#glace bay

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

"SEARCH FOR GUN IN N. S. SLAYING," Hamilton Spectator. November 27, 1933. Page 6. --- Inquest Held on Death of Mrs. W. Wilkinson ---- Son Says She Was Threatened By His Uncle ---- Glace Bay, N.S., Nov. 27. - (CP) - Search went forward to-day for the weapon that sent a bullet crashing through Mrs. William Wilkinson's head as she sat in a neighbour's room Thursday morning.

Police considered having a diver explore the flooded Hub colliery, suspected as a possible hiding place of the death gun. A mysterious occurrence about the old shaft on the night of the murder led to this belief.

A miner walking homeward in the early morning darkness told Chief Joseph McInnis he had seen a car drive up to the pit mouth. It stopped for a few moments and then the door slammed and it moved away.

The weapon was believed by police to be an important factor in their investigation. Mrs. Wilkinson was shot with a rifle, and a flattened soft-nose bullet was found lying on the floor near her body. Simultaneously with the murder, her husband's hunting rifle disappeared.

Brother-in-Law Held To-day Walter Wilkinson, the husband's brother, was held on a murder charge. Evidence submitted at the preliminary hearing Saturday told of quarrels between the dead woman and her brother-in-law and of a "row" in the Wilkinson home the night of her death,

Thirteen-year-old Douglas Wilkinson, who saw his mother killed, said Walter had threatened to shoot her. Before they fled to Daniel McLeod's home they had locked themselves in a bedroom and barricaded the door. He was not sure whether his uncle was carrying a gun.

[chumbuckket]

my dog being extra cute at the beach

[sonjabysonjamorgan]

my faaaaaaaaav type of dead celeb headline

[capebretonmrketing]

Find the vision correction that fits you!

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BOOK AN EYE EXAM: Contact Tamarind Optical today for all your vision care needs - Sydney River: 902-564-5332 | Glace Bay: 902-842-3333 

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Food (5 Mother Sauces)

for writing your cooking and other food-related scenes

Mother sauces, first classified by French Chef Marie-Antoine Carême and later codified by Auguste Escoffier, are the starting points for countless ‘daughter’ sauces in French cuisine.

In 1833, Marie Antoine Carême published a classification of French sauces in his reference cookbook L’art de la cuisine française au XIXe siècle ("The Art of French Cuisine in the 19th Century").

These foundations are essential to traditional French culinary creations, but by adding various ingredients can be transformed into a wide range of sauces ready to enhance and complete different dishes.

The Roux

Master the making of roux (“roo”), and you will have a variety of French sauces at your fingertips.

Roux is basically cooking fat and flour together before adding in the liquid you want to thicken.

The fat used is generally butter, but oil or other fats can also be used.

The fat and flour cook together to cook out some of the floury, pasty flavor in the flour.

Cook the mixture for 5 minutes for white, 20 minutes for blond, or 35 minutes for brown roux.

The darker the roux, the nuttier the flavor.

When the liquid is added to the roux, and everything comes to a boil, the flour thickens the liquid, and you end up with sauce.

Four out of the five mother sauces are thickened by roux.

The 5 French “Mother Sauces”

1. Béchamel (“bay-sha-mel”)

Also known as a white sauce, this is a white roux whisked with milk or other dairy to make a white sauce.

White and just a tad bit thicker than heavy cream.

The flavoring is up to you, although the French like to do a little salt and pepper, while the Italians like to throw on a pinch of nutmeg.

Another traditional flavoring option is to steep the milk with a whole onion that has been studded with a couple of cloves and a bay leaf before being combined with the roux.

By itself, béchamel is quite bland, which is why it is usually cooked with other ingredients and not used as a finishing sauce.

Béchamel is classically served with eggs, fish, steamed poultry, steamed vegetables, pastas, and veal.

The sister sauces include:

Mornay = béchamel + Gruyère + Parmesan + butter

Cheese = béchamel + cheddar + Worcestershire sauce + dry mustard

Soubise = béchamel + onions + butter

2. Velouté (“vuh-loo-tay”)

It’s made similar to a béchamel, except in this case, stock replaces the milk.

A velouté is a blond roux whisked with chicken, turkey, fish, or any other clear stock.

The resulting sauce takes on the flavor of the stock, and the name is derived from the French word for velvet, which suitably describes this smooth but light and delicate sauce.

Commonly, the sauce produced will be referred to by the type of stock used, for example, chicken velouté.

Velouté is classically served with eggs, fish, steamed poultry, steamed vegetables, and pastas.

The sister sauces include:

Bercy = velouté +shallots + white wine + fish stock + butter + parsley

Normandy = fish velouté + fish stock + mushrooms + liaison

Allemande = veal/chicken velouté + liaison

Suprême = chicken velouté + cream

3. Espagnole (“es-puhn-yohl”)

Commonly known as brown sauce, this rich sauce is made using beef or veal stock, tomato puree, and mirepoix (meer-ph), which is a combination of diced carrots, celery, and onions, all thickened with a very dark brown roux.

If you’ve heard of demi-glace (deh-mee-glass), it’s nothing more than equal parts of Espagnole sauce and brown stock that has been reduced by half for an even more flavorful sauce.

Espagnole is rarely served on its own due to the strong flavors.

Espagnole is classically served with roasted meats like beef, veal, lamb, and duck.

The sister sauces include:

Bordelaise = demi-glace + red wine + shallots + bay leaf + thyme + black pepper

Châteaubriand = demi-glace + mushrooms + shallots + lemon juice + cayenne pepper + tarragon + butter

Madeira = demi-glace + Madeira wine

Mushroom = demi-glace + mushroom caps

4. Hollandaise (“hol-uhn-dehz”)

This is the one mother sauce not thickened by a roux.

Hollandaise sauce is an emulsion of butter and lemon juice or vinegar using egg yolks as the emulsifying agent (to bind the sauce), usually seasoned with salt and a little black pepper or cayenne pepper.

Heat control is essential here to prevent curdling of the sauce, and therefore, it is usually done in a double boiler.

Hollandaise sauce is classically served with eggs (Eggs Benedict), vegetables (especially asparagus), light poultry dishes, and fish.

The sister sauces include:

Béarnaise = hollandaise + shallots + tarragon + chervil + peppercorns + white wine vinegar

Chantilly = hollandaise + whipped heavy cream. The tomato sauce is classically served with pasta, fish, vegetables, polenta, veal, poultry, bread, and dumplings such as gnocchi.

5. Tomate (“toe-maht”)

Sauce tomate, better known as tomato sauce, is based on tomatoes.

A roux is traditionally used in making tomato sauce, but many chefs skip it because the tomatoes themselves are enough to thicken the sauce.

The classic sauce tomate is made with salted pork belly, onions, bay leaves, thyme, pureed or fresh tomatoes, roux, garlic, salt, sugar, and pepper.

If you don’t want to get that fancy, you can leave out the pork belly and roux to make a standard tomato sauce.

The sister sauces include:

Creole = tomato sauce + onion + celery + garlic + bay leaf + thyme + green pepper + hot sauce

Spanish = creole sauce + mushrooms + olives

Milanaise = tomato sauce + mushrooms + butter + cooked ham

Sources and other related articles: 1 2 3 4 5

If these notes inspire you in any way, please tag me, or leave a link in the replies. I would love to read your work!

More: On Food

[myhauntedsalem]

Mary Ellen Spook Farm

In January of 1922, farmer Alexander MacDonald, his wife Janet, and their adopted daughter Mary Ellen fled their home in Caledonia Mills, Nova Scotia after a rash of poltergeist activity, including more than 30 unexplained fires. Though several researchers, journalists, detectives, and paranormal investigators would eventually examine the farm and house, the so-called “fire spook” was never fully explained.

The poltergeist activity that had plagued the household for almost an entire year included moving the cattle around when no one was in the barn, mixing ashes into the stored milk, and even braiding the tails of horses. Most notable, however, were the fires which earned the haunting its name.

The fires would spring up spontaneously all over the house and grounds, often far from the hearth or any other source of a spark. Everything from wallpaper to wet towels were said to burst into flame: it got so bad that the family organized a kind of “neighborhood watch” to guard against arsonists, though none were ever found. Eventually, the family fled the property for good.

Once the family moved out of the house, journalists and would-be paranormal investigators moved in. Even Sir Arthur Conan Doyle was invited to explore the phenomena. Some of the most notable accounts include those of Harold Whidden, a reporter from the Halifax Herald, and police detective Peachey Carroll, who spent two nights in the house. During this time they both experienced several odd events, including the feeling of being slapped on the arm and face by phantom hands. Whidden was so troubled by his experiences that he never published them in his lifetime, though they have since been released by his family.

