#castelhanos

[inky-curves]

Black Canary by Emanuela Lupacchino, colors by John Castelhano

[sidonius5]

𝒯𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓁𝑜𝑜𝓀 𝑜𝒻 𝒸𝑜𝓃𝒻𝓊𝓈𝒾𝑜𝓃 😂...

[turismomundoafora]

Neste artigo, vamos revelar as 5 melhores praias de Ilhabela para você visitar. Ilhabela é um dos destinos turísticos mais populares do litoral brasileiro de São Paulo.

Com mais de 40 praias, a ilha oferece uma variedade de opções para todos os gostos, desde praias agitadas e urbanas até praias selvagens e preservadas.

[llorentezete]

Holy Date — Joaquín Piquerez

aonde você precisava de um namorado de feriado!

obs: dei nome a personagem porque me sinto melhor assim, mas por favor, imaginem o nome que quiserem.

24/12/2021 — São Paulo, Brasil.

— Isso vai dar uma grande merda. — Eu havia previsto e de fato aconteceu.

Era véspera de Natal e meus parentes já estavam reunidos na mesa para a ceia. Menos eu, é claro. E tudo isso, porque meu namorado estava atrasado para o jantar. Novamente eu praguejei irritada quando tirei o telefone do ouvido, escutando apenas a voz da caixa postal de fundo. Era a quinta ligação seguida e ele simplesmente não dava um sinal de vida.

Estava quase recorrendo ao Scarpa quando os faróis do carro reduziram no meu rosto. Ele estacionou de qualquer jeito e pulou do carro, correndo em minha direção. Ele sabia do atraso, e eu não mediria esforços pra jogar isso na cara dele quantas vezes fosse preciso.  Piquerez usava uma camiseta social branca e uma calça preta em um tecido que eu não conseguia distinguir na falta de luz da rua. Seu cabelo ainda estava con algumas luzes que ele havia feito em homenagem ao título brasileiro, sua barba impecável como sempre, e pude ver sua correntinha de cruz devido aos dois primeiros botões da camisa estarem abertos. Joaquín era de fato um homem e tanto. Eu não sabia quanto tempo aquela merda duraria, mas eu estava com dificuldades para raciocinar ao lado dele.

— Você tá atrasado! — Foi a primeira coisa que eu disse quando ele enfim chegou até mim.

— Eu sei, eu sei... — Murmurou algumas coisas em castelhano. —, meu pai me enrolou no telefone. — Quem conhecia o uruguaio sabia quanto o pai era importante pra ele. Por isso, eu não questionei acerca.

— Só melhora essa cara, todos os meus parentes estão lá, pode ser?

— Sim, claro. — Eu suspirei logo após ele.

— Porque não ensaiamos algumas coisas antes de ir? — Perguntei receosa.

— Luísa, vai dar tudo certo, só respira fundo. — Joaco tentou me acalmar, mas a verdade era que eu estava prestes a colapsar.

— Se algo der errado e descobrirem sobre nós, eu não sei o que fazer, Piquerez.

— O que pode dar errado em um namoro falso? — Seu sorriso descontraído me deixou desnorteada por alguns segundos. Eu empurrei ele de leve, tentando segurar a risada, logo depois, sentindo sua mão gelada se prender a minha, fazendo um calafrio percorrer o meu braço inteiro com o seu contato. Mas ele nunca saberia disso.

[...]

27/12/2021 — São Paulo, Brasil

Era o pior fim de ano que alguém poderia esperar. A chuva estragou nosso plano de ver a queima de fogos na praia. Por um lado, eu agradeci a Deus, por outro, eu sentia falta do calor chamado Piquerez. Tudo ficou estranho entre nós naquela virada de Natal. Exatamente a meia noite todos se abraçaram, levando nós dois a demonstrarmos nosso afeito em público, o que não foi nada confortável, com tantos olhos curiosos e julgadores esperando um beijo sair de nós, não tivemos tempo de ensaiar ou pensar. Foi um beijo esquisito, mas o bastante para alugar um triplex na minha cabeça. O jeito como ele me segurou e pousou sua mão sobre o meu rosto, por um segundo eu acreditei que éramos um casa de verdade. O que, não ironicamente, era mentira.

Não éramos um casal e estamos longe de ser um. Piquerez precisava de alguém para calar a mídia no fim do ano, e eu precisa de um homem que estivesse disposto a calar o meu ex namorado idiota. Joaquín foi premiado graças ao Scapinha, que juntou o útil con o agradável e me batizou como namorada de feriado. Ensaiamos muitas coisas um sobre o outro, caso houvesse algum questionamento, também inventamos como nos conhecemos no Allianz Parque, o que tornou tudo mais fanfic do que nunca. Mas na real, como nos conheceram era a última coiswas que perguntavam.

— Você vai pra o Uruguai? — Perguntei despretensiosamente quando ele voltou do quarto. A sala estava escura devido a janela estar sempre fechada por causa da chuva.

— Provavelmente...— Depois disso não dissemos mais nada. Era claro que alguém queria falar, mas não éramos um casal de verdade, ninguém sabia como fazer na prática. —, você não deveria vir comigo?

— O que? — Argumentei no susto.

— Como minha "namorada"... — Ele fez aspas. Era estranho vê-lo pronunciar aquela palavra.

— Ah, não sei... — Observei ele se sentar do meu lado no sofá. — Uruguai parece tão distante e eu não falo sobre espaço físico.

— Acho que te entendi, mas meu pai vai querer conhecer minha namorada — E pela segunda vez ele pronunciou aquilo como se fosse verdade.

— Acha que seu pai vai desconfiar de cara? — Perguntei tentando me acalmar.

— Não se agirmos naturalmente, igual no Natal, na sua casa... — Ele falaria daquilo. Morda, ele realmente queria falar daquilo.

— Seja mais específico! — Eu queria aquela palavra.

— Você sabe, falo sobre nosso... beijo... — Joaco pareceu gaguejar. Ele fazia às vezes, quando ficava nervoso com alguma coisa. Em geral, ele era um pouco tímido por natureza, mas agora, ele se quer olhou nos meus olhos enquanto falava.

— Não foi intencional — Eu logo tratei de dar una resposta a ele. Não pareceu a certa, já que dessa vez ele me encarou com um pesar nos olhos castanhos, os quais eu amava espionar quando ele estava distraído. —, não é?

— É, foi sim. — Sua reposta michuruca foi o bastante pra aquele dia.

30/12/2021 — Punta del Este, Uruguai

Fechei meus olhos  assim que saímos do aeroporto, a luz do sol era forte o suficiente pra arder as pupilas. Piquerez parecia acostumado, ele sorriu me puxando para a sombra. Viemos o vôo todo calados. Não era de se esperar, nossa última conversa não foi nada agradável. Anda sim, tive que sentir suas mãos pressionarem minhas costas quando estavamos na rua, fugindo das câmeras, ou quando entramos no avião e ele entrelaçou nossos dedos por livre e espontânea vontade, como se tivéssemos que provar aos comissários que nosso namoro era real.

Eu podia vê-lo estalando as articulaç��es distante de mim, estava nervoso e calado. Eu odiava estar com ele calado, tinha saudade da sua voz e do seu sotaque que me fazia imagina–lo dizendo tantas palavras erradas, só pra ter o gosto de escutar. Toda essa tenção palpável nas vezes que nossos olhos se cruzavam, iam resultar em algo, uma hora ou outra.

— Está calor aqui — Ele se virou pra mim. Eu andava atrás dele, buscando sua sombra devido a diferença de altura. —, quer beber água no quiosque da frente?

— Sim, por favor. — Observei ele estender a mão para que eu o seguisse. Fiz sem pestanejar.

— Dos botellas de agua, por favor. — O maldito castelhano. Meu maior ponto fraco com ele. O jeito como sua voz soava quando falava sua língua natal, era difícil de explicar a sensação. Ele me encarou quando entregou a garrafa. Madre de Dios.

Ele era tão lindo, que eu estava começando a duvidar se a mídia e as pessoas realmente acreditavam no nosso namoro. Será que ele realmente teria coragem de ficar com alguém como eu? Enquanto ele usava uma de suas camisetas brancas sobre uma regata também branca e shorts jeans, eu podia ver, pela transparência da roupa, sua correntinha brilhando. Era seu ponto sexy.

— Que foi? — Ele sorriu com desdém. Talvez tenha começado a entrar no jogo.

— Apenas olhando — Dei um gole generoso na água.

— Vamos, temos que chegar logo em casa, vou pedir um uber — Eu levantei o seguindo novamente. Ele pediu o carro enquanto eu ainda o observava discretamente. Me sentia errada por  desejando ver mais do que sua regata me permitia. E quando o carro chegou, ele se sentou no banco de trás comigo. Sua mão pousada na minha perna, despretensiosamente perigosa demais. Prendi a respiração quando ele começou a movê-la apenas para os lados, como um carinho desajeitado. Pude observá-lo um pouco tenso, com a mão um pouco dura demais e talvez, apenas talvez, eu devesse tentar amenizar aquilo.

