#like Justice for Pancho!!!

[meepmeep19]

oH sUrE, bLaMe tHe FeLoN

~Pancho

gay people can do infinite crimes

[the-emperror-of-madagascar]

theme 3 - villains

for theme number 3, let's talk about a character who I don't think is a villain,

Crimson

people treat her like she's evil

but is this really the case?

let's see the evidence

in her first appearance she acts recklessly and doesn't care if she hurts anyone

basically she's acting like a spoiled brat,

but does that make her evil?

of course she joined UKJ to harm King Julien, and tried to poison him in the next two episodes

but she did it only after he left her at the altar, so her reaction is a bit understandable (a bit)

like I said, she's a spoiled brat, King Julien hurt her, so according to her, she must hurt him as a just (in her opinion) revenge.

in the next episode she showed up, she was still working with UKJ, but this episode was more about her rivalry with her sister

then he didn't see her until exiled

now she no longer wants revenge on KJ and has become the queen of siren island, and she has romantic feelings for him again

someone will say that she tried to sacrifice Momo and Pancho, but she wanted to do it to save her subjects from the tentacle, not because she wanted to harm them

and that was the last we saw of her, she doesn't appear in the last season

Nope,

definitely not,

I definitely don't pretend that the final two episodes don't exist

Nope

(the last season has only eleven episodes, thank you very much)

and even if they were, there would be more competition with her sister and even reconciliation between them

let's see

she is reckless, spoiled,

but does that mean she is evil?

NO

does that mean she is good?

heck no

she's more in the gray zone

and it is more complicated than simple black and white morality

I decided to write this because some people in the fan community treated it as evil, completely ignoring its complexity.

however, there is one author on fanfic.net GregTheGroovy who understands its complexity

if you want a fic that does her justice read his fic Xanadu Blues

[dissonantia-goddess-of-chaos]

Cassandra "Cassie" Slade/"The Rogue Rider": [20] Born in the rural areas of Rio Hondo, Texas, Cassandra Santos was born into a rancher family who inherited the wealth of her late grandfather, who used to be a rich man in Spain. At the age of 6, her parents were brutally murdered by a group of outlaws who raided their home for the money, and they chased her down because she was a witness. Before they could kill her, Carter showed up and slaughtered all of them, saving Cassie. Sympathetic for the girl, he took her in and raised her as his own. As the years went by, Carter trained the young girl how to tame horses and become an accurate sharpshooter just like her old man. Cassie has short warm black hair, tan skin, and soft brown eyes. She has light brown freckles on her face and shoulders. As a result of her constant training and completing chores around Carter's ranch, she as a slim-thick and athletic build.

When she turned 20, Dissonantia granted her the power to become a ghost rider without a contract, and allowed to tame a hellsteed to be her companion. She ended up choosing a demonic bullhorse, a hellish hybrid between a bull and a hellsteed mare. They are characterized by their front facing horns, infernal color scheme (red, blue, purple, black, etc.), fiery flaming and smoking mane and tail, larger size, and untamable and aggressive nature. Despite the numerous failed attempts to tame the wild beast from Hell, Cassie managed to subdue and domesticated the inferno horse. She named the beast "Ares".

Cassie inherited her father's cape, and can turn it into a pancho (with or without a hood), a cape, and a cloak, often wearing her hat over the hood of the cloak form during hot and humid weather.

As the Rogue Rider, she uses different handguns and pistols inspired by Western movies and games, rifles, a chain lasso, a crossbow with holy bolts, regular bow and arrows, Bowie knife, machete, a spiked whip, hatchets, spiked brass knuckles, sticks of dynamite that explodes with hellfire, etc.

She views herself aligned between Lawful Good and Lawful Neutral, since she doesn't want to kill anyone but knows that sometimes you need to punch a few teeth out to get a point across. Other than that, she's a sweet and genuine young lady who just wants to help out and make friends.

Her Ghost Rider outfit looks similar to this and this, but she often wears t-shirts and flannels with blue jeans and boots when working or hanging out with the rest of the Ghost Rider kids, Pancho, Ryan, and Lethal (@dissonantia-goddess-of-chaos).

