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marvelfansince08love · 4 years ago

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Jealousy Sin

Word Count: 4397

Pairing: Lou Miller x Tammy x Reader - Established Poly Relationship

Prompts “You’re so pretty” “And you are drunk, darling”, “Wait, say that again”, “Go fuck yourself,” “How about you fuck me yourself, you coward?!”, “Come on now, dear. Let’s not torture her any longer”

Warning: NSFW 18+, bad smut writing lmao.

A/N; @existentialcrisiscat thank you for sending in this request and look just in time for your birthday tomorrow! I send you my best wishes and I hope you enjoy this early bday present, July babies are the best!

Thank you @imnotasuperhero for reading over this! Second attempt at poly smut so enjoy the mess lmao!

Permanent Tags: @waitingfortheendtocome @natasha-danvers

I do not own these pictures!

Prompts 14,16,20,39 “You know that the heart of a shrimp is located in its head and that a snail can sleep for 2 to 3 years continuously,” You excite, reciting from a ‘50 fun facts’ book Constance left lying around the lounge area of Lou’s apartment building. Your back against Tammy’s side with your legs stretched out on the sofa while she twirls a strand of your hair around her finger loosely peeking over to look at the ridiculous book. You hear Lou scoff from the open kitchen, making her way to where you are. She hands you both a glass of wine each before grabbing a hold of your ankles and lifting them up from the sofa so she can sit close to you; your legs now stretched out across her lap.

“That’s ridiculous babe. You read the weirdest stuff.” She teases, tickling your feet lightly making you squirm and yelp slightly at the sudden sensation making her eyes twinkle with mischief.

“Hey! It’s true, see!” You turn the book around for her to read.

“She’s right Lou. They are real facts,” Tammy defends teasing the older woman slightly, knowing that it’s usually you against them. You smile smugly at her as she snatches the book from you grumbling about ‘the mess that girl brings every time she’s round here’ making you and Tammy laugh. The back and forth exchange continues for some time as you all enjoy a rare peaceful night in; with another successful heist for the two woman and your new promotion underway, the lighthearted mood continues into the late night with loving kisses exchanged and sweet caresses as you all stumble into bed, tangled up in sheets and limbs as hot wet kisses are pressed on warm glistening skin.

Being with Lou and Tammy for the past six month has been the most wonderful ride you have ever been on and you never want it to stop.

Pure Paradise

Two weeks later

Over the past two weeks the little bubble you three had created started to show cracks leaving you feeling insecure and down right pissed off. You see, being with two women who lead a life of crime no matter how elegantly and successfully they do it, can be difficult. Their planning has to be precise with no page left unturned, if one thing goes wrong it could mean prison for them and no one wants that. They’ve only ran one big heist since you started dating but you were in your honeymoon phase with them back then, they could do no wrong in your eyes. The less frequent phone calls and texts were justified when the two women hung the moon in your mind:

‘It’s a big job they have. They need to focus and make sure it goes right, they still love and care for you the same, Y/N’. Debbie would remind you quietly away from the others, always aware and seeing behind the fake persona.

“You are not going out, Y/N. That’s final.” You stand in your black turtleneck dress and heels, arms crossed in defiance.

“Yes, I am. I’m celebrating my promotion with my colleagues whether you two like it or not.”

“Come on, darling. Stay with us we had this reservation booked for tonight for weeks,” Tammy pleads slightly a little confused by your decline. You usually love date nights, especially when it involves the two of them and food from your favourite restaurant.

“Why are you being like this Y/N? You’ve been distant the last week and a half and don’t think we haven’t noticed you sneaking out of our room in the middle of the night to sleep in the guest room.” You scoff at the word ‘our’.

‘It hasn’t been our room for the last two weeks’ You think spitefully.

“Why do you even care Lou! You and Tammy have been so busy with each other the past two weeks, you barely noticed me leave last week for TWO DAYS Lou. It took two days for either of you to message me and then when I am here you’re both hovering over building prints and potential crew members, I understand that this isn’t something I’m a part of but you could at least act like me not being a part of this doesn’t affect our relationship!” You shout aiming your anger at both women. While Tammy has the decency to look guilty and slightly apologetic, Lou’s face turns hard and cold.

“I’m sorry if our job has taken an importance over yours for once! We thought you understood what you were getting yourself into when we asked you to be a part of our lives Y/N, stop being a clingy brat and grow up.” Lou rages, her chest raising and falling heavily. Tammy takes a step forward to chastise Lou for her burst of anger but before she can intervene you hold up a hand indicating for Tammy to stop as you chuckle humorlessly with unushered tears, speechless. You shake your head in disbelief before grabbing your clutch and rushing for the door and heading into the night.

***

The bar is crowded, full of warm bodies pressed closely together as the dim blue lights glow over the dance floor. You feel the rush of alcohol swarm your mind making you dizzy as you sway lightly to the beat of the sound, you notice your phone illuminate with missed calls and worried texts from your significant others. Your pissed and upset state had quickly changed once you had hit your first bottle of wine and twirled around on the dance floor with your colleagues after some time and a few tequila shots later, the fight you had with them seems miles away. You feel funny and brave as you see Tammy’s name flash on your phone and press the green icon to answer.

“Well... hello gorgeous,” You flirt, your voice deep and slurred.

“Y/N? I can’t hear you much. Darling, please tell me where you are so I can come and get you and bring you home to us?” You scoff at that before stumbling towards the smoking area by the front of the club.

“Tam-Tam, I’m fine. Apparently I’m a brat and this is what brats do right?” You mock, hearing Lou sigh slightly in the background:

‘Is that her? Let me talk to her’ You hear Tammy hush her as if batting her hand away from the phone making you giggle.

Tammy has always been the calmer mediator between you and Lou.

‘You drive her crazy with your bratty ways Y/N’ Tam teased one evening her hand wrapped tightly around your waist as you shrugged in fake innocence while watching Lou struggle to contain herself from across the room at her makeshift bar where she stood with Rose and Debbie, you and Tammy knew that the dress you were wearing was a little on the short side and showed your chest off beautifully driving them both wild, especially Lou.

“Baby you know she didn’t mean it… you know how hot headed she can get,” Tammy murmurs, bringing an offended ‘hey’ out of Lou in the background. You roll your eyes and huff, knowing how right she is.

“Why don’t you tell me where you are darling? We miss you,” Tammy confesses softly, making your heart flutter slightly. But with dutch courage in your system, you simply roll your eyes.

“Well it doesn’t feel like you have missed me at all,” You murmur, leaning heavily against the wall of the club watching the nightlife before you.

“You know that's not true and I’m only going to ask you this one more time Y/N. Where are you?”

“Eye spy with my little eye, something being with L.” You giggle at your attempt of humour giggling loudly as Tammy huffs on the other side of the phone.

“Hilarious babe, really.”

“You're supposed to say Lamppost,silly!” You exclaim, hiccuping in between your sentence making you giggle once more.

“I’m coming to get you,” Tammy states, you can hear her moving around as if gathering her keys and heading for the door but not before hearing her and Lou argue about who’s going to get you. You sigh in defeat, knowing you have had far too much to drink and secretly want to go home so you can wrap yourself up in their warmth.

“I’m at Russo’s.” You mumble, sulking in defeat before hanging up. Your colleague Matt pops his head out of the door scanning the smoking area, looking for you. He sees you and waves before striding over.

“Hey Y/N! Come back inside, Lucy is bringing another round to the table. We’re celebrating in style tonight sweetheart.” You cringe subtly at the pet name before smiling weakly at him.

“I’m actually waiting for my ride. I think I’ve reached my limit for the night.” You try to joke making him laugh a little too much, he steps closer to you and leans against the wall next to you as he lights a cigarette before offering you one. You shake your head in decline before scanning the street hoping to see Tammy’s ‘soccer mom’ car.

“You look amazing tonight, by the way. Those two women sure are lucky.” Matt compliments, his eyes scanning you from head to toe lingering too long on your chest making you wrap your leather jacket around you, hiding from his lustful look. You step back to try and put some distance between you.

“Oh uh, thank you and if anyone should be the lucky one it’s definitely me.” You state trying to put the point across.

Fuck off!

“Have you ever thought of expanding this ‘little relationship’ to four people or is it a women’s only type of thing?” You gape at him in disgust as he shrugs his shoulders and smiles cheekily thinking he’s being charming. Before you can retaliate you feel a strong arm wrap around you from behind, making you smile slightly knowing that familiar pull of electricity.

“We are perfectly happy with the three of us Mr.Lawson, if you would kindly remove yourself away from my girlfriend before I send you back in there with an even higher pitched voice than before that would be much appreciated,” Tammy suggests, her voice hard and commanding making you shiver slightly at her authoritative tone. She stands tall in her heels, putting herself slightly in front of you, blocking his view of you. You watch as he gulps and stutters over his words, his face red in embarrassment as he stumbles an apology before heading back inside. You go to tease her about throwing her top energy around like that in front of others outside of the bedroom but her face shows that she’s in no laughing mood, you throw her your most doe eyed look making her sigh in defeat; never being able to stay mad at you.

“Come on baby, let’s get you home.” She mutters into your ear as she pulls you closer to her side while guiding you over towards her car.

You fumble around trying to get comfortable in the seat, once situated you relax against the warm seat as it heats up around you making you sigh contently. You lean your head to the side and face Tammy, taking in her soft features and full lips as the street lights hit her side profile making her look like an angel.

“You’re so pretty,” You mumble to her, as you brush a finger across her cheek lightly and tuck a loose strand of blonde hair behind her ear.

“And you are drunk, darling,” She teases back dismissively, although her soft smile and tinge of pink on her cheeks shows how affected she is by your statement. You grin lazily at her as you feel sleep succumb bringing you into darkness.

***

You wake by the sound of Tammy’s whispering voice coaxing you awake.

“Come on darling, you need to wake up. You can’t stay in here all night,” She whispers, shaking you slightly.

“5 more minutes, mom.” You mumble, turning away from her making her laugh out loud which causes you to wake, eyes wide at your slip up.

“Wait, say that again.” She asks, subtly getting her phone out.

“You better put that phone away Tammy or I’m going to stay with Debbie for the night.” You threaten, knowing how jealous her and Lou get whenever Debbie flirts with you to tease her best friends; which you are more than happy to go along with. She scowls playfully.

“Fine fine, come on then, you lightweight. We better get in before Lou sends out a search party for the both of us.” She murmurs, climbing out of her side and walking around to help you out of the car. You frown suddenly realising that it was only Tammy who came to get you.

“Is she still really mad at me?” You ask sadly, starting to sober up slightly and relaying the fight from earlier in your head.

Tammy helps you out of the vehicle and wraps an arm around your waist before giving you a reassurance kiss on your temple.

“Yes… but not as pissed off as she was earlier on. She… we both know we’ve been rather neglectful of you lately and we promise to make it up to you.” She confesses, her eyes showing how sorry she is.

“I’m sorry for acting out like I did… I know how important it is to make sure the job runs smoothly, I should have been more understanding. I’m sorry Tam-Tam.’ You apologise, pecking her cheek lightly.

You both walk steadily through the front door but stop in your tracks when you notice Lou sitting casually on one of the single chairs in the living room area, her legs spread wide in her black suit pants and white open button shirt revealing a peek of her black bra making you and Tammy gulp.

“Lou I..” She holds her hand up, silencing your apology.

“Did he touch you?” You frown in confusion not fully understanding her meaning.

“Who?”

“That guy from work, did he touch you?”

“How do you know about th-”

“Nine-ball,” you all say in unison, although Lou and Tammy’s casual tone in answer contrasting with your pissed off one doesn’t go unnoticed by either woman.

“You were checking up on me through the security cameras!? Nice to know that not only am I a selfish brat, I'm also an unloyal one,” You snap towards them both as Tammy reaches for your hand, making you step back.

“You know that’s not the reason, love. We didn’t know where you were, we needed to make sure you were safe,” Lou reasons for them both while Tammy nods in agreement, moving towards the middle space between you and Lou.

“Oh because you care so much, fuck you both and your possessive asses.” You snapped in reply.

“Trust me, you haven’t seen me possessive yet sweetheart.” She says cockily as Tammy hums in agreement, clearly staying mutual within this argument you think sarcastically.

“Well maybe I should go back out there and find him then, let’s see the real Tammy and Lou.“ You taunt, watching as both Tammy and Lou’s eyes flash dark, making your confident smug attitude flutter slightly.

“Go fuck yourself,” Lou spats clearing hitting a nerve, making you retaliate.

“How about you fuck me yourself, you coward?!” You fight back, not realising that during your heated argument Tammy had slowly made her way behind you. You watch as Lou’s tense figure deflates. Her crystal blues flash with lust, swallowing quietly knowing that look all too well; the look that haunts your wet dreams whenever you’re apart from them.

“Is that what you want Y/N, you want us to show you who you belong to?” Lou questions grinning slightly, knowing that's exactly what you want while standing from the chair and stalking over towards you. She rolls up her sleeves slowly revealing the tattoos on her forearm as Tammy stands behind you placing her hands on either side of your hip keeping you in place, smirking knowingly. You shiver in anticipation, loving when they both take control over you.

“I dunno Lou. Do you think she deserves it after the stunt she’s pulled tonight?” Tammy questions Lou as if you weren’t trapped between the two women as Lou creeps dangerously closer, you bite your lip trying to hold back a moan as you feel Tammy’s wet tongue trace the shell of your ear. You watch as those blue eyes grow darker as they follow the direction of Tammy’s tongue carefully. Lou presses her front against your own; chest to chest, her nose brushing over yours before moving over your cheekbone and towards your ear, you watch from the corner of your eye as Tammy and Lou share a heated kiss over your shoulder making you groan loudly. This seems to draw their attention away from each other, their matching grins doing nothing to help the creeping wave of pleasure that ignites deep within your core.

“Oh look Tam, it seems our darling girl wants our attention. Do you think we should give it to her?”

‘Yes!’ You scream internally. Tammy laughs and takes sympathy to your doe-eyed expression gently cupping your face and turning you slightly towards her so she can place a chaste kiss on your lips.

“I think we should... Besides we owe her an apology, I’m sure we can make it up to her.” Tammy mutters between placing quick wet kisses along the side of your jaw and neck. With that Lou swoops in and lifts you over her shoulder making you yelp out loud causing Tammy to giggle at her girlfriend’s actions before she slaps your ass and shushes you while she races ahead up the stairs, her hips swaying showing Lou her plump behind. You hear Lou growl low at Tammy’s teasing demeanor as she follows slowly after her up the stairs mindful of you being over her shoulder.

“Oh, am I just some sort of slave that you can carry around, you caveman?” You accuse, earning you a slap on the ass.

“Ow! Watch it Miller. You know how tender my ass is,”

“And I can’t wait to see that gorgeous ass all red on our bed, baby.” You squirm at that making Lou chuckle.

She carries you into your shared bedroom before slowly lowering you down making you brush fronts as your feet touch the ground. She places a tender kiss to your mouth before looking over your shoulder and grinning, her eyes filled with glee and admiration. You turn around to face the bed, understanding Lou’s expression. Sitting upright against the headboard on top of satin sheets wearing a black lingerie babydoll set is Tammy. You lick your lips at the sight of her, drinking her in.

“Did you have this on underneath those ‘mom’ clothes?” You tease, watching her roll her eyes at your poorly timed humor, loving it nevertheless. Her smirk confirms your suspicions. You watch as she slowly makes her way towards you both crawling on her hands and knees until she reaches the bottom of the bed, she kneels tall and beckons you both closer. You follow her call like a pirate to a siren as you are about to touch her, Lou wraps an arm around you, her chin against your shoulder.

“You are far too overdressed,” she whispers huskily into your ear, as she slowly unzips the back of your dress letting it fall to the floor in a heap before placing sweet kisses along your shoulder blades and spanking your ass hard. You close your eyes at the sensation and the feeling of cold air hitting against your warm skin, you feel a second pair of hands skim over your front tracing light touches across your chest before wrapping gently around your neck pulling your forward an inch as full luscious lips meet your own making you both moan in unison. You open your eyes and meet deep brown pools so full of love and passion.

“Now, who's the one overdressed?” You tease making Tammy smirk mischievously before you both draw your attention to Lou who has left staggered marks along your neck and shoulder. She pulls away slightly and smirks as she unfastens the buttons of her dress shirt, you crotch in front of her and yank her suit trousers down in one sweep letting her step of them, you kiss your way back up her body while Tammy pushes her shirt off her shoulders, leaving us all equally in some state of undressed. Tammy grabs hold of your hand and pulls you towards the bed letting you fall onto your back as she crawls to lie beside you leaving trails of kisses up your body, you eye Lou who stands tall and confident at the foot of the bed in just her briefs; her bra now discarded into the pile of clothes on the floor. She slowly makes her way onto the bed as she licks, bites and kisses her way up your leg towards your inner thigh making you moan and clench slightly.

“You can only cum if one of us says okay baby girl.” Tammy commands softly into your ear, you whimper and nod your head in agreement as Lou pulls your panties down your leg before placing a light kiss against your wet heat making you shudder at the sensitive flesh. Before you could catch your breath Lou dives her tongue deep into your entrance, fucking you with her tongue as Tammy wraps her mouth around your sensitive nipple biting gently, making you moan out loud with pleasure. They both continue their tongue motion over and over again making your body hot and wet with need for release but with Tammy’s words swirling around in your head, you hold off from releasing your pleasure. Lou slowly removes her tongue from your wet folds and presses a kiss on your clit before soaring forward to Tammy and kissing her hard and clumsily letting her tongue tangle with hers, they both moan enjoying the taste of you. You lick your lips at the raw sight of them both above you and whine for their attention as they both look back towards you once again.

“Come on now. Dear. Let’s not torture her any longer,” Tammy teases, pulling away from Lou’s lips.

Lou moves to your other side and lets her tongue skim across your bottom lip before pressing her pale lips more firmly against your own, you feel another pair of lips on your own; the taste of vanilla lingers on your mouth knowing Tammy has joined you both in the fight for dominance as tongues tangle and clash together. You pull apart slowly savouring the moment before Tammy moves south towards your legs, wrapping her delicate hands around your ankles and pulling you further down the bed slightly. You frown in confusion before realising she was making room for Lou to sit comfortably above you with her thighs on either side of your face, you can see her arousal from above you making you whimper in want, licking your lips eagerly. You can practically hear the smirk in her voice:

“Always so eager baby,” she teases, lowering herself a little bit more towards your awaiting mouth. You flick the tip of your tongue over her clit making her squirm and gasp you grin smugly knowing exactly where she likes it the most before taking the sensitive bundle of nerves between your teeth and wrapping your mouth around it, sucking hard. Your mouth releases her clit momentarily as you gasp at the feeling of two cold fingers filling your entrance and curling, hitting your most sensitive spot making you cry out as Tammy picks up her pace.

