#it took longer than what im used to but produced a nice result i think

[eggwishing]

messing around with lineart

[cythieus]

Any Port in a Storm Part I

Peach’s thin fingers leafed through the pages pinned to the clipboard, her eyes scanning the information in each blank and bubble. The lanyard, that she had gotten to fight her bad habit of losing pens, had actually ended up nudging her toward a new propensity to chew on them. She fought the instinct for now and at least she was always sure where the pens were.

She flipped to the front page, her vision tracing a path over the patient name and general information. Slipping the clipboard neatly into the slot at the footboard of the bed, she let the pen drop from her mouth to hang from her neck and dipped her hands into the pockets of her lab coat. The coat was such a shade of pink that it seemed it might have once been white and was just washed with something red by accident. She never replied to inquiries about whether its color was intended or not.

“Your charts are trending really well, Mr. Meeks,” Peach said. “The swelling has dropped off tremendously and you’re more alert than you were just a few hours ago.” She was sure to flash a smile, but she didn’t let it linger on her face for long. This visit wasn’t all good news.

Meeks replied with words too garbled to mean anything to anyone other than him. Tears welled up in his eyes as he spoke, letting Peach know the desperation behind whatever it was he was trying to get across. It was to be expected that speech would suffer given the severity of the stroke.

“I know that you’ve got a lot of questions,” she said. “I will be here to answer them as soon as things are a little better,” Peach said stepping around to the side of his bed. Her hand touched his forehead and she smoothed back the dark brown hair plastered to his skin.

“I’ll come around and check on you in a bit,” Peach said. It was best not to give exact times, the expectation might of her showing up might upset him and his mind was still foggy. There was no telling if he would be napping when she came back or if he would remember this conversation all that clearly. These first few days were bound to be a haze, but there could be some crucial developments too.

She waved curtly at him before turning to leave the room through the wide, mauve colored door. There was a sink in the center of this wing of the hospital, just across from the nurses station. She washed her hands in it, rolling up the sleeves of her coat to scrub halfway up to her elbows. A small group doctors and nurses passed, walking in a tight group and talking in hushed tones.

The whole world was hushed tones. It had been a sixteen hour shift so far and though there were times where she could take a short rest, most of her time had been spent on her feet. It would be several weeks before there were any relief either.

Absently, she dipped into the on-call room to grab a cup of water and just rest in one of the huge plush chairs. Peach didn’t know exactly when her eyes shut or for how long she was out. If someone had needed her they knew where to check on days like this. That was part of the problem.

“Peaches!”

Daisy’s excited scream was enough to rouse Peach, but not enough for her to open her eyes. Maybe if she pretended to be sleep Daisy would move on or was that bears…

“Wow, you smarmy bitch, I know you hear me,” Daisy said.

Peach could hear Daisy’s footsteps as she crossed the on-call room. The light from the hallway cut through her eye lids, causing a dull pain in the front of her forehead.

“The whole floor can hear you,” Peach said finally, shutting her eyes tighter against the light.

“Heard you were in here.” Daisy was standing right over her now, half-silhouetted by the light pouring in through the door. She wore a loud orange, yellow and white sundress with a frilly skirt and high heels. She always stood out against the beige and white tones that lined the halls of this hospital.

“Are you working today?” Peach asked.

Daisy cracked a little smile, her bronze skin had a luster to it even in the in the darkness of this room. “I’m always working, but no, I’m here seeing Luigi. I’ll be on the road for a bit with this new launch coming up, I might not get to see him for a while.”

“Do you need the room?” Asked Peach.

With a flick of her hand Daisy dismissed the question. “Nah,” she said before she folded her arms over her chest. “If we’re going to screw in this dreary place I’d rather do it in one of the empty rooms in the children’s wing.”

“You’re the worst,” Peach said.

“I know, but the little pictures of parading Goombas and Mushroom people they plaster on the sides of the beds make me smile,” Daisy said.

They had both gone through medical school together. Long before even that they were best friends, in fact Daisy they had known each other since before either of them could talk, but part of the way through their residency Daisy had chosen a different route in the industry: she was a sales rep for Gadd Pharmaceutical. It was her job to travel the region and teach hospital staff about new drugs or update them on treatment options afforded to them by drugs available to them.

Peach yawned, her arms and legs jerking out out so that she could stretch. There was no point trying to get Daisy to filter herself. “Have you found him yet?”

Daisy shook her head. “No, but I saw your little boy toy,” Daisy said giving the front of Peach’s chair a series of rapid kicks.

“Stop it,” Peach said, her fingers pressed against the sides of the bridge of her nose out of sheer frustration.

“He always asks about you and, like, he works in this place with you. How’s that going?” Daisy asked.

“I don’t fraternize like that here--” Peach said.

“—you’re definitely not fraternizing anyone and haven’t for a while. When was the last time you went out?” Daisy asked.

Peach sighed. “Half your job is taking people out and buttering them up,” she said. “It’s different in here.”

“You’re not only in here though, Peach. I might as well buy you a big crate of D-batteries and four weird cats so you can just settle down to be one of those old women who’s only source of sexual tension is the weird bag boy at the grocery store.”

“Hey, my life has sexual tension!” Okay, maybe that was too loud.

“There’s more sexual tension in nursery rhymes without people in them,” Daisy said. She crossed the room and poured herself a cup of coffee. Then she produced a small flask from a pocket hidden in the ruffles of her dress and poured a splash in with her coffee. “Talk to Mario. We can go on double dates.”

Daisy took a sip of coffee and then dumped the rest of the flask in. “We’ll be dating twins. Twins that are doctors. We could swap stories about them over mimosas and you can tell me if I’m right about Mario’s crank—“

“—Ew, Daisy no. I don’t—I don’t have time for those things right now.”

“Meow.” Daisy said after another, longer drink.

“What are you doing?”

“Meow,” Daisy said again. “I’m going to meow like a cat when you make excuses for not having a life. I’ll come to your apartment and just slap your stuff off shelves and pee in your shoes too until you get your personal life together.”

“You know I have other friends, right?”

“Sure you do.”

“Luigi and I get along well. And Doctor Bowser is a little, extra, but he seems nice and he always rushes any pathology results when I really need them.”

Daisy laughed. “I wonder why,” she said smiling as she tilted the cup up to her mouth again. “I notice that you’re not mentioning Mario in all of this.”

“Mario and I are…just fine. Why are you so concerned with all of this?” Asked Peach.

“You’re so happy,” Daisy said. “I mean I want you to be happy.” She took another big gulp of coffee. “But you’re happier every time I see you.”

“Did you ever think that maybe I just loved work?” Asked Peach.

Daisy shrugged, her blue eyes fixated down on her cup. “It smells bad here, like all of the time and people…people die,” she whispered the last part.

A little chuckle escaped Peach, she was sure it was not out of crassness, but other than that couldn’t tell where it came from. “The work is very hard. Occasionally I lose a patient or I have a really bad day, but my day is never as bad as the ones these people and their families are going through. And more often than not I get to make sure their day gets better…and that they have more days at all.”

Daisy eyed her for a long enough time that she was able to take several more sips of coffee. “You’re hiding something. I’m just here to let you know Peaches, I’ve known you too long for you to outsmart me for long. Im going to go find my man, you want the rest of this?” Daisy held her coffee cup down to show Peach the bit of dark coffee sloshing around at the bottom.

Peach shook her head. “Can’t drink—I need to be alert; I could use some food. It’s been hours since I’ve eaten anything.”

“I’d love to grab lunch with you, but we’d have to—“

Peach cut her off. “—no, you’re here to see Luigi. I’ll be fine,” Peach said.

“Are you sure?” Asked Daisy as she tossed her cup and the remainder of the coffee and liquor mix into the trash.

With a little smirk plastered on her face, Peach nodded.

Daisy closed the gap between them and reached out to touch Peach’s forehead, her thumb brushing back the flyaway bangs that were too short to make it into Peach’s haphazard bun. Daisy swept a blonde tendril of hair back behind Peach’s ear. “Take care of yourself, okay?”

“I will,” said Peach.

Daisy bent down and kissed her on the cheek. “See you later, love.”

She was careful to close the patient’s door before starting up, but the entire time Peach kept eye contact with Lemmy. He was one of the newer nurses in this part of the hospital, but he had worked in other places supposedly. She really didn’t know him that well, he hadn’t been around long enough. Peach knew she had to nip this in the bud.

“Why am I seeing that you held my patient down and started a Phenytoin drip?” Peach asked.

Lemmy was an odd looking man, even for a Koopa. He had rainbow colored, dyed hair and his eyes were a little crossed. His arms seemed too long for his body, like he had to bend them awkwardly when he scratched the back of his head. “It’s one of the most common anti-seizure medications.”

“Maybe sixty years ago. It’s never a first choice now and an IV is inadvisable due to the risk of cardiac or local toxicity.” Peach kept her tone even. She didn’t make it a habit of laying into nurses and other hospital staff, but this whole situation rubbed her the wrong way.

“I made the call I thought was best and look, the patient is getting better.”

“They’re getting better because you got lucky. We don’t hope for our luck to hold out in a place like this because when it doesn’t people die. We do our due diligence to make sure that we don’t end up staring down the barrel of a malpractice law suit or, worse, having to tell a family there’s nothing more we could do,” Peach said.

“No disrespect, but you’re being hysterical, Dr. Toadstool,” he said.

Peach brushed the hair out of her face and glanced around to see if the inevitable attention of nearby staff had found them. She pushed her lanyard and stethoscope aside to reveal her identification badge. “Can you read that word right there under my name?”

Lemmy glared down at the badge and then back up at her. He knew what it said before he read it, but had looked anyway. “Neurologist.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought it said too, but I wanted to get your opinion since you’re such an expert.” Peach fumbled with the door charts. “Look, you’ve obviously been at this long enough that you feel you know better than everyone even though I spent more time doing my residency than you’ve been doing this job. Do what you want. And when someone has adverse effects I’ll treat them. When they code I’ll do my best to bring them back, but remember someone won’t always be there to pick up your slack.”

Peach tossed the clipboard back into the slot in the door and trotted off down the hallway, unsure of where she was going. She knew that others would be staring at her now, she had raised her voice just a tiny bit, but she had been here too long and there was no excuse for how that nurse was talking to her, especially not after that.

She thought it might be best to end her day here. Maybe this was the end of her rope; she had been burning the candle at both ends for some time now and the more exhausted she was the more dangerous it became for anyone placed in her care.

One of the break room doors was down the hall was open and she heard the sound of Daisy’s voice before she could even see what was going on inside. She didn’t feel like stopping, but she spotted Daisy and Luigi curled up on the couch together watching the TV, he must have been off. It wasn’t unusual for him to hang around the hospital when he was done.

Peach passed by, heading into the wing opposite her own. As she passed through a set of double doors and the cold air of the next hall washed over her she spotted a familiar face coming her way.

The mustached doctor and Luigi’s brother, Mario. He smiled as he noticed her, but stopped a little ways down the hall in front of the elevator. She strolled up to meet him. “Dr. Toadstool,” he said.

She gave a little nod of acknowledgment. “Dr. Mario.”

“Where are you headed?” He asked.

“Um, this elevator. I think I’m ending shift I’m on,” she said.

“Must be a Hell of a shift, weren’t you starting when I left yesterday?” Mario asked.

Peach chuckled. “It’s possible, my days are kind of blending together,” she said. Then she leaned down and pressed the button on the elevator. “One of us should probably press this.”

“You’re going up?” Mario asked.

Peach glanced up and down the hallway. “Yeah. I mean, you were. We’re having a conversation, so I’m going with you.”

“I mean we were but…” he trailed off. “Your drug rep buddy stopped by my office today.”

“Oh no.”

“Don’t worry, she was mostly cordial.”

The silvery doors of the elevator opened and a soft robotic voice spoke. “Floor three, going up.”

Peach followed Mario into the elevator and when the door shut he asked. “Did you tell her about us?”

“No.”

“Really?” Mario grazed the side of her leg, just below her skirt and her skin went tight and hot. “Why not?” He asked.

She crouched down to his level, resting her back against the metallic elevator wall. Peach clenched his wrist, holding it up and pressed her body to his, their lips almost missing each others in the collision, and his hand trapped between them.

Peach grabbed his necktie, through the top of his coat to pull him closer. He groaned, the sound coming from somewhere in his throat or upper chest. His mustache scratched at her upper lip, but his mouth seemed softer than she remembered each time they did this.

The ride to the tenth floor and Mario’s office was never long enough for anything too exciting, but it still left her in a hazy stupor. When the doors opened the stumbled out of the elevator with hands linked, giggling like school children until they made it to the door of Mario’s private practice.

Mario struggled getting the key into the door and turning it, the lights in the office clicked on automatically when they stepped into the waiting room. The walls were lined with chairs except for the spots where a decorative plant or magazine rack was. Below some of the chairs were baskets with toys for the children. The area seemed much larger at night when no one was there.

“Mind if I take some time to wash my hands?” Peach asked.

Mario shook his head. “Course not.”

Peach slipped the coat down over her shoulders to reveal the plain white button down blouse she wore under it, she tossed the lab coat over a chair and headed for the restroom. Even before she started to wash her hands and the moment the door was closed behind her, the sink was running. The dark sacks of skin puffed up beneath her eyes in the mirror were the true sign that she had reached her limit for the day, she probably had some hours ago.

She rinsed her hands in the warm water, adding soap, and then rinsing them again. Peach splashed some of the water up into her face and dried it off with one of the beige paper towels from the automatic dispenser.

Her gaze met her reflection’s in the mirror. “Mario and I will get there soon, but today’s not the day. Best not to rush these things.” Every secret date and little meet up they managed, this was her mantra. Mario was going to be there, he wasn’t going anywhere and she didn’t see a reason to push things too fast with him. There was a lot of emotion tied up with that part of a relationship. It all seemed like a seriousness that she didn’t want at the moment.

For all of Daisy’s talk of Luigi, things were easier for her just by virtue of being a drug rep. She wasn’t chained to the same building as Luigi, constantly worrying about how every little interaction with him went. She had prep time!

Not that Daisy worried about anything like that—she seemed to drift through life on extremely fortunate luck.

With a small sigh, Peach undid the top button of her blouse and, using a paper towel, turned the knob to open the door. Mario had left the waiting room, but she knew where he would go. She made her way through the hall where his smaller examination rooms were until she reached his office. The first thing that she noticed every time she entered this room was the view, it was overlooking New Donk Medical Plaza, but in the distance was midtown and city hall sparkling like constellation.

Mario was perched on top of his desk with the dull purple of the city lights filtering through the window at his back. It was enough that Peach could make out his eyes, it was enough that she could see in his face what he wanted her to do. She pressed herself into the apex formed by Mario’s legs until the hollow sound made by her knees bumping the desk echoed through the room.

They both had to stifle their laughter, but it was that awkward kind of chortle that snowballed into a more infectious, out of control laugh. The electricity between them had been stretched so taut that Peach heard all of these sounds that weren’t there. At least them laughing covered that up.

The chuckling tapered off until they were standing there staring into each other’s eyes. Peach rested her hands on Mario’s legs, just above his knees. He lifted her chin, stroking the side of her face with his thumb and kissed her cheek. “Do we want to stay here or go somewhere else?”

“We just got here,” Peach said in a very small voice.

His lips brushed against her ear, his mustache ticking the side of her face and catching at the stray tendrils of hair. “But you didn’t eat today, did you?”

How did he know? “No,” Peach said out of breath. “It’s no big deal, I was going to pick something up on the way home.”

“We could pick something up together.” Mario pressed his face into the nape of her neck, sucking at the skin just where her shoulder began to curve up. He fumbled through heir hair, undoing the ribbon that held it up.

“We could.” Her body responded by curling to the side, resting her weight against Mario’s leg as she let out a little gasp.

“It wouldn’t take long.” The words were spoken against her neck, barely audible, but she vibrations of each syllable across her skin was like lightning. “We’ll just—“

Peach spun, locking her lips to his forcefully and pushing her tongue into his mouth. Their chins jabbed at each other as they rocked together against the desk. He groaned so low and so deep that it felt like it was coming from within her. She moved her fingers back through his dark hair, the bits at the front were damp from where he had probably splashed water in his face the way she did.

It didn’t occur to her that her eyes were shut for a while, that they had closed themselves out of habit and all of her senses seemed to meld in to cover the gap. She could smell the dying embers of his cologne, something strong and astringent with a citrus hint. There was a smell just peeking through that one, like an iceberg out of the ocean, it was the smell of clean sweat and just him. His mouth tasted slightly sour, in the natural way anyone’s probably did after being in this place all day. She didn’t mind because it was Mario.