Even when her parents' murders happened when she was 6, she can still remember every last detail: walking out of her bedroom, seeing the blood stained carpet, gruff and gritty voices, shots being fired, her mom screaming and her dad shouting profanities, then turning the corner to see nine men trying to crack open her father's safe while his and her mother's bodies laid on the floor of Mr. Santos' office. She remembered silently backing away, until one of the wooden floor boards creaked underneath her, grabbing the attention of the robbers. She made a run through the open door of the house, sprinting as fast as her little legs could carry her, sobbing and pleading for help. Then she tripped over a rock. As the group of marauders closed in around her, Carter appeared and brought justice to her family by massacring all of them. As he comforted a crying Cassandra, he carried her back to the ranch house, leaving her on the living room couch as he went upstairs to check on her parents. Cassie didn't feel like staying alone, so she followed the skeletal gunslinger upstairs. Carter tried to shoo the girl out of the room so she didn't have to bear the pain of her parents'demise, but she still walked over to the safe and pressed in the code, unlocking the safe. She offered him the money, and of course Carter refused, but they managed to agree that they should take the money so Carter could properly be able to take care of Cassie without worrying about financial trouble.

The deep depression and anger towards her parents' murderers eventually left Cassandra's heart as she grew older, seeing the Western Ghost Rider as her real father.

Her way of "silently greeting" others from a distance is full western hat tilt: hand on hip and the other to tilt her hat.

She has southern accent, sings pretty well, like Dolly Parton when she sings "Jolene" or some of the singers who have sung "House of the Rising Sun.

Due to her southern/Texan/Mexican accent and grammar, she speaks like "ain't" "-in"" "y'all" "howdy" "git" and "Watt-uh-burger". She refers to Carter as "Paw" or "Pa"/"Padre"/"Jefe" (meaning boss in Mexican slang).

Cassie knows EVERY SINGLE country and Mexican dance, like the ones we had to dance during rodeo day in elementary.

Plays the banjo, viola, and pan flute, often with the rest of the Ghost Rider kids to orchestrate small musicals for fun.

Cassie often walks alongside roads near Carter's farm on her horse, singing or whistling a tune. Sometimes she's accompanied by Damian or Sera, but not Azazel since she doesn't like being in the sun for too long, other times she'll start a race between her and Damian, or she'll spend time with Carter, just talking and bonding with him, doing father-daughter things together.

Favorite movies: Rango, the Magnificent Seven, R.I.P.D. (her and Damian persuaded Carter and Johnny to watch this with the rest of the kids to see their reactions to the main characters (honestly, Slade and Blaze remind me of the main characters)), that one western movie with Leonardo DiCaprio in it, some Mexican movies that aren't trash, but she absolutely refuses to watch any western movie that has racist actors or racist stereotypes towards Native Americans.

Favorite video games: western games, some racing and rpg games, RDR2 is her top favorite

When she was younger, she had an irrational fear of skinwalkers, often having nightmares of a tall, lanky, slender figure with glowing eyes standing outside of her bedroom window, staring into her room, waiting.... watching..... This often results in her running to Carter's room, crying for him to make "the bad man go away!" Azazel telling ghost stories on "Campfire Saturday" nights at the Cottonmouth Ranch and Mexican/Texan ghost legends and cryptids doesn't help with Cassie's fear, either.

Favorite color is sunset/sunrise amber

She is still questioning her sexuality

Gardenia Castle/"Lady Punisher", "daughter of the Punisher/Cosmic Ghost Rider", "the Punisher": [21] Born in Hell to Frank Castle and Ryara, Gardenia is the hybrid between a mortal host of the Spirit of Vengeance and a succubus, with the combined abilities of the Ghost Rider and a high ranking demon. She is the split image of her parents, with fair skin and green eyes of her mother's human form, and the jet black hair and physique of her father (although her muscles are smaller and she has long straight black hair).

Pretty like her mom, but becomes psychotic like her dad as she gets older.

She inherited her parents' resting faces, making her look constantly bored, angry, or annoyed.

Frank ends up training her when she expresses interest in his job.

As she got older, she started becoming emotionally distant towards the other children of Zarathos, and just became meaner in general.

Frank refused to support her wish to join the army, not wanting his daughter to become like him.

As a Ghost Rider AND Lady Punisher, she wears an armored suit that is a mixture of the Punisher's outfit and the Cosmic Ghost Rider space suit. (Link to a Pinterest board I made, you'll see her section)

Throughout her childhood, her and Damian always had a crush on each other, but didn't know how to properly display it. They started dating after Damian's 15th birthday.

She absolutely hates tight skin suits, like Black Widow's.