Another prominent investigator who visited the home for several days was Dr. Walker Franklin Prince, who concluded that the poltergeist activity emanated from the family’s then-15-year-old adopted daughter, Mary Ellen–this in spite of the fact that Dr. Prince, himself, experienced no unusual phenomena during his stay. Members of the family were even brought back to the house during his investigation in an attempt to “trigger” the ghost. Dr. Prince did, however, report unexplained rapping noises in his office back in New York for several weeks after he had completed his investigation into the Caledonia Mills “Spook Farm.”

Unfortunately for Mary Ellen, Dr. Prince’s suggestion that she was the cause, albeit unknowingly, of the fires and other poltergeist activity stuck with her throughout her life. People began calling her Mary Ellen Spook, and, according to some accounts, she was even confined to an asylum for many years. Regardless of the cause, after she and her family moved away from the farm in Caledonia Mills, the phenomena ceased.

However, that wasn’t the end of the story of the Caledonia Mills Spook Farm. Over the years, several other explanations have been put forth as new detectives attempt to solve the mystery. Edward J. O’Brien, a lecturer who stopped off at the nearby St. Francis Xavier University, posited that the fires might have been caused by radio waves passing through Caledonia Mills between the radio towers at Wellfleet, Massachusetts, and Glace Bay, Nova Scotia, though to modern science that theory sounds perhaps even more preposterous than “fire spooks.”

Arsonist or no, the Caledonia Mills legend persists. Even today, long after the farm and house have disappeared, people say that if you take home any item from the property, your house will burn down. According to one couple, who call themselves P.O.N.I. (Pair of Normal Investigators), “This has been tested by regular every day people and the buildings always catch fire.”

[coovieilledentelle]

A l'heure du Thé on peut faire la gourmande... et déguster quelques crêpes... je vous donne la recette

Pour 1 portion : Crêpes - 3 pcs Sucre - 50 g Beurre - 25-30 g Zeste d'orange - 1/5 pcs Vanille Bourbon - 1/3 gousse Jus d'orange ~100 ml Liqueur de Grand Marinier - 30-35 ml Baies fraîches - 30 g Glace vanille - 45 g

Mode de préparation : 1/ Caraméliser le sucre 2/ Ajouter le beurre, le zeste d'orange et les graines de vanille, amener à homogénéité. 3/ Déglacer avec le jus d'orange et réduire jusqu'à obtenir une consistance de sauce. 4/ Ajoutez les crêpes, nappez-les de sauce sur toutes les faces. 5/ Ajoutez les baies fraîches, versez la liqueur et faites un flambé. 6/ Servir les crêpes dans une assiette et garnir de glace vanille.

[cheynovak]

Shadows of the Past

Soldier boy x F/Reader (Y/N Barnes)  & Bucky Barnes ( Brother)  

Warnings: Angst, Aggression, nothing to extreme 

Side note: English isn’t my first language.    

*Multiverse: between MCU and The boys* 

--------------------------------- 

Story: 

1941

In the heart of Brooklyn, nestled among the bustling streets and towering buildings, lived Y/N Barnes, the younger sister of James Buchanan Barnes, known to many as Bucky. At the age of seventeen, Y/N was a senior at Brooklyn High School, where she spent her days immersed in books and dreams of adventure. 

But amid the ordinary rhythm of school and homework, she was like any other teenage girl, and so there was one person who made her heart race like no other – Ben, the mysterious and enigmatic badboy who will later be known as Soldier boy.  

--------------------------------- 

From the moment Y/N first laid eyes on him, she knew that he was different, someone who saw the world through a lens of possibility and adventure. 

But there was one person who didn't share Y/N's enthusiasm for Ben, her older brother, Bucky. He always thought of Ben as a bully since he had a fight with Steve once.  

Bucky had been fiercely overprotective of Y/N, his concerns for her safety drove her insane. She couldn’t understand why but she let him be, but knowing he meant well.  

Y/N wasn’t what we would call popular girl, she always stood in shadows. But she did have a crush on Ben, a guy the same age as her older brother. But she knew Bucky wouldn’t like that. Besides that, in high school Ben never dated the younger girls. So, he never noticed her back then.  

Y/N Barnes strolled through the crowd of the Brooklyn youth at the carnival, her laughter mingling with the joyful sounds of the bustling fair. Beside her walked her brother Bucky and his friend Steve, their easy camaraderie a comforting presence in the sea of strangers. 

Ben and his pals stood by the Ferris wheel as he watched Y/N weave through the colourful chaos of the carnival, he couldn't help but feel as though he was seeing her for the first time. Sure, he had known of her existence, she was Bucky's younger sister, after all. But until that moment, she had been just another face in the crowded halls of their high school.  

As he watched her laugh and joke with Bucky and Steve, there was something about her that captivated him in a way he couldn't quite explain. She was no longer just a young girl tagging along with her older brother. She had a newfound glace of womanhood over her.  

“Don’t do it man.” Ben heard his friends say. “She isn’t worth the trouble with Barnes.” Ignoring the cautionary whispers of doubt, he made his decision, determined to seize the opportunity before it slipped away. 

As Bucky and Steve became momentarily engrossed in the sights and sounds of the carnival, Ben saw his chance. With a steadying breath, he stepped forward, closing the distance between himself and Y/N with purposeful strides. 

"Hey," he called out, his voice carrying over the din of the bustling fairgrounds. Y/N turned toward him, her eyes widening in surprise as she registered his approach. Y/N looked around seeing is he was talking to her before answering. "Hi," she replied, her voice tinged with curiosity.  

"I, uh, I just wanted to say hi," Ben continued, his words stumbling slightly as he fought to keep his nerves at bay. "I've seen you around school, but I've never really had the chance to talk to you before."  

"Well, I don’t blame you." she quipped, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. "I figured you were too busy with all your other girlfriends to notice little old me." Ben couldn't help but chuckle at Y/N's boldness, she caught him off guard in the best possible way. 

Ben stepped closer "Trust me, none of those other girls even come close," he replied, his voice low as he locked eyes with her. "You're something special, Y/N Barnes." 

“Hey, leave her alone asshole.” Their conversation interrupted the moment Bucky caught sight of them. His expression darkened, a storm brewing behind his steely gaze as he stormed over to where they stood. "Come on Y/N, we're leaving," Bucky declared, his voice sharp with anger as he grabbed her arm, his grip tight. 

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise at her brother's sudden appearance. "Hey, man, I didn't mean any harm," Ben said, his voice calm but firm. "Just wanted to say hi, that's all." But Bucky's anger simmered beneath the surface, his protective instincts overriding any sense of reason as he levelled a fierce glare at Ben. 

"You said it, now go, I don't want you anywhere near my sister," he spat, toe to toe, his words cutting through the air like a knife. "You stay away from her, understand?" “And what if she wants to talk to me?” Ben answered cocky before looking at Y/N.  

Y/N watched as his friends crossed the street, "Bucky, please," she implored, her voice gentle but firm, “Let’s go.” Knowing he might take on Ben alone, but 3 against one. She tugged his arm looking at Steve for help. “Come on Buck, he isn’t worth it.” 

“Yeah, listen to the midget. And run along.” Ben’s voice followed you. Bucky's blood boiled at Ben's audacity, his temper flaring as the younger man's words cut through him like a knife. Without a second thought, he spun around, his fist connecting with Ben's face with a sickening thud. 

It took Ben a second to straighten his back. He could taste the metallic tang of blood in his mouth. Just when he wanted to return the punch Y/N places herself between the men, facing Ben. “Don’t.” she said firm.  

Ben’s green eyes pierce through her. “You’re lucky your sister is here Barnes, I don’t hit girls.” He said still looking at Y/N. “Take him away.” he said now to her. Once around the corner Y/N broke the silence. "What the hell, Bucky?" she demanded, her voice trembling with anger. "Are you insane three to one?!" 

Bucky's expression was grim as he met his sister's gaze, his own anger simmering just below the surface. “What was I supposed to do? He talked shit about Steve.” Y/N pinched her nose. “How about not interfere or if you do be nice?”  

“I don’t want him to talk to you! He is a ladies man, a player.” “Takes one to know one, right?” she bit back. Once they reached their house, she runs inside ignoring her brother. ��Goodnight Steve” she hugged him before going to bed.  

-- 

The next day 

As the school bell rang, signalling the end of another day of classes, Ben made his way to the gates, his heart pounding with anticipation. He had waited anxiously all day for this moment, hoping that Y/N would show up. As he approached the school gates, he couldn't help but notice the girls walking past him. 

All trying to get his attention with flirtatious giggles and batting eyelashes. But Ben barely spared them a glance, his eyes scanning the crowd for one person and one person only. 

And then, he saw her, standing at the edge of the crowd, her expression a mixture of surprise and curiosity as she caught sight of him. Ben's heart skipped a beat at the sight of her, his pulse quickening as he made his way toward her, pushing through the crowd with determined strides. 