Levei minha mão sobre a dele, dizendo que estava ali. Joaco me encarou com um fio de espanto, como se não esperasse meu gesto recíproco. Ele deu um sorrisinho tímido que despertou algo maior dentro de mim. Uma chavinha foi virada e eu tive a certeza de que aquilo ia dar muita merda.

A casa era tão simples mas ao mesmo tempo moderna e aconchegante. Os pais e a irmã de Piquerez me trataram tão gentilmente, que por um segundo minha consciência pesou pela mentira contada. Joaquín ainda estava nervoso, vez ou outra brincava com meus dedos, pra disfarçar o medo de ser pego. Quando automaticamente ele me chamou de cariño, foi a minha vez de não conseguir disfarçar a sensação que teimava em subir ao meu estômago. Era esmagador, quase que uma náusea, era incontrolável.

No meu vestido vermelho com uma fenda do começo da coxa até o pés, eu ainda sentia calor. Joaco estava tão lindo e até mais confortável na última noite do ano. Faltava minutos para o ano novo e eu já tinha sido apresentada para todos os seus amigos e familiares. Palavras como amor, cariño, corazón, já eram usadas com mais frequência entre nós. Estávamos à vontade mesmo com tanta gente podendo descobrir a verdade a qualquer segundo.

No minuto antes da meia noite, senti o tranco de mãos fortes na minha cintura, e a respiração sufocante no meu ouvido. Mas não precisei meu virar pra saber que era ele. Apenas decidi esquecer do acordo, e me confortei em seus braços por algum tempo. Não sei se ele fez de propósito, ou porque todos os outros casais estavam juntos pra celebrar a virada. Talvez eu tivesse mais certeza quando ouvi um dos primeiros fogos, anunciando primeiro de janeiro e as mesmas mãos me virando de encontro a ele.

Joaquín me encarou como se buscasse algum vestígio de arrependimento no meu rosto. E claro, ele não encontrou. Então levou uma de suas mãos até meu rosto, onde memórias do Natal me acertaram em cheio e ele percebeu. Seus olhos pareceram entender o que havia causado em mim.

— Lembra do que eu disse sobre sermos naturais? — Ele perguntou um pouco alto por causa dos rojões. Eu assenti.

— Eu quero, Joaquín. — Como da outra vez, tratei de dar a ele logo a reposta.

— Seja mais específica! — Ele disse sorrindo por me imitar. Eu prendi os lábios contraindo a vontade de sorrir largo. Ele não ganharia o meu jogo.

— Eu quero que me beije. — Foi a deixa perfeita para seus olhos ganharem um brilho diferente e ele se aproximar apenas para testar minha paciência. Sua barba rala e seu bigode roçando no meu rosto me fez perder a sanidade. Aquilo seria mais do que um beijo. E quando seus lábios macios tocaram os meus, se misturando ao gosto de champanhe doce, eu tive total certeza do que nos esperaria mais tarde.

☝🏼🫦

[ficjoelispunk]

Ch 06 - Two rabbits. One shot.

Continuation, you can find it here

<< Previous Chapter | Next Chapter >>

Author's Note: like always, I'm sorry for any grammatical errors, don't give up on me, translating is not easy, but I did my best. Correct me as much as you can. Thanks.

You finally had a decent night's sleep. It was even ridiculous the way your body succumbed after the treatment Javier gave you.

Understanding the Javier Peña effect. He was definitely someone remarkable. The body drawn, muscular, the shoulders outlined, biceps and chest. Large and firm hands. The hair. The face. The smell. The kiss. The sex. You would have sexual memories for a long time, which gave you goosebumps and excited you only with the memory, the tone of voice speaking in your ear, the feeling of Javier's cock filling you like no one had ever filled, the sounds he made as he sank into you.

Jesus. The effect he caused was immoral. You understood your victims. The supplications and the search for an extra moment with him.

Now you didn't know how to proceed. How should you act? Pretend that nothing happened, like before? Let it be something that you deal with only between the four walls of the file room? Was it casual? Starting from Javier Peña's history, it was possible that he would never look at you again.

Unfortunately you work with him in the same sector, in the same room, and he needs you. What made you think about how desperate he should be.

But on the other hand, you also remembered the things he told you while you were overwhelmed by desire and horniness. Including the fact that he wanted you from the first day he saw you, according to his words. But that doesn't mean it's romantically, it could just be another achievement. Which you made it difficult for him for 3 long years.

You needed to go to the pharmacy before starting your day, buy a morning-after pill.

You didn't know how to get around in Medellin, but you knew the basics. Market, pharmacy, and the restaurants you liked. It was the essential.

So you parked a few meters before the usual pharmacy you used to go to. You got out of the car, walked to cross the street, when a black car threw itself in front of you out of nowhere.

You stopped, taking a few steps back, watching without understanding. Two armed men got out of the vehicle coming towards you, you began to have a bad feeling and tried to run but they reached you and held you.

"No, no," you said, "let me go, let me go, get way from me" you started screaming.

But you were in Medellin, and of course no one stopped to help you.

The two men lift you off the ground with ease. You were struggling in the air.

"Cálmate” one of them said.

While they put a bag over his head.

"Tranquilo, tranquilo" another repeated.

You were taken by fear when you were already sitting in the back seat of the vehicle in the middle of these two men.

Your Spanish was terrible, and they spoke Castelhano too, so you didn't understand almost anything.

You were desperate. Why were they taking you? Did they want information? You were just the assistant, it didn't make any sense... Tears flowed over his muffled face under the bag.

You were lost, taken by the feeling that from that point on, surviving was your only choice.

***

It was almost 9 a.m. and Javier hadn't seen you yet. What was bizarre, since at 6:30 a.m. you were already hammering your fingers into the typewriters.

Strangely, he was anxious to meet you. And to know how you would behave after last night. But without seeing you there, the nerves of his face began to pull.

Javier is sure that you have never been late for anything in your life.

"Are you at least listening to what I'm talking about?" Murphy questioned Javier realizing that he was out of focus.

"Yes," Javier replied without looking at him.

"What's going on?" Murphy asks his colleague, sitting at his desk in front of Javier.

He doesn't answer at first. Still staring at your table.

Murphy follows Javier's gaze, and understands.

"Maybe she went to some meeting, or went to Bogotá at the last minute. Why are you worried about the person who gives you the most headache?"

Peña looks at his partner. And he gets up walking to your table.

Murphy is going after it.

Incredibly organized. Completely different from his. He gropes some papers on the table, looking for something that even he doesn't know what it is, opens one of the drawers next door, finds your agenda. It's until today's date.

"Are you crazy?" Murphy is next to him now, "Moving her things, without authorization, this should be at least confidential. If she finds out she will make your life hell for a week"

Peña squeezes her lips in a thin line frowning her eyebrow. Still analyzing your schedule notes. He passes one of his hands over his whiskers.

He knows something isn't right. You were with him last night. You wouldn't have time to go to Bogotá. There wouldn't even be a flight. So soon. There was nothing written down in your agenda that indicated the reason for the disappearance.

Where were you?

Javier left your calendar in the drawer, and reached for his phone, calling the Embassy.

"Agent Peña, I need some information"

"What are you doing?" Murphy whispered in shock.

Peña ignored him.

"I need to know if the Ambassador's assistant has any activity scheduled for today at the embassy"

Murphy threw his hands on his face. Shaking his head.

"Okay. Thank you." He put the phone on the hook.

The eyes are now terrified.

"Something happened," Javier murmured, but to himself than to his partner, he ran down to his table, and took the jacket.

Murphy reaches his partner halfway, holding his arm.

"Where are you going? You went crazy, the girl must be somewhere"

Peña looks firmly at where Murphy's hands have found his arm and pulls for himself.

"I'll be back soon" Peña left.

He went to your dorm, and you weren't there. He was confused, he didn't know if you hadn't come back since the early hours of yesterday, or if you were extremely organized. Because your bed was made, and the objects on your bedside table were impeccably distributed at equal distances.

Javier chose the second option. You were extremely methodical.

He went to the parking lot, your car was not there.

Javier walked to the guardhouse, and asked the guard.

"Did you see a Chevrolet 78 coming out of the base?"

"Yes, she left at 7 a.m. and hasn't come back since then"

Peña put his hands on his waist. Fuck. Where had you gone? Why hadn't you come back yet?

"Did she say where she was going?"

"No, sir."

Fuck!

Javier knew. He felt you weren't safe. Just imagining the things that the sicarians or cartels are capable of doing, his hands closed in a fist so strong that he tasted the meat.

