#farmer Riva

[crispyanonart]

fun fact: when I first got into Stardew Valley I knew nothing about the game and I genuinely thought it was nothing more than a country-life RPG, you can imagine my surprise 😀

[hotvintagepoll]

THE TOURNAMENT IS OVER! Eartha Kitt lounges in her deck chair in the sun, dipping her toes in the pool with Toshiro Mifune and sipping a brightly colored fruity something with an umbrella in it.

Far below in the shadow realm, however, the fallen hotties dance in the dark—let's take a minute to look back at them under the cut.

PRELIM PRETTIES:

Claude Gensac, Silvia Pinal, Ewa Aulin, Rita Tushingham, Annette Funicello, Norma Bengell, Catherine Spaak, Brigitte Auber, Micheline Presle, Nanette Fabray, Libertad Lamarque, Vera Miles, Martha Raye, Catherine McLeod, Virginia Mayo, Elizabeth Allan, Belle Bennet, Virginia Cherill, Mary Brian, Ruth Chatterton, Agnes Ayres, Merna Kennedy, Marie Prevost, Corinne Griffith, May Allison, Virginia Brown Faire, Alice Brady, and Jetta Goudal

ROUND ONE WONDERS:

Angie Dickinson, Thelma Ritter, Geraldine Chaplin, Evelyn Preer, Vanessa Brown, Betty Blythe, Susan Hayward, Mae Clarke, Sally Ann Howes, Ossi Oswalda, Adrienne La Russa, Hermione Gingold, Barbara Bouchet, Melina Mercouri, Anna Karina, Edwige Fenech, Charmian Carr, Pina Pellicer, Marlène Jobert, Tsuru Aoki, Alice Roberts, Leila Hyams, Lady Tsen Mei, Geneviève Bujold, Dolores Hart, Anita Berber, Bonita Granville, Vonetta McGee, Claire Windsor, Zizi Jeanmaire, Tuesday Weld, Grace Darmond, Carol Channing, Deanna Durbin, Laraine Day, Mariette Hartey, Wendy Hiller, Candy Darling, Hermione Baddely, Valeria Creti, Ella Raines, Ann Miller, Dana Wynter, Dalida, Martine Beswick, Gale Storm, Simone Signoret, Cristina Gaioni, Mabel Normand, Stéphane Audran, Ruth Weyher, Anna Wiazemsky, Ann Sheridan, Sandhya Shantaram, Alice White, Anne Francis, Gena Rowlands, Lyda Borelli, May Whitty, Cathleen Nesbitt, Jessica Walter, Virna Lisi, Barbara Shelley, Iris Hall, Heather Angel, Anne Shirley, Joanna Pettet, Virginia O'Brien, Joan Collins, Greer Garson, Gracie Allen, Peggy Ryan, Frances Dee, Shirley Maclaine, Geraldine Farrar, Kathleen Byron, Margaret Hamilton, Eva Gabor, Francesca Bertini, Julie Adams, Olga Baclanova, Misa Uehara, Yvette Vickers, Milena Dravić, Jenny Jugo, Madeleine Carroll, Benita Hume, Olive Borden, Shirley Jones, Miyoshi Umeki, Dorothy Lamour, Gale Sondergaard, Mary Anderson, Charlotte Greenwood, Sybil Seely, Mona Barrie, Kathryn Grayson, Katharine Ross, Madge Bellamy, Rhonda Fleming, Sally Gray, Jana Brejchová, Debra Paget, Madame Sul-Te-Wan, Evelyn Brent, Zelma O'Neal, Marie Laforêt, Türkan Şoray, Beatriz Costa, Irene Zazians, Eleanor Powell, Susan Luckey, Patsy Kelly, Lil Dagover, Norma Talmadge, Dorothy Mackaill, Madge Evans, Virginia McKenna, Amália Rodrigues, Mamie Van Doren, Valerie Hobson, Isabel Jeans, Beata Tyszkiewicz, Claire Luce, Aleksandra Khokhlova, Nieves Navarro Garcia, Janet Leigh, Carmen Miranda, Jean Harlow, Aud Egedge-Nissen, Nina Foch, Jean Simmons, Piper Laurie, Katy Jurado, Jayne Mansfield, Anita Garvin, Frances Farmer, Lizabeth Scott, Joan Greenwood, Una Merkel, Arlene Francis, Ethel Merman, Doris Day, Suzanne Pleshette, Ruta Lee, Carolyn Jones, June Richmond, Eva Nil, Diana Dors, Anna Chang, Colleen Moore, Alexis Smith, Yvette Mimieux, Ruby Keeler, Viola Dana, Dolores Grey, Marie Windsor, Danielle Darieux, Jean Parker, Julie Christie, Acquanetta, Leatrice Joy, Ghita Nørby, Julie Newmar, Joanne Woodward, Sandra Dee, Eva Marie Saint, Simone Simon, Katherine Dunham, Birgitte Price, Lee Grant, Anita Page, Flora Robson, Martha Sleeper, Elsie Ames, Isabel "Coca" Sarli, Glenda Farrell, Kathleen Burke, Linden Travers, Diane Baker, Joan Davis, Joan Leslie, Sylvia Sidney, Marie Dressler, June Lockhart, Emmanuelle Riva, Libertad Leblanc, Susannah Foster, Susan Fleming, Dolores Costello, Ann Smyrner, Luise Rainer, Anna Massey, Evelyn Ankers, Ruth Gordon, Eva Dahlbeck, Ansa Ikonen, Diana Wynyard, Patricia Neal, Etta Lee, Gloria Stuart, Arletty, Dorothy McGuire, Mitzi Gaynor, Gwen Verdon, Maria Schell, Lili Damita, Ethel Moses, Gloria Holden, Kay Thompson, Jeanne Crain, Edna May Oliver, Lili Liliana, Ruth Chatterton, Giulietta Masina, Claire Bloom, Dinah Sheridan, Carroll Baker, Brenda de Banzie, Milú, Hertha Thiele, Hanka Ordonówna, Lillian Roth, Jane Powell, Carol Ohmart, Betty Garrett, Kalina Jędrusik, Edana Romney, Geraldine Fitzgerald, Kay Kendall, Ruth Hussey, Véra Clouzot, Jadwiga Smosarska, Marge Champion, Mary Astor, Ann Harding, María Casares, Maureen O'Sullivan, Mildred Natwick, Michèle Morgan, Romy Schneider, Elisabeth Bergner, Celeste Holm, Betty Hutton, Susan Peters, Mehtab, Leslie Caron, Anna Sten, Janet Munro, Nataša Gollová, Eve Arden, Ida Lupino, Regina Linnanheimo, Sonja Henie, and Terry (what a good girl)

ROUND TWO BEAUTIES:

Evelyn Nesbit, Thelma Todd, Tura Satana, Helen Gibson, Maureen O'Hara, Rocío Dúrcal, Mary Nolan, Lois Maxwell, Maggie Smith, Zulma Faiad, Ursula Andress, Musidora, Delphine Seyrig, Marian Marsh, Leatrice Joy, Sharon Tate, Pina Menichelli, Teresa Wright, Shelley Winters, Lee Remick, Jane Wyman, Martita Hunt, Barbara Bates, Susan Strasberg, Marie Bryant, Diana Rigg, Jane Birkin, Rosalind Russell, Vanessa Redgrave, Brigitte Helm, Gloria Grahame, Rosemary Clooney, Bebe Daniels, Constance Bennett, Lilian Bond, Ann Dvorak, Jeanette Macdonald, Pouri Banayi, Raquel Welch, Vilma Bánky, Dorothy Malone, Olive Thomas, Celia Johnson, Moira Shearer, Priscilla Lane, Dolores del Río, Ann Sothern, Françoise Rosay, June Allyson, Carole Lombard, Jeni Le Gon, Takako Irie, Barbara Steele, Claudette Colbert, Lalita Pawar, Asta Nielsen, Sandra Milo, Maria Montez, Mae West, Alma Rose Aguirre, Bibi Andersson, Joan Blondell, Anne Bancroft, Elsa Lanchester, Nita Naldi, Suchitra Sen, Dorothy Van Engle, Elisabeth Welch, Esther Williams, Loretta Young, Margueritte De La Motte, Ita Rina, Constance Talmadge, Margaret Lockwood, Barbara Bedford, Josette Day, Stefania Sandrelli, Jane Russell, Doris Dowling, Zsa Zsa Gabor, Donna Reed, Ruby Dee, Diana Sands, Billie Burke, Kyōko Kagawa, Françoise Dorléac, Hend Rostom, Monica Vitti, Lilian Harvey, Marjorie Main, Jeanne Moreau, Lola Flores, Ann Blyth, Janet Gaynor, Jennifer Jones, Margaret Sullavan, Sadhana, Ruby Myers, Lotus Long, Honor Blackman, Marsha Hunt, Debbie Reynolds, Michèle Mercier, Irene Dunne, Jean Arthur, Judy Holliday, Tippi Hedren, Susse Wold, Vera-Ellen, Carmelita González, Nargis Dutt, Purnima, Harriet Andersson, Yvonne De Carlo, Miroslava Stern, Sheila Guyse, Helen, Margaret Dumont, Betty Grable, Joan Bennett, Jane Greer, Judith Anderson, Liv Ullman, Vera Zorina, Joan Fontaine, Silvana Mangano, and Lee Ya-Ching

ROUND THREE ELECTRIFIERS:

Jean Hagen, Sumiko Mizukubo, Mary Philbin, Ann-Margret, Margaret Rutherford, Claudia Cardinale, Eleanor Parker, Jessie Matthews, Theresa Harris, Brigitte Bardot, Alla Nazimova, Faye Dunaway, Marion Davies, Anna Magnani, Theda Bara, Myrna Loy, Kay Francis, Fay Wray, Barbra Streisand, Bette Davis, Hideko Takamine, France Nuyen, Claudine Auger, Miriam Hopkins, Maylia Fong, Samia Gamal, Maude Fealy, Machiko Kyō, Sharmila Tagore, Lucille Ball, Ginger Rogers, Juanita Moore, Anna Fougez, Waheeda Rehman, Ruan Lingyu, Nina Mae McKinney, Ethel Waters, Nadira, Olivia de Havilland, Abbey Lincoln, Louise Beavers, Agnes Moorehead, Lana Turner, Norma Shearer, Maria Falconetti, Reiko Sato, Marie Doro, Clara Bow, Margaret Lindsay, Catherine Denueve, Madhabi Mukherjee, Rosaura Revueltas, Hu Die, Mary Pickford, Fredi Washington, Louise Brooks, Leonor Maia, Merle Oberon, Paulette Goddard, Vivien Leigh, Francine Everett, Savitri, Tita Merello, and Meena Kumari

ROUND FOUR STUNNERS:

Judy Garland, Dorothy Dandridge, Yoshiko Yamaguchi, Marilyn Monroe, Irene Papas, Lupe Vélez, Pola Negri, Gene Tierney, Barbara Stanwyck, Gina Lollobrigida, Lena Horne, Nutan, Jean Seberg, Kim Novak, Gladys Cooper, Tallulah Bankhead, Linda Darnell, Julie Andrews, Carmen Sevilla, Gloria Swanson, Glynis Johns, Anne Baxter, Angela Lansbury, Anita Ekberg, Toshia Mori, Deborah Kerr, Hazel Scott, Chelo Alonso, Cyd Charisse, Nancy Kwan, Devika Rani, Shima Iwashita, and Anouk Aimée

ROUND FIVE SMOKESHOWS:

Setsuko Hara, Pearl Bailey, Joan Crawford, Madhubala, Marpessa Dawn, Keiko Awaji, Rita Hayworth, Veronica Lake, Ava Gardner, Greta Garbo, Grace Kelly, Xia Meng, Suraiya, Natalie Wood, María Félix, and Mbissine Thérèse Diop

ROUND SIX SEXY LADIES:

Marilyn Monroe, Sophia Loren, Vyjyanthimala, Jane Fonda, Katharine Hepburn, Josephine Baker, Elizabeth Taylor, and Ingrid Bergman

QUARTER FINALIST GLAMAZONS:

Audrey Hepburn, Marlene Dietrich, Anna May Wong, and Lauren Bacall

SEMIFINALIST ICONS:

Rita Moreno, Diahann Carroll

FINALIST FABULOSITY:

Hedy Lamarr

ULTIMATE CHAMPION OF THE HOT & VINTAGE MOVIE WOMAN TOURNAMENT:

Eartha Kitt

[happilyobsessing]

Rook Development

Basics Name: Weiler 'Rook' De Riva Age: 30 years old Race: Human (Free Marcher - Ansburg) Class: Rogue Initial Specialisation: Duelist Gender: Cisgender woman Sexuality: Heterosexual

✮ ✮ ✮

Parentage & Siblings Weiler was taken into the 'care' of the Crows at far too young an age to recall her parents, but she was born to poor tenant farmers who already had six other mouths to feed. With the crops failing and the hovel rotting at the beams it wasn't only the damp that spread. Fear clung to the family better than the rags that they wore.

The summer Weiler turned three, her father suffered a horrific injury after his leg was shattered by their aging horse that left him unable to work. The family limped through the harvest, relying on the charity of neighbours that were hardly any better off than they were, until the cruel reality of winter struck and Weiler's parents made a decision that would set the events of her life in stone.

Making the long trek to the nearest town, listening to the excited babble of her daughter, Weiler's mother tried her best to commit the feeling of her tiny daughter's hand to memory. In the marketplace, whilst her child played with sticks and tried to waddle after farmers' pigs, Weiler's mother pleaded with strangers to buy her child for a handful of coppers.

Just as she gave up hope, a man with an accent that made her think of warm sun dropped a purse of silver into her trembling hand with a smile. "Every little one deserves a full belly, yes?"

Pressing her forehead to his hands in gratitude, Weiler's mother wept. Her family were safe for now and her daughter, she prayed, would grow up never knowing hunger.

Little did she know that the pain of hunger would be a ripple in the ocean of Weiler's life.

[meredoubt]

Thinking about Dirge Ingellvar being the Mournwatch, Lucanis-romancing run. And Dirge de Riva being the Crow, Emmrich-romancing run. Is it the same character? Sure, they're both my Baldur's Gate 3 guy, my wet pathetic little paladin. But importantly!

I keep going back and forth on who he'll romance first, same as Asher. And I think it's just both my guys each get two runs. Same with my Veiljumper/Warden mage. Each character is a class, but each character has two origins and probably two romances, I suppose.

Tbh. I can't get away from the idea, no matter how any generic Mournwatcher is raised, right. That that character is going to be healthier than any Crow. Like its not about individuals, tho i know thats me oversimplifying when every person is unique. But i can't get away from the ethos of the order of each. The...maturity and solemnity required to be in the Mournwatch, as I approach it, at least...the realizations you have to sit with (and also that like, you're not an abused murderer for coin or country, right)...i can't get away from the idea that a Crow/Crow relationship feels like traumabonding. Or that two Mournwatchers will be too steady, too drama free lmao. Like i feel like two Mournwatchers are the rocksolid weird goth couple who have been going to the same farmers market every Sunday for twenty years.