Often gets in fights with the rest of the kids, with the exception of Lethal and Sera.

A professional ballerina.

She is jealous of Sera's natural elegance and dancing

Idolizes her father, much like how Damian, Cassie, and Pancho do to theirs.

If Frank ever decides to quit being Dissonantia's herald, Gardenia will take his place.

She has the inability to be traumatized by bloodshed due to inheriting her mother's bloodlust.

Pancho—who is just as insane as Lobo—is scared of Gardenia because of how sadistic and merciless she can be.

He describes her as "a crazy b*tch with a 'loose hand'", meaning she will not hesitate to pull out her gun and blow off someone's brains out or slit someone's throat with a dagger.

On a mission with her father, Gardenia had to help him take down a corrupted priest that was related to the mafia who was also was possessed by a demon and lead a demonic army against Dissonantia.

She had to disguise herself as a nun, with all sorts of hidden weapons underneath her uniform.

She rides a hellfire motorcycle.

She is Chaotic Neutral.

As the Lady Punisher, she had access to her father's armory and weaponry, but she often uses her Ghost Rider abilities to summon hellfire versions of said weapons.

Her way of "silently greeting" others from a distance is a simple nod.

She developed her father's Italian accent, although it's subtle.

She occasionally plays piano and can seduce others with her singing like her mother.

In her freetime, Gardenia likes to read, walk in the Castle's garden, and work out with her father in the gymnasium. Occasionally, she enjoys DND nights with the rest of the kids.

She got a Hellhound German shepherd named Coffee after she finished Dissonantia's training.

Favorite movies: none come to mind.

Favorite video games: stealth and fighting games. Call of Duty

Favorite color is emerald green

Her sexuality is straight.

Pancho, Son of Lobo: [21]

Ryan Wilson/Grey Menace: [20]

[pulse-vibes-media]

The Impact of the Mexican Revolution 1910-1920 Explore the profound impact of the Mexican Revolution, a decade-long struggle (1910-1920) that transformed Mexico politically, socially, and economically. What began as a revolt against the dictatorship of Porfirio Díaz evolved into a movement for land reform, labor rights, and social justice. The revolution gave rise to iconic figures like Pancho Villa and Emiliano Zapata, leaving a lasting legacy that shaped Explore the profound impact of the Mexican Revolution, a decade-long struggle (1910-1920) that transformed Mexico politically, socially, and economically. What began as a revolt against the dictatorship of Porfirio Díaz evolved into a movement for land reform, labor rights, and social justice. The revolution gave rise to iconic figures like Pancho Villa and Emiliano Zapata, leaving a lasting legacy that shaped #pulsevibesmediamodern Mexico.

How did this revolution change the course of Mexican history? What are your thoughts on its enduring influence? Share your perspective on the impact of the Mexican Revolution. 🎥 Visit our YouTube channel to see more! 🎥 https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC79oPmcGmZt6YyttMWWA-HA

#MexicanRevolution #1910To1920 #PorfirioDiaz #EmilianoZapata #PanchoVilla #LandReform #SocialJustice #MexicanHistory #RevolutionaryMovements #HistoricConflicts #MexicoTransformed #LaborRights #RevolutionaryIcons #MexicoPolitics #ModernMexico #MexicanWar #HistoryOfMexico #PoliticalChange #SocialChange #HistoricEvents #pulsevibesmedia

[wyrmfedgrave]

Pics: Not xenophobia but, pure & plain racism.

1. Pancho Villa warning his enemies that "Today, I'll cut (off) your ear. (But) come tomorrow, I'll (just) kill you."

2. Villa was, for a time, considered to be Mexico's only true 'authority' - by then U.S. president Woodrow Wilson.

So, he capitalized on spreading his fame thru "corridos," mostly American films & newspaper "stories."

3. That good fortune didn't last & Villa was soon being hunted down - by the U.S. & Mexico!!

His wanted poster reads "Gringos are looking for Pancho Villa, living or dead! For a reward of $5,000..."

4. American General Pershing tried to hunt Villa down - for Villa's successful raids in Texas & New Mexico!!

5. Villa joined the successful uprising against Mexican president Díaz in 1910.

6. Mexican General Huerta tried to kill Villa during Pascual Orozco's rebellion.

Yet, due to his political connections, Villa was jailed instead.

He promptly escaped...

7. Venustiano Carranza & Villa joined forces against now president Huerta!

They were successful, defeating Huerta in 1914.

