#it was a close call between this and sliding down the pyramid in 4-4

[raptorrobot]

yeah okay the robot kaiju fight is the coolest one. i'm only human

ultratober prompt list

[bagelsforall]

Favorite level in Ultrakill?

Hm, that's a difficult choice lol - aesthetic-wise, it's a close call between 5-2 and 6-1. I'll never forget the first moments of 5-2 looking out on the ocean, and the INSANE atmosphere at the beginning of 6-1.

Gameplay wise, 4-4. Sliding down a pyramid while having a shootout with V2 was incredible, it's a moment I'm never gonna forget.

[cryysiswritesthings]

Beneath the Darkness in My Bones || Chapter Five

Fandom: Inuyasha Rating: Mature/NC-17 Warnings: Horror, Psychological Torture, Trauma, Implied/Referenced Torture, Rape, Parent/Child Incest, Obsession, Drugged Sex, Sexual Assault, Abuse, Non-Consensual Somnophilia Status: In Progress Pairing(s): KogKag (main), BanKag, Oni(gumo)Kag Summary: Horror is all she knows. Darkness is in his blood. She is the other half of his soul, and his calls for her echo long into the night.

Find it On: Tumblr | AO3

***NOMINATED FOR THE BEST DARK FICTION CATEGORY FOR FEUDAL CONNECTION’S 2021 1ST QUARTERLY ANNUAL AWARD!!***

Thank you so much to my amazing readers! You guys rock!

Series: Flowers Grown in Darkness Desecrate You

Chapters on Tumblr: Prologue || Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 ||

Tumblr Tags: #kogkag #bankag #onikag #inuyasha #beneath the darkness #btd chapter #flowers desecrate series

As each day came, Kagome spent more and more time in the hidden dungeon with her new companion. Inuyasha told her stories of the land in the West, the forest and meadows he called home. He told her of his elder half brother, a cold man who ruled his father’s lands. Of his Uncle, who had always treated him kindly, and was the undisputed leader of the Western armies. 

He told her of his mother, the human woman his father had fallen in love with. Of their passing nearly two decades prior, and the battle that had claimed their lives. And he told her of Kikyo, as he’d known her before Onigumo’s presence in her life.

Those stories were the hardest to believe, though she did her best to not let him know that. Or, she supposed it was not that they were hard to believe. More so that she could not reconcile the woman he spoke of with the negligent one who’d raised her.

When it was her turn, she told him only small things of her life. How she was meant to be married soon, though she did not know to whom. That her father’s guard was disturbingly obsessed with her. And when she displeased her lord father, he raised his hand against his only daughter.

That fact had been met with Inuyasha’s own anger, and he’d restlessly paced his cell for nearly an hour after. It hurt him that the man who’d killed his friend now abused her child. But trapped as he was, there was nothing he could do about it.

It comforted her that he was so upset on her behalf. That someone aside from Bankotsu might care for her well being was a balm to a long forgotten wound. But when he asked her why she didn’t, couldn’t, do more to stop the beatings, she worried he wouldn’t understand. 

Kagome was surprised to learn she’d been wrong. If anything, Inuyasha had understood her meaning perfectly. The duality of fear and heart ache, the terror of worse punishments and the desperate need to be loved by someone incapable of such an emotion.

They’d sat in silence the rest of the day, hands clinging to each other through the bars.

It was the middle of the day now, flecks of light shining through holes in the stone walls. The remains of their breakfast sat in the basket she’d found on the first day, gnats flitting wildly over the forgotten food.

Actually, now that she thought on it, there had been a distinct increase of the annoying pests over the last few days. And not just over their food either; she could hear true flies buzzing from inside Inuyasha’s cell. 

Her silver haired friend was currently lying on his back in front of her, allowing her the special privilege of playing with his hair. She’d wanted to wash it for him, even bring a bucket and rag he could use to wipe himself off and feel clean. But he’d refused her offer, worried about what Jakotsu’s reaction would be if there had been any signs of someone taking care of him while he was gone.

All things considered, it was a valid concern. But if that was the case, she would need to bring a bucket of water by anyway. That way he could clear his cell of what would be known as an ‘unusual’ amount of excrement for a man who shouldn’t be eating. If the smell was getting to her after just a few hours, she couldn’t imagine what it would be like living with it everyday.

That was when the idea came to her.

“Inuyasha? Could you do something for me?”

Twin ears flicked back in her direction, an amber orb opening. “Not really sure what I could do from in here.”

Kagome shifted to her knees, scooting closer to the bars. “I need you to use your claws to cut something for me.”

“You want me to cut something?” Thoroughly confused, he moved anyway, setting himself closer to her. He looked wary. “And what am I cutting, exactly?”

Kagome held up a lock of her hair, smiling brightly. “This right here.”

He blinked once. Twice. “Why?”

“Just trust me!” Biting her lip, her grip on her hair loosened a bit. “Please? I promise its for a good reason.”

He scowled. “If you say so…” The chains rattled as he reached through the bars. He adjusted her grip, and with a quick slice, the strands were cut. “There, happy?”

“Yes!” Looking down at her dress, she dug through the fabric until she found her slip. This fabric she could tear on her own, and no one would notice the minor alteration.

Inuyasha watched, curious about her actions. Kagome tore off a small part of her undergarment and knotted it tightly around one end of the hair he’d cut for her. She then tugged his fingers close to the bars and made him hold the knot for her.

Slim fingers split the hair into three even parts, and Inuyasha starred in some surprise as she worked the strands into a braid. When she was near the end, she tore more of her dress to tie off the other end.

“Woman, what are you doing?”

Her smile was full of mischief, and she held out the braided lock for him. “It’s a present. It can’t smell good in here, so I thought this would give your nose a break when I’m not here.”

Inuyasha paled.

“Kagome, you can’t give me this. You can’t give me this.”

“Why not?” Glancing behind him, she nodded to the cell walls. “I’m sure you could pull one of those bricks out and hide it behind there. Jakotsu won’t see it that way.”

“That’s not the problem.” Swallowing hard, he tried to give it back to her even as his fingers tightened around the gift possessively. “I can’t accept this.”

“Yes you can. And you will. I won’t take no for an answer. And tomorrow I’ll bring something for you to wrap it in so it won’t get dirty.” Her friend still seemed to be struggling, so reached out to cover his hand with both of hers. “Please Inuyasha? I know it isn’t much, but it’s something I can give you. That way…” she looked away from him then, her eyes going to the floor. “Just in case.”

The other studied her, searching his mind for her motives. It occurred to him then--if her marriage ended up anything like her mother’s, he’d lose Kagome too.

Biting his tongue, he pulled his hand from her grip, cradling her gift to his chest. There was no way for her to know what such a thing meant to someone like him. What it would mean to her Other, if she ever escaped from this place.

If this princess ever managed to find them, and her Other found out about the gift, he’d be hunted down and killed. There was no questioning that.

But it was a comfort nonetheless. So he would return her gift of friendship with one of his own.

Inuyasha carefully set the braid to the side. One quick tug, and he pulled three hairs of his own.

Kagome watched him, a nervous excitement flickering to life in her chest. “Inuyasha, what are you…”

“Hush. I need to concentrate.” She didn’t speak again, so he went back to his task. His hair was made of stronger stuff, and so he had no need of other tools to tie it off. He tied off a small knot at the end and twirled the strands around his finger. As he let them slide free, the three hairs shifted, blending into one.

Kagome’s eyes were wide with awe. When he finished, he held it up for her to take.

“Here. It’s long enough that you can use it as a necklace, or as a tie around something you want to keep safe. And it’ll never break or tear on you.“

Biting her lip, she took his gift in return, inspecting the silver strand carefully. Tugging it between her hands gave credence to its strength, but even so it felt like a ribbon of silk.

Blinking back tears, she gave him a small, tremulous smile. “Thank you, Inuyasha. I’ll treasure it always.”

Hours had passed since then. The princess had gone to collect more food and water for them to share, each time taking longer to return. Her fears of being stopped had worsened the more time she spent away from the castle’s watchful eyes; as they were, there was nothing Inuyasha could do to help calm her.

This time, her delay had come from another stop. In her rooms had been a small deck of playing cards, which she and her companion now used for entertainment. She’d taught him simpler card games at first, but then they’d turned to balancing the cards in order to make shapes.

The sun had started to set, the last of its rays disappearing as the moon rose. A sudden, unexpected gust of wind made her shudder, but it was the call that made her heart stop.

Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh… Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh…

Swallowing hard, she tried to block out the sound, focusing harder on the half-made pyramid in front of her. But it was not to be ignored.

Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh… Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh…

She looked from the male behind the bars to the only sliver of light in the stone. It had been days since she’d heard that sound. She’d thought she was doing better.

Inuyasha followed her gaze for a moment before he turned back to her. Her eyes were half lidded, head tilted to the side. Like she was listening to something far away, something only she could hear.

Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh… Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh…

“What is it?”

She hummed lightly. “Nothing. You wouldn’t believe me.”

“Tell me anyway.”

It was a moment before she answered. “Howling. Always howling.”

“The wind?”

“The wind, the trees, the mountains… it’s inhuman.”

“Where is it coming from?”

“East. From the woods.” She blinked, coming back to herself. She was suspicious. “Why are you asking?”

He turned thoughtful, a white ear flicking atop his head. “I wondered what you were hearing, since I couldn’t.”

She seemed curious. “Is your hearing so acute?”

“All of my senses are. Hearing, sight, smell…” He bit his tongue, looking nervous. “You said it was inhuman. Does that bother you?”

She shook her head, shifting against the bars. “No. It…” she flushed lightly. “It sounds silly, but I feel better when I hear it. It’s… it’s as if whatever is howling is looking for me. It wants me to come to it, to find it…” her next words were soft. “So it can protect me.”

He seemed to relax, the corners of his mouth lifting in a smile. “Good. I’m glad.”

Something sparked in her chest, a question and answer all at once. “You… you know what it is, don’t you?”

“I know what it is.” He sighed, eyes drawn to the claws tipping his fingers. “Is… you said it was coming from the east. Are you sure? Not west?”

“It’s in the east. That’s where it wants me to go.” One of her hands circled the bars, teeth sinking into her lip. “Please, if you know anything…”

“If it’s from the east, it can only be a wolf.”

The statement drew her up short. “A…wolf?”

“Mm. You’ve probably seen him a few times, but you might not remember.”

She looked skeptical. “I think I would remember having seen a wolf, Inuyasha.”

“Not in person, doofus.” He grinned when she huffed at the playful insult. “In dreams. You’d have seen him then, like Kikyo did my Uncle.”

A beast of magnificent size, her hand tangled in coarse, dark fur.

She’d never touched him before.

Strength lined every tense muscle; she knew his urge to sweep her from the earth.

“Kagome?”

A muzzle as large as she was small, a chuff of warm breath and the squeal of a child’s delight. Her lady mother’s horrified screams, and a growl so loud she could feel it vibrating in her chest.

“Kagome?”

She shook her head, blinking her way back to reality. “You…”

Inuyasha’s smile was small, understanding. But there was a bitterness behind his eyes she couldn’t explain. “You’ve seen him.”

“He’s… he’s huge. Enormous. Wolves never get that big.”

“Lemme guess. When he walks next to you, his head comes up to what, your shoulder? Maybe sits a bit higher?”

“Bigger.”

He blinked in surprise, chains scraping the floor as he sat forward. “How much?”

“What?”

“How much bigger?”

“He…” She closed her eyes, trying to think. Trying to remember. “He towers over me. Twice the size of my father’s best horses.”

He stared at her in shock, which very quickly turned to worry. “You’re not afraid of him?”

“No, he’s… No.” She couldn’t understand where her surety came from, only that she knew without doubt that what she said was true. “He would never hurt me.”

Her friend relaxed. “Good. That’s good.” Curious, he questioned her further. “What does he look like? Do you know?”

Kagome shook her head. “No. I… I’ve only ever seen him in fragments.”

Inuyasha frowned. “That’s all?”

“That’s all.”

The half-dog hummed, elbows coming to rest on his knees. He stared at their tower, marginally aware of the princess’s eyes on him. “Can I ask you something?”

She blinked in surprise. “Of course.”

Inuyasha picked up a card, twirling it in his fingers. “Why did you think I wouldn’t believe you? I mean…” meeting her eyes, he pointed at his ears with the card. “It’d be a bit hard of me to say otherwise, considering.”

Flushing red, the princess reached through the bars and flicked a card out of place. Her friend’s indignant cry bought her a few minutes to try and find a way to answer him.

While Inuyasha grumbled, Kagome finally spoke. “You might think it’s silly.” Amber eyes flicked up to meet hers before looking back at their fallen tower. His way of telling her he was listening. “It’s just… I’ve never told anyone before. And even when I think about it sometimes, I wonder if maybe I’m really going crazy. Or if I’m turning into my lady mother, closed off and afraid.”

He winced, concerned. “Kagome…”

“I know she was different when you knew her,” she said quickly, cutting off his interruption. “But you have to understand, the person you and everyone else have been describing isn’t the woman I knew. She was… she was cold. Uncaring. She...” The confession was quite, almost impossible to hear. “She barely touched me unless she had too. Never gave me a kind word. She wandered the halls like a ghost, always searching for something. I don’t want that to happen to me.”

“It won’t happen to you. I promise.” The chains screeched across metal when he reached through the bars to cover her hands. “There’s so much you don’t know… so much I can’t tell you.” He sighed when she looked at him with confusion. “It’s part of our history. The more I tell you, the more danger you could be in. Kikyo… I think I told her more than I should have. And that’s why things went the way they did.”

Kagome shook her head insistently. “Inuyasha, my lord father is responsible for what happened. Not you.”