“So wet and needy tonight darling.” She mutters before diving between your legs and taking your clit into her mouth. You feel Lou’s thighs tighten a fraction around your head making you refocus back onto the enjoyable task of making Lou come. You all continue to rile each other up, picking up your pace, thrusting your tongue deeper into her heat as you grind your hips further onto Tammy’s fingers. Tammy moans as she moves to sit in between your thigh as you bend your knee just enough to add pressure against her wet folds allowing her to grind herself against your bare skin, you bring your thumb over to her clit rubbing the sensitive nerves hard making her moan loudly. The room fills with loud cries of passion as desperate bodies continue to thrust against one another, the knot in your stomach begins to become tighter, you squint your eyes trying to hold off your orgasm.

“Come for us baby, I want to hear you scream.” Lou breathes above you as she grinds hard one more time before allowing her own release. Lou removes herself from above you and lies lazily on her side facing you both, rubbing her fingers over her heat while she watches you and Tammy continue to grind roughly against one another; your fingers working faster and deeper as you both throw your head back in pure ecstasy letting yourself ride out your orgasm on Tammy’s fingers. Tammy collapses against your glistening skin leaning her head against your shoulder as you brush your fingertips softly against her back making her purr ever so slightly. Lou moves from her position and sits upright against the headboard gesturing for you both to join her, Tammy removes herself from your lap as you crawl over to Lou’s awaiting arms and curl into her side. Tammy moves to your other side and drapes an arm over your waist resting her hand gently on Lou’s hip, brushing her thumb back and forth; resting her forehead between your shoulder blades. You feel Tammy’s warm breath against your glistening skin as she speaks softly.

“You belong with us Y/N. Don’t ever think we don’t love you or want you...we wouldn’t be us without you” With that said, she presses a light kiss to your back while Lou hums in agreement pulling you closer, her arm reaching across locking you in between their embrace, you smile cheekily.

“So does this mean I’m still a brat?”

A slight pinch to your hip bone is your only reply.

#lou miller x reader #tammy x reader #I'm a hoe for lou miller and Tammy #prompt request #oceans 8 #lou x tammy #poly relationship #smut fic #cate blanchett x reader #sarah paulson x reader

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not-a-statement · 6 years ago

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Chasing ghosts. Chapter 2

So for some reason I can’t edit my masterlist for this story. On of us - me or tumblr - is definitely a clumsy fool.

Anyway, it’s been a long time but here I post again. This chapter introduces original characters and focuses on them exclusively.

Critics and opinions are always appreciated.

Baton Rouge,LA, January 23, 2035

The general office of the State Police Department was filled with sounds and people typical for Monday morning. Investigators, detectives, even a couple of court clerks were moving slowly between the work tables. Phones ringing, Maggie's coffee machine softly grumbling, detective Nate Parker rants about his little rendez vous with a couple of girls past weekend, which caused an occasional bursts of laughter from a small group of listeners. Someone’s complaining about son, who’s got yet another detention at school. That scallywag was caught smoking in the school closet during lunch break. “I mean, come on! What’s the school’s backyard is for? What’s wrong with these children?”

All this leaving no chances at all for detective Robert Brooks to focus on completing the report. Frankly, if there was anything consistent to write then probably no excuses could take place. The missing was found the week prior in the Pine Prairie area - one of the tourists called the police and said that near the shore of Lake Millers lied a body of a dead girl dressed in a white light dress. By the time detectives and the team of medical experts arrived, a decent crowd of onlookers gathered around the corpse, hence searching for traces at the crime scene wouldn’t be for big avail.

What else?

There’s no doubt that the victim was killed - even though the lungs were full of liquid and the fact that clothes and skin of the deceased were pretty much hinting that she’s spent plenty of time in the water, a rope trace was found on her neck. So, the drowning was staged.

By whom?

Well, here’s where interesting questions start.

No wonder why the crime scene was so crowded - case after case were quaking the whole country. People kept disappearing in a daylight - single men and women of different ages, usually without family and friends - those who wouldn’t be immediately claimed missing. Generally the search would last for about a week or two only to let detectives stand before such corpses (and it could’ve been worse, if one believed Nate the Chatter Box) or find victims alive but absolutely insane. Wearing rags, disoriented, and with no memory at all, no one even remembered their names.

People were frightened. And no one had even a small clue, even a hint, about this maniac’s whereabouts or appearance. His work was flawless - every time a new case appeared in press, this bastard’s already in another state. Probably.

At least everything looked like that - no one had accurate information. And, which was a very bad thing to say, such cases were a nightmare for any detective - perfect addition to the record. There were adventurers, of course, who wanted to catch their own Zodiac, but most people were genuinely concerned about their careers.

And so it happened that careerist Brooks was not only brought to a partner of the adventurer Tam Bennett, and more so, he was appointed to investigate such a case.

Robert sighed, once again glancing over the printed report page on the computer screen.

Elizabeth Arthrisha Marlowe, born in 2019, blah blah blah ... Numerous abrasions on the arms in the forearm, blah blah ... The time of death was determined between 9 pm and midnight on January 17 of this year ... and more rubbish. Seriously, what else to write?

When he and Tam just started the investigation about two weeks prior Robert was saving hope that that time would be a fluke. Children and adolescents haven’t figured in such cases so far, and a sixteen-year-old girl could go to carouse with friends, or with some guy - anything. But the fact was bulletproof - the corpse of Lake Millers was identified, parents were heartbroken, Captain Hernandez was constantly inspecting for progress on the case, and Bennett was obsessed with all sorts of theories. Or women.

Where is, by the way, that boy this time? Monday, ten in the morning! Wasn’t it Tam who kept calling me all Sunday while I tried to spend the day off with family, and reminded of all the chores to do on Monday? That’s not even funny.

Okay...This won’t work. Perhaps the morning coffee-tobacco ritual will help clear the thoughts? Yes, sounds good. A cup of Colombian black with cream, a spoon of cane Mexican sugar and a pinch of cinnamon in a compartment with a cigarette and fresh morning air. The first good idea for today, Brooks.

Robert got up from his desk stretched and headed for the dispatcher's counter. After receiving his equivalent of the Holy Grail from Maggie, he passed the doors leading to the office, a corridor filled with civilians who were brought here or who came by their own will, then the hall and finally went into the parking lot in front of the department building. The weather was pleasing, here and there, however, small flocks of clouds were gathering, but the sun was shining warmly. The city, long awakened, performed a symphony of the weekday - passing pickup trucks and small cars, ordinary townspeople and important birds like lawyers and real estate agents scurrying around here and there. You could even hear a heavy truck driving in the distance.

Someday all this will be rewarded, Brooks thought, releasing cigarette smoke and slowly sipping from a mug with the inscription "Best Daddy in the World". Another five years, and I’ll be in higher position, and five more - and here comes the retirement. A small house in California somewhere in Palo Alto, a neat little garden for my Mary and a home winery for both of us. Our Aaron and Lucy would come over for Christmas, Thanksgiving, Easter ... imagine - a festive table with the family and you are sitting at the head of the table. What else can you dream about? Life will be like this cup of coffee - warm, reliable and with a very long aftertaste, if sipping small ...

“Aaaaaah!!!!”

Mother of…!!!

Brooks threw up his hands in surprise, spilling half the contents of the mug on the sidewalk. Thank God not on a work shirt.

"Are you trying to give me a heart attack at thirty-seven?" he yelled into Bennett's laughing face, sticking out of the silver Volkswagen’s window. Tam's hand was still on the honk.

"Seriously," he panted through his laughter, "you would see your face, Bob! Standing there, caught up in a daydream, and then this - Aaaaah!”

He mocked Robert’s grimace of horror.

That laughing blond face was so tempting to throw the rest of coffee at it! First he’s late for work, and now he decided to mock me!

All right, calm down, Robert, calm down. It would be disrespectful on your part to respond to the pranks of this toddler overgrown.

"Not funny, Tam," he said, trying to sound dignified, "what took you so long, by the way?"

“Oh, oh, oh! " Tam started fidgeting in the seat, shaking his arms around him.

"Wait ... where was it ..."

He began to search for something, bending in all imaginable and unthinkable directions. The front passenger seat, glove compartment, pockets on the doors, even under his feet. As Tam reached there, his head fell on the steering wheel with a swing, causing one more honk.

"Just find a spot and park already" Brooks said, rubbing the bridge of his nose with two fingers, pain in his voice. Seriously, not a partner, but a complete disappointment.

After Bennett parked his car in the far corner of the parking lot, and Brooks reached the porch of the building, finishing his coffee (great, the sugar at the bottom did not dissolve completely, and now the last sips are too sweet, splendid), they exchanged a handshake and went inside.

"I'm still waiting for the answer, young man" Robert said as strictly as he could as they crossed the hall.

"First, I'm not your son," replied Tam, smiling. "And second, I decided that I’d make you a surprise."

"What surprise for God’s sake? What are you up to again?”

"Don’t worry, Bobby, you'll like it! Very much!”

"Can you at least pretend sometimes that you're a professional?” Robert didn’t like all those glances from people around, attracted by Tam's enthusiastic exclamations.

"Nah, I'm gorgeous just as I am" Bennett shrugged as they approached the door leading to the general office.

"Take the keys and wait for me at your car. Mine is... umm ... not in the purest condition today. I need to go to Sam, I'll be back in a moment”.

“Oh for love of...”

"Maggie! My doll!” - Bennett exclaimed, pressing his lips to the hand of the dispatcher, who immediately blushed and playfully giggled. The white blouse, she was wearing, obviously lacked buttons in certain places, which caused a lot of discomfort to Brooks. Bennett, apparently, didn’t mind this kind of view.

"How was the weekend, my sugar? Had many men kneeled?”

"I think you'd know better, detective," Maggie purred innocently "or am I wrong?"

Really? In front of the whole office, these two would exchange so unconcealed expressions of passion and lust? Where’s the ethics committee when you need one?

"I'd love to know more ... dig a little deeper if you let me put it this way ..."

Wow! Okay, not listening to this! Gross and obnoxious!

"All in good time, detective. But next time you shouldn’t forget your promises about ... special equipment.”

The phone rang at the dispatcher's desk, putting an end to this vulgar scene much to Robert's relief. While Maggie, still crimson and still with a half-detached blouse, were answering the call, Tam winked at his partner and pronounced "handcuffs" with his lips, pointing his finger in the direction of that spicy’s lover. Just like a student at a dorm party.

"Don’t forget the keys!" he added, quickly moving away from the counter in the direction of Captain Hernandez office “I'll be in a sec!”

Brooks stayed where he stood, setting the mug on the counter.

Here we go. Got nothing else to do but to stand here and wonder what this scoundrel has in mind. Every time. Every goddamn time. Easy to wound up with a half-turn, and everybody better run away within a radius of a couple of miles around. Cars soar into the air, tiles fly from the houses’ roofs, women in panic, children crying. A real hurricane. Safe for the name - Tam, not Andrew.

"It's not even the first month that he works here. Sam lectures him constantly, I give instructions, and look at him. Always jumping ahead, as if his head’s made of stone and will demolish any wall” Robert thought out loud “what's even going on in his brain? ..”

"Dunno much about the head, Bob," Maggie said in a caramel voice reappearing at the counter, dreamily slapping her eyelashes, "but trust me, what's going on in his pants ..."

"You know what, I already regret saying it out loud!" Jesus Christ, would this vulgarity scene come to an end already?!

Brooks got to his desk and sat down in the armchair. The plan for today, which could hardly be called consistent as it was, began to become completely insane. First the report, which he had nothing to write in, then spilled coffee, all sorts of bedtime insinuations - yes, Robert knew what sex was and where the children came from, he himself was a father, but that's too much - and now it's time to arm with a trowel and a little plastic bag to walk this boy. We ought to find a leash. Maggie probably would have one ...

No, no, that's a bad joke. Very bad.

Okay, probably the report can be a time killer, while Tam’s chatting with the captain. It’s not like time killers are always pleasing but what you gonna do, right?

At least there were some people who’d probably be happy with whatever Brooks wrote for a report of an adolescent girl’s horrifying murder. Newspaper editors.

It looked like they’re making it a competition to draw more attention to their source of information compared to competitors. "The Oregon maniac visits Louisiana." "Yet another reason to use the door chain." "Mysterious kids killer at large".

Blah blah blah. Scribblers.

Of course the case is serious and everybody mourns for the girl and prays for her parents to smother their misery, but is it really necessary to play with people's hearts like that? Add in the photo plastered on the front page - a police tape in the foreground and a bunch of people crowding behind it. Fresh stuff, just from the crime scene.

On Friday evening, when Brooks was about to leave home, anticipating a delicious chicken breast with Parmesan and eggplant for dinner, he found Nate and Tam in the interrogation room, staring intently at that exact photo from the newspaper. Enthusiasts. They say that the criminal always returns to the crime scene. So both decided to play bloodhounds. Also Robert could smell some booze in the room too, so...

On the other hand, if one took a sober look at things, then there wasn’t anything consistent either. No traces, no clues, even the smallest. Absolute zero. Robert had already suggested Hernandez to hand over the case to the special squad to take that burden of a case off his shoulders, but every time that question popped up Sam would just grin and pat Brooks on the shoulder.

"Bob, what are talking about? You have such an experience, such record! And what a chance to be a mentor to the young one!"

Sounds easier than it is...

“Surprise!” a folder fell sharply on the table in front of Brooks.

Oh my God…

“Cheer up, partner!" Tam said, plopping down in the armchair opposite to Brooks. "We have a case!"

"Um, I know," Robert raised an eyebrow, "and you always find an excuse to slick away"

"No, you don’t understand, Bobby." Bennett majestically placed his palm on the folder, touching it with his fingertips, and slowly moved it towards Brooks. "We have a case."

Robert, still looking suspiciously at the youngster, took the folder and opened it, going into reading. Photo, name, surname, lots and lots of text. With every line he read, the hope to at least somehow bring the present day to an acceptable level, was slipping away. It seemed that having a leash wasn’t a joking idea, but a very real necessity.

Brooks gave his partner a glance full of fatigue and disappointment.

“Well, am I good at making surprises or am I the best?” Bennett's brows creased conspiratorially.

"Please tell me this is a joke ..."

“Why?”

“Tam, I’m begging you.”

"What's wrong, Bob?"

Brooks heaved a deep sigh and began to read aloud.

“Mabel Jessica Pines, born in 1999, Piedmont, California. According to her landlords arrived on January 18 of this year from the city of New York. According to Smiths couple - owners of the apartment at 881 West Roosevelt Street Miss Pines rented - she came across as a modest, quiet woman, not particularly talkative and constantly thoughtful. Her interests were the surroundings, especially the University of Louisiana and Manchac swamps. Mr and Mrs. Smith also noted that she preferred not to answer questions about family and relatives. Only said that she was married, but got divorced a few years ago. Wasn’t seen participating in any phone calls. On the 20th of January she left the rented apartment and never came back. Was dressed in a gray coat and a long skirt, carrying a medium-sized travel bag and a mobile phone, which she stopped responding around 7 pm. Left a laptop and a notebook in the apartment”.

Brooks put down the folder and brought his hands to the bridge of his nose, resting his elbows on the countertop.

"Great, isn’t it?" exclaimed Tam. “Full set - you’ve got clues and description! All we need to do is restore her route, trace each her step, find her perso... What?”

Brooks, still holding his hands on the bridge of his nose, pointed to his partner with his finger, as if asking him to plug his fountain of enthusiasm.

"What's bothering, Bobby?"

Calm down, Robert, calm down. You are reasonable, smart man. You’ve had many of such conversations with your young son Aaron. It's the same, no differences.

"Bob, you're straining me."

Easy, easy. I'm straining him, you see. Well, well, let it be, a little bit of tension didn’t kill anyone so far. I'm still alive.

"Listen, you're breathing as if you've gone too far with pepper in the soup, Bobby.”

All right, that's enough.

Robert slowly raised his head, holding his hands together at the tip of his nose. He was breathing really deep and quite noisy.

"First," he began softly, clearing his throat, "call me Bobby one more time and you'll be riding in the back seat. And second, we have no new case. Foot down”.

Tam whistled.

“Hmm, mate, you're …”

"Let me ask you something" interrupted Robert, "when you accepted this case, which part of your organism was functioning as a thinking part?"

“What does it have to do with it? It's such an opportunity!”

“What opportunity? Tell me" Brooks asked, still keeping his coolness.

Tam looked at him with an expression of complete perplexity a second or two, then leaned forward and began:

“Listen. What’s the main problem we had with the Marlowe’s case?”

“The case itself.”

“I'm serious.”

“You don’t say! You know how to be serious?”

"Look, this isn’t funny” Tam frowned. "Our main problem was time which we’re lacking of. What did we initially know about the Marlowe girl? Almost nothing, neither where most likely she could go, nor her full circle of acquaintances. So no one expected that her loss could be just such a case.”

“What case?”

"Such a case" Bennett pointed to the folder, "clear as day."

Brooks raised his eyebrows.

"Give me at least a hint because I don’t really understand ..."

“There’s nothing to understand here. A lonely woman, from another city. Comes to nowhere and almost immediately disappears!” Bennett could barely restrain himself from being excited. "This is our Oregon maniac, I'm telling you."

Well, here you go.

When it comes to do paperwork, he has plan for the evening. And when it comes to burden me with additional stress, so he's first in line. It’s already becoming unbearable. How do I explain him?

"Ok, Tam," Robert said, restrainedly. "Here’s what we’ll do. You’ll take this muck to where you took it, wash your hands with soap and then we'll go to your piano tutor.”

Bennett made an uncomprehending face.

“Seriously. We are not taking this case and that’s final. We've had enough trouble with that Marlowe girl" Tam started to protest, but Brooks stopped him, lifting both his hands “No, I'm saying that’s enough. Get yourself a notebook, call it "My hasty conclusions that have nothing to do with reality" and write down all your speculation there.”

Robert got up from the table and began to pull on his jacket.

“Now you and I will get in the car, go for a coffee and do some work.”

With these words, Brooks took his car keys from the table, checked once more whether the token that hung on his belt of trousers was there and was ready to the exit the office when Bennett found something to say:

"So you'll go to Sam yourself?"

“For what?” Brooks froze half a turn, looking back at his partner.

Bennett just shrugged.

“Well, to tell him personally that you refuse to take the case, which he himself commissioned, for example?”

Sam did what?

“Come again.”

"The captain of the state police department assigns us a case, and you stand against the decision of your superiors." Bennett smiled ingenuously. “Pretty brave of you, I must say.”

Oh no. No no no.

So it’s not Tam? Can this day get any worse?

Brooks sighed noisily and lowered his head, staring at his polished black boots. How many thresholds were overstepped by these guys, how many pursuits for criminals and capture operations they saw. How many times did Brooks polish them to shine, to look neat, while receiving a new title or listening a praise for a successfully disclosed case. How long have they gone and for what? In order to soon go to the dump together with the Robert’s career.