“I had a really, really awful day,” Peach said, pushing her hand into his chest to separate them. Behind him, the sky outside the window had changed. It seemed cloudier, buzzing with a kind of static.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Mario asked.

“Not really,” she said. “Come here.”

Across from the office from his desk, set against the wall was a small couch. Peach slipped out of her shoes before folding her legs onto the couch, so that she was sitting on them with her butt rested on her calves. Mario trailed behind sluggishly, pausing before the leather couch when she moved to pat the spot next to her.

“Are you sure?” Mario asked.

Peach leaned out, grabbing his hand and pulling it into her lap. “If you want me to be.”

“I want you to be sure for you—we had that talk before and—“

“And we decided that when the time was right we would know, but let’s be realistic: you want me, right?” She asked.

Mario’s eyes zigzagged along her body tracing a line from her toes, around the bend in her knee and all the way up to her face. “How could I say no, Peach, I—“

Her foot brushing the side of his leg stopped his words, his eyes widened and then Peach was unbuttoning her blouse, slowly revealing a flimsy pink tank top she wore underneath it. Mario watched, his heart beating so loud that she could hear it, could feel it where his hand rested in her lap.

Mario clambered up onto the couch and crawling over her, his hands sunk into the couch on either side of her waist. Her mouth rose to meet his helplessly and Mario’s lips responded by pushing her head against the arm rest, smashing her hair into a knot behind her head.

That little cautious voice in her head was in a veritable screaming panic, but the thundering of her heart and the soft moans drowned out any want she had to stop herself. Peach wasn’t above just going for it and this was a calculated risk.

A flash of light filled the room followed by the tremendous rumble of thunder. Peach caught Mario’s chest with both hands, her nails tracing little lines over his smooth skin. Around and between his nipples. “It would be dangerous for me to drive in this weather—I didn’t even bring an umbrella,” she lied. She always had an umbrella. Any reason to stay like this.

“I guess we’ll just have to stay here.” Peach rocked forward resting her butt on the leather sofa just in front of Mario’s crotch. Her hands trembled with anticipation causing her to fumble with his belt, managing to free the clasp from the puncture holes that held it after a few attempts.

Mario was rigid beneath his slacks, she could feel him when her arm brushed against the bulge beneath the fabric. He twitched sending a positively seismic shiver through her very being. Peach reached through the v-shaped crevice of his unfastened slacks and under the waist band of his boxers to grab his cock. He let out a stuttering sigh and arched his back, pumping against her grasp involuntarily. His skin was so warm and smooth and he glided through her palm.

Peach laughed, biting down softly on her lip and then glancing into Mario’s big blue eyes. “Is this okay?” She said in a voice that was barely a whisper.

“Yeah,” he moaned.

“Yeah,” she repeated. “Are my hands too cold?”

Mario shook his head.

A dopey grin stretched over Peach’s face. She pulled his cock up over the waistband of his pants. He was engorged, the skin being stretched so taut had smoothed any wrinkles there might have normally been. It wasn’t like she was some kind of cock connoisseur most of her experience with them recently had been related to her work. Feeling one in this context without latex to separate skin from skin and with it heavy and erect was caused her to think things she’d usually gripe at Daisy about saying.

Peach looked down at it, running her thumb along the gentle, rounded rise of the crown of his cock at an excruciatingly sluggish pace. Mario nails raked at the leather couch when she finally reached the ventral side where a little divot that marked the beginning of the frenulum led her thumb up to the hole in his penis. Mario sucked on his teeth, wincing at the sensation.

“Does it hurt?” She asked.

Mario shook his head.

She thought the better of blowing him. It had been a long time and she was tired. Probably tired enough that she wasn’t thinking clearly, but more so she had been at the hospital over a dozen hours. If she went down on him and he felt compelled to do the same for her—no it was best to keep things simple.

Peach’s hand grazed his face, the stubby hairs dotting his face catch at her skin as she makes small circles around his chin. “So…”

He leaned in to press his lips to her neck. The air conditioner for the area of the building kicks in with a thunderous hum that seems to shake the sofa and drum through their bodies. Everything is so secluded, cut off. They’re in a building with hundreds, maybe thousands of people, but they’re alone.

The second that his fingers touch the inside of her thigh every rational part of Peach is gone. Even with all of the room afforded to them, they stay confined to the couch, fumbling to stay in contact, never not kissing for more than a few moments while trying to strip to the minimally required clothes.

He got her underwear down and she could feel the damp fabric move past her leg. Peach moved to mount him, straddling and pushing him back into the couch. Her pressed against his upper chest, almost in his face. Mario pushed his way inside of her slowly, rising up to meet her body halfway. Peach grunted, her eyes shut against the sensation, but she after a second she began to rock her hips against him.

There was a warm satisfaction in the way that they were grinding together. Why did she wait so long to do this? They rocked together on the couch while the lightning outside erupted into a full fit that lit the darkened room for full seconds at a time. Thunder undercut her soft moans, his desperate grunts.

Mario mouthed something against her ear, and though she couldn’t hear him just the brushing of his lips on her ear exhale her answer, a breathy, “yes.”

He gripped her hips tighter, pulling her down hard onto him as if trying to get every inch of himself to go into her. His breath caught and his teeth nipped at her ear. Peach felt the hot explosion inside as Mario came.

Peach clenched her thighs around him and turned her head against the back of the couch, biting at the leather to muffle her little moans. She hadn’t actually quite come, which was normal. She didn’t typically cum without a lot of lead up or something other than vaginal sex, at the very least.

But then it seemed Mario wasn’t done with her.

He moved from between her legs, leaning against the couch with his left arm and then tugged her upright with him and spinning her so that she was pressing her bare back into his chest. She let out a sharp yelp as his lips touched her neck.

“I’m fine, I’m fine, don’t worry,” Peach said, holding up a hand as if to steady herself.

Mario wrapped an arm around her thigh, bunching her skirt into knots between her legs and began press against the folds of skin between her legs. Peach’s body jerked forward when he brushed the fabric against her clit. Air caught in her throat as she went to make a sound but was cut short by the surprising intensity of the sensations. He mimicked the motion that had gotten the reaction out of her, massaging with a little more pressure now and pushing the cloth of her skirt against the sensitive area.

He steadied her with his other hand, pulling her back to his chest and cupping her breast.

She tried to encourage what was happening, but the only word she could get out was his name. Something warm and wet and slow dripped down the inside of her thigh. In the kind of brief moment of clarity that can only be recognized in distant hindsight, she thought about what had happened: I let him cum inside me?

That was her last true bit of her self-awareness before Mario’s fingers, wrapped in the textured fabric of her skirt, caused her to melt into him. She was reduced to a moaning mess of jerky hip rocking mixed with sharp yelps.

Despite the embarrassingly small size of the styrofoam cup, Peach still held it with both hands as she swiveled it beneath her nose to take in the aroma. Mario definitely bought better coffee than they had back on her floor. She could tell by the heat against her cheeks that it was still much too hot to drink.

She stared out over the misty morning skyline of New Donk through the huge window in Mario’s office. They slept, naked and bundled up in their discarded clothes on the old leather across from his desk. The blinds had been up and the sun’s light burned across the room into their eyes at its very first chance. What was she thinking? In all her years she had never had sex with anyone from work, especially not at work.

Actually, she hadn’t had sex since she worked here. The length of time since her last relationship slowly dawned on her. Still, things with Mario came so naturally. Through months of courtship leading up to this her heart continued to flutter when he first spoke to her. It had happened when they woke up together.

The door to the office opened and Peach spun around, frightened that they hadn’t locked it and it was some parent and their child coming early seeking medical help, but Mario stepped in with plastic grocery bag dangling from one hand.

“You got them?”

“Yeah. The lock on your locker is a little finicky,” he smiled. “And don’t worry, no one saw me.”

“I would only worry if Daisy was still snooping around,” Peach said before finally taking a drink of her coffee.

He handed her the bag and Peach placed her cup on his desk to open it. She stared down at the bottom to see the fresh pair of scrub pants folded neatly. “Thank you. Pretty sure my skirt can just go in the trash now,” Peach said moving to wrap one arm around him. “Um, sorry about your couch—it must be pretty old.”

“Are you kidding, it’s a leather couch in a pediatricians office, it’s seen some shit. I’ll get some leather wipes and it’ll be fine,” he said. “It was actually already here when I moved into the office.”

“Oh,” Peach said putting a shocked hand to her face. “Maybe I shouldn’t have put my mouth on that…”

They both froze before bursting into boisterous laughter that last far too long for what wasn’t even meant to be funny.

“What did you decide to put back on?” Mario asked. “Are you just wearing the coat?”

“No,” Peach said pulling the lab coat open so he could see. “I’m just wearing the blouse beneath the coat and…yeah the coat.”

He hugged her around the waist. “Has anyone ever told you how sexy you are standing around in just a blouse and lab coat?”

“If you say so…” Peach giggled. “But…don’t start that now, you’ve got appointments—and—and a secretary coming in a half hour. How do you think Shokora will feel about me being in here with my naught bits all exposed?”

“So you have to go?” Mario asked.

“Yes. I need to nap and shower and try to salvage this skirt too.”

While Peach changed into the scrub pants and finished her coffee they chatted some more about mundane things. When it came time for her to go she was insistent that she walk alone.

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay walking down to the car yourself?” Mario asked.

“Yes. I usually do it at night. Plus it would ignite rumors.”

He still walked her as far as the elevator, stopping to lean against the doors to hold them open, he checked both ways down the hall before leaning in to kiss her. “Goodbye, Doctor Toadstool.

“Bye, Doctor Mario,” she kissed him on the lips and he stepped back letting the doors close between them.

The moment she was out of sight, Peach jumped up and down with her hands balled into tight little fists at her sides. She wanted to scream or dance, maybe even while screaming, but the elevator dinged and came to a stop for an old woman in a wheel chair to roll in. She nodded at Peach, but said nothing on their ride to the sub level.

The parking garage was bustling with people, more than she was used to seeing. This wasn’t a time when she normally arrived at or left the hospital, which turned out to be lucky for her because most of these people wouldn’t really know her. She opened the back door of her car, throwing the bag of clothes she’d brought down onto the floorboards.

“Peaches!?”

Oh no.

“Peaches? I know goddamn well you hear me. Is that your cute ass in those awful scrubs?” Daisy rushed over and hugged her, pressing her against the side of the car roughly.

“Hey Daisy.” Peach folded her arms around her body to keep the lab coat closed.

“Hey to you too. Since when do you work in the mornings. I mean are you just getting here or…wait what’s that smell?”

“There’s a lot of cars around. It could be a gas or something, you should go tell the guard.”

“No, it smells like sweaty leather and sex,” Daisy said. She sniffed the air, leaning in close to Peach. Peach leaned back in return. “Why do you smell like you’ve been having sex?”

Peach tightened her arms around herself, averting her eyes from Daisy’s gaze, until the phrama-rep reached out and poked her in the sides, just below the ribcage. She used to do this all of the time when they were in school. It was a surefire way to tickle Peach quickly and make her loosen up. The moment Peach’s arms jerked away, Daisy threw open her lab coat and gasped.

“Same shirt, shitty old scrubs! You and Mario?” Daisy asked before twirling in a quick circle like an excited puppy. “You and Mario!”

“This is why I didn’t tell you things had been…progressing,” Peach said.

“That’s not fair. I tell you about all the weird shit I get up to,” Daisy said.

“Yeah, you tell me too much, honestly.”

“Well now you’re going to spill it. We are going for breakfast cocktails right now and you’re going to spill it,” Daisy said latching on to Peach’s arm and closing her car door.

“It’s like seven in the morning and I have to get home,” Peach protested. “Don’t you have to work?”

“Oh please, I’m one of the top sales reps in the country, I make my own hours. Now come on, I know a bar that makes a mean omelette.”

[adrenaline-roulette]

Four Eighths

Pairing: Four x Eight (Reader)  Word count: 7k+ Warnings: Language, angst, minor original character death, grief, mentions of illness and treatments, stress, breakdown, drinking, drunk, stealing, Four is redeemed! *Disclaimer, here we are, the first briefing  for who the Ghosts new target will be! This chapter is dark, I’ll warn you now, and I would dare say the next few chapters will be angsty too! Though if you’re all very well behaved, then maybe we’ll start getting some fluff and maybe a bit extra going on between Four and Eight.... Read Chapters One, Two, Three and Four first (Or don’t? I can’t make you do anything, after all I’m just text...) 

Chapter Five: I need a Doctor

“I am the fairy king! Bow to me or you shall die!”

You stare up at the shouting blonde stood atop One’s trailer, the fairy lights you had purchased weeks earlier were now coiled around his body, now no longer producing the beautiful glow they once had. Up until a few minutes ago, the lights had been plugged in and twinkling away merrily, that was until Four had somehow gotten himself tangled up in them. He then decided that the shining bulbs suited his alter ego of ‘Fairy King’ quite nicely and had proceeded to race around base with them on, only pausing for a few moments when he realised, they no longer lit up.

The rest of the team were either asleep, or trying to sleep, you knew for a fact that One was in the latter category, as he had screamed at the top of his lungs “Stop fucking tap dancing on my roof!” The moment Four had begun parading around on the trailer.

You want to tell him to stop, but considering you were the reason he was so highly intoxicated right now, and that you were only one or two drinks away from being on his level of drunk, you find that it really isn’t your place to tell him off. “Oh, powerful fairy king!” You call out, lowering your torso in a sloppy bow, keeping your head tilted up so you can watch Four closely. He was teetering on falling over, which if it weren’t for how close he currently was to the edge of the trailer, then you wouldn’t think anything of it. “Your majesty, perhaps we should move this conversation to more sturdy ground?”

Four wobbles on unsteady legs, his face growing pale as he backs away from the edge of the trailer. For someone who spent most of his time jumping from skyscraper to skyscraper, it was rather comical to see him afraid of what would only be a short drop. “That is an excellent idea my loyal subject, now help me down please!”

You’re not exactly sure how you’re supposed to help Four down, but it likely shouldn’t have gone this way. Skipping over to the bus, a half bottle of Jack Daniel’s sloshing away in your hand, you pause just beneath Four, waving up at him with a cheesy grin, before extending your arms in front of you, with the plan of catching him. Without even so much as a pause, Four leaps off the trailer and into your waiting arms. Anyone who wasn’t currently shitfaced would’ve seen that this was a terrible plan, and that it wouldn’t end the way you both expected. However, being shitfaced as you were, it took you more than a few seconds to comprehend what had happened. One moment you were standing upright, and the next, your entire body had been slammed into the ground bellow, a heavy weight pressing against your front. “Ugh, fuck…” You groan, blinking bleary eyes down at the mass that was slowly crushing you.

Four looks up at you, a lopsided grin brightening up his entire face. “ ‘As anyone ever told you that you’re very comfortable?” He mumbles, speech slurred and slow.

“Can’t say that they have.”

“Well, you are.”

Four lowers his head down, cheek resting against your chest as his eyes flutter closed. You want to protest; this man was five foot eight and made of pure muscle! Yet your aching body began to relax, as you heard tiny snores escape the Brit. As you allowed yourself to drift off, ignoring how you were sleeping on the ground, your mind started to wonder. ‘How had this man, who you had shared no more than five consecutive words with at one time, gone from being the person you avoided at all costs, and now to the person you got piss drunk with, and allowed to fall asleep on you?’

*****

“Briefing room, five minutes!” Seven called behind your closed trailer door, not bothering to knock, knowing full well his voice could be heard clearly through the thin metal that was your trailer. You’d just finished your morning routine of; wake up, drink coffee, go for a run, drink more coffee while you updated yourself on the happenings of the world on your laptop, eat breakfast, have a ten minute internal battle over whether you should go back to bed or not, in that time drink a third cup of coffee, ignore Five’s suggestion of perhaps not ingesting so much caffeine, shower, then return to your trailer while your hair dried and go through the building blueprints One had sent you.

Slowly, you stood up from your bed, stretching your arms above your head after having sat hunched over for too long. You close your laptop, then set about searching for a sweater to throw on over the top of your shirt. Outside, the base was stifling hot, yet for some reason, the briefing room was perpetually freezing. One always insisted on turning on every single fan in the shipping container, and it was just too much! After the third team meeting there, you had vowed never to return without a sweater. Finally, you found the one you were looking for, dark gray with a red #mood splattered across the chest. The sweater itself was perhaps one or two sizes too large, but it was warm and snuggly.

You made your way towards the briefing room, slipping the sweater over your head when you were halfway there. As you pull the material down your torso, you fail to realise that you’d put the garment on backwards, coming to an abrupt halt when you notice that the hood was over your head, completely obscuring your face. Behind you, Four silently leaps from the roof of a shipping container, walking up behind you as you struggle to readjust the sweater. “Oh yeah, you should wear all your clothes like that. Prove to everyone that you’re as stupid as your role in the team is.” He snarls, pushing past you, knocking his side against your shoulder.