“But see, that’s just it.” Frustrated, he leaned against the bars, ears drooping. “I want to explain, but I’m afraid of what could happen if I do.”

Hesitant, but wanting to comfort him, Kagome reached through the bars and cupped the top of his head. “I think… I think I understand. At least a little.”

He sighed. “I don’t mean to keep secrets. I hate it when it’s done to me, so I don’t like doing it to other people.”

“It’s alright.” Her fingers scratched behind a delicate ear, unthinking. The appendage twitched, but aside from an exasperated huff, he did nothing to stop her. “Can I ask for something? If it’s not too much?” He hummed in answer, shoulders sinking as the tension in his muscles slowly ebbed. “When the time is right, will you promise to tell me as much as you can?”

“I promise.”

The alpha’s lips pulled back, baring fangs at one who couldn’t see them.

So. One born of the West was in the castle.

It wouldn’t matter. The Other would know not to encroach on his territory. Humans couldn’t see it, but all of the mates were marked with symbols of belonging. It was how they knew to keep safe those who were destined for them.

But just because the humans couldn’t see them didn’t mean they were unaware of the symbols all together. Those marks would draw others to them, humans of great strength, of cunning, of passion. They could not see, but they would sense the difference in the chosen nonetheless, even if they couldn’t understand what it was.

In the days of old, when human and Other would join for all to know, they had built communities and kingdoms of unparalleled renown. But such strength was not without weakness. And in those weaknesses, devastation would follow.

Soon, the lord and his guard would return. The pack had tracked their crossing. And after that…

The call of her soul was getting stronger. As was his. She would leave the castle and come to him. He knew it, even if instinct demanded he answer her summons.

All he had to do was wait.

[dumbdancemomssideblog]

S1E1: The Competition Begins

okie dokie first ever episode of dance moms rewatch starts now :0 i actually remember watching this the very first time it aired on lifetime because i was channel surfing and saw a commercial for it earlier that day. that was the summer between 8th and 9th grade. ah memories... i didnt know what to expect because i did dance when i was a kid but not on a competition team and it was mostly ballet so i was pretty unfamiliar with this whole world. 

anyway lets begin. this is probably gonna be a longer post than what i’ll end up writing for the other episodes in season 1 bc the first episode introduces so much info, just a heads up

Act 1: (aside: yes its insufferable to divide this into “acts” when its really just like “segments separated by commercial breaks” but thats how they’re called in actual tv scripts so im just going with that cuz i cant think of a better/easier way uwu)

god this is so fucking early 2010s lmao

i miss these days where they were just talented nobodies from pittsburgh on a low budget reality tv show that nobody even knew would be successful. and the bad hair and makeup but idk if that was also just a 2011 thing lol

THE REAL HOUSEWIVES GREEN SCREEN INTROS IM DYING

the chalkboard !!!! they werent doing the pyramid on the mirror yet 

(apparently abby never did anything similar to the pyramid thing but the producers made her and it became a whole Thing on the show and thats why the moms were like wtf is this bullshit the first week)

mackenzie looks like a toddler. chloe is so tiny. theyre the 2 who changed the most physically over the course of the show

i remember watching this for the first time being used to ballet lyrical and jazz but never having done or really seen acro/gymnastics in dance choreo and being SO flabbergasted. i was thinking “a chin stand is not dancing what the actual hell” and yknow what? i was right

melissa: “my boyfriend knows how much i spend on dance because he signs the checks...............hermehhemrherrmehermh” (the most awkward laugh omg)

maddie is wearing a fucking bumpit in her hair i cannot

melissa deadass just said out loud “im here for my daughter im not here to make friends” ok everybody mark that one off on your catty women’s reality tv show bingo card!

camera man accidentally getting in the shot filming right in front of the huge wall-mirror.... what is this, amateur hour? i’ll let it slide since its the first day of filming rehearsal but step it up, boys

aw i forgot about maddie getting sick and crying :/ poor kid

melissa saying “i cant stand a chid that’s sick” sounds so edited like the intonation made it seem to me like they just cut her off mid-sentence i love lifetime

oh this was still when they were wearing normal stuff to class/rehearsal like black leotards bc they werent getting sent a trillion crazy 2-piece dancewear outfits for free yet bc they werent famous, man those were the days

Act 2:

[obligatory b-roll footage of downtown pittsburgh] 

the maddie chloe paige trio !!!! this is making me feel so nostalgic

“knees together, paige. you’re bow-legged, you need to fix that”

“you’re tall, you’re skinny, you’re a beautiful girl, you can do better than this. FOCUS” shes like 10 abby what the hell

“people think im tough and i guess i am but i would rather be the one to make your kid cry in the privacy of my studio than at an open-call audition in front of hundreds of people”

okay unpopular opinion alert: i agree with a lot of what abby says about stuff like this but her delivery is flawed, to but it euphemistically, that being said i think the production team of the show and the fame inflating her ego changed all of this somewhere over the course of the second season and its really sad to see :/ i can expand on that thought later tho

aw paige crying bc abby correcting her (but not saying anything personal or out of line, just technique corrections (at based on what we were shown, we dont know everything she said oop)) shes a sensitive kid she never should have been put on this show :( 

paige looks exactly like her mom i didnt realize that before

nia and holly were done so dirty throughout the whole series in terms of the narrative the producers set up about nia being the weakest link :/ 

Act 3:

cathy’s entire involvement in the show from the very beginning was so painfully obviously scripted (or at least heavily staged) 

vivi was also done dirty by the show’s narrative and she was only 6 and they presented her as like the butt of the joke bc her mom’s “character” was crazy and also she wasnt good at dance. i wonder how she feels about the show now that shes a teenager hmm. she really seemed not to give a fuck about dance for better or for worse when she was a kid tho so maybe she doesnt care ?

in what universe would an owner of another competitive dance studio bring her own kid to another studio more than an hour’s drive away, AND be under the impression that she could compete with them in a week, especially when they showed the kids’ and moms’ shocked reaction at the start of the episode to having to learn a dance in a week and compete it? like really what is the point of cathy and vivi being a part of this show im so ????

Act 4: 

THE MINISTER DAWN OUTBURST HOW DID I FORGET ABOUT THIS

this fight is about 50% of what got them a full season 1 and then things took off from there tbh. the other 50% was the electricity dance but thats a point for next episode..... :)

“you’re a minister act like one” “YOU’RE RIGHT I AM A MINISTER! LET’S PLAY THE BIBLE GAME ABBY, WHEN JESUS SAW THINGS THAT WERE WRONG HE WENT AFTER THEM, AND YOU’RE NOT GOING TO DO THIS TO MY KID” ma’am i think the wrongs jesus addressed were of slightly more importance than a preteen being told she cant take a dance class if shes violating the studio’s dress code

this is so good bc it wasnt staged afaik and there are regular students all throughout the building just STARING at them like lmao what even is going on, so im pretty sure this is real???

regardless, yeah dont wear socks and a tshirt to an acrobatics class, thats common fucking sense

another cameraman-in-mirror sighting, but its hard to think about angles when filming spontaneous drama like this, so i wont count it against them

“you called me fat” (i remember that being in the episode but thats not on the episode available through lifetime on demand that im watching from my moms tv hmmmmmm) “i told you to close and tuck in your two-piece costume, theres a big difference. HOW CAN YOU REMEMBER THAT BUT YOU CAN’T REMEMBER TO TURN YOUR FEET OUT” uh scream

she really called the police on this woman i cannot handle this. can you imagine being a police officer responding to this call? 

“we have a parent thats out of control. pardon? no shes doesnt have weapons, just her mouth” iconic

im sorry im still not over the hair and makeup. the flat hair with the side bangs. the black pencil eyeliner applied all the way around the eye. why did any of us think this was a look :( why did we do this :(

Act 5:

they went all the way to phoenix to compete 3 numbers, only 2 of which are shown in the episode.

i think this is the only time they ever went to west coast dance explosion because its an actual competition and they wouldnt allow filming after this lol i think they did go to wcde one weekend in addition to a competition where they were filming but it wasnt shown or mentioned at all

abby not wanting brooke and paige to have a french manicure on stage if theyre the only ones in the group with the french tips is perfectly valid idk why it was framed as some crazy micromanaging shit

i also am really not a fan of the whole “high functioning alcoholic wine mom/crazy stage mom” schtick they were pushing for the first few episodes of this show

in retrospect i feel like so many of the quips in this episode were intentionally fucking crazy just to get the audience engaged enough to want to watch more episodes...

“see those girls down there, those girls with the legs? thats who you’re up against, so step it up”

abby warning them that its dangerous for their little party hats to slip when they’re doing aerials and pirouettes and stuff: “what if you were at radio city music hall and they had the ice rink out and you were doing a side aerial and fell 13 stories down and died, huh?” fantastic point abby thank you for saying that to 5 girls ages 8-12 less than 5 minutes before they went on stage. perfect time for a teaching moment like that :)

i forgot how bad the camera work was in the first few episodes for footage of their performances. like they really didnt think the show’s audience would actually want to watch the kids dance, the producers and editors thought we just wanted to see stage mothers yelling at each other lol

also the mic feed over the music of abby talking to herself giving them corrections while watching them dance on stage.... im so glad they quit doing that. i dont remember them doing it like that for any other episode, i hope im right

this choreo is very basic and its a cute dance i guess but its very cringe in some places and for the first episode this is such a forgettable group routine

their scandalized reaction to placing third and the sad piano music is so funny honestly

and maddies reaction in the interview which was almost definitely fed to her by the producers where shes like “i win all the time i dont really know what its like to LOSE i always win or get runner up” so many of maddies lines from season 1 interviews sound so fake and she was probably too naive to know they were getting her to say that stuff so they could paint her as a conceited brat (she was EIGHT)

the trio costume was so ugly im sorry (is it supposed to be like a 50s pinup bathing suit?) (and the headband thing looks so bad) and also the music is bad but they had no real authority over that bc of copyright stuff

chloe’s headpiece coming forward and the ensuing drama was another moment in the episode that really solidified public interest in the show imho.... 

“YOU’RE IN THE BAR HAVING A DRINK AND YOUR KID’S HEADPIECE IS FALLING OFF” “it did not FALL OFF it CAME FORWARD it was FINE!!!”

“mistakes happen, we’re human.” “YOU are. mistakes like that dont happen to me”

and then the “next time on dance moms” with the WILDLY INAPPROPRIATE electricity dance, of course. genuinely that was really smart of the producers in terms of structuring things to generate intrigue lol. and obviously it ended up working....

[splendidlyimperfect]

When Gray’s girlfriend dumps him right before Christmas, he’s stuck with a non-refundable, three-week holiday to Paris. Without another choice, he agrees to go with a stranger - a man who is remarkably charismatic, and a lot cuter than Gray is willing to admit. It’s supposed to be platonic (Gray’s straight, right?), but Paris isn’t called the City of Love for nothing.

Chapter Summary:  Natsu and Gray go sightseeing in Paris.

Chapters (4/6): 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 Rating: General Audiences Relationships: Natsu Dragneel/Gray Fullbuster Characters: Natsu Dragneel, Gray Fullbuster, Cana Alberona Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Holidays, Vacation, Christmas, Paris (City), Romantic Fluff, Mutual Pining, Holding Hands, First Kiss, Trans Character, Falling In Love, Strangers to Lovers, Romance, Gray thinks he’s straight but he’s not, Natsu falls in love hard, Gray speaks French because reasons, Tumblr: FTLGBTales

-----

“You’re telling me that we came all the way to Paris, and you don’t want to go up the Eiffel Tower?”

They’re three days into the trip before they make it to the famous landmark that Gray’s been trying so hard to avoid. Natsu stands in front of him, hands on his hips, eyebrow raised in disbelief. Gray groans, tipping his head up and taking in the tower – all one thousand feet of it. A large crowd mills around the bottom, waiting for the elevator to take them up.

“You can go ahead,” Gray grumbles, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I was gonna check out the catacombs, we can—”

“No way,” Natsu argues, shaking his head. “You can’t come to Paris and not go up the Eiffel Tower.”

Before Gray can protest again, Natsu reaches out and grabs his hand, pulling him toward the lineup. Gray’s stomach leaps at the contact – even through his fingerless gloves, Natsu’s hands are warm.

“I’m not…” Gray protests feebly, but Natsu isn’t listening.

Halfway up the elevator, Gray starts to feel dizzy. The lights below them spread across the city, and if he wasn’t terrified, he might have found it pretty. Instead, he leans heavily against the wall, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Gray?”  

“’m fine,” Gray mumbles, letting out a shaky breath.

Natsu moves closer to him, blocking his view of the city. “God, I’m an idiot,” Natsu says. “You’re scared of heights.”

Continue reading on AO3

“Just… a bit,” Gray says, opening his eyes and trying to give Natsu a reassuring smile. “It’s okay, I’m—I swear, I’m fine.”

“Uhuh.” Natsu reaches out and grabs Gray’s hand, slipping his fingers between Gray’s and squeezing hard. The sudden way Gray’s stomach flips is almost enough to distract him from the vertigo. “We can go back down, I’m sorry.”

“No, no, it’s…”

The elevator pulls to a stop and the doors slide open, and Gray peeks around Natsu’s shoulder at the soft tendrils of a brilliant sunset. Everyone else starts filing out around them, and Gray’s eyes flick back to Natsu’s regretful face.

“I’m sor—”

“C’mon,” Gray interrupts. He takes a deep breath, then squeezes Natsu’s hand and walks out of the elevator.

The observation deck is solid under his feet, but the wall is nothing more than thin bits of crisscrossed metal. The city sprawls out beneath them – houses and museums and millions of tiny lights. It’s gorgeous and breathtaking, and absolutely terrifying.