He went straight to Colonel Garrillo's office. He explained the situation.

"If you checked her schedule, she may have taken the morning off," Carrillo suggested.

Peña shook his head.

"No, she never takes time off"

Carrillo laughs, shaking his head.

Javier stiffens.

"Peña, Peña, Peña... you never change, is she an informant?"

Javier uncrosses his leg, and leans in the direction of the Colonel, he would not let his fame slip on you because of him. He wouldn't let them doubt your nature and character.

"She's a good woman. She has been living for this job since she got here. She wouldn't leave without coming back in time for work. I know her. I have a bad feeling."

Carrillo raises his eyebrows.

"Let's wait until after lunch, if she doesn't come back, we'll send searches around the city, okay?"

Javier flaps his fingers on the table at the same moment he nods to the colonel, getting up and leaving the room.

Javier runs his fingers under his jaw. While you're sitting smoking a cigarette on your desk.

Wait.

That's what he needed to do. But every time he looked at your table without you, his stomach tied a knot. Waiting was wasting time.

The phone rang, and he didn't even wait to finish the first call.

"Peña" he introduced himself.

"Agent Peña, this is Don Berna"

Peña's breathing stopped. Don Berna was an accomplice of Judy Moncado, one of the small gangs that were part of the Medellin Cartel.

"I have a proposal that may interest you"

"What a surprise" Peña would not leave the opportunity to be petulant.

Don Berna gave an address of a cafeteria for them to meet.

Peña wasn't late.

The cafeteria was simple, there were few people inside. The background music playing, typical Colombian.

Javier saw Don Berna, he had never seen him in person, only by photos, but it was not difficult to identify.

"¿Que passa, Peña? Waiting for someone else?"

"¿No y tu?" Javier was standing next to the table, with his hands on his waist.

"No. It's not necessary, I have friends everywhere" Don Berna stirred the sugar in his cup of coffee.

Javier tried not to sketch the irony on his face. This was a boring conversation just to intrinsically indicate that he might not be with someone there, but that if something happened to him there, they would know that it had been Javier and this would have consequences.

"Pero, siéntate, sit down so you can taste the best coffee in Medellin." Don Berna raises a tone of voice "Ana Luz, make a coffee for my friend."

Javier sits down.

"Do you have anything but coffee to offer me?" Arms crossed in front of the body.

"Look Agent, I'm not just any informant, and I'm not looking for any reward. No."

"So why are we here?" Javier shrugs his shoulders.

Don Berna leans over the table.

"Agent, you and I are like the snake and the cat. If the snake has the opportunity, it will kill the cat. If the cat has a chance, the snake is mary. But sometimes they both see a very big mouse." He hummed the last word. "And sometimes they both want to eat"

Javier was losing his posture. He began to understand where Don Berna was trying to go. He knew this metaphor was about you. He understood that you were with Don Berna, with his henchmen.

"Where is she?"

"Tranquilo"

Javier uncrossed his legs and leaned over the table approaching Don Berna.

"Where. Is. She?"

Don Berna laughed, pleased to know that you meant something to Javier, after all. That would make things easier. And he leaned against the chair.

"She's fine, don't worry"

Javier wanted to punch this mother's narco son in the face, until he said where you were, but he needed to control himself because your life could be at risk.

"What do you want?" Javier asked.

"I need your help, and your help will be beneficial to me and to you too" he paused torturing the Agent "If you help me, I will return your girl, and you will still be able to make a great apprehension."

"What do you need?"

"I need you to invade a laboratory. I'll give you the location, and you just need to invade it."

Peña frowned. He would never question if it would bring you back to him safe and sound. But he needed to explain it to the others.

"How will this help you?"

"The laboratory was mine, but Pablo took it, and if you seize it, he would have been at a loss."

That's all he needed. He didn't even think much. He just did everything he could as soon as possible.

Peña returned to the base at the Academy as fast as he can. And he started suggesting the operation.

"It's here." He pointed to the image taken from the satellite "let's make an inventory later, so we know what was seized"

"How do you know that?" Murphy asked.

"Through an informant" the hoarse tone of voice.

"Let's go," Carrillo encouraged.

And they left. It would be easy for him to come in and rescue you. That's what he had in mind. And when he rescued you, he would explain later if it were the case the connection between the apprehension and you being precisely in this captivity.

Anyway, the men were positioned, about to invade the house, where the laboratory worked.

It was easy to surrender the team that worked there. The only problem was that you weren't there.

Damn. Fuck!

Javier entered all the rooms of the house, in the attic, in the basement, looked outside, everywhere, and you were not there.

He wanted to run out of there, and stay planted in that cafe until he met Don Berna, and made him say where you were.

But he needed to stay there and finish the operation. Javier ran his hands through his hair, sighing with his eyes closed.

"Your informant is a gold mine," Murphy said, while bringing the cigarette.

"Yes, he's good," Peña smiled, observing the apprehensions.

"You don't look happy," Murphy said.

"I am. I am" Javier patted his partner on the back, rose a cigarette, and walked away.

***

Murphy and Peña returned to the base, in an unpleasant atmosphere.

Murphy had gone out for a "walk" with Colonel Carrillo, and one of Pablo Escobar's sicaries, who was arrested in the invasion of the laboratory and we probably already knew where this had gone. Carrillo had a little disturbing methods.

Javier tried to distract himself from the fact that you were not under his eyes, but being held hostage by drug traffickers in God knows where. Praying silently that you were safe. Because he would kill anyone who had touched you.

He was failing you. He knew that just as it had happened to Helena, it could happen to anyone he got involved with. But he did not imagine that the cartel would extrapolate the limit in this way, kidnapping an American government agent.

***

That day passed. You didn't come back. Javier thought that eventually after Don Berna knew that the attack on the laboratory had been successful he would free you. But that didn't happen.

So Javier added the useful to the pleasant. He reported his kidnapping to the embassy.

Carrillo set up a rescue operation for you. Javier told about the possibility of you being with some cartel, in exchange for information.

Carrillo increased the attacks on all of Pablo's bases, killing every sicario who appeared in front. But days went by and they couldn't find you.

Javier didn't sleep. He listened to all the calls from the wiretaps. He answered all the phone calls. He didn't stop working and looking for any clues that led to you.

He couldn't imagine how you were. There was a whole mobilization even in Bogotá so that the searches were more intense. But there was no sign of you.

"We're going to find her," Murphy said when he realized that Javier was lost in thoughts.

Javier just nodded.

It wasn't fair to you. You didn't deserve it. Why didn't they kidnap him? Or anyone else he had been involved with? But you? His heart squeezed with the idea of where you could be. If you was eating. If with your sharp tongue they would respect you and not hit you. If they could stand it, they wouldn't kill you. If you were still alive. If they hadn't done worse, because depending on what might be happening, maybe death would be better.

He closed his eyes shaking his head.

Carrillo was committed to finding you. But he was also committed to taking the opportunity to embezzle Pablo Escobar.

Messina was called to Bogotá for a conversation with Crosby.

"Do the agents have anything to do with it?" Crosby asked.

"Not that I know of" Messina was impassive.

"If Peña and Murphy are right, they are the only ones the asshole trusts," Crosby talked about the colonel.

"I find it difficult for Colonel Carrillo to forget about her. She is pleasant and competent in all areas, and has helped operations a lot, has played a key role"

"It's exactly what he wants, to keep everyone under his wings, with the guarantee that they are friends and partners, so no one will question the means he has been using, but guess what? People are already starting to question how a department can't find a girl from the United States government who has been missing for 7 days"

Messina was silent.

"If Carrillo wants to walk the streets killing every sicario he finds, God bless him. But our agent needs to be back at the base, and I don't want the attacks to be linked to our agents. They can no longer be together in the operations"

***

Edward, the person in charge of Centra Spike, summoned Javier, Murphy and Carrillo to pass on new information.

"Everything was standing still for those days. But there was a phone call three times on the same night, all in the same neighborhood," he finished explaining.

"They don't control themselves," Murphy smiled.

Javier was turned off. He couldn't deal with this situation anymore. There was no concentration with absolutely nothing in the department. Murphy tried to pass on details of the investigations, but he simply dissociated and could not finalize a line of reasoning.

"Are you dating or something?" Murphy questioned.

"I'm not the type to date..."

"You are on the verge of a nervous breakdown without her here under your supervision," Murphy laughed a little.

"Maybe because if we take longer she may be dead..."

"Do you like her"

Javier didn't answer. He needed to find you. Nothing else crossed his mind. Then he dealt with the feelings. If Pablo and you showed up in front of him today, he would choose you a million times.

With their kidnapping, they were forbidden to leave the base. But Javier received a phone call from Gabriela, a woman he met before you had sex that day in the file room. And sometimes later too.