"Y/N," he called out, his voice filled with relief and excitement. "I was hoping I'd see you." Y/N's eyes widened in surprise at his words, her cheeks flushing with colour as she met his gaze. "I... I didn't expect to see you here," she admitted, her voice tinged with uncertainty. 

Ben smiled, his heart swelling with warmth at the sight of her. "I wanted to talk to you," he said earnestly, taking a step closer to her. "Can we go somewhere quieter?" She nodded, feeling his hand on her lower back as he walked her through the crowd. She couldn’t help but to notice how everyone looked at them. Thinking Ben still has a way of getting attention at this high school without trying. Knowing Bucky will find out soon enough. 

As Ben and Y/N stepped into the cozy diner, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and sizzling bacon enveloped them, wrapping them in a warm embrace as they made their way to a secluded booth in the corner. 

And as he settled into the worn vinyl seat, he couldn't help but feel a sense of peace wash over him in the presence of Y/N. "I come here whenever I need to clear my head," Ben explained, gesturing around the diner with a fond smile. "It's like my home away from home."  

"It's cozy," she remarked, her voice soft with appreciation. 

A waitress approached their table, her pen poised and ready to take their order. Ben glanced at Y/N with a playful grin, knowing exactly what she would want. 

"Two milkshakes, please," he said, his gaze never leaving Y/N's as he placed their order. Y/N's cheeks flushed with surprise at his gesture, her heart fluttering with warmth at the thoughtfulness of his choice. 

"You didn't have to do that," she protested softly, her eyes meeting his with gratitude. But Ben simply shrugged, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes as he leaned back in his seat. "Consider it a peace offering," he replied, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "After all, I did get punched in the face yesterday." 

“Which means I have to buy you, not the other way around.” He leaned forward “I mean the date sweetheart.” That nickname left her flustered. As they settled into easy conversation, sipping on their milkshakes and sharing stories Y/N got lost track of time.  

It wasn't until a glance at the clock on the wall revealed the lateness of the hour that Y/N realized just how much time had passed. Her eyes widened in surprise as she took in the late hour. 

"Oh my gosh, I had no idea it was so late," she exclaimed, her voice tinged with disbelief as she turned to Ben. He chuckled softly, a warm smile playing at the corners of his lips as he met her gaze. "Time flies when you're having fun," he replied, his voice filled with warmth and affection. Y/N couldn't help but smile at his words, her heart fluttering.  

“Let me walk you home.” Ben got up, taking her coat holding it for her like a real gentlemen. As Ben and Y/N walked through the quiet streets of Brooklyn, the night air crisp and cool around them, Y/N couldn't shake the nagging question that had been weighing on her mind since their conversation at the diner. 

"Ben," she began, her voice breaking the comfortable silence between them. "I've been meaning to ask... why do you act like such a bully sometimes?" Ben's steps faltered slightly at her question, his expression clouding over with a mixture of sadness and regret.  

He sighed heavily, his gaze fixed on the ground as he struggled to find the right words. "It's... complicated," he admitted finally. She is quiet but Ben feels the awkwardness. "My dad... he's not a good person," Ben began slowly, his voice tinged with bitterness. "He's... he's abusive, since my mom died it, just got worse." 

"I'm so sorry, Ben," she murmured, reaching out to gently squeeze his hand in a silent gesture of support. Ben offered her a small, grateful smile before continuing. 

"I guess I've always felt like I had to be tough, you know?" he confessed, his gaze distant as he spoke. "Like if I showed any weakness, he'd... it just make things worse." 

"But that's not an excuse for how I've treated people sometimes," Ben added quickly, his voice filled with remorse. 

As they reached her house she turns to him as she reached out to gently touch his arm. "It's okay, Ben," she said softly, her voice filled with compassion. "We all have our struggles, I won’t tell a soul.” She promises him. 

A tension crackled between them, thick with unspoken emotions. Y/N's heart raced as Ben closed the space between them. His intent clear in the gentle brush of his lips against hers. 

But just as their breath mingled in the space between them, Y/N gently pulled away. "Ben, wait," she whispered, her voice barely above a murmur, but firm with conviction. Ben's brow furrowed in confusion, his eyes searching hers for answers as he took a step back, giving her space. "What is it?" he asked, his voice laced with concern. 

Y/N took a deep breath, steeling herself for what she was about to say. 

"If you truly want to be with me, you need to stop bullying Steve or fight with my brother," she declared, her voice unwavering despite the flutter of nerves in her stomach. “They are important to me.”  

Ben nods, agreeing to her terms with a renewed determination to prove himself worthy of her trust. Feeling the warmth of Y/N's lips against his cheek, Ben's heart skipped a beat, a rush of tenderness washing over him at the simple gesture of affection. 

As Ben watched Y/N walking to the door call out to her. "Wait," he called after her, his voice filled with a mixture of hope and uncertainty. Y/N turned back, her gaze meeting his with a curious tilt of her head. "When will I see you again?  

She smiles soft, eyes glistering, flirting, “Goodnight Ben. “Goodnight sweetheart.” And as he made his way home, a flicker of hope burned bright within him.  

Y/N stepped through the front door, the warmth of the house enveloping her as she entered. But her sense of comfort was quickly replaced by a wave of anxiety as she was met with the stern gaze of her mother, her arms crossed and her expression one of unmistakable displeasure. 

"Where have you been, young lady?" her mother demanded, her voice sharp with concern. Y/N swallowed nervously, her mind racing for an explanation that wouldn't land her in even more trouble. "I... I was out with a friend," she stammered, her voice tinged with guilt. 

Her mother's brow furrowed in frustration, her disapproval evident in the set of her jaw. "You were supposed to be home hours ago," she scolded, her voice rising with each word. "Do you have any idea how worried I've been?" 

"I'm sorry, Mom," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "I lost track of time." Her mother's expression softened slightly at her apology, but the worry in her eyes remained. 

"Just... don't let it happen again," she said sternly, her tone softened by a hint of maternal concern. Y/N nodded, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she hung her head in shame as she walked to her room.  

Y/N's heart skipped a beat at the sound of her brother's voice outside the door, his tone tinged with a mixture of concern and disapproval. "Come in," she called out, her voice barely above a whisper as she braced herself for the conversation to come. Bucky pushed open the door, his expression stern as he entered her room, his gaze fixed on her with unwavering intensity. 

"This friend of yours... was it Ben?" he asked bluntly, his tone leaving no room for evasion. Y/N's heart sank at the question, her guilt washing over her in a tidal wave of anxiety. "Yes," she admitted reluctantly, her voice barely audible. She never lied to him why would she now.  

Bucky's jaw clenched at her response, his frustration evident in the tight set of his shoulders. "I don't like it, Y/N," he said firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument. "He's trouble, and I don't want you getting mixed up with him." 

"But he's not like that," she protested weakly, her voice tinged with uncertainty. 

Bucky remained unmoved, his expression unyielding as he met her gaze with a steely resolve. "I don't care," he insisted, his voice firm but tinged with concern. "I won't have you getting hurt because of him." 

She had to make Bucky understand that Ben wasn't the person he thought he was, that there was more to him than the facade of a troublemaker. "Ben promised to stop teasing Steve," she blurred out.  

Bucky's brow furrowed at Y/N's suggestion, “why?” He knew that stopping his teasing of Steve had a price. "He's trying to change, Bucky. I believe him." Bucky shook his head. “I better not see you two together.” he said as he walked out the door. 

-- 

Y/N found herself walking along the winding paths, the soft crunch of fallen leaves beneath her feet. Her heart raced with anticipation as she made her way to their secret meeting spot at the park, a secluded clearing nestled among the trees where she and Ben had shared countless conversations and stolen moments together over the past few weeks. 

Ben, who stood waiting for her with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. His arms were laden with a picnic basket and a blanket spread out on the ground, a small feast laid out before them. 

"Surprise," he said with a grin, his voice filled with excitement. Y/N's heart fluttered at the sight of him, her cheeks flushing with warmth at his thoughtful gesture. 

"You didn't have to do all this," she protested, her voice tinged with gratitude. 

But Ben simply shook his head, his gaze unwavering as he met hers with a gentle smile. "I wanted to," he replied softly. "I wanted today to be special.” 

As the gentle breeze rustled through the trees, casting dappled shadows across the picnic blanket, Y/N's gaze fell upon the faint cut that marred Ben's otherwise flawless complexion. Her heart clenched with concern at the sight, a pang of worry coursing through her veins. 

"Ben, what happened to your face?" she asked, her voice soft but tinged with concern. Ben's smile faltered slightly at her question, his eyes flickering with uncertainty as he hesitated to answer. 

"Oh, it's nothing," he replied casually, attempting to brush off her concern with a dismissive wave of his hand. But Y/N wasn't convinced, her brow furrowing in concern as she reached out to gently touch the cut. "It doesn't look like nothing," she insisted, her voice filled with sincerity. "Have you been fighting again?" She asked disappointed.  