I'm a fan of conflict but also healing through being seen and gently shaped by other people. But, idk. Maybe that's my calling talking, right, maybe it's what deathcare means to me as a field. I'm sure we'll get Addams family/the Munsters kooky shit but to me...it feels...gentle and reassuring. Mournwatchers are caretakers. Shepherds. That feels steady for either Lucanis (as Dirge who was raised by a loving necromancer family would he), or the version of Dirge that is Dust (which frankly represents the Baldur's Gate 3 version of the character, howling and lashing). I think Crow/Mournwatcher feels like an extremely natural pairing, tho I admit I may be biased.

[byneddiedingo]

A Martinez and Gary Farmer in Powwow Highway (Jonathan Wacks, 1988)

Cast: A Martinez, Gary Farmer, Amanda Wyss, Joanelle Romero, Geoff Rivas, Roscoe Born, Wayne Waterman, Margo Kane, Sam Vlahos, John Trudell, Wes Studi, Graham Greene. Screenplay: David Seals, Janet Heaney, Jean Stawarz, based on a novel by Seals. Cinematography: Toyomichi Kurita. Production design: Cynthia Sowder. Film editing: Jim Stewart. Music: Barry Goldberg. 

If you like the series Reservation Dogs, you ought to like Powwow Highway. To my mind (white, male, aged) these comic works get closer to capturing the Native American experience than do more earnest movies like Dances With Wolves (Kevin Costner, 1994) and Killers of the Flower Moon (Martin Scorsese, 2023), which rely too heavily on the white man's point of view. As the title suggests, it's a road movie, and as with any good road movie, the travelers are an odd couple. Buddy Red Bow (A Martinez) is a hot-tempered activist, trying to stymie the latest corporate takeover of land on the Northern Cheyenne Indian Reservation. Philbert Bono (Gary Farmer) is a corpulent, easy-going eccentric, enthralled by Native American myths and legends. When Buddy's sister is arrested on trumped-up charges in Santa Fe, New Mexico, he persuades Philbert to drive him there to get her released. Philbert has recently acquired (via a trade for some marijuana) an ancient wreck of a car that he refers to as his "pony" and calls Protector. Despite Buddy's insistence on going straight to Santa Fe, he can't keep Philbert from getting sidetracked onto locations associated with Native American history. The result is an engaging blend of farce and travelogue, with a provocative, sometimes bittersweet point of view. Farmer's creation of the endearing Philbert, a fine blend of sweet and stubborn, of naive and canny, is a remarkable performance. Martinez has just the right hair-trigger quality as Buddy, and the supporting cast, which includes bit parts for the then-unknown Wes Studi and Graham Greene (particularly good as an aphasic Vietnam veteran), is wonderful. The "happy ending" is by-the-book, but well-deserved nevertheless. 

[ladymisteria]

Diego & Alejandro De la Vega’s Moments

Don Alejandro, to Diego: No, no… You're the one who broke the story! And Rivas? The return of the farmers' money? And the timely donation from the alcalde's office, right? I'm proud of you, son.

Season 2, Episode 6 - Freedom of the Press.

[srivas]

𓂅  AND NOW I FEEL ALIVE, BUT NOT FOR LONG ⦂ STEVIE RIVAS.

meet estella ❝ stevie ❞ rivas — aged twenty nine, cis woman, she / hers pronouns. musician. residing in the coral coast neighborhood of fairford, washington. single. portrayed by selena gomez. penned by willow.

FULL BIOGRAPHY ❋ STATISTICS ❋ CONNECTIONS ❋ FULL NAVIGATION

𓂅   GENERAL INFORMATION .

full name / nickname: estella valory rivas ( legally had her first name changed to stevie, no one other aside her birth parents calls her estella )

age / date of birth: twenty-nine, born on april 9, 1994

zodiac sign: aries sun, pisces moon, sagittarius rising

gender: cis woman ( she/her/hers )

place of birth: miami, florida

current residence: coral coast

sexual / romantic orientations: bisexual biromantic

occupation: musician

𓂅    PERSONALITY BREAKDOWN .

goals / desires: staying sober, maintaining a work / life balance that is conducive to her desire to be productive and her mental health, repairing her outlook on relationships, finding and maintaining the connection she so desperately seeks, finding a space where she can be open and honest about her life without the lingering fear that it is being manipulated for sales or a public persona's sake.

fears: loneliness for the remainder of her life, being buried alive, losing the people she cares about most and loves in permanent and irreparable ways, losing touch with herself and not being able to bounce back from it, house fires.

hobbies: playing guitar / piano, producing her own music, painting, cooking even if it is to little avail, writing poetry & songs, going for walks or runs especially on the beach, smoking weed, playing with the cats down at sweet whiskers whenever she's stuck in a funk, crocheting, drawing, trying to keep plants alive even though she's the farthest thing from a green thumb. 

likes: getting tattoos, being surrounded by other people ( even if it isn't always the healthiest choice ), having someone play with her hair, jo malone candles, scrapbooking in her journal with polaroids and other random mementos that hold no value but mean something to her, french fries from mcdonald's, peppermint hot chocolate at christmastime, creating a song that gets stuck in your head, having complete control, the scent of sawdust, grocery shopping at a farmer's market, the smell of the ocean, traveling the world, consignment shopping, picking her nail polish off after a show. 

dislikes: the idea of superiority and using that as leverage over others, the scent of vaseline, the texture of wool, having to use hotel shampoo/conditioner/soap, invasions of privacy, ignorance, forgetting her password and then having to reset it but then the website telling her she can't use her previous password, having to answer her phone.

hogwarts house: slytherin.

𓂅   FAMILY TREE .

parents: mateo rivas and amanda stohks neé de león

sibling(s): none.

pet(s): none.

𓂅    HEADCANONS .

somebody cue up this is me trying by taylor swift

still smokes weed (claims it’s medicinal) and drinks alcohol in moderation, but has been clean re: narcotics for a month now.

is A Musician with reason: why talk about your feelings when you could just write them into a song and pretend they don’t exist beyond that? is the passive aggressive type, bottles things up and simmers. 

big fitness junkie; she goes for a walk or run every day and, at some point in the very near future, would like to run one of those 5k things.

fluent in both english and spanish. 

incredibly good at math, her worst subject in school was social studies. it bored her to utter tears.

is the person who pulls over on the side of the road to try to help out animals because she has such a soft spot for them.

all of her tattoos are either self drawn or were written out for her by someone of significance.  

being in the kitchen and cooking has become a tactile sort of therapy for her during sobriety. she loves trying new recipes, baking at random (all) hours. is she any good at it? not really, but it's a way for her to feel more connected to her family and replicate the same feelings that food brought her during her childhood. sometimes likes to pretend she’s on an episode of master chef. she’s a dork, your honor.

