecting and replacing wearing components as needed. Before the new year begins, make sure you've checked all of your ship's essential components.

Check out the inner workings of the engine. Wear and degeneration manifest as leaks and loose connections. To prevent problems while out on the water, you should replace any worn belts, hoses, or filters.

Next, let's have a peek at the wiring. Remove any rust from the battery terminals if necessary. Make that the lights and switches are working properly. Garmin marine electronics Auckland can be purchased in Auckland and installed on your boat for improved navigation.

Put on your protective gear! Make that all emergency equipment, such as life vests, fire extinguishers, and flares, is in good working order. Substitute out anything that has lost its effectiveness due to age or use.

Propellers and steering systems are examples of something little but vital. Look for any signs of damage or wear that could reduce functionality. Repair any broken blades and oil the controls right away.

It's possible to lessen the dangers of boating if you inspect and replace worn or broken components right now. Preventative maintenance is the key to floating safely.

Refreshing Security Measures

Make sure your boat has up-to-date safety features so you may sail without fear. At the beginning of each year, it is important to inspect and upgrade all safety equipment.

Make sure everyone has a personal flotation device (PFD) on board. Substitute broken or worn items. Always make sure that everyone on board is wearing a properly adjusted life jacket.

Look over the fire suppression equipment. Verify that they are still valid and at what price. In the event of a shipfire, you'll need to know how to employ them effectively.

Take note of distress signals, such as flares. They should be readily available and up-to-date. Investing in electronic distress signals can reduce the time it takes for help to arrive in an emergency.

Charts, compasses, and GPS systems like those sold by Garmin marine electronics in Auckland are essential pieces of navigational gear. Verify their precision and functionality before setting sail.

Check the radios, satellite phones, and other forms of communication equipment, as well as the first aid kit, bilge pumps, anchor lines, and ropes.

Make sure your boat is equipped with the latest safety gear. Taking these steps at the beginning of the year will give you peace of mind knowing you are prepared for whatever lies ahead.

Preparing for Future Travel and Exciting Events

Now that you've given your electronics boat its annual checkup, you can start thinking about some interesting vacations for the New Year. Whether you're a seasoned sailor or just starting out on the open seas, a successful voyage demands careful preparation.

It is important where you go. Do you wish to go on an adventure on the open sea or sail along the stunning coastline of Auckland? Learn if any permissions or regulations are needed to travel a specific route.

The length of the trip is the next factor to think about. How much of a trip time are we talking about? Don't forget to stock up on necessities like petrol, food, and safety equipment.

Do a quick weather check before you head out. If you know what to expect on the water, you can better deal with the unexpected when it happens.

Before going boating with friends or family, make sure they know the rules and how to stay safe. Basic equipment and emergency procedures must be understood by all personnel.

Include everything that has to be done before you go. You can check for Corrosion testing on vital components like battery terminals, restock supplies from previous trips, test communication devices like Garmin marine electronics, and control electrical functions like lighting and climate.

Planning boat trips and expeditions with safety in mind (including routine maintenance checks) will help you have memorable experiences while minimizing risks associated with being on the water. Be open to fresh perspectives, then!

Conclusion

Maintenance is key to a boat's performance and lifespan. You can hit the water running this boating season if you take the time to get your vessel ready for the new year.

You should clean and detail your yacht before putting it away for the winter. This will keep it from rusting and breaking during the off season. If any vital components are broken or worn, replace them immediately.

Don't go on vacation or on an adventure without first updating your safety gear. In Auckland, it is important to maintain safety gear such as fire extinguishers, life vests, and navigational electronics such as Garmin.

Preparation is the key to a successful trip or outing. Discover new locations, organize your trip, and secure necessary authorizations. Better boating conditions are the result of meticulous planning.

Sailing will be more enjoyable and your boat will last longer if you follow these instructions and give it routine maintenance all year long. Get started right away, get your hands dirty, and take care of your cherished boat!

[tugboatforrent]

Cruiser Towing Tips

push boat for sale

Charter boat Towing Carrier or even Broker?