“C’mon, we can go back down,” Natsu says gently, tugging on Gray’s hand. “I feel like an idiot.”

Gray shakes his head, taking a tentative step forward. “Just… don’t let go,” he says, hoping Natsu doesn’t catch the flush that crawls up the back of his neck. Natsu squeezes his hand reassuringly, moving slowly toward the edge of the observation deck.

The look of childlike wonder on Natsu’s face is enough to distract Gray from his fear – as long as he keeps his eyes on Natsu and not on the very-far-away ground, he’ll be fine.

Natsu’s eyes are wide as he leans forward, gripping the metal with one hand as he peers down at the view. “It’s gorgeous,” he whispers.

So are you, Gray thinks, eyes trained on the smile that lights up Natsu’s entire face. His hair is highlighted by the evening sun, nearly matching the soft pink clouds that drift through the sky.

Gray’s only known Natsu for less than a week, and he’s already the brightest thing in Gray’s life.

“C’mere,” Natsu says, and when Natsu turns to Gray with that brilliant smile, Gray’s chest lights up, warm and content. “You’ve gotta see this. I’ll hold onto you, promise.”

“I…” Gray hesitates, but Natsu reaches out both hands, gripping Gray’s forearms and tugging him forward gently. When Gray reaches the railing, Natsu wraps an arm around his waist.

“Oh,” Gray says, looking down at the city while his heart slams against his chest. He’s not sure if it’s adrenaline or the smell of Natsu’s shampoo that’s making his heart skip like this. Probably both. “Wow.”

Natsu’s right – the view is gorgeous. Gray can see the river and the boats that run along the canal; the glass pyramid of the Louvre; the quaint street where they’d had breakfast at the café this morning. He can even see the bright colors of their hotel.

“See?” Natsu says, leaning closer and holding Gray tighter. “Worth it, right?”

Gray takes a deep breath as the last rays of sunlight dip below the horizon. Then he leans into Natsu and nods. “Yeah,” he says softly. “Yeah, it is.”

~

The rest of the week flies by in a whirlwind of shy smiles, tipsy flirting and sight-seeing. They work their way through the list that Gray had made before the trip – the Louvre, the Arc de Triomphe, the Notre Dame Cathedral. They even take a day trip to Versailles, and Gray falls asleep against Natsu on the way home, curled up with his head resting on Natsu’s shoulder. Natsu cherishes that hour more than all the time they’d spent at the palace.

One day Natsu even braves the catacombs. The excited look on Gray’s face when he mentions the underground tunnels is enough for Natsu to attempt to ignore his claustrophobia and drag himself down there with Gray. Being surrounded by skulls and femurs is terrifying, but it’s an excuse to hold Gray’s hand, which Natsu gladly takes.

“It wasn’t as bad as I expected,” he says later when they’re curled up on the hotel bed after a couple of beers. “Just… dark. And full of dead people.”

When he shudders and Gray responds with a tipsy giggle, Natsu feels bright and warm. Gray’s laugh is his new favorite sound, and he’ll do anything to hear it.

“I still feel bad,” Gray insists, shaking his head and leaning back against the pile of pillows they’ve shoved against the headboard. Natsu’s lying on his back, squinting at Gray upside-down.

“I owed you after the Eiffel Tower,” Natsu says. “We’re even now.”

Gray snorts as Natsu shuffles out of his jeans, kicking them to the end of the bed. Moving this way puts his head against Gray’s thigh, and when Gray’s fingers find their way into Natsu’s hair, Natsu sighs happily.

Natsu still hasn’t bought a new brush, and he doesn’t plan to.

“You wanna go to la Place de la Bastille tomorrow?” Gray asks as he slowly untangles the knots in Natsu’s hair. He starts with one hand, the other still holding his drink, but eventually sets the bottle down on the nightstand and nudges Natsu closer.

“What’s that?” Natsu asks, shifting until his head is completely resting on Gray’s thigh. Gray is warm and still smells like crisp snow, and it takes everything Natsu has not to turn onto his side and pull Gray toward him.

“It’s where the column is,” Gray explains. When he slips into French, something happy bubbles low in Natsu’s stomach. “La colonne de Juilett – en commémoration des Trois Glorieuses…” 

~

Natsu tips his head and hums quietly as Gray tells him about the French Revolution. Most of Gray’s friends aren’t into history like he is, and they tend to tune him out when he gets into it like this. But Gray can tell that even with his eyes closed, Natsu is listening intently.

As Gray talks, he keeps combing his fingers through Natsu’s hair. He hasn’t braided hair since Cana was little, but muscle memory kicks in and he starts to twist pieces of Natsu’s hair into loose plaits before brushing it out and starting over. At one point his finger slips behind Natsu’s ear and Natsu sighs happily, tipping his head to the side. His tattoo starts there – a green leaf with a small purple flower beside it. Gray touches it carefully, then trails his fingers down across the tattoo until his hand reaches Natsu’s shoulder.

Natsu shifts against Gray’s leg, and part of Gray wants to trace the lines further, run his fingertips across Natsu’s collarbone, brush against the hollow of his throat. They’re so close and Natsu is so warm against him, and Gray wants so badly to keep touching.

Something holds him back, though, and he brings his hands back to Natsu’s hair instead.

~

When they wake up the next morning, the pillows are pushed away, and Gray’s arm is wrapped around Natsu’s waist again. There’s a soft, quiet moment where they’re both wide awake and completely aware of themselves, but Gray still doesn’t move his arm away. They just breathe together, warm skin against warm skin, until Natsu shifts onto his back and Gray sits up quickly, mumbling something before heading to the washroom.

Gray doesn’t say anything about it later – neither of them do. They don’t mention the handholding, or the way Gray’s fingers feel in Natsu’s hair, or how Natsu’s foot is always hooked around Gray’s ankle under their table in restaurants. There are times when Gray’s tempted – when Natsu’s eyes are bright and they’re huddled against each other on the Métro, or when Natsu’s laughing with his head thrown back and his nose scrunched up.

Gray doesn’t, though. There’s a shy uncertainty in the way he cares for Natsu, and he’s wary of the way Natsu makes it hard to breathe. He’s never felt like this before – not even with Suki, who Gray had thought he was going to marry at one point. Every minute with Natsu is like being at the top of the Eiffel Tower all over again, thrilling and brilliant and absolutely terrifying.

And Gray won’t do anything to break that.  

~

Gray: attachment.jpg

Lyon: …

Lyon: Is that the Eiffel tower???

Lyon: You hate heights! What the hell are you doing up there?  

Gray: It’s not really that bad.

Lyon: Bitch, you wouldn’t even come up the gondola with us in Jasper last year, don’t tell me the EIFFEL TOWER is ‘not really that bad.’

Gray: attachment.jpg

Gray: I couldn’t come to Paris and not go up here. The view is really nice!

Lyon: Is the view the city, or that guy’s ass?

 Gray scowls, looking back at the photo he’d sent Lyon. Natsu’s in it, leaning against the railing and staring down at the lights flickering across Paris. He’s smiling, cheeks pink from the cold, chin tucked into his scarf.

It’s Gray’s favorite picture.  

Gray’s about to text Lyon and tell him to fuck the hell off when someone appears behind him, covering his eyes and laughing. It’s Natsu, of course, and Gray nearly melts back against him, catching himself at the last minute and grabbing Natsu’s wrists instead.

“Whatcha doin’?” Natsu asks, peeking over Gray’s shoulder at his phone. Gray quickly closes the message window and shoves the phone back into his pocket.

“Texting my brother,” he says quickly, turning around. “He…” Gray trails off as he stares at Natsu, who looks… gorgeous. He’s wearing a dark blue button-down under a black sports jacket, open at the collar to show off the tattoo running up the side of his neck. He’s changed out of his ripped jeans and into darker pants that are much more fitted and has traded his combat boots for dress shoes. He’s even sort of tamed his wild hair.

“Told you I can clean up,” Natsu says, grinning and bopping Gray on the nose.

Gray can’t stop staring. “Are you wearing eyeliner?” he asks eventually. It’s the stupidest question he could have asked, but Natsu doesn’t seem to mind.

“Yep.”

It looks amazing on him – his eyes are even brighter green when they’re rimmed with black, and Gray’s fairly certain he’s wearing lip gloss, too.

Fuck, Gray thinks. I’m so screwed.

“You look pretty good too,” Natsu says, reaching out and brushing something off the collar of Gray’s sweater. Natsu’s fingers brush his neck and Gray bites back the undignified sound that tries to escape him. “Think we’re presentable enough for Christmas Eve dinner at Ciel de Paris?” 

~

Ciel de Paris is the most romantic restaurant Gray has ever been to. Everything is sleek and modern – mood lights on the ceiling, a long, curved bar in the center, and tables lining the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlook the Eiffel Tower.

Everything on the menu is wildly unfamiliar – they both raise eyebrows at each other as they read over items like déclinaison de foie gras and l’excellence ïodée. Eventually Gray orders them both a glass of wine and something called torteaux Saint Jacques as a starter and hopes for the best.

“You doing okay?” Natsu nudges Gray’s foot under the table and Gray blinks, realizing he’s been staring again. Natsu’s eyes are bright as he stares at Gray over the rim of his wine glass, then tips his head to the window. They’re sitting right next to it, and Gray’s been trying his best to not think about the almost seven-hundred-foot drop to the ground below.

“Yeah,” he says, keeping his hand steady enough to take another sip of his wine. He’s not as scared as he’d been when they were up the Eiffel Tower, and he’s not sure if it’s the alcohol making him brave, or the fact that he’s sitting across from the most gorgeous person he’s ever been on a date with.

Is this a date? God, he wants it to be.

“Hey.” Natsu reaches across the table slowly and takes Gray’s hand in his, squeezing gently. “Don’t look out there. Look at me.”

I can definitely do that, Gray thinks as he nods.

“It’s not that bad,” he says, trying to keep his voice steady. “I’m… okay.”

“Why the hell you made reservations at a seven-hundred-foot-tall restaurant when you’re terrified of heights is beyond me,” Natsu teases. “This girl must’ve been pretty special.”

There’s something in Natsu’s voice that Gray can’t quite place. He sets down his wine glass, then shakes his head.

“I thought she was,” he says, staring down at the tattooed dragon that curls across Natsu’s hand and over his index finger. “But, uh…” He looks back up at Natsu, who’s still gazing at Gray over his wine glass, expression uncertain. “I’m glad I’m with you,” Gray says in a rush, putting more emphasis on the ‘you’ than is strictly necessary.

Natsu looks surprised, then bites his lip and looks down at their hands, slowly running his thumb over Gray’s knuckles.

“Me too,” he says softly. “Best Christmas I’ve had in… well, ever.”

Gray swallows, feeling heat creep up to his cheeks as they stare at each other, still holding hands.

The appearance of the waiter with their food breaks the moment, and Gray lets go of Natsu’s hand reluctantly while they both inspect the dish in front of them. Natsu frowns at it, then looks up at Gray and raises his eyebrow.

“This is probably going to make me sound like the most uncultured person in the world,” Natsu says, picking up his fork and poking at the food, “but I have no idea what this is.”

Gray’s about to reply that he doesn’t either when Natsu scoops up a bit of what looks like fish eggs and raises and eyebrow at it suspiciously. Then he grins at Gray and holds out the fork for him. A hot flush immediately creeps up the back of Gray’s neck at the intimate gesture, but he sets his wine glass down and leans forward, taking the bite. He’s pretty sure Natsu’s cheeks are pink, too.

“How is it?” Natsu asks, and Gray isn’t talking about the food when he answers, “Amazing.”

It’s only been seven days and Gray’s never kissed a boy, but Gray’s one hundred percent certain he’s in love.

[wafflelate]

Could I request some nice interaction between Shisui and Kako? Any verse. Work this week was UGH I want to read something cute and funny and Those Two are the best.

lmao i started writing something else for this this morning and it was so sad and serious i had to start something else for you instead

shadows under water verse! that’s the one where Shikako is born the same age as Shisui.

here is a short tale about a D-rank and probably the fluffiest thing i’ve written

word count: 1420

                   ————————————

“There are lots of chakra tricks you can practice while we do D-ranks,” Amano-sensei tells them. The next morning they’re due for their first mission, which Amano has already selected for them.

“My sensei was a fan of taking any D-rank that would make us water-walk,” Amano goes on. “We’re not up to that point yet, of course, but I have a quick trick to teach you that you’ll find useful for this mission.”

Shisui can see Shikako-chan lean forward just a little. She loves chakra tricks, he’s noticed — already he’s caught her at about ten of them, half of which he’s never even heard of before. The most impressive one was the one with the water, but she’d called it ‘basically useless’ even while changing a sphere of contained water into a cube and then a pyramid and back in an amazing show of control. Shikako-chan is very curious and very knowledgeable and very humble.

“This is the great secret of the Hyuuga clan,” Amano adds in that totally-serious way he has of being not serious at all. Uzume-ba says he got that tone from playing devil’s advocate for all the interpersonal client drama they’d stirred up on their C-ranks.

(Shisui can’t wait for their first C-rank, although he thinks Muta will be the one playing devil’s advocate and Shikako will watch like Aburame Shibi had. This Team 4 isn’t exactly like the last Team 4. And that’s good, because Yūhi-sensei was a real dick and a bad teacher, although Shisui is never supposed to say that out loud.)

Shisui flickers his Sharingan on to watch Amano-sensei’s chakra trick. His teammates watch closely, each in their own way — Shikako with her sensing, Muta with a faint buzzing noise.

“Tell me what it does,” Amano-sensei says, because he also needs them to learn how to gather intelligence on unknown techniques.

Shisui knows what it is the moment he starts using it, so he keeps his mouth shut like a good student. Muta and Shikako will enjoy investigating more than being given the answer. And it’s fun to watch them decide things like this, because they work off each other and they do it a lot different than Shisui would.