Ben's expression softened at her words, a flicker of guilt crossing his features as he met her gaze with unwavering honesty. "Yeah," he admitted, his voice tinged with regret. "I got into a scuffle with some guys. It's stupid, really." 

"You promised me you'd stop fighting," she stated, her tone tinged with disappointment. Ben's gaze faltered at her words, a flicker of guilt crossing his features as he met her unwavering stare. "I promised to stop bullying Steve," he countered, his voice tinged with defensiveness. 

Y/N sighed softly, her frustration evident in the furrow of her brow. 

"But getting into fights is just as bad," she argued, her voice soft but filled with conviction. “Why do you want me to change Y/N?” Y/N's heart sank at Ben's question. 

"Because I care about you, Ben," she replied softly, her voice tinged with emotion. "I don't want to see you get hurt." “I don't understand why you can't accept me, like I accept you," he confessed, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "You're a geek, and I’m still sitting here with you. While I could have chosen popular girls." 

Y/N's heart sank at Ben's defensive words. "Ben, that's not fair," she replied, her voice tinged with sadness. But Ben shook his head, his expression hardened with frustration as he met her gaze with unwavering intensity. 

"Isn't it?" he countered, his voice laced with bitterness. "You're always hanging out with your geeky friends, talking about stuff I don't understand. Maybe I'd rather be with someone who actually gets me. Instead of nagging about what I did."  

Y/N's heart shattered at Ben's hurtful words, the tears gathering in her eyes. "Fine!" she exclaimed, her voice trembling with emotion. "If that's what you want, then go find those girls!" With a heavy heart, Y/N turned away from Ben, her tears blurring her vision as she fled from the park, desperate to escape the sting of his rejection. 

As Ben approached Y/N's house late that night, his heart weighed heavy with remorse for his hurtful words and actions. He knew he had crossed a line, and the thought of the pain he had caused Y/N gnawed at him. 

With a shaky breath, he reached out to knock on the door, his hand trembling with nerves. But before he could make contact, the door swung open to reveal Bucky, his expression cold and unwelcoming. 

"What are you doing here?" Bucky demanded, his voice sharp with suspicion. 

Ben swallowed hard, his guilt weighing heavily on his shoulders as he met Bucky's gaze. "I... I need to talk to Y/N," he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper.  

"She doesn't want to see you," he replied firmly. Ben's heart sank at Bucky's words, the weight of his rejection hitting him like a ton of bricks. He knew he had messed up, but he couldn't bear the thought of losing Y/N.  

"I just need to talk to her," he pleaded, his voice filled with desperation. "Please." 

Bucky's expression hardening with determination as he stepped forward to block Ben's path. "I said leave," he growled, his voice laced with warning. "Before I make you." 

“I’ll leave if she tells me to.” Bucky's stern gaze softened at Ben's words. "Fine," Bucky relented, his voice softer than before. "Wait here." 

With a nod, Bucky retreated into the house, leaving Ben standing alone on the doorstep. Minutes ticked by like hours as Ben waited anxiously, until he hears her voice. "What is it, Buck?" she asked, her voice tinged with uncertainty. 

But before Bucky could respond, Ben stepped forward, his gaze locked on Y/N's.  

"I need to talk to you," he blurted out, his voice tinged with urgency. "Please, just hear me out." "Ben, I appreciate that you want to talk," she began, her voice tinged with hesitation. "But I think it's best if you leave." Ben's heart sank at her words, the weight of her rejection hitting him like a ton of bricks. 

“But.. I...” he looks at Bucky and then back at her. "I understand," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry for bothering you."  

--  

Y/N sat in the dimly lit kitchen, her heart heavy with sorrow as she replayed the events of the evening in her mind. The ache of her recent breakup with Ben weighed heavily on her.  

Lost in her thoughts, Y/N was startled when Bucky entered the kitchen, his expression serious as he made his way over to her side. She looked up at him, her eyes searching his face for any sign of what was to come. 

"Hey," Bucky began, his voice quiet but determined. "I need to talk to you about something." Y/N nodded, her heart pounding with apprehension as she waited for him to continue. "I've made a decision," Bucky continued, his gaze unwavering as he met her eyes with a sense of resolve. "I'm going to join the army." 

She knew how much joining the army meant to Bucky, how it had always been his dream to serve his country. But she couldn't help but worry about the dangers that lay ahead, the uncertainty of what the future might hold. "Bucky, are you sure about this?" Y/N asked, her voice tinged with concern.  

"It's a big decision." Bucky nodded, his expression serious but resolute. 

"I've never been more sure of anything in my life," he replied firmly. "But there's something I need to ask of you before I go." "Of course," she replied, her voice filled with sincerity. "Anything." 

Bucky took a deep breath, his gaze softening as he met her eyes with a sense of gratitude. "I need you to take care of Steve," he said quietly, his words heavy with meaning. "I need to know that he'll be okay while I'm gone. That you’ll be okay." 

She nodded in response.  

And as they sat together in the quiet of the kitchen, the weight of their shared responsibilities hanging heavy in the air between them. "I can't help but notice you've been down lately. Is everything okay?" 

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes reflecting the pain that weighed heavily on her soul. She forced a small smile, with a dismissive wave of her hand. 

"I'm fine, Bucky," she replied, her voice tinged with sadness. "Just going through some stuff." Bucky nodded, his gaze softening with empathy as he took a seat beside her at the kitchen table. He knew she meant the break up.  

"Listen, Y/N," he said quietly, his tone gentle but earnest. "Why don't you give Steve a chance?" he asked gently, his voice tinged with sincerity. "Bucky, Steve's like a brother to me," Y/N replied, her voice tinged with embarrassment. "I couldn't imagine going on a date with him." 

Bucky raised an eyebrow, a knowing smirk playing at the corners of his lips. 

"Sure, sure," he teased, his tone playful. "But you can't deny that you've got a thing for blond guys." Y/N rolled her eyes, but a small smile tugged at her lips. 

"Okay, maybe I have a type," she admitted with a shrug. "But that doesn't mean I'm interested in Steve that way." Bucky chuckled softly, his gaze warm with amusement as he regarded her fondly. "Fair enough," he conceded.  

"But you never know what might happen if you give him a chance." Y/N shook her head, a soft laugh escaping her lips at Bucky's persistence. "Thanks, Bucky," she said sincerely. "But I think I'll pass on you setting Steve up with me." 

Bucky grinned, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he leaned back in his chair. "Suit yourself, kid" he replied with a playful wink.  

-- 

As Bucky and Steve excitedly discussed at the Stark Expo, Y/N couldn't help but feel a pang of nostalgia for the carefree days of her past relationship with Ben. She had heard rumours that he was considering joining the military, but seeing him in uniform at the expo brought a wave of mixed emotions crashing over her. 

"Hey, Y/N, are you coming with us?" Bucky asked, snapping her out of her thoughts. Y/N hesitated, torn between her desire to follow her friends at the expo and her need to talk to Ben. But ultimately, she knew that she couldn't let Ben slip away without at least trying to talk to him. 

"I'll catch up with you guys later," she replied, offering Bucky and Steve a small smile. "There's someone I need to talk to first." Finally, she spotted him standing near one of the military displays, his expression stoic. She approached him cautiously, her heart pounding in her chest as she prepared herself for the conversation ahead. 

"Ben," she called out softly, her voice barely above a whisper. Ben turned to face her, his eyes widening in surprise at the sight of her. "Y/N," he replied, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "What are you doing here?" 

Y/N took a deep breath, her nerves getting the better of her as she struggled to find the right words. "I heard about the military," she began hesitantly. "Is it true? Are you really going to enlist?" Ben nodded, his gaze fixed on the ground as he wrestled with his emotions. 

"Yeah," he admitted quietly. "I've been thinking about it for a while now. It's something I need to do." She pleaded with him, her voice trembling with desperation, begging him not to go. "Ben, please," she implored, her eyes brimming with tears. "Don't do this. I can't bear to see you leave." 

He reached out to gently cup her face in his hands, his touch tender in its reassurance. "I'm sorry, Y/N," he murmured, his voice filled with regret. "But I have to do this. It’s the only way to make my old man proud.” Y/N shook her head, her heart aching with sorrow as she struggled to come to terms with the reality of their situation. 

"But what about me, Ben?" she cried, her voice cracking with emotion. "What about us?" Ben's gaze softened with sympathy, his thumb brushing away the tears that stained her cheeks. "I'll come back for you, Y/N," he promised earnestly. "I swear it.” 

As Ben turned to leave, a sense of finality settling over them, Y/N couldn't bear the thought of letting him go without one last gesture of love. With a surge of courage, she stepped forward and gently pressed her lips to his, pouring all of her love and longing into the fleeting kiss. 

When they finally pulled away, their breaths mingling in the space between them, Ben's eyes searched hers with a mixture of surprise and vulnerability. 