The vision of the house in California again appeared before him and immediately melted in a light haze. Nothing of the sort will happen if the captain continues to charge Robert with such hopeless cases and companions.

“So what?” Tam behind Brooks pointedly looked at his watch. “What did you say about coffee? Can we grab a cup for Sam? Well, you know, as a sign of respect and …”

"Come on ..." Robert muttered softly.

“Sorry, what?”

Brooks raised his eyes to the ceiling and repeated a little more distinctly:

“Come. On”

Bennett, grinning in a broad smile, instantly jumped from his seat, grabbed a folder from the table and flew past a still motionless partner, slapping him along the shoulder.

“That’s more like it!” he proclaimed joyfully. “New case, baby!”

Would you just shut up already an unfortunate thought flew through Robert's head as he sadly followed Tam out of the office.

***

“And she had very kind eyes. Hazel” Brooks looked into his notebook. Yes, this phrase has sounded for the third or fourth time for those half an hour from the time that detectives arrived to the landlords of the missing.

“Kind, but very sad eyes …”

"Yes, Mrs. Smith, I think I wrote it down," Robert said, holding out his hand to his cup of tea on the coffee table in front of him. Mr. Smith tumbled in the room noisily puffing, holding an ashtray in one hand while the second was already groping for his pocket.

“Anna really liked the girl” Mr. Smith perched in a chair next to his wife. The ashtray was placed on a table next to the cup of Brooks, and in the pocket finally found the coveted pack of cigarettes. A mischievous smile played on Mr. Smith's lips.

"Henry, for heaven's sake!" His wife threw up her hands. "How many times have I asked you not to smoke in the house! You know, my back does not welcome airing so often.”

"You can bear it once a week honey" Henry brought his lit-up match to a cigarette with trembling fingers then inhaled and immediately fell into a ruthless throaty cough.

Anna Smith shook her head worriedly, looking at her husband, and turned to the detective:

"I told him that forty years of smoking would make some consequences. Imagine - he wasn’t listening to me until he laid down on the surgery table! Who knew that you can get a tumor like that, right?”

"Benign," Henry finally cleared his throat, "it was benign, my dear. And the main thing I’m still in one piece. Head, hands, legs” he winked at the detective and folded his old mouth into a grin like a little mischievous schoolboy.

“And what’s betw…”

"When you, ahem ..." Robert hastily intervened to stop the phrase, which beginning wasn’t biding anything good "when you applied, you mentioned that Mabel reluctantly talked about herself. I believe that you’ve learned at least something about her?”

"Yes detective but very, very little." Mrs. Smith clasped her fingers and put them to her forehead, concentrating on something.

"She said she came from New York," her husband said, releasing a cloud of blue smoke, "god knows what called her to our backwoods ..."

"Oh shush, Henry." Mrs. Smith shook her finger in vexation. "I'm sure detective knows already where the girl came from."

“Can I clarify the question?” Brooks put the notebook aside on the table. “The bartender from the diner near the bus station mentioned that in a conversation with him Mabel said that she came in search for someone. Didn’t she tell you the same thing? Maybe mentioned who it was?”

"Ah, poor thing! Did she have to eat breakfast there?” Mrs. Smith shook her head in frustration. "If she came at once, I would feed her with a decent breakfast. What kind of muck could she be offered there?”

"They used to have good burgers," Henry shook the ashes, "at least five years ago, when I last had them ..."

“Nonsense! Burger for breakfast?”

“Ahem. Mrs. Smith …”

"Yes, sorry" Anna turned her attention to Brooks. "No, she didn’t say anything like that to us. She was married, that's all I know about her life. But her husband didn’t interest her very much, as far as I can tell. I did not see a ring as a lock, so he’s probably still alive. Maybe he was quite a scoundrel”

"And what’s her husband's name?"

Anna just shook her head.

"Forgive me, detective, but I never heard it from her."

From above came the sound of the door being opened, followed by hasty steps down the stairs. Found something a thought rushed through Robert's head. A moment later, Tam appeared in the room. His face was ... disappointed?

"Mrs. Smith, you wrote in a application that Mabel had a laptop and a notebook."

"That's right, young man, she left them in her room."

Brooks stared at his partner's face, puzzled. Tam only shook his head briefly.

"Is something wrong, gentlemen?"

"Have you left your house in the last couple of days?"

"Just to do shopping yesterday afternoon ... what happened?"

Brooks rose abruptly, and they both hastily rushed to the stairs to the second floor. Mabel's room was nothing particularly noteworthy - a bed, a desk, a window and four walls. Things were lying neatly, the bed was made. It seemed that the guest had left a minute ago.

“Checked the window sill?”

“Yes, it’s dusty as if no one touched it for several years”

“A lock on the door?”

“Just a latch, any fool would open without a trace ..”.

Brooks slowly walked to the table, on which was a layer of dust accumulated over the past few days. All the items seemed to be in their places, but two square spots were barely noticeable near the edge, in which dust seemed to sink.The distance between the spots was about 9 inches, as between the pads of a small laptop.

"I think we're done here" Robert muttered.

***

"So someone broke into the house at night, or when the hosts were not there," Robert and Tam were driving away from the Smiths' house toward the police department, "I think we both understand that it was our client."

“Here you go, drawing conclusions again!” Brooks briefly honked the driver who was still standing on the green traffic light signal.

"Maybe it's our client, or maybe just a burglar."

“Burglar who took only a laptop?”

"Did you have time to inspect the rest of the house? Found anything valuable?”

“No, but …”

“Exactly. Maybe he was in a hurry”

“Come on, you're just looking for an excuse not to solve for 2 and 2”

“I'm looking for an excuse to conduct an investigation of a case imposed on me correctly”

"Come on, Bobby, this is an adventure! Now we write a request to New York, find her family ... hey, need to have a leak?”

Robert pulled over and stopped abruptly. After that, he turned his head staring at his partner intensely.

“What?”

Brooks slowly moved his head toward the back seat.

"What’s that?" Bennett looked back “I can’t see anyth…”

Coming to a realization he slowly turned and gave his partner an incredulous look.

"Are you kidding me?"

Robert shook his head sarcastically.

"You're not serious."

"Very serious, Tam." Brooks looked at his watch briefly. "Hurry up, we're running late."

Rolling his eyes Bennett leaned back in his seat looking up above while groping for the handle. Twenty seconds later, when he got into the back seat and slammed the door behind him, Robert said with satisfaction:

"You have to bear responsibility for your words and deeds, dear Tam. Welcome to the world of adults”

He heard a loud raspberry being blown from behind and noticed in the rearview mirror that Bennett was now staring out of the window with his arms folded.

“Who I'm talking to though…” Robert tiredly complained without addressing anyone “Seriously, my eight-year-old son behaves more adequately”

He accelerated and detectives continued their way to the department building.

#chasing ghosts #pinecest #not a statement at all

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theexiledgeneral · 6 years ago

Text

(I said I’d take him out for drinks)

"Alright," Tamara slammed her hand down on the table. "We are way too sober for this. Let's go get some fresh air."

By air of course, she meant a nice cantina out of the way where they could speak quietly, but not empty enough that they would be recognized or remembered. Gently grabbing a hold of Atton’s shoulder, she walked him off the ship. Tam stared at Atton's back, almost as if waiting for him to collapse. A part of her wasn't even expecting to get half of his backstory - he always had a way of flashing her his trademark sardonic smile and distracting her in so many other ways that by the time she'd come around to the topic of him the moment would have flown by.

He seemed ok, even as they trudged down the grassy slopes of whatever planet they were on, and even after three empty Juma glasses were lined up in front of them on a tiny table in a dingy cantina.

In truth it hadn't been that long since they'd left the ship. She was nursing her fourth glass now that she was finally starting to feel the effects.

Atton sat in front of her with his face slightly less impassive as ever, rolling around the last bit of Juma in his glass. He was staring at her.

It took more time and a few more glasses before she sighed and leaned back in her chair, watching the ebb and flow of patrons in the now-full cantina.

"Guess we're both kinda fucked up, huh."

He chuckled, "Sounds about right. Figures, you'd find someone like me to hang around with. You always had a knack for picking up low lifes."

She stabbed a finger down into the table, "Hey, first of all, I am proud of my status as General of the throwaways," she couldn't keep her serious expression as Atton broke into a wide grin, "and secondly, like attracts like, eh?"

A tiny Rodian female had been crooning some soft songs in Rodese for the past half an hour or so, and now she stood up and switched places with a yellow-skinned Twi'lek, clad in shimmering blue cloth that was just transparent enough to leave things to the imagination.

Tam had a thought, and she grinned and stood up, for the first time enjoying the light giddiness that she knew wasn't only because of the glasses of Juma laid out between her and Atton on the table. She grabbed his arm and pulled, "Come on."

"Home? There's another bar down the way we could maybe stop at, they've got a great pazaak-" he paused in the middle of getting out of his chair, seeing something in her expression. Atton shook his head wildly, "Uh uh. Nope."

Tamara laughed and tugged at his arm again, forgetting her own strength for a moment and sending him careening into her. They both stumbled, Atton grabbing a hold of her to steady the both of them.

"The dancing part was a joke," he said flatly, dragging his hand across the air in front of her in a strong emphasis, "I am not going up there."

"Hey, I promised you we'd be out for drinks and dancing and frankly I don't think I'd be able to live with myself if I started this new page for us with a lie like that." Tamara turned, twisting her fingers through his own and led him back into the tiny dance floor. There were enough people there that two more would hardly be noticed. The Twi'lek's soft voice rang through the air in a fast paced beat; the atmosphere already had a more excited feel than when the Rodian had been singing.

Despite his brief struggle, she got him on the tiny laminate floor. Her boots stuck to the ground and she tried to keep her mind off where she was and focus on who she was with. Tam grabbed both of Atton's hands and raised them above her head, twisting her body and forcing him to move with her, smiling unabashedly. She didn't think she could smile any more but his slow, hesitant grin kept her going until they were both laughing and moving to the offbeat techno drums.

The song finished. Atton's smile slipped, though his following words held a touch of laughter he could barely keep out of his voice, "Alright, let's head out now."

"We're not going until I get a slow dance with you," she smirked at his expression and another beat sounded over the speakers.

It was almost loud enough to drown out her thoughts. At the very least, it kept only the most important ones in the forefront of her mind. Like how damn handsome he looked in that stupid jacket of his trying to hide a grin behind a barely dignified glare while he tried to pretend he wasn't enjoying himself.

She wasn't sure how many songs had passed before the Twi'lek pulled the mic off the stand and flicked her wrist at the Bith drumming softly in the corner. The drumming stopped and the Twi'lek began to hum something.

A figure joined her, so covered in silks that she couldn't tell which alien had joined the stage. Another came up and joined them, lightly strumming a holographic xantha.

The Twi'lek starting singing a few notes softly and the other alien joined her in a sweet harmony. She grinned at Atton even as he started shaking his head and wrapped her arms around his neck, craning her head to stare up at the taller man.

He seemed to be greatly amused by that, his hands slipping down to her waist and pulling her closer. He leaned his head and rested his forehead against hers, matching her smile teeth for teeth.

She could barely see most of his face, hidden by the dim light and lit up only a few times each minute as lights flashed across their path from the ceiling. But his gray eyes sparkled each time under the light as it changed colours. Pink, yellow, blue, red, green, back to pink. She watched a lazy smile tug at the corner of his lips whenever a flash of light passed his face, closing her eyes and suppressing a laugh as if she could burn that moment in her memory forever.

Someone bumped into her at one point and then both of them started, turning their heads quickly to view the crowd around them. The crowd was moving to a completely different tune; almost an entire band was formed on the stage now, and they were well into the song. Tamara didn't know how long she had zoned out for. She sent Atton a sheepish grin.

"I think we should go now," he repeated again in a low voice. A flash of yellow light lit the area between them and there was something in his eyes that stopped whatever dry response she had in mind before it left her lips.

She twined her fingers in his and almost yanked him across the dance floor, shoving people aside to get out of the cantina. Atton's toes nipped at her heels as he followed her in a rush. They both went through the door at a run back to the relative privacy of the ‘Hawk, laughing loudly as they raced down the streets.

#otp #atton x exile

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ericvick · 4 years ago

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Mehra: Yes. Consumers did not know what would happen next. So buying a new pair of athletic shoes was a low priority for most people.

But Nike benefits from big long-term trends. People are dressing more casually. There’s more focus on being outdoors. People exercise. The whole “athleisure” apparel industry is doing well.

Nike in particular has had strong innovation. That’s what consumers want. They want cool workout clothes that are unique.

And Nike’s digital experience is something they’ve invested in. Now they have a leadership position. Consumers love shopping with Nike. They’ve made it easy to shop, compare prices, find the right sizes.

Has Chipotle Resolved Problems?

IBD: Has Chipotle Mexican Grill (CMG) resolved problems that led to multimillion-dollar fines due to diners getting sick from foodborne ailments?

Mehra: They had issues that they’ve mostly resolved. But there is an inherent risk in this industry.

Now Chipotle is a good business with high returns and a really good value proposition. Consumers like their foods, which are affordable and fresh. Chipotle has combined that with a great digital experience. They’ve done innovative things on the digital side.

I order from them frequently. You can have a fairly seamless experience, ordering on your app, picking it up. You don’t have to have contact with anyone. The importance of that has been highlighted in the last several months.

Less-Proven Stocks Help Position Trend To Be One Of The Best Mutual Funds For 2021

IBD: Give me an example please of a stock in that small second basket of equities you own.

Mehra: Sure. Their path is something more uncertain than the traditional core basket of durable growers. But they’re companies with huge potential. The question you have to ask is, “Is there a value proposition that consumers really want? Are there competitors?”

One is Monolithic Power Systems (MPWR). It’s a small, niche semiconductor company. They have a pretty small share of the analog semiconductor market, about 2%.

An interesting thing about analog chips is that they have long product cycles, close to 10 years. So innovation on analog chips is limited.

But Monolithic has brought innovation to that market. They’ve done that by combining digital and analog capabilities. So their chips are small but very powerful.

Chips like this are used for a lot of things that we’ve seen growth in, such as cloud-based data centers, AI, robotics, battery management.

And their founder leads the company. I always like founder-led companies. It has a very strong culture behind it, a desire to succeed.

IBD: What are your main strengths as an investor?

Mehra: First, my ability to parse through a lot of information and figure out what’s important. You have to avoid getting lost in the details, news flow and random information.

Second, I have a long-term mindset and believe that duration is one of the key advantages I have as an investor.

Third, good judgement is another strength. My job centers around weighing pros and cons and assessing risk-reward in a balanced and unbiased way.

Finally, I love what I do.

Follow Paul Katzeff on Twitter at @IBD_PKatzeff for tips about retirement planning and active mutual fund managers who consistently outperform the market.

YOU MAY ALSO LIKE:

See IBD Stock Lists & Get Pass/Fail Ratings For All Your Stocks With IBD Digital

You Need This Much Retirement Savings At Your Age And Income

Check Out IBD’s New IBD Live Panel Discussion

How Long Will Your $1 Million Last In Retirement?

Which Stocks Are Breaking Out Or Near A Pivot Point? Check MarketSmith

#Fidelity #Fund #Funds #Mutual #start #Trend #Winners

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perfectirishgifts · 4 years ago

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An Informative Intel Industry Analyst Conference 2020

New Post has been published on https://perfectirishgifts.com/an-informative-intel-industry-analyst-conference-2020/

An Informative Intel Industry Analyst Conference 2020

I spent close to three days attending the 2020 Intel industry analyst day last week. All the new information was NDA, I am not going to rehash what has already been said over the past year, but I did want to share some of my high-level opinions exiting the week. Comparatively, there was less new information shared than in previous years and less one on ones to get down to the nitty gritty details. I do not see this necessarily as the company withholding information, but rather, the inconveniences brought on by Covid-19 and the lack of face to face communications. Net-net, my view of Intel has improved in some areas and remains the same in others. If you have not read my previous opinions on Intel’s strategies and products, please check out the resources at the very bottom of the article.

My goals of the week were to re-assess Intel’s strategy, get an update on its fab position, its products, and position in AI training.

Strategy

I still think that Intel’s strategy is the right one. It is focused on six pillars of innovation and remaining an IDM. Intel has expanded the definition of compute, which Intel calls the “XPU” across multiple types of compute, the CPU, GPU, FPGA, and ASIC. I have believed in this approach for 20 years and I still believe it is the right path. And I also think right now, IDM (Integrated Device Manufacturer) is still the right move for Intel, with the ability to tweak and tune the designs. If a company is executing well on an IDM strategy, it can also be the lowest cost, and it has the most flexibility. The challenge is on Intel’s 10nm execution but try not to confuse that with the merits of strategically being an IDM.

Intel strategy- simplified view

And I think disaggregating chip design makes sense for Intel, even though this is not what the mobile players are doing right now. Qualcomm and Apple, for the time being, are sticking with monolithic designs. AMD has already disaggregated, and Xilinx and NVIDIA are on its way. You see, the larger the die area and the more heterogeneity the SOC, the bigger the need for a 2D, 2.5D, or 3D design. AMD got there first with 2D, and it is paying off well so far. Intel is first on 3D which is early but looks very promising to achieve more density in new designs. I know we’ve seen Intel 3D in lower power designs, but I’m more excited seeing this in datacenter products for mix and match IP.

Intel CSO Saf Yeboah-Amankwah outside perspective

Intel Fabs

When you ask most people in the tech industry about the state of Intel fabs, I think they would say they were “broken”. I understand this sentiment, but I believe it is too simplistic and not accurate. Intel has had big issues with 10nm execution, delayed over two years, and issues with 7nm execution, which have been delayed another six months. This is an issue, but fundamentally what people are missing are what the company is doing with 14nm and the real progress on 10nm. Intel is servicing 90% of the server and PC industry mostly with a super-optimized 14nm process and silicon designs. Intel even had to “back-port” features and parts from 10nm to 14nm. In the notebook market on 10nm process, Intel is competitive and would say most competitive with battery life. Intel has never shared yield in the 30 years I’ve known them, and the company did not share 14nm or 10nm yields with the group.

I did have the chance to talk 1:1 with Dr. Ann B. Kelleher, SVP and GM of Technology Development at Intel. She is responsible for the research, development and deployment of next-generation silicon logic, packaging and test technologies, and before that led manufacturing where she managed a significant expansion of 14nm supply and ramping the 10nm process. Here is the high-level of what she shared with me that I can share here. Note, I cannot share everything that was discussed.