Gabriela called him to go to her house, which she was missing.

"No puedo bebita, estoy trabajando"

But she insisted. And Javier gave in. It wouldn't be a bad idea to get a little distracted.

"Messina also caught your attention for leaving the base?" Murphy questioned.

"Yes"

Javier would pick up his jacket and an envelope on the table in a hurry.

"Where are you going?"

"Get out. From the base"

Murphy rolled his eyes shaking his head.

It was good that Javier gave in to Gabriela's invitation, although he went with other intentions. Gabriela had contact with a girl who would give information about where Pablo would be, and at what time.

The information was right, Centra Spike's eavesdropping pointed to Pablo's conversation over the phone.

Javier just thought about how difficult everything was without you there, and how your work was different. Things that took them hours, you would take minutes. And how he would like you to be there, to participate in this moment. Never before has there been such a hot track that led to Escobar.

In conjunction with this, Peña's extension rang.

It was Don Berna, with the promise that he would give the address if you were.

Things happened very quickly.

Javier ran to Edward passing the address mentioned by Don Berna, so that he would send the plane to fly over and check some clue.

A few hours later, in the midst of the organizations and eavesdropping for Pablo's operation, Edward called Peña to listen to the recording.

"She's fine, live, just... this son of a bitch hasn't been eating for a few days, but she's fine"

"It's her" Javier's chest squeezed.

Javier hit Edward on the back and ran towards Colonel Carrillo's room. They called a meeting.

In the room were Javier, Carrillo, Messina, Murphy and Trujillo.

Javier reviewed Escobar's two recordings and the call that indicated your captivity.

"The points are close we can kill two rabbits in one shot" Javier was anxious.

"We have to leave now," Carrillo said.

"Yes" Javier has already been heading to the door.

"You two are going to stay here," Messina said calmly to Javier and Murphy.

"Are you kidding me?" Javier exclaimed.

"If Crosby finds out, we can be sent home," she explained.

"Crosby doesn't need to know shit," Murphy said indignantly.

Messina got up to talk.

"This is an order"

Javier and Murphy were shocked and paralyzed.

Carrillo looked at them.

"We will be in touch by radio. I'll bring her home." he told Javier.

And he left.

"Jesus!" Javier exclaimed like a sigh. Walking from side to side, running your hands through your hair.

This was the most forceful clue Javier and Steve had from Pablo Escobar. But you Javier thought millions of times, between you and Pablo, he wasn't paying much attention to Pablo. And the mistake started there. He didn't think straight. He didn't analyze it. Javier wanted to act as fast as he could. He just wanted you to come back, alive.

***

What comforted Javier about the operation was that who would be there was Carrillo. Since he couldn't go. That's all.

"We're out in 20 minutes"

Javier listened to Carrillo on the radio. Sitting with his body on the table, so focused on the radio that he didn't notice Murphy walking back and forth behind him. Edward tuning in to the eavesdropping, or the presence of Messina in front of him.

The train left towards the first target. You.

The vehicles made a worm path through the streets of Medellin.

"We are getting closer to the target"

Javier listened. Closing his eyes, with the device stuck to his face.

May she be alive. Please.

Javier wouldn't forgive himself if he couldn't save you.

Carrillo parked, and positioned the men with a view to shooters over other nearby houses and roofs. And also some men who would accompany him for theirs.

"We are in front of the address"

Carrillo wouldn't need to give this information. But he thought of Peña.

They broke down the door, and the shooting started.

You were in a room upstairs, blindfolded, hands and feet tied. Too weak to be able to get up and sit down.

You heard voices, shots and feet running. Something inside you said that this was its end. There were many possibilities. Another cartel invades the place. The sicarios fights with each other. Someone came to pick you up, but honestly, after seven days, you no longer counted on this possibility.

The first three days were acceptable. Nobody hit you. They brought acceptable food, and removed you to go to the bathroom. But on the fourth day some men tried to take advantage of you, drunk and drugged. At that time you were loose without presenting any kind of threat, just blindfolded.

But when the men approached you with dirty intentions, you fought. As if your life depended on it. Because it depended. With nails and teeth. Literally. You ripped a piece of a man's ear. And he scratched his face so deep if another that you were sure he would never be able to look in the mirror without remembering the reason for the scar.

"No" one of them held the arm of the one who pointed the gun at you "No podemos matarla"

Not being able to kill you, it brought you consequences. They couldn't kill you, but they could punish you in other ways. Hitting you. Punches. Kicks. They tied you up. And they wouldn't let you go to the bathroom or eat. You were without a bath, stinky, and peeing for days on yourself. The plate of food always came with a surprise, spit, or insects.

And at that point, you would already rather die than continue in this inhuman situation.

When the door to the room you were in was broken into. You heard steps approaching you, slow.

Colonel Carrillo saw the situation you were in. A girl like you should never have been subjected to this.

"Jesus," he exclaimed.

The radio on, all the time. Peña on the other side, was breathing with difficulty. The chest squeezing.

"Don't touch me," you said, crawling slowly to stay in a corner of the room. But for some reason, the person didn't respect it.

Javier listening to his voice on the radio, managed to relax, he let out the air through his mouth, and supported his head with his hands, still holding the radio close to his forehead.

So you screamed.

"Get out! Don't touch me"

"Shhhh"

"Let go of me, you son of a bitch" you struggled like a fish out of the water using your last energies and strength. "Please"

"It's me, Carrillo, it's okay, I came to get you out of here"

He took off his blindfold, your eyes taking a long time to adapt.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt? Can you walk?"

You had no reaction. You was afraid it would be a hallucination.

Carrillo put his arms under your back to lift you up.

"She's here," he shouted.

Trujillo entered the room. Frowning. Disturbed by your situation.

"How is she?"

You heard Peña's voice on the radio, from Trujillo.

"Alive"

He answered.

Trujillo's answer did not reassure Javier. He knew. He has seen many captivity. And he was afraid of your situation.

Carrillo realized that you couldn't move, and took you in his lap.

You murmured. With body aches.

"It's okay, I got you, it's going to be fast" Passing the other hand behind your knees.

Javi heard his murmurs. Still with my eyes closed imagining the whole scene as if he were there with you.

It was the most tense and agonizing situation that Messina and Murphy had recorded Javier living. They had never seen Agent Peña that way. Murphy was beginning to measure the seriousness of his friend's case. And he thought if it was Connie in place. His stomach turned. He felt guilty for not having helped his partner more attentively, when his cat was killed, Javier went to the last breath with it.

Murphy walked to Javier and squeezed his partner's shoulder in a reassuring gesture.

"Give her a uniform to wear," Carrilho said.

"Yes sir" Trujillo, fixed a shirt on you.

Your clothes are too torn and dirty.

You don't remember if you were able to sleep in this place. And probably not. When Carrillo put you sitting in the car seat, passing your belt through you, your body seemed to have been taken from under a truck that weighed on you.

"You're safe now, let's take you home, did you hear me?"

You nodded.

Finally managing to breathe.

"Let's get someone else now, rest"

Carrillo ran his hand through his hair. He closed the door. And he got into the front seat next to the driver.

"Target 1 recovered"

Peña opened his eyes. Throwing his head back.

Messina furrowed her forehead at him.

"Sorry," she murmured, now knowing how he should and wanted to be there.

"Let's go to San Juan"

You heard Trujillo's voice on the radio.

"Understood. Be careful, guys"

Now it was Murphy who spoke.

"How is the situation?"

"Everything is quiet. Murphy, tonight you pay for the drink"

It was Tujillo's voice.

You hear Carrillo laughing in the front seat. Too tired to be with your eyes open.

"Don't forget the cigars of the sicarios for me and Peña"

Murphy seemed happy.

"Claro, bonita”

Trujillo was interrupted by the deafening noise of a bomb, which exploded in the car in front of his.

You clung to the seat, watching the vehicle go into the air, and the light yellow of the fire exploding in combustion with air.

"It's on fire!"

Javier and Murphy listened on the radio.

Carillo looked back at you, who had your eyes smashed.

A truck positioned itself at the entrance of the street preventing your passage.

"In reverse," he shouted.

But another truck stopped behind you. You were surrounded.

"It's an ambush"

Trujillo shouted on the radio.

And the shots started.

"Carrillo answers. Carrillo! Trujillo! Do you hear?"

You heard Javier's voice on the radio.

The noise of the automatics would make you more deaf than the bomb. This was the biggest shooting you’ve ever seen.

Javier and Murphy listened to the shooting.

"Damn! Talk to me!"

Murphy turned to Messina

"We need reinforcements"

Javier was leaning over the radio with his eyes closed.

"Carrillo?" He called.

The shots hitting the glasses next to you, breaking them on you. The driver's blood splashed on you after the shot hit the head.