You can feel your eyes roll, trailing behind Four as you both head towards the meeting “You know, at first it was kinda intimidating, the whole, ‘you don’t belong here’ schtick. But really, now it’s just sad. You don’t have to feel threatened by me, Luke never felt threatened when he discovered Leia could use the force too! As a Skywalker, you should know better than to allow your emotions to cloud your judgement.” There’s a grin clawing at your lips, which you no longer bother to hide, picking up speed and walking past the scowling blonde. If you had looked back you would’ve seen Four raise his eyebrows in surprise, not having expected you to talk back. Quietly, he was actually rather impressed that you had, even if in doing so you had continued with the Star Wars trend.

*****

“Doctor Genevieve Lushnick, for twenty years she has worked as a general practitioner in a family owned GP clinic, and if she has it her way, will continue doing so until retirement. However, over time, her remedies have become more extreme. She stopped prescribing antibiotics to help fight infections, and instead would recommend her patients undergo unnecessary surgeries.” One begins, displaying images of the Doctor on the screen at the front of the room. Just the sound of her name makes you sick to your stomach, a sweat breaking out on your forehead, though no one seems to notice.

“This is Doctor Gregory Lushnick, Genevieve’s husband. He, is the surgeon who has been performing the procedures, along with a well-paid, and unethical team of doctors and nurses. Genevieve will suggest the surgery, telling the patient that it is a matter of life and death, she will then refer them on to Gregory, who will of course agree with her course of action. The patient, who at this point has been warned if they aren’t operated on soon, they will die, will pay an exuberant fee, any amount the Lushnick’s request, which they then pocket for themselves.”

Three lifts his brows at the information they had all been presented with. “How have they gotten away with this? Surely they’ve had patients who know at least a little bit about general health, who know if a procedure they’ve been recommended is necessary or not?”

One nods, folding his arms across his chest while gazing out over his team, all with an equal expression of shock and disgust. Except for you, who looks on the verge of tears. “That actually happened a few times. A Doctor went and visited Genevieve after hearing about the outrageous number of procedures she had recommended. He went in complaining of an ingrown toenail that had become infected, which he did in fact have at the time, but was treating it himself. Genevieve took one look at it, and informed him that the infection was too far gone, and if they didn’t remove his toe urgently, the infection would likely spread, and perhaps enter his blood stream. He asked for some further testing to ensure Genevieve was correct, to which she obliged, and sent him to pathology to have blood taken.”

“Yeah, but if he got blood tests then that’s it right? Game over? The tests would prove that there’s nothing wrong with ‘im.” Four interjects, leaning his hip against the edge of the table everyone was stood around, taking care to watch you from his peripherals.

“In a normal situation, then yes, you’d be correct. But this isn’t normal, nothing about the Lushnick’s is normal. The test results came back in, and of course, they read perfectly, no deadly infection obviously. But the convenient thing about living in the modern age we do, is that all test results are sent through electronically. All Genevieve had to do, was edit the results, and suddenly, her patient was suffering any ailment she wished! When she presented the results to him, and he played along, saying he would organise the procedure shortly. Instead, he went to the Minister of Health, and presented his findings. The Lushnick’s found out who he was, and what was happening and fled the country. No one knows where they went, so they escaped punishment.”

“Alright, so they fucked off somewhere else, but they’re not hurting anyone, anymore right? So how does this affect us?” Seven shrugged, One’s eyes boring into his.

“I know exactly where the Lushnick’s are. They’ve been performing their surgeries in secret for a few years now, but they’ve moved on to more desperate patients, and are providing more extreme remedies. Rather than patients finding her, Genevieve is seeking out her own patients, the one’s who are unable to afford a visit to the Doctor’s surgery. She’ll play nice, offer them a free consult to ensure they’re all healthy, then she’ll drop the health bomb on them. These people are so afraid, that they will believe anything Genevieve tells them, and will do anything to get the money needed for their life saving surgery.”

Your hand grips the back of a chair, while your other presses flat against the wall nearest you. Your head is swimming, memories flooding back to you in a tidal wave. Heart racing so fast you think it’s about to explode, all the while sweat drips from your skin. No one notices, no one cares. They all have questions that need answering.

Four notices though, how could he not? For weeks now, he had done nothing but watch you closely, always checking to make sure you were safe, and not putting yourself in any unnecessary danger. If you were going to stay with the team, and it looked as if you were, then he would keep an eye on you from a distance. He may not be your friend, but that didn’t mean he cared any less, not really.

“What kind of surgeries are they doing now?” Five asks, her hands resting on her hips.

“Similar to what they used to suggest, only now more extreme because they have a more desperate clientele. From what I could find, the most chilling was what she and Greg did to a fifteen year old boy. He was complaining of shortness of breath, and if he had been seen by any other Doctor, he would’ve been diagnosed with mild asthma, and given an inhaler to use. But Genevieve instead informed him and his father that he had a potentially life-threatening lung infection.” One pauses, a frown creasing his features as he looks over at you, your skin having grown pale and your eyes unfocused, you looked about ready to collapse. He pulls he gaze away for a moment to finish, though his eyes continue to dart back over to you. “The boy underwent surgery to have an entire lung removed. His father paid nearly twenty thousand for his son to have the surgery. Two weeks after the procedure, the boy died.”

A chocked sob rips from your lips, causing everyone to focus on you, six pairs of eyes staring you down. They all either thought you were crazy, or just overly emotional over the death of a kid you didn’t know. How could they know the truth, it’s not as if you had ever told anyone? “Eight? Are you alright?” Five asks slowly, reaching a hand towards you just as you step backwards.

“Hey, sit down for a second kid…” Three offers, gesturing to the chair you had just released from your vice like grip.

“It’s the sweater, she’s probably just over heated.” Four shrugs, though even with his air of indifference, his eyes are clouded with worry.

Another sob followed by your nose sniffling. Were you crying? When had that started? You bring one hand up to your face, your fingers shaking the entire time, until they press against your cheeks, only to pull away a second later damp with tears. Lips are moving, but you don’t hear any of the words that are spoken, there’s a ringing in your ears which is too loud to ignore, and it drowns out everything other than your internal voice. The expressions the Ghosts wore changed from that of curiosity and caution, to full blown panic now as it dawned on them, that you truly weren’t alright. Just as One walks over to you, you spin on your heel, racing away from him and the team. You’re vaguely aware of people calling out after you, but you don’t turn back.

You throw yourself into the gray McLaren which had unofficially become your car, after the driving display you had given a few weeks ago. The engine revs as you try to clear your mind enough to decide on where you were going. Should you be driving in the state you were now? Probably not. Were you going to anyway? Definitely. Were you more than willing to run over Four who now stood between you and the exit you wanted to take? Without a doubt. Pressing the tab on the door, the window lowers at what felt like a comically slow rate.

Four had sprinted after you the moment you left, and was now trying to decide what his next move should be. Behind the car, he could see the others grouped together, all unsure of what to do, just like him. “Either get in the fucking car or move. You have ten seconds or I’m driving through you!” You bark out of the window, providing him with the motivation required for him to spring into action.

The passenger door slams shut, with Four diving in just milliseconds before you slam on the gas, the car fishtailing for a moment, before flying through base. Four stares dead ahead, his mouth slightly agape, while you glare at the road, hands gripping the steering wheel so tight your knuckles had turned white. When you had given Four his options just before, you had never expected him to pick the first, and from the looks of things, neither had he.

 Silence fills the speeding car for twenty odd minutes, your eyes locked on the road ahead, while Four was staring out the passenger window, his elbow propped up on the centre console,  while his other hand was resting with his fingers pressed to his lips. You felt as if you were being strangled in the silence, but neither of you were prepared to break it, both too stubborn to admit defeat, and voice your curiosity. Reaching one hand out, your hover above the power button for the stereo, taking your eyes off the road for just a second.

Oh, how things can change in one second.

The car had been travelling in an undisturbed straight line down the freeway, though all of that changed in a heartbeat. With your eyes focused elsewhere, you never saw the massive pothole looming ever closer to the McLaren. Just as you look back at the road, your eyes fall to the dip in the road, something that you should’ve avoided at all costs. Your barely functioning brain kicks in at the last minute, and just as one of your front tyre’s dips into the pothole, you spin the steering wheel, attempting to keep your remaining tyres from hitting the hole too. It was too little too late however, and instead of avoiding the pothole, the car spins out, flying off the edge of the road and skidding along the red dirt uncontrollably.  Your shriek is the first sound to pierce the silence the entire drive, and it seems to be what snapped Four out of his shock.

Four reaches out, taking the wheel in one hand, attempting to straighten out the cars path, while his other hand wraps around the handbrake, pulling it up with all his might. The McLaren spins for another few seconds, until coming to a halt, a cloud of dust having been kicked up by the erratic tyres. “Jesus Christ Eight! What the fuck was that about?”

You can’t answer him, your words are choked in your throat, and refuse to budge. You unclip your seatbelt and bolt out of the car, leaving the keys in the ignition as you sprint away from both the car and Four. Why was he here? Out of everyone that could’ve blocked your path and jumped into the car, why did it have to be fucking Four? He didn’t give a shit what was going on with you on a regular day to day basis, so why the hell would he care about this?

Where were you even running to? You were in the middle of nowhere, and all that was around you was desert and the highway. There was nowhere for you to run to. As this realisation hits you, you stop dead in your tracks. Heart pounding in your chest. Clenching your fists at your sides, your drop to your knees in the middle of the desert, titling your head back, and screaming gutturally towards the sky, as fresh tears flow freely down your cheeks now.

*****

Four had never seen someone lose control as you were doing now, he’d seen his fair share of people in pain, screaming and crying over the death of a loved one or because they were in pain. But this, it felt different to him. Watching you collapse to your knees, he felt his chest tighten, and his own breath hitched in his throat. Your scream rumbled through his entire body, and echoed around the empty sky, there was nothing around for miles that would block your screams. He didn’t know what else to do, so he grabbed the keys, pocketed them before jogging over to you.

“Hey… Hey, it’s okay – You’re gonna be okay.” He whispers, kneeling beside you now, wrapping his arms around your shaking torso. He was sure that if it weren’t for the vulnerable position you found yourself in, that you would never return his embrace as you now were. But you did, your arms circling around his neck, as you pressed your face against his shoulder.

“Any other target… It could’ve been anyone else.” You cry out, hot tears splashing against his thin t-shirt. Four tightens his grip around you, slowly lowering himself into a sitting position, and guiding you down with him. You follow him down, and he half expects you to break out of your emotions when he settles you against his lap, though that never happens.

He rubs soothing circles against your back, listening for the sounds of your cries to ease, before he finally asks. “What d’you mean Eight? What’s wrong with the target?”

You shake your head, pressing further into his shoulder, as another body shaking sob overtakes you. Your mind is swimming in horrifying memories, and all you want to do is to claw them out of your brain. You want to forget; you need to forget. “Eight, look at me… Talk to me.”

Four rests his hands on both of your shoulders,  gently guiding you away from him so he could look you in the eyes red rimmed and now puffy, though your tears had slowed at the very least. “Hey – Hi…”

*****

You blink across at Four, sniffling as you attempt to clear your thoughts. Why did he suddenly care what was wrong with you? For weeks now, he barely spoke a word to you, when he did, it was always something snarky or sarcastic. There was never any care for your wellbeing, so where had this all come from? “Hullo… I’m sorry. Please, just forget about that. I’m sorry.”

You move to pull away from Four, but his large hands on your shoulders tighten their grip, and you honestly just don’t have the energy to fight against him. “I’m not going to forget about this. Talk to me Eight, what happened back there?”

“What happened? I lost control of the car, it spun out. Happens to the best of us.” You shrug, opting to play dumb for a little while, just to see how far you would get with doing so.

There’s a fierce glare that settles over Four’s eyes, and you can feel a physical chill run down your spine at the intensity of his gaze.

“Don’t. Don’t you dare do that.”

“Do what?”

“Pretend to be stupid. We both know you’re the furthest from stupid a person could possibly get.” Four breathes out deeply, closing his eyes for a moment, before opening them and reconnecting his sight with yours.

You’re not sure which is more likely to occur first, your heart stopping entirely or for it to literally explode under the amount of stress you’re experiencing right now. “It’s the Lushnick’s. I – I know them. Or at least, I did know them.”

Four stills his movements, where he had been drawing tiny patterns against your shoulders, he no longer seems able to do even that. “What do you mean you know the Lushnick’s?” His voice comes out strangled, and if you didn’t know any better, you would think he was worried about you.

“Doctor Genevieve, the clinic she worked in was local to my family when I was little. When I was around five, I had a babysitter, Kellie, she would look after me every afternoon after school, and some weekends. She would’ve been around seventeen, and at the time was my best friend. I didn’t get along with the kids in my class, so I turned to Kellie, she was always there for me, and I loved her like a sister.” There, that was the easy part to talk about. You could just leave the story there, but really, you know you couldn’t do that. You had given away too much to stop now. “Every afternoon, she would walk me home from school. On the walk, we would pass by the clinic where Doctor Lushnick worked. One afternoon, when we were heading home, Kellie started to feel dizzy, I remember she was struggling to walk, and I was worried. I left her on a bench, and ran to the Doctor’s clinic. The receptionist grabbed the first doctor she could find, Genevieve, and we all ran to Kellie to help her.”

“Fuck Eight, I’m sorry –“

You cut Four off before he can say anymore. “Let me finish. There’s more to tell, and I can’t stop now.” You pause for a moment, waiting to see if he had anything else to say, but clearly he thought better than to speak up again. “Doctor Lushnick performed heaps of tests, I remember she kept sending Kellie for more and more blood tests, x-rays and ultrasounds. Always telling her and her family that the results had come back inconclusive. It must’ve been around two weeks, until Kellie was given her diagnosis. Heart failure. I don’t remember much of what happened after that, there was a lot of adult conversations had that I wasn’t made a part of. What I do know though, is that Genevieve sent Kellie to have a heart transplant. Kellie was terrified, I can still hear her crying, begging her parents not to make her go through with the surgery. Her parents didn’t want her to have it done either, but Genevieve and Gregory made it sound as if it were her only option. They told Kellie and her parents that without the surgery, she would die.”

Tears had returned to your eyes now, and Four pulled you subtly closer to him, not enough so you were embraced as you were before, but enough that you could feel his warmth soaking into you, and hear his steady heartbeat. “Kellie had the surgery, and was recovering relatively well.  She was in the hospital still so the nurses could keep an eye on her while she healed. After school one day, I lied and told my parents I was going to a friend’s house, and that no one needed to pick me up until later. Instead I went to the hospital to visit Kellie. I had gone to see her twice after the surgery, and both times she had seemed alright, at least in my eyes she did. This third time though, when I got to her room, everything was different. She was pale and sweating, her chest heaving as she gasped for breath. There was no one else in the room for me to get, so I pressed the call button from the side of her bed, and in came running nurses and doctors.  No one really explained to me what had happened that day until I was older. And it wasn’t until I was much older, did I realise truly what had happened, and with the information One gave us today, I knew for sure. Kellie was never supposed to have had that surgery, her body underwent unnecessary trauma, which it couldn’t heal from. Doctor Genevieve and Gregory Lushnick murdered my best friend.”

Suddenly, you were pressed against Four’s chest, as your felt tears stream over your cheeks. He held you firmly, his warm embrace was one of comfort and peace, two things you had never associated with the man. “When One was telling us about what they had done to others, I just couldn’t stop the memories from coming back, everything I felt back then, it all came rushing back to me.”

“It’s alright, fuck Eight. I’m sorry, I am so sorry. I wish there was more I could say..”

You gulp, before looking up at him, your eyes scanning over his handsomely chiselled face for the very first time. In the time you had been with the team, not once had you had the opportunity to look at Four up close, and of course this would be your first chance. While sitting on his lap, crying your heart out, as you both grew more covered in dust. “Promise me we’ll make them pay. Promise me that we’ll get them both, and that they won’t get away.”

Four allows a deep breath to flow from his parted lips, the lines on his forehead smoothing as he takes in your words. “I promise you, they won’t make it through this alive.”

*****

Allowing Four to drive you both back to base had likely been one of the best decisions you had made in a long time. Despite the panic and anger which had clouded you before, now faded to a dull shadow, you were still shaky, and your concentration was easily lost. Four driving truly was the safest option, if you both wanted to arrive home in one piece. “Can we stop in town?”