Overall: Fabs are at full capacity, including Ireland, Israel, Arizona and Oregon. The rumored cost issues based on fab underloading is just not happening. Every open space is being converted to factory space including a café in Israel. 14nm is at peak performance and capacity, better than any process she had seen in her 24 years at Intel. Yields continue to improve on 14nm and 10nm.

10nm: Crossover between 14nm and 10nm volume will be sometime in 2021, meaning Intel is adding more 10nm capacity as we speak. Comparing 10nm Ice Lake onwards (not 10nm Cannon Lake), 10nm is within a quarter or so of where 14nm was in its lifetime. Israel, Arizona, and Oregon are all doing 10nm in high volume. SuperFIN has been instrumental in increasing 10nm performance.

7nm: We can expect an official 7nm update in January, but clearly there is an intense focus on meeting product schedule commitments.

More fabs: Building even more fab space in Oregon and Ireland and starting additional site prep to have room for 7nm and 5nm.

Net-net for me is the Intel fabs are full, 14nm is performing great, 10nm is better than rumors, we have to wait until January on 7nm, but the focus is there, and Intel is building enough capacity as quickly as it can, short-term and mid-term.

External Fabs

Now let’s talk about external fabs.

First off, Intel has used external fabs a lot historically if it got into a jam or if it made an acquisition and that design was externally fabbed. We saw this in chipsets, FPGAs and LTE modems. So, when the world went nuts after CEO Bob Swan suggested it was going to look at external foundries, I was puzzled, as it already did that. While I think it could have been more strategically communicated, I suppose Swan had to tell the street coincident when he knew it. What I do understand is the surprise at the notion that Intel would take some of leading edge designs to a foundry. That is new.

I spent nearly 10 years at an OEM (chip customer) and 11 years at a chipmaker and for the most part, customers don’t care where a part is fabbed as long as it is on time, feature complete and at a good cost. Customers want predictable cadence. Therefore, I think the notion that Intel fabs must compete with TSMC and Samsung for future designs is a great idea and doesn’t negate the strategic benefit of Intel’s IDM strategy. I would love to see Ice Lake on TSMC’s 5nm process, wouldn’t you?

Products

Let’s talk products. I left the conference more confident with the client computing roadmap through 2022 that was shared for reasons I cannot divulge under NDA. Gregory Bryant aka “GB” answered all my questions and I think he had a great grasp of the market situation and answers for most. Let me just say that GB and the client group isn’t backing down. At all.

Innovate Through Platforms

I had a good 1:1 chat with Lisa Spelman, who leads the Xeon product line . I am quite intrigued by the upcoming Xeon roadmap, particularly in 2023. I think strategically, given where Intel is, what it wants to accomplish, and the competitive set, it’s the right direction. Spelman also briefed us all on an exciting new category of datacenter products but unfortunately, I cannot dive into it. There is a market need for these new products and I am excited about them. I expect we’ll hear more about this in the new year.

3rd Gen Intel Xeon Scalable Processor

AI training

One of the biggest things investors and CSPs are clamoring from Intel was a competitive accelerated ML and DL training solution. Nervana didn’t pan out as planned, GPUs weren’t coming to the rescue, so Intel intelligently acquired Habana Labs. The great news was that Amazon AWS announced at its 2020 re:Invent that same week that it was creating instances based on Habana Gaudi. I wrote about this here. Promised in 2021, AWS set a goal of delivering up to 40% better single-node price-performance compared to its current GPU-based EC2 instances supporting ML. This is a really big deal as NVIDIA hasn’t any competition in training from a tier 1 silicon vendor. I know the EC2 folks at AWS pretty well and don’t think for a second that AWS would productize anything that it didn’t deem competitive, no matter the price. While one CSP make not a market, if you’re going to start with anyone, you want it to be AWS to pull through all the other CSPs, tier 2s and enterprises.

AWS CEO Andy Jassy announces Intel Habana Gaudi Instances

Summary

Overall, I felt much better exiting Intel’s industry analyst day than I did entering it and I appreciate everybody at Intel taking the time to do it. I liked almost everything I saw on the slides and in the conversations, but in the end, it really does come down to Intel’s execution.

I think Intel is going to coming storming back. This does not mean I think the company will achieve the same market share in its traditional 95% PC and server markets- I don’t. I think the cat is already of the bag on that.

I do think Intel can grow as it has widened the aperture considerably when I look at its increased TAM and SAM. The “old” Intel did CPUs and chipsets with monolithic designs for datacenter servers and PCs. The “new” Intel does a family of XPUs (CPU/GPU/NPU/FPGA) with disaggregated designs for datacenter server, storage and networking, the edge, carrier and autonomous cars. The new Intel will use the fab or foundry that is best suited for its disaggregated designs that best meets its customers needs by decoupling design from the state of the fab or its technologies. If that’s the Intel fab-great. If not, TSMC or Samsung. Customers don’t care.

If I were a customer, I would prefer the new Intel over the old. Now it’s up to Intel to prove everybody wrong and execute.

To get up to speed on my opinions of Intel’s products and strategies, please find these resources below:

Intel Announces Gold Release Of OneAPI Toolkits And New Intel Server GPU

Intel’s 11th Gen Core Processors And ‘Evo’ Platform Brand Raises The Notebook Processor Competitive Stakes

Intel Architecture Day 2020 Gives A Glimpse Into A Brighter Future

Intel Core With Intel Hybrid Technology Marks A New Way Forward

Intel’s Amps Up Its 2030 CSR Goals Amongst The COVID19 Crisis Backdrop

Intel Beefs Up Capabilities In Managed Notebooks With Latest VPro

Intel’s Gaming CPU Brings Competition We Like

Intel Quietly Becoming A Player On The ‘Edge’

Intel Aggressively Updates Xeon And Announces Key 5G Product Lines

Intel Lays Out Strategy For AI: It’s Habana

Intel Shows Off PC Platform, Compute And Graphics Futures At CES 2020

Intel Demonstrates At Data-Centric Day That It’s The Datacenter Technology Company To Beat

Intel Registers Solid Q2 Earnings And Its Future Opportunities Look Even Brighter

Note: Moor Insights & Strategy writers and editors may have contributed to this article.

Moor Insights & Strategy, like all research and analyst firms, provides or has provided paid research, analysis, advising, or consulting to many high-tech companies in the industry, including 8×8, Advanced Micro Devices, Amazon, Applied Micro, ARM, Aruba Networks, AT&T, AWS, A-10 Strategies, Bitfusion, Blaize, Box, Broadcom, Calix, Cisco Systems, Clear Software, Cloudera, Clumio, Cognitive Systems, CompuCom, Dell, Dell EMC, Dell Technologies, Diablo Technologies, Digital Optics, Dreamchain, Echelon, Ericsson, Extreme Networks, Flex, Foxconn, Frame (now VMware), Fujitsu, Gen Z Consortium, Glue Networks, GlobalFoundries, Google (Nest-Revolve), Google Cloud, HP Inc., Hewlett Packard Enterprise, Honeywell, Huawei Technologies, IBM, Ion VR, Inseego, Infosys, Intel, Interdigital, Jabil Circuit, Konica Minolta, Lattice Semiconductor, Lenovo, Linux Foundation, MapBox, Marvell, Mavenir, Marseille Inc, Mayfair Equity, Meraki (Cisco), Mesophere, Microsoft, Mojo Networks, National Instruments, NetApp, Nightwatch, NOKIA (Alcatel-Lucent), Nortek, Novumind, NVIDIA, Nuvia, ON Semiconductor, ONUG, OpenStack Foundation, Oracle, Poly, Panasas, Peraso, Pexip, Pixelworks, Plume Design, Poly, Portworx, Pure Storage, Qualcomm, Rackspace, Rambus, Rayvolt E-Bikes, Red Hat, Residio, Samsung Electronics, SAP, SAS, Scale Computing, Schneider Electric, Silver Peak, SONY, Springpath, Spirent, Splunk, Sprint, Stratus Technologies, Symantec, Synaptics, Syniverse, Synopsys, Tanium, TE Connectivity, TensTorrent, Tobii Technology, T-Mobile, Twitter, Unity Technologies, UiPath, Verizon Communications, Vidyo, VMware, Wave Computing, Wellsmith, Xilinx, Zebra, Zededa, and Zoho which may be cited in blogs and research.

From Enterprise Tech in Perfectirishgifts

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trhu · 5 years ago

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For the Love of an Unworthy White Man

In October 2018, I finally saw Miss Saigon, after deliberately boycotting it for almost thirty years. When it first opened in 1989, between the tired rehashing of Puccini’s Madama Butterfly and the yellowface casting controversy over Jonathan Pryce as the Engineer, there was nothing about this show that appealed to me, especially when I had already seen M. Butterfly, David Henry Hwang’s groundbreaking, Tony-winning play that turned the submissive Asian woman trope on its head. M. Butterfly literally changed my life at a time when I was just learning to navigate being an Asian woman in white America, and everything I read about Miss Saigon seemed to be in direct opposition to the lessons I learned from M. Butterfly: resist stereotypes, claim your heritage proudly, never let a man control the direction of your life. So, despite my love of Broadway musical extravaganzas, and my hunger to see Asian performers onstage, I never went to see this blockbuster hit. Whenever a production of Miss Saigon rolled into the Bay Area, people who knew how I loved theatre would ask if I was going to see it, and I’d have to explain once again why I found the basic premise of the story offensive and refused to support it. I got the distinct impression that a lot of people were internally rolling their eyes at my futile protest, but I didn’t care. It was a matter of principle. Until now. So...what changed my mind? Well, first and foremost, Soft Power. That was the Asian American musical extravaganza I’d been waiting for. David Henry Hwang’s absurdist semi-experimental comedy--about Hillary Clinton’s influence on a Chinese entertainment mogul that cast Asian American actors in whiteface and stands American cultural hegemony on its head--had me laughing and crying like nothing else I’ve ever experienced in my life. It was incredibly uplifting--especially in Trump’s America--to see so many Asian faces on the stage, dancing and singing, poking fun at clueless, self-important, white Americans, subverting stereotypes and challenging expectations. That was in July. Then, I saw Two Mile Hollow by Leah Nanako Winkler at the Ferocious Lotus. And Straight White Men by Young Jean Lee, the first play by an Asian American woman ever produced on Broadway. And then To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before on Netflix. And finally, Crazy Rich Asians on the big screen in August. In one glorious and unprecedented summer, I saw more Asian American representation on stage and screen than I had in my whole previous American life. Because I had always watched Chinese films and television shows, I had thought I was OK on the representation front, but really, it’s a totally different experience. Seeing Asian American representation, finally, fed my soul in a way that I hadn’t realized I needed, like I was starving and didn’t even know it until I feasted on all these wonderful stories about people like me. So when I was offered free tickets to Miss Saigon, I was surprised to not feel the visceral anger that had always bubbled up when this show came to town. I decided to go see it, in order to understand it better, and in the hopes that this new revival would have addressed some of the more problematic parts of the story. Also, the tickets had already been paid for, so why not? I wasn’t supporting the production, they already had the money. To be fair, I didn’t hate it, I just didn’t like it. I did try to look for positives: the set was well designed and efficient; the big helicopter scene was pretty epic, as promised; the whole flashback to the fall of Saigon was powerfully choreographed, and once again, I loved seeing so many Asian faces on stage. The kid who played Tam was adorably cute, too. He melted my grumpy heart a lot, for sure. But that story! It was agonizing to watch it unfold, yet again, knowing that the Asian woman we’d been coerced into sympathizing with was going to negate herself, disappear conveniently, so everyone else would get to have everything they wanted. It’s the lesson this world has been forcing down my throat for my entire life, and I’m tired of puking it back up in their faces. And that doesn’t even begin to address all the other tired old tropes: desperate Asian prostitutes clinging to American johns as their only chance at a better life; smarmy, abusive pimps-of-color who are still, somehow, the most practical and clear-eyed counselor for our heroine; conflicted, guilt-ridden white saviors confronted with the limits of their power and privilege. I’d seen it all before, so many times, and it was exhausting to sit through yet another iteration of this sad, incomplete, stereotypical story. Even worse, sitting there in the audience next to my white American husband, I felt embarrassed. I imagined the other playgoers--mostly older, mostly white--seeing us and thinking, “Oh how nice for them. What a lucky girl that one is, unlike poor Kim, to have won her white knight in the end.” If you think I’m being melodramatic, I assure you, I’m not. I’ve encountered that condescending attitude from way too many people--including members of my own family--for three decades now. Because my husband is a conventionally handsome white man from a wealthy family, a ridiculous lot of people assume that he ‘rescued’ me, or ‘lifted me up,’ or was somehow my ticket to a ‘better’ life by conferring upon me proximal access to his privilege and power. They see his love and commitment as an asset that I’m fortunate to have added to my portfolio, as if our relationship was an investment and I’m getting a higher return than he is. The implication, of course, is that he doesn’t gain as much from being with me as I do from being with him, because I don’t bring anything as systemically powerful as white male privilege and hereditary wealth to the table. Instead, his love for me is viewed as beneficent, charitable, a gift I should be eternally grateful for, and so many people are puzzled that I am not. In short, they think he is better than me, because he is white, he is a man, and he has money. What they don’t see, or acknowledge, or recognize as valuable, is the emotional strength and intellectual clarity that I possess, and the very traits that my husband fell in love with, back when he was a troubled young man. What they cannot grasp--because these stories are rarely told, which is why I’m telling it, now--is that in reality, I rescued him from an empty, directionless life of dead-end work and weekend debauchery, and earning my love is what gives his life meaning. When we met (in 1989, the same year Miss Saigon premiered in the West End, the same year I saw M. Butterfly for the first time), my husband was a twenty-three year old college dropout, working construction, drinking to excess, without a plan for the future or hope for a meaningful life. Sure, he came from a comfortably affluent family, but you’d never have known it from the way that he lived. He had rejected most of the trappings of privilege that he was born into, as well as its conventional, materialistic values, but had not yet formulated a coherent set of values for himself or discovered a purpose in life. He also espoused some really off-putting political views, half-jokingly idolized horrible, evil men like Richard Nixon and Charles Manson, and was prone to loud, obnoxious rants about things he clearly didn’t understand. I found nothing remotely attractive about him in our first few encounters. For his part, he didn’t even notice me for the first eight months we were in each others’ social orbit. It wasn’t until we were thrown together in a booth at La Rondalla that he even remembered me for the first time. But for whatever reason--and in thirty years, l still haven’t gotten a clear answer about his reasons, introspection is not his strong suit--that night he decided that I was what he needed in his life, and he set about wooing me despite my initial rejection of his advances. I did not take his courtship seriously at first. The trajectories of our lives were not in sync, and I had no intention of deviating from my goals. So far as I could tell, he had no goals, and I was reluctant to engage with someone who seemed so lost and unclear on his purpose in life. He was, quite simply, not worthy of my time or attention. Luckily for him, he made his move at a time when I was bored, waiting for my life to start--I was taking a gap year, working as a bike messenger in San Francisco, and had just been accepted to my dream college, with four months to kill before heading off to Berkeley--so I agreed to go out with him, figuring it would be a summer fling that would end when I went to Cal. Much to my surprise and consternation, by the time school started, we were in love. This was not what I’d expected, and I tried, repeatedly, to break up with him during my freshman year, to no avail. Every time I worked up the courage to break his heart, I felt terrible and took him back a few days later. I hadn’t counted on that. I’d never been in love before. One thing I’ve learned over the years...assuming there’s nothing fundamentally repulsive about them, it’s really hard to not love someone back who loves you wholeheartedly, without reservation. Chemistry is a mysterious thing, not always logical or rational, and what happens between two people can be hard to understand from outside the relationship. Even though I loved him, it was not easy to live with him. The trollish, aggro behavior that initially turned me off took a long time to for him to unlearn. He was often blind to his own privilege, and harbored deep insecurities that he refused to address. It took years to convince him to seek help, to confront his demons, to become a better man, and it was exhausting to be the constant voice of reason in the household, holding everything together because he hadn’t figured his shit out, yet. Over many years, he did slowly work through most of his issues, ultimately winning me over with his unwavering commitment and devotion, and most importantly, his willingness to change and grow in order to keep me in his life. After over three decades together, through many turbulent times, we’ve finally arrived at a relatively calm harbor in our relationship. It took a long time--a lot longer than I could have ever imagined when I first agreed to go out with him--but he has become worthy of my love. But this isn’t what most people see when they see us. What they see is a tall, handsome, successful, wealthy white man and the lucky immigrant Chinese girl who had the good fortune to snag him, lifting herself and their children into affluence in one generation. What they refuse to consider is the simple fact that falling in love with me, and working hard to become a man worthy of my love is the best thing my husband has done with his life. What they expect to see is 150 years of western imperialism in China played out in human form. What they don’t see is who we really are. Anyone who actually knows us, who understands the dynamics of our relationship, knows better. While my husband’s status and wealth is infinitely helpful in maintaining our materially comfortable lifestyle, and there is no question that he is a loving husband and father who works hard to provide for us, the entire construct of our lives is built upon my deep reserves of emotional strength, confidence, and resilience. I hold everything together, sometimes through sheer strength of will, fighting his self-destructive neuroses every step of the way. I suspect this is true in a lot of long-lasting relationships, but women are conditioned not to let people know this, lest it makes their man look weak. It’s time for strong women to break the silence, to stop hiding their strength in order to make men look stronger. Not too long ago, someone whom I’ve never met, who doesn’t know us and only knew that his wife was Asian, asked him, “Does your wife even speak English?” When he reported this exchange to me, laughing at the absurdity of other people’s assumptions about us, he was very surprised that I was furious that he thought it was funny. To him, and many other people, the fact that I am highly English proficient should take the sting out of these insulting assumptions about my language abilities. What they don’t understand is that the real assumption, the true insult, is that I am fundamentally less than he is, and there’s nothing fucking funny about that.

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ramblinganthropologist · 7 years ago

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DA Halloween 2017 - From the Ashes

Prompt: From the Ashes ( from @dahalloween‘s 2017 challenge)

Summary: When Falon’Din’s eye glows bright over Ferelden, Cahel Mahariel finds someone he thought he lost for good. For just a short time, friends are reunited on a cold night as the seasons change. As it turns out, death doesn’t change much at all, and two young men can enjoy the fire together once again. Word count: 1895

---

Sometimes, you found things when you least expected it.

Camp was quiet at last, with only the hooting of owls and intermittent snoring from various tents making any noise at all. Above the cold ground, a blanket of stars sparkled between the two moons, both full for the first time in months. That probably would have meant something to an astrologer, but for him it just meant more light.

Cahel flexed his freezing fingers as he moved a little closer to the blazing camp fire. That night, he had drawn the short straw and wound up on second watch. He was still yawning, and the little sleep he got later would do nothing to curb it the next day. Hopefully, no darkspawn would try to eat him when the sun came up. They might just have advantage.