You took your hands to your ears, and bent down in the back seat.

There was another explosion of the car's engine behind you.

You heard Carrillo open the vehicle door. You crawled in the back seat, to reach the pistol in the holster of the agent who was killed in the driver's seat.

You held the pistol, with trembling hands, lowered, so shrunk that you would reduce its size twice.

You listened to the shots, and you wanted to scream because you knew that Carrillo outside the car, there was only one end, he would be killed.

There was one last shot, and then you heard the sound of the body falling to the ground.

Peña had his hand squeezing his eyes.

"Fuck!"

He left the radio room. Walking aimlessly through the base. You had died. That's what he thought. Died.

His eyes were blurred. He was desperate. If they had gone, they could have rescued you and returned to the base while Carrillo went after Pablo.

But on the other hand, Javier began to feel guilty, for the ambush he put all of you. It was his contact. It was his information. And now you were dead. Carrillo was dead.

It was his fault.

You heard a truck move. But I didn't have the courage to get up. You couldn't move. Your body trembled all at the same time it was locked. You didn't know what to do.

The noise of footsteps over the cracked windows, approaching the car where you were. You were hyper conscious listening to everything around you. The fire is cracking. The noise of the metal creaking. And now the steps. Your head moved fast, while you looked for the direction of the origin of the sound.

The silhouette of three men invaded the shadows that the fire made burning in front of you, you could know that they were behind you, at the door where you were leaning. You closed your eyes.

"Mire me" you heard.

And you automatically opened his eyes, obeying through the adrenaline and fear that ran through his veins. But you didn't see anything. It wasn't with you.

"Que me mire!" The voice was familiar. "Le pediste a un niño que me diera esto"

Your heart stopped. Would it be possible?

You tried to move as little as possible, to look through the glass of the door window, above you.

You knew who it was. It was him. It was Pablo Escobar. There in front of you. You stopped breathing.

Your eyes roused when you understood what was going to happen.

Pablo triggered the gun. And he aimed at Carrillo's head.

You put a hand in your mouth, so that you would continue to make the greatest absolute silence possible.

"Te estoy devolviendo" Pablo said. And he shot.

The sound made you jump in fright in the car. You closed your eyes.

"Y esto es para mi primo Gustavo."

And you heard 9 more shots in a row.

There was a silence.

Sound of sirens in the background.

You were lowered, shrunk, with your hand in your mouth, your eyes closed, holding the useless pistol.

You don't know how long you stayed there. You heard little by little closer and closer, the noise of cars approaching. Sirens. People talking and running. But you couldn't move.

Peña ran from car to car, until he got to the last one, seeing dead Carrillo lying on the ground. He walked more slowly. Digesting the image. He knew you were close, you were in the car with Carrillo. And then he saw your head, behind the driver's seat.

He turned around quickly, and hesitated to open the door. Your back fell backwards. He held you.

"Hey hey hey" your body in Javier's arms, he felt your sob, and your whole body tremble, "It's me, I'm here, look at me"

You sank your head into his chest, the smell of the family colony. Only your arms loosened enough from your body to sink your fingers into the flesh of his shoulders.

"I need to see you cariño, look at me" he knelt on the floor. "HELP!" He screamed.

Murphy spotted you both, and ran to call a rescuer.

You used to cry. And you didn't even realize you were crying. It was impossible to control, you couldn't stop. You couldn't open your eyes. You wanted to hide forever. Your knees stuck to your chest.

Javier's hands passed through the side of your cheek.

"Honey, please, I need you to open your eyes," he murmured with his lips leaning against your head.

Javier tried to push you away to check your body, but you were still in the same position you were in the car. Sinking your hands even deeper into his shoulder. He put you on his lap while you were sitting on the floor, and shook you slowly.

Then he reached the gun that was in both hands, which you held firmly in your hand.

"Give to me, babe, I'll take care of it now" you released automatically.

"Are you hurt?" He groed your back, looking at his hands looking for blood. He found it when he squeezed your arm and you whined shrinking more, his hands stained with blood.

He raised your sleeve carefully and saw that it was just a scraping bullet wound.

The rescuer approached you with the stretcher.

Javier shook his head.

"She's not going to lie there," Javier said.

"I need her to lie down so I can examine and check the traumas," the man said.

"Do you have a female rescuer?" Javier looked through the cars while still holding the cupcake you formed on his lap.

The rescuer nodded. Shouting a woman's name.

"Babe, I'll take you to take care of you, okay?" He spoke calmly, the tone of voice hoarse and low. Javier got up, and you squeezed his shoulder even more.

The marks of your nails would be stuck in his flesh, but he didn't care, what mattered was that you were alive. He walked with you to the mobile ambulance.

He sat with you on his lap.

Peña studied you.

You were thinner. Deep eyes. The smaller cheeks. Your right eye was black. Your lips were broken in a cut in the left corner.

They assaulted you.

There were marks on your wrists, probably from where you were tied. Your clothes were torn, and your arms were scratched. Signs that you tried to defend yourself.

They tried to abuse you.

He held your wrist, pulling your hands that closed around his fingers. Javier analyzed, your nails were bloody.

Signs that someone was badly injured. Good. He gave a light kiss on your fingers.

Javier ran his fingers over your hair.

The rescuer approached.

"I need you to open your eyes to me"

You heard it. But you spent so much time blindfolded, and now you were so scared, that it seemed right to continue with your eyes closed.

Peña made a caress by running her fingers over her eyebrows. You wouldn't stop shaking.

He spoke in his favorite tone, his lips rubbing the top of his head.

"Look at me, cariño, please, let's take care of you"

You made an effort. Only and exclusively because you really wanted to see Javier. Look at him. For the most beautiful eyes you've ever seen. Little by little you opened your eyes, trying to adapt to the light.

"That’s it" he kept running his fingers through your eyebrows as if he were trying to calm you down "that's it, you're doing well, babe"

The light bothered you, but you saw his face. You swallowed it dry.

Javier nodded to the rescuer.

You had your face glued to his chest, the perfect fit of your head and the contour of his neck, as if it belonged to that place.

The rescuer passed the light over her eyes to check for trauma. But it's all right.

She lifted the blouse from her arm.

And you didn't look away from Javier's face for a minute. He also looked at you, but sometimes he watched and talked to the rescuer.

She pressed the product to sterilize the place where the bullet scraped you. You shrunk. Pulling the air through your mouth, frowning your face in pain.

"It's okay, it will pass, it's fast, I promise" Javier was attentive to you, always trying to comfort you.

After a long time. You felt your muscles unlocking. And an enormous pain, in your body, his breathing comes out trembling. Little by little, you sat down, Javier finally took you off his lap, and laid you down on the stretcher, where the rescuer made a new evaluation of you.

Javier was lowered at the height of your head, on the stretcher, with his hands on your head. The rescuer put an access on you, for serum. You needed to hydrate yourself.

"Did they touch you?" Javier asked with the saddest eyes you had ever seen him carry.

You shook your head in the negative.

He ran his hand through your hair. Looking at the rescuer, while she finished first aid on you.

"Is she okay? How is she?" He asked the girl.

“She's in shock, some injuries, but nothing serious"

Javier was looking for your eyes, which were glazed lost in nothing, with some persistent tears still running down his face.

"You're fine babe, everything is fine, I'm here with you, everything will be fine..." he spoke as he looked at you, and looked for your soul, which was out of the body.

You could hear Javier, you could feel the weight of his warm and big hand in your arms, the affection he made in your hair, you could smell his cologne, and the noise of the creaking of the leather of his jacket with his movements, but I couldn't feel anything inside you, it was a hollow void, and full of fear.

The noises of the thousands of shots fired by the semi-automatics, still echoing in your head making a big buzz in your ear. The feeling of the hot blood of the driver splashing on you. The sound of the bullet piercing his head. Flashbacks that crossed your mind.

At some point your mouth moved. And Javier moved to get closer to you.

"I heard them..." your voice came out like a murmur, while the rescuer moved your arm.

Your eyes are still glazed in nothing.

"Who did you hear?" Javier sat down now, standing over you, dancing his eyes between your eyes, curious, worried "who did you hear cariño?"

He settled down leaning closer to you, perhaps trying to hear you better, since your voice was nothing more than a murmur.

"I heard Pablo approaching Carrilho..." your eyes watered you felt your nose burn, your chest hurting pulling an erratic breath, your voice faltered, "I heard him trigger the gun, and say that it was for Gustavo" your eyes finally found Javier's, your tears flowed down your face. "It was him"

Javier was silent for a while, swallowed it dry. And finally he held your face. Your purple lip, cracked with the wound.

"Shhhh" he passed his thumb wiping the tears that flowed "It's okay"

"I didn't do anything..." your words came out with the air from your mouth, "I could have saved him, I could have shot Pablo and ended that there" you shook your head frantically, as the tears flowed.