There are many sail boat towing companies whoever main business may be the smaller loads, and even large power ships, but if you have massive boat, it requires distinctive loading and working with. First, ask once they are the ones that happen to be going to transport a boat, or assuming they are just a broker. 2nd, ask if the person they intend to pack your boat offers experience with your style of load. Ask numerous specific questions too: how they intend to stress your boat, could it require any extraordinary equipment, will the stress require any specialized permits. If they can't answer these problems easily and expertly, chances are they are whether broker or not familiar with your type of download.

push boat for sale

Pick a Reputable Sail boat Towing Company

Experienced boat towing organizations are expensive because they undertake their job appropriate. They require the proper devices; they hire knowledgeable drivers and loaders, which command reduced price. Don't chance with your boat want . boat towing business has insurance possibly, anyone who has been around fishing boats long enough realizes that repairing injury is not quite a similar thing with a boat like with other vehicles.

Tactics to Prepare Your Boat to get Towing

Stow just about all loose gear together with secure. Make certain that most loose items within your vessel such as dishes, galley utensils, your own items or every other non-secured have been properly secured or removed from that vessel. Drain resource and water tanks. There should not be almost any water in the bilge while it is being transferred. During winter months, h2o should be drained coming from water systems, pushes, air conditioners, etc . Detachment all battery cables and wires. Remove any piece of equipment or fixture this extends beyond this hull of the motorboat such as antennas, radar, compasses or range sounders. These devices ought to be secured inside the cruiser for towing. Clear away anchors from the pack. Dry out wooden yachts. A coat with linseed oil can assist. Remove canvas protects. Covers must be taken away as they will rip or fly out of during transit. Look cradles. If your charter boat has its own holds, inspect it diligently for loose products or weakness involving any kind. Dinghies. Never leave dinghy concerning davits, these items has to be well padded. Outward accessories. All gadgets, radar, hailers, horns, antennas, propellers, the flag masts, lights, core lights, etc . will have to be removed and strongly stored below. Hatches. Tie and/or mp3 hatches from the outside the house. If the hatches flow, seal them. Your boat will not sit down in the same spot on the carrier's trailer home as it does within the water and the service cannot be responsible for precipitation water entering via a leaky hatch or simply deck. Windows and windshields. Cabin your windows program should be latched and additionally taped from the out in the open. All windshields and/or Plexiglas that protrude over the flying conduit should be removed, loaded with a cargo quilt and should be effectively secured below. Winterization. If you are towing a person's boat during the wintertime, then you need to winterize the engine, lavatories, the water systems and any other weather private device on the charter boat. Shrink wrap is the perfect way to protect ones boat during towing. However , a poor get smaller wrap may dissect due to the high years generated by route travel. If this happens, your vessel could endure damage from the decrease wrap beating, chaffing and scratching a vessel. Boat towing companies will not acknowledge responsibility for harm caused by shrink aply.

[vampirewalterskinner]

They killed her. A human. Simply because she had found her way into his arms.

In a way, this was his fault, wasn’t it?

The memories of that night and the questions that raised from them circled through his mind until he numbed himself with an old, dangerous crutch.

Content Warning: descriptions of gore, unhealthy sexual themes, and alcoholism

Alcohol was a terrifying mistress.

He had forgotten how much he enjoyed the burn in his esophagus. The weight that blanketed over his body and turned him sluggish was also oddly comforting. The heightened temper was an added bonus. He wasn’t himself when he was drunk. At least, not the person he allowed himself to be when he was sober.

Sober Walter would never have covered up a murder.

Except he had.

Walter shifted in his seat as his guts quivered at the memory. A fisherman always carried various tools on his boat. Hooks. Knives. Hell, he even had an axe for emergencies. But he had always seen them as tools, nothing more. Now they were weapons. Ominous and gleaming sharp metal used to slice skin and shatter bone as he broke her body down piece by piece. Pausing only to watch with muted horror as Dana and Fox feasted on her flesh and licked blood from the stained deck. Despite desecrating her body, Walter did the best he could to discard her parts overboard. She had already been slaughtered. He didn’t want to disgrace her further by letting her be a meal for two cruel creatures. When the deed was done he felt something switch inside him. His brown eyes dulled and darkened as his features drained of all emotion. He shut down. To keep himself in that state, he drank.

Walter looked down at himself. He was still wearing her blood. The thinner layers had dried into black, flakey splatters. The thicker mess was still ruby red and wet, dripping from his fingertips. He swallowed another mouthful of whiskey.