“It's getting colder, Tamlen. Snow's going to be falling soon.” The massive mabari at his feet made no sound – he, unlike his master, was fast asleep. That fact didn't go unnoticed as the elf pulled a face. “You know, you're a damn traitor, sleeping while I'm stuck up hoping nothing tries to kill us in our sleep.”

He couldn't help but let out a good natured chuckle though. A dog was a dog after all; when they needed to sleep, they did it regardless of who was on guard duty. At least he was providing some much needed warmth to his freezing toes as he leaned back, staring up at the starry sky.

Fall always was the best time for looking at the stars, even in Blight-ravaged Ferelden.

“Let's see, there's the Big Halla and the Yearling... and there's both of Dirthamen's ravens.” He squinted, eyes glowing in the light as he inspected the stars. “Wait, what's that one?”

A bright blue star, close to the smaller of Thedas' two moons had drawn his attention. In the ink-black night sky, it gleamed like a jewel amongst the duller white dots of light. Yet, as he stared up at it, a shiver ran down his spine. There was something downright unnatural about it, especially considering that it hadn't been there an hour earlier.

He might not have been a master of the night sky, but he knew for a fact stars didn't just up and disappear.

Maybe that was why Cahel shifted a little closer to the fire and kept his free hand on the sword strapped to his side. Somewhere in the back of his mind, there was an old song that the elders sang during nights like this. Since it had always been past his bedtime, he only remembered fragments.

Something about seeing what you'd lost in the mist of the night? Or maybe it was about being careful where you pissed at night; he didn't really remember.

“I'm just freaking myself out, Tam.” At least, he hoped so his voice dropped to a whisper. It had to be the cold making bumps raise along his arms; what else could have done it? They weren't in a darkspawn heavy area, and the only mages around were snoring away – and Morrigan might deny it, but she definitely snored – in their tents.

Had to be the weather. Had to be.

His commitment to that theory wavered the second the fog began to roll in, though. The hair rose on the back of his neck as his heart began to pound faster until he was sure only his binder was keeping it in. Something was beyond the line of the trees, but he couldn't look.

Down at his feet, Tamlen's large head rose as he began to growl. His hair was standing on end too, but he was far more prepared to go after whatever was waiting for them. Lucky he was, because his master was frozen in place.

“W-Who's there?”

Cahel's voice came out as shaky as his knees. Forget reaching for his sword, he couldn't even figure out how to speak right. At the moment, it was though something was holding him in place, forcing him to look into the darkness. Not even his eyes could tell what was beyond the trees, try as he might to piece it together.

Then there was the light, faint as if from a hundred yards off. It started as a small ball, but soon it grew until it was the size of an adult. A spectral hand reached out from the corpse of trees, resting on the wood in glowing white. It was see-through, much like the face and body that joined it.

“Mind moving over? It's cold over here.”

There was no denying that voice; Cahel's eyes widened as he finally made out the features of the glowing figure at the edge of camp. Standing there, still wearing the armor he had been the day they had lost him to the mirror, was Tamlen. Or, at least it was something that looked a lot like Tamlen; he was missing his feet for the most part.

Made sense; it wasn't like the dead needed their feet to go anywhere.

The very much dead elf sat at the edge of the log, sinking through halfway. By then, the mabari named for him had stopped growling. Instead, he sniffed at the log, yelping when his nose went straight through to the wood. Quickly, he returned to his master's feet, much to the amusement of the specter.

A moment passed before Cahel could find his voice again. “What...”

“Am I doing here?” Tamlen finished it for him, shrugging his shoulder. “To the void if I know. Last I remember I was staring up at Cherche as she slit my throat.”

He looked over his shoulder towards the tents, and Cahel swore he saw him frown. “She's not still upset about that, is she?”

Why would she? She had only been forced to put down her former apprentice turned ghoul as he begged for death in front of her.

Still, Tamlen looked good; whole, maybe. There was no hint of the corruption that had plagued the last year of his life. If not for the fact he was fucking see through, his friend would have said he could have been in perfect health. However, death kind of negated that.

Suddenly, though, the ghost – at least, he thought that's what it might be. For all he knew, the elf was just last night's dinner messing with his stomach – looked serious as they met eyes. There was a question in his eyes, one that had gone unanswered in life. Just thinking about it made Cahel's heart race as he waited for the glowing lips to part and speak the words he had been denied for so long.

“Really, you named your dog after me?”

Dog Tamlen gave a rather sulky look in his own canine way as he curled back into a ball, back to his namesake. Elf Tamlen responded in kind, and Cahel could have sworn his transparent cheeks puffed out in mild annoyance.

Great; he had a sulking ghost AND mabari to deal with.

Still, he was feeling up to talking. “Hey, we're in Ferelden. Naming your mabari after someone is almost as big a deal as if it was your first born kid.”

“They did always take their dogs seriously.” Tamlen gave him a look that went right through him. “Like something else you're taking seriously, for that matter.”

He jerked his head over towards the tent Cahel normally slept in. Right then, Alistair was alone, probably hogging both their bedrolls as he snored into his pillow. Getting a bit of space to himself in a few hours was going to be a trial, but the warrior would probably never wake up. Once he was down, only the Archdemon could wake him up.

Those knowing eyes caused the heat to flood his face and turn it crimson. Cahel looked to the side, towards the fire. There was nothing like an ex asking about the special people in your life to make you wish for death, and apparently that didn't even help an escape. After all, Tamlen was still there.

“It's... we haven't...”

Much to his surprise, the ghostly elf began to laugh. It was a nice sound, but something about it made the bumps raise on his arms anew. Still, an almost warm look filled Tamlen's eyes as he reached over to pat Cahel on the head, hand going straight through in the process.

“Good to see you're moving on, lethallin. You know, except for naming your dog after me. That's still kind of weird.”

Well, there went his embarrassment.

Cahel was the one pouting now as he took a swing through the ghostly body of his friend. “You're an ass.”

“Death didn't change that much about me after all.”

They were both chuckling now, probably because of just how strange it all was. Even though he still wasn't convinced it was actually happening, it was nice to have just one final chat between them. After all, their last words had been marred by a lot of bleeding.

And he meant a lot of bleeding; damn if ghouls couldn't bleed.

Still, Cahel frowned as he looked over at his friend. It might have been the light, but he was getting harder to see. “Will... can I see you again?”

“I don't really know how this works, so let's just say maybe.” Tamlen's eyes were towards the sky, where the blue star was beginning to fade. “The eye is closing. Think that means it's time to go.”

There was a pause, and then, “Do me a favor, would you? Kill that damn Archdemon for me; damn thing gave me headaches for weeks.”

Finally, he stood, but below the knees he was completely gone. His upper body was beginning to fade as well as he started to walk back towards the corpse of trees. By the time he reached it, only a bit of his neck and head were visible.

It was enough to get one last smile before he disappeared completely, along with the fog that had blanketed the campsite. Cahel was left alone, amidst the glowing embers of the fire and the wind that blew through the trees.

The star was gone up above now. However, the rest of the song was coming back to him in bits and pieces as he crowded close to the fire. When Falon'Din's eye glowed in the sky, that what was lost returned in the mist among the fall leaves. And just like those fall leaves, it would be gone in trace, perhaps never being there at all.

Well, it sounded better when somebody else sang it, but that was the gist.

“Should've known it had something to do with Falon'Din. It was too damn close to the Ravens.”

Still, even as he yawned, there was a small smile on Cahel's face. It had been a nice visit, brief as it was. And maybe, if he was lucky and survived the Blight, he would see Tamlen again next year too. Or, they might all be dead. That was kind of the toss up when it came to fighting the Archdemon. Either way, he would probably see him again.

Just, hopefully he was alive the next time. That would be nice.

#dahalloween #ramblinganthropologist's writing #Cahel Mahariel #Dragon Age Origins #Warden Mahariel

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iphoenixrising · 8 years ago

Text

Justice is Blind AU: V

I’m alive, I swear. This is the next thing in the Blind!Tim au @satire-please started.

The Black Bird is a rough and tumble design. Close to a year and a half of work into making the car his new ride (because, you know, not that Robin anymore). It's the biggest pre-Iraq project, started shortly after he left Gotham and realized he'd probably never be welcome in the Cave, the Manor, or in with the Bats again (it wasn't…fine at the time. Fuck it was a painful realization, one hovering in the back of his brain pan while adapted to the nefarious side of the Force—stealing and then returning Bat-shaped artifacts and such).

Naturally, it’s the first project he picked-up in the transition period—the one after the Mission: prove the Bruce was still alive and fucking find him. After he’d done the job, sent Bruce back to Gotham to recover, to get his own orientation, Tim had packed up the Red Robin costume and returned to Gotham City. While adjusting to his ever-sharpening senses (and yes, Tam even toned down the light but cloying perfume once she realized it gave him migraines within the first five minutes) and trying to determine his next steps in the whirlwind of holy shit his life had become (who was he kidding? When was his life not a shit storm of ‘what next’?), he’d put up the suit until he made his choice about where to go from there.

Of course, once he had nothing to focus on, no reason to keep moving, the eventual fallout of oh God, how can I do this? Fuck that, I am doing this. I’m going to figure out how the fuck to do this came with the determination to finish the half-assed projects he’d left the night Dick took Robin and handed it over to Damian. The projects became something important, something so crucial to proving he could still get his shit together.

The Black Bird was the first on the list.

He’d originally worked on the specs, did the heavy lifting between finding frustrating clue after clue (the Bat symbol on a cavern wall, made into an earthen pot, a wax stamp to mark documents). He’d even been mid-way through programming the massive computer system, one similar to the one in the Batmobile (the last one he’d actually ridden in that is) so he could calibrate it to lock on to his homing signal in the utility belt and auto-pilot itself to his location. The coding alone had been extensive, especially considering he’d started from literally scratch, refusing to access the Batcomputer to get the initial set-up from Bruce’s mainframe. At the time, he hadn’t wanted to trip any of Dick’s instincts, hadn’t wanted to give himself away, hadn’t wanted to talk or swing or what-the-fuck-ever (but secretly he’d been pretty damn sure all his access had been revoked from the big system anyway, he just hadn’t wanted to face that finality, the proof of ‘you don’t belong here anymore.’ Fuck, he’d already gotten that message loud and clear.)

Working on the Black Bird was the only thing keeping him sane, keeping him from running further away, from believing Dick had a fucking point and maybe he might just be having some kind of psychological break. When none of them believed in him, it's the only thing that kept him moving.

He'd only finished the body work and undercarriage before he'd been blinded and going back to it immediately had been... a reminder of what he’d lost (another thing he’d had to sacrifice). The damn car sat up on the automatic lift until he came back to Gotham a month after he’d sent B back to Dick, Damian, and Alfred, getting through that little meet-and-greet without giving out too many details but satisfied and terrified at the same time since, well, Mission accomplished. Now what?

Finding B lost in time had been the real clincher in the whole should I stick with it? mentality. Even though no one but Ra's, Shiva, and Tam knew, it was always on the tip of his tongue, in a puddle at the bottom of his brain pan when the rest of his contingencies mapped out exactly how to get through things like space/time.

Find Bruce, get him back, and then what?

Safe answer: go to college, say “fuck this lifestyle.”

But…but—

Instead of feeling like his last action as a crime fighter would be a big send-off, a final win for their side, and the last blast before he gave up the cape, the part of him, the part that pushed him to be ROBIN rose up to sneer Give up? Be a normal guy? College? A 9-5 job? What the utter fuck, dude?

So, he'd taken the time, jumped in with both hands all over again (and it’s just like when he was on a train to Haley’s Circus at twelve years old, hoping to convince Dick Grayson to take up the Robin mantle again and save Batman. Welp, we all know how that little situation panned out, don’t we?). Getting his projects done, getting the tools he’d need to function, getting a network established, setting up shop again so Red Robin could throw out his own safety net in the instance of shit, shit, Plan X failed (thus, the Black Bird). Honestly, he’d made the decision before he’d even realized it himself.

And nope, he hasn't regretted it yet.

Well, once he realizes someone breached the upstairs of the Perch, there might be just a small smidge after all since very, very few people knew how to find him and, even better, how to get in.

Straightening from his place at the hidden workbench in the sub-basement level, several vertebrae in his spine crack sharply, telling him how long he’d been bent over the stack of whirlybirds, taking his time to solder new microchips under the insignia and Plexiglas casing. These were marked with a niche on the bottom, a groove deep enough for his gloves to catch when he’s in the suit; he’d also made them much smaller than the usual palm-sized— rather, almost the size of a silver dollar and with a low-frequency output most people wouldn’t even detect, but could give him placement in places with high ceilings or echoes (you know, when the baddies hold up in shitty warehouses and such). He stands up to stretch while his phone gives off a specific beep, one to indicate the Perch’s motion detectors had been set off. Snagging the device, he leaves his progress where it is, minutely adjusting the tools so he could come back to it. Barefoot, he pads out through the hidden door of the inner workshop and onto the plush, vinyl mats of the functional gym, takes 36 steps to the side area with workbenches along one wall to keep his suit stocked with the usual toys. Finally another 18 to the hidden staircase and up the back passage to the penthouse apartment.

It took him long enough for the smell of fresh coffee to waft halfway down the stairs and set off his inner caffeine sense. While the fingertips of one hand run along the wall absently, automatically, his stomach rumbles in reminder of how long it’s been since he’s tried to do, you know, real people things like sleep and eat.

(It’s fine, his guest probably already knows)

And it’s finely honed instincts that allow him to backbend slightly before he’s even a step through the hidden staircase to avoid the hot mug of coffee being shoved directly in his face.

“I’m going to need you,” Tamara Fox starts out in that patiently irritated tone, “to get Bruce Wayne the hell out of my office. And I need you to do it yesterday.”

Well. Shit.

“Hi Tam. Nice to see you too,” he takes the mug gratefully as he straightens up, steps out to allow the wall to slide closed and hide the stairs again. He checks the level of liquid pointlessly while the rim is already at his mouth and just perfect. Of course it is because Tam is the quintessential perfectionist (and nope, she can argue all she wants about reckless decisions and such—again, sorry you almost died. Really, it’s my life, so I can totally sympathize). But he smiles around the first mouthful and moves to the kitchen table so she can pace and rant at her leisure and he can enjoy a few minutes of sitting upright.

“Bruce has been at WE I take it?” He starts the train rolling even as he pulls out a chair to make himself comfortable.

“Has Bruce been—are you kidding me?”

Choo-choo, allll aboard

“He’s been there all week, Tim. Not in his office, not with my dad, not with the board. He’s been literally in my office. I’ve given him stacks of paperwork for the last three days and he still isn’t leaving. Monday? He had a champagne fountain in the middle of the office and invited everyone from Accounting to come up for a drink.”

Oh. Oh no.

He makes a positive noise for go on while the coffee sits warm in his stomach and he cracks the knuckles of one hand absently.

“Tuesday? He brought two models up for a photo shoot, including equipment, backdrop, and whatever the hell they needed for a magazine cover!”

And Tam takes six long strides to cover the kitchen before she turns and takes six back, always more at ease to talk while she’s doing something. That’s her, someone who is in perpetual motion. Slight sighs are her hands and arms moving to gesture without a hitch in her step.

“And it was for Forbes, Tim. He had half-naked models posing with him for the cover of Forbes.”

He enjoys breathing enough that he doesn’t snicker, he might choke a little on his coffee, but really, not laughing here at all.

“Bruce was always a little…quirky. All rich guys are.”

She pauses long enough to face him, gritting her teeth, “most rich guys don’t do their own brand of crazy in the middle of my office, Tim.”

Just a slight wince, but, well, Tam. “Well, he’s also Batman, so that should factor in to his brand of crazy.”

A slight noise is a wave of her hand, “I’m not worried about the scary man that breaks faces for a living. I’m worried about the former-CEO who is going to be back in my office Monday morning with God know what else unless he gets some information on how you’re doing.”

Damn. He’d hoped B would leave Tam out of anything unrelated to WE—

Wait. What now?

“Wait. You’re telling me he didn’t come to you to get his company back?”

His mug makes a sharp noise on the table from force because he had certain expectations on how that little situation was going to pan out for everyone.

The chair across from him pulls out with a soft scratch, and his spine straightens when she slides into the chair. Papers flutter and clack when they’re straightened, slide across the table in front of him.

Tam not talking means not good.

His fingertips are already moving over the soft line of dots across the top of the pages, moving from the usual WE headers and down to the bulk of content:

I, Bruce Thomas Wayne, assign all duties and responsibilities of Chief Executive Officer of Wayne Industries and Wayne International to Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne—

His jaw drops, hand stutters across the braille line.

Tam hums just slightly and the sound of her drinking her own mug (and it’s probably the special one he keeps for her, the whole You don’t have to be crazy to work here, but it helps one).

His fingers skip down, move across the page slowly in shock, his brain coming up with what fucking reason Bruce would just—

“He did that playboy moron thing he’s got going on for a while, but—and I’m not sure where he got the right forms—but, he brought them to me signed and notarized on Friday. We…well, we talked a little. I mean, like people, not like you kind of people about bad guys and fighting, but like real people. The real guy is kind of…intense?” Tam sighs a little and the noise is heavy in his ears, stressed. Without thinking, he raises his head slightly and slides his free hand across the table, seeking until he gets the bump of her knuckles, wraps his hand around hers, runs his thumb over the back of her hand in a soothing gesture. It did wonders to calm her down when they were in the belly of the proverbial beast, the League of Assassins’ Cradle.

Okay. This could be not good.

“He wants you to stay as CEO and for me to be your I don’t know second-in-command or something? Dad wants R&D back because he says he’s getting too old to keep up with running the company, and Mr. Wayne doesn’t seem to want the controlling interest in his company back, so I don’t know what else to tell you to do, Tim. Only that you have to address the company in person eventually, do a formal introduction to the Board. Start coming into an office somewhere so people can see you once in a while.”

He has nothing but changing thoughts and motivations running through his brain at high speeds and keeps listening, his reading hand absently skimming through the rest of the page, turning it over to start scanning the next. He takes everything into account since Tam must have already started planning the next steps in what was supposed to be a strategic move to keep the company from falling into Ra’s al Ghuls’ grubby, immortal hands. He wasn’t really supposed to run Wayne Industries.

Just, nope. (Bruce really doesn’t expect him to do this, right?)

“He did…He asked for you to call him. Soon. Just to talk, he said.” And she sighs a little, gripping his hand back when he hadn’t realized he was squeezing a little tight.

Next page. Job description. Pfft.

“I think…” it’s a pause where her eyes are probably on his, where she’s probably biting down on her lower lip before she comes out with it. “I think he misses you, Tim.”

He stops reading long enough to pick up his coffee again and drain it to get rid of the lump in his throat.

“He has a Robin,” is the right response (or, well, it was). “Now he wants a CEO. I get it. It’ll take the pressure off of him to be a constant figure. He can still do the ‘Bruce Wayne’ things for the society sections without being tied down to the company. It’s…a smart move for a caped crime fighter.”