"No, babe, it's okay..." Javier caressed your hair, and pulled your face so that your foreheads were united.

"I didn't do anything, I didn't do fucking..." you were crying, unable to control yourself, pulling your breath desperately.

"Hey! You're safe, babe. That's all that matters, it's okay, breathe for me, okay?" Javier spoke low and low, calmly, he inspired you to imitate his movements.

But you just couldn't get the air into your lungs. Everything was tears, blurry, and pain.

"I don't..." came out between desperate sighs.

Javier looked at the rescuer, and she nodded to Javier, who lifted you a little from the stretcher wrapping you in a tight hug. Caressing the back of your neck, your fingers intertwined between your hair.

"Everything is fine now, I'm here, let's get them, I promise." Javier's hoarse and low voice between your hair.

Gradually his warmth comforted you, and left you damped. His smell, calming you down.

The rescuer showed him on his back, a tranquilizer, and he nodded. Moving away from you enough for the rescuer to reach your arm, to apply it to you.

"No..." you shook your head frantically with your eyes wide.

Javier held your face firmly with his hands on your cheeks.

"It will help, babe, I'll take care of you, trust me" he said looking deep into your eyes, wiping your tears.

Looking at him and the rescuer, you blinked a few times, and ended up giving in, you nodded.

The rescuer applied it to you. And in a few minutes, the buzz in your ear slowly dissipated, your eyes getting heavy.

Javier felt your body giving in. He was laying you back on the stretcher gently.

"It's okay, I'm here" Javier's voice was getting distant.

"Stay with me" you held his arm.

"I'm not going anywhere," he murmured.

Feeling his warm hand wrap your cold fingers, your eyes closed and everything was silent.

Peace.

[fatehbaz]

Besides its ecological relevance, the disappearance of the Paraná pine (Araucaria angustifolia), a tree that is native to Brazil, also threatens the survival of an entire people: the Kaingáng, the third-largest Indigenous population in Brazil, with a contingent of 45,000 people.

The Paraná pine forest, also called mixed ombrophilous forest, is one of the most devastated ecosystems in Brazil. In the past, it covered 40% of the territory of Paraná state, 30% of Santa Catarina and 25% of Rio Grande do Sul. Today it has been reduced to 3% of its original extent [...].

“The Kaingáng [people] need to exist not only as people, but also as a culture produced in this environment of the araucária tree, of the forest, of the environment, and this is a cultural retake, of resilience,” says historian Bruno Ferreira, a member of the Kaingáng people who holds a PhD in education.

The Paraná pine occupies a noble space in Kaingáng culture. It is used for food, in formal education, as raw material for the production of handicrafts and as a resource for maintaining spirituality.

The seed harvested from this tree, the pine nut, for example, is consumed in various ways: roasted, cooked or pounded in a mortar and pestle and made into a flour called pisé.

But also, the plant species that grow under the tree serve as important nutritional sources, such as the nettle (pyrfér in the Kaingáng language), the fern (grỹ), the sinjir, a kind of vine, and the ka nĩgrẽg mushroom, taken from the trunk of the tree.

The resting and meals usually take place under the Paraná pine, moments when the teachings that promote the maintenance of the Kaingáng culture are orally transmitted. The Paraná pine also makes up Kaingáng myths [...].

“[The Paraná pine] brings teachings to the families, to the Indigenous population, and to the spiritual knowledge of the kujá [spiritual leaders of the Kaingáng people], which were passed down by our ancestors,” says kujá Pedro Garcia, who was honored by the government of Rio Grande do Sul with a Cultural Trajectories Award in 2021.

The problem is that most of the Indigenous lands where the Kaingáng live no longer have Paraná pines. “When distributing araucária seedlings, a chief sought help and told us that the communities had no more pine trees and could not cut them down for the annual Kaingáng rite,” says Flávio Zanette, a researcher at the Federal University of Paraná and an expert in the study of the species in the country for almost 40 years. The ritual to which Zanette refers is the Kiki Koj, a ceremony in honor of the dead in which the trunk of the pine tree is a fundamental element.

Besides the cultural and religious character, the Paraná pine and the Kaingáng people also share a history of land degradation, with the Indigenous people being expelled from their traditional lands over decades [...].

“In the late 1970s and early 1980s, the pine trees were cut down because the idea was that where there was a pine forest, other plants could be produced. And the space gave way to monoculture production,” Ferreira points out. Entire areas in Rio Grande do Sul have been named fág kava, “thin pine” in the Kaingáng language — an indication of the damage caused to the Paraná pine forest in the region over the last centuries. [...]

Even in a difficult scenario, the nobility of the cultural aspects and values of the Kaingáng people still persist in the figure of the Paraná pine. One of the places where this is visible is in the Mato Castelhano/Fág Tỹ Ka Indigenous land, in northern Rio Grande do Sul, where a community of about 300 people live in an area of 3,500 hectares (8,649 acres). The population of Fág Tỹ Ka is different from other Kaingáng communities, in that people have access to the pine trees through the National Forest of Passo Fundo, which overlaps with the Indigenous territory — the result of a negotiation that took almost a decade to come about. “Our ancestors passed through here, my grandparents lived here and there were many araucárias. Our access was difficult, there was a lot of resistance [...], but today we harvest the vine, the taquara and the pine nut,” says the chief of Fág Tỹ Ka, Jonatan Pỹn Sá [...].

The reaffirmation of the ancestral use of the land by the Kaingáng people from the Paraná pine may signal an intensification of responsible decision-making in order to avoid the loss of the tree in the coming years, as Ferreira says. “The Kaingáng culture needs the pine tree. It is our main plant, and its disappearance brings serious consequences because there is a destruction of the cultural source, food and resilience of the Kaingáng people,” says the historian. “Efforts to revitalize Kaingáng culture must be aligned with the resurgence of araucária planting in the territories of the Kaingáng people.”

---

Headline, images, captions, and original text by Sonia Kaingang. “Loss of Brazilian pines threatens Kaingáng Indigenous culture.” Translated by Carol de Marchi and Andre Cherri. As presented and published by Mongabay on 25 October 2022. Originally published at Mongabay’s Brazilian site on 13 October 2022. [Bolded emphasis added by me.]

[momo-de-avis]

vi as tuas asks sobre nacionalidades do pior em termos de turistas e concordo com os franceses no entanto digo que os britânicos são piores... os espanhois são preguiçosos em termos de falar português ou outra lingua (irrita um pouco), os franceses até tem um pouco de noção mesmo à ultima das hipóteses mas os britânicos? salvem-me deles, mil vezes os americanos dsfdshgfgdsgf

Nunca tive problemas com britânicos nem americanos. Acho que os britânicos têm mau perfil no país por causa de décadas de merda no Algarve, infelizmente o Algarve recebe o pior. Ao mesmo tempo o tipo de cliente que eu recebo não é o mesmo a que estamos habituados. Ainda assim, já tive o típico britânico bêbado do futebol e foram divertidisissimos, nunca faltaram ao respeito. Nesse sentido, o norueguês é o pior bêbado que eu já tive de aturar. Genuinamente caótico. Rude, uma besta e faz um cagaçal como nunca vi.

O espanhol não tem noção de espaço, é o que me irrita. O espanhol, em dois anos que trabalho como guia, é até hoje a ÚNICA nacionalidade que me vê identificada como guia e, se tem uma dúvida (onde fica uma rua, por exemplo), interrompe o meu trabalho pra me fazer perguntas. Nem espera. Já se meteram no meio do grupo enquanto estou a falar.

O francês é simplesmente uma besta a toda a hora. E tem-se aceite no mundo dos walktours e do turismo em geral que a francofonia é podre excepto os suíços. Mesmo os canadianos quebecois são especiais (os americanos estadunidenses odeiam-nos, em geral não tem bife com canadianos, mas quebecois é pior que portugues e castelhano).

Digo isto mas a sexta feira passada tive um casal Francês que foi um doce, genuinamente uns queridos e ontem, no tour de merda que tive, um dos casais que se portou muito bem também era frances. Isto pra dizer sempre que as generalizações valem o que valem

Agora, vou te dizer uma coisa. Há nacionalidades bem piores, e muitas nem posso dizer no tumblr que sou cancelada. Há aqui nuances (novo rico de país de terceiro mundo emigrado no Canadá, especificamente em Toronto, é o maior animal que eu já conheci e nunca me faltaram mais ao respeito, por exemplo). O drama que passei ontem, todas as pessoas que me foderam o juízo tinham todas uma região em comum mas são regiões romantizadas.