Skrrrrrshhhhh

Walter’s brow furrowed. Scales dragging across wood. They had left him alone when he started drinking, unfamiliar with the dark mood he suddenly bore. Which one of them had decided to investigate? Walter fixed a heated glare on the mermaid as it came around the corner.

Fox.

That strange, metalic click echoed in his throat as he smiled, flashing two rows of sharp fangs in an unpleasant grimace. There were still chunks of flesh stuck between them. The ocean had washed away the blood. Fox had returned to his pretty, harmless self. Walter didn’t buy it. Not anymore.

Fox dragged himself closer, clicking and purring for attention while batting his eyelashes. He was naked again. Chest bare and tail slithering behind him. Gorgeous and horrendous.

“Wal…ter.” Fox struggled with his tongue to form the syllables, as if the muscle were too long to control. Too inhuman to speak. “Mad?”

Walter tightened his fingers on the glass. “No. Angry.”

Fox shifted closer, his body posed between Walter’s thick legs. Walter twitched when claws traced along his shin. Webbed hands stroked coarse leg hairs. Another vile smile. “Why?”

Walter bared his teeth. “You killed someone.”

Fox laid his cheek on Walter’s knee and wound his arms around his leg, hugging him. “Tou…ched wha…was…mine.”

His?

He was theirs?

Was he just some kind of toy to them? A pet? A servant? And for that a woman was killed. Was this going to be his life from now on? Alone, save for two bloodthirsty monsters. Alone, unless he wanted to be responsible for the loss of innocent lives.

Walter was more than angry.

He was lonely and betrayed.

He wanted revenge.

Thick fingers carded through silky brown hair, mating the locks with globs of blood. Fox purred, the sound filling Walter with anxiety and excitement, and leaned into the touch. He snatched wavy locks and yanked, enjoying the loud hiss Fox released as he was pulled closer. Claws scratched his calves as Walter pushed the merman’s face into his crotch. Fox went still.

“If you’re gonna isolate me and keep me like a damn toy, then you’re gonna tend to all my needs, boy,” Walter growled.

He felt sick from his own words. His sober self was screaming to take it back, to return to the way things were, but they couldn’t. That little dream he had of a pleasant happy ever after with two mermaids vanished the moment they slaughtered that woman. Fox didn’t seem to feel the same loss he did. Instead, the merman grinned, and it was the closest it had ever come to looking like a human smile. Fox didn’t bother to speak after that. Instead, he slid closer and opened his mouth, unfurling a wickedly long tongue dripping with a glowing ooze. The muscle taunted him, coiling and twisting in a silent invitation, offering the very thing Walter demanded. He should have thought it through. Should have closed Fox’s mouth and gone to bed. Instead, he hooked his thumb on the band of his shorts and grabbed Fox’s jaw in a tight grip, smearing blood on his sweet face as he forced him closer.

There was no elegance in either of their movements—and there wasn’t meant to be.

This wasn’t the loved Walter craved.

It was hatred, pure and simple.

The X Files AU where Skinner is a fisherman. He basically lives on the water. He’s seen all sorts of things in his life and, sure, he could try to explain the more odd and frankly freakish things, but he prefers not to. He would rather ignore it. He finds it a bit hard to brush off the strangely cursed waters when he pulls in his net for the day and finds two mermaids caught up in his trap, ensnared and terrified. He’s careful to cut them out but it takes time to soothe their wild thrashing—and the red head was rather bitey. The net had caused more damage than he thought: torn fins and cuts and rope burns throughout their bodies. The brunette was worse off. Walter couldn’t in good conscience release them without patching them up. Even if it would cost him a few fingers to do so. Convincing them that he was a friend was hard to do but easily accomplished when he found he could buy them with fish, earning enough trust to hear their names: Dana and Fox.

[kareenvorbarra]

as ever, in over my head | a Fjord fanmix 

“I don’t want to bring things from my old life into this one.”