Four glances at you for a moment, retracting his hand which was resting on your knee. The entire drive, you would find Four resting his hand somewhere on your leg. To you, it was grounding and comforting, serving to remind you that you weren’t alone. It let you know that someone else on the team understood your connection to the targets. For Four however, you weren’t sure if he was doing it out of habit, or for comfort too. “Sure, what do you need?”

Turning to look at his side glance, you allow a tiny smile to tug at the corners of your lips. “I desperately need a drink. You’re welcome to join me if you’d like, but I’m sure you’d rather forget that this all happened.” You shrug softly, before turning to look back out of the passenger window.

Four’s eyes grow wide at your comment, and he finds himself at a loss for words. “I- You- What?”

Pressing your forehead against the window, you take a deep breath in, before blowing out through your mouth, fogging the glass up in the process. “I appreciate you following me out here today, I really do. But, let’s be honest, we’re not friends. You hate me. You’ve made that perfectly clear since the day I arrived. So, while I’m happy to extend the invitation of getting piss drunk with me, I’m not expecting you to accept.”

“I don’t.”

“You don’t what?”

“Hate you… I’m sca – Way too sober to have this conversation right now. But put it this way, I don’t hate you.”

Four focuses back on the road, while his words swirl through your mind. ‘Scared? Was he about to say he was scared? Scared of what though? He always seemed so grounded, almost as if nothing could touch him, let alone hurt him…’ On the drive away from base, you hadn’t paid any attention to where you were headed, not really. All you knew at the time, was that you needed to get as far away from everyone as was humanly possible. Which is why it came as a surprise to you when Four pulled into a small town, not the one you had visited with Two and Five a few weeks ago, but an entirely different one which you had never known to exist. “There’s a liquor store just up that side street there.” Four observes, while pointing to the left of the town, where sure enough, there was an opening in the path for the side street.

You nod, climbing out of the car, just as Four lowers his window and the passenger side window. “I’ll be back in a few. Want anything?”

Four shakes his, carding his fingers through is windswept curls. “Thanks, I’m good.” It’s said with such a firm edge to the words, that you know the conversation is over, before it really began.

As you walk down the street, you look back over your shoulder at Four and the McLaren. His wrists are wresting on top of the steering wheel, as he picks at his nails, clearing them of the dirt that had gathered there from earlier. Music was pumping through the speakers, and you could see the car shaking with the intensity of the bass Turning the corner, the liquor store comes into view, a small bell chiming as the door pushes open. A man, likely in his forties or fifties is stood near the cooler section, collapsing empty beer boxes.  Looking at the few shelves that lined the wall nearest the register, you feel a lump rise in your throat. In your haste to leave base, you hadn’t brought anything with you,  no phone, no wallet, no money!

“Can I help you with anything?” The man calls from the opposite side of the store, eyeing you suspiciously.

“Just looking thank you!”

The man squints at you, his eyebrows furrowed. “Hope you’ve got some ID kid…. You don’t look old enough to be buying anything from here…”

Your jaw drops at his words, a scowl marching across your features. How dare he question your age, suggesting you weren’t old enough to drink! You had never been ID’d before now, and now that you were not only dead, and still waiting on One to present you with your fake ID’s. But you didn’t even have your bloody wallet with you, where said fake would be kept, this was the time, of all times where the world decided to turn against you and start questioning your age? “Of course I have ID with me.”

The man watches you for another moment, as if assessing whether he could trust you or not. With a final huff, he bends over and picks up a box of beers, pushing the cooler door open and heading inside to restock the fridge shelves, clearly having decided you were trustworthy. Oh buddy, wrong decision.

Maybe it was because of the shithouse afternoon you had just experienced, or maybe it was because you were sick and tired of people making assumptions about you. No matter the why’s, you found yourself snatching bottles of Jack Daniel’s, Malibu, and salted caramel vodka. Without a second thought, you cradled them against your chest, then bolted for the front door.

“Get back here you thief!” The man screams after you, having re-emerged from the fridge just as the door swung closed behind you.

This was wrong, so fucking wrong! It was one thing to steal money from a stranger’s bank account (Granted that stranger then went on to fake your death, and now was your employer…) Or to work from afar and have people do the dirty work, while you reaped the benefits, they did the snatching and grabbing, you just made sure they didn’t get caught. But this? This was you stealing, with no one else there! This was all you!

Your feet pound against the pavement, the McLaren coming into view just as the store clerk sprints after you. “Open the fucking door Four!” You shriek from the top of your lungs, praying to any deity who may listen that he will hear you over the pumping music.

Despite your thieving tendencies, someone answers your prayer, and Four looks up and over to you through the open passenger window, his eyebrows shooting up into his hair line as he spots you sprinting at full speed towards him, three bottles clutched in your arms, as a pissed man follows close behind. He leans across the centre console, pushing the door open before returning to his seat fully and twisting the key in the ignition. With the sound of the door slamming shut behind you, he throws the car into reverse, getting you both the hell out of town! “What the actual fuck Eight? What did you do?”

You stare down at the three bottles, now laying by your feet, rocking back and forth as the car moves. Laughter bubbles from your chest, and you can’t help the burst of chuckles that rip through you. “I didn’t have any money…”

For a brief moment, you could’ve sworn you saw Four grin, though the look is soon replaced by a sigh. “And you didn’t think to come and ask me if I had any?”

“Do you have money on you?”

“No… But that’s not the point! Your first instinct was to steal what you wanted!”

“Are you seriously telling me off for stealing? Sorry, last I heard, One met you after a robbery gone wrong.”

Four’s grip on the wheel tightens for a few moments, before his knuckles relax somewhat, tension visibly leaving his shoulders. “Now we’ve gotta find a new liquor store.”

*****

Walking through base, you felt everyone’s eyes on you, all boring down on you, as if thinking if they stared long enough then they would understand what had happened to you. There’s a part of you that wants to explain yourself, and to reassure the team that you are in fact, not insane as they may now think. However, before you even have the chance to consider explaining yourself, Four is dragging you by the hand towards your trailer. “If anyone needs us, don’t. Just don’t fucking need us!” He calls out behind you, gripping the bottle of Malibu with such intensity your genuinely worried he might smash the glass.

Four’s warning seemed to have worked, at least for the time being, and you watched as the Ghosts all shuffled away, back to whatever they had been doing before your arrival. One stays out for a few moments longer, arms folded across his chest, and both eyebrows raised in confusion. You can see the questions he’s dying to ask dancing across his eyes, mixed with a look of what could only be described as, understanding. You don’t take the time to dwell on One, as you’re far too preoccupied with Four who had swung your trailer door open, and was pushing you inside and up the steps, his hands pushing against your lower back to keep you moving.

Four followed you up, placing the Malibu on the small table opposite your bed, while you plonked down on the bed, the bottles of Jack and vodka falling to the foot of your mattress. “Right, you stay here as long as you need to. Drink, get smashed, scream, cry. Whatever you wanna do.” His broad shoulders shrug, as he turns away from you, and steps back towards the door, resting both hands in his front pants pockets.

Quickly, you twist off the cap of the vodka, the strong scent of salted caramel filling the air. “The offer still stands. Only this time, I’d like you to join me…”

Four turns on the spot, looking back at you in surprise. “You sure?”

“Yes, I – I want you here with me please.”

There’s no need to ask him a second time, though you would’ve if necessary. Four reaches out and takes the vodka from your outstretched hand, bringing it to his lips and taking a deep swig. Just as you do the same with the Jack. “Cheers to your first mission briefing.” He chuckles, his crystalline eyes sparkling in joy.

You roll your eyes up at him, as you move further back on the bed, leaning your back against the wall. “Let’s try not to make this a tradition yeah?”

“It’s been five seconds, and you already hate drinking with me enough to never want to do it again?”

“That’s not what I meant. The drinking, I’d be willing for the to be a tradition.  The whole, me running away from base thing though? Yeah, let’s not do that again.”

Four nods, his curls swaying under the gesture, before he takes another swig, savouring the sharp after burn the vodka left in the back of his throat.  You crawl up off the bed, and shuffle over to the small, mint green radio that was set up towards the back of the trailer, fiddling with the dials before it decided to pick up something other than static. “I won’t let that happen again… You won’t be hurt like that again.” Four breathes out, though the words are drowned out by the functioning radio.

“Fuck! I love this song!” You squeal, turning the volume up to full, dancing to the blasting music.

“Seriously, Kesha? Out of all the music you could love, it’s this?”

“Don’t be an ass. This is my trailer, and my booze, I can and will kick you out if you’re not careful!”

“It’s stolen booze, so technically, the shop still owns it, not you….”

You don’t really think about your next move, all you know is that one moment you were drinking from the bottle of Jack while dancing and being sassed at by Four, and the next, you had grabbed one of your multiple decorative pillows, and had begun attacking him with it. Four grabbed his own pillow, and retaliated in kind, swatting you left right and centre, all the while attempting to not spill either of your drinks. And thus started the great pillow war of 2020.

*****

You don’t know what time it is, there’s a gentle stream of light washing over you as you carefully peel your eyes open, though a set of curtains over the window make it impossible for you to see anything else, other than the suns rays. Lifting your arms above your head, you stretch your aching body, before finally giving in and opening your eyes fully. It takes far too long for you to realise something was wrong. This was not where you had fallen asleep, quite the opposite actually. You know for a fact you had fallen asleep outside, in the dirt no less, with Four using you as a pillow. Yet somehow, you were now alone, in a strangers bed, inside a strangers trailer….

You sit bolt upright, your stomach instantly churning at your sudden movements, you blanch at the taste of bile as it rises in your throat, swallowing it back down. Slowly, you look around the trailer, finding nothing familiar in the small space. “Four?” It had to be his home… You had been inside everyone else’s trailer, but never his.  With a great deal of care, you pull yourself off the bed, pressing a hand over your eyes for a moment, as you feel a wave of dizziness wash over you. “Four? Hello?”

Looking around, you find no trace of him, or at least nothing that pointed to his whereabouts. You pass by a mirror as you walk towards the door, and you take a moment to assess your reflection. Your hair was knotted, sweaty, and had flecks of dirt tangled in it, there were deep set bags under your eyes, and overall you looked, and felt like death. Though all that combined, you still felt better now, than you had yesterday during the briefing.

You allow the trailer door to swing shut behind you, spotting a determined looking Two, marching across base and headed to the rec room. Was there another meeting this morning? Had you slept through the announcement, and Four couldn’t be bothered to wake you up? There was no time to think over the millions of possibilities as to what had happened, all you know, was that if Two was storming off somewhere, it was likely the best course of action would be to follow her.

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Chapter six out now!

[fan-clan-fun]

I have zero self control

Here I am back at it again with new fanclans!!

I literally spent three hours thinking about this as I helped a friend move to a new apartment, its nice to have something to think about while hauling boxes. 

Anyway! Thanks to the anon who mentioned medievalish clans, I wanted to give another go (kinda) to one of my older ideas for a medieval clan, but it’s kinda turned out different than I intended.

First I determined that I wanted to use a sort of hereditary monarchy sort of thing, although its a bit different, and I wanted these clans to be the ones to finally use my list of deities I came up with forever ago.

My thinking was definitely not linear, so I will attempt to pull a coherent train of thought out of the mess.

The Basics:

There are two clans, Dawnclan and Duskclan, named for where their territory is (Dawnclan to the east, Duskclan to the west) and the order of their formation (Dawn first and Dusk second).  Duskclan was formed after a dispute of leadership caused an almost half and half split in the clan and the disgruntled party left. 

The leadership of the clans is based on a specific concept, that was started back when the clan was first founded. The clans are led by a Monarch and their consort. The Monarch must be close blood (child, sibling, niece/nephew, cousin) to the previous Monarch and descended from the original line of the founding cats (Mother Misty). The Consort does not have to be their mate, nor do they have to love each other, but they serve as a team in guiding the clan. One of the pair is in charge of things outside of camp (hunting, patrolling, etc), while the other is in charge of things inside camp (maintenance, keeping kits occupied and educated, ensuring everyone has the supplies they need, etc). It does not matter which of the pair does this, either monarch or consort may choose either job, but they may not each do the same one. The only other requirement, is that the monarch must provide heirs, either through their body, or if that is not possible through other means of close family. 

Part of the differences between Dawnclan and Duskclan, is that they see who is eligible for this duo differently. Dawnclan could care less if its a cis male/female pairing, or any other under the sun, such as a lesbian or gay or nontraditional pair, so long as they can find a way to have heirs. But Duskclan insists it must be a male/female (can be trans) partnership, as they see it as an issue of balance, as well as the consort must be clan born and bred. This is due to the fact that what broke the original clan in two was that the female monarch took an infertile (spayed) female consort and had no intention of producing kits, expecting their sibling to provide. The soon to be leader of Duskclan took issue with this, and left. 

Dawnclan says that the reason for the split was because the leader of Duskclan was a sore loser, which to some degree he was. Because the way it is decided which of the Monarch’s relatives (with preference towards children, siblings, and nieces/nephews) will become the next monarch, is that those who wish to become monarch must submit to a challenge. Either the potential Heir or their consort (whichever plans to be in charge of outside the camp), will engage in a duel (or tournament if there are enough challengers) to determine the rightful heir. The duels are until first visible blood, a sign that the cat is willing to shed blood for their clan if necessary, and forming a pact in blood between the challengers even if they have lost. So when the leader of Duskclan lost to his sister, he refused to live under her rule, gathered supporters who agreed with him, and left.

Clan Ranks/Culture:

So as I mentioned before, I do want to use the deities I had made before, and as a result, Im fiddling a little with ranks. 

Instead of just Medicine cats, there are two ranks:

Healer: These are your traditional medicine cats, but with the added duties of memorizing clan trees and bloodlines and the basic history of the clans, such as the great events and when they occurred, the wars, etc.

Clerics: These are the cats who take charge of religious teachings, of signs a prophecies, and most religious ceremonies. They are the ones who bestow favor on a new monarch, they are the ones who tell the moral stories of heroes and villains, they are the counselors and support for the cats in their clan. 

Sometimes the duties of both Clerics and Healers intercept, and they have at times been at odds, but they usually resolve their differences. 

There are always at least 2 of each at all times, but its not uncommon for each clan to have 3-4 Healers or Clerics. They cant risk the knowledge being lost, so they take the necessary precautions.

There is also a special rank, known as the Knights.

These are generally 3-4 cats who are known to be the absolute best at what they do. They are considered the Monarch and Consort’s Honor Guard, their personal envoys, their paws, their ears, their voices, etc. Usually each Knight has a distinct set of skills, though they are still well rounded, but their is generally the best fighter, and the other three might be the best tracker, or the most stealthy, or the best hunter, or the most eloquent and diplomatic, etc. Knights often are considered to be very desirable as mates (male or female since knights can be either), and its not uncommon for them to be chosen as consorts by potential heirs (In fact in Duskclan most consorts were Knights at one point). Knights do rotate out over time (or don’t make it to retirement due to being in a position of danger more than anyone else) based on the Monarch’s needs and desires, but they keep the title Champion even after they are no longer a Knight, in honor of their service.

How the clans were originally founded:

So this was just a thought I had, that the clans came originally from a clowder, who’s leader, Misty, accepted and allowed her mate to stay. Most clowders often either have one lead male who will chase away or kill kits or other cats he doesnt like, but Dusty was different. He was still fiercely protective of his mate and kits, but he wasn’t aggressive. Other females felt safe around him. And when his Misty’s kits were born and being raised, her daughter Rain convinced her to give other toms a chance too. So before even a clan was established, before names were being changed, the idea of mentoring and apprenticeships was there. Dusty or some of the other females would mentor kits, and if a male could make it through apprenticeship without showing dangerous aggressive tendencies he was allowed to stay. So soon the clowder had not just one male, but several, and it started to grow.

When Misty finally retired, Rain took over, and she chose her own consort to help lead with her, named Beetle. Then they gathered their group together and named themselves officially as a clan (not Dawnclan, that would come later). Together they decided on rules and regulations (the original code), so that they could begin to interact with outsiders and potentially allow them in. It was a much smaller code than canon, and its main tenants included not harming kits, not being aggressive towards one another unless in defense, and that everything in the clan was shared and that the weakest and most vulnerable should get first choice. Over time it evolved to include more, but that was the very start.

Religion came with the next generation, at Misty’s death, when the old stories of the gods took on a new light. Mothers began teaching their kits about Misty as an incarnation of Mehr, the primal mother deity, the one which most cats had heard of and acknowledged. The other god which was taught was the deity of chaos and death, which was a natural counterpoint to Mehr as the deity of birth and life. The other deities evolved over time as new roles and ranks became important. Some took on more real life energy as certain cats were considered incarnations of them, like Misty had been.

Funnily enough, Dawnclan considers the founder of Duskclan to be the incarnation of Hissao, the betrayer. 