E acresce a questão de que certos viajantes de certos países é preciso ter cuidado porque quanto mais endinheirado são, mais fdp vão ser. A probabilidade de apanhares turistas ricos chilenos apoiantes do pinochet nunca é zero. Mas atenção que estamos a falar de um marcado específico porque isto são serviços pagos. A questão é que os serviços de que estou a falar nem são de perto os mais caros, aliás até são os mais baratos, e aí é que está. Isto é pessoal que paga 100€ por pessoa pra visitar 3 cidades, que é baratissimo, mas acha que 100€ é bue da dinheiro então comporta se como novo rico. As pessoas de ontem não eram de um país rico, e via se. Os mais novos comportavam se como tiktokers, os mais velhos pareciam a minha avó quando ia a Fátima, levava o caralho do farnel todo. Iam com sacos de comida e foram a comer o caminho todo. Eu já trabalhei com gente genuinamente milionária e tu não dirias, pq é pessoal q só quer mesmo pagar um serviço e quer pagar pela qualidade. Estes estão se a cagar pra qualidade. Querem por 100€ o que os que pagaram 5000€ receberam, então vão fazer a sua cena e tu que te fodas

[multlingvulo]

Guarani & Tupi

TUPI Iaimoeté guaraninhe'enga tupinhe'enga kó iasy. Guaraninhe'enga i pyatãeté. I nhe'engara nda abaeté nhõ ruã; i tyb karaibetá onhe'éngyba'e supi bé. Tabyguaretá nomongetapotári pitanga guaraninhe'enga rupi, kasiananhe'enga pysyrõmo. Oikobete guaraninhe'enga. Emonãnamo, tiaimoeté! Xe apysyketé tupinhe'enga resé nhembo'iabo abé. Asé oikotebẽ tupi ri kó tetama rekoaguera kuapa. Tupinhe'enga resé nhembo'éreme, asé kó tetamyguareté rasy kuábi. Porapitiguasu nde'i opapa ranhẽ. Itaiuberabekasara oiuká anametá 'y motuiuka; latifundiário oporapiti, i mondá yby ri; tabusuetá oroimonhang se'õmbuera resé. Iandé resarai umẽ iandé retamyguareté suí!

GUARANI Ko jasy jagueromandu'a guaraniñe'ẽ ha tupiñe'ẽ. Guarani imbareteite. Oñe'ẽva guaraníme ndaha'éi ypykuérante; oĩ avei heta pytagua oiporúva. Heta tavaygua nomongetasevéima mitãnguérape guaraníme, ha oiporavo karaiñe'ẽnte. Hakatu guaraniñe'ẽ oikove. Upéicharõ, tañamomba'eguasu! Chegustaite avei añemoarandu tupiñe'ẽ. Ñaikotevẽ tupi jaikuaa hag̃ua ko tetama rembiasakue. Ñañemoarandu aja tupi, jaikuaa avei ñane retã ypykuéra rekoasy. Porojukapa ndopái gueteri. Garimpeiro-kuéra ojuka hetaite tapichápe ysyry omongy'ávo; latifundiário-kuéra oporojuka, omonda ijyvy; orojapora'e heta táva te'õngue ári. Ani ñanderesarái ñane retã ypykuérare!

PORTUGUÊS Este mês, celebramos as línguas guarani e tupi. A língua guarani é muito forte. Seus falantes não são apenas indígenas, mas também muitas pessoas brancas a usam. Tem pessoas da cidade que não querem mais falar em guarani com as crianças, escolhendo o castelhano. Mas o guarani vive. Então, vamos celebrá-lo! Gosto muito também de estudar tupi. Precisamos do tupi pra entender a história deste país. Estudando tupi, conhecemos o sofrimento dos povos indígenas daqui. O genocídio ainda não acabou. Os garimpeiros matam muitas famílias poluindo rios; os latifundiários exterminam povos e roubam suas terras; várias cidades foram construídas sobre indígenas mortos. Não nos esqueçamos dos povos originários deste país!

CASTELLANO Este mes celebramos las lenguas guaraní y tupí. La lengua guaraní es muy fuerte. No sólo indígenas la hablan, sino también mucha gente blanca. Hay mucha gente en las ciudades que no quiere hablar más en guaraní a los niños, y están elegiendo al castellano. Pero el guaraní vive. ¡Entonces vamos a celebrarlo! También me gusta mucho aprender el tupí. Necesitamos el tupí para conocer la historia de este país (Brasil). Estudiando el tupí, comprendemos el sufrimientos de los pueblos originarios. El genocidio no acabó todavía. Los garimpeiros matan a mucha gente contaminando los ríos; los latifundiários exterminan pueblos y roban sus tierras; contruimos muchas ciudades sobre indígenas muertos. ¡No olvidemos los pueblos originarios de este país!

ENGLISH This month, we celebrate the Guarani and Tupi languages. The Guarani language is very resilient. Its speakers aren't only indigenous people, but also many whites speak in it. There are many people in the city who don't want to speak in Guarani with children anymore, choosing Spanish instead. But Guarani still lives. So let's celebrate it! I also love studying Tupi. We need Tupi in order to know this country's (Brazil) history. Learning Tupi, we understand the suffering of the indigenous peoples. The genocide is not over yet. Garimpeiros (illegal miners) kill many villages by polluting the rivers; latifundiários (large land-owners) exterminate peoples and steal their land; we've build many cities over dead indigenous warriors. We mustn't forget the first nations of this country!

DeviantArt

Weasyl

InkBunny

[subnitida]

Lienzo de Tlaxcala, 1560 65 x 26,5 cm Desenho policromado sobre papel de casca de árvore relata a história do encontro dos Tlaxcallans e Castelhanos e sua aliança contra os Mexica em 1521

[cecinestpasunlangblr]

Supongo que es hora de hacer una publicación aquí. Vaig a explicar per que volia fer un Tumblr, and I’m sure that we can get things going:

Salut Je suis nouveau ici. Je suis queer et j’ai envie de partager les langues, la linguistique et la grammaire avec quelqu’un qui veut y écouter. Sento-me confiante em Catalão, inglês do Inglaterra e Castelhano europeu. Queria saber mais de Francês, português e italiano… in futuro vorrei sapere più delle lingue che non sono de latine. Io so che hanno errori dentro questa pubblicazione ma spero che voi possiate aiutarmi con questa avventura. ^^

Lo que pongo con «me gusta» siempre será abierto porque podéis verlo because I’m a human being and like other things than language, who knows you might find something you like too.

Commençons avec les mots/ phrases que les gens queers disent par exemple les brésiliens disent « você é do vale? » qui signifie « êtes-vous de la vallée ? » littéralement mais quand une fille m’a dit ça je ne l’ai pas compris. Maintenant je comprend que ce signifie « êtes-vous gay ? ». Dites moi votre propres histoires. :)

[aquariousgirl]

Castelhanos, ES

@aquariousgirl

[allthebrazilianpolitics]

Extratropical cyclone kills 4 in southern Brazil

At least four people were killed in Brazil's southeastern State of Rio Grande do Sul after an extratropical cyclone hit the area Monday leaving hundreds of homes without electricity, Agência Brasil reported.

The storm that has been hitting the north of Rio Grande do Sul since dawn on Monday has caused the death of four people in the cities of Mato Castelhano, Passo Fundo, and Ibiraiaras.

According to the state Civil Defense, a man was electrocuted at home at around 9 am when he was hit by an electric shock in Passo Fundo. He was taken to hospital but did not survive. The discharge was probably caused by lightning.

Also in the morning, the Fire Brigade found the body of Cristiano Schuslei, 41, in the River Piraçuce, in Mato Castelhano. The river had overflowed and the driver was unable to control the vehicle, which was dragged into the river.

Continue reading.

[sidonius5]

[mairamacri]

Côca, o cabeça de abóbora!

[CURIOSIDADE FOLCLÓRICA]

O costume infantil e divertido, em Outubro, de esvaziar abóboras e cortar olhos, nariz e boca buscando uma expressão medonha e iluminar por dentro, está bem longe de ser uma tradição importada americana.

É uma característica cultural milenar da Península Ibérica, que remonta ao tempo dos 'celtiberos'¹, relacionada com o culto celta das "cabeças cortadas", representando as cabeças dos inimigos que foram cortada durante uma guerra ou batalha, em tempos a.C..

Na antiga Beira Alta (província de Portugal) era costume os rapazes levarem espetada num pau, uma abóbora esculpida em forma de cara, com uma vela acesa dentro, lembrando uma caveira, como símbolo das almas do outro mundo.

Em outras regiões de Portugal, essa abóbora cortada em forma de cara levava o nome de coco, que era nome dado à cabeça (com variações de um coco fruta, que tem três orifícios). Por isso, aqui no Brasil, quando vc era criança pentelha e batia ou machucava a cabeça, a vó ou tia avó vinha e falava: "- Bateu o coco? Tadinho..."