8. Carranza broke with Villa & became president.

But, for some unknown reason didn't follow up on the reforms that the new Mexican Constitution called for...

9. So, Emiliano Zapata joined up with Villa to overthrow Carranza.

But, they were both soundly beaten in a series of battles.

Yet, Villa still controlled all of northern Mexico...

PS: Good Lordy!! A whole array of Mexican people on Lovecraftian Spawn.

Howard must be spinning in his grave.

1914: Output.

Intro: "To Pancho Villa"¹ is another bit of HPL's totally unnecessary racist comments.

It's not, as some have said mere xenophobia. Rather, it's the proud work of a white supremacist.

This is not any kind of satire but, plain & pure racism.

Work: At 1st, it sounds as if Lovecraft is going to play nice with his subject.

"To the intrepid (gentleman), General Francisco Villa, Commander of the Constitutional Army."²

But, Howard's true intentions come up right away.

"... You're a thief; a cutthroat, a bandit (&) a low rustling chief."³

Yet, HPL is 'forced' to admit the 1 thing that he likes most about Villa.

"... In justice... I really must own... you know how to fight."⁴

Only to put Villa back down...

"(Even) if you're still a (thief)."

With his pattern now set, Lovecraft really lets the abuse blow.

"As a Spanish hidalgo,⁵ you cut little figure; you're ¾ injun... tainted with n__r;⁶ you can't read a word; you're own name you can't write⁷..."

Sadly, Howard doesn't really under- stand the chaos Mexico was then continually undergoing.

Nor, I think, did HPL really care. This was just an excuse for him to vent his purile racist views.

Lovecraft continues on with his myopic socio-political 'lecture.'

"When we look for a treaty... we turn to dignified Sir Carranza;⁸ but Mexico waits for another to free her, placing her hopes in... poor mongrel Villa."

Now, Howard reveals 1 of the U.S. interests in 'controlling' Mexico's government.

"While... crafty Huerta... clings to his throne,... it's to you friend Brian⁹ lends his assistance."

Finally, HPL ends with a last crack of the whip.

"(Yes) General Villa, you'll do - at a distance."¹⁰

Weird Shit: In 1920, Villa retired from politics & was granted a pardon & a ranch.

But, 3 years later, Villa started to re- enter politics. It was his last mistake.

Villa was soon assassinated while traveling back home from his bank.

Here's where the weird stuff comes in:

1. Emil Holmdahl, an American treasure hunter, beheaded Villa's corpse!!

He sold the General's head to a millionaire who collected the heads of historic figures!

Villa's head supposedly ended up in the possession of Yale's Skull & Bones Society...

2. Villa's supposed death mask was hidden in the Radford School in El Paso, Texas.

In the 1980s, this mask was gifted to the History Museum of the Mexican Revolution.

But, the death mask doesn't match up with the museum's other Villa masks...

Notes in Part 2.

[the-last-rat-standing]

For the most part, I totally understand the points behind this post. They make a lot of sense. But I'm just going to counter a few that stood out.

First, with the actors' strike not ending until early November, NCIS didn't get started production again until nearly the end of that month. Which means this episode likely didn't get started until early December. Now, I'm not one to tell people how or how long to grieve, but that means episode 2 didn't get filmed until nearly 2 and a half months after David died. Would the emotions still be fresh? Of course. Just as I'm sure they were when they filmed what they did.

It would not have cost CBS $80m to get Mark Harmon, Cote de Pablo, Joe Spano, Pancho Demmings, Susanna Thompson or the handful of other bit character actors to come back. Not even close. Between Mark leaving ($525k/ep) and Gary Cole coming on ($100k/ep), I think CBS has saved enough in nearly 2 years to splash out for someone other than Michael Weatherly. Was there perhaps a scheduling conflict with some of them? Sure.

Which leads me to the elephant in the room, which is the 'scheduling conflict' of Mark Harmon. If information is correct, he's narrating 'NCIS: Origins'. Yes, he's also an executive producer, but he's also an executive producer of NCIS. He's not running the whole ship. Within the context of the characters, the canon and the actors, there was no reason to not work something out to get Gibbs in the episode. It would be like Mulder dying and only one of the Lone Gunmen shows up to console Skinner. We would be asking why in the world they didn't get Gillian Anderson to show up, by any means necessary. And we could get all the excuses in the world, but we'd still be asking. As I've said in other posts, they brought back one character. One. And with all due respect to MW, it was the wrong one. If nothing else, it only shone a brighter light on how few the show brought back, because at least with Gibbs, it's just Gibbs. With Tony, we've got Ziva. Where was she?