[passportapproved]

6.16.24

LISTEN TO THIS WEEK'S SHOW! GOOD NEIGHBOURS – “Keep It Up” (Some Action/Virgin, U.K.) GIRL IN RED – “New Love” (Columbia, Norway) NEON DREAMS & MATTHEW MOLE – “The Art of Letting Go” (UMG, S. Africa) SEA GIRLS – “Midnight Butterflies” (Alt Records/Believe, U.K.) KINGFISHR  – “Shadow” (Doonane Records, Ireland) ROYAL REPUBLIC – “Ain’t Got Time” (Universal Music, Sweden) ACROBVT  – "Neon" (Unsigned, U.K.) SOHODOLLS  – “What Kinda Love”(Filthy Pretty/A&G, U.K.) GIANT ROOKS – “Under Your Wings” (Universal Music, Germany) BRICE KENDALL – “Finest Garments” (Unsigned, U.S.A.)  DOTAN – “Louder” (7 Layers Music, Holland)  MIDDLE KIDS  – “The Blessings ” (EMI, Australia) FIL BO RIVA – “Lost In Life” (Vertigo/Universal Music, Germany) RHETT REPKO  – “My Love Will Stay” (Unsigned, N. America) GLASS CITIES – “Kennedy” (Unsigned, N. America) CHAPEL OF ROSES – “Cast Out To Sea” (Unsigned, N. America) GRIPPA – “Hell” (Unsigned, N. Amercia) ALFIE TEMPLEMAN – “Hello Lonely” (Chess Club/AWAL, U.K.) RED RUM CLUB – “Afternoon” (Modern Sky Records, U.K.)  THE SILVER SPOONS – “It’s Alright” (Unsigned, Czech Republic) CARAVAN PALACE – “Fool” (Wagram, France) LIME CORDIALE  – “The Big Reveal; Ou L’Hypocrite"(Chugg Music, Australia) THE DREAM MACHINE  – “Frankenstein” (Unsigned, U.K.) HOCKEY DAD  – “Base Camp” (Farmer & The Owl/BMG, Australia) DYLAN KEARNS – “All I Ever Wanted Was Your Love” (Unsigned, Ireland) KEYSIDE – “Nikita” (Modern Sky, U.K.) LAVA LA RUE – “Humanity” (Dirty Hit Records, U.K.) CORELLA – “Lady Messiah” (Corella Music, U.K.) JERUB  – “Gonna Be Okay” (Elevate Music, U.K.) BABY SAID – “Mouth Shut” (PAL Records, Italy) HOLYOAK – “The Home I Wanted” (Unsigned, Australia) MONOTRONIC – “Sun Song” (Unsigned, N. America) MASI MASI – “Cigarette Smile” (Unsigned, U.K.) ROGER GOMEZ – “Playing For Keeps” (Unsigned, Australia)

[netmassimo]

Il romanzo "Il fiume della vita" ("To Your Scattered Bodies Go") di Philip J. Farmer è stato pubblicato per la prima volta tra il 1965 e 1966 sulla rivista "Worlds of Tomorrow" e nel 1971 come libro. Ha vinto il premio Hugo come miglior romanzo dell'anno. È il primo libro del Ciclo del Mondo del Fiume. In Italia è stato pubblicato dall'Editrice Nord nel n. 8 di "Cosmo Argento", all'interno del n. 2.1 de "I Grandi Cicli" e di "Riverworld. Il Mondo del Fiume. Libro Primo" e da Mondadori nel n. 1205 di "Urania", nel n. 115 di "Oscar Fantascienza" e ne "I Miti", tutti nella traduzione di Gabriele Tamburini.

Sir Richard Francis Burton muore nel 1890 ma si risveglia in un luogo sconosciuto nel quale si trova circondato da altre persone che, proprio come lui, sono nude e totalmente glabre ma lui sembra l'unico sveglio. Sta cercando di capire cosa stia succedendo quando tutti vengono gettati in una vallata vicina a un fiume.

Le persone nella vallata includono un alieno proveniente dal sistema di Tau Ceti arrivato sulla Terra all'inizio del XXI secolo e un Neanderthal. Tutti raccontano di essere morti e di essersi ritrovati lì. Sulla riva del fiume, sembrano esserci persone dovunque, chi può aver creato un ambiente del genere e aver fatto risorgere tutti gli esseri senzienti che sono mai esistiti sulla Terra?

[crispyanonart]

Everyone probably knew this already but if you're late like me definitely try this SDV portrait maker [x] these are my farmers Riva and Scout 🤠

[twins2994]

Twins Comeback To Win In Spring Finale!

Twins 7 Pirates 5 W-Scherff (1-0) L-Minaya (0-1) SV-Phillips (1)

The Minnesota Twins closed out their Spring Training campaign this afternoon. The team headed up to Bradenton to play the Pirates before heading to Kansas City today. Tyler Mahle and Johan Oviedo three up zeroes for the first three innings. Carlos Correa and Max Kepler started a fourth inning rally with singles. Kyle Farmer doubled home a run and the Twins were on the board first. The PIrates answered in the bottom of the fourth as Oneil Cruz led-off with a double to right. He went to third on a groundout and Andrew McCutchen hit a sac fly to center to even the game at one apiece. The Twins came right back in the fifth as Ryan Jeffers led-off with a double. Michael Taylor singled to right and Alex Isola hit into a double play, which plated a run. The PIrates would come right back in the sixth when Austin Hedges singled and Maikol Escotto walked. The next batter, Canaan Smith-Njigba smacked a Jordan Brink change-up out to left for a three-run homer. This put Pittsburgh up 4-2 in a blink of an eye. The PIrates weren’t done yet as Javier Rivas singled to right and a wild pitch moved him to second. Ji-Man Choi hit a run-scoring single to right to extend the Pirates lead to three. The Twins anwered with a Seth Gray walk and a Tony Wolters ground-rulde double. Willie Joe Garry hit an RBI groundout and the Twins pulled within two. The Twins would rally again in the eighth as Will Holland singled with two outs. Anthony Prato tripled him home and Tanner Schobel walked. Seth Gray blasted a Juan Minaya fastball out to right-center for a three-run homer and the Twins took the lead back. Seth Nordlin had a perfect eighth and Alex Phillips put up a zero in the ninth as the Twins beat the Pirates in the spring finale. 

-Final Thoughts- Tyler Mahle looked good in his last start before the spring. He threw four innings and allowed a run on one hit with three strikeouts. Hunter McMahon threw a scoreless fifth, Jordan Brink gave up four runs in the sixth, and Alex Scherff put up a zero in the seventh. Seth Nordlin had a 1-2-3 eighth and Alex Phillips had a scoreless ninth. Kyle Farmer and Tony Wolters had two hits to lead the way. The Twins hit 3-for-11 with runners in scoring position and left six men on base. The Twins will head from Bradenton to Kansas City for a workout at Kauffman Stadium tomorrow. Pablo Lopez will face Zack Greinke on Opening Day on Thursday afternoon. 

-Chris Kreibich-

[mysteryideasgroup]

MSA X Amphibia Calamity Gemstones

Bart the Farmer - pink magenta gemstone

Josh the Soldier - orange gemstone

Stuart the Ranger - black gray gemstone

For @laurasanchez36

All belongs to my msa ocs sonas AU Alternate Universe Crossover Amphibia AU

Bart Pepper/Minnie as Anne Boonchuy

Josh Rivas as Sasha Waybright

Stuart belongs to her msa oc sona AU Alternate Universe Crossover Amphibia AU

Stuart as Marcy Wu

[wokeastroke]

Oubliette

Tirian had never expected to own a dungeon. He never saw the need. When a man kills, when a man steals, he is either killed or beaten within an inch of his life. Why would he want to keep them? Why torment them further when a beheading was arguably cleaner, less expensive, easier?

But the beast had long since turned his mind into it’s stomping grounds. It’s violent and eternal brain set on very simple and easily accomplished goals. It recognized the enemies about it, the weak ones, the loyal ones. And it recognized itself. When Tirian’s black, dead end eyes met the shining, glittering ones of Riva Ban’dinoriel, there was kinship. The predator that had taken her was a cousin, a sister in murder that thrives on the more subtle methods of domination. In a way it felt weaker, it’s slithering, snake-like appearance easy to stomp underfoot. But never would the bull stomp upon the snake, for fear of the poison in its fangs.