"Does this mean you forgive me?" he asked softly, his voice tinged with uncertainty. 

Yes, Ben," she replied earnestly, her voice filled with conviction. "I forgive you." 

And as they stood together in the midst of the bustling expo, their hands intertwined, and their hearts entwined. Ben grabs her cheeks and kisses her again.  

As Ben and Y/N shared their passionate kiss, lost in the whirlwind of emotion and desire, they were unaware of the eyes that watched them from across the room. Bucky and Steve stood frozen in surprise, their gazes locked on the scene unfolding before them. 

Bucky and Steve exchanged a meaningful glance, a silent acknowledgment passing between them. Despite their initial surprise, they couldn't deny the depth of Ben and Y/N's connection, nor the sincerity of their feelings for each other. 

Ben looked up meeting Bucky’s eyes. With a nod of acceptance, Bucky and Steve welcomed Ben into their circle, only to please Y/N. Her heart was aching, knowing she had to send the two man she cared about to war. Well, three but she didn't know that yet. But tonight was full of laughs, music and dances. 

--

Present day

Ben walked through the streets of New York, trying to understand what happened.  "I'm glad we finally found you." A familiar voice said.

As he turned around, he finally saw two faces he recognised. “Barnes, Rogers.” He said relieved and yet firm. “You need to come with us.” Steve said, “We need to fill you in what happened the last 40 years.”  

“But first,” Bucky walked up to Ben pushing him to the wall behind him. “You need to tell me what happened to my sister.”  

To be continued...  

--

Please feel free to like, share or comment. Make sure you check out my masterlist.    

[allthecanadianpolitics]

Cape Breton University is partnering with a Glace Bay organization on a program to pair students looking for a safe and affordable place to live with seniors who have room to spare. 

The hope is that the program can benefit both students and seniors alike, says Patti McDonald, the executive director of Town House, a Glace Bay organization that aims to help marginalized people in the community. 

Many seniors, she said, live alone in large homes that can be difficult to heat and maintain. Students, meanwhile, can often struggle finding affordable housing near school. 

McDonald said the idea is that students and seniors will apply to be part of the program. Once matched, the student will pay an estimated $750 a month for the accommodations, but also be expected to help out around the house. [...]

Continue Reading.

Tagging: @politicsofcanada

[delta-gambit-au]

How many more Glace you want on your feed? - Yes.

[[SHARPSHOOTER]]

“And it was with heavy heart that I told Master Swatch that this hatchling seemed to be defective. Completely devoid of emotion and self-drive, only following orders, waiting for queries like a lifeless terminal to even move out of the way. He said to give him an opportunity to grow, that eventually he’ll become a good Darkner and be helpful to Queen. I had my doubts… There was something very unorderly in this Swatchling's cold eyes, something unsettling that gave me chills and made me stand on guard like the first time we fought their old forms long ago. Hope the masks keeps them at bay if something off starts to float in their minds. I'll be the first to know.” — Madame Tasque

Very big picture (the original is +10K of width). More character study and learning new tricks while at it to explore my style.

Anyway, the header is done. @glace-the-blu-swatchling is going to be my reblog blog for all things Undertale, Deltarune, for all of your beautiful art. Glace will thus bear the burden for me, while I try to keep this blog as tidy as possible. Hope the old crow thinks of this as a fair hobby for Glace to keep himself occupied while not following Ciel to the target range (it's unfair to Ciel that he has such pin-point accuracy).

If you see Glace going through your blogs and reblogging your old stuff, don't mind him. When you ask him to do something, he can't help it but to do it "in full force" (though if you think that's going to be annoying to get 20 notifications all of sudden, I'll ask him to reduce his reblogs to 5 a day until he finishes perusing your old stuff). Hope that makes us even, in a sense.

Now, what was the next thing in the ToDo List... <unfurls the roll> [[SACRÉ CUNGADERO]] this thing is [[ENDLESS]] 😱

[beyond-mortal-limits]

FFXIVWrite 2024 - Day 15: Free Day

LA BATARDE

ENTREE

Soupe au Pistou Pistou Soup

Soupe à l'Oignon Onion Soup

Gougères Sauteed Pastry With Cheese

Lentilles Du Puy Mijotées Simmered Du Puy Lentils

MAINS

Cassoulet de haricots, saucisse fumée et poulet Cassoulet of Beans, Smoked Sausage, and Chicken

Ratatouille de légumes d'été Ratatouille of Summer Vegetables

Coq Au Vin Stewed Poultry In Wine

Fricassée de poulet au pain grillé Chicken Fricasee With Toasted Bread

DESSERT

Fromages d'Eorzea Cheeses Of Eorzea

Crêpes aux baies de Gridania et sirop Crèpes with Gridanian Berries and Syrup

Tarte aux pommes avec glace Apple Tart With Iced Cream

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

"Cattle Rustler Given Two Years," The Globe and Mail. June 14, 1943. Page 7. ---- Glace Bay, N.S., June 13 (CP). - Convicted of stealing two cows In Cape Breton's first "cattle rustling" incident last April, Peter Donovan of Glace Bay on Saturday was sentenced to serve two years in Dorchester Penitentiary.

Donovan's companion at the time, a youth under 16, is being tried in Juvenile court. George Cohen and Ronnie Traveline of Glace Bay are awaiting trial in Supreme Court on charges of receiving stolen goods.

[sassyasses]

I’be had this Hades/Ward idea in my head for the last few months, now is a good time to post it i think

Concept: Hades x Ward crossover, but it's about Taylor trying to escape being dead, with various capes taking the role of Hades characters and either helping or hindering her escape. 

Incedental spoilers for Hades throughout all the way up to the ending

Premise:

Taylor (taking the role of Zag) died during the ending of Worm and has been living in a shard space simulation ever since. Some time after the end of Ward Tattletale (taking the role of Nyx) asked Victoria (taking the role of Athena) to resurrect her, but for some reason QA (taking the role of Hades) is preventing the relatively tried and true method of Cape resurrection from working so Taylor has to fight her way out of the Firmament with QA throwing up enemies to stop her.

Equipment:

When Taylor is preparing to get out Imp (taking the role of Skelly) appears and says she managed to sneak Taylor some weapons she can use, though due to Reasons she can only use one. These are:

Knife, with aspects of Taylor, Armsmaster, Jack Slash, and (Hidden) Blake

Baton, with aspects of Taylor, Regent, Sveta And (Hidden) Avery 

Gun, with aspects of Taylor, Chevalier, Antares, and (Hidden) Lucy

The Gods and Boons:

When Taylor first escapes the shard simulation QA is running, she finds a golden star and picking it up reveals Victoria in full Antares outfit. She explains that QA is blocking them from just resurrecting her and the best they can do is help her on her way, Kenzie (Hermies) made a Box that lets their shards give Taylor a boon.

Antares takes the role of Athena and gives mostly defensive buffs.

Bitch takes the role of Ares and gives Taylor the ability to set her dogs on enemies (i.e Doom)

Foil takes the role of Artemis and gives boost to accuracy and the ability to hit enemies juuust right

Kenzie takes the role of Hermies and gives utility powers in the form of Cameras, its tinkertech don't worry about it.

Dragon is taking the role of Demeter and is providing Taylor with Glace inspired tinkertech, and laser beams.

Vista taking the role of Posidon, is trying way to hard to be cool, and gives the ability to knock foes back.

Crystal is taking the role of Zeus and giving Taylor loads of laserbeams

Rain was helping Kenzie out with the tinkertech, so decided to help Taylor out while he was there. He is apologetic that his help is in the form of a really weak debuff on enemies, and hopes the secondary effect makes up for it. (The "secondary" effect is massive damage. He does not realise this is a lot more helpful) That's right, Rain is Aphrodite.

Hero is being used by QA to expand the Firmament, but he occasionally leaves behind his tools for Taylor to pick up (taking the role of Daedalus)

Chris can also offer his help in the form of experiments he is running on shardspace. (Chaos)

Sometimes two shards make Taylor pick one of the boons and get angry when she picks. The capes are very apologetic and can't really prevent their powers from throwing a fit, but can make sure they give her a benefit if she wins the ensuing fight.

Taylor can also meet a silent-save-for-grovelling Butcher, who is doing what they did in life, selling weapons. (Charon)

Stages:

The first stage would be a hellish Shard imagining if Brocton Bay (Tartarus, not that different form BB in canon tbh) with E88, AZB, Coil Mercs etc being the various wretches she fights, with shades of villains she has fought (and are dead) being minibosses. The final boss is Regent, who flirts a lot with Taylor before they fight (and implies they had a short thing going during the pre escape simulation), eventually he is replaced by Kaiser who hates that she is getting out and not him and Oni Lee, who doesn't say much. (Megaera, Alecto, and Tisiphone respectfully)

Second is Chicago, this time the enemies are various PRT or Police officers and minibosses are heroes she has fought (and are dead). Final boss is a skeletal Behemoth, she eventually calls him "Barry".