“It… surrounds you with chakra,” Shikako says. She sounds frustrated, like she can’t believe that’s the only thing she can tell with her chakra sense. Shikako-chan has really high standards for herself.

“So it’s not localized,” Muta says, and he doesn’t glance at Shikako or anything, but Shisui knows he said that only to make sure Shikako would know she’s provided him with information he likely wouldn’t otherwise have. “It also repelled the bug I had on sensei, and my kikaichu cannot land again, although it can feed.”

Both incredulous and uncertain, Shikako asks, “Amano-sensei, is this the first step of Kaiten?”

Amano blinks at her. “How do you even know about that?” he asks.

“What’s Kaiten?” asks Shisui.

(Of course Shikako-chan knows — all she did in the Academy was read. She maybe knows everything.)

“Are you allowed to teach us this?” Shikako blurts out, and then immediately her shoulders shrink again. Shisui gets the impression she was just trying to keep from having to answer where she’d learned what she knows.

Amano-sensei clearly thinks the same thing because he just gives her that secretly amused look he gets when Uzume-ba thinks she’s successfully stirred him into starting an argument she wanted to have but didn’t want to initiate.

“It’s a high-level Hyuuga technique that I don’t know how to do,” Amano says. “This is just a chakra trick to keep yourself clean. If you get really good at it, the transition to the scent-hiding technique is very easy.”

“Ah,” says Muta. “This is how you were clean after your spar with Uzume-sensei.”

Amano nods. “It’s a pretty common Hyuuga trick but it’s not clan knowledge or anything. If you can cover your entire body including anything you’re wearing, it works as a good stopgap for airborne and contact poisons. Unless you breathe in.”

Shikako’s eyes have lit up, her shoulders straightened out. She likes opportunities to learn new things, especially non-Nara things.Shisui’s not really sure what the deal is with her clan — isn’t she clan heir? — but he’s glad she got a kickass team to support her ambitious curiousity.

“We’ll practice this today and tomorrow you’ll have a chance to test it out in a controlled environment,” Amano says. “I’m sure you’ll all pick it up quickly.”

He activates his Byakugan and uses it to watch their progress, to tell them how to move their chakra. He tests them with little handfuls of dirt, too, probably just to be a jerk.

In the morning, they meet at Hironobu’s bakery and are surprised to find that their breakfasts are on the house.

“Oh, didn’t I mention?” Amano-sensei says. “Akimichi Hironobu is our first client.”

Shisui cheers and throws his hands up. Muta and Shikako don’t do either, but he can tell from the way Muta straightens and Shikako leans back, relaxed, that they’re really happy too. Or, he’s definitely sure about Shikako. Muta is probably happy, but maybe is just aiming to be vigilant about the details of their first mission.

As far as missions go, it’s kind of an awesome one.

“We’re rolling and cutting dough!” Hironobu announces. “My wife’s cousin Uchikatsu is getting married and wants a selection of cookies instead of a cake, but all my usual extra workers are busy with other wedding things.”

What follows is a crash course in baking a variety of rolled cookies, starting with basics like keeping the dough chilled and rolling it out evenly. Hironobu quickly reveals the reason Amano had taught them this new chakra trick: they’ll be rolling with powdered sugar and cocoa powder

It’s messy and it’s fun. They all have different cookie cutter shapes, and Shisui scores the butterfly.

“It’s an insect,” Muta says. He seems to be looking hard at Shisui behind his glasses.

Shisui clutches the cookie cutter. “It’s mine, client’s orders,” he says.

“But it’s the best one,” Muta says.

“Yes,” Shisui agrees, and doesn’t give it over. He gives the boar to Muta because he’s so stubborn about his bug theme and gives the deer to Shikako because obviously. Amano-sensei is helping, too, but he’s on dough-fetching and oven-watching duty, so he doesn’t get a cookie cutter.

“Ah…” Shikako says when they turn to their cookie cutting stations. She’s looking down at her deer cookie cutter. Shoulders hunched. Does not continue whatever she was thinking about saying.

Red alert! Red alert!

Shisui sighs theatrical, because over exaggerating the exchange is better than trying to minimize it. “You want the butterfly, too, huh Shikako-chan?” he says. “My one true treasure in this world? The only worthwhile thing I’ve ever held in my entire life? You’d ask that of me?”

“Shisui, you’ve only had it for about two minutes,” Muta says, sounding irritated but in the good way — like Amano gets irritated when Uzume does something dramatic and loud that he secretly finds hilarious.

“Love has no concept of time,” Shisui informs him. “But… in the spirit of teamwork… and since Shikako-chan is my favorite teammate…”

(“Thanks,” Muta says. Shisui beams at him, but then resumes his tragic character.)

“…you should have it, and I will just suffer through my feelings from a distance,” Shisui finishes, holding the butterfly cookie cutter out to Shikako.

He gets a smile from her, and a little laugh. A laugh! They swap deer for butterfly and get to work, Amano-sensei calling out to them when he sees their new chakra trick wavering. To Shisui’s surprised, Shikako is best at it — or maybe it’s not a surprise at all, given how often he’s seen her passing the time trying to fold paper with just her chakra, or get a marble to stick to her skin but slide around under the control of gravity.

At the end of the mission only Amano-sensei is spotless and they’ve made a mountain of cookies and each of them is given a small package of cookies to take home in addition to the money they’ll make. Amano will bring his to Uzume-ba’s house, but Shisui stops by the Uchiha clan orphanage house with his package.

Shisui is a real shinobi with a real team that he even enjoys taking D-ranks with. He’s gotta spread that good luck around as much as possible, because the clan needs it.

[crzcorgi]

Changes

John Winchester Love Week fanfiction

John Winchester x Reader (Y/N) eventually

Words~1800

Warnings ~ language

What happens when a stay at an ordinary motel turns extraordinary?

 I was afraid to go to sleep. Yes, a grown man fucking scared of his dreams. Dreams that have haunted me since that day. Dreams of her, my wife, my boys mother. The woman who was ripped from our lives, from our hearts, by some unknown entity, a monster. That I swore I would hunt down even if it takes me a lifetime.

 Revenge, it’s what fueled me. That and keepin’ my boys safe. Safe from things out there that until my Mary’s death I never knew existed. They were after us, I didn’t know why, but I knew it. My Dean, my Sammy, Mary’s boys, I had to keep them safe.

 So here I sat at the rickety motel table, pouring myself another whiskey, and trying to drink the nightmares away. Every night, those dreams never giving me a rest.

   “Dad?”

 “Whatta you doing’ up Dean? Go back to sleep buddy, you’ve got school in the morning.”

 He walked over to me, shuffling his bare feet. God help me if he didn’t look a bit more like Mary every time I looked at him. He came over and just looked up at me from under his eyelashes. “I had a bad dream again.”

 Fuck.

 It’s one thing for me to go through this living nightmare. But my boy, Jesus, God, Mary, whoever is listening, why do my boys have to suffer? I sighed.

“Come here son.”

 He walked closer to me, close enough for me to pick him up in my arms. I pulled him tightly to my chest, his head snuggling under my chin. I slowly rubbed my hand up and down his back, placing a kiss on the top of his head.

 “I miss momma.”

 Shit

 “I do too buddy. I do too.”

  After awhile I realized he had fallen asleep, I slowly  stood up and carried him across the room. I carefully placed him back beside his little brother in their shared bed. I hesitated, just watching them sleep. I then climbed in beside my oldest, his arm coming up and draping over me.

 Maybe this could be a restful, dreamless, night.

  “Daddy! Daddy!!”

 I woke up to a bright light and a tiny body sitting on my chest.

 “You gots to get up, De gotta go!” Sammy was now poking at my face. I reached down and began tickling his sides, little peals of laughter coming forth from him. Between giggles he spoke, “Daddy! Stop Daddy, you gots to get weady!”

 I picked him up, placing him beside me as I sat up. “Alright dude, I’m up. Can you get dressed on your own?”

 “I’s fwee” He held up 4 fingers, contemplating if that was right. “I knows how to get dwessed!” He sounded indignant, making me silently snicker.

 I stood up, walking to towards the bathroom. Reaching the doorway, I saw the door was open and no Dean to be seen.

 I turned to see Sammy rummaging through his duffle. “Sammy, do you know where your brother is?” It wasn’t like him to disappear, he knew he had to ask permission before leaving the room.

 “He says not to tell you, but…” He wouldn’t look at me.

 Damn it Dean.

 “Sammy, it’s okay, you can tell me bud.”

 “He needs to do somefing for school. The nice lady in da ofwice is helping him.”

 Shit, he needs to tell me these things.

 “Okay, son, can you get dressed and stay here until I get back? I’ll lock the door. Maybe put on a cartoon?”

 “I cans do dat Daddy!”

 I hurried out the door, making sure it was locked, taking off for the office. Reaching the door, I opened it, stepping inside to an empty room.

 “Hello?” No answer. I walked up to the counter and rang the bell.  I turned to look out the window, swinging back around when I heard the shifting of the curtain hanging behind the desk.

   “I’m so sorry, I’m kinda busy back there, I don’t usually leave the desk, just helping a little…”

  Suddenly Dean appeared from behind the curtain, interrupting the woman. “Dad, I’m sorry, don’t be mad. Miss y/n was just helping me with my school project that’s due today.”

 I wanted to be mad, wanted to grab my boy and take him back to our room and ream him out. But I couldn’t. I was fucking mesmerized by this woman standing here. She had long y/h/c, beautiful y/e/c and a smile that made me wanna smile right back.

 Fuck.

 “Mr. Winchester, correct? I’m sorry, I thought you knew Dean was here. I volunteer in his classroom and offered to help him with his project. I do apologize.” She looked at me and I fucking melted.

I was in trouble.

 Dean stepped around the desk carrying what looked like an odd shaped box. “It’s a pyramid Dad! Y/N helped me make it.”

 I looked away from my unabashed starring to take a hold of Dean’s “pyramid” “Nice job buddy, did you thank Mrs…?”

 “He did, he’s a very polite young man. And it’s just y/n, and I’m not married.” I was smiling at her like a fucking teenager. Shit, I can’t do this. But there was something about her, the unexplained draw towards her, I’d never felt it before.

 I cleared my throat, “Well, thank you, y/n, very much. I, uh, my job, it makes it hard for me to, uh, help Dean with his schoolwork.” I couldn’t stop smiling at her. “So, really, thank you, it’s very much, um, appreciated.”

  “It’s no trouble at all Mr. Winchester, I understand all about a job keeping you from your children.” She looked down, her demeanor quickly switching, “all too well.”

 I missed her smile. “Just call me John,” She looked up at me, her beautiful smile returning. “Dean, lets go pick up Sammy and get you to school.”

 Dean turned and ran over to y/n, his arms sliding around her, giving her a tight hug. “Thank you y/n.”  Seeing my boy hugging a woman other than my Mary, his mom, fuck, I didn’t know what I was thinking, it was a mix of emotions. But the one that seemed to be most dominant wasn’t anger or sadness, which if I witnessed this a month ago would have been the definite answer. No, it was a feeling of warmth, something that felt like hopefulness. Something like home.

  “Okay Dean, you go get your baby brother.” She had moved her hands up to lightly grasp his head, placing a gentle kiss on the crown. Dean turned, starting to walk away. “Oh wait!” She gasped out. “I’m heading to the school in just a bit, would you like to ride with me Dean? If your dad says it’s okay?” She smiled at me, her head tipping to the side slightly.

 “Can I dad, please?” Dean looked up at me, giving me his brother’s patented puppy dog eyes.  

 “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” I looked over to y/n, watching her smile fade. And feeling like shit. I just couldn’t trust, not even someone that affected me the way she seemed to. But I’m sure she just thought I was a jackass.

  “Aww, come on dad!”

  “It’s okay Dean, I’ll see you at school anyway!” She tried to smile, I’m sure for his sake.

  “Okay.” He answered in a gruff tone, pushing past me and out the door.  

 “Dean! Don’t give your dad a hard time!” She yelled after him, sighing. “I’m sorry John.”  

 I wasn’t sure what to say it felt kinda awkward. “Uh, thanks for that, it’s just,” She had walked around the desk and was now standing beside me, her small hand landing on my arm.

  “It’s okay, I get it.” The way she looked at me, it was like we were sharing a secret. It confused me. Did she know what I did? But how could she? Did Dean slip up? No, he wouldn’t. One thing I was sure of, I was enjoying her warm hand on my arm more than I should have.

 Removing her hand from my arm she looked at me and smiled. “You need to grab your boys and I need to see where my sister is. Please tell Dean that he did a wonderful job on his pyramid and I will let Ms. Smith how hard he worked on it.”

 I grinned, I know I didn’t let him know nearly enough, but I was damn proud of that boy. He’s been through so much in his short life and yet he perseveres. Most days I feel like the shittiest fuck-up of a parent, the life I’ve forced my boys into. Yeah, I can blame that monster that took their mom. But the end of the day it’s my decision, my choice. So listening to y/n praise him, it meant I might be doing something right in how I’m teachin’ them.

  “Yeah, yes, I gotta go, but um, thank you again. It’s much appreciated. I don’t know if Dean told you but it’s just us men, their mom, my wife, she…” I choked up, trying not to get fucking emotional in front of her.

 “It’s okay John, I understand, truly.” She had stepped closer again, no hand on me this time, but a sad smile, and a look of understanding. “Hey, I don’t know what your plans are, or where your job will take you today. But I have a stew in the crock pot and I know it is way too much for just my sis and me, maybe you and your boys can join us? It’s not much but it’ll get you men out of that tiny room, not that our apartment is that much bigger.” She giggled, making me feel warm.