“Oh Tirian, do not look at me with those dark eyes. I’m tired of feeling like you’re going to sling me upon my table and ravish me. Or kill me.”

Tirian scoffed at the doctor, sitting upon her much-to-big leather chair, writing in her leather bound notebook. He was, conversely, seated on a hard wooden stool. Of his own choosing, as before they ever descended into the bowels of Ghostlynn, he needed clarity. It appeared a hard wooden surface under his ass was helpful in that regard. “Never either, Riva. I adore you but I wouldn’t want to break you. And gods know we’re close as can be without blood in the mix.”

Riva made a noise of annoyance. She never enjoyed being told she could not handle something, even if it was a coupling she had no desire to enjoy. Sex was a tool, as much as any drug, and only one had ever enjoyed Riva’s attentions without ulterior motives driving the doctor’s movements. The very thought brought a sigh to her precious lips and a purring from within her, her own beast remembering and appeasing itself with that memory. The doctor scratched a few more things into her notebook, in a script that she’d developed for note taking of this caliber. The symbols were foreign, the entire book looking more like the scratching of a madwoman than the murderous, bloody examination of a gift she and the broad elf before her shared.

A gift, she called it. As it was. It was through the beast that she’d survived being locked underground with a beast of nightmares, it’s mouth vomiting viscous purple slime and it’s wails loud and haunting enough to drive most mad. She tittered to herself, drawing a flick of an ear from Tirian. Perhaps it HAD maddened her. What other than a madwoman would claw her way through half a mile of dirt, stone, and mud with nothing but her nails? She’d broken, that terrible day. And then she’d been remade. A darling, precious doctor turned into a... well.

Tirian cleared his throat, pulling her from her musings. As much as he enjoyed sitting still and watching her quill’s large and ridiculous feather bob and bounce, he did not come down here to watch it. He was here for another reason entirely, one that left his knee bouncing impatiently and his brows furrowing further with each minute he was made to wait.

Riva was the master of the Oubliette, a dark pit where the worst of the Blackrose Duchy found themselves. The worst that could not be turned towards something useful of course, or be caught and gifted to the more elegant dungeons of Vynlorin. Killers had their place, beneath Lord Felo’dorah. If they could not be tempered, would not submit to the king of murderers, they were no better than rabid dogs. They were worse, as even Primrose had been capable of controlling the hounds of the woods. No, this scum had no purpose other than one, one he and Riva had begun to take part in together. A strange sort of bonding, one part madness, another part hunger. Altogether, purely violent. Tirian had come to make good on this violence, to enjoy it to its fullest in a place where not even the guard could save their shared prey.

“You’re taking too long. Make your notes when we’re finished, but I’m hungry now and I know you are too. Get up, let’s go.”

Without waiting for her, Tirian rose to his feet. The room they were in was dark and cold, burrowed and constructed beneath the grounds of Ghostlynn by a thousand worker rats, all vehemently loyal to their god-queen. Tirian’s lip curled up, exposing his teeth in disgust as the vermin skittered about, on various tasks for her. They gave him a wide berth, respectful distance. They were loyal, yes, but not stupid. Even the lowliest rodents knew predators when they saw them, and he was more deranged than any they knew. Riva stood soon after, dusting her already pristine surgeon’s scrubs off. She gave another sigh of annoyance, but he could see it in her eyes as she gifted him a small key. Her shining, predatory eyes. She wanted this as badly as he did, perhaps more so. He could contain his hunger for a time, a week, two. But madness could not be contained. He knew for a fact that Riva fed her beast multiple times a week, sometimes twice daily she indulged her devilish delights. For a moment he wondered what it would be like, to be beneath her scalpel. He shuddered. There was sharp pain, the drag of nails or gnashing of teeth. And then there was the clinical precision of the Good Doctor’s blades. They were not alike.

He inserted the small key into a hole within the center of the wall. Twice to the left, once to the right, pull, once more to the right, push. A delicate system of gears and pulleys allowed even someone as small and thin as Riva to push the great slab of stone inwards. The wails began almost immediately. Men and women screamed and writhed in their cells, the light of even the small office unbearable after so long spent in the dark. Cells lined both sides of a long hall, rats still scampered about in the endless task of feeding, watering, and ventilating the shit-stink of the place. The last task, it seemed, was near impossible.

Their prisoners howled and cursed and gnashed their teeth. Knowing only the beast eyes of rats, their swarming caretaker, they had long forgotten the sensation of foreign bodies. However the malice was palpable. Neither the lord nor the doctor ever came here for good things. Tirian started down the hallway, head held high, as if to rise about the scents and sights of filth and mud. It wasn’t that he was disgusted, no, he was their lord. Even the prisoners of his lands would see him as he must be. Strong, tall, untouchable. They did not deserve his kindness, so none of it graced his face.

“Tirian, if you would, our subject for this morning is a man seen poisoning the crops of your furthest village. Crops that you know are already meager. Their output has been slowed by at least half, and will likely be so until Primrose is sent to usher new growth.” She spoke in a crisp and clipped tone, all pretenses lost as she had already given into the snake in her eyes. It cared for nothing but it’s venom and the venom’s effect.

“So close to war, all crops will already be taxed to feed our men, the alliance’s men. Do they not know that they will simply die second?”

“He speaks in gibberish, most days, yet appears to believe that a life served in undeath is payment enough for his services. Immortality, it seems, is too holy a grail to give up. Even if the means by which it is given are unholy.”

“He is mistaken if he believes his life will be anything other than cut short.”

They lapsed into silence as Tirian led them down the damp and dark hall. The wails of the damned had lessened now, returning to the pitiful mewling, the animals crouching low in their burrows in an attempt to escape the ire of the twin pair of beasts in their proximity. None had the mind left to hurl even insults. A result of the mixture of drugs and restorative that was mixed into their food by the very doctor that stalked them. Enough to ensure they died only when it was wished. At a short clearing of Riva’s throat, both stopped before the cell of a man dressed in ragged farmer’s wear.

It appeared he had not been given a change of clothing when he arrived. None the entered this hell were. His beard had grown unruly and matted, his hair hanging long and dirty and in his face. He did not react as the gate was unlocked and opened, a large and intricate lock falling to the ground with various metal noises. That alone seemed to startle the man. He rose from the ground, a mad dash for the entrance that only served to earn him a fist to his jaw. He fell backward, hitting the ground hard asTirian rubbed at him knuckles, growling slightly as the popped and cracked from the surprise usage.

From the ground, the farmer could only look up and blink in the darkness as the pair entered the cell and stood side by side, looking down on him. Riva spoke first.

“Hello, Mister Demps. I must admit you are looking worse for wear. It has only been a week since your internment, you know. What have you been doing to yourself?” She was sure to keep Tirian within fleeing distance. Proud as she might be, she knew her physical limitations well enough to know to avoid being within grabbing distance. Better to simply watch as Tirian worked, until he was prepared for her own brand of feeding.

And work Tirian did. He stepped forward as the good doctor spoke, taking the bruised and weakened farmer by the throat and twisting his arm behind his back. With this control over the mute fellow, the elf was able to shove him against a nearby wall, holding him steady with a steady application of pain.

“Quiet, isn’t he?” He observed as the man only gasped and murmured. A turn of the head and the night eyes given by the void clarified the reason behind this trait, however. “You took his tongue.”