[listen]

✦ Come All You Sailors The Wailin’ Jennys  ✦ Rox In The Box The Decemberists  ✦ Bilgewater Brown Bird  ✦ Vessel Pearl and the Beard  ✦ When In Rome Nickel Creek  ✦ Palace Dessa  ✦ Meet Me In The Woods Lord Huron  ✦ Notos The Oh Hellos  ✦ Pearl Diver Mitski  ✦ Dark Road Sarah Jarosz  ✦ The Weight of Living, Pt. I Bastille  ✦ Soap The Oh Hellos  ✦ Speak Loud Trills  ✦ Pull Me Under Bruce Peninsula  ✦ ocean flor  ✦ New River The Oh Hellos  ✦ Wildflowers The Wailin’ Jennys

Lyrics:

Come All You Sailors - The Wailin’ Jennys

Come all you seekers Realize that you can see Find within your deepest longing That all you need is me

Rox In The Box - The Decemberists

And it's one, two, three On the wrong side of the lee What were you meant for? Whatever you're meant for

Bilgewater - Brown Bird

When every day is like a war You find no strength from your usual source There’s no peace, there’s no rest Your fortitude’s feeling put to the test

Vessel - Pearl and the Beard

Drain my gut Spill it out onto the deck Burn their hands Sure as hell has burned my own I am alone now

When In Rome - Nickel Creek

Where can a dead man go? A question with an answer only dead men know But I'm gonna bet they never really feel at home It they spent a lifetime learning how to live in Rome

Palace - Dessa

That trouble you’ve been looking for It came looking for you Shouldn't open doors You don’t plan to walk through If I were you I’d pay my dues

Meet Me In The Woods - Lord Huron

There ain't language for the things I've seen And the truth is stranger than my own worst dreams The truth is stranger than all my dreams Oh, the darkness got a hold on me

Notos - The Oh Hellos

And the rush will take you away Like you're caught in the undertow And you will drown in the wake Of the things you said that you can't take back, no

Pearl Diver - Mitski

Those creatures of your woken mind Don't fear them or their hunger Forgive the sea, follow the tide With the monsters on your shoulder

Dark Road - Sarah Jarosz

And the darkness covers you sometimes And the road is long but it always unwinds And I find if you take your time You will make it fine

Weight of Living, Pt. I - Bastille

There's an albatross around your neck All the things you've said And the things you've done Can you carry it with no regrets? Can you stand the person you've become?

Soap - The Oh Hellos

I think that you’re worth keeping around I think you’re worth holding onto

Speak Loud - Trills

What a waste for you to be pulled under the water What a shame What a waste for you to be pulled under the water What a shame you can't hear me I speak louder

Pull Me Under - Bruce Peninsula

All that flees is fair, all that leaves forgiven All that, all that, I can't keep it All that stays will suffer Left alive but breathing underwater Can't keep my head above the water

ocean - flor

And if you asked me If I bit off a little bit More than I could chew I wouldn't lie to you But I can't let you through

New River - The Oh Hellos

I know the winds from the south Have the waves riled up like a hungry mouth And your stomach goes hollow At the thought that it could swallow you whole Well it'll rain for forty days and nights And nothing you do can slow the rising tides But the river takes her shape from every tempest she abides And like her, you'll be made new again

Wildflowers - The Wailin’ Jennys

You belong among the wildflowers You belong on a boat out at sea Sail away, kill off the hours You belong somewhere you feel free

[edandstede]

no ocean between us - a season 2 instrumental soundtrack

tracklist + context/inspo behind each song below (under the cut) so you can see the picture i’m trying to paint with this short playlist - and yes, it’s intended to be listened to in order! i put so much love into this so i hope you listen and can maybe imagine the scenes i’ve written!

1) longing to see you… - david clavijo | ed and stede are still separated at this point, with nighttime shots of them from their respective boats, unaware that they’re both looking out at the same sea as the distance between them closes. jim and olu and lucius and pete do the same.

2) when the grass was greener - nino rota, alice sara ott | there is some conflict for stede’s small broken-up crew, and as they fight, there are flashbacks to when ed gave stede swordfighting lessons, making present stede more determined.

3) the chain - one piano (fleetwood mac cover) | izzy spots stede and the crew on the horizon through a spyglass, informing ed who stands with one hand braced on the ship’s railing, an unreadable expression on his face and the wind whipping his hair wildly. from his other hand, a bottle of rum falls to the deck and smashes.

4) underwater - ludovico einaudi | stede and his small group fight their way onto the revenge. it’s chaos, the deck seemingly filled with people now - including lucius, who appears as if a ghost and makes to charge at ed, but is held back by pete. izzy is barking at him to arm himself to “kill the fuckers, end this now” but ed can’t hear him, can’t focus on his new crew as they clash with the old. he seeks out stede amongst the umpteen heads and when their eyes meet, stede’s earnest and wide, ed’s own harden and he suddenly raises a gloved hand and demands an end. everything stops all at once. then stede says one word on a shuddering breath: “ed.”