And then something she said resonates in his brain, makes him perk slightly.

“Wait. He said he wants to talk?”

“Well, yeah. I mean, he said he wanted to have a talk. Maybe about the company—”

“Where’s your purse?” And he’s already half-standing, reaching out a hand.

Tam (who got a first-hand view of his inner vigilante sense during go-time) goes with it, the noise of it coming off the back of another chair and delivered right into his hands.

Tim sets the heavy thing between them on the table, fingers moving to the delicate stitching all over the thing (and it’s one of those ridiculously expensive ones, a Marc Jacobs or something), and—

Yup. Fuck.

Few, if anyone, would be able to pick out the slight bulge of fabric on the underside, but he picks the seam with a fingernail because, of course, the tiny, Bat-shaped device is just right there.

“That is a Four. Hundred. Dollar bag, just so you’re aware.”

He holds out the device in the center of his palm, and deadpans, “I’ll buy you a new one. Apparently, I’m a CEO now.”

Tam blinks down at the blinking red device and back up at Tim’s grim expression and off-focus gaze when the realization sets in. “He played me? I got played by Bruce Wayne?”

“Technically, you got played by Batman. That should actually make you feel better.” And he gets only slightly pissed off that B went there. He’s more concerned knowing B is aware of their connection—his and Tam’s—since he’s never been necessarily happy when civilians find out their identities.

“This is a little much, isn’t it?” And yup, someone messing with Tam’s one obsession. Now he’s really hoping B shows up in her office on Monday so she can chew his ass right the fuck out (mental note: check the live feed from her office while that little discussion is going down. Also, make popcorn)—that is, if he can get out of Gotham before a whole bunch of crime fighting wingnuts decide to descend on his Perch.

“I…haven’t talked to him since I left the Manor last week.”

“Really? You don’t say? Well, isn’t that a perfectly reasonable justification to cut a hole in my Chanel handbag?”

Tim blinks as his inner sense kicks the tension in his shoulders and back up a notch just before his phone chirps again with the motion detector warning, this one outside the front door.

“I may or may not have mentioned,” he deadpans, waiting for it, “he’s Batman.”

The doorbell is unassuming while he’s already moving on silent feet. He doesn’t bother with glasses because he already knows who’s out there anyway.

He cracks the front door just slightly, frowning. “Sorry. We’re not buying Girl Scout Cookies today. Thanks.”

“Not even coconut ones?” Bruce’s voice is only slightly deep, so probably in his day ware, not the nightfall outfit (so…not a case?).

“Not from cheaters,” he returns while still opening the door. After the effort, Bruce isn’t just going to go away, that much is pretty damn clear.

“It’s not cheating. I worked for it fair and square since you won’t pick up a phone, Tim.”

He closes the door behind Bruce’s massive figure, closing his eyes for a second to steel himself for whatever this might be.

A plastic noise from Bruce’s right hand, “Nice to see you again, Miss Fox. I hope Prada is to your liking?”

More coffee is made and consumed until Tam (the traitor) leaves the penthouse with her new bag in tow and a litany of praises for Bruce’s sense of style. The Chanel is still a point of contention, though, he can hear it in her voice when she thanks Mr. Wayne for his thoughtfulness (like she’s saying you ass hat instead…and will always be why Tam is one of his Top 5 favorite people of all time).

They’d (B and Tam) spent a little over an hour discussing the state of the company with B giving him some surprised kudos when she mentions a few of the projects he’d initiated in his first few months of being a CEO; the reality of the situation (of which he failed to mention) is he’d given their engineers and scientists a few inventions and software designs to tinker with to cement himself in the role, so as few questions as possible would be posed as to why is that guy up in this business? At the time, he was just seventeen, barely managed to get his GED, and was an adopted son—the backlash from the media had been enough to keep him moving between trying to find Bruce, stay out of Dick’s Bat-Radar, and keep the stocks from literally plummeting.

The first MedPod had hit the market, and all those critics started to take fucking note.

(Because really LexCorp’s Medical Supply line was absolute shit, so a self-sustaining medical pod for emergency transports was really just the way to go for the Armed Forces—considering they’d beaten out several other big names for the contract was enough to prove he might just be all right for this job other than, you know, keeping it out of the hands of bad guys.)

Through the back-and-forth about the company, he’d kept his opinions to himself, waiting for something to catch him up; something like “that’s amazing. I’ll know when I’m getting back into.” Or “Once I’m back in the saddle, we’ll keep that project going.” Or, “You’ve done some amazing things, Tim, thanks. I’ll take it from here.”

He gets nada. Absolute fuck all.

Sitting on his left with Bruce across from them, Tam had nudged his knee, her way of telling him to please say something or I’m burying you in paperwork hell, but honestly? He’s pretty much at a loss.

Making non-committal noises around a fresh cup of coffee is really all he’s got at this point.

He shows Tam to the door leaning in slightly out of the doorframe to assure her in a low voice he’d already checked the Prada bag and it seems clean enough.

She sighs at him (again) and makes the usual demands, “Eat something. Sleep for God’s sake. I’ll…see you at work, boss.”

He feels his face pull with the automatic smile (because it’s Tam) and has another moment of regret when they couldn’t make it work—the two of them would have been good together. Too bad for things that had never-been (too many, he’s lost too damn many to make that leap again).

Coming back to the table is the hardest part of his day, knowing Bruce is probably watching him for all possible ticks, is probably staring at his dead eyes with that shitty self-recrimination happening in the background, that the Dark Knight can find him now (and fuck, he doesn’t want to have to move his things to a new safe house. Dammit, he likes it here).

And once they’re alone, he gets the first one in, “tagging Tam was shitty, you know.”

A shift of movement, a nod while a heavy sigh probably lifts Bruce’s shoulders and chest, and he can remember the moments when the Bat needed to be called back, reigned in so the man behind the cowl didn’t drop from exhaustion and injuries, from the sheer weight of things he’d taken on his shoulders to bare. The noises, even without the visuals, are so damn familiar, a basis for the layer of Robin instincts that are honestly a part of his chemical make-up at this point. His instincts to pull B back from the edge of the abyss when the Dark Knight was taking him farther than any human being (ever Bruce Wayne) could handle…and stay sane.

He hadn’t been fucking kidding when he told B “Batman needs a Robin” all those years ago.

“I know.”

“There some kind of unstated rule we have about not treating other Bats like—” criminals but oh yeah, forgot for a second, didn’t you?

His mouth shuts with a sharp clack of his teeth coming together before the sentence gets out (and yes, Bruce caught it).

“If you stayed anywhere near the radar, or had at least picked up the phone, I would have left Tam alone, I swear.” Bruce fills in smoothly, filing away the aborted statement.

“Emails have been fine up until now, you know.”

And just like the usual, B has something to keep him on his toes. “Just emails have never been fine, Tim.”

So…maybe the undercurrent of it would be nice to see you back in Gotham once and a while, you know, when you have time and shit might not have all been lip service after all (but he already has a Robin, right?)

Instead of voicing it, giving old hurts a space in reality, he goes with the automatic defense, “the accident didn’t make me an invalid, B. I’ve still been vigilantie-ing it up, blind or not.” The hard edge to his tone implies no one else picked up on it so I must be doing something right.

Another shift, a shrug, and just like Batman, he drops something completely fucking unexpected, “I never stopped keeping track of you, you know.”

Is…not what he expected to hear, just like with the CEO thing.

In true Bat form, B starts rattling off longitude and latitude, one set, two sets, three sets, four sets (and fuck, apparently he had been keeping track. The realization is jarring, a bucket of cold water over some of his previous notions of not a Bat anymore).

“Those are the ones I can think of off the top of my head.”

“I…”

“The point of this is the same one I gave you at the Manor.” Bruce tries to say it softly, take the hard punch out of his words. “You’re one of my Robins. You always will be. That’s what happens when you agree to take up the mask.”

He draws himself up a little because the implications (the I’ll have your back, all you need to do is call and I’ll come). And just like he was still that teenager in the tunic, Tim feels the heat in his chest, the undeniable feel of comfort, safety B has always brought forth in him. Even when they worked their own cases, were continents away, he knew, had believed, B would come running, B would still need him—

His face turns away, scarred fingers tapping lightly against his coffee cup, an automatic response (and he doesn’t even realize he’s tapping out R-O-B-I-N in Morse code) to keep motion while his brain works.

“I appreciate it,” is finally what he can give back, soft and firm. “It’s…it hasn’t been… easy. Acclimating, I mean, to this,” and a general wave at his face. “But, I’m…better now. Better than I was. It’s—” and he almost, almost falls back on his usual diversion, his absolutely bullshit when he’s got nothing left.

It feels out of place here, in the space of his sanctuary, the place he had to make useable without the Manor, the Cave, Titans Tower to fall back on— it feels out of place because Bruce…still doesn’t pull any punches.

The hand, that hand, the one that’s caught him countless times over the years, pulled him back in so fucking many ways—from over the edge of buildings, from his own recriminations, his own failures, from blood loss and sleep dep, from working himself into a coma, from—

That hand can still wrap around his wrist with room to spare, a thumb rubbing easy circles over his pulse, a reminder.

When he swallows, his throat is thick again, his eyes heating up just a little, just enough for him to chuff a laugh, a half-hoarse, rusty sound.

If there’s one thing the Batman and the real Bruce have in common? They don’t bullshit the good guys about the important things. If B came here to say it, went through the trouble of finding the Tim’s rabbit hole, he meant every damn word.

The litany of things he might have said fades down with the realization, and Tim raises his eyes, tries to make sure he’s looking at Bruce when the genuine half-smile is almost a wince.

“Do you…do you want to come downstairs and see the set-up?” (And no, his voice doesn’t break a little, his chest doesn’t lurch with the familiarity of it all.)

But he can hear it in Bruce’s tone, stark relief. “Yes actually, I do. Very much so, Tim.”

And outside, Gotham City breathes as day gives way to night; the Birds of Prey step out, taking their time to work. Nightwing and Robin fill in the gaps, moving like they’ve fought together their whole lives, and it gives the Batman time, time he so obviously needs.

Once N splits up with him, plans to meet back at the Mylar Building at two-thirty, Robin makes an impressive leap, launching himself through the sky.

Robin ends up in the Narrows, jumping around the old theatre where O used to make herself comfortable. He grapples up to the Queen & Sons headquarters, the tallest building in this part of the city, and makes himself comfortable between the feet of his favorite gargoyle. He idly listens to the back and forth between O and N, O and Batgirl, Black Canary and the thug she’s beating the shit out of, Black Bat and O, all the sounds of family.

(Speaking of which)

All-in-all, he does not have to wait very long for his next appointment of the night.

Anyone else not in the cape and cowls would have missed the soft boots striding across the roof, but Robin has been meeting here the last few months, attempting to make something in their world right again—to give something back.

And perhaps because he is no longer under the delusions of the League, perhaps because he is getting older, perhaps because he is Robin and the symbol of his chest means so much more than it meant when he first desired it, perhaps because now he better understands making the right choices for the right reasons, he has continued to attempt these interactions.

The taller vigilante ducks under the wing of the gargoyle, sitting on the ledge of the building rather than back under the statue. A careless toss of the greasy paper bag lands the offering right in Robin’s lap, and the smell is not…necessarily terrible.

A bottle of his preferred Vitamin Water is tossed at him as well, and he has it open, drinking it down while his eyes slide to the side behind the whiteouts. The soft noises, metal on metal, are indeed a testament to how far they have come in the last few weeks.

The red helmet is left on the roof between them and a small flame flickers behind a gloved hand, lighting a casual cigarette while Robin hands over the chicken burrito and takes the veggie one for himself.

“I call this meeting a’ the Dead Robins Club ta order,” the Red Hood smirks at him through the shadows, lenses up on his domino so his eyes are just as jade as the waters of the Pit, “all right Demon. Gimmie the skinny, yeah?”

#blind!tim #Batdad to the rescue #I have never written Tam before but I picture her as so severely bad ass #Tim Drake #Dick Grayson #Bruce Wayne #Damian Wayne #and introducing #Jason Todd #Tamara Fox #my writing #my fic #this thing

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the-wheel-comes-full-circle · 8 years ago

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The Snowball - Part 6

Look! I updated within a month! I'm going to try to be more regular so here's the next part :)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

When Feyre got home that night she was surprised to see Tamlin's car in the driveway. She looked quizzically at Lucien who returned her puzzled glance. Whatever was happening even Lucien didn't know.

When Lucien held the door open for her, Feyre almost smacked into a man who had just been about to leave. Feyre hastily apologised while Tamlin's hand gripped her wrist, tugging her to his side quickly.

"Ah Feyre there you are. I was just telling Mr Hybern about you." Tamlin beamed while snaking a protective arm around Feyre's waist.

The man turned black, calculating eyes on Feyre, appraising her. In turn Feyre appraised him. He was middle aged, but his eyes showed a level of cunning far beyond his years. He wore a smart suit that hinted at wealth but also practicality. His dark hair was kept long unlike most business men Feyre had known to come to the café.

"She is quite something Tamlin, I am surprised you took so long to introduce us." Hybern held out a hand to Feyre but something in Feyre knew she didn't want to touch this man.

Tamlin lightly squeezed her hip to get her to move and she quickly shook Hybern's hand at his insistence.

"Would you like to stay for dinner now that Feyre is here?" Tamlin asked him.

"While I would love to get to know the lovely Feyre a bit better, I think it is time for me to go. I have spent too much time here already." And with one last look at Feyre, taking in her harsh glare and Tamlin's protective grip on her, Hybern moved past Lucien without even a glance.

After the door closed Lucien rounded on Tamlin, "What the hell was that about? Why was he here?"

Tamlin rubbed the bridge of his nose and ushered Feyre into the dining room, ignoring Lucien completely. Once they were all seated Tamlin explained that Hybern had become so interested in the area he had moved to town to see plans through.

"What plans?" Feyre interrupted.

"Nothing that concerns you." Tamlin replied curtly.

Lucien looked on disapprovingly but his stance was already one of defeat. Feyre knew Lucien had already given up on trying to convince Tamlin to tell her more.

"Do you not like Hybern?" Tamlin asked her.

"Do you?"

"It doesn't matter if I like him or not." Tamlin said in annoyance. "He is being very generous and allowing me to be part of a huge business proposition."

"I don't like this Tam." Lucien said.

"I don't want to hear it right now Lucien. I think it would be best if you left me and Feyre to dinner now."

Hurt flashed across Lucien's face. Dismissed like a dog instead of a friend. Feyre gave Lucien an apologetic smile before he stalked from the room, the slam of the front door rattled the silverware and glasses on the table.

"He's just trying to help." Feyre defended Lucien.

Tamlin growled. "So now you're defending him?"

"Only when you are being an unreasonable ass."

"What?"

Feyre knew she had crossed a line now. She had never talked to Tamlin this way before. She looked down at the table in shame, unable to respond or even apologise.

"Who have you been hanging around, to make you talk to me like that?" Tamlin demanded.

"No one! It's just you don't tell me anything. You push Lucien away. There's so much going on here that I don't understand. I just want to help you."

"You can't help me. Not with this. Is it too much to ask that my girlfriend trust me? That she waits patiently for me to get home instead of running herself into the ground at a coffee shop. Or is it something more than that Feyre?"

His stare held something dangerous in it and suddenly Feyre felt afraid. He knew something, Feyre just didn't know what, and if she wasn't careful she would let on more than he knew.

"What are you talking about?"

"Rhysand."

Feyre's heart plummeted and she couldn't keep the fear off her face. Tamlin's face shone with rage.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He demanded.

Feyre couldn't bring herself to speak. One wrong word and she had no doubt Tamlin would be paying a visit to Rhys, or worse Mor at the shop.

"He didn't threaten you did he?"

Now Feyre was confused. "What?"

"Lucien told me he came past with his thugs a few weeks ago. He also said he left you alone with Rhysand for a moment. He was dealt with but that doesn't matter. I just want to know if you're okay."

Feyre sagged with relief. He didn't know who really owned the coffee store.

"It was nothing. I accidentally hit him with a snowball and I apologised. Nothing more."

"He wasn't mad at you? He's a dangerous man Feyre. He's lucky I wasn't there that day."

"No! It's fine Tamlin honestly. Rhys laughed it off."

Feyre knew her mistake immediately.

"Rhys?"

Without warning, Tamlin flipped the table. Food and cutlery flew from the table. Feyre stumbled back but not before the falling table trapped one of her legs. It didn't hurt much, but Feyre was terrified of what Tamlin would do next. She flinched when he crouched down next to her, regret etched all over his face.

"Feyre I'm so sorry! Are you okay?" He said while pulling the table off her.

Feyre rubbed her leg where she could already see a large bruise forming. Tamlin stroked her hair while murmuring to her about how sorry he was. Feyre started shaking at some point and Tamlin pulled her into his lap to calm her. When she had calmed down he whispered again how sorry he was while kissing her lips. Feyre felt numb and allowed him to hold her and kiss her, but she felt none of it.

The next day Feyre sat awkwardly next to Lucien on their drive to her work. Lucien said nothing about last night but he kept glancing down at her bruised leg despite her wearing long pants. Tamlin must have told him after they got back from the hospital. Feyre insisted it was just bruised but he still carried her to the car and took her to the emergency room just in case anything was broken. He had told the nurse the table fell on her accidentally.

As Feyre went to get out of the car Lucien looked like he wanted to say something before he shook his head as if to clear the thought entirely.

Feyre entered the dim coffee store. Mor had allowed Rhys and Feyre to go in early so he could start her reading lessons before her shifts. She noticed Rhys standing at the back of the store staring at the now empty back wall. All the decorations that had adorned it littered the floor space.

"Is this a decoration class or reading class?" Feyre joked.

Rhys spun immediately at the sound of her voice. "Oh trust me, you'll like what I've done with the place Darling."

As Feyre made her way towards him she noticed his eyes narrow as he saw her slight limp. Feyre made a better attempt to conceal it, nearly wincing as she tried to walk normally.

"What's with the peg leg, pirate?" He asked with no hint of humour.

"I always knew I was clumsy, sometimes life just likes to remind me." Feyre joked.

"Let me see."

"No."

"Feyre I just want to make sure you can still work. Protecting my fine establishment and all that."

Sighing, Feyre rolled up her pant leg to reveal the black and blue bruise across her calf. It had swollen up noticeably since last night. Rhys moved to touch it and Feyre recoiled. Rhys cleared his throat uncomfortably as if sensing he was about to cross a line.

That was when Feyre looked up and noticed the wall paint was different. It had always been a dark colour but now the texture of it was different. On the ground sat a huge bucket of chalk.

"Is this..."

"A giant chalkboard." Said Rhys beaming.