Riva tittered as she worked behind him, her voice the only sound that told that he was not alone in the cell. “He shouted awful, hurtful things when he was placed within the cell. You must forgive me, but insults must be met with punishment. I believe he has long learned that screaming will not aid him. Tirian didn’t look convinced, even as the doctor arrived beside him, a silver syringe held between delicate, gloves fingers. The needle proceeded dreadfully slow to Demps’ bulging neck, likely for her own enjoyment. The bull didn’t at all kind, as the fear radiating from the farmer was enticing in its rawness. What did the doctor do to the fellow that could neuter him so? He found he did not want to ask.

Instead he breathed in, the antennae-like tendrils on his head weithin as they soaked up the raw terror from their meal. They always seemed more lively during feedings. Then, all at once, the needle found Demps’ carotid artery. Even to the lord, this seemed ill advised, but she was the expert here. The blue liquid pumped from the syringe and into their shared prey’s bloodstream, diffusing almost immediately, traveling to the brain, seeking the neurons that would activate-

Tirian groaned aloud as the concoction worked its magic. The sudden burst of vile and primal fear that coated the cell made his legs shake. The light gasp from behind him was evidence of Riva’s own reaction to the stench. The aroma he’d come to associate with energy, peace, sleep. Food. He stepped back, throwing the farmer to the ground and standing away. His shoulders heaved with his heavy breaths, his head growing light. Riva stepped beside him, grasping one of his strong arms as her own sort of feeding took it’s toll. It always did, for her. Her body was weak, as if her mind was the only muscle she sought to improve. Besides her ass, of course.

He found himself intoxicated as the human scrambled to the wall of the small cell, turning his face and closing his eyes as the wails and moans began to leave his throat unbidden. He looked down, noticing a tightening in his pants as his heartbeat quickened. He always got like this after feeding.

Riva fared no better. Her legs failed her, and only her grip on Tirian’s muscles arm was keeping her afloat in this sea of control. She didn’t care for fear, emotion, especially human emotion, was a waste unless utilized. But the sight of her control, her mastery of chemicals and minds, was orgasmic. Her tongue escaped her open mouth. Her tongues. She’d long ago split the muscle in two simply because she thought it would look good. Her smile was gone, replaced by a look that any would describe as hungry. Horny. But neither wanted sex. They wished to feed. And only when Riva finally patted his arm, signaling that she was fit to burst with the emotion of control, of subjugation, did Tirian raise a hand to the man against the wall.

Long ago, he had had to be close to his meal to devour them. His eyes and mouth had been the only point fear could flow into him, where sustenance could be gained. But he’d grown, since then. He was a bull, a lord, and he would not sully himself by coming closer during his feast of the senses. The power radiating from him coalesced in a simple point upon his palm. It flowed from his eyes, over his tongue and teeth. Cold and dark and sinful, it washed across the room at an unspoken command. Eventually, the energies that eddied and slithered across the ground met the prey, as it sat there and begged the gods for forgiveness with a tongue that could no longer speak. Tirian answered, instead.

“Do not beg the gods for release. In this moment, we are your gods. Tell whatever deity takes you who sent you to them.”

The draining process was swift, pulling the raw mass of terror from within his soul and sucking it across the cell. It was an ugly form of writhing screams and dripping piss and tears. The very essence of fear and anxiety rolled within the air until it was dragged back into the lord’s eyes. The sound was not unlike a predator breaking the bones of its catch to suck the sweet marrow away. It was was gone in an instant, and Tirian’s eyes and mouth were as ‘normal’ as a void elf’s could be an instant later. His hand dropped as he turned away, uncaring of the outcome of the broken, shell of a beast that sat within the cell.

Demps lay against the far wall, having curled into a ball to protect himself. When the attack was over, he merely sat up and stared at the pair. There was no life in his eyes, no pain, only the clear confusion that one feels when they know they must feel something else. He would never feel this anxiety again, damned as Tirian was to a life without fear. This proved a blessing, however, as Riva leveled a pistol to his chest.

The shot rang out, answered by the cries and screams of the forgotten, freshly reminds that beasts stalked their unwilling home. Their prison. The hole blown into the man’s chest cavity was ragged and wide, large enough for a rat to crawl within. It appeared this would not be far off, as Tirian could already hear the screeches of hunger and skittering paws.

“I’m leaving. See you again in two weeks, Riva.” He murmured before stalking off into the darkness. Riva called back a moment later, speaking in her regular, energetic, sing song voice.

“Oh do wait for me, Tirian! Who knows what sorts of monsters lay here, hiding in the dark?” Doctor Riva Ban’dinoriel tittered as she stepped lightly, neatly skipping from the Oubliette.

[imtherain]

Rose of Otherworld: Chapter One

Heyo

So it’s been a hot minute since I’ve posted and I don’t have the time or emotional bandwidth to tell yall why. In this time of trouble and need, a hero emerged, named Geralt of Riva, the White Wolf, this sexy motherf-er that will not get out of my head. So here you go, chapter one of my currently 30k long fanfic that I’ve been working on all month. It is still in progress, there will be smut, singing, yearning, magic, monsters and gwent. I’m mixing game and netflix styling as I see fit, adding and mistreating lore and locations as I please and this is shamelessly a self insert fic. Not sorry. Full stop. 

Tagging @turtlepated because she asked for this to get posted even though I was on the fence about it XD 

 Anywho

Chapter One: The Adventure that is Waking Up

Warnings: first person, self insert, minor assault stuff, PG-13 at best.

I woke up on the ground, nauseous and aching. If it weren’t for the rock in my back, I might have laid there until the spinning in my head calmed down, but I needed to move. I sat up with a groan and looked around.

There were trees, but they were larger and older than the ones I was used to. There was sky. That was the same. The air though, it felt different. As though it had never been touched by man before. Which was absurd, of course. I was of man, and here I was, touching it. The wind blew around me and for a moment I was deafened with the sound of leaves.

I stood, still shaky though I couldn’t remember why. The last thing I remembered was going to sleep last night, wishing for a new life. For a better life. For one that had adventure, and magic, and a charming someone to sweep me off my feet. But now, I was in the woods, which I shouldn’t be, and I had no idea how I got there or where I was in relation to my bed, my normal, boring ass life, and all my wishes for adventure.

I stood there for a long time, wondering if this was just some weird dream. But it didn’t feel like a dream. It didn’t feel like my normal life, sure, but it definitely wasn’t a dream. I heard horses from behind me. I decided if there were people, maybe I could figure out where I was.

I learned quickly that this Dorothy wasn’t in Kansas anymore.

___

The people with the horses turned out to be a farming family headed to town. They were nice enough to give me a ride with them into town. I sat in the back of their wagon wondering with growing terror, why they were in a wagon and not a car.

The family didn’t comment on my odd attire, leggings, boots, a simple long sleeved t-shirt, so I didn’t comment on theirs. They all looked like movie extras that would be classified as “peasants”.

The town was also straight out of reenactment of medieval times. Something was for sure not right. I thanked the farmer family and they continued on with their business. 

I walked around the town for a while, trying to figure out what to do. I was in another time, maybe another place all together. I was also really close to a panic attack which would not help me at all. How was this possible? It wasn’t. But here I was and all my senses were screaming otherwise.

“Hey, girl, you alright?” I turned to see a vendor waving me over. He was a burly looking man, leather apron, dirty face and beard.

“I’m not sure,” I managed. “I don’t know where I am.” 

“You’re in Givial,” He told me. He gave me a once over. “Where you from, girl?”