Third stage is Killington, facing the S9000 through a ruing and trap filled town. Final boss(es) are Jack Slash and Crawler. Jack Slash is loving being dead and blames Taylor for getting Grey Boy'd and isn't gonna let her out, but without Broadcast cheating he is a lot dumber (Theseus), Crawler is just there for a good time and doesn't hold his death against her, but isn't gonna let her past without a fight because of course he isn't (Asterius)

In the Fourth stage the exist is guarded by Bastard who Taylor must appease (she could fight him but she isn't a monster) by finding a Goblin Sack. The stage itself based on earth during Gold Morning, and the enemies are Nilbog Goblins.

Finally, after Taylor escapes into the real world she finds herself in a very familiar forest. Standing before her barring her path is a Queen Administrator. Taking the form of Khepri. If/When Taylor beat QA she only gets a few steps out, has a short conversation with Contessa (who resurrected herself and is now retired with a small garden) before getting dragged back into the firmament. Eventually Taylor learns from Contessa, QA, and Lisa that QA is trying to recreate the shard network and restart the cycle. That's right, the world is ending for a 3rd time.

[best-jimmy-buffett-song]

Listen to Semi-True Story

Listen to Son of a Son of a Sailor

Propaganda and Trivia Below:

Semi-True Story:

"Written by Mac McAnally ("It's My Job"), this country ballad references Buffett's drunken skirmish with the infamous Buford Pusser, a wrestler-turned-lawman who was known for doling out tough justice as sheriff of McNairy County in Tennessee. As the song says, Buffett had just finished recording "God's Own Drunk" (from his 1974 album Living And Dying In ¾ Time) and headed to the King of the Road Hotel with his drummer, Sammy Creason, to celebrate with some tequila - lots of tequila. By the time they left to get some food, Buffett was so drunk he couldn't find his car, so he stood on the hood of a Cadillac to get a better view of the parking lot. Unfortunately, the Caddy belonged to Buford Pusser. "I was standing on the hood of this particular car and as fate would have it, it belonged to a rather large man who came up behind me and threatened my life real quickly," Buffett told concert-goers just a few months later. "And I hadn't been in a fight since junior high school on the city bus in Mobile. He came up and said 'Son you stay right there, you're under arrest.' So I politely turned around and said 'You kiss my ass.' He didn't. Instead he followed me over to the car which Sammy had found. I got in the driver's side and Sammy got in the passenger's side. My window was up, his was down and this fellow poked his head in and said 'Would you like for me to turn this car over?'" It probably would've been easier on Buffett if the sheriff had turned the car over. Instead, he gave the singer and the drummer the beating of their lives."

Son of a Son of a Sailor:

"Okay but like everyone knows Buffet more so for songs like Margaritaville and Cheeseburger In Paradise etc. I feel Buffet could be easily dismissed lyrically but this song is a good example of the range and the topics he could cover. It still has that laidback feeling but I love more of the nostalgic, historical, and personal touches here. This is usually the first Buffet song I send to people who associate him with “silly” kind of music. Good album, too."

"Buffett wrote this song about his grandfather, James Delaney Buffett, who was a huge influence on his life. Buffett's grandfather was a sailor born in the town of Rose Blanche in Newfoundland, Canada, later moving to Glace Bay in Nova Scotia and eventually settling in Mobile, Alabama."

"Buffett said of the song: "I saw a picture of my grandfather after he had come back from a trip to Nova Scotia. He was born there but left when he was a young man and didn't return until he was 84. He was standing on dock staring at an old sailing schooner, and the look on his face told the story of where he had come from and where he had been. I have always been very proud of my heritage as a sailor and wrote this for the men who taught me the skills.""

[vixlenxe]

Her sleep is peaceful despite all disposition, despite the beating she had taken. Despite earlier having surrendered her own body & soul to Diabolos, the darkness she held within & at bay for years now, her slumber was peaceful. Person tucked away in the Meghaduta, her mind wandered far in her sleep, playing back memories from her past. Her life before the adventure, to it's start, all the way to the now.

Tiffanie watched it all race by in the dream. From her earliest memories or Ivy arguing with her parents, to her departure from Ishgard, to her return to stop the Dragonsong War, to the day Diabolos & Tiffanie became one entity, to Ala Mhigo, to being transferred to The First, to battling Emet Selch, then Elidibus, then returning to The Source to battle the Lunar Primals, the Towers of Zot, going to the moon, The Final Days, Ultima Thule & giving herself up to make Ivy a path, battling Despair at the edge of the universe... & then adventuring to the Void & merging with Diabolos of her own will so that they might be beaten & seperate at last. So many adventures... so many trials... in them all, one thing always remained.

Ivy, her sister. Always returning to her side. Even after learning to fight for herself, Ivy always returned to her sister, no matter how much time passed.

'Tiffanie! Tiffanie! I am here for you! We are all here for you!'

This memory in itself was hazy, but the words cut through the fog like a knife through butter.

'I'm sorry I let you down in the past, I'm sorry I left you alone when you needed me just to save myself! I'm sorry! And I swear I will not leave you now! I promise I will save you!'

A recent & bitter memory that both brought tears into ocean eyes & filled her chest with a flurry of hope & warmth. Even as the sound of battle grew louder behind the weighted speech.

'My sister, I love you, you're family loves you, we all love you, & we are all waiting for you to come home!'

The clashing of swords & shields rang louder, nearly overshadowing the desperate call. The dark sneering of what one would call a demon, she would called Diabolos rung free in her mind.

'Family?! What would you know of family?! The Warrior of Darkness's own father & mother do not want her!'

'You are not your father's daughter, or your mother's daughter, you are your sister's sister. You are my sister, Tiffanie! You are my chosen family, I chose you, & I will always love you! I want you with me in this future we've created for our star. I want you to pen the next chapter in our story! I want to see the future with you!'

The shriveling of the voidsent cursed, but the Warrior of Light spoke as if she were talking only to Tiffanie, as if she were the only one who mattered. Her love for her family was all that mattered. And when the sounds of battle dimmed, still did only one person remain.

As the final blow is about to be struck, you must call out to her with all your might.

'TIFFANIE!!!'

...

"You're Ivy, she loves you very much."

Tiffanie shared a glace over her shoulder, the apparition of Styx's shade appearing there. Sharing this conversation with her in her dreamscape.

"There's no doubt of that, yes."

Styx tilted her head to the side.

"So, why have you denied yourself that love until now? Or any love for that matter? Even if you thought it pointless with Diabolos threatening to make your life a short one, you know in the end, that is still their choice."

"..."

She looked down & shallowed bitterly, despite there being nothing in her mouth to shallow, & took a deep breath as those tears she'd been holding on her eyelids fell.

"... I believed I was undeserving. Even after all I accomplished, how strong I've grown, how sure I've become, I always believed I did not deserve anyone's love. ... After all... my own father & mother did not love me... if I can not deserve the love of my own parents... then why did I deserve anyone else's?"

The shade was silent, allowing that piercing cry from Ivy to replay in the dreamscape. A desperate cry of someone in pain, in agony from having to do battle with someone they cared so much for, but also so full of their love & hope that they are doing the right thing. The younger sister's tear came harder, each drop echoing when they fell from her face & hit the floor she conquered within her mind. It also sounded like rain.

"You can not expect love from ones incapable of such."

The shade spoke at last.

"My dear shard, it is not that you are undeserving of love, for you so very much are, you simply can not expect it from those incapable of love. Never once has your parents fostered or grown love within them, they know not of such an emotion & do not care too."

Styx placed her hand on Tiffanie's shoulder.

"Nor should you want their love by now. Not only are you deserving of love, but you deserve better then whatever cheap imitation of such beauty they could ever muster up."

".......... This is what... everyone has been trying to tell me... for years.... Why... why did it take so long for it to full register now?"

"Indoctrination is not unseated in a day. It's been years, but I think you finally reached the acceptance stage of grief."

Styx smiled. As the realty swept into Tiffanie like the rain of tears that played in her head. She knew this deep down, deep in her soul, but acceptance was a difficult mistress. But maybe... maybe it's time she truly accept it. She... deserves love.

"Say it to yourself. You need to hear it."

"... It's..." Arms closed around herself, holding herself tightly, the sound of rain quietly slowly as she mustered the words. She needed to hear them from herself, to tell herself the truth. To put the ink of this chapter to rest.

"... It's... It's not my fault. I... I deserve the love I am given."

And begin a new one.

"... And...?"

The rain cleared in the pause, a deep breath released at the same time Tiffanie had no clue she was holding.

"And... now that... my own life is mine again... I will learn to accept it."

The orange-red glow of the sunrise shined over the horizon.