Future episodes are all well and good and this show might surprise me and do Ducky's memory justice. The same way they've done all the other characters who have died justi- um, let's just move on to the next point. But there will never be a 2nd chance to do what they've already done, which was have an episode dedicated to the passing of a great man (both character and actor), without it feeling like they're milking the death for views. They had their chance with this one, to collectively bring the emotions, the actors and the tribute together, and let's be honest, they... I'm not going to say 'failed', because the episode served its purpose, but they certainly fell short.

Both @justagibbsgirl and @i-run-with-scissors39 made a really good point about the Gibbs absence in the Ducky tribute episode- if we'd had a funeral scene, we would've gotten a much deeper emotional impact from a eulogy, the camera could've panned the gathered guests to show a myriad of former characters we've missed over the years, AND, they could've shown Gibbs in the back, unseen by the guests, paying silent tribute to Ducky. Brian Dietzen said Mark Harmon didn't come back because of 'scheduling conflicts', but as @i-run-with-scissors39 said, they could've filmed it separately at any time, because it would've just been him.

But none of this happened. In fact, what really happened in that episode that was memorable? Besides Tony showing up. (I'll get back to that in a minute.) McGee had 1 flashback, Vance had 1 flashback and Jimmy had 4. Jimmy also had the most screen time and was given the most emotional scenes. A lot of that is understandable- he was the only one left with the strongest connection to Ducky. But there were other people with connections to him, too. And we didn't get to see that. The only person outside of the regular cast of season 21 to show up was Tony. I mean, think about that, just for a second. No character outside of the current squad showed up. Not even Tobias! Instead, they handwaved the work/money (?) involved to make something more meaningful happen by showing flowers and Polaroids.

Even the Crime of the Day fell flat. So some girl we've never met is getting hassled by her college because her dead dad's getting slandered in the press by a senator. A senator who, I guess didn't get arrested at the end? Just stepped down from his position? Why did the senator pick that Marine anyway? (I know he served with him, but what was the point in naming that particular Marine?) And if I see one more reference to someone gifting someone a scholarship fund, I don't know if I'll be able to unroll my eyes. And yes, I know the MCSF was a big thing for David McCallum, so it made sense in this context, but the fact there's a Leroy Jethro Gibbs Scholarship Fund joke almost undermined the whole thing. (Would've been nice if they'd had a link at the end of the episode to the MCSF.)

Instead of this random girl and her dead dad, how about a cold case Ducky was working on? Maybe Jimmy sees it on Ducky's desk (or finds it in the secret spot behind a picture /eyeroll) and decides he's going to solve it. The team wants to help but are sceptical it can be done, but Jimmy's absolutely determined to do it, to the point of almost obsession. It would be his way of putting off dealing with Ducky's death while also making one last connection with him. They end up solving it because one of the flashbacks gives an indirect clue. You know, like Ducky's cryptic message to the team about where to find the nothing file behind the photo in his office. /eyeroll again

I loved the fact that Jimmy never took off his lab coat, even though he didn't do any lab work the entire episode. Him walking around the bullpen in his lab coat solving a case was just... well, I guess that's where the show is now, yeah? Sean Murray didn't want to step forward as the face of the show, so Brian Dietzen did. And you know what? Good for him. It's a hell of an arc over 20 years for him. But whether he meant to or not, he ended up making this episode about him. Every emotional thread went through Jimmy; every emotional moment was Jimmy's. When Diona Reasonover's voice cracked in the bullpen ("Any suggestions as to how to do that?"), it felt like the only real moment given to anyone other than Jimmy. Probably because 3 of the team didn't really know Ducky, so they could only experience the loss through other characters. It's why we got Knight reading Ducky's journal to bring up a Gibbs flashback, and it's why Torres did the same with McGee. It's why Parker was in charge of the flowers or something. And I try to remember they're new when I hear Knight say, "Dying quietly in your sleep isn't the worst way to go." JFC, lady.

I dunno. Kate was on for 2 years and I felt the show handled her death with so much more emotion. Her loss rippled through the team and we felt it because we saw the characters feel it. The Ducky episode was a lot of telling rather than showing, and what showing they did was through Jimmy instead of a handful of the hundreds of people whose lives Ducky touched in 20 years.