 My brain wanted to decline her kind offer. But my mouth had other plans and I just fucking blurted out, “Yeah, that sounds great, I’m sure Sammy would love something besides spaghettios. And Dean would wanna kick my ass if I said no.”

 “Great! I’ll be back by 4 so come on over anytime after that. If for some reason I’m not here, my sister will be.”

 I started walking towards the door. “Thank you again, y/n.”

 “No need to keep thanking me, John. Dean’s a great kid, I love spending time with him.” She moved right into my side, making me suck in a big breath. “Between you and me, most 8 year olds annoy the heck out of me, and I work with them!” She laughed, sending a chill throughout my body. “But Dean, he’s mature beyond his years, but still a kid, you know?”

 I nodded, once again feeling proud of my boy. “Well, I guess we’ll see you later then.”

 “You have a good day, John. And find yourself a bronze dagger.” She winked, turning and walking behind the desk and through the curtain.

 And left me standing there with my mouth open.

[radenkan]

Trap

Dark

While light space is eliminated by the materiality of objects, darkness is “filled,” it touches the individual directly, envelops him, penetrates him, and even passes through him: hence “the ego is permeable for darkness while it is not so for light”; the feeling of mystery that one experiences at night would not come from anything else.

it [] kept me standing for a long while motionless in the dark. laying before my eyes this mysterious scenes of an existence into which I might not penetrate. [58]

In death we are reduced to our name alone, fragile, weightless, fleeting, defenceless, covered over by the customary handful of dirt. [61]

the earth [above me] tremble, but i saw no other effect. [62]

The rest of my dull hours [...] found their only recompense in nostalgia dreaming for my transcendent lover, in whose house, curled up, I used to live on land. [66]

Void

[…] Fascinated and disoriented by [1] the void

I try to move. [2]

imagining that my body set in motion

would go on moving in a straight line to infinity[3]

but the laws of physics [4]

Forbid all type of rational movement into vacuum

Nothing creates itself, nothing halts itself:

the flux of atoms is inert. [5]

The Astronaut […] is floating in space like a fetus in amniotic fluid, [6]

an absurd, strange and disoriented creature who wanders about continually,

deaf and blind. [7]

Like the ship: it is a floating part of space,

a placeless place,

that lives by itself,

closed in on itself

and at the same time poised in the infinite ocean, [8]

My only source of matter is in me

emerging from my own shell or drowning in the […] waves,

I am nothing but an empty space […]

I am empty space […] [15]

a thing’s own nature standing alone unrelated to anything else is enough ground for calling it existent,

but not enough for calling it good. [16]

I felt different, I was submerged [43] in museum full of complicated objects [57], I was weightless, strong, capable of everything,

I would start with Brown’s deliciously weightless grand battement. [44] Just about to do it the overwhelming weight of pressure “objectif[ied] me … as a prop,” [44]

making the figure weighty, not weightless, grounding the dance in the actuality of the stage’s apparatus. His suspension and motion were taken up by and paralleled in the set,[…] “understand[ing of] the weight of objects moving,”[44]

the device that I now grasped was a liberating extension of my […] body. [44]

“Or maybe ‘suspension’ is the better word,” since what mattered was not the motion but “how he stayed […]”. This effort at suspension [is reflected in] a fantasy in exorcising movement, because movement implies destruction of the shape, both in the novel and the film.[27]

The mind must be wholly set free from other thoughts, and at least at the moment of its flight from earth must bestow itself in self contemplation.[28]

emerging from my own shell or drowning in the […] waves,

But there are an infinite number of paths in this […] space

Light

But he seems now to see an inextinguishable light begin to shine from the darkness behind the door.

[The door] opened and let out the blinding light [21]

I drew the various ways the light could go as double straight lines

I simply let myself slide into it. [11]

stiff as an icicle [12]

had been unable to refrain from moving about and talking, no longer had any stability, any centre of gravity; I had been set in motion and it seemed that I might have continued on my dreary course until I reached the moon.

It is a place of weak and distended sensations,

few and far between emotions, discreet and mysterious like a large space lit by a bed lamp. [57]

The life led by the inhabitants of this unknown place must, it seemed to me, be a thing of wonder. It [...] kept me standing for a long while motionless in the dark. Laying before my eyes this mysterious scenes of an existence into which I might not penetrate. [58]

None of the elements kept its shape, and all were in conflict inside one body: the cold with the hot, the wet with the dry, the soft with the hard, and weight with the weightless. [59]

I can’t tell this thing where I am. [60]

The movement maintained in suspended animation upon the walls of my sweet cocoon. [63]

Distortion

In west the dimensionless black hole and formless white wall are already there to begin with. [35]While the effect of distortion is more considerable in the south wall, not only because it leans and twists, so that proportions worked out on a flat sheet of paper cannot apply, but because the pyramidal window embrasures make an uncoordinated array of anamorphic perspective boxes, collapsing and stretching the perception of [my and the rooms] relative size. [37

I almost wish I hadn’t gone down that rabbit hole—and yet—and yet—it’s rather curious, you know, this sort of life! [38]

12 feet tall, circling the room for 235 feet [is Sheldrake]. [40]

The Sheldrake feeds on the sands left uncovered by the tide, and when a worm cast is discovered, “ it begins patting the “ground with its feet, dancing as it were, over the “ hole; ” and this makes the worm come to the surface. [41] He now changed himself into a worm, and crept in at the hole ; […] plunged the drill in after him, but missed him. [42]

[americanahighways]

Billy Strings Streaming Tour 2020 — photos by Jesse Faatz Photography;

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Billy Strings continued the 2020 Streaming Strings tour Wednesday night, sliding into a new venue, this time, the City Winery in Nashville. Having played two shows at the Station Inn, and prior to that, two more at the Brooklyn Bowl, it would seem that Apostol and his merry band of pickers have basically owned Nashville the past week. The music has been furiously inspired and the assembled special guests have simply been out of sight. This is one of the most fascinating bands in any genre right now to my way of thinking. For sure, they’re one of the most innovative and clever bands playing, and their ability to play this caliber music night after night is just insane to think about. Despite months off the road, it really seems the band has gelled back together rather effortlessly, and through these livestreams, given us an opportunity to watch it happen. So, lets take a look at the shows from the City Winery.

Wednesday night had the boys well rested (I assume), and roaring to go. On Monday night, Apostl had returned the favor to his friend, and sat in with Marcus King’s band for a couple of songs. With the venue change, there was also a different stream. Tonight’s streaming provider moved over to Nugs, and with an archive of shows under their belt, Hopes were high. Unfortunately, I had difficulties connecting, and missed the opening “I’m Still Here,” coming in after the segue into “Last Train to Clarksville> “Running.” Almost immediately, it was apparent there wasn’t an ounce of momentum lost from the days off. “Everything’s the Same” was a barely contained fire, threatening, but curiously kind of restrained. The foundations of the songs and the solos were tight, and the jams transitioning between certainly were spacey, but they were also noticeably structured. Things seem somewhat reminiscent to the last night at the Station Inn. Best part for me through the first set was watching Jarrod Walker pickin’ that mandolin like a madman all over the place. Just check out “There Is a Time” and Leftover Salmon’s “Down In The Hollow.” Even better, we’ve even seen Royal Masset rumble out a turn in the solo rotation during “Doing Things Right.” Together, Walker and Massett have seemingly joined forces this evening, carving out a funky piece of real estate all for themselves. Billy throws out a loving nod to his late pal Jeff Austin with cunning “Rundown,” before the set closing “Black Clouds” rolls in, and breaks down into epic status. Billy switches to an electric tone and pushes and nudges the envelope of psychedelia menacingly before handing off the controls to Billy Failing. “Failing” sets the controls for the sun, digging in on that five string banjo like no other. “Failing” is fun to watch, and particularly fun to see evolve. I’ve always been a banjo guy, and Failing is quickly becoming one I look to first to fill that need. The “Black Clouds” was one of my favorite versions to date and one hell of a way to close a first set.

Set two never skips a step, getting underway with“On the Line> ”Train 45.” They’re on tonight, and they know it. Walker got my vote for line of the night following the opening duo of songs by uttering: “Sir, don’t rush the stage”. Get it? Empty venue……anyway. Billy seems to really be enjoying the electric tone tonight, dropping it in prominently through a hot run-through of Widespread Panic’s“All Time Low”>”Midnight on the Highway” (Hot Rize). A nearly perfectly rendered “Sitting Here in Limbo” gives Royal another chance to shine, and ends up being one of my favorite cuts of the night. The traditional “Blue Mule” led to a bold and adventurous “Highway Hypnosis” that still has me thinking about it days later. Joining the festivities tonight, was Fruition’s Mimi Naja. Naja lent her talents for a tetrad of first-time played songs. First, Flatt & Scuggs’ “Don’t This Road Look Rough and Rocky?” then her own “Labor of Love”. Finally, they wrapped up the night with Gillian Welch’s “Caleb Meyer” and another dose of Jeff Austin love with “15 Steps.” A really solid show, start to finish, and a lot of fun.

7/22/2020 Billy Strings City Winery – Nashville, TN Set 1:

I’m Still Here > Last Train to Clarksville > Running > Everything’s the Same There is a Time Down in the Hollow Doin’ Things Right Rundown (Thanks to Jeff Austin) Black Clouds

Set 2: On the Line > Train 45 All Time Low > Midnight on the Highway Sitting Here in Limbo Blue Mule Highway Hypnosis Don’t This Road Look Rough And Rocky (1) Labor of Love (1) Caleb Meyer (1)(2) 15 Steps (1) (1) with Mimi Naja (2) FTP

Night two at the City Winery Nashville blew a bunch of minds, man. It also assuredly broke a few dreams of a no-repeat nine show run. Okay, I admit it, I was kinda bummed when the opening notes of “While I’m Waiting Here ” sounded, but c’mon. First of all, it’s a great song, and besides, what other band, so early in their career, can play 5 shows, 112 songs, at such ridiculous intensity and not have one repeat? I mean, that’s not just impressive, it’s down right nuts! On another note, I again had considered that maybe it wasn’t just “user error.” Apparently there were lots of issues, but like they say, the show must go on. I missed the the opening “Pike County Breakdown,” maybe an estimated five or six minutes of it, depending on how long they jammed out the song, Instead, I came in within the transition into the “How You Feeling Jam.” I probably didn’t miss much, but with this band, you just don’t know, and it’s worth it to absorb every minute you can. The nutty thing is, it’s completely understandable given the circumstances. The situation is fluid friends, with everyone still getting their stage legs under them, the stream providers as well. Still, I hope it gets figured out. But enough about that, we’re staying positive, and why wouldn’t we? Already, it’s apparent that Failing is on point tonight based on some epic early runs. Jim & Jesse’s “Airmail Special” dropped some heavy psychedelia with Billy swapping in that electric tone he was digging the previous night. Next up was that no repeat dream crushing, “While I’m Waiting Here.” Truthfully, it never gave you time to dwell on it, instead drawing you in as it puts on display just how much fun the guys are having tonight. Walker and Massat are steady in their roles, lighting a path for the others, and often times cutting the trail themselves. They’re in good moods, and Billy alludes to just that, comparing it to watching five episodes of Bob Ross. With the repeat barrier removed, they roll out “Long Forgotten Dream” before giving me all kinds of reasons to smile with robust version of the Hunter/Garcia classic “Dire Wolf.” The trippy explorations returned in a fiery “Dust in a Baggie” before “Enough to Leave’s” borders expanded to straddle a line somewhere between bluegrass and jazz. An adventurous “Home of the Red Fox” merged into a bold rollicking “Ole Slewfoot.” Just like that, this might be my favorite first set of the run. I guess we’ll see.

Set two began with a fun extended teas of “Uncle John’s Beard” a rousing “Must Be 7”, and an absolutely beautiful “Wild Horses.” Gordon Lightfoot’s “Cold on the Shoulder” (ala Tony Rice) and Billy’s own “Hollow Heart” were up next, before I got completely caught up in hypnotic spell that was the band’s take on Dylan’s “Señor (Tales of Yankee Power).” Seriously? That just happened? How do you follow that?Well, one sure way is to invite Greensky Bluegrass’ Dave Bruzza onstage. Bruzza dueled a little guitar and lead the band through a trio of Greensky songs, “Letter to Seymour,” an especially memorable “Reverend”as well as “Wings For Wheels.” Dave stuck around for the remainder of the set too, starting with Hartford’s “Get No Better” before all the fellas unleashed a filthy, tease filled “Pyramid Country” that nearly deified belief. Bill Monroe’s “Roll On Buddy” emerged from the other side, and just like that we came back to earth. Can’t wait to see what the Exit/Inn has in store for us Friday and Saturday finally wrapping things up on Sunday at 3rd & Lindsley. We all know that old adage, Never miss a Sunday show!

7/23/2020 Billy Strings City Winery – Nashville, TN

Set 1: Pike County Breakdown > How You Feeling Jam > Airmail Special While I’m Waiting Here Long Forgotten Dream Dire Wolf (1) Dust in a Baggie Enough to Leave Home of the Red Fox > Ole Slewfoot

Set 2:

Uncle John’s Beard (1) Must be Seven Wild Horses Cold on the Shoulder Hollow Heart Señor (Tales of Yankee Power) Letter to Seymour (2) Reverend (2) Wings For Wheels (2) Get No Better (1)(2) Pyramid Country (2)(3)(4)> Roll on Buddy (1) FTP (2) with Dave Bruzza (3) Don’t Lie tease (4) Kerosene tease

Grasping a huge handful of integrity for the traditions, it’s pure joy watching the faces when it’s all clicking. Find more here:  http://www.billystrings.com

I’d like to call out the Billy Strings Setlist page on Facebook. For someone still learning all the songs in the repertoire as well as the history behind them, it’s been a valuable resource and a friendly spot to drop in and research.. Thanks for doing what you do. Additionally, the Billy Strings Fanpage (Official) on Facebook is equally vital, and a fun growing community.