5) home sweet home - pieter de graaf | ed agrees to talk in private in the captain’s quarters that stede’s sure are no longer his. stede trails his fingers over the door regardless, momentarily reminded of the door back in barbados but clearly glad to be home on the revenge now. they step in. it takes stede a moment once he’s fully in the room, turning on the spot, before the light and smile drain from his face and he realises it is a shell of its former glory (0:55 of the song) and his things are seemingly all gone. there’s a moment of melancholy, a lingering look between the pair. ed orders him to talk, so stede talks, and can’t seem to stop talking once he does, seated on the bed with his hands nervously on his knees. ed’s reaction appears mostly guarded with little flickers of emotion, but he wordlessly crosses to the small bust and opens the entrance to the auxiliary wardrobe. (1:26 of the song) it’s all there. he kept it. revealing it is the beginning of accepting an olive branch. stede stands before it and his chest slowly puffs out, and he looks at ed with a renewed smile. ed returns it.

6) sure on this shining night - samuel barber, sheku kanneh-mason, isata kanneh-mason | a montage of tenderness between our three revenge couples - ed and stede, jim and olu, pete and lucius - as they spend some time alone again. first, pete and lucius share a kiss and close conversation, some laughter, before lucius sits back and begins a fresh sketch of his lover. next, olu takes jim’s hat and pops it onto his own head with a smile, and jim moves in closer, shaking their head and leaning up to kiss him.

ed and stede’s scenes are just as loaded on intimacy, but a different kind of closeness. first, ed removes himself from a bath and finishes the personal ritual by finally washing his face of his own volition. when he steps out to greet stede after, wrapped in stede’s thick golden robe, stede’s smile is impossibly bright. he does however lift a hand to ed’s jaw, tracing the stubble, and says, “how do we feel about this?” ed shrugs, hands clasped. “it’s fucking annoying.” after that, stede learns the extra patience and care it takes to shave someone else at sea rather than himself. it’s made more bearable with familiar lavender soap.

7) gnossienne no. 5 - lavinia meijer (erik satie cover) | stede has one last surprise of his own when he reveals a small piece of red silk, much to ed’s wide and disbelieving stare. “i believe this may have been misplaced. fine things should stay together,” stede says, kindly avoiding the truth of it as he places it into ed’s palm, and ed is hit all at once with why he fell in love in the first place. it’s the night on the deck again, after the party, only this time stede is deliberate in his words - and in his actions. because stede kisses him then, both their hands still holding the silk tight, and maybe stede is right. fine things should stay together. they should.

8) amour - jean-michel blais | stede wakes up in his own quarters, a vibrant dawn beyond the large windows framing his bed, and he sighs contently. there’s a snore, and it is revealed to be ed who sleeps against his chest as stede looks down at him fondly. soon after, they share a breakfast of tea and marmalade together, brought in by roach at stede’s apparent request. ed marvels - he hadn’t known where either had come from, as he was sure all traces of both were gone. as ed sits up in bed with a yawn, stede asks if he remembers the first time they did this, sat up high on the ship, and ed asks how he could ever forget. after a prolonged, sweet gaze, they clink their teacups gently together and both murmur a fond, “cheers.”

9) satie variation - erik satie, esther abrami, iyad sughayer | it’s nighttime on deck, and ed and stede both come to relieve buttons from the helm, who says “goodnight, cap’ns” to them both. olivia flies down to rest on his shoulder, stede saying a gentle and thrilled hello to her, and they take their leave. then ed and stede take their joint place at the wheel, ed’s arm around stede’s waist, and they share a smile. the wind blows around them gently, through their hair and the loose shirts they both wear, and in a blue-lit scene like the one after the party, their silhouettes share a kiss with the moon and stars as a backdrop. beyond them, the crew sleep comfortably amongst each other on the deck, a family back together again.

10) portside - wide eyed | a lingering view of the revenge as she sails to new adventures, fresh flags made by the crew hoisted high with one in particular right at the top, representing ed and stede - it’s blackbeard’s flag, but another figure stands with him, holding out a heart of his own for him to take.