Oh, and Tony. Great to see one of the Originals, and Tony, in small doses, can bring the depth the scene needs. But being tacked onto the end of the episode made it fell exactly what it was- a surprise cameo to wow the fans rather than a true nod of respect to Ducky/David.

It should've been more. It could've been more.

[evita-shelby]

Between the Shadow and the Soul

Chapter 11

5/26/22- turns out I accidentally deleted it lol

Cw: racism, slutshaming, mentions of death

Gif by @nofckingfightinging

"You turned cloak so many times in that war, I wonder if your husband knows how cheap your loyalty is.” he says as if he’s caught her, but even if he spent his life trying to find Tommy's weakness, he wouldn’t find it with her. 

Eva knew he would follow her there. A park bench while she reads a book about poetry. People used to give her looks, some good some bad, but it was those types of looks that reminded you where the Americans got their racism. But that changed when Tommy noticed her, everyone feared him and it was in their best interest that Eva Shelby, nee Smith, was treated as if her skin was as pale as her husband’s. 

Irene O'Donnell eyed her with intrigue while Donnal Henry eyed her like she was dog shit on his boot. Campbell looks at her like she was put on this earth to make his life miserable. 

“I was a spy for the rebels, sir, a much better one than Grace seeing I fooled everyone into thinking that. Do you know how easy it was for me to expose her?” Eva loathes Grace, not only because somehow the insipid little cunt managed to creep in like the snake she is, but also because she was just so fucking awful at her job. Had she been a spy in Mexico she wouldn’t have lasted ten minutes. "Two conversations with her and your god-awful idea to meet in the cemetery where everyone can see you, and by the next day I had told Polly and Thomas what I’d seen.” 

Eva hates ineptitude just as much as she hates the idea of sharing her husband. 

“She served her purpose well enough.” He said angry that a foreign witch was the one who helped Thomas Shelby evade justice. 

“Did you know I was given a gray filly just like the one my husband bought recently for my services by Pancho Villa?” Eva is not one to brag about her time in Villa’s army ---after its inglorious end who can really--- but Campbell is an exception. Its burns him that a twenty-six-year-old housewife has done more for her country than he has for his. Although an Irishman on the side of his people’s oppressors must have no pride. “You see I sounded so American by the time I finished boarding school, no one could tell I was from Mexico. Except for my coloring, obviously.” 

“And then killed when you refused to give up your chastity to the general you served, an admirable thing, you were a girl of twenty all alone.” he says as if the majority of Mexico wasn’t composed of Catholics. 

“Shame Grace couldn’t keep her legs closed, not a very good Protestant girl, was she? Should have seen how eager she was to jump in his bed, all of Small Heath knew she was whore by then, flirting with both Arthur and Thomas.” Although who could blame Grace, Tommy was great in bed ---if a little tame. Linda seemed to be really enjoying Arthur’s bed, going by her blushes, even if she has to step into the Sodom and Gomorrah that is the Eden Club. 

“This isn’t about Mrs. Macmillian, Mrs. Shelby.” Normally Eva is above calling women sluts and whores for having sex, but it hurts Campbell to have Grace be slandered so. 

 “You know I’ve seen your death in the cards, let's just say if you thought being shot by a woman was embarrassing, imagine being killed by one.” Eva never plans on letting him get to the point, she could talk the ears off a person if she set her mind to it. 

“Are you threatening me, Mrs. Shelby?” he says tensing and Eva simply shrugs. 

“No, I don’t need to threaten people, I simply tell them what the Universe has said to me, you see, Major, I am a witch cursed to see the future.” her voice is barely above a whisper, low and sweet like poison made with honey. “Think of me as Cassandra of Troy, cursed with prophecies that will never be believed.” 

----

“You can hardly tell you’re pregnant, you know. I was like that with Danny.” Esme says when Eva comes in through the betting shop, it was much faster than using the other door. Daniel Owen Shelby was Esme’s boy, named after Danny Whizz-Bang. He was John’s fifth child, but Esme’s first and only child. “I hope I can have a pregnancy as good as yours was. I’m sacred of dying like my sister or the baby dying, but it's stupid because the universe has shown me this little one will have three younger sisters.” Eva touches her stomach as if to assure herself that she won’t die like Felicidad did.  