Show Review: Billy Strings Nine-Night Streaming Tour 2020, Part 2 @billystrings #americanamusic #livestreamtour Billy Strings Streaming Tour 2020 -- photos by Jesse Faatz Photography; Billy Strings continued the 2020 Streaming Strings tour Wednesday night, sliding into a new venue, this time, the City Winery in Nashville.

[warninggraphiccontent]

26 June 2020

We're jammin'

Back in 2018 (remember 2018? simpler times), a number of us from the IfG, some of our friends from Full Fact and Nick Halliday spent 90 minutes trying to map the government data ecosystem. That is, we had lots of pinpoint cards and scribbled the names of organisations that had some sort of responsibility for data in government on them.

You can find that original effort here. It was a bit rough and ready, we never turned it into anything beautiful, but it was useful for understanding the data landscape across government (and more than supporting our hunch that one of the challenges of data in government is the multiplicity of meanings of 'data' and the proliferation of players involved).

Just over two years on, and with a National Data Strategy expected later this year, I thought it was time to revisit the map. Since we can't physically come together around some post-its, I've turned the old 'map' into a series of slides using Google Jamboard (the first time I've used it). Please do take a look - and add, copy, edit, remix, amend as you see fit (within the parameters suggested on the first slide, of course).

We know lots of people found the original helpful for navigating government data - I hope this one can be even more useful.

And if you're in a collaborative mood, I'm always looking for additions to the following open spreadsheets:

Reports related to data in UK government

A 'data' reading list

Data-related developments in the UK's coronavirus response.

Briefly:

If you can't get enough of the words 'jam' and 'data' being juxtaposed, then you must check out DataJam North East...

...and if you can't enough of public sector-related data meet-ups, then we have a fantastic Data Bites for you this Wednesday, 1 July at 6pm. Register here. Previous events here. It's an admin data special courtesy of ADR UK.

Have a good weekend

Gavin

Today's links:

Tips, tech, etc

Will Covid kill off the office?* (The Spectator)

Don’t expect a flexible work revolution (HR Magazine)

Make video conferencing tools work across government (GDS, via Oliver)

#dontgobacktonormal

Graphic content

Viral content

COVID-19 VACCINE TRACKER (Milken Institute)

How the Virus Won* (New York Times)

An expanding epidemic (Reuters)

Coronavirus (COVID-19) in the UK (GOV.UK)

Coronavirus: How does the UK's death toll compare with other countries? (BBC News)

Revealed: data shows 10 countries risking coronavirus second wave as lockdown relaxed (The Guardian)

Coronavirus in the U.S.: Latest Map and Case Count* (New York Times)

How Somalis in east London were hit by the pandemic (FT)

Understanding excess deaths: variation in the impact of COVID-19 between countries, regions and localities (Health Foundation)

Rainy days (Resolution Foundation)

Air pollution rebounds in Europe’s cities as lockdowns ease* (FT Data)

What are the symptoms of COVID-19? Only 59% of Britons know all three (YouGov)

The government's daily Coronavirus briefings (Oliver for IfG)

Viral content: consequences

Summer brings hope and fear to Britain’s beaches and seaside towns* (FT)

Corona Shock – June* (Tortoise)

Prospering in the pandemic: the top 100 companies* (FT)

Scandinavian and Asian countries are on the way to normal everyday work - economic recovery in real time (Neue Zurcher Zeitung)

The last three months of Citizens Advice data (Gemma)

UK government and politics

Labour councils in England hit harder by austerity than Tory areas (The Guardian)

Dominic Cummings could face inquiry over special advisers (The Guardian)

Freedom of information; civil service staff numbers (IfG, now updated)

Environment and energy

UK and global emissions and temperature trends (Commons Library)

PIPE DOWN: How gas companies influence EU policy and have pocketed €4 billion of taxpayers’ money (Global Witness)

AMAZON GOLD RUSH: The threatened tribe (Reuters)

Sport and leisure

Why Jürgen Klopp’s Liverpool are on cusp of Premier League glory* (FT)

Pyramid scheme: This should have been the week of Glastonbury at 50 – will music festivals ever make a comeback?* (Tortoise)

Everything else

Seventy-five years after the UN’s founding, the world order is at risk of collapse* (The Economist)

The Human Genome Project transformed biology and medicine* (The Economist)

The N.Y.P.D. Spends $6 Billion a Year. Proposals to Defund It Want to Cut $1 Billion.* (New York Times)

Where Banks Don’t Lend (WBEZ)

Mapping London’s ethnic diversity (Niko Kommenda - though note this)

Aid Transparency Index 2020 (Publish What You Fund)

Thread (David McNair)

Trump vs Biden: who is leading the 2020 US election polls?* (FT)

What to consider when visualizing data for colorblind readers (Datawrapper)

Meta data

Viral content: contact details

Coronavirus recovery - six data protection steps for organisations (ICO)

The data rules for reopening pubs and restaurants... (me)

Concerns raised about pubs collecting data for coronavirus tracing (New Scientist)

Businesses face privacy minefield over contact-tracing rules, say campaigners (The Guardian)

The UK needs a track-and-trace system we can trust with our data (Institute for Global Change)

Viral content: I call app Britain (and elsewhere)

Google and Apple's diktat to governments on coronavirus contact-tracing apps is a troubling display of unaccountable power (Tom Loosemore for Business Insider)

The UK’s contact tracing app fiasco is a master class in mismanagement* (MIT Technology Review)

Tracking and tracing covid-19—what are the promises, limitations and risks? (Babbage, The Economist)

Apple 'not told' about UK's latest app plans (BBC News)

Does any country have 'a functioning track and trace app'? (Full Fact)

NHS Covid app didn’t pass the test but it still points way to the future (Evening Standard)

The public inquiry... (medConfidential)

No, the government hasn’t installed a coronavirus app on your phone (Which?)

Coronavirus: Ireland set to launch contact-trace app (BBC News)

French give cool reception to Covid-19 contact-tracing app* (FT)

Viral content: local data for local people

Whitehall not sharing Covid-19 data on local outbreaks, say councils (The Guardian)

Local data for local places can help save lives (ODI Leeds)

City-wide data in London: pandemic response & recovery (Part 1); Where we want to get to (Part 2) (Smart London)

Viral content: everything else

“Agreeing to do it in four weeks must’ve been a moment of madness”: Inside the team that built the UK’s furlough scheme (NS Tech)

Covid-19 has made me rethink how I publish, share and coordinate UK food data (UK Data Service)

This open source project is using Python, SQL and Docker to understand coronavirus health data (ZDNet)

Coronavirus: Artificial intelligence to 'rank' NHS patients to help clear post-COVID backlog (Sky News)

Covid-19: The Disaster Automation Was Waiting For (Tribune)

'We're using data during this crisis like never before' (via Sir Chris Ham, via Graham)

How coronavirus reshaped the NHS* (Wired)

Covid-19 and lack of linked datasets for care homes (BMJ)

Uber, WeWork, Airbnb – how coronavirus is bursting the tech bubble (The Conversation)

International Public Health Identity Systems Monitor (Ada Lovelace Institute)

Viral misinformation

Damian Collins MP: Social media firms must take responsibility for harmful Covid-19 disinformation (Press Gazette)

Coronavirus misinformation, and how scientists can help to fight it (Nature)

Countering Disinformation (Cardiff University)

Canaries in the Coal Mine: COVID-19 Misinformation and Black Communities (Shorenstein Center)

UK government

Digital Secretary's closing speech to the UK Tech Cluster Group (DCMS)

The UK’s digital strategy should be the wholesale elimination of administrative burden (Richard Pope)

Helping service teams make decisions about authentication and identity assurance (Technology in government)

Home Office faces court challenge over 'discriminatory' visa algorithm (Civil Service World)

Amazon UK executive to advise GDS on gov.uk (NS Tech)

We’re creating a DfE Service Manual (DfE Digital - discussion here)

If government is mostly service design, is most government service design databases and rights (Richard Pope)

Making it easier to access and use earth observation data (Defra digital)

Questions: Data Strategy (House of Lords)

Big tech

Andrew Yang is pushing Big Tech to pay users for data (The Verge)

CEO of Open Technology Fund Resigns After Closed-Source Lobbying Effort (Motherboard)

Why on Earth did Facebook Just Acquire Mapillary? (Joe Morrison)

Data justice

Data Justice Lab publishes guidebook on data literacy tools (Data Justice Lab)

If the idea of tech not being neutral is new to you, or if you think of tech as just a tool (that is equally likely to be used for good or bad), I want to share some resources & examples in this thread... (Rachel Thomas)

Wrongfully Accused by an Algorithm* (New York Times)

Everything else

Data sharing, US style (Wojtek Kopczuk, via Tom)

Data-informed/enabled vs data-driven (Amanda)

Combining Crowds and Machines: Experiments in collective intelligence design 1.0 (Nesta)

360Giving’s Datastore: a coming-of-age story for open data infrastructure (Open Data Services)

Why ‘digital’ is not separate from organisational resilience. (Cassie Robinson)

WHO DO THEY THINK WE ARE? Political Parties, Political Profiling, and The Law (Open Rights Group)

Tool (Open Rights Group)

How the BBC’s Shared Data Unit teaches journalists to find the news 'hiding in plain sight' (The Drum)

Dealing with rejection (FOIMan)

Opportunities

EVENT: Data Bites #12: Getting things done with data in government (IfG)

JOB: Head of (or Director of) Advocacy (Open Contracting Partnership)

JOB: Grade 7 Developer (MHCLG)

JOBS: Big Brother Watch

JOB: Data Engineer (The National Archives)

We’re hiring engineers! (EBM DataLab)

JOB: Ethics Research Scientist (DeepMind)

JOBS: Ethics Team, Public Policy Programme (The Alan Turing Institute)

JOB: Senior Data Scientist (Business Intelligence and Analytics) (Ordnance Survey)

INVITATION TO TENDER: Demonstrate the impact and value of tools developed within the OpenActive initiative (ODI)

CALL TO ACTION: Audit reform (Luminate)

And finally...

#dataviz

Body language... (Wired/Reuben Binns)

While listening to council meetings in Montreal, local mayor Sue Montgomery decided to knit in red when men spoke and in green for women... (#WOMENSART, via David)

19 Data Graphs All About Disney That Are Beyond Fascinating (Ranker, via Heather)

Coronavirus in Florida (Dare Obasanjo)

Watch the impact of the internet in 3 mins (V1 Analytics, via David)

Everything else

Cryptography... (Josh Glendinning)

Stickers (Andrew Newman)

A Woman On TikTok Sang A Song Calling Out People For Using Racist Statistics, And It's Gone Super Viral (BuzzFeed)

[belphegor1982]

This is not an easy chapter. ngl, it was A Lot to write.

FAIRY TALES AND HOKUM

Summary: 1937: Two years after the events of Ahm Shere, the O’Connells are “required” by the British Government to bring the Diamond taken there from Egypt to England. In Cairo, while Evelyn deals with the negotiations and Rick waits for doom to strike again, Jonathan bumps into an old friend of his from university, Tom Ferguson. Things start to go awry when the Diamond is stolen from the Museum and old loyalties are tested… (story on AO3; on FFnet)

(Chapters on Tumblr: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19)

Chapter 20: Aftermaths (on AO3 here; on FFnet here)

What struck Rick was the hush. It wasn’t exactly silence; more like cotton in his ears, muffling out the incoming sounds.

He had known, the second he had seen Jonathan slide down the wall, the second Alex had screamed, what was going to happen. He was too intimately familiar with the signs of encroaching death to ignore them: the sinister pallor, the laboured breathing, the inevitability of it all… and the helplessness of the living. When a distraught Evelyn had turned to him, calling for help, finding none, there had been no comfort he could give her. Life had slipped out of Jonathan too fast for anyone to do anything.

Against him, Alex made a keening noise and started to sob, quietly at first, then violently, his small frame racked with shudders. Rick cradled him in his arms and gently rocked him back and forth. Evelyn stared at her brother’s body, her eyes almost as empty as Jonathan’s had been before Rick had closed them.

Izzy ran out of the cabin just as Atifa scrambled up the ladder. Both jaws dropped open at the same time.

Nobody said anything. The thick silence seemed to swallow the words before they made their way out. Rick was almost grateful.

Apart from Alex weeping in his arms, the only movement he could feel and the only sound that reached his ears was the breeze, slowly growing warmer as the sun rose over Egypt. The moment seemed to stretch out, like a rubber band. And like a rubber band, Rick knew, you could only stretch that kind of moment for so long before it snapped.

A small part of him wanted to fall back, retreat to the nearest secure spot, and lick his wounds – all kinds of wounds – in peace. A big part of him, the part that was pure frazzled exhaustion, wanted the world to stop so he could sleep for a week. But the heart of him, the very core, looked at his unresponsive wife and the sobbing child in his arms, and said, They need you right now, and they need you strong.

He never actually wanted to take charge. Somehow, though, that’s where he usually seemed to end up in the worst kinds of circumstances.

You just got promoted…

Rick let out a shuddering sigh, and freed an arm from Alex to put it around Evy.

“Evelyn. Honey.”

She let him turn her ever so slightly, her eyes still drawn to the body as though to a magnet.

“I’ll take care of him. Okay? I’ll stay with him.” He stroked her back, very gently, dropping his voice down to a murmur. “But I need you to take Alex. He can’t stay here.”