“Umm,” I couldn’t think of what to tell him. This clearly wasn’t a reenactment and if it was, no one was breaking character by taking a shower. This seemed too real. “Far away I have a feeling,”

“Well, you shouldn’t be wandering in the streets like you are, there’s an Inn down the way, lots of travelers come through there. Maybe one of them can aid ye,” He said. 

“Oh, um, thank you,” I told him, looking down the way he pointed. There was a big building with a sign that had two axes and a barrel on it.

The man just sort of waved me off and I headed towards the Inn.

I was uneasy as I made my way to a small table by the fire inside. There were mostly men in the tavern, except for the woman at the bar and two who sat near the stairs that wore opened topped dresses that, if I didn’t know better, were probably whores. The woman at the bar watched as I looked at the fire. This adventure was about to go one of two ways and I probably didn’t have much of a say in it.

A man took the seat opposite me. Here we go.

“You’re a strange looking lass, ain’t she Harlod?” He said to the man who stood off to his right.

“She sure is, Beltry. I bet she ain’t from around here.” The second man replied. Both wore matching grins full of dirty teeth and bad intentions. They could have been brothers.

“Can I help you guys with something?” I asked, trying to keep my voice from shaking. I knew I wouldn’t like anything these men had to offer me.

The men chuckled and a third man, who I hadn’t seen yet, hit me from behind.

I woke with a headache I remembered. I was in a room, somewhere in the Inn I imagined, and the three men had tied me to the bed post. 

Luckily, they didn’t seem to want anything from me that required my pants coming off, so I was at least thankful for that. The three men were debating what to do with me now that they had me.

“She’s clearly someone important, look at her, she’s fat as a goose,” One said. I would have rolled my eyes at the observation had I not been terrified of what they were going to do to me.

“Look at how she’s dressed, maybe she’s a Mage,” Mage? There was magic of some sort here? Maybe I could trick them into thinking I was a mage and they’s let me go for fear of my wrath.

“Nah, she would have fought back more if she were a Mage,” That made it sound more like real magic and like I stood no chance of fooling them.

“Well, good morning sunshine,” The first man, Beltry, said. ”Why don’t you tell us who you are and who we can ask ransom from for your safe return?”

“I’m no one,” I managed. He slapped me across the face and it stung way more than movies had suggested. I gasped out loud. “Fuck, I said I’m no one.”

“Why would we believe you, huh? Just wandering around here like a lost pup, clean as a whistle and fat like you’ve been taken good care of all your life? You really gonna try to tell us you’re a nobody?” I swallowed hard. I could see his point. Seems my soft waistline would earn me nothing here just as it earned me nothing back home.

“Just let me go,” I said. A desperate plea for sure.

“No,” Beltry stood and nodded to his buddies. The man I hadn’t seen earlier chuckled and came towards me. He looked like the others, dirty, mean. I shrank back and tried to get my feet under me. Beltry knocked me down again. 

No. My brain screamed. No no no. This wasn’t happening. Not like this. Not today. Not like this.

The man reached for me and I kicked at him. He grabbed my ankle in a dirty hand and chuckled.

“She’s feisty, maybe we should keep her,” His chuckle echoed through his friends. I tried to kick him off, but he held me fast. He kneeled on my ankle and I gasped because it hurt.

“Get off, go away,” I said. I was pulling on the rope around my wrists now and I was only dully aware of the burning it caused.

“Or what?” The man chuckled. He reached for my shirt. I squeezed my eyes shut when I saw him draw a blade from his belt.

“BE GONE FROM ME,” I shouted louder than I probably should have, in that voice that begged to be heard, by someone, by anyone that might help. The weight on my ankle was gone and the room was just as suddenly silent.

I opened my eyes and the men were gone. 

It was as though they had never been there at all. The only indication they had been in the room with me was the blade that laid next to my leg. It sat haphazard, as though it’d be dropped there. 

I needed to get out of this place.

I shuffled the knife down to my feet and managed to monkey it between my shoes and up to my hands. It took me longer than I wanted to cut the ropes but I freed myself before anyone came looking for me, so I was going to take that win.

I rubbed my wrists once they were free, eyes wet. I hated crying, but sometimes crying was my only response to stress. I wiped my face on my shoulder and pulled myself to my feet. I still had the knife, but nowhere to put it. My mind was reeling. Look around, something in me said. Look for something useful. Like in a videogame.

I hurried around the room as though I heard someone on the stairs. I found a small bag with five coins in it stamped with symbols I didn’t recognize, a cloak of heavy wool and a side bag which had some random things in it and a pair of leather gloves. I hoped it all belonged to the three who had brought me here, otherwise I’d feel bad for stealing it. I swung the cloak around me, pleased to find it smelled like fire smoke and not BO.

I still didn’t know where to go, but I decided anywhere but Givial would be best.

I didn’t linger on the fact that the door was still locked as I made my way into the hallway. Didn’t linger on the fact that the men had disappeared somehow, and that the lock was only lockable from the inside.

I made it down to the street and out towards the end of town I had come in on. I pulled the cloak closer, as it was getting dark now and a slight chill was in the breeze. I wasn’t dumb enough to think heading into the woods, alone, with basically no supplies, in the dark, was a good idea, but what else could I do?

I followed the path the farming family had brought me up until it was too dark to see. When I realized I wasn’t going to be able to make it much farther, I moved to the tree line, thinking I ought to bunker in until the sun came up to light my way.

I was maybe half asleep when I heard the sound of two men bickering.

“For the love of…” The first cursed in a deep timbre. “Can you not be silent for even five minutes Bard?”

“I just don’t understand why we left a perfectly good Inn that was full of perfectly good ale, and perfectly good women, to come searching in the dark for someone you didn’t even see.” The second voice was higher, but still male. It wasn’t hard to find them on the road, as they each had a lantern held aloft as they searched for someone.

“You could have stayed in Givial,” The first man said. “This is important,” I looked him up and down from my hiding spot. He was tall, muscled, and drop dead gorgeous. And he had long, silvery white hair. Two things I had a particular soft spot for. The man with him, the Bard, was smaller, but it wasn’t hard to imagine most men found themselves small in comparison to the first.

“I had to follow after you so you didn’t get jumped in the woods,” The bard replied. “Not everyone is so friendly as you, Geralt,”

“What a shame they aren’t all as silent,” Geralt cut his companion a glare. But he paused as if he heard something. Slowly, as if he knew what it would do to my blood pressure, he turned and made direct eye contact with me. I pulled myself up against the tree and took a step back towards the darkness of the forest.

“Hey look, a woman,” The bard said, genuine surprise in his voice.

“We mean you no harm,” Geralt held his hand up and the lantern out to better illuminate the ground between us. “Why not come out here so we can talk to you?’

“Who are you?” I asked. “What do you want from me?” My hands were concealed in the cloak and though they trembled, I managed to fish the blade from the side bag I’d stolen from the Inn.

“Do you not know the stories of Geralt of Rivia? The White Wolf? The Witcher who aids all of mankind against the demons in the dark?” The bard piped up, sounding incredulous.

“I don’t know anything,” I said. Sounded like either an asshole or a badass and I wasn’t sure which way I’d prefer it. “Just leave me alone,” I said. “Please.” I added.

“Did you come from Givial?” Geralt asked, ignoring the Bard. I held this Witcher’s eyes for a long time. They were gold and as beautiful as the rest of him. I wondered briefly what he saw looking at me. A scared child hiding in the woods? Tear stained cheeks and hair a hot mess?

“I’m not going back there,” I said.

“Are you a mage?” Geralt asked. He took a step towards me and I noted his movement before I turned and ran into the woods. “Shit.” He cursed, thrusting the lantern at the bard and coming after me into the trees.