Feyre reached out a hand to touch the rough texture of the wall. "How?"

"Just a certain type of paint. Would you like to try it out?"

Feyre grinned and went to pick up a piece of chalk.

"Not just yet." Rhys said as Feyre pouted. "You can draw and cover this wall as much as you like. After our lessons. For now, this wall is going to be for you to practice your letters and spelling."

Feyre agreed that it was a fair trade and so began her lessons with Rhys. By the time Mor arrived, Rhy's dark clothes had smudges of chalk in various places almost as if someone had thrown chalk at him with some force, but Mor knew better than to comment. She began to set up the store while Feyre received instructions from Rhys, smiling to herself every time a small argument broke out or Feyre called her cousin a prick.

#the snowball #fanfic #acomaf #acotar #feysand #feyre #rhysand #sjm #sjmaas #sarah j maas

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crywankband · 8 years ago

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9th February 2017

Wow. I have done a pretty terrible job of keeping up with this blog. I’ve done a pretty terrible job of a lot recently. I am 26 years old. I do not have a card. I do not have a phone. I do not have a passport. I do not have ID. I do not live anywhere. I do not have a job beyond a music project I call Crywank. I’m trying to remember what I’ve done since I last blogged but it’s largely a blur. I know I went to Manchester and hung with Rose. I’ve been missing her a lot since leaving the house-share so it was nice to go out dancing. We also had an awful hangover day following. I am pretty sure we watched a lot of stuff, but nothing I can really remember... My mind has been pretty wild of recent. I guess it’s hard for minds not be in the current climate. I find it harder to even have opinions though. Everything seems so fallible. Definitions are changing all the time. The current trend seems to be people calling angry right wingers ‘snowflakes’, which I understand the reasoning behind considering how that language is used by them, but it also makes me uncomfortable I think purely because it’s a term I’ve been on the receiving end of a lot. I keep thinking about gender and class and race and religion. I keep trying to make charts finding out which areas connect. I’ve been watching Adam Curtis documentaries which has been interesting. I watched Hyper-Normalization the other day after Mat from Elvis Depressdly posted it on twitter. I really like Adam Curtis and I enjoyed this dock. ‘The century of the self’ is another I would recommend. I spent a night at my parents house and played some cards with my friend Paul, my Dad and my Brother. It still weirds me out going home. It’s huge bursts of nostalgia. I always fear I’m about to be quite rightly shouted at for wasting my life. For making nothing with the opportunities I’ve been given. I played a lot of a game ‘This War of Mine: The Little Ones’. I got super addicted to it and stayed up most of the night playing it. I didn’t realise the characters you played as could kill themselves and got really upset when my last survivor did. It is 5:37am and I am making a coffee in my hotel room. I have gotten really bad at sleeping again. When I stay over at peoples houses it takes me a long time to go to sleep. I feel like a ghost walking around their house making noises. I wish I could sleep. It usually gets to the point each night where it feels too late for sleep, and I should just hold off trying again until the next day. I’d like to stay in bed all day tomorrow but you have to leave the hotel at 10. Oh I also went trampolining at europe’s biggest trampoline park, which was horribly exhausting. I genuinely thought I was gonna die, my heart was beating so fast and I could feel my pulse in the tips of my fingers. I swear I am so unhealthy. I also watched the royal rumble. I really enjoyed the event, but not the rumble itself. I could say more but I’ve not slept and my eyes are sorta tripping out now. I’ve been getting trippy eyes a lot recently. Acidy flashback sorta stuff. It’s pretty weird. I went to V rev to catch up with my friend charlotte in manchester as well which was nice as I hadn’t seen her in ages. I saw Dan but it was super brief. I woke him up in the studio. He is about to move out, it sounds like a lot of drama has been going on in regards to the building, maybe we’ll speak about it at a later date as i don’t wanna cause any legal trouble. Dan is now living somewhere else though I believe now. Neither of us have phone and the last email he sent me was mostly about the cool robot coffee thing he got served by in a shop. It could easily just be dan being impressed by a self-service costa coffee machine though, who knows? I get to see him on sunday which will be nice. He can no longer do the bradford show which makes me sad. The recording is still on though! I came early to Glasgow to go see Slowlight and Min Diesel which was fun. I also so a band from Norway who took a shine to me once they realised I had weed and was nice enough to share. I can’t remember their name though, I’ll have to look through facebook event history. It was super nice getting to see my friend Beth perform again, and I hung out with Tam and Craig from Benjamin Blue who I toured with last year which was nice. We tried a game of monopoly but we didn’t have the power to make it through a full game. The next day was my show which was really nice. I saw a lot of friends and met a lot of nice new people also. I was paid well and the crowd where very sweet. I wish I had merch though, Ill get it sorted one day. I played with Lovers turn to monsters again and it was probably the best time I’ve seen Kyle. I think a lot of Crywank fans would really like his music. I also played with the eagertongue which was interesting. They knew a bunch of people from my past which made me feel a bit silly and paranoid but they where very nice and it was cool to share a bill with a noise act. The next day I went to go see Chrissy Barnacle perform which was amazing as always. We also saw a Glasgow Taiko group called ILK I believe which was really interesting. And a sort of vaudeville two piece act who I enjoyed and hated in equal measures, which I guess is better than indifference in regards to lasting impression, but not necessarily the best impression. Me and Boab then got drunk and had pizza and this was cool. The next day I went on an epic four hour walk around Glasgow and hung out with Nyla and Kim at theirs. It was nice having a rest day. I cooked a sunday roast (even though it was monday, i told myself it was sunday the whole time though and only realised it wasn’t right now), and then we spent the night listening to cool music and watching documentaries. It was really nice and relaxing. A much needed evening. Yesterday a group of us went to a pub quiz, we came third, but we lost two drawing teams by a point. We were so close, although I feel like I wasn’t much pub quiz help (I nearly got everyone to put a few incorrect answers down). The team name was “jet fuel can’t melt quiz teams” which I thought was pretty great. Then after the quiz me and Chrissy darted to the hairdressers to Kapils show. The first band weren’t really my cup of tea. I guess I could tap my toe to it, but it was also pretty indulgent. The second band where so gnarly though, it was their last show so I’m super buzzed I got to see them. They were called op, I’ve not listening to their recordings yet but you can search them here: https://oppt.bandcamp.com/ We then darted back to catch the last 15 minutes of Rapid Tan who where super cool. Yesterday I spent a lot of it online being slow and boring. I then eventually made it to an improv night which I really enjoyed. I saw my friend Leo and watched some interesting (and occasionally difficult/noisy/bad) improv. There was some cool visuals there and a nice inclusive atmosphere. I played percussion for the scoring of a mario kart tournament which I enjoyed. It’s rare I get an opportunity to play the drums. I’ve spent the rest of the night laying around sweating all over this hotel bed and not sleeping and blogging and chatting to people and being gross and pathetic and stupid loser and writing things I may regret. Who knows. I bubble with paranoia a lot. Sometimes I think everyone is awful, and I don’t know if I think this is awful or ok.

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houseofbrij · 5 years ago

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As many of you may have already guessed from my recent horde of posts, I went to Australia a little while back. To say that this was the best trip of my life would be an understatement, because in reality I feel as if I have come back part Australian myself. So, settle in and grab some Tim Tams (Walmart in Canada sells them you can thank me later) as I take you through all the things I saw, did, and most importantly, what I ATE.

Now I would be lying if I said that I wasn’t apprehensive about the trip from the beginning, mainly because I feel like everyone did such a great job of terrifying me about every living creature that could possibly kill me. In reality I did not see a single snake, crocodile, spider, shark, or jellyfish. So, if anyone tries to describe Australia as some sort of zoo gone wild, I think that’s rubbish (that’s Australian for garbage).

I was also apprehensive about meeting my family after what had been over 14 years. And I know it sounds funny to be scared of seeing one’s own family, but I felt that so much time had passed since we had been together that they no longer knew who I was, and the memory of the sweet child they once knew was far from the reality of the crazy parade that you all know (and hopefully love) today.

Anyways, here I was, on a continuous 16-hour flight from Vancouver to Sydney, then on to Melbourne.

Day 1: I land in Melbourne in the afternoon, and am picked up by my parents and my cousin (a Melbourne local). Sadly, due to the tight schedule of my trip, I did not get to explore the city as we drove right from the airport and began on our road trip (I’ll come back Melbourne I promise!). We headed straight towards the historic Great Ocean Road (See photos below). If you are ever fortunate enough to visit Australia, this drive is a MUST. The coastal villages nestled between seaside cliffs and white sandy beaches are one of the most spectacular sights I have laid my eyes upon. For dinner, we stopped at Lorne where I had a life changing laksa and green coconut curry at a place called Chopstix.

What do you mean standing in the middle of a highway isn’t safe?

After witnessing a sunset that I assumed was painted by Bob Ross, we headed into the Great Otway National park where we had a cabin booked for the night. The drive through this pitch-black jungle was more eventful than you would assume as we were visited by many kangaroos hopping along, baby koalas just sitting on the road, and the cleansing smell of eucalyptus following you throughout the journey.

Day 2: We continued along the Great ocean road, stopping at the 12 Apostles. The apostles are a series of limestone stacks formed by years or erosion. The place was bustling with tourists and children on school trips but no one seemed to mind the crowd as everyone was affiliated on the stunning views of the limestone cliffs and the sound of waves crashing below. We continued along the scenic drive towards Robe, where we would be meeting my aunt and uncle. For dinner we had Pizza (not like Dominos, but GOOD pizza) at The Project.

Day 3: Spent the day just exploring the town of Robe. The town is essentially a quaint seaside village filled with cute little shops and restaurants. It kind of gave off a Hamptons vibe except much smaller and with less real housewives starting fights inside artisan cheese shops (although they may have just been hiding in a bush somewhere along with all the snakes, crocodiles, and sharks I was warned about). Lunch and dinner were made at home (our Air B&B). While in Robe, we also went cheese tasting at a family owned dairy right outside of town and did a little wine tasting at a small booth set up on the sidewalk (I know that sounds sketchy but it was actually really cute). Lunch and dinner were cooked at home.

Day 4: After breakfast (more like brunch), we started driving towards Adelaide where my family lives. We stopped along the drive once or twice however it was 42 C that day so I don’t think anyone could handle being outside for more than 5 mins. Went for a sunset walk to the beach once things cooled down slightly.

We even saw Natalie Portman in her iconic role as Black Swan

Day 5-6: Explored the beautiful city of Adelaide. Went to Cleland Wildlife Park where I got to pet a koala and feed kangaroos by hand. It took all my self control to not grab one of these adorable animals and run. Adelaide is also known for its great wine country and so we went wine tasting at D’Arenberg. The winery is absolutely stunning and features a Salvador Dali museum inside the building. The wine was great too but after glass number 3 it was all a little hazy to be quite honest. For the meals, we had great Chinese food (thanks Groupon), and Pies. No, not dessert pies, but savoury meat (and vegetarian) pies that can be found everywhere in little shops called bakeries. I miss the pies.

Cute little balls of fluff. DONT try to hug one, they seem to not like that.

His name is Jay and he is my son and I would die for him.

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Dali inspired winery with a surrealist museum inside.

Day 7: Left Adelaide early in the morning and flew to Cairns. Cairns is along the Northeast coast of Australia (or as I like to call it, the cat ear. Yes, Australia is shaped like a cat’s head. I refuse to believe otherwise), and it is also labelled the gateway to the Great Barrier Reef. We actually stayed in Port Douglas which is a 30-minute drive north of Cairns and even closer to the reefs. This whole area is reminiscent of something you would see on Survivor or Castaway. White sandy beaches met with dense tropical rainforests, and the water a vibrant turquoise. Oh, did I mention the temperature was 30 C the whole time? (someone please take me back, I’m begging…)

Day 8: Started the morning by going to the local farmers market (which is a great place to find souvenirs made by local artists), followed by a full day tour of the Great Barrier Reef with Quicksilver. Now I know these tours are expensive BUT let me just tell you that they are absolutely worth every penny. It was one of the most surreal moments of my life to be snorkeling in 25-degree water among schools of thousands of fish and delicate coral. There is a reason the Great Barrier Reef is considered one of the natural wonders of the world, and I am fortunate enough to have experienced it in all its glory. Lunch was served aboard the ship. For dinner we had Thai food at Star of Siam (best Tom Yum Soup I’ve had). Something else I noticed was that Australia’s proximity to Southeast Asia meant that there was amazing Southeast Asian food (also seafood, LOTS of seafood!).

Disclaimer: not my photo. I was too busy enjoying the day, also iphone+saltwater=no.

Day 9: Spent the day exploring Daintree Rainforest. I hiked through a tropical rainforest and did not see a single snake or spider (although I did have anxiety that I would see one. To all those who scared me with stories of terrifying snakes in AUS, please message me… I just wanna talk…). Although I did really want to see a crocodile since they are really prevalent in this area (I love crocodiles I think they are very cute no I’m not crazy). For dinner we had Indian food at Sabi’s Kitchen. (Here’s a riddle for you: what do you call an Indian family that goes on vacation and doesn’t eat Indian food? They’re probably not Indian.) (I’m not complaining, I love Indian food!)

Day 10: Left Port Douglas for Cairns and stopped along the Palm Cove area where we went swimming. Later, In Cairns we had dinner at Bayleaf Balinese Restaurant. After dinner we ventured into the Cairn’s night market. I really suggest you go to this night market because you can get all your souvenir shopping done! (I may or may not have bought 10 fridge magnets and multiple t-shirts.)

Day 11: We had booked a train journey on the historic Kuranda Rail. The train ride was over two hours, and takes you up the mountain while offering sweeping views of the coastline below. At the top of the mountain is the Kuranda village which is filled with art galleries, shops, and restaurants. On the way down, we opted to take the cable car, and stopped at each of the three stops. Each stop has small hiking trails that take you deeper into the dense world heritage listed rainforest and offer spectacular views. Fun fact: this is the same rainforest that inspired the setting from James Cameron’s Avatar.

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Day 12: In the morning we explored the Cairns Botanical Gardens which feature the wonders of the natural rainforest found in the area. In the afternoon we arrived for our flight to Sydney. We landed in Sydney and were met by more members of our family. Dinner at home.

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Day 13: This was my only day in Sydney, and so I wanted to explore as much as I could! Started the day off at the Harbour Bridge, followed by a tour of the Sydney Opera House. I really recommend taking this tour as it is the only way to get inside the Opera House, plus it offers an insight into the history and architecture of the building. Later we took a ferry from the harbour to Manly Beach where we went swimming (this beach is absolutely amazing, please put it on your list. You’ve been keeping a list, right?!?) For dinner, our family took us to the Indian neighborhood in Sydney where I got to experience the best Indian street food outside of India (maybe it was just as good, who knows? I was busy stuffing my face)

The Dragon Ball Z shirt IS a fashion statment, no I will not be taking questions at this time. Thank you.

Day 14: Woke up, had brunch with the family, and then headed for the airport to return home. I did strongly consider just sneaking out of the airport and starting my life as an Australian surfer dude named Joey. Flight back home was horrible mainly because I was returning to -15C weather.

Anyways, if you’re still reading this, I owe you a beer. Let’s catch up sometime! (preferably in Australia) Till then, G’day mate!

Australian to English Translator:

AUSTRALIAN ENGLISH G’Day Hello. How ya goin’? They’re not asking what mode of transportation you’re using, probably just asking how are you. Thong Flip flops. If someone asks for these, do NOT give them your underwear. Barbie Barbecue, not the doll. Bathers Swimsuit. Beauty! Great! Perfect! Crikey An expression of surprise. Not an invitation to play cricket, although they might like that too. The “C” word Used when exchanging pleasantries between close friends and family. If someone calls you this, you’ve most likely entered the mate zone. (unless they’re angry then run) Lollies Sweets.

Australia As many of you may have already guessed from my recent horde of posts, I went to Australia a little while back.

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roundtheworldwithtaytay · 6 years ago

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Today we leave the lovely Isle of Skye and it has been purely magical. I have to say that the next leg of our trip I am looking the most forward to as it has to do with my favorite man, person, grandpa on the planet, my Popa Ray and his family, the Chisholms.

We leave Hamie and Katherine and thank you for their amazing hospitality. Katherine gives us a delightful care package and we are on our way, stopping briefly at the beautiful Eilean Donan Castle, in Kyle of Lochlash. It is truly spectacular and one of the most, if not the most picturesque castle that I have ever seen in my life. The MacRae’s seem to know a good spot. That is the last of things we will see today that have no significance of either my family or Tam’s

Next stop… Loch Ness (yes that Loch Ness) and Urquhart Castle which were it not in ruin would rival Eilean Donan. Urquhart Castle was a castle that my family had stronghold of in the 1600’s. It is perfectly positioned in one of the most beautiful areas of Loch Ness. We take a walk around. This is my second time to see the castle, but a first from the inside. I saw it last time via a boat. We don’t spot Nessie, so we decide to move along. Next off to Cannich and Glen Affric which were my family’s clan lands.

We drive into Cannich, stopping briefly at a church and later a house that I believe to be Comar Lodge, my family’s original clan seat. There is a sign out front threatening to shoot anyone who trespasses. Seems to check out with my feisty family. I don’t want to rock the boat so we move on.

We drive down through Glen Affric, stopping to hike up to a viewpoint of the gorgeous lands. I collect some thistle flowers, 5 total as representatives of my direct Chisholm family (Popa, my mom, brother, sister and me) and put it aside to dry. We walk down and then drive further to the Chisholm Bridge and clan land marker for Clan Chisholm. The moment is indescribable with both beauty and emotion. I breathe in as much of the gorgeous Glen Affric air before we get into the car to drive on to another overlook of the area with a Chisholm stone. We drive past sheep and then out of the corner of my eye saw a sign. “Comar Lodge.” We in fact had not seen my family’s clan seat.

We drive up and I get out to knock on the door. I don’t want to just taking pictures of this privately owned home. I am met by Mr. Ian Muir who kindly invites us into the property to take a look around, explaining that his family bought it from the Chisholm’s and had changed very little.

He allows us to look about the place asking us to pay attention to the fireplace in the master bedroom. It has my ancestor Roderick Chisholm’s initials in it. He also later shows us where the Clan use to sharpen their blades on the front entryway stone before imparting more knowledge of my family, most of it I already knew. His favorite explaining that Bonnie Prince Charlie was rumored to have stayed there when fleeing the British after the Battle of Culloden. I knew this story well as there is a story that 8 men hid the Bonnie Price, 3 of them were apparently Chisholms.

We thank Mr. Muir for his kindness and take one last look around before heading off to the Chisholm stone lookout and then onto St. Mary’s of Eskadale where many of my ancestors are buried. The church is picturesque and tucked off the road. To find it I had to do a lot of research as it is not easily discovered and does not appear on GPS. We find the church and take a look around. I attempt some grave rubbings while Tammy documents all of my ancestor graves.