[xenomorphee3]

One of my favorite early chapters! Chapter 3. Regroup.

Miles assesses his new recombinant body. Miles, Lyle, and Mansk have a moment.

[Flashback to Miles on the arriving RDA Venture Star orbiting Pandora]

Recombinant Miles Quaritch was still shaken at his existence. Yesterday he woke up in a body that was not his own. In his mind, he was just on Pandora as the 51 year old head of security at Hell’s Gate on Pandora, getting ready for a straightforward, bomb-run mission to handle the horde of assembling hostiles. Not only was it not his own body, but he was in the body of the very same species of hostiles he was going to defend from and who he had been fighting for 15 years. Tall, gangly, tailed, blue, humanoid aliens. Recombinant Miles was preparing in his temporary quarters on the ship for the mission briefing he was going to give to his recom Marines prior to their Pandora insertion. He was sitting on a cot, being sure to not look out the small porthole as to not get motion sick from the constant gravity simulating spinning, and was reading his mission on a holo-tablet. While reading he couldn’t help but glace at the blue skin of his hands and forearms, the light striping throughout. Blue skin where his regular human skin tone should be. He tightened his lips together, trying not to think about it, and kept scrolling through and reading the mission notes.

Yesterday he watched a video from who he remembered as himself brief him on his own existence. That he was a younger, hybrid clone, built for Pandoran missions, and that he should be vengeful against Jake Sully. He remembered Jake Sully. That paralyzed Marine, a kid, who he took under his wing and offered to help get him walking again. All he asked him to do for him was provide helpful intel against those blue savages. Seemed like an easy trade—his legs for information against some lethal aliens. But somehow, and it shook Miles to his core, he fell in love with one of them, escaped the base, and seemingly rallied thousands of Na’vi to fight against Hell’s Gate. Fight against his own species, humanity. All of this led to the last thing Miles remembered of the incident, which was him getting ready to drop some bombs on their soul tree or whatever it was called, so that the RDA could be rid of these dangerous beings in this region for good. He was head of security for RDA operations on Pandora for 15 years. He sought to secure RDA operations and protect his people—all those good men and women. Now, thanks to Jake Sully, countless people were killed, the RDA forcefully evicted from Pandora, and he himself was in an enemy body, the fate of his human counterpart unknown.

He grew angry at all of these thoughts, bared his teeth with a grimace and threw the holo-tablet aside. He leaned over the edge of the cot, feet planted on the floor, looking down, elbows on his knees, hands clasped together. He sat there, breathing slowly for a moment, pondering. He looked up and caught his reflection in a mirror on the right wall. Seeing his imposing Na’vi, well, recombinant form still caused an innate jolt of adrenaline to course through his body. But it was not an enemy, it was himself. He stood up and slowly approached the mirror. He put his huge hand on the wall next to it, and he stared into his own eyes before examining himself in the reflection, something he did when he first violently awoke in the ship's medical bay.

He looked over his incredible height and muscle tone which by all accounts he did find quite impressive. This bulk in particular a welcome sight given the built body of his human self and his general memory of male Na’vi being quite lean and lanky as a whole. He looked at his sharply pointed ears, held high on his head. Then he moved them. Back. Forward. Back forward. One up, one down. One forward, one back. Twisted them out. Twisted them in. He couldn't believe he had this natural control over something his human self did not even have the capacity to do. Someone walked by in the hallway outside of his quarters and he turned his ear to be able to hear them better. His hearing was so much more acute now.

He bared his teeth like he did before after he awoke, again noting his sharp canines, then he jutted out his lower jaw a bit to see the slightly smaller canines on the bottom. He again stared into his own, new yellow eyes, making note of the details and size of his irises- where his blue human eyes to be. He noted his eagle tattoo, his only true tether to his human body. He thanked in his head whoever it was decided that tattoo transfer would be a good idea because it was. This must have been something they arranged after he saved his memories, because he didn’t remember his tattoo being scanned, but he was grateful to see his cheesy little eagle on his giant bicep, a fond memory from his early days in the U.S. Marine Corps on Earth.

The next thing Miles set out to assess about himself is perhaps the weirdest aspect of being a recom, and the one that made him the most uncomfortable, was his tail. He looked back over his shoulder to see this thing was… just swishing around slightly. He had no idea the emotions associated with it and what thoughts would make it do what. He grabbed it with his right hand to stop its movement, and pulled it around forward, the tip of his tail held up as high in front of him as it would reach, about chest length. He made note of the little black tuft at the end, stroking this tuft lightly with the fingers of his left hand. He held it there for a long moment, made an accepting facial expression and let his tail go. Then, looking over his shoulder at it again, he swished it left, then swished it right. Curled it up, then curled it down between his legs. Miles had a tail now. Ain’t this a bitch.

The last thing Miles made note of was the queue. The freaky long tentacle structure wrapped by braided hair that the Na’vi would used to… connect to wildlife? He’s pretty sure that’s all it was for. The thought weirded him out so much. He grabbed his queue and brought the end of it to his face, revealing the freaky neural tentacles at the end. He stared at them with a fascinated, but sort of grossed out expression. However, he couldn’t help but feel an innate sense of the strong need to protect this structure protruding from the back of his head. Must be the Na’vi in him, he figured. He let out a strong sigh, and gently let his queue back down behind his back. He looked at himself in the mirror again, paused, then uttered aloud, “Alright Marine.” It was a defeated optimism that he knew he had to adopt if he was going to brief his recoms on their mission tomorrow. He wondered if his marines were assessing themselves and their new bodies in the same way in their own quarters. Either way, he was blue now. His Marines were blue now, and it’s just something they had to accept. At the end of the day, he realized that this new body was a new opportunity in a strong and powerful form, and above all else was a new lease on life. One that very few people could ever dream of.

[Flashforward to Miles, Lyle, and Mansk preparing for their mission in Bridgehead City]

The three Marines were given a large storage space that was attached inside to the hangar to make their temporary quarters while they recovered and planned for the mission over the past few days. This spot was chosen so that they would have access to Pandoran air as well as their banshees— which they negotiated deliveries of fish to the hangar since they couldn't take them out frequently as they were still recovering from their injuries. Though, through their pain, they did take them out for some occasional fresh feedings, water, and wing stretching these last few days. Having them hunt in the river and marina that Bridgehead was attached to. Like walking a flying dog. The Marines cared for their banshees and it was worth the toll to keep them content.

Na’vi sized cots and sleeping pads were hauled into the space and it was a fine enough set up save for the loud mechanical noises in the hangar whenever aircraft were getting ready to launch outside. It was not that bad though and the military sounds were comforting to the three. The three Marines were also working on loading up their own Kestrel Gunship they'd be traveling in. 1400 klicks, that ain’t a casual distance, it’s almost the length of what was once California. They weren’t flying that on their banshees and they had a lot of supplies to take on their mission.

Lyle and Mansk had been unusually quiet as they stocked the aircraft. Well, Mansk was always quiet. He had never really expressed much to his team except for his strong desire to wear long sleeve gear head to toe because he hated bugs. Miles thought that was the funniest damn thing he’d ever heard out of a Marine. A Marine volunteering to work on a jungle alien moon put off by insects. How rich. Lyle was usually more animated though. They both silently loaded crates of food, medical supplies, tools, weapons and ammo into the Kestrel. Miles knew he had to be a Colonel in this moment.

“Alright Marines.” the Colonel snapped loudly. “Square up.”

Lyle’s and Mansk’s ears shot up quickly and they dropped what they were doing and came to a slow attention in front of the Colonel.

Miles cleared his throat to speak, and he was still sore in the chest and this statement was the loudest thing he’s said since his injuries and… it hurt.

“Now I know we lost some good people out there. Make no mistake, I know you’re hurting. I’m hurting. But this mission does present itself an opportunity.” Lyle’s and Mansk’s ears flickered forward.

“We can and will get our revenge on Sully. We are just going to have to do it in wide-out fashion. If we ally these… these ‘Ash People’ we can use them to our advantage. We can learn their Na’vi ways, their skills, their knowledge. Even maybe help itch them to fight with us. These are all things that Sully has had for 15 years. Sully’s got a potent mix. A Marine mixed with Na’vi combat experience. But soon we’ll be able to turn the tables. When the time comes. We’ll use our combined skills to finally get this son of a bitch.” he said, firm, eager.

Lyle and Mansk nodded and smiled softly. The Colonel seeing smiles out of his Marines was a welcome sight. Miles stepped into them both and put his hands on both their shoulders— “We got this Marines. We’re the survivors. We’re regrouping. We are going to be our fallen friends’ avengers…” The Colonel paused. “We’re brothers. Semper Fi.” Lyle and Mansk gave tempered smiles and light nods of appreciation for their Colonel’s motivating and supportive words.

“Oorah,” said Lyle and Mansk, in near unison.

“Let’s go grab a drink Marines.” said Miles, enthusiastically. The three of them set off for the base bar.