I didn’t make it far before he caught me. His large hand fell on my shoulder and I spun and slashed blindly at him with my new best friend, the knife. He turned into something else when he saw my weapon. He was suddenly all angles, control, stoic and a weapon himself.

It might have been beautiful had I not been scared out of my mind.

He grabbed at my wrist and caught it. I panicked and kicked at his shin. I connected with his knee instead. He tipped to the side, taking me with him. We both landed on the ground with a thud and grunt. I got my wrist away from him long enough to try to stab him. I didn’t really want to hurt him, but I was running on adrenaline and fear, I wasn’t exactly thinking clearly.

“Peace, woman, peace!” Geralt grunted as he caught my wrist again. I clawed at him with my free hand and he caught that wrist too. He twisted my wrist to make me drop the knife, which I did with a cry. He flipped us over and pinned me down with his whole body.

“Get off of me!” I cried out, terrified of him overpowering me so easily. I didn’t claim to be strong, but I wasn’t small, and I liked to think that meant I wasn’t weak. But to a man like the one currently pressed in between my legs…oh shit he was pressed right between my legs.

“Stop squirming,” He commanded and I did, acutely aware of how warm his body was on top of mine. Oh the things I bet women did to earn his favor. To get him in this exact position but with less clothing. “If I let you up, will you come with me back to the road?”

“Geralt?” The Bard’s voice came from behind us. “Geraaaaaaalllllt?”

“Are you going to keep chasing me if I run?” I asked though I had no intention of running more at this point.

“Yes,” He said.

“I imagine you could out run me really easily,” I said, as though my inner thoughts needed be outside thoughts at this moment.

“Clearly,” Geralt agreed.

“Are you going to hurt me?” I asked, voice smaller than I would have liked it.

“Not unless you give me reason to,” Geralt said, moving off of me. My skin shivered as it acclimated to his absence. He was warm but there was something more to it. His energy felt…good. I hadn’t felt energy on someone so strongly ever before. And never without looking to feel it.

“I don’t think I could hurt you if I tried, hell, look at you, you’re basically a brick shit house,”

“Excuse me?” He raised an eyebrow at me.

“Sorry, that was supposed to be an inside thought,” I chuckled awkwardly. This was going just keep getting weirder wasn’t it?

I followed him back to the road and his Bard friend.

“You sure this is the one?” The bard asked. Geralt nodded with a grunt. He took his lantern back and began heading back to town.

“I’m not going back there,” I said. “There were men who tried to…who tried to,” I seemed to choke on whatever I was trying to convey. Both men looked at me oddly and I waved them off. “I’m not going back there. That’s the important part of this sentence.”

“Huh,” Geralt said. “Well, I paid for a night at that Inn, and I mean to sleep in a bed for once.”

“What if those men come back for me?” I asked.

“Then the Witcher himself will cut them down, just as he’s cut down so many foes before!” The bard went off on a long tangent about this man’s adventures and exploits. In a way, it did make me feel better, though I had no way to know if that had been the Bard’s intentions or not.

“Stop lying to her, Jaskier, or I’ll cut your tongue out,” Geralt said after a particularly heroic story of Geralt saving not one, not two, but three little girls from a beast of some sort. The way Geralt said it was serious but the bard just laughed him off. I had the feeling Geralt didn’t mean his threat in the slightest.

“You’d miss my singing too much for that,” The bard said. “Plus, I’ve been out here, giving you a better name. Everyone on the continent has heard of the White Wolf by now, and that means good things for you, my friend.”

“I didn’t ask you to do that,”

“So, are you like a knight then?” I asked. Both men stopped and stared at me. They exchanged glances as though they couldn’t believe I’d asked such a thing. I blushed, embarrassed. “Sorry, I guess that wasn’t the right question.”

“Do you really not know?” Geralt’s brow furrowed.

“I know absolutely nothing,” I agreed. “I don’t know where I am, or how I got here. All I know is I wanna go home.”

“And where is home?” Geralt asked.

“I’m from the US?” I offered, not hopeful he’d know what that was. His confusion was clear on his face  “The United States of America? I’m from this town called Thousand Leagues, I live in an apartment off Capitol street.” I posed the statements as a half hearted questions. The Bard and Geralt exchanged glances.

“I don’t know what any of that means,” The Bard said. “Have you hit your head?”

“Honestly, I don’t know.“ I sighed loudly and with that exaggerated shoulder shrug that told of my lack of will to carry on this way. "I woke up in the woods after falling asleep in my own bed, and now I’m here, and I’m scared.” I covered my mouth then because I hadn’t wanted to admit to that. 

“For now, let’s get back to the Inn, and rest. In the morning we can work on figuring out what to do with you.” Geralt said. He grabbed my arm and pushed me forward so that I was walking ahead of him. I huffed, but walked. 

They hadn’t even asked my name.

>>>[Chapter Two] >>>

[Masterlist]

[cattura]

Una guida esclusiva alla città di Los Angeles attraverso gli occhi di Michael Kors.

Lo stilista, recentemente impegnato in città per celebrare l’amica Kate Hudson nomitata ambasciatrice per il World Food Programme, ci ha guidato in alcuni dei suoi posti preferiti svelandoci tutti gli indirizzi imperdibili, tra tappe rinomate e perle nascoste tutte da scoprire.

La giornata di Michael Kors inizia al Peninsula Beverly Hills, l'hotel a cinque stelle dove il designer ama alloggiare quando è in città per lavoro. Bere un ice tea a bordo piscina sul rooftop dell'albergo è l'esperienza più losangelina che si possa fare.

Tra i musei preferiti di Michael Kors c'è il Getty Center, un edificio che conquista non solo per le opere d'arte custodite, ma anche per l'architettura fluida e per la vista a 360 gradi sulla città. L'ispirazione però non nasce solo dalla cultura secondo lo stilista, che ama osservare la gente al Farmers Market a West Hollywood, dove si può incontrare un mix di persone interessantissimo e stimolante.

"La caratteristica migliore per un locale è farti sentire in vacanza" ci ha svelato Michael Kors raccontandoci che quando ha tempo ama pranzare a Nobu Malibu. Il patio esterno del ristorante è vicinissimo alla riva e mangiando si può ascoltare il rumore delle onde dell'oceano. Per uno snack veloce invece, il miglior hamburger di Los Angeles potete trovarlo da The Apple Pan, un piccolo locale in stile anni Cinquanta con sgabelli in pelle e ventilatori sul soffitto.

Gli indirizzi dello shopping sono infiniti a Los Angeles: dall'atmosfera cool dei negozi di Abbot Kinney Boulevard a Venice Beach, a boutique di nicchia come Just One Eye a Hollywood, al vintage di Galerie Half a Melrose. Nessun posto però è come Rodeo Drive, una location carica di glamour cinematografico dove ogni donna può sentirsi come Julia Roberts nel film Pretty Woman.

Il posto perfetto per l'aperitivo è il bar del Tower Hotel, situato in cima a un pendio offre uno dei panorami migliori all'ora del tramonto. "I wear black and I drink white" ci ha detto Michael Kors rivelandoci che il suo drink preferito è la vodka con ghiaccio e sottolineando quanto sia di moda a Los Angeles frequentare i bar di grandi alberghi come lo Chateau Marmont e il The Beverly Hills Hotel.

Per concludere la giornata un vero classico a cena a Los Angeles è senza dubbio il Dan Tana's, un ristorante dall'atmosfera italiana dove si può incontrare Leonardo Di Caprio mentre mangia un piatto di ravioli o George Clooney con un buon bicchiere di Chianti.

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