As for medicine.... well Im not sure, this is as far as I got thinking wise, and I just needed to write it down before I forgot so... yeah. If people like this I might write more about it, Im liking what I have so far, and I never could tell myself to stop. 

[thehowlpod]

Episode 1 - Labradorable Transcript

Below is a full transcript of our first full episode. Sources can be found here

Hello, I’m Alaina and welcome to the very first full episode of the howl! 

Our story begins on an island off the eastern coast of canada sometime during the 1600s. You see, the people of Newfoundland had a problem. Fishing was a big deal around these parts, it provided both income and sustenance to a large portion of the population, keeping them fed and enabling them to afford whatever it was people in 15th century canada spent their money on...which is all great. The problem was that Canada is cold and fishing generally takes place in or around the water and assuming dying of hypothermia was not the goal that sounds like a pretty unfortunate mix. While researching this I ran across words like ‘frigid’ and ‘icy slurrys’ and ‘sub-zero’ all of which I want nothing to do with. 

What the fisherman of Newfoundland needed was a helping hand...or as luck would have it...paw. Dogs had always been an integral part of working life since they were first domesticated 20-40 thousand years ago so the concept was far from new. Most, if not all, of these men probably already had a dog or two who came to work with them regularly. The most popular available breeds was probably the most obvious; the newfoundland. Now Ill probably do a whole episode on these giant majestic slobber factories some other time but for now what is important to know is that while these babies were definitely built for the cold, harsh canadian landscape they are not exactly water-friendly. You see the thick, luscious fur that makes up their coat and keeps them nice and toasty on land has a nasty habit of weighing the animal down with freezing water and ice making them sluggish and uncoordinated. The second option was one of a number of smaller local working breeds brought over by settlers from wherever, most of which lacked the size needed for the labor-intensive job or the ability to deal with the wet, freezing conditions. 

How exactly it happened is anyone's guess. Apparently people were too preoccupied with not freezing to death to make a proper record or something. Whether it was a particularly innovative fisherman or a spark shared between a Newfie and an ambitious local working dog over evening scraps is lost to history but either accidental or by design the result was going to change the world forever. 

They were called ‘St. John’s Water Dogs’ or sometimes ‘Lesser Newfoundlands’ and they were like an answer to a prayer. Thick, short black coats that trapped heat but repelled water, with a characteristic white medallion on their chest these dogs quickly became some of the most common on the island. Medium sized but stocky they could easily bring in a fishing net or navigate the waters around a fishing boat with their powerful legs, webbed feet, and rudder-like tail. In addition to their physical prowess their friendly nature and intelligence quickly caught the eye of more than a few visitors.  Joseph Beete Jutes, a british geologist and naturalist, took notice in his book Excursions In and About Newfoundland During the Years 1839 and 1840 Vol. 1,

"These are the most abundant dogs in the country...They are no means handsome, but are generally more intelligent and useful than the others... I observed he once or twice put his foot in the water and paddled it about. This foot was white, and Harvey said he did it to 'toil' or entice the fish. The whole proceeding struck me as remarkable, more especially as they said he had never been taught anything of the kind." 

Now if you have never heard of a breed called the St. John’s water dog there’s probably two reasons for this. First, they don’t exist anymore. They went extinct in the early 1980s largely thanks to a tax meant to encourage sheep herding in the area. It limited the number of dogs a family could have and made owning a canine, particularly a female, to expensive for many locals. 

The second reason is that it isn’t actually a breed. It was never officially recognized by any national kennel club and thus no formal breed standards or records were made. Groups of animals who have been selectively breed but lack formal recognition are called landraces and it’s the selective breeding part that differentiates them from random strays or mutts. This also means that any standard breed or landrace is technically a genetically modified organisms which is fun. 

Now just because they aren’t physically with us anymore doesn’t mean they haven’t lived on in other ways. You see around the time Jutes was making his excursion, someone else took a faithful trip to the island of Newfoundland. A group of particularly sporty nobles, also from England, saw the Water Dogs at work and decided they absolutely HAD to have one too. These men brought a handful of lucky puppies back with them in hopes of creating the world’s greatest sporting dog...an ambition they actually achieved judging by the resulting breeds continued popularity with hunters and fishermen. The second Earl of Malmesbury was one of these lads and his son is credited as being the very first to begin actively breeding them.

In 1903 the Kennel Club recognized the group as an official breed, and the American Kennel Club did the same in 1917, though they were no longer called the St. John’s Water Dogs. The new breeds name was a homage to the Earl and his son and the original dogs they brought back with them all those years ago. You see the earls liked to show off what their dogs could do to friends and family and would affectionately refer to them as their ‘Labrador Dogs’, apparently uncaring that the canines came from Newfoundland and actually had nothing to do with Labrador. Geographical error or no the name stuck and the Labrador Retriever was welcomed into the club. 

Today Labs are the most popular breed in America, and have been since 1991. They are among the most versatile working dogs on the planet, employed as everything from guide dogs to drug sniffers to search and rescue. But more than their intelligence the breed is most famous for their unbelievably friendly temperament, making them fantastic family dogs and popular with young kids.

If all of this sounds like a dream come true there is no shortage of reputable breeders out their,  and unfortunately twice as many who arent. Always ALWAYS do your research before getting a dog of any kind, both of the breeder AND the breed. The more knowledge you arm yourself with when going into an interaction like this the better. Now my current dog, and all the dogs in my family, have always been rescues so my interaction with breeders is limited to the couple I have contacted in my current search for a new puppy, and I'm not in the market for a lab specifically, but i can pass on advice i got that helped me immensely. Always look at the parents, meet them if at all possible, and pay attention to temperament. With such a popular breed you have an almost never-ending list of possibilities, so if anything feels off or weird, pick someone else. One of the best ways to start off your search is to find someone with a lab who’s personality and look you like and ask them where they got them from, ask about how much follow-up they did, the application process, ect. 

Also pay attention to the KIND of dogs they produce. Now this doesn’t apply to all breeds but with labs and any other breed with such a versatile skill set its important to know what exactly you want your dog to do and what they are being bred for. If you own a lab you may have been asked whether your dog is of the American or the English variety. This can actually have nothing to do with country of origin, a misconception that has led the Labrador Retriever Club (the official breed club as recognized by the AKC) to denounce these terms. What it refers to is the sort of genetic line the dog comes from. American labs or ‘working line’ labs are generally smaller, bred to spend their life out in the fields and focused less on adhering to the strict official breed standard required to win a dog show. English labs refer to ‘show’ or ‘conformation’ lines and generally have the characteristic block head and wide stance. Its a difference of style. So if you see this on a breeders website its always a good idea to confirm if they are referring to origin or style. This is important if you are looking for a particular look as well as activity level. If you just want a dog as a family pet and friend for your kids look for a breeder who specializes in family pets. You dont really need or want to shell out the money for a champion line duck dog or best of show winner if they are going to spend their life lazing about your house. 

Knowledge can save you more than just a headache when it comes to puppy shopping, it can also save you quite a bit of money. Its kind of like shopping for a very cute car you also have to feed. Now I am not saying that breeders are sleezy or are trying to pull the wool over your eyes Most breeders are in the game for the love of the breed and out of a desire to spread that love.  but sales is, at the end of the day, about making money. Knowing what is and isn’t ‘special’ or whether the asked amount is actually what your possible pup is worth can be priceless. The best example of this is the so called ‘silver’ lab. I have personally run into a number of people who have what they proudly proclaim is a ‘purebreed’ lab with a rare genetic mutation that gives their dog a gray or silver coat. Now, im not in the business of being the breed police and am not going to argue with them if thats what they want to think...but that doesn’t make it any less wrong. The only official colors, per the Labrador Retriever Club, that labs come in are yellow, black, and chocolate. It is genetically impossible for a pure bred labrador to be silver. Thats just science. If you want to read the exact genetic breakdown of why this is impossible, the Labrador Retriever Club as a pretty cool article I will post in my sources. Most likely what they have is a dog with a weimaraner somewhere in their family tree. And if thats what you want, or you just really like the look of the silver coat thats awesome. I mean weimaraners are crazy but thats neither here nor there. Im a huge fan of mutts, I think they are the best house pets anyone could ask for...just know thats what you are getting. A big part of a pure breed price tag is the fact that they are a pure breed, they have papers and a lineage, a carefully crafted history. Again, not to look down on mutts or silver labs, i'm just reporting the facts.

Physically labs are generally pretty healthy, if obtained from a reputable and responsible breeder, but there are a few things you want to look out for. Labs are at a higher risk of issues like hip or elbow dysplasia, heart disease, and some eye issues then some other breeds. The National Breeders Club recommends members test for genetic carriers of these issues in their breeding stock and if you dont see anything mentioned on a breeders website I would definitely ask. Bloat is another consideration, though this applies to any deep chested larger breed, and is immediately life threatening so talking to your vet about signs and symptoms is advisable. They also love food and will put pretty much anything in their mouths so keeping careful watch of their weight is a must, following the recommended feeding amounts on your food bag.  

There are a couple more things to keep in mind when looking into any breed you might want to welcome into your home. First, Grooming. Labs are double coated, with a water-resistant top coat and a warm, thick undercoat...which means they shed. Like a lot. So weekly, sometimes daily brushing is advisable but even with that expect to be doing more then a little vacuming and lint rolling...or be like me and just embrace you new fur covered life. Now I dont have a lab, but Tallmadge is a 110 lbs shedding machine who, like a lab, has a coat that sheds year round. But there is a point, usually twice a year, where a dog will blow out its coat, or shed away their winter or summer coat to make way for the next seasons hot new look. Luckily other then that and your regular nail trimming and teeth brushing (yes, you should be brushing your dogs teeth) they dont really need a whole lot of grooming. Maybe a bath every-so-often when they roll in something particularly gross or after a day splashing in the local river but thats it. 

Another big consideration is exercise. On their website the AKC or american kennel club makes the labrador retriever as needing a LOT of exercise and this is a recommendation I would take to heart for a number of reasons outside of the obvious health benefits of an active lifestyle. While labs sound like the perfect pup for any situation keep in mind that they are a working breed at heart. They thrive in an active and engaging environment, requiring regular outlets for their energy and intellect. 

Lab puppies and young adults are known to be some of the most destructive breeds if left understimulated. Im talking about demolishing furniture, eating clothes, digging up years, destroying walls. Yeah. walls. I had a student whose family finally brought me after he chewed through their back-door and took himself for a walk around the neighborhood while they were away. Most people blame this kind of activity on separation anxiety, and while I am NOT an animal behaviorist and thus cant definitely say it isn't signing your dog up for a training class or joining a local walking club is WAY cheaper then shelling out for a behaviorist. 

Now, the two main arguments I hear from lab parents are 1. We walk EVERYDAY sometimes for MILES and he still is crazy, or 2. I would LOVE to take him for a walk but Its a nightmare! She drags me around and barks at everyone! So, while walking is probably the most obvious form of exercise, or playing fetch or going to a dog park ect...these activities often ignore a huge part of why your dog might be acting out...they are BORED. Like with most intelligent breeds, if you don't give them something to occupy their mind, they will find a way to occupy it themselves. 

Puzzle toys or a kong are a great way to keep your dog engaged and focused, but the best way to work out their brain is something very VERY near to my heart. You guessed it...Training. But keep im mind their high trainability is a reference to their potential not their natural state, meaning you must teach them what you want them to do and if you do that they will generally excel. 

As a trainer I have had the pleasure of working with a number of labs, both from puppyhood on and starting as adults. It is always best to begin training as early as possible, BEFORE they can build any bad habits. Labs are mouthy, so working on proper socialization is a must. They are also known for being pretty glutinous, so treat based positive reinforcement generally works wonders, but focusing softening their mouth aka taking treats nicely, will save your hands a LOT of accidental pain later on. I also like to start working on leash manners a little earlier then normal with a lab. Breed standard for a full grown male lab is 65-80 ibs but its not uncommon to end up with a 100lbs + dog. Getting them to mind on a leash is WAY easier when you're not fighting against that much muscle. This is particularly true if you don't like the idea of using tools like prong collars or remote trainers and also want to keep your arms. 

A 10 min training session can be as good as a 30-40 min walk when it comes to tiring your pup out, and while I would love it if you went out and supported a local trainer or joined a training club its something you CAN do by yourself at home. Trick training is fun and there are tons of sights out there with great ideas and step-by-step instructions. You can even earn your dog official titles as a trick dog from the comfort of your own home! Or teach your dog to do something useful. Tallmadge can get his own leash, my shoes, and his food bowl on command and learned how in just three evenings (and hes not the most...motivated...dog in the world) Finally there is the fantastic world of dog sports, which I will be doing an episode on fairly soon but in the mean-time feel free to shoot me an email if you want any more info because I could quite literally talk about this stuff forever...which is why I have...you know...a podcast…

Before I start wrapping this up i do want to remind everyone that dogs are all individuals. This has been a quick overview of a breed made up of millions of different dogs with different personalities, temperments, and experiances. They are living creatures with their own minds and feelings, and though it is very easy to think of them as possessions or to anthropomorphize their actions or motivations its important to take a step back and realize what you are doing. Everything a dog does, it does from a reason, free or malice or alterior motive. As a trainer I see this constantly both in pet parents and in myself, and I see just how dangerous this thinking can be. Dogs of all shapes and breeds are surrendered to shelters for behavioral problems their former owners where simply to lazy to address or because they weren’t willing to make the simple changes to there lifestyle required. There are perfectly legitimate reasons for surendering a pet, and my heart goes out to anyone who has had to make that choice and know that what im about to say does not apply to you…

Getting a dog is a huge commitment. It is a living, breathing creature who relies on you for everything. If you make the choice to go out and get a dog, weither it be from a breeder or a shelter, you had better be ready to put in the work. If there is something your dog does that you dont like, its up to you to fix it. Go out, get help, do the work. There is no easy solution, not magic pill. Dropping your dog off with a trainer and letting them put in the time will NOT solve your problems. I am a professional, everything I do and say, everything down to the way I stands or how I give treats is carefully cultivated and refined over years, both by me and those I have learned from. Yes, I can help lay those foundations, but unless you pay attention, unless you are consistant and continue where I left off, it will be useless. Training is a process, not a destination. The work is never really finished. And if that sounds like a headache you would rather not deal with...dont get a dog. I have yet to meet a single untrainable dog...only untrainable parents.

But honestly there are very few of those too. Most people simply dont know how or what to do, which is what im here for! So thank you so much for spending this time with me and I hope you will come back again for our next episode. Im still new to all this so im not 100% set on a release schedule, or how long these episodes should be, or even what you want me to focus on so if you have any feedback absolutely feel free to hit me up on social or via my email, which I will lay out for you in a sec. Im going to start off with releasing episodes every two weeks, so every other monday, to give myself enough time to make the best show I can. Before the credits I wanted to share a quick current news story, and stay tuned after the credits for one last little fact.

So here we go;

On April 29th the Washington Post reported that the University of Pennsylvania is working on training 8 Labrador Retrievers to sniff out SARS-CoV-2, the virus that causes Covid-19. According to the article, which I will link to in the show notes, it hasn’t been proven that this is possible yet but there is a fair amount of precedent. Dogs have been trained to sniff out things like drugs and other contraband and can even be used to detect other illnesses like malaria!    

Check back for the answers in our next episode, which will feature my personal puppy starter guide and help answer common questions new puppy parents often ask. 

So if you are a new dog-parent, or are about to get a dog and want any of your questions answered send me an email at thehowlpod@gmail.com. Same goes for any general question, topic requests, or if you just want to say hi. 

I also want to start a segment highlighting the real stars of this show...your dogs! If you want me to feature you and your pup send me an email, titled ‘Pack Pups’ to my email detailing you and your dogs love story, bonus points if you include pictures I can post on our instagram. Again the email is thehowlpod@gmail.com

This podcast is (obvious) free but if you want to help support me and by extension my four legged children I also run an Etsy shop called MonochromeFalconShop, all one word, where I sell stickers, keychains, and (more recently) face masks. I plan on adding some dog themed items as soon as I finish ironing out a few final design kinks. You can find me on etsy at www.etsy.com/shop/monochromefalconshop

This episode was written, researched and produced by me, Alaina York with additional moral support from Tallmadge and Meeko. Background cat sounds provided by Bumper. Full episode transcripts and list of sources can be found on our Tumblr; TheHowlPod.tumblr.com or in the google doc linked in the show notes. Follow us on Twitter @TheHowl and on Instagram @TheHowlPod. Please Rate, Review, and Follow if you feel like it and dont be afraid to say hi, I promise I dont Bite!