The three Marines made their way from the hangar to the main admin and operations center. Inside the facility they were ducking under doorways, taking sips from their breathers as they walked through the metal corridors. Miles was 9 feet 5 inches tall, and so he had just 7 inches between the top of his head and most ceilings which were ten feet. It was uncomfortable to say the least. These corridors were so starkly different from the Pandoran wilds they spent much of the last few months in. Every human worker they passed by couldn’t help but look up and gaze at them. The three of them kept walking though, unfazed by the stares. They knew they were a curious sight to behold to these human workers who came to Pandora in a much more privileged and secured state compared to the Marines' own tours at Hell's Gate over two decades ago, three for Miles. They were definitely the first "Na'vi" many of these guys have ever seen in person. They didn't care a bit though, the Marines were eager to reach the bar to relax and drink some of their sorrows away and have a good time.

To reach the bar, it was easiest to go through the large mess hall, so that’s what they decided to do. When they walked in, ducking in under the doorway the loud, natural chatter of the huge, base-wide mess hall suddenly lessened. All eyes were on them and not in a good way. They got stares and glares many of which were from survivors and friends of the Sea Dragon crew. With their acute hearing they could hear little conversations throughout the large, open room thought to be secret. “Those fucking assholes.” “Blue freaks.” “Look at their weird fucking tails.” “Blue zombies.” This was but a small selection of the hatred and jeers that they received, and that last one in particular hurt the most for some reason—that even these humans recognized them as brought back from the dead, the despondent memory of finding his dead human skeleton and watching the moment of his death flashed across his mind. Of course, Miles didn’t blame them. A lot of good men and women died on that ship and in that battle. 63 as a matter of fact. Miles was sorry, but he came to realize and convince himself these last few days that they were unprepared for what happened. That fucking whale, ruined everything. “Never seen ‘em lift a fin”? Yeah right.

The three of them walked past a table of clear Sea Dragon survivors, a bunch of them in casts and covered in stitches. One of them suddenly spit in the path of the walking recoms. Miles looked at the spit and looked at the human with his giant yellow eyes, unblinking, and gave a focused smile with exposed teeth and ears swished back, and then carried on walking. The human glared at him, but with a flicker of fear due to Miles’ intense expression. Lyle chuckled and kept walking. However, the man said, "asshole freaks," under his breath as Mansk walked by. Mansk, without any warning, let out a snarl and lurched at him, getting Lyle and Miles to look back surprised since Mansk was usually exceedingly chill and measured. The exposed teeth and intensity of his eyes was enough to make the table of humans reel back, clear expressions of fear on their faces and pain from moving so quickly with their injuries. The mess hall’s low chatty rumble became completely quiet now due to the commotion. All eyes on the interactions between the blue alien human hybrid clones and these RDA employees. Miles said nothing, he just made strong, but empathetic eye contact with Mansk. Mansk after his eyes caught his Colonel's stood up straight, the intense expression of his face going back to normal. Mansk then looked at the table of Sea Dragon workers and said firmly, “I lost friends too.” Then he frustratedly walked on towards the end of the mess hall, passing Miles and Lyle. Miles and Lyle looked at each other with downcast expressions and followed. The mess hall and the table of humans remained silent until the recoms were out of sight.

The three marines made it to the bar, ducking into the dimly lit space, designed to look like the dive bars of old back on Earth. For the charm. They each took a breath from their breathers. To their shock and surprise, there was Scoresby and Dr. Garvin sitting at the bar, backs facing towards them. Miles knew this was going to be awkward, but he promised his Marines a drink and damn it he was going to get them both one. After that moment back in the mess hall it was clear that they needed it. Not that he gave a damn about the opinions of the obnoxious skipper and a science puke. If anything, it was their ineptitude and misinformation that helped the mission become a disaster. At least that’s what he’s been telling himself to shift the blame.

Miles looked at the bartender and made the symbol for three with the giant fingers on his giant hand and mouthed the word ‘whisky’. The bartender looked up at him in a bit of startled awe, jaw slightly slack and nodded slowly. It was definitely the first time the bartender has seen a "Na'vi" in person.

Miles made sure not to acknowledge Garvin and Scoresby, but who in eavesdropping on their conversation with his acute hearing, were talking about the implications of what the Tulkun did.

Garvin said, “What if their culture is shifting? Them being pacifists may be changing as a direct result and response to our hunting.”

Scoresby, in his thick Australian accent, said, “I don’t give a damn about their ‘culture’ Garvin.” with a heavy mocking emphasis on the word culture. Scoresby was clearly drunk, “I’ll kill every single last of the devils for what they did to me.” he said.

Scoresby’s eyes suddenly caught Miles’, which were glowing and even brighter yellow in the dim lighting of the bar.

“Well now, speak of the devil and he shall appear.” Scoresby said, slurred, and turned his swivel bar chair to the Colonel, Garvin turning as well. It was in that moment when Miles' eyes opened a bit wider realizing that Scoresby had lost an arm. Miles stared at the stump long enough, his ears leaned back for Scoresby to notice and say, “Aye Colonel, don’t worry they’re printing me up a cybernetic arm as we speak. And I’ll use that arm to fire a harpoon into twice as many Tulkun as before. Once they’re done making me a new ship.”

The thought caused Miles to wince a little bit. He was not overly fond of the Tulkun-hunting experience, he ordered it as necessity to draw out Sully, not initially fully understanding the totality of the situation. He was a Marine and these were alien animals, ones he had no relationship with, but he was able to recall childhood memories from his past life when it was announced to the world that the last living whale had died. He remembers the feeling of sadness and wishes that his mission orders went differently than they did in killing the Tulkun mother. Not to mention he that he did have a vested care and concern in an animal of Pandora- his banshee Cupcake. Still though, he couldn't afford to care too much, such was not his business nor ultimate concern in the end. 

Miles could only muster a nod and a, “You do that Scoresby,” before walking up to the bar to grab his drinks.

“I will do that.” Scoresby exclaimed, slurred, and turned back to the bar.

Dr. Garvin looked despondent as usual. Garvin took a break from talking to Scoresby and a moment to gather Miles’ attention.

“Colonel.” Said Garvin. Miles stopped to turn around, three whiskeys in his hands. “I didn’t know the Tulkun were capable of what we saw. In all my research… they have fairly consistently conveyed a species-wide do-no-harm philosophy. Such a negative response is not too dissimilar from the Hallelujah Mountains’ wildlife ‘immune response.’ Things are changing on Pandora. None of it bodes well for us.”

Garvin was drunk too. But there was sincerity, sadness, and worry in his voice. However, we wasn't exactly dismayed at the idea of the Tulkun fighting to defend themselves, if anything he was secretly gleeful and relieved for these intelligent, complex beings. He worried, however, for the loss of human life that would occur until the RDA finally got the message. Miles was quiet for a moment, and the first thing he thought to say was, “A bitch to be human then,” in what was supposed to be a joking tone, but clearly rang out far more seriously to Garvin than he intended.

Realizing his offense, he said, “Ah doc don’t think anything of it. Seems like you get a little too worked up over this stuff. If you want my advice, enjoy your drink.”

Garvin paused and let out a sigh. He stared deep into Miles' eyes, all of his sadness of how he got to this point in his life as a scientist, a scientist responsible for the murder of the creatures he loved to learn about coming through. He nodded lightly before turning back to the bar.

Miles moved his lips to the side, clicked his tongue, turned around and headed to his two Marines, who were patiently waiting in the corner of the bar looking at some old school Earth memorabilia on the walls. Photos of cities and landmarks, sporting arenas, and the like. Stuff that they realized they would never see again. The thought affected Lyle and Mansk whose heads were slightly downturned and their tails and ears completely down. Miles approached his Marines detecting the emotions they felt. Both grabbed their whisky from Miles and the three of them just held them, not drinking. Just staring at and lightly swirling the liquid in the glasses. A Na’vi sized shot each. Whiskys in a pint glass.

The silence endured a little until it was broken by Lyle who held up his glass and said, “To Z-dog.”

Miles and Mansk looked at Lyle then at each other solemnly.

Mansk said, “To Prager.”

Miles smiled and said, “To Zhang.”

“To Lopez.”

“To Fike.”

“To Walker.”

“To Ja.”

“To Warren.”

“To Brown.”

Each marine called off an individual lost fellow recom, their fellow Marines, friends, killed in action.

They paused, ready to take a sip when Miles said, “To Miles Quaritch.”

Lyle and Mansk looked up at their Colonel. Pensive. They paused.

“To Lyle Wainfleet.” Said Lyle.

“To Devin Mansk.” said Mansk.

They held up their glasses high and downed their Na’vi sized shots in one gulp each.

A New Mission (147853 words) by Xenomorphee Chapters: 25/? Fandom: Avatar (Cameron Movies) Rating: Mature