Their son’s name rekindled something in Evy’s eyes. She reached out, and Rick, once he had gently detached Alex’s hands, tight around his neck, poured the boy into her arms.

It was an achingly familiar move, perfected when Alex had been a toddler and prone to falling asleep on his parents’ lap after swearing up and down he wasn’t sleepy. He had done that a lot for about a year and a half. They had come home once, after a conference in London, to see Jonathan fast asleep on the sofa with a two-year-old Alex sprawled over him like a starfish. Both babysitter and child had been equally hard to wake up.

The memory made Rick’s chest ache. He bit down on the pain and shoved it aside, to be dealt with later.

And he knew there would be a later. No matter how numb he currently was.

He caught Izzy’s eyes over Evy’s shoulder. The pilot understood instantly.

“C’mon, Evelyn,” he said, gentler than Rick had ever heard him. He took Evy’s arm to support her as she rose, still holding Alex, and slowly escorted her inside the cabin. When they were gone, Rick tried, in vain, to swallow the lump in his throat. He turned back to Atifa, who stood by the rail, so still and silent it was easy to forget she was there.

“Do you have a, uh…” Damn, but that sentence was difficult. “Something we could use as a kinda shroud?”

Atifa nodded.

“Wait here,” she said in a low voice.

His eyes followed her down the ladder and into the ruined camp. He liked Atifa. She was stern, only a little less intense than Ardeth was on a bad day, but she was a strong, no-nonsense woman, and a good ally.

She came back with what looked like white linen sheets. Rick rose to his feet slowly, feeling every single muscle, tendon, and bone, and took it off her hands as she climbed over the rail.

“Thank you. Where –?”

“The white men’s tents and bedding. We have taken care of our dead since the sun rose.”

Rick hadn’t missed the battle damage as he ran out of the pyramid. It had only taken a second to recognise the signs. But he’d been so focused on getting out that he hadn’t let it sink in.

“I’m sorry about your men,” he said through whatever still obstructed his throat. “How many?”

Atifa looked just as hollow and worn as he felt.

“Thirty-two. Nine men, eight women, and fifteen Westerners who chose to fight the Army of Anubis with us. They all gave their lives so we could live.” She looked down at Jonathan, then back at him. “I’m sorry about your friend.”

“He’s family, actually.”

Too late, Rick caught the present tense.

They were a family of three, now. Four, with Ardeth. He would have to get used to it.

God, he hated it already.

Atifa’s eyes softened slightly. Without another word, she spread the sheet on the deck, smoothing out the wrinkles, and moved to Jonathan’s side.

For just a half-second, Jonathan appeared to be sleeping. Rick had seen him sleep that way, back in that basement they had been locked up in, sitting against a wall with his chin resting on his chest. The illusion was gone in an instant. No matter how the cliché went, a dead man’s body could not be mistaken for a live one. The difference was tiny, but staggering.

Rick picked up his brother-in-law’s corpse, cradling his head as gently as he had cradled Alex’s, and deposited him on the makeshift shroud. Before Atifa could close it, however, he stayed her hand.

When people died, the living often asked questions. It was part of what being alive meant. ‘Why’ and ‘how’ were generally the most frequent ones.

In this particular case, ‘why’ was moot – Jonathan hadn’t given his life, like the Medjai who had died weapons in hand, defending each other. It had been taken from him as they ran to safety, to family, to freedom. No, asking ‘why’ would be pointless. Rick was more interested in ‘how’. And, incidentally, in ‘who’.

He slowly turned the body on its side.

The blood stain wasn’t that large, he noted with a strange detachment. Most of the bleeding had been internal. The origin was a small round hole between the shoulder blades, a little off to the right of the spine. The bullet hadn’t gone through. Maybe it would only have done minor damage if the effort of running hadn’t made it move around and nick an artery. Or maybe the wound would have been fatal anyway and he would have bled out, only slowly. There was no way to tell.

Rick gingerly laid the body back down on the sheet. That was the ‘how’ taken care of. Now for the ‘who’.

Fury gradually eroded the numbness, as slow and inexorable as the wind moving the sand dunes.

“The men who were behind us,” he said in a low, dangerous voice. “Where are they?”

Atifa looked into his eyes, and understood perfectly.

“They are our prisoners,” she said firmly, “and they will not be touched.”

“I won’t need to touch him.” Whether Baine had fired the gun that had killed Jonathan or not, he was damn well responsible. And even though Rick would like nothing more than to pound him to a paste right now, a bullet to the head – or in the back – had a certain poetic irony to it. He’d been itching to deck the guy for days; now he just wanted to kill him.

But Atifa shook her head.

“The battle is over. They lost and they accepted their defeat. The honourable thing—”

“Honourable!?” he almost shouted. “The damn pyramid was falling apart around us, and instead of thinking of his own men that guy chose to shoot us as we ran. Where’s the honour in that?”

“O’Connell!” she snapped.

Through the haze of anger came a pinprick of annoyance. Why did everybody seem to call each other by their first names except him?

“You’re not thinking clearly.”

“Oh,” he growled, “I really am –”

“No you’re not,” she countered hotly, in Arabic this time. “Because if you were, you wouldn’t be thinking of darkening your soul with pointless vengeance while your brother’s corpse is still warm and your family is weeping just behind that door.”

As usual, she was just as intense, but less formal when she spoke Arabic. The language switch gave her words a weight and an impact they would have lacked in English. But maybe that was because his Arabic – a language he had spoken daily from thirteen to twenty years old – was just a little rusty.

He didn’t bother to correct her about the difference between brother and brother-in-law. After all this time, and everything they had been through together, Jonathan might as well have been blood.

This time he did remember to use the past tense.

“We set up camp a couple of hours’ ride to the south-east,” Atifa continued in the same language, more quietly. “Your wife and the pilot know the way. That’s where we’ve been sending the prisoners and the fallen. They deserve their families around them, and their families need to say goodbye. You and yours will be welcome there.”

Rick was still seething; his hands tightened into fists almost of their own accord, still itching to punch Baine into the ground. But he nodded wordlessly.

They worked in silence after that. When they were done, the body was neatly wrapped in white linen and easier to look at, somehow.

Rather looks like something you’d find in a sarcophagus, doesn’t it, old boy? a familiar voice piped up in Rick’s head. Beneath the layers of grief and anger he felt a small spark of laughter. Jonathan probably would make that joke if he could.

Rick bid Atifa goodbye and found Izzy at the helm, unusually sombre.

“O’Connell.”

“Hey, Izzy. Thanks for coming to the rescue.”

The pilot snorted. “Like I had any choice. Your kid picked the lock on my door and then your wife just blasted it with a shotgun. Hell of a family you got.”

“Yeah. Well, it just got smaller.”

Izzy opened his mouth and closed it wordlessly. Rick ran a hand over his face, too tired for sarcasm.

“…So, where to?” Izzy asked eventually in a would-be casual voice, making a show of fiddling with buttons and firing up the boiler.

“Apparently you know the way to the Medjai camp?”

“Yep. A whole load of tents pitched near a little oasis and lots and lots of scary people in black. Kids, too, if you can believe it.”

“’That far?”

“Nah, about twenty minutes as Dee flies. Even with the damage your boy did to my dirigible we should be there in half an hour.”

Rick blinked. “Dee?”

“I gave my lady a name, O’Connell – got a problem with that?”

In other circumstances, Rick would have enjoyed ribbing Izzy. They had the kind of back-and-forth that could last for hours, back in the day; pretty entertaining, as pastimes went. Right now, though… Right now he had rarely wanted his wife and son in his arms more badly. If only to make sure they were still alive.

He replied with a vague gesture and made for the sleeping quarters, where Izzy had put up Evy and Alex.

Izzy had a big mouth and a tendency to put his foot in it, but he was smarter than people often gave him credit for. He threw a look at Rick over his shoulder and muttered, “Hey, O’Connell? Sorry about Carnahan.”

Rick tapped his shoulder in thanks and walked away.

The night had been hell. He had a feeling the day would be worse.

.⅋.

The night had been long. Ardeth had a feeling the day would be longer still.

He barely had time to see to his wounds once they came back to the camp. As High Commander, he had to oversee the aftermath of the battle just as he had the preparations. This meant making sure tents were pitched up for the wounded, seeing that families received their dead in private, and directing the flow of information about who lived, who needed treatment and what kind, and who would never come back. Fortunately, after a while he was able to delegate and let things run their course. After giving a few last orders, he left to look for his family.

He found Imeni in their tent, in the Eleventh Tribe section. To his absolute relief, she appeared unhurt. Sabni was asleep on her lap, and she sang softly as she braided Maira’s long dark hair, her hands almost the same colour in the dim light.

When Ardeth entered the tent, he only just had time to get down on one knee before his daughter, braiding forgotten, ploughed into him. Despite his injuries, and despite the exhaustion of almost an entire night of fighting, he took her into his arms and held her close.

Maira was eight; Sabni was three. Unlike her brother, his eldest had clear and vivid recollections of the last time the Medjai had gone out in force to fight Anubis’ Army.

He met Imeni’s eyes over the small dark head. They were shining.

“Allah be praised,” he breathed, softly in order to not wake his son. “I feared –”

“I know. So did I. The fighting was so fierce.” She gave him a smile, her teeth very white in her dark face. “But I heard that the Commander was on his feet, and I had a feeling you would eventually come here.”

“There’s no Commander in this tent. Only a husband and a father.” Ardeth carefully sat down, Maira still clutched to him, and kissed the crown of his wife’s head. “Are you hurt?”

“A nick to the back of the calf, on the right leg. I already treated it. I’ll just avoid walking today and limp a little for the next few weeks.” Her long, almond-shaped eyes meandered over what she could see of his body. “What about you?”

Ardeth shook his head. “A few scratches here and there. A small price to pay to keep the Army of Anubis at bay. Especially when we lost so many warriors. Even Maher’s men were attacked, right at the foot of the Pyramid.”

Imeni’s eyes widened.

“Really?”

“Yes. His message said he lost about a dozen people. Plus some of the Westerners who surrendered when they took the camp. Maher insisted the survivors be treated better than those who were still coming out from the Pyramid.”

“What happened to the Pyramid of Ahm Shere, Dad?” came Maira’s voice from against his chest, somewhat muffled by his robes. Ardeth gently ran a hand into her hair, now almost completely loose. It was dark and quiet inside the tent; the soft weight of his daughter against him and the warm shoulder of his wife against his own felt comfortable and familiar. For the umpteenth time since sunrise, he sent a prayer to Allah in gratitude.

“Bad people went inside to release the Army of Anubis, good people went inside to stop them. I’m guessing they must have been successful.” Maira absently played with the hem of his shirt, and he was glad he had taken the time to put on clothes that were not bloody and tattered. “When the Army disappeared, the Pyramid started collapsing, but some of the people had time to come out before it was destroyed.”

“What about Alex and his mother?” she asked. “And his dad and uncle? Did they come out?”

“I hope so, sweetheart. I haven’t heard from them yet.” Ardeth met his wife’s eyes again, and saw his own vague worry reflected there.

He was debating what to say and not say when Nuya, a young man who often worked as his aide, lifted the flap at the entrance of the tent and called softly, “Commander? Westerners are coming.”

“What kind of Westerners?” Ardeth asked cautiously. Nuya smiled.

“Ours. The balloon is landing between the Eighth and Ninth Tribe sections.”

Ardeth couldn’t help a grin, relieved. The world just would not be the same without Evelyn’s passion for knowledge, Rick’s calm strength, Jonathan’s wry humour, or Alex’s childlike enthusiasm. It might be quieter, and – as some people muttered sometimes – safer, but it would be colder, and definitely not as entertaining.

Imeni kissed his head near his ear. “Go, and give them my love,” she said, smiling. “And tell them that tea would be nice if they have the time.”

Ardeth gently pried Maira’s hands from around his torso and kissed her forehead, promising he would be back soon. Then he followed Nuya into the blinding mid-morning sun, forcing his face back into a serious expression.

When he saw the dirigible, though, and spotted the O’Connells walking down the gangway, the grin sneaked back on his face despite himself.

“My friends,” he began in English, delighted, “you—”

His voice trailed off.

Something was wrong.

Something was very wrong.

Alex was clinging to his mother, hiccuping from time to time, his face blotchy. A few stray tears rolled on his cheeks he didn’t bother to wipe. Evelyn looked like brittle steel, pale and hollow-eyed. O’Connell walked behind her, shoulders slumped. His face, usually so expressive, was set in stone, with deep, hard lines.

Ardeth searched in vain for the fourth member of the little family until denial made way for a leaden resignation that would shortly, he knew, turn into sorrow.

“What happened?” he asked in a low voice when he reached them.

“Not now,” O’Connell replied, sounding – and looking – nothing short of exhausted. He still corrected himself. “I mean – I’m glad you’re okay, Ardeth, I really am. Just… Oh, man.” He ran a hand across his grimy face. His whole body was battered and dusty, and he appeared to be feeling every single bruise. “Do you have a tent or something, somewhere private? Evy doesn’t – she needs to stay with her brother a while, y’know? And Alex needs to be somewhere else. Somewhere safe, where he can rest.”

There was something heartbreaking about his subdued, halting voice. It also drove the point home, though the words themselves were never spoken.

Ardeth nodded, suddenly unspeakably weary. “If it’s all right with you and Evelyn, I think Imeni would be glad to look after him. She always says he’s very well-behaved.”

There was a flash of something on O’Connell’s face that might have been a smile in other circumstances.

“Your wife is a very kind woman.” He turned to Evelyn and Alex; after a few seconds’ quiet conversation, he said, “Yeah, that’d be good. Thank you.”

Thus Ardeth left Evelyn and O’Connell standing by the dirigible with the promise that he would be back shortly, and Alex followed him to his family’s tent.