Etimologicamente falando, coco é usada em linguagem coloquial para significar a cabeça humana em português e espanhol. Deriva de "crouca" na Galiza, que significa 'cabeça', que por sua vez deriva de "krowkā" em proto-celta com variante "croca", que significa 'cabeça'. Outros cognatos: "crogen" significa 'crânio' na antiga Península da Cornualha - Inglaterra. E "clocan" também significa 'crânio' em Irlandês.

Unindo todos esses elementos ao longo dos séculos... milênios até (por terem variações históricas antes de cristo), acredito que os antigos começaram a atribuir "coco" para uma coisa do mau.

O nome "coco" era um aviso de um mal iminente nos países de língua castelhana e portuguesa, quando as crianças desobedeciam seus pais, não queriam dormir, não queriam comer, ou mesmo colocar medo para não irem à lugares perigosos ou afastados de casa.

Aos poucos "coco" variou para "coca", a coisa do mau, que comia crianças, ou um sequestrador. A coca vigiava as crianças mal educadas em cima do telhado.

A coca funcionava tão bem para assustar a criançada pentelha, que entrou para o folclore lusitano/castelhano. Até ganhou citações em livros, quadros de pintores, e uma cantiga:

“Vai-te coca vai-te coca, para cima do telhado, deixa dormir o menino, um soninho descansado.”

E, eis que a lenda atravessou o oceano e veio parar no Brasil Colônia... E a coca virou cuca, o bicho-papão, a personificação do medo, um ser mutante que assume qualquer forma monstruosa, para assustar as crianças, um papa-crianças. E tinha que cantar pra botar medo na criança, pro pentelho dormir logo e não atrapalhar o namoro dos pais.

Assim, crescemos com essa cantiga, variação lusitana, unindo a cuca e o bicho-papão numa só:

"Nana nenê, que a cuca vem pegar, papai foi na roça e mamãe no cafezal. Bicho papão, sai de cima do telhado deixe esse menino dormir sossegado."

Aí, veio o Monteiro Lobato, em 1921, e transformou a lenda incrível do cabeça de abóbora num personagem totalmente desconstruído.

No livro O Saci, de Monteiro Lobato, ele descreve a cuca como uma velha amedrontadora, que tem "cara de jacaré e garras nos dedos como os gaviões" (broxante...).

Então, com o passar das décadas, as pessoas se esqueceram da coca/cuca cabeça de abóbora e trouxeram a cuca jacaré para assustar a prole desobediente.

PRONTO!

Quando tiver vontade de pegar uma abóbora, cortar olhos, boca e acender uma vela dentro, LEMBRE-SE, NÃO É SÓ UM COSTUME AMERICANO. Ele viajou milênios entre os povos para chegar em sua forma como vemos hoje.

Sabe, né, aquela velha história: Quem conta um conto, aumenta um ponto.

Maira Macri.

____

¹. Celtiberos: Povos ibéricos pré-romanos celtas ou celtizados que habitavam a Península Ibérica desde finais da Idade do Bronze, no século XIII a.C., até à romanização da Hispânia, desde o século II a.C. ao século I.

(fonte: Arquivos Provençais de Beira Alta, Wikipédia - Coco/Coca, Bicho-Papão, Cuca, Folclore - Imagem: Google)

[tiremascriancasdasala]

Achei isso perdido num arquivo antigo, editei 2 ou 3 respostas et voilá! (:

Color Asks

red: describe your favorite shirt

Cinza, decote em V e tem um pequeno furo na frente.

orange: if you could, would you change your eye color? why? to what color, if so?

Não mudaria.

yellow: name of an artist you think is underappreciated

Alabama Shakes.

green: do you have a favourite flower?

Gérberas.

blue: preferred type of weather?

Qualquer um que não me faça suar: fresco, frio, ventandinho...

magenta: do you keep your fingernails long or short?

Short. With dark nail polish.

turquoise: favorite sea animal?

Polvos.

fuchsia: favorite land animal?

Cachorro.

cyan: are you religious? spiritual?

Religiosa não. Talvez um pouco (bem pouco) espiritual.

sea green: can you fold a fitted sheet?

Sinceramente, eu nem nunca tentei. Faço um “bolinho” e tá ótimo.

violet: are you a part of the lgbt+ community?

Não. Meu defeito é ser hétero. ):

amber: what's saved as your phone's lockscreen?

Uma linda estampa da Pip Studio. (:

aqua: do you thrift?

Sim!

pink: what's your natural hair color?

Grisalho.

beige: have any pets? what're their names?

Nop.

black: would you ever try going vegetarian or vegan?

Não!

coral: an animal you wish hadn't gone extinct

Mamute.

grey: how many languages do you speak? do you want to learn any more?

Português, inglês e castelhano.

maroon: do you care for clothing brands?

Nem um pouco!

rose: favourite scent on a person? 

Cheiro de banho tomado.

charcoal: have you ever been camping?

Jamais!

claret: do you play an instrument? do you want to learn to play any?

Não.

copper: gold or silver jewelry?

Silver.

cream: any piercings or tattoos? do you want any?

Nenhum piercing. Umas 19 tattoos.

salmon: how many pairs of sunglasses do you own?

Três.

ebony: would you ever want to play a game on television? (jeopardy, family fued, etc)

Nunca.

indigo: have you ever lived on a farm?

Sim.

emerald: if you had the option, would you choose to move and live in another country? which one?

Sim, iria criar ovelhas na Islândia.

lavender: relationship status?

Feliz! (:

erin: what was/is your best school subject?

Bioquimica e fisiologia.

mauve: any unpopular opinions?

Não concordo com tudo o que é considerado “politicamente correto”.

fulvous: another name you think would suit you

Devo ter cara de Tatiana, pq muita gente acha que este é o meu nome.

coconut: a subject you enjoy learning about

Joalheria! (((:

porcelain: an tv show you used to Love

Anos incríveis e Mad Men

fawn: any interesting family stories?

Nop.

gold: do you wear your socks mismatched?

Nop.

honey: your thoughts on magic- does it exist?

Acho que existe.

rust: form of art you enjoy doing?

Cozinhar, bordar e fazer jóias.

ginger: any sideblogs?

Nop.

cherry: YouTubers you enjoy watching?

Nenhum.

wine: do you have a 'type'

Não acho que seja um “tipo”, é mais pré-requisito: não ser burro, nem tosco (ou seja, não pode ser Bolsominion nem terraplanista) #FORABOLSONARO

mahogany: your sun, moon, and rising signs

Não faço a menor ideia!

blood: twin beds, queen, or king?

Queen.

plum: a food you've never tried

Eu como até pedra. Não tenho preconceito.

lilac: dogs, cats, or fish?

Cachorros.

amethyst: do you collect anything?

Bijoux: anéis, pulseiras e colares.

mulberry: earbuds or headphones?

Headphones.

azure: jean jackets?

Não tenho nada contra, mas não costumo usar.

teal: have a job?

Sou espiã secreta.

denim: kill the spider or take it outside?

Kill.

sapphire: do you think you can sing well?

Nop.

mint: favourite flavour of gum?

Melancia.

pecan: shuffle your playlist, what's the first song that comes up?

Nina Simone – Take care of business

penny: icecream or cake

Cake. With icecream.

ash: can you do your own makeup?

Uso apenas o básico, então consigo.

jade: ever written fanfiction?

Nop.

grape: how many blogs do you follow?

Uns mil.

umber: do you brush your teeth before you eat?

Claro!

prussian blue: what's your first choice at the vending machine

Batata chips e Coca Cola

aquamarine: beach or pool

Piscina

brass: least favorite food condiment

Coentro.

mustard: how much sugar in your tea/coffee?

Nenhum.

silver: ever broken a bone?

Nop.

rose quartz: rings or necklaces

Anéis!

burgundy: ever ridden a motorcycle?

Já, mas sou “garupa”, não sei pilotar.

scarlet: favorite Holiday

Carnaval. Tenho um encosto de Chacrete.

apricot: opinion on 3 in 1 body wash/hair wash 

Tanto faz!

[sosoawayrpg]

Se você pesquisa especificamente a etnia do personagem, você encontra isso: "He is depicted as being of Castilian extraction and Spanish ancestry, which was first brought up in "Art and the Addams Family" on December 18, 1964; in the episode, Gomez says his "ancestral land" is Spain and Morticia refers to him as a "mad Castilian." <<< castelhano é especificamente latino, o fato de ter tido atores não latinos interpretando ele em algum momento da história da obra, não apaga a etnia do personagem. Entendo que é uma família típica "estadunidense", mas é só fazer uma pesquisa breve pra entender, sem contar que Gomez é um sobrenome comum na América latina. Se quer manter o fc europeu, ao menos escolhe um fc espanhol ou de origem espanhola.

okay, anotado.