And finally, one last little treat;

Lab mixes are pretty common for obvious reasons and come in all kinds of shapes, sizes, and colors. Its not weird to walk into a rescue shelter and see many of these sweet mutts. But the more you meet the more you may notice a bit of an odd pattern...you see the most common color found among labrador mixes is not the classic yellow, its black. And yes labs do come in black, but per breed standard its a solid, unblemished black. These pups have a tiny splash of another color, a color not associated with labs at all...white. Specifically a small patch of white on their chest, often referred to as a medallion...giving them a look very similar to a particular, now extinct landrace of dogs who’s friendly disposition and sportsman’s spirit captured the attention of a british nobleman and, through its descendants, still captivates the world. 

[woodsens]

The Most Influential People in the fire inside music Industry and Their Celebrity Dopplegangers

Correction Appended

On an album of bittersweet childrens music that she wrote greater than a decade ago, the woman who came to get recognised only as being the piano Instructor provided what, in hindsight, seems like an eerie glimpse of her have long term.

Im going absent today to an area so distant, the place nobody understands my identify, she wrote while in the lyrics of a track identified as Relocating.

When she wrote that song, she was younger and vivacious, a piano Trainer and freelance audio writer who liked Beethoven and jazz, sunsets and river Appears, extended walks and almost everything about Big apple.

On one of those beloved walks, by way of Central Park in the bright Sunshine of the June day in 1996, a homeless drifter conquer her and attempted to rape her, leaving her clinging to everyday living. Following the attack, the phrases to her track came real. She moved away, out of Ny city, from her previous life, and all but her closest close friends didn't know her name. To the remainder of the planet, she was — similar to the additional well known jogger attacked in Central Park seven many years previously — an anonymous symbol of the city nightmare. She was the piano Instructor.

Now, about the 10th anniversary on the assault, she's celebrating what appears to be her complete recovery from Mind trauma. She's forty two, married, with a small boy or girl. She's Kyle Kevorkian McCann, the piano teacher, and she or he wants to convey to her Tale, her way.

Her doctor told her it could just take ten years to recover, and Sunday was that talismanic anniversary. I sense my everyday living continues to be redefined by Central Park, she said a number of times in the past, her voice smooth and hopeful. In advance of park; immediately after park. Will there ever certainly be a time Once i dont Feel, Oh, Here is the 10th anniversary, the 11th anniversary?

She spoke in her modest ranch house in the wooded subdivision in a The big apple suburb. She sat in a very eating room strewn with toys, surrounded by pictures of her cherubic, dim-haired 2-calendar year-outdated daughter. A Steinway grand stuffed 50 percent the place, and at one place she sat down and performed. Her actively playing was forceful, but she appeared humiliated to Engage in more than a few bars, and shrugged, rather then answering, when requested the name of your piece. She questioned that her daughter and her town not be named.

She phone calls that working day, June four, 1996, the working day when I was damage.

Hers was the main within a string of attacks by the same guy on four Gals above eight times. The final target, Evelyn Alvarez, sixty five, was crushed to Dying as she opened her Park Avenue dry-cleansing shop, and in the end, the assailant, John J. Royster, was convicted of murder and sentenced to existence in prison.

Nevertheless the attack around the piano teacher would be the just one individuals appear to recollect one of the most. Part of the fascination has got to do with echoes in the 1989 attack to the Central Park jogger. But Furthermore, it frightened folks in a method the attack to the jogger did not because its instances were so mundane.

It did not occur inside of a remote A part of the park late in the evening, but near a preferred playground at 3 during the afternoon. It could have took place to anybody. The tension was heightened with the secret of the piano lecturers identity.

For 3 times, as law enforcement and Medical practitioners tried using to see who she was, she lay inside a coma in her medical center mattress, nameless. Her dad and mom were being on getaway and her boyfriend, also a musician, was in Europe, on tour. Lastly, one of her learners regarded a law enforcement sketch and was ready to identify her from the clinic by her fingers, due to the fact her experience was swollen over and above recognition. The law enforcement did not release her name.

The last thing she remembers about June four, 1996, is offering a lesson in her studio condominium on West 57th Avenue, then putting her prolonged hair within a ponytail and likely out for just a stroll. She would not remember the attack, Despite the fact that she has read the accounts of the police and prosecutors.

To me its just like a reality I discovered and memorized, she claimed. Just as if I were a pupil in school learning history.

She will not think of The person who did it. I may have been offended to get a second, but not a lot longer than that, she said. How could I be indignant at John Royster? He was declared not insane, but I suppose by our specifications he was.

Dr. Jamshid Ghajar, her health care provider at Big apple Medical center-Cornell Medical Heart, as it absolutely was recognised in 1996, instructed reporters that she had a 10 per cent possibility of survival. Doctors experienced to eliminate her forehead bone, which was later on replaced, to generate home for her swelling Mind. When her mother produced a public attract pray for my daughter, thousands did.

Immediately after eight days, she arrived out of a coma, to start with inside a vegetative point out, then in a very childlike point out. As she recovered, she slept little and talked consistently, occasionally in gibberish. I used to be obtaining mad at people whenever they didnt respond to these terms, she said.

Like an Alzheimers individual, she had very little quick-phrase memory and would fail to remember readers as soon as they remaining the space.

About various months, she needed to relearn ways to wander, costume, go through and produce. Her boyfriend, Tony Scherr, visited every single day to Perform guitar for her. He inspired her to Perform the piano, from the recommendation of her physical therapists, who believed she could well be disappointed by her lack of ability to Engage in the way she after experienced. Mr. Scherr performed Beatles duets together with her, taking part in the left-hand portion although she performed the right.

Which was my ideal therapy, she said.

In August, she moved back household to New Jersey, with her father, an engineer, and mom, a schoolteacher. She visited outdated haunts and identified as friends, seeking to revive her shattered memory. I was pretty obsessed with remembering, she claimed. Any memory loss was to me a sign of abnormality or deficit.

Her therapists assumed her development was great, but her two sisters protested that she wasn't the deep thinker she were.

What bothered her most was that she had misplaced the chance to cry, as though a faucet within her brain had been turned off. Just one evening, nine months immediately after she was damage, she stayed up late to observe the John Grisham Film A Time for you to Get rid of. Just following her father had long gone to mattress, she watched a courtroom scene of Samuel Jacksons character on demo for killing two Adult males who experienced raped his youthful daughter.

The faucet opened, and also the tears trickled down her cheeks. I considered my mother and father, my father, and what they went as a result of, she explained. Small by very little, my experience returned, my depth of mind returned.

Urged by her sisters, she went back again to highschool and acquired a masters diploma in music education and learning.

Not every thing went nicely. She and Mr. Scherr break up up five years after the assault, although they continue to be pals. She dated other Adult men, but she usually instructed them with regard to the assault instantly — she could not enable it, she explained — and so they never identified as for the next day.

We've got to uncover you someone, her Pal David Phelps, a guitar participant, reported 4 a long time back, before introducing her to Liam McCann, a pc technician and novice drummer. For when, she did not say anything at all with regards to the attack right up until she obtained to understand Mr. McCann, after which when she did, he admired her energy.

Mayor Rudolph W. Giuliani, who experienced normally visited her at her bedside while she was within the healthcare facility, married them in his Moments Square Business. She wore a blue costume and pearls. Even though she was Expecting, inside of a burst of creativeness, she and her pals recorded Though Were being Younger, an album of childrens music that she experienced penned ahead of the assault, including the song Relocating. Her ex-boyfriend, Mr. Scherr, produced the CD. On it, her spouse plays drums and she performs electrical piano.

Is her lifestyle as it absolutely was? Not exactly, although she's unwilling to attribute the discrepancies to her accidents. Her very last two piano pupils left her, without contacting to clarify why, she mentioned. She has resumed playing classical songs, but simple parts, simply because her daughter doesn't give her time for you to follow. As for jazz, I dont even try, she reported.

She want to drive additional, emotion stranded in the suburbs, but she is well rattled. She attempts to be written content with staying household and caring for her daughter.

Dr. Ghajar, a scientific professor of neurological surgical procedure at what's now called Big apple-Presbyterian Medical center/Weill Cornell Healthcare Middle, who operated on Ms. Kevorkian McCann following the assault, reported final 7 days that her level of Restoration was rare. Shes mainly typical, he explained.

Other specialists, who will be not personally familiar with Ms. Kevorkian McCanns situation, tend to be more careful.

Regaining a chance to Participate in the piano may possibly require an Virtually mechanical process, a semiautomatic remember of just what the fingers must do, claimed Dr. Yehuda Ben-Yishay, a professor of clinical rehabilitation medicine at The big apple College School of Medicine. As soon as brain-injured, you are often Mind-wounded, for the rest of your life, Dr. Ben-Yishay mentioned. There isn't any overcome, You can find only intense compensation.

The greater telling Portion of a recovery, in his watch, is psychological, and on that score he counts Ms. Kevorkian McCanns relationship and little one as a significant victory.

For her aspect, the piano Instructor appreciates she has transformed, but she has made her peace with it. I was form of a hyper —— I dont know if I used to be a sort A, but I was bold, she says. Why was I so formidable? I was a piano Instructor. I dont understand what the ambition was about. I really did come back to the individual Im designed to be.

[flakandforay]

Best of Me Analysis

heres the next instalment of the Love Yourself 承 Her Album, the third track: Best of Me . 

i will be analysing several components: music and lyrics.

disclaimer: this is just my personal opinion. feel free to disagree. let me know your thoughts about it in my ask box.

overall: to start off, this is the song that many were interested in. why? because the chainsmokers helped to produce this by giving the beat and they worked together with the rapline on this. 

honestly, like i mentioned before, i was not as hyped for this song because of the fact that chainsmokers are helping to produce it. not that i have anything against them really but because of the fact that their sound is so distinct. the chainsmokers makes really great beats which is why their songs are always hits though they cant really sing ( cues the VMA performance of 2016 ). but because of their beats, their songs sound really similar. to the point that when you hear a song, you could tell that chainsmokers produced this, perhaps not the whole beat but definitely parts of it ( eg. Closer, Something Like This ). and so i was a bit worried as to how this song would turn out, considering it might get overwhelmed with the sound of the chainsmokers. however, i was really interested how bangtan would manoeuvre with the beat to make the sound theirs instead, just like how they remade Come Back Home - Seo Taiji  and honestly, i think bangtan did great with this song.

the moment i heard this song, i was so hooked and i nearly forgot that chainsmokers took part in it until i heard the chorus and im thinking, ‘oh there it is’. i love how they made the beat theirs while retaining the essence of the chainsmokers in the chorus. not to mention how we are getting new sides of the members ( coughs yoongi singing ). throughout this whole album, best of me was the best for me and i love it so much, not to mention how both Taehyung and Seokjin mentioned on their V App broadcast before their comeback show that they both liked it and that the other members were pleased with how the song came out. they mentioned on the Cultwo Show that the chainsmokers were the ones who approached them first for a collab and when they agreed, the chainsmokers sent them 10 beats for them to choose until they found one which they thought they thought they could best work with and that this is the result of it. i think this song really came out well in my opinion.

music: so jimin starts off the song straight away with the beat, something not usually done. usually many songs tend to let the beat start for around 10 seconds first to let the listeners get a feel of the beat before the singer actually sings, but interestingly not this time round. a nice contrast to the dna in which it starts off with the whistling. i like how the beat starts with that one drum beat before the chorus of voices going ‘ooohhh’ and then that drum beat that follows to signal the transition of parts to jungkook now at 0:08, again the beat highlighting his voice. 

but heres the slight change, theres that one dream beat again to signal jungkook and seokjin’s part but its done softer now. interestingly they harmonised both of their voices, its a bit hard to tell seokjin’s voice inside but you can hear it in the beginning at the 0:15-0:16, because of the slight change in timbre of the voice. but more often this part is being dominated by jungkook’s voice with seokjin’s being the underlying vocals. 

then it transitions to taehyung’s part now at 0:24 with again that same soft drum beat to signal the start of his part. but notice so far, that the beat doesn't change and actually its still relatively the same, theres no build up to it yet. until it goes to jungkook’s part now at 0:31, again the drum beat on the 1st count before the beat actually changes to intensify this time round.the synths this time round changes. ( but then again idk why but i could hear some part of seokjin’s voice again at the initial part at 0:31 again ). the synths intensify this time and you could hear that theres this other synth that starts to gain momentum to lead up to the chorus, with the constant beat that comes in at 0:39 and then that one synth that starts to be in crescendo and starts to multiply in its counts at 0:43 that builds up to the chorus at 0:47. that nice drop to the chorus with the beat being full revealed now. 

but notice how there aren't much lyrics in this chorus, putting more emphasis on the beat that showcases the sound of chainsmokers, having the line ‘you've got the best of me’ sung after 3 bars. interestingly, the chorus actually starts earlier than usual this time round as compared to their other songs such as dna in which the verses were slightly longer and the pre chorus as well, but not here. 

moving on to the next part of the song to feature namjoon’s part at 1:03. i like how the beat reverts back to the one that they used in the beginning, where the synths are lesser this time round again so it signals the start of the verse again, a nice contrast to the ear, but the beat changes slightly, as now there is the use of the constant drum beat and the chords of an electric guitar. i like how the constant drum beat is there so it seems like it didnt stray away from the chorus, maintaining that upbeat vibe. 

and now here comes my favourite part ( yoongi singing at 1:18 ). yoongi singing gives me life. he can actually sing especially those songs with very little vocal range and his timbre of voice is really nice to listen to. you could listen to their 3rd anniversary last year in which Sope performed Homme’s ‘I Ate Well’. both yoongi and hoseok could sing and have potential to but since their positions are rap, they dont really sing. so when i heard yoongi sing this time, i was very excited, but notice how the beat becomes harder this time round and it becomes louder as well, possibly because you see young’s singing is being underlined with jungkook’s vocals. but of course, since the focus is on yoongi, his vocals are being emphasised more but the sound sounds more fuller because of jungkook’s vocals.i like how yoongi ends his singing with ooh woah at 1:24, like its a nice transition for him to go back to rapping, that small ad-lib there. and at 1:27, yoongi is back to his rapping but notice his rapping ‘you've got the best of me’ is in a way like he's talking but at 1:30 his rapping intensifies before it ends and dissolves to go to the pre chorus. the beat this time round has the voices of ‘oooh’ that lasts for the whole bar however at 1:23, its gone for a bar before it builds up at 1:28.  but its different that the ones initially, as it actually goes up a note from 1:31 to 1:34, and kinda riffs at the end in tandem to when yoongi spits fire in his rapping as the beat intensifies as well. 

theres that small break of about 1-2 seconds between his part and taehyung’s which gives time for the beat to adjust again to move to the prechorus this time, giving a stark contrast between the beats and the synths are back again !!!! again i think theres some underlying vocals here again of taehyung and jungkook together at 1:34!! you could hear theres two different timbres in the voices but at 1:43 it becomes jungkook and seokjn’s harmonisation again as what they did before the first chorus. though contrary to the video on the hidden vocals, i think that seokjin is more on the hidden vocals just because jungkook’s vocals are more dominating than his except for the first bar. and of course the drop again at 1:50.

but this time jimin is switching with jungkook’s part of the singing. but this time round, contrary to the first, the chorus this time round is longer. with a harmony of taehyung and jungkook to sing ‘So please just don’t leave me’. the synths this time are the same. i say that the chorus is longer because theres this added verse of jimin singing inside but theres some underlying vocals too, one of really low timbre, i would want to safely assume that its hoseok but i cant be too sure. anyway, theres this delayed entry of the beat at 2:14, instead coming at the 1st, it comes at the 2nd, a nice pause. then it comes back again to the chorus again to wrap it up. 

then it moves on to the part prior to the bridge with jimin singing at 2:22, but the beat changes again, its not as intense as the chorus but the synths change this time, focusing on the use of percussion synths, altering between one counts and having some triplets in between, the first bar, the beat comes on the 1st and 3rd and the next bar it comes on the 1st again but in a 1, 2n count before the next bar at 1 count and the 3rd being a triplet and then at 2:30 with jungkook taking over the bars are around the same. 

at 2:37, its now hoseok part and the beat changes again !!! the synths die down a bit, but theres that constant drumming beat till the synths start building up again to meet the chorus again. and that nice ‘eh; at 2:45 to signal the change in hoseok’s part to him now sort of shouting/rap to wrap up the bridge. why do i have a feeling taehyung is the one saying ‘eh’, maybe because it sounds like him or something he would do lmao, also is it just me or i could hear some piano inside for a few bars and then again its overwhelmed by the synths. nice how it doesn't lead up to the prechours this time round. i guess its safe to say that hoseok’s part is the bridge since it dives straight to the chorus. but i like how they used that same beat that accelerates to go to the chorus at 2:53.

i like how the chorus is slightly different this time as now it sounds more fuller with the additional use of the ‘oohs woahs’ again and it stretches throughout the chorus, yes i love me a chorus of random words being sung. and then it turns back to the beginning beat at 3:25 even with the same ‘oohs’ again and at 3:32 its jungkook’s part. i like how the beat dies down here to sound like the beginning so now its not all in my ears bless. and at 3:40 it just ends with that one beat to signal the end and 7 seconds of silence, prolly to give your ears a break. i think its important especially for songs that are rich in electronic synths, personally i do enjoy a bit of silence as sometimes electronic synths have a tendency to be more overwhelming but i like how bts balances it out throughout the song, knowing where to emphasise and where to tone down.

lyrics: so obviously listening to the song at first, i couldn't really catch all of the lyrics. but now reading them, i guess i could make some sense out of it, or at least i hoped to. honestly, the lyrics are pretty normal to me i guess.

so basically what im getting is that the lover is the one who has the best of the person throughout the seasons and weather. that the person really cherishes his lover, hopefully not to change and to be by his side. but somehow some of the lyrics mention how the lover could be the reason for his pain and anxiety yet at the same time, being the only capable of saving them yet he needs the constant reassurance from his lover. 

넌 내게 이 세계의 전부 같아, 더 세게 아프게 날 꽉 껴안아 = You’re everything in this world to me, Harder, so it hurts, hold me tight’ 

난 너의 칼에 입맞춰 = I’m kissing your sword

넌 나의 구원 넌 나의 창, 난 너만 있으면 돼 = You’re my salvation, you’re my shield

비가 내리던 나, 눈이 내리던 나, 모든 불행을 멈추고, 천국을 데려와 = It was raining, It was snowing, But all unhappiness stopped, You brought heaven to me

but what i liked the most about the lyrics is particularly namjoon’s one, ‘다정한 파도고 싶었지만, 니가 바다인 건 왜 몰랐을까’ = ‘I wanted to be a warm wave But why didn’t I know you’re the ocean?’ poetry right there. honestly if namjoon writes poetry book, ill buy it lmao

last thoughts: as i said before, i really like this song a lot, even without knowing the lyrics, i thought it is a great song because the chorus especially, gave me the 80s vibe that i love so much. its not a full on disco vibe but some hints of it, something that is more refreshing to my ears.

in general, i think this song is well balanced not just through the beat but in line distribution as well, the use of harmonies is great so though you may not hear one member singing all the time, they could be the underlying vocals that complete the sound of the song and make it what it is.

[Photo Source] Bighit Entertainment  Credits: maxine ☕️ DO NOT REPOST ©

[whatyousaiddotcom-blog]

SOME CORRESPONDENCE OF SC

Correspondence between SC and JM (a member of the accountability panel), November 2014

SC     11/29/14    to JM

Dear JM,

it was nice to see you other other day at the demo....im not exactly sure how to start this email but our exchange keeps repeating on me...so i thought i would write to you... i was a bit irrked that you seemed surprised that I said I was feeling quite shit and when you asked me whats up etc

I'm starting to think you have no idea what the impact the bloomsbury ten stuff has had on me... i wanted to write to you so you had some type of idea...

as Im sure your aware everything sparked up again recently ( it actually sparked up (intensely) again a few weeks before K’s piece of writing but i wont go into that here ). and there is now a name and shame blog doxing me and the others and accusing us of various crimes.

I know you have not partaken in this and even tried to calm thing down on fb at one point.... but it doesnt help and things are really bad.

there are a BUNCH of people who read our intervention letter who have grossly and purposely falsified what we originally wrote -  you know many of these people  - ( ie NBa, RA-D, P, STA, etc many others ) and im sure you have seen this stuff circulating recently and over the last few years.

they accuse us of at least these things:

- victim blaming

-denying it happened

-calling her a liar

- asking for more evidence

- asking about her sexual history

-bullying and harassing her

-saying it was her fault.

yet anyone who read / reads the original letter and who has basic comprehension skills can clearly see that none of these things happened. these are projections onto what we wrote and not our words at all. obviously we cannot even defend ourselves publicly to refute these malicious claims without picking over detail and i think no one thinks it would be appropriate or right to do this as both the first email and our response have details of …. This has left space for others to twist and turn and lie about what we originally wrote.

Im not saying you should agree with what we wrote or our intervention but seriously these lies about what happened are more than malicious and completely untrue. equally as for the claims that we were were hiding behind anonymity  -  we went to BOTH follow up meetings after we wrote the letter and everyone knew who we were -  we also agreed to go to a third meeting but that never happened .... the only reason people have my name now is because i went to a meeting and made myself known like everyone else. i hardly think this is hiding ...

---

i want you to understand the effect this has had on me not just in the last month or so but over the last few years as well.

firstly i had so much self doubt to the point that i felt that i WAS a victim blaming rape apologist and that what we had written was of that effect. I had to read and re read what we wrote over a couple of hundred times ( and that is not an exaggeration )  -  i have read it over and over to try and understand peoples accusations...finally in desperation I showed it privately to (redacted) who were not part of writing the original statement -  from (redacted) to  (redacted)  - i showed it to very smart and honest people-  EVERYBODY was fucking shocked at the way what we wrote had been interpreted. It is only with the most decontextualised and ungenerous reading of about one line that you could move to a victim blaming reading...... this response /  projection is complete gas lighting and really hurtful and dangerous. ( esp for me as i have pretty serious mental health issues)

over the last weeks, basically after K wrote her piece, i repeatedly felt suicidal and got very very ill... al had to take time off to stay with me and look after me. I couldnt walk i couldnt eat and i couldnt sleep. i was completely haunted by the trial by social media ( i actually still am). and the very malicious smears against me and the others. I basically had a complete breakdown and had to be put in touch with a crisis mental health team and was very close to hospitalization.... and although i am on the mend now i am very far from being well and am dosed up to the eyeballs on meds and still have very low days. this has had an extreme impact on me.

Im not sure if you know this but i lost my father at the beginning on this year.... its really been the year from hell. I was just starting to recover from his death and then this stuff comes up and was the final straw and knocked me sideways...

many people of twiiter who tweet about this like its a fucking sport know not only that i lost my dad this year but that i have stress triggered mental health problems... this doesnt seem to stop them from massively false and malicious tweets. I have had PERSONAL abuse from R and there are a lot of men who have taken a delight in taking a stand against me ( victim blaming rape appologist ) and think its fine to stick my name on a blog and spread lies about me ( obviously i deserve it).....

to get proof of who was saying what I literally had to witness my own online abuse in real time as a live twitter feed -  i had to screen grab the lot before people could deny or delete what they were saying or block me - please try to imagine what its like to photograph your own abuse as spectacle on twitter. ....

anyway i have proof of a lot of what and who has been saying what now...

----

to be honest im not even telling you the half of what has gone on , on the impact this has had on me and others and of how upset i am by the sheer dishonesty, cruelty and sadistic abuse that has happened. ontop of that no one says anything and people like RA-D, M and NBa and P go on as if nothing has happened.

---

i know you havent joined in in any of this and you didnt ask for it to happen. I have to be honest with you though -  neither you , JB, SB, or MC [the accountability panel] have ever said anything and this really hurts. you were all part of the original group who wrote the letter and tried to sort things out.... no one has said anything and it has spiralled to the point that it has.... you all have been able to walk away.... it was very hard to have you bounce up to me at the demo and be surprised that i was not ok or ask why i was not ok.....

i am basically known on twitter as a rape appologist for things i haven’t done and haven’t said. have another look at what was written   - we never disputed what [REDACTED]  said once -  we criticised the process as we said we didn’t think things were being dealt with in a serious or appropriate way -  we NEVER disputed what she said or said it was her fault and we always said that it needed to be dealt with... its written in the statement which im sure you still have..

i dont really know why im writing this... i know you disagree with what we wrote  - i disagree with what was originally written  - but never did i think you were coming from a bad place -  i know you were trying to do the right thing.... i feel like people assumed the very very worst of me and others and that it is grossly ungenerous and now is dishonest and cruel.

i dont know what to say really - im still not ok about any of this and now every time i go on social media or to a demo I must wonder if i must see people like RA-D. NBa etc acting like nothing bad has happened, acting like they are not abusive and dishonest and that there will be no repercussion for how they have treated me and others.

— ( screen grabs sent including death threat screen grab)

i have plenty more screen grabs that just a very very small selection..

(redacted)

if you think about it " pls remind me who im missing out"

he purposely left my name out ( he knew i was part of b10 ) then asked people to remind him of my name in the  separate next tweet ... please run that around in your head and think about what that means and why he did that... he takes a massive pleasure in being purposely abusive to me personally... its a fucking sport to him..... and no body said anything.

———

sorry to keep emailing  -  only to say i probably have left my flat less than 15 times in the past two months /  two and half months since this has kicked off.... im basically non functional and i spent about a month uncontrollably weeping for most of the time i was awake... quite literally  -  u can ask anyone from a to DG or MH  to the crisis team or my dr -  who took it in turns looking after me during the worst parts of it.

that i have to put up with abusive men like RA-D or women like NBa and P ( because i deserve it for being a rape apologist ) is beyond a joke.

you know very little about my life and nor does anyone else - i have NOT had an easy life , the statistical chances of  me being relatively sane , functional and with a good post grad education are much less than 1 percent.

and now i have to put up with a bunch of very well educated privileged student activists who I know to have high comprehension and reading skills fucking lying about what i/others have written and done is a fucking joke.

and that they purport to do this in the name of countering gendered structural violence is a fucking disgrace.

JM    11/29/14    to SC

Hey S,

I had no idea it had gotten this bad and that it was ongoing.

DG mentioned some of this to me a few weeks ago but but then I had only seen a small amount of the backlash on M's facebook wall, which is what I responded to. It seemed like it had flared up around K's post but was beginning to die down. I don't use twitter that much, partly because of the irritating dogmatism and pernicious attitudes it seems to produce (case in point), so I hadn't seen any of the stuff on there. I either don't follow, don't know, or have stopped following the people you mentioned and have generally distanced myself from a lot of the left-crowd in the past year for a number of reasons - but partly because I find the language and mentality which seems to have developed so off-putting that I no longer feel a part of the same discourse - the result is that I'm perhaps more out of the loop than you were aware.

Whatever type of anarchism it is that justifies this kind of behaviour I don't want any part of, and can't think of anything more willfully destructive than posting people's names on the internet or threatening people with violence. I can understand why [REDACTED] is angry about what happened but I can't for the life of me understand how this will help anything beyond a misplaced desire for arbitrary retribution.

You know my feelings about what was written, but as far as I'm concerned it is in the past. I'm sure that if we could go back in time everybody would have gone about things differently on all sides. What matters to me is where people's heart is - I have no doubt whatsoever that people like yourself and MH are good people with the best intentions. I wouldn't maintain the fondness I hold for both of you if I didn't. JBR and some of the others I'm less sure about - there are some good parts to him, but I don't trust him enough to be as close as I once was; being polemic or 'critical' often seems more important to him than generosity of spirit, and he can consequently be quite nasty to people with very little reason. He is far better at sowing division than anything else. I think RB is a good man but sometimes lets his friendship with JB cloud his judgement, as it did mine at points in the past. I certainly don't harbour ill will towards him, even if I felt initially hurt by him, and I'm sad we're not as close to each other because of all this stuff - I feel like I lost an important friend. I haven't come across RL in the past few years but I'd like to hope we'd be able to clear the air one day if we did cross paths. I've never had any reason to doubt she's a lovely person who got caught up in an extremely difficult situation and any hostility she expressed was an understandable product of that.

As for now, I don't think anybody has any answers to this stuff and if we're going to come up with anything of meaning or value it will require thinking through the kind of criticisms K made in her post, many of which are inarguable. At the same time we can't just ignore issues when they arise for the sake of convenience. Unfortunately the political climate seems completely anathema to learning anything productive from what has happened and looks to bully people (how much easier) on social media instead - hence my increasing sense of frustration with the 'scene' and my desire to become more distant from it.

I haven't been staying silent because I'm okay with what's happening - I simply haven't encountered it except on M’s facebook wall, where I intervened accordingly. If this starts to happen again send me a message and I will offer whatever weight I have as someone who criticised the original statement. I'm wary of putting something up out of the blue lest it simply stir the whole thing up again, but if others are doing that anyway let me know.

I hope you're doing okay.  if you want to have a drink and chat about any of this or life generally just drop me a line.

J x

Correspondence between SC and JM (a member of the accountability panel), April 2015

to JM

and are any other accountability group members coming to the meeting?

JM    4/26/15    to sc

Yep that's fine for me - as to the others I don't know, I prodded them the other week but no one replied. I think I'm right in saying that no one was opposed to talking on principle but that there were reservations about it being a larger meeting, what the objective was, how it might be framed etc. If we're going with the 6th then I'll send a message and see what they say.

SC    4/26/15    to JM

no one is going to frame anything .i have always been open with you about my thoughts on this...i think its better for all of us that other people, who are wise and have good politics esp gender politics... are there to advise us all.... i would like people to stop abusing me for stuff i havent done, written , said thought, think etc.. i dont think its a big ask for the group to come considering they were at the heart of the process. i know none of them have been abusive towards me... however they were intitated a process that has become way out of control...i think people need to face up to what has and is happening in an honest way. as i have said many times i have evidence of people smearing me and abuseing me online. there is a very male core to alot of this abuse. i need to make this stop. my endurance for this has run out and its making me exreamly ill. please communicate to the the seriousness of this situation.

and apart from myself i ( unlike all the liars say) worry a great deal about [REDACTED]..I am totally unable to approach her to try and get aid with resolution for her, which she clearly needs.

basically JM i am not despite what many people write about me online , some type of evil bastard and neither is anyone else. the way we have been and are being treated is unjustifiable and it needs to stop, be confronted and people need to take responsibilty for their actions. i am sick of being hounded online and being villified to a large invisible audience. i am sick of people justifying their abuse cos they think i deserve it. - that actually is victim blaming and it needs to stop.

SC     4/26/15    to JM

i have a folder with 6 months worth of abuse  -  which is about 300 tweets, thats is just a tiny tiny percentage of what has been going on. within this folder i have a sub folder of people joking about putting me in a black bin liner, stabbing me, glassing me and saying that i should be killed.  when are people going to wake up?? i am a real person, this has a real imapct on me.  i suffer real mental health issues, which are classed as a severe disability. do u understand that if i have a sever breakdown i have zero garentee of " coming out" of a psycotic state? have you any idea what it is like to live with that thought?

how can i get this into peoples heads here??? i have STRESS TRIGGERED PSYCOSIS. -  i cant really understand how this cannot at least move people to take some kind of action? or is it that they think that cos i am a " victim blamer" ( which i am not ) that i should just suffer the abuse that i am receiving?

do they need doctors notes? i have access to 18 years worth. i am not making my health problems up....

SC     4/26/15    to JM

do u realise that this is not going to go away? i cant live like this.

they cant justify their abuse. because thats what it is.

SC     4/26/15    to JM

i hope that all of you in the accountability group will stop  not see this as an attack on you all and start to face up to what is actually going on here. i incuded people like np, tz and dg on the list becuase i am hopeing that you might talk with them and listen to them about this, you all clearly have zero respect for me and dont believe me.. but myabe you will listen to them? some other perspectives?

JM     4/27/15    to SC

I don't think I've given you any reason to feel I have zero respect for you, Sophie, or the others. I'm coming to the meeting - I'm just relating as best I can what other people feel. I understand their caution, and I can't force them to do anything. I will say that I worry about seeing me or the others as the solution to this - ultimately it isn't coming from us, and none of us share personal relationships or even a political outlook any more with the people involved. To me this is exactly the problem with abandoning the notion of being part of a community with obligations to each other, and what happens if there's no process in place that can bring closure to a problem - which takes us back to the original disagreements I suppose. This was an issue whether anyone wanted to address it or not.

SC     4/27/15    to JM

No one expects any forcing. Some of those in the accountability group are pretty close to some extremely abuseive people. I find it abhorrent. Maybe JB MC Sb etc might well talk to them off social media?  I don't know really. It seems odd that a group of people who used to be my friends and who profess to want to deal with gendered violence just shrug their shoulders and say this is a consequence of what u wrote. Or something similar. I have pointed out a number of times how what we wrote has been undeniably and maliciously distorted - and then this distortion used as a pretext for abuse. I m not the only person who think this, I have shown the text to NP, MV, TZ,  DG and other people I trust and asked them to read it for the things that we all have been accused of, (redacted) and said that I would apologies if it had blamed her, I lost complete trust in my own capacity to have faith in my own motivations and actions. That is actually gas lighting. Ikon wits not coming from u ( well I actually have at least one horrible grab from SB) but a lot of it is coming fro. People who were on that list or went to the meetings. Plenty people are making excuses for all this is more than shocking... It's like some bastard of Lord of the flies and the Salam witch trails on acid. I have men beating up on me online for things they know I haven't said. And even if I had said them it would still be unjustifiable.

SC     4/27/15    to JM

JM I'm sorry I'm a 35 year old working class woman with severe mental health problems. I was (redacted) and had (redacted). Before I went to university, at 25 my life was spent in (redacted) institutions and women's (redacted). Against statistical odds of probably less than one percent I have a post grad and had hoped to do a PhD. My life was for the first time on 30 years starting to settle. This is ruining me. It's making me ill. I have these disgusting middle class pricks hounding me online for sport and cred. I'm not MH and I'm not JBR and this b10 stuff does not play out in an equal way for us all. For me it is extreeamly traumatic due to who I am and the life that I have lived. As I told you it's making me ill, I am extreeamly lucky I haven't ended up in hospital. Please take time to get educate yourself about schizo effective effective disorder and its relationship to stress.

I hope that the other accountability group people will come to the meeting and stop being complicit and cowardly.

SC     4/27/15    to JM

I am hoping for some type of collective process or intervention. If this doesn't happen I am forced to take matters into my own hands alone to stop people abuseing me.

JM     4/27/15    to SC

I think it's best I just relate the things you're saying to me directly to the others because, as I've said, I'm coming to the meeting.

Are you alright with that, and if so, is there anything from this thread you'd want me not to pass on?

JM     4/27/15    to SC

to be clear I mean just c/ping the above so they can hear it themselves and decide accordingly. I don't think I can be any more use as a go-between now

SC     4/27/15    to JM

If you think it will help I suppose you should. Please do not copy sections but the whole exchange. I feel angry that I am I a position where I must disclose the shit life I have lived. And which still makes me feel a great deal of shame. At least maybe I won't have to go over it in A meeting publicly.

If I find that anyone had forwarded my email exchange beyond people who were in the accountability group I will be more than angry. Equally if it is subject to gossip or distortion on or off social media and I shall be more than upsset.

Thanks for trying to help.

Correspondence between SC and ZB (who had acted as a representative of [REDACTED] during the accountability meetings), October 2014

HI ZB,

I am writing to you as I have been told by people that we have in common and that i trust that you are solid feminist with good politics. I will try to keep this brief. i am not sure how much you are aware of what has been going on recently and for years. I do not have the energy to go over all of it.

The situation cannot go on as it is. I am getting very ill, I have sever stress triggered schizoaffective disorder. I have lost my father this year too. I have comrades and my partner caring for me, so don't worry about that.

I am worried about  [REDACTED]. ( not [person with same initials] the other one )

here are some of her tweets, i have a million more, this is a random selection. I have seen worse.

— ( screen grabs of [REDACTED] and other actors)

there are a lot of lies being peddled here. Of course i would be extremely angry too i if i thought anyone had denied my suffering and my experience, victim blamed and asked me to evidence it. ( actually the position that i am in now )

there are a network of actors here, between me and you and her, who have deliberately falsified what we originally wrote and did and have done since.  I think they do this to make a political point and to normalize a certain political practice. They can all read well. Im sure a;lot of them have read the original text that was written  ( i have attached it here along with my own writing ).

The ONLY reason myself and others have not defended ourselves in a public way is because we am worried about [REDACTED] safety and sanity . I cannot be a punch bag for these people. they are not her friends/ comrades either and not helping her at all. I feel she needs support but i cannot approach her.

There are a host of people getting a lot of pleasure out of all of this. I have screen grabs of the lot. in amongst them hide some very abusive men.  I have hard evidence of men abusing me on twitter and using [REDACTED]’s trauma as an excuse to do so. there are a bunch of women too who have played a very big part in escalating this to the situation as it currently manifests. I have had to  witness all  abuse play out as a spectacle on twitter.  I have ( had to ) screen grabbed the lot.

I am not asking help with anything other than a good support network for her. I feel that she is surrounded by some very dubious people, with bad politics and ethics.  People who call themselves feminists and communists, who are so far away from that its unreal.

I am sorry to pull you into this but i am worried that lives are at risk. i know you have just had a baby ( congratulations) and i imagine you are time short and tired. If you can think of any thing that might help please let me know.

Solidarity,

SC

ZB    10/13/14    To SC

Hi S. I will use the form on the tumblr to ask for it to be taken down. I don't know who is running it, I was only aware of it after A told me about it yesterday. I have no reason to think that whoever is behind it will listen to me but I will message them.

I have not seen [REDACTED] for almost a year, nor am I able to spend much time on anything political at present as I'm heavily pregnant. Beyond messaging the blog post there isn't anything else I can do at present.

ZB

SC     10/13/14    to ZB

Ok thanks for writting back. I worry for [REDACTED] I really do . Her identity seems very invested in all of this persecution and lies. I don't know how aware she really is in all of this or how much she has been gas lit by others. I am sure you can read and I  sure you can see that we never blamed her nor ignored or denied that it happened or her trauma. We disagreed and intervened  in all of it that is for sure  - we disagreed with how the process was manifesting. but none of us have ever bullied her denied that it happened or asked her for more proof or any of those vicious claims that are currently circulating .

Anyway thanks for your solidarity and for writing to the blog. I wish you luck with your pregnancy. X

Sent with one hand

4. Correspondence with an email list including JM from accountability panel, March 2015. This correspondence took place around DG’s banning from Goldsmiths Occupation. DG was not part of B10.

SC to List

sorry but this is not going away..  -  an argument about safer spaces - will NOT sort this out!

this is too much bs, i need some support i want to confront this its a pack of fucking lies i am sick to my teeth of this.. i want to call it...it absolutely needs to stop and be put right.

J M - YOU WERE IN THE ACCOUNTABILITY GROUP WHICH HAS BEEN COMPLETELY QUIET.!!!.... you need to meet with me and others and this needs to stop! im AM SICK of people spreading lies about me and others and abusing ME AND MY COMRADES on the web for things that were not said and done! I do not give 2 fucks about what any1 thinks the b10's intentions were.... i know what we wrote and what was said in the meetings after.. i also have a ton of screen grabs about all the malicious lies been spread about us...

i have cc'd Ad. into this who has been purged from SF. i hope he will help us sort this out. MB and U and J all vouch for him.

i CANNOT HANDLE THIS ANYMORE. IT NEEEDS TO BE PUT TO REST!

MB     3/28/15    to SC, kD, AL, B, AS, D, CB, DG, JM, JBR, AP, Ad.

Fucking right!

Apparently people have walked out of the occupation due to this, it wasn't democratically agreed upon at all. the occupation statement and the people behind it are fucking idiots.

JM [accountability panel]    3/28/15    to SC, kD, AL, B, AS, D, CB, DG, JM, JBR, AP, Ad.

Oh for fucks sake.

Alright, I've replied with this for now.

"I don't know where you have got your information from but as someone who was involved in trying to address the situation you're referring to I want to make it absolutely clear that DG had nothing to do with the B10 statement, and was nothing but helpful to me and others throughout the process. I can't see how suggestions to the contrary can be justified. Banning him or anyone else from giving talks runs counter to everything that was trying to be achieved at that time. For people with no knowledge of what you're referring to it also reads like an extremely serious implication about DG. Please don't put out statements like this without contacting people who actually know about the circumstances, and respect the spirit of their intentions. Get in touch with me or anyone else who was involved if you want to talk about this more, but I strongly suggest you remove this statement and cease implying falsehoods about DG, whether you want him to speak at Goldsmiths or not."

SC - I can only respond to what I see, and have done so when directed to obvious bullshit like this.

AP     3/28/15    to SC, kD, AL, B, AS, D, CB, DG, JM, JBR, AP, Ad.

Authoring the thing 'Bloomsbury 10' was so ridiculously stupid. It just sounds so ominous for anyone who hasn't a clue what this is about. I think those involved who havent come forward and defended themselves in writing should probably reconsider as this obviously isnt going away.

SC     3/28/15    to kD, AL, B, AS, D, CB, DG, JM, JBR, AP, Ad.  AK

All, JM,

I really do appreciate that you have made a clarification about DG.. however this for me does not cut it at all as it does NOT address the false claim against b10.

to go over this again, the claims are based on the letter that we wrote to the email list, which i attach again, with my underlined parts.

the claims that are made against us that i have screen grabs of, are :

- we victimed blamed and are rape appologists

- that we harrassed [REDACTED] and made her life hell in the ensuing years

- that we hid under a cloak of anonimity - ( WE WENT TO 2 FOLLOW UP MEETINGS in the following week -  making it obvious who we were and what we wrote)

- that was said she was lying /  making it up /  said it was her fault

PLEASE READ WHAT WAS ACTUALLY WRITTEN ON THE STATEMENT!!!!!!  IT IS ATTACHED!!!!!

to make this really clear pls read what i wrote in another p[rivate email to a member of sf earlier this month in regards to this letter:

----

I am prepared to take responsibility and argue over the contents of a letter i help write, discuss what it means, and the impact of it and its context... i am not prepared to accept falsifications of what was written, nor projections onto it by others of any inherent meaning or imagined bad motivation or intention.......

for example, i think a reading that is used to justify a lot of the victim blaming label attached to me ( and others ) in relation to the letter ( which after all started all this off more or less)  logically works like this:

the first move is to take a single paragraph out of the context of the whole document ( i mean the paragraph that mentions the accountability panels omission of the discussion of knife play - i think this section is what cause most but not all of the accusations of rape apologia and victim blaming etc)

the second move is then  to do two things with the de-contextualized paragraph:

1) make it stand it and negate every other written word on the b10 letter

2) and importantly then make the following argument:

something like ".. any mention of the context of the knife is TANTAMOUNT TO VICTIM BLAMING...." ... the claim is, the context of the knife is both irrelevant and at the same time any mention of it would only (be to) discredit her account...

er hello???? why do THEY think it discredits her account... (this is not what we ever said..we did however write that we fully acknowledge her account, this it needed serious responses which had already started, wanted dialogue and a different way of dealing with /  you can read those sections i have highlighted them)..  ..... this last move.. ( the context is discrediting) is their ( very troubling) projection onto what was intended, meant written, etc etc

im sure you see my point.

please think about the logic of that move....it is very odd and dubious....

-----

the accountability panel were criticised. NOT [REDACTED]!

when is this going to be put to rest..... THE ACCOUNTABILITY PANEL have said NOTHING.. for 3 years!!!!!! THIS IS TOTALLY UNFAIR.

you and others may disagree with me  / b10 questioning and disrupting the process. BUT NOT BY FALSIFYING WHAT WAS WRITTEN>

I have had to put up with 3 YEARS of gaslighting me, having "anarchist" men abusing me personally, of being doxed online. I CANNOT TAKE THIS ANYMORE. THIS HAS TO STOP> THIS IS NOT A SAVE DG’s REP CAMPAIGN>

i want a meeting with you JM JB MCe and SB and TJ [all the members of the original accountability panel] and you were ALL in the process and have said NOTHING ABOUT ANY OF THE FUCKING LIES AND ABUSE BEING LEVELED AT ME AND OTHERS.

i am sick of this its BULLSHIT.

i spent 4 years of my fucking life in a (redacted)l. i have a locked and hidden social media account FOR A REASON. I WANT THIS SORTED OUT AND THE TUMBLR DOWN.

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Posted with Comscore Mediamatrix and then Neilsen Netratings among the many leading well known online dating sites available anywhere, Mate1.web offers through Thirty six.Several thousand thousand people, together with 1000s members joining every day. Population ourtime is expecting women of all ages to generally be nice, but they can being tough women involves raw being honest. Dont tell a lie relating to looking at somebody to escape flipping ones time frame off. The knock backs could possibly damaged all the persons sensations in the beginning, yet its quite as good as risking biggest individuals on as well as a more complicated talk afterwards. Here at Cupid.web, small children that almost all singular individuals in addition to individual girls usually are not thinking about spending too much time after several hours submitting types plus reviews. Identical one another well on your answers to a whole lot of of no concern problems isnt greatest indicator of the matchup with someone you know. The biggest strategy for finding out in case you are really intended to be somebody is simply by conversing with individuals.

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Theres no longer a fabulous low in ways to obtain capability harmonizes with throughout computer means, preferably instead there is the contrary issue: too many options. By way of a huge selection of member-filled internet dating readily available, plus 1 thought to be commencing regular, its hard are aware of restaurants to site the wedding ceremony. Though several online dating sites are very obviously planned for several target demographic, you will find also an excess of so-called mainstream dating online platforms that each one boast of being the right online dating site attainable. Obviously these are always advantageous to get, though obtaining many can sometimes errors much of our ideas and earn people could not locate the best web-site for all our intentions, dreams, and then elementary must have. A word of advice to feline owners, even if arecent studyshowed preference felines is attractive, however expressly mentioning my cats isnt. Therefore just like you can mention that youre the cat fan in order, its far better help you save your whole Mr. Mittens experiences for ones to start with big day. Summarize whatever you dont require at a associate.Just as critical as showing on your own and just what one does for example and desire for a different inividual could be the ability to describe whatever you dont really want within the husband or wife. For illustration, once you try a fabulous vegetarian life, most likely you dont need lover whom isnt ok start. Maybe you are economizing your personal virginity for the purpose of spousal relationship, it is wise to bring that in the event that for free else, a new filtering procedure. Its possible once you also dont want dating really sports consumers, training regimen that will, at the same time. This forum might be exclusionary or possibly affirming contingent upon whos going to be examining ones collection.

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Posted with Comscore Mediamatrix and then Neilsen Netratings among the many leading well known online dating sites available anywhere, Mate1.web offers through Thirty six.Several thousand thousand people, together with 1000s members joining every day. Population ourtime is expecting women of all ages to generally be nice, but they can being tough women involves raw being honest. Dont tell a lie relating to looking at somebody to escape flipping ones time frame off. The knock backs could possibly damaged all the persons sensations in the beginning, yet its quite as good as risking biggest individuals on as well as a more complicated talk afterwards. Here at Cupid.web, small children that almost all singular individuals in addition to individual girls usually are not thinking about spending too much time after several hours submitting types plus reviews. Identical one another well on your answers to a whole lot of of no concern problems isnt greatest indicator of the matchup with someone you know. The biggest strategy for finding out in case you are really intended to be somebody is simply by conversing with individuals.

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This particular ones reasonably totally obvious sherrrd like to be familiar with shell utilized proper care of. Youve have the basics nailed their employment, a motorcar, a roof above your head. It doesnt really mean bragging around the proportions of your money, regardless if youre upon MillionaireMatch. Its a lot more about picturing your lifestyle methods tunes sexy. There is not any cringey report producing, considering that we all that the acquaintances recognize you must * to publish ones shape on your behalf! Like aquiring a electronic wingman by your side, it will require the particular not to mention stigma out from online dating and also portray a more rewarding imagine individual as the human being. Your buddies will also advocate various other single people on the site for your needs, and yes it doesnt matter who actually gets under way practise — a good friend could add anyone, additionally, you can link up and easily provide us with your own pals email address contact information. Utilize the options that come with a dating web-site (such as exams).By by using all of the features to a internet site, youll be able to give the calculations employment his or her miracle. For my situation, I became more suitable equated by means of people that cleared lots of issues; and additionally on the contrary, people who Simply put i wasleastmatched in addition answeredlots with basic questions. This exams have a factor during whom occurs towards the top of any matches record. Moreover it (often) results in a more quality complement that makes talking much simpler and better useful. Basically, if perhaps youre the lack of fortune by means of OkCupid to this point, response this tests and become honest inside delegating why your issues. Finally as increasing numbers of men of all ages (tardy vast majority) joined up with your website, I actually recognized 2 conditions. 1st, is the women became not as much trusting, lessopen and even more not bothered within who seem to they even discuss with. Secondly, the numerous individuals on shirtless images and much participating styles photo high. Good quality people who were actually more informative on their single profiles was forced out by the overtly sexy 1bros that will reigned over this website. As a result, people shattered all the multi-level involving nice agrees with. I personally dont have been exposed to any other men who actually took all the research on there (such as Employed enthusiastically); I should say also know handful of girls who used typically the study for over a number of basic questions. And so, the things Im just saying heres that will online dating sites evolved into difficult the normal denominator lowered and thus caused problems with while using superior with corresponds I just and other people would most likely acquire. A profile image reveals lots of words, that is certainly currently more than folks want to examine within a actual adult dating page. Its firstly site visitors find precisely what give them the courage to make sure you browse lower and learn a great deal more, hence concentrating on ideas far more options.

The post animal lovers dating sites cheap appeared first on Guest Blogging Platform for Jewelry & Fashion.

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