“If Tommy is anything like John, those girls of yours will be spoiled rotten. He already bought Katie earrings because he didn’t want her to feel left out when he got Daisy some for her birthday.” Esme says with a laugh. If you’d look at her with Katie, Johnny, Daisy and Robbie you’d think she’d birthed them with how much they loved her and she loved them. Even Daisy who was thinking herself grown at ten and would be unbearable in her teenage years. 

“I just know he will.” Eva gets the sudden feeling of someone walking up to the betting shop, a woman she’s heard about, but has never met. “I’ll get the door; I think we are about to have an unexpected guest.” 

May Carleton was beautiful, in that English heiress type of way. Stunning woman really and ironically both Eva and Tommy’s type. If Eva wasn’t married, she’d definitely try and see if she could get anywhere with her. “I have an appointment with Mr. Thomas Shelby.” 

No hello, no may I come in, nothing is even politely asked and she enters in a way Eva can only describe as Hernan Cortes entering Tenochtitlan already planning how he’s going to oust Moctezuma. 

“May Carleton,” May extends her hand to Eva, but Eva eyes it with suspicion. Tommy had told her about her flirting with him ---unfortunately he played dumb when she asked about Grace’s letters, so that’s going to end badly--- and the way she came in here like a colonizer feels a little insulting. 

“He usually takes appointments at his proper office.” Eva says wondering how to politely kick her out. She can bet Moctezuma had similar thoughts on how to shake off the Spanish. 

“This was the address he gave me.” May drops her hand, feeling the sting. Eva was being rude, but why the hell May Carleton think anyone would be nice to her here.  

“He gave you this address?” Esme asks standing by Eva in what can only be seen as solidarity. 

“He said this was a gambling den. I told him I wanted to see one since I’m always reading about them in the papers.” now it made sense. Bored rich girl, Eva hated those. Always tried to make her their pet project, always stealing someone else’s boyfriend for shits and giggles and always treating the working class like this circus oddity they can pay to see. “Quite the big scandal in the Telegraph lately. Anyway, he said, I could, uhm, take a look.” 

Esme looks at May with incredulity and Eva has that try me bitch look she perfected when she was sixteen and Oneida Villareal Diaz tried to make her life a living hell. Probably likes tonic water too. 

Eva already hates her and it's not even about May setting her sights on her charming criminal of a husband. 

“And now I feel like a bit of an idiot, because I’m early and he’s late and I have no idea how to behave.” she says almost nervously. 

“In a Gambling Den?” Esme doesn’t take kindly to being a spectacle for a rich white woman to enjoy. 

“I'll go wait in the car.” May has the decency to appear apologetic, not that it would save her. The Lees are famous for their resentment. 

“Oh, you don’t have to. He’ll be here in maybe five minutes; he is very punctual. I am Eva Shelby.” this time Eva offers her hand. The Mexican Spanish accent feels more pronounced and Eva isn’t sure if she should have done that on purpose. With Oneida and her posse of rich mean girls, it was the opposite. The more Irish she sounded the better. Remind them, she was the foreign European one. Didn’t help she was darker than them, which was why they always thought her beneath them. All that culminated with Eva ‘accidentally’ pushing Oneida down a few steps so she’d hurt her ankle and Eva would be playing both Odette and Odile in their school’s rendition of Tchaikovsky's Swan Lake. She hates Swan Lake, but boy does she love revenge. 

“So, what brings you here, Miss Carleton?" Eva asks in that sweet polite manner of hers that she uses on strangers. 

“I am going to train his racehorse, for Epsom.” she says still taking everything in, reminding Eva about how Oneida looked at the offices by the port and how surprised she was to see how well off the Smith Rileys lived. After all they did benefit from the Porfiriato up until the Americans destroyed their ships. 

“You know horses?” Esme asks as if she didn’t believe posh Miss Carelton was a horse trainer. 

“Yes, you?” May asks and now Eva wonders if she judged May wrong. 

“Born riding. Slept in a manger when I was a baby.” Esme answers, a softness about her face when she recalls her childhood. 

John comes in, complaining about May’s car. And Tommy comes in just as John assumes Eva is feeling threatened by the beautiful heiress. 

“Sorry I’m late,” he clears his throat and John backs down. “There was a business matter.” he doesn’t kiss Eva’s cheek like he always does and that just annoys her more. He orders for Esme and John to keep the place locked for a while and Eva wonders if she is supposed to cockblock them to prevent May Carleton from getting the idea Tommy is unattached