Time is not in our favor so we leave, stopping briefly at Cnoc Hotel and have a beer in the Chisholm Bar before heading off to try to see Erchless Castle, my family’s castle clan seat. Unfortunately this is a private estate now that rents out for a lot of money so we are unable. We instead opt for the cemetery close by. After ducking through a heavily vegetated area we round the corner to one of the most magnificent Celtic cross tombstones that I have ever seen in my life along with some smaller ones, all bearing my family’s crest and motto, “feros ferio,” meaning “I am Fierce With the Fierce.” Essentially this was a call of warriors of which my family was. There is historical significance that they fought with Robert the Bruce, William Wallace and were Jacobite’s who fought at the Battle of Culloden.

This whole experience is so surreal. Just a year ago I heard, for the first time, the history of this side of my family. This family is still warriors, all serving in the United States Army. They are very humble, but come from extraordinary beginnings. Loyalty and honor still a cornerstone of my people and one that I pride myself on. In this moment, in this beautiful cemetery I know where I come from and I understand myself for probably one of the first times in my life. There is a reason I love Scotland. It is in my blood and is in my bones.

I begrudgingly move on from this sacred ground. Once again time is not on our side and we are hoping to make it to Tulloch Castle (once clan seat of Clan McBean, Tammy’s mother’s family). The castle has since been turned into a beautiful hotel. We make it to the castle as the sun is setting. It is much later than we anticipated, around 9pm. The restaurant is closed so we decide to go into the bar.

I order a Scotland brewed, “Woohah,” and we sit down and chat. As we are finishing off our first beer a man come’s in to alert guests of the castle to grab another drink as they would be permitted to carry it through the ghost tour of the castle. Without hesitation I tell Tam, “we are going on this tour.” She battles me slightly before determining there is nothing that is going to stop me from going.

We head through the castle with other guests learning that it is haunted by a young girl who broke her neck falling after catching her father with another woman, not her mother. The tour is fun and like most ghost tours, but the best part is it affords us to see parts of the castle we otherwise would not have seen had we just had dinner or a drink.

It is getting late and although we have a final check in time of midnight, it is sometime around 11 p.m. We have to get to Inverness to check into our BNB. We just make it, pulling suitcases in around 11:45. We manage to settle in and immediately go to bed, both exhausted from an amazing day.

#scotland #clanchisholm #ferosferio #comarlodge #cnochotel #erchlesscastle #urqhartcastle #tullochcastle #cannich #inverness #eileandonancastle #glenaffric #stmarysofeskadale #chisholmstone #chisholmbridge #clanmcbean #lochness

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celtfather · 6 years ago

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Celtic Halloween #381

Happy Halloween with ghoulish Celtic music from The Here & Now, Diamh, Merry Wives of Windsor, Flowers of Edinburgh, Gone Molly, Melanie Gruben, Madman's Window, Wolf & Clover, 3 Pints Gone, Cara Dillon, Janette Geri, Stout Pounders, Finnegan's Hell, Heavy Blarney, Anne Roos. http://celticmusicpodcast.com/

I hope you enjoyed this week's show. If you did, please share the show with ONE friend.

The Irish & Celtic Music Podcast is dedicated to growing our community and helping the incredible artists who so generously share their music. If you find music you love, buy their albums, shirts, and songbooks, follow them on Spotify, see their shows, and drop them an email to let them know you heard them on the Irish and Celtic Music Podcast.

Remember also to Subscribe to the Celtic Music Magazine. Every week, I'll send you 5 or 6 cool bits of Celtic music news. It's a quick and easy way to plug yourself into more great Celtic culture. Plus, you'll get 34 Celtic MP3s for Free, just for signing up today. Thank you again for being a Celt of Kindness.

VOTE IN THE CELTIC TOP 20

It's easier than ever to do. Just list the show number, and the name of one or two bands. That's it. You can vote once for each episode help me create next year's Best Celtic music of 2018 episode. http://bestcelticmusic.net/vote/

THIS WEEK IN CELTIC MUSIC

0:04 "Winding Rambling Pumpkin" by The Here & Now from The Winding Stair

6:19 "Bog An Lochan" by Diamh from The Hebridean Sessions

11:23 "Three Ravens/Twa Corbies" by Merry Wives of Windsor from Bottoms Up

15:05 "Attack of the Moon Tigers" by Flowers of Edinburgh from Attack of the Moon Tigers

17:51 "I Am Stretched on Your Grave" by Gone Molly from Gone Molly

21:01 CELTIC FEEDBACK

24:11 "A Faery Song" by Melanie Gruben from A Faery Song

26:12 "Sam Hall" by Madman's Window from Avast

31:36 "Si Bheag Si Mhor" by Wolf & Clover from Wolf & Clover

34:37 "The Ballad of Roddy McCorley" by 3 Pints Gone from Live at the Shamrock Club

37:47 "October Winds" by Cara Dillon from After the Morning

42:07 CELTIC PODCAST NEWS

44:57 "Barbra Allen" by Janette Geri from Among the Flowers

49:43 "Pumpkin's Fancy" by Stout Pounders from Pour Decisions

52:03 "Dance Upon You Grave" by Finnegan's Hell from Life and Death

54:35 "Drowsy Tam Lin" by Heavy Blarney from From Bog to Swamp

59:01 "A Bruxa [The Witch]" by Anne Roos from A Light in the Forest

The Irish & Celtic Music Podcast was produced by Marc Gunn, The Celtfather. To subscribe, go to Apple Podcasts or to our website where you can become a Patron of the Podcast for as little as $1 per episode. Promote Celtic culture through music at http://celticmusicpodcast.com/.

CELTIC PODCAST NEWS

* Helping you celebrate Celtic culture through music. My name is Marc Gunn. I am a Celtic musician and podcaster. This show is dedicated to the indie Celtic musicians. I want to ask you to support these artists. Share the show with your friends. And find more episodes at celticmusicpodcast.com. You can also support this podcast on Patreon.

Thursday, October 25 at 8:30 PM is my 5th annual Celtic Halloween Concert on YouTube. Every year, I share ghoulishly fun Celtic songs with a fun Halloween twist. It's like costuming in song. You can watch the show live or watch the replay on YouTube if you miss the concert.

My Top Irish & Celtic Music Playlist is newly updated on Spotify.

For the past couple months, I've accidentally published episodes with explicit language. As soon as I recognized my error, I fixed the files on our host server. Unfortunately, many platforms host files on their own servers instead of Libsyn's. This inspired a change in how I release shows.

In the future, Apple Podcasts will be the only clean podcast. Explicit language may show up on Spotify or Stitcher or other podcatchers that don't pull the file directly from Libsyn each time. But if you listen on Apple Pocasts or even our free app, they will be clean if I catch it soon enough.

Second, some folks have asked why many older shows don't appear in the app. Apple Podcasts only allows the most-recent 300 episodes to appear. So again, if you want better access to all of the shows, go get our free app on iTunes or Amazon.

Finally, I've been advertising on Facebook for a few years now to promote the podcast and attract new folks. I would love your help in doing more. I recently asked The Selkie Girls to record one for the Women of Irish & Celtic Music. It was a huge success. I'd love to get some testimonials from you that can be turned into 30 second ads. Are you interested? Email me [email protected]

TRAVEL WITH CELTIC INVASION VACATIONS

Every year, I take a small group of Celtic music fans on the relaxing adventure of a lifetime. We don't see everything. Instead, we stay in one area. We get to know the region through it's culture, history, and legends. You can join us with an auditory and visual adventure through podcasts and videos.

2019 is the Celtic Invasion of Star Wars. 2020 is the Origins of Celtic Invasions. You can find out more about these two exciting trips. Join the invasion at http://celticinvasion.com/

THANK YOU PATRONS OF THE PODCAST!

I don’t know about you. But I am not a fan of corporate influence. Certainly not in politics, but also not in the music I create and share. That’s one of the reasons that the Irish & Celtic Music Podcast supports independent Celtic musicians. I want to help the artists who don’t have a record label or a giant production company behind them. They are doing everything themselves. Just like we are. Your support of this podcast helps with that mission.

This show is listener supported. Instead of trying to find advertisers, I've decided to let your generosity fund the creation, production, and promotion of the show. You'll get episodes before regular listeners, discounts on merch, and when we hit a milestone, you get extra special episodes, including a bonus episode of the Celtic Christmas Podcast that will come out next month.

I want to thank our newest patrons of the podcast: Howard M., Bob H., Martin K., Glenn N., Jay M., Robert L., Maggie H., Mike C., John D., Stefan J., Kylie D.. Thanks also to Mary M. who raised her pledge.

And finally, I want to give a huge thanks to Marianne Ludwig. She is one of the all new Celtic Legends.

This tier is newly updated. Celtic Legends pledge a minimum of $25 per month. You see, when you pledge on Patreon, you can pledge per episode, but you can also set a maximum amount you're willing to donate to the podcast per month. If you're a Song Henger, you can pledge $5 per episode and limit it to four episodes (5 is the rare maximum I ever release in a month). But you can also limit it to one or two episodes and pay just $5 or $10 per month.

As a Celtic Legend, you can pledge $25 per episode and then limit your maximum amount per month to $25. At the beginning of every month, I will read your name and all of our Celtic Legends to the community in thanks.

You can become a generous Patron of the Podcast at http://patreon.com/celticpodcast

I WANT YOUR FEEDBACK

What are you doing today while listening to the podcast? You can send a written comment along with a picture of what you're doing while listening. Email a voicemail message to [email protected]

Donald Willms emailed: Hi Mark, I found myself laying under the prairie stars with your voice and tunes tickling my ears. My sister and I pulled into the Indian Head Campground after dark while driving through Saskatchewan. I was about to pull out my tent but couldn’t bring myself to put a nylon veil between my eyelids and the endless heavens. If only the wee eye in my phone could capture the enormous beauty before me as the crescent moon rises and comet dust blazes fiery streaks above. Cheers! These words may have to suffice…"

Charles Morley in Alabama replied to the Celtic Music Magazine email: "Really appreciate your site and messages, Marc. You do a great service to the ITM community. Don't have much of a chance to listen regularly but you present the best of a wide-ranging genre of music that would otherwise be impossible to track down and experience. News of new music (CDs etc.) is priceless, especially for the American audience. Keep up the good work!"

Mike O'Byrne emailed: "Hi Marc, I thought about the podcast this Saturday as I was making a static line parachute jump with the Phantom Airborne Brigade, a group of former and current military parachutists who get together every month at Zephyrhills, Florida. Nothing like having some good music as you float down under that big round chute. I’m still replaying your Memorial Day Special, one of your best IMHO. If you know of any other Celtic music-loving former military airborne folks, send them our way. Age is no limitation. I am 74."

Ross McMath emailed: "Hello, I listen to the podcast every day at work. In moments when a great reel or tune is being played it provides my whole being with joy. I copy all my favourite songs to be added to a few playlists I have going on Spotify (Celtic and Soft Celtic) - there are over 160 songs on the playlist already with more in line to be added. Thank you so much for all your efforts in finding and producing all this amazing music for an under-listened to but fantastic genre. Kind regards, Ross"

Check out this episode!

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culturegazing · 6 years ago

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Interviews | Yu Yen

Yu Yen is a Masters’ student in London who frequently sends me photos of faces she makes with food. The first time we met was at an awkward welcoming party where I gave her a Tim Tam and she gave me Taiwanese cookies. Food just makes people bond.

CG: Hi! Where were you born and where do you live now?

Y: I was born in Taiwan and live in the UK now.

CG: Have you ever lived anywhere else?

Y: Yeah Nishinomiya, Japan for about one year.

CG: What are the main differences between these cities? Did you experience any culture shock?

Y: Sorry pal, I think I need some time like 10 minutes to think about this question.

CG: (laughs) Yeah take your time.

Y: Main differences 1. The distance between people (This varies from person to person though) I think in Nishinomiya and New Taipei City (where I was born), people tend to be more hospitable, while in London people may just want you to leave them alone. Besides that, when I came to London, some people reminded me to be more aware when walking on the street, because in some areas theft and robbery have been a problem. However, in Japan or Taiwan, that is not a serious problem, so I feel I can trust others more.

2. Diversity No matter in Japan or back in Taiwan, foreigners, especially those who apparently ‘look different’ from local people, easily draw attention. However, in London, I guess most people are used to meeting people from different countries/cultures, so that situation rarely happens here.

3. Japan is quite collectivist, Taiwan is kind of in the middle, and the UK is more individualist.

4. (I am not sure if this counts or not) At school, people from the Western world are more likely to actively give their opinions or answer questions in class and I think it is because they are encouraged to do so and being different is not deemed as a bad thing in their societies.

5. Culture shock

UK 1. In my hometown or in Japan, the density of convenience stores is quite high, while in London, albeit it is such a metropolis, I have to walk for about 10 minutes to find one, which I think is less convenient. 2. From my observation, I think people do not care about public cleanliness that much in London. For example, compared to Japan and Taiwan, public transportation as a whole here is much dirtier. Moreover, they are less environmentally conscious because they do not really do recycling as much as people in Taiwan or Japan.

Japan 1. No makeup sometimes may be considered inconsiderate in Japanese society. Comparatively speaking, they spend lots of time and efforts on their appearance and think following the fashion is quite important. 2. There is a very strict hierarchical structure in their society. Examples can be seen even at schools where you have to respect the seniors a lot. As for the workplace, you have to use 'keigo' when talking to your boss, which does not exist in Taiwanese or British culture.

I think there's more but these are the things I could come up with so far.

CG: Wow! That is a long list, thanks for sharing! So how did you end up in London and what are you doing there?

Y: This may sound a bit stupid but it’s true haha. I felt so happy being able to learn new things and make friends with people from different countries when I was in Japan. Based on that experience and after talking to some of my friends and family, I decided to go and study abroad again. Since I didn’t want to spend too much time on it, I decided to come here to study MSc International Marketing on a one-year program. Also, I heard that London is a diverse city where I can experience a totally different life. And partly because I’ve never been to this side of the world so I wanted to give it a try when getting the chance to do so. I feel that’s a bit stupid now because studying a masters degree is not as interesting as studying as an exchange student.

CG: I don’t think it sounds stupid at all. What do you miss most about Taiwan?

Y: I miss my family, friends and dogs the most. I also miss tasty and cheap food. (laughs) I think I miss the sense of belonging and how convenient it is, like cleaner public transportation and the high density of convenience stores.

CG: What were the best things about exchange in Japan?

Y: 1. Being able to meet people from different countries/backgrounds which could indeed be life-changing (as you said haha) 2. Learning Japanese and travelling around Japan I think learning a language in the country where it is spoken and travelling around allowed me to learn more cultural things (e.g. their dialects and differences within the country) 3. JASSO [a scholarship] because I think it’s quite important to be economically independent to some degree 4. New products in convenience store/supermarkets Haha they launched new package or new products so often and I do appreciate some of their ideas (and liked trying new ice cream flavours hehe) which made me become more interested in marketing 5. The standard of living is high (Like Japan is safe and clean)

CG: Interesting. What do you love to do?

Y: I like watching TV, reading novels, travelling, cooking, making crafts (like handmade cards), listening to the music, and Postcrossing (does this count?)

CG: Cool! Yeah Postcrossing counts! Where have you received postcards from

Y: I’ve received postcards from Australia, Austria, Belarus, Belgium, Brazil, Bulgaria, Canada, China, Czech, Dominican Republic, Estonia, Finland, France, Germany, Hong Kong, Hungary, India, Indonesia, Ireland, Italy, Japan, Korea, Latvia, Lithuania, Malaysia, Netherlands, New Zealand, Poland, Portugal, Russia, Serbia, Singapore, South Africa, Spain, Switzerland, Thailand, Turkey, the USA, Ukraine, and the UK. Most of them were from Germany, Russia, USA, Netherlands, and Finland.

CG: Oh my gosh, that’s so many! I’ve thought about signing up for a while.

What are some of your favourite TV shows and books?

Y: Usually I like watching dramas and Taiwanese TV shows. Do you want me to tell you the names of them?. And there’s a Japanese TV show called ‘Why Did You Come to Japan?’ that I liked watching (because I haven’t watched for a long time) As for books, Harry Potter (but I’m not sure if I’d wanna read them again now...) Pride and Prejudice, Jimmy Liao’s picture books, and a Chinese novel called ‘The Color of the Deep Ocean’ are my favourites.

CG: Sure I’d like to know the names of the shows you like!

F: There’s one called WTO Sister Show (the English name is probably a bit weird but basically it’s a talk show and some foreigners living in or moving to Taiwan are the regulars). And I also watch a talk show called 小燕有約 and others like ‘Stylish Man the Chef’ (a cooking show) and Mr. Player (a game show). Sorry they all have strange English names. And one doesn’t have English name.

CG: Do the shows and books you like share common themes?

I’d say not really. The shows and books I like don’t share common themes and sometimes can be quite different actually.

CG: What has been the best year of your life so far?

Y: Umm I’d say the exchange year in Japan. Though I also experienced something sad in the year, I think it was still the best year of my life because it was the first time I left home (for such a long time) and stepped out of my comfort zone, which made me know myself better (kinda haha) and explore the world more as well. And probably also because I didn’t expect I’d make so many friends during the year so when I met so many amazing and kind people (you’re one of them haha) I felt so lucky and thankful.

CG: What do you think society could do without?

Y: I think my answer sounds too utopian but here it is. - Discrimination and gender inequality: because it’s quite unfair that one being is treated differently just by things he/she can’t decide, and it is who they really are that is more important, instead of what gender, ethnic, etc they are. (But sometimes I probably also make judgments beforehand...) - Hatred because so many tragedies have resulted from this - Criminals (I don’t know if this is too general or if this sounds like a social justice warrior...): Although this may be related to the social structure and their family backgrounds, I just feel there are probably better ways to solve problems instead of committing a crime. - Weapons: It’s quite important that countries should protect their citizens but if there weren’t weapons, we’d probably try to solve confrontations between countries in a more peaceful way.

CG: Interesting. Where do you see yourself in the future?

Y: To be honest, I don’t really know how to achieve these goals and also doubt my abilities but anyways... I hope I can: 1. Earn my masters degree first (haha) 2. Get a job related to marketing that allows me to earn enough money to support myself (become economically independent) and simultaneously make people happy in some way (e.g. by satisfying their needs/wants like what Disney/USJ/Sanrio etc do). 3. Take my family travelling and give them anything they want 4. Meet you guys and all the friends I made in Japan again 5. Travel as much as I can 6. Become a better person (may sound a bit cliche but it’s true (laughs)

CG: Awesome! Thanks so much for sharing a small part of your life with me!

Yu Yen’s awesome food faces

Her dogs, 5 & 7

#culturegazing #interviews

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