“I am sorry,” he said quietly after a while, “about your uncle.”

Alex hiccuped and ran his sleeve across his eyes. Fresh tears immediately replaced the ones he’d wiped.

“He shouldn’t be d—dead,” he said in a strangled voice, eyes riveted to the ground. “It’s not… it’s not f—fair.”

“I know.”

“He got out. He and Dad g—got out, and he was fine, and then he… There was blood on the… He shouldn’t b—be dead.”

Ardeth tightened his hand around the boy’s, and wished there was something he could say.

Alex had fallen silent except for snuffles and hiccups by the time they reached the tent. Sabni was awake, and played with wooden cups while his mother braided Maira’s hair. Imeni looked up from her work when they entered, first in curiosity, then in alarm.

“What’s wrong?” she asked as Ardeth made Alex sit on the cushions next to her. The boy barely reacted.

He sighed. “Jonathan’s dead.”

“Tal-lāh1,” she breathed. She’d been fond of the Englishman. He had made her laugh. He had made Ardeth laugh, too, come to think of it – and he had also saved his life. Not many people could attest to both.

Of all the friends he would have to bury tomorrow, Jonathan Carnahan had to be the most unlikely. He was rarely serious, sometimes a little ridiculous, and much too fond of earthly riches; but he was also the kind of man who loved his family so much he repeatedly followed them into the worst situations no matter how scared he was.

“What happened?” Imeni asked in Arabic, reaching to Alex, tentatively at first, then cradling him like she had cradled Sabni. Alex clung to her, eyes closed, gulping.

“I don’t know yet.” His eyes went over to Maira, standing protectively near her little brother, who was staring at Alex with wide eyes. “Do you mind looking after him for a little while? His parents and I need to take care of the body.”

“Of course.” Imeni’s dark eyes were bright, but this time sadness, not joy, made them gleam. She looked down at Alex in her arms. “Yā ḥabībī2,” she murmured. “Don’t be ashamed to cry, bunayy3, let it all go. Tears are the grief leaving your soul…”

Her soft words, half Arabic and half English, accompanied Ardeth until he left the soothing darkness of the tent and walked back into the harsh light of day.

.⅋.

Evy seemed to be clinging to her stiff upper lip like a lifeline. She stood silent and unmoving on the sidelines as Rick and Ardeth picked up Jonathan’s body and carried it into an unoccupied tent not too far from the dirigible.

She still hadn’t cried. It was starting to worry Rick a little.

While they walked, he explained to Ardeth, in a few terse words, what had happened: Hamilton and the seal, Baine and his orders to kill, getting separated, losing Ferguson, and stopping Hamilton by making the giant gong fall on him – then running and ducking bullets, reaching safety, and finding out that they had run out of miracles after all. It had only taken one bullet. One. They had dodged all the rest.

Ardeth listened, attentive, grave. He looked almost exactly like he had when Rick had seen him after that battle two years ago, sombre and weary, but there was a crease between his eyebrows and a grim downturn to his mouth that hadn’t been there before.

When they were finished, having draped a blanket on the body for good measure, they stood outside the tent for a moment, watching the camp. People passed by, cried, laughed, held each other, or just walked in silence. The camp was hardly quiet around them, but still Rick felt like all the sounds weren’t reaching his brain correctly. There was no getting rid of that damn hush.

Ardeth looked at him sideways.

“I am glad you’re alive, too, O’Connell,” he said quietly. Rick gave a nod of acknowledgement, then something halfway between a sigh and a snort.

“After all this time,” he said in the same tone, “you can call me ‘Rick’, you know. There’s only two people who –” Damn. He had slipped up again. He cleared his throat, and finished, just a little roughly, “I mean, the only other person who does is Evy.”

Ardeth’s eyes softened just a little.

“Then I will.”

“Thank you.”

And Ardeth left to attend to his duties, leaving Rick to his own.

The tent wasn’t large, but it was high enough to stand in. Inside, the brutal light was dimmed, the shadows softened, but Evy’s face was hard when she sat down on the frayed carpet, a couple of yards from the unmoving form under the blanket.

Rick sat beside his wife, wrapped his arms around her, and waited.

After a while, she said, in a clipped, almost foreign voice, “We could never recover our parents’ bodies, did you know that? After the crash.”

Rick held her closer and kissed her temple. “No, I didn’t.”

“They found parts of the plane floating in the Mediterranean sea, of course, and enough evidence that nobody had survived before sending us the letter. I went to absolute pieces when we got it. Jonathan had to make tea and sit on the floor with me until I could breathe properly. I don’t think he remembers now, though, he looked like a sleepwalker at the time.”

It was warm inside the tent, hot, even. Yet he could feel Evy on the brink of trembling. Shivers were moving up and down her back like ripples on a lake in a light breeze.

“My parents never got a proper grave but at least they had each other. Now, he… We’re going to have to bury him here, far from home, and he’s going to be so lonely…”

The rest of her sentence was lost as she finally yielded to her grief and let the tears fall. She curled into Rick’s chest and sobbed and sobbed while Rick held her tightly, wanting so badly to shelter her from everything and keenly aware that he couldn’t.

Rick spent some of the longest hours of his life in this tent, alternating between a silent vigil and quiet, broken conversations that gradually got less fractured as the sun rose and fell outside. Sleep got very tempting around two in the afternoon, but he rubbed his eyes and stayed stubbornly awake. There was no way in hell he would leave Evy alone with her ghosts and the corpse of her brother.

Toward the end of the afternoon, as Evy drifted in and out of sleep, Rick heard footsteps in the sand on the other side of the canvas. A hand drew the flap, and Ardeth poked his head inside, a very odd look on his face.

“What’s up?” Rick asked, suspicious. Evy stirred against him and turned to Ardeth with the same unspoken question, tousled-haired and puffy-eyed.

Ardeth seemed to hesitate. Then he spoke.

“You told me Tom Ferguson was dead.”

Rick rubbed his eyes and tried to gather his memories. The poor bastard had almost vanished from his mind the moment they had come running out of the pyramid.

“I said he must be. He and Jonathan got trapped on either side of a wall and he got jumped by pygmy mummies. Jonathan was pretty damn sure he was dead. Why?”

“Because…” Ardeth frowned, and continued, his voice as steady as it always was, “Because we finally gathered all the surviving agents. Among them, we found Hamilton; he’s alive, but completely unresponsive. I don’t think he can even hear us.”

Rick’s eyebrow shot up. “How’d he get out of the pyramid, then?”

“Ferguson carried him out.”

“What?”

.⅋.

1(تالله): “By God”

2(‏يَا حَبِيبِي‎‎): “Oh my darling”

3(بُنَيّ): “little son” (endearment)

…trust me?

[fathersonholygore]

BBC Two’s Peaky Blinders Season 4, Episode 6: “The Company” Directed by David Caffrey Written by Steven Knight

* For a recap & review of the penultimate Season 4 episode, “The Duel” – click here * Season 5 to come next year The big boxing match between Bonnie Gold (Jack Rowan) and Goliath (Dino Kelly) is on. A sold out crowd ready to watch these two men fight it out in the ring. And all around is danger, as Alfie Solomons (Tom Hardy) shows up to meet Tommy Shelby (Cillian Murphy). What’s the Jewish baker decided on? Has he accepted the offer of Luca Changretta (Adrien Brody), or will he choose to aid his friend? He says he’s had a “revelation.” That it’s time to take a rest. Seems he’s resigned to the idea of everything being over at this point. Yet he’s cryptic, more than usual. “It‘s been that way ever since the war, innit? The Americans. Big fucks small.” The fight starts while Arthur (Paul Anderson) rails coke ringside, drinking, cheering on Bonnie. The big man Goliath gives him a good few whallops. The young lad makes it through the round, getting some advice from papa Aberama (Aidan Gillen). Arthur’s feeling antsy, so Tommy is keeping a lid on him. In the ring, Bonnie takes a fine beating. Polly (Helen McCrory) talks in the bathroom with Lizzie (Natasha O’Keeffe) about the pregnancy. Not long and Ada (Sophie Rundle) shows up, she hears of the baby, too. They all have a drink while the men are “screaming for blood.” In the meantime, Pol uses the Gypsy magic touch to figure out Lizzie and Tommy are having a girl. Linda (Kate Phillips) comes in to snort coke, be a bit rude. Quite the family. Bonnie’s waiting it out, trying to last until the fourth round, like Tom suggested. The whole time Arthur knows something isn’t right by the ring. He tells his brother that the men there aren’t even worried about the boxing, they don’t look or move right. Tom passes it off as the coke’s effects. But he shouldn’t be so sure. The ever paranoid eldest Shelby tails one of them when they leave. Sure enough the guy’s gone to get a garrote. He keeps looking for the man, soon Tommy comes looking for his brother. Before he gets there, the man garrotes Arthur who slips a couple fingers in, nearly having them cut off; he passes out. The man’s about to put a bullet in him and Tommy stops it. But is he too late? Yes, sadly, and now Tommy, Pol, they’re scrambling to keep themselves and everyone close to them safe. Poor Linda finds out the news by the ring, falling to pieces. Simultaneously, Bonnie’s put Goliath down for the count, TKO in the centre of the ring. A true David versus Goliath match. When the lads find one of the men involved, they beat him. Finn (Harry Kirton) is ordered to “take his eyes” using their signature blinder caps. And right afterwards, Tommy storms the ring, firing off shots. Nobody moves. Charlie (Ned Dennehy) calms him down, diffusing the situation. Just barely. No telling what kind of hell is about to erupt around Birmingham. Not to mention what sort of madness will go down between Tom and Alfie. All of Small Heath mourns the murder of Arthur Shelby. A volatile yet strangely compassionate man, at times. Although business must go on, too. Pol gets a call from Michael (Finn Cole). She explains he’ll be coming home, what happened. When he gets back he’s told the plan is he goes to New York, on company business. The family’s not doing well, to say the least. In a field, Arthur’s being given the Gypsy send-off. That’s when Audrey Changretta (Brid Brennan) comes, to tell them the “vendetta is won.” They want all of the Shelbys things, everything they own. Or else Luca will kill all the remaining family. Speaking of Luca, he’s gone to see Alfie. We hear more info on the Jew, that he was a Captain in WII. That’s smart thinking. Changretta manages to head off a nasty explosion that Alfie left for anybody coming to barge through his door. So, what’s Tommy going to do about all this now? Let him have it. Not in the rough and tumble way, either. They’re handing over everything. Walking away. I can’t help feeling there’s more to that plan, that they aren’t going to be able to walk away so easily. Or that Tommy’s not willing to just let the death of his brothers slide. Thus, Tom, Pol, Finn, they meet with Luca and his well-armed men. All the papers are there for Tom to sign over everything to the Changretta family. Except the Shelbys are smart. They’ve been talking to people in New York about Luca, the liquor business. They talked to Alphonse Capone himself. Seems that the men behind Changretta have been purchased, they’re not loyal to Luca; only a dollar. Even the guy’s right hand man Matteo (Luca Matteo Zizzari). When Luca breaks out and tries doing the job himself, Tommy beats him brutally. This is when we discover Arthur is NOT DEAD. It was a ruse, to sucker everybody in. Even Linda had to be deceived. And what we wanted to see from the beginning, the eldest Shelby killing Luca, now happens, when Arthur puts a bullet in his face. “Tell your boss what you saw here today, tell him you don‘t fuck with the Peaky Blinders,” he tells the remaining Italians as they leave.

Cause for celebration. Arthur also says he wants Tommy to take time off, to relax. They’ve been fighting enemies for so long, he’s worked so hard, they’ve lost so many. Time to take a vacation. This brings Tom to the beach, where he finds Alfie walking his dog. The Jew goes on about being “riddled with” cancer. He talks and talks, like always. Finally, Tom goes to shoot. He gets Alfie right in the face, taking a bullet to his side. But he gets up and walks off, leaving the dead baker with his dog in the bloody sand. Skip ahead three months. The beautifully haunting “Pyramid Song” by Radiohead plays. Tom Golfs with Finn. He sits by the water, suddenly having a PTSD-like symptom, hearing guns in the woods he tumbles to the ground like they were bombs from the war. Oh, my. Back then it wasn’t even called PTSD, nor was there any help for it. Only booze. He is in rough fucking shape. Almost like he’s right back where he started after coming bac from France in tatters. Difference being he’s a father now. Pol tells him that they live “somewhere between life and death, waiting to move on” and that’s just what their Gypsy blood dictates. Tom: “I know what this is. It‘s just myself talking to myself about myself.”

Down at the shop, Tom returns after his vacation of golf and fishing. Arthur’s glad to have him back. Ready to get moving on whatever’s next. He sends a letter for Jessie Eden (Charlie Murphy), he wants to commit to real change, so they’re set to meet. He wants to meet the people she knows. Is he going to do it for real, or is he intent on doing his part for the British? After Tom gets on a call with this insider in the Communist ranks, he goes to see Arthur Bigge (Donald Sumpter) with the government. He has demands, meant to be run past Mr. Churchill himself. Bigge doesn’t look pleased, but Tom is playing for all the marbles this time. Not to mention he’s on the ballot for the Birmingham South election; Pol, Ada, the lot of them are headed down to vote for Thomas Shelby, Labour Party. Might as well attack from the inside out. He winds up winning, too. Quite a different looking future for the Blinders, no? We’ll see how it goes next year. Season 4 was fantastic, and this new dynamic promises new anxieties for Tom, juggling political life, being a gangster, a family man (who’s having an affair), and his PTSD symptoms. Peaky Blinders – Season 4, Episode 6: “The Company” BBC Two's Peaky Blinders Season 4, Episode 6: "The Company" Directed by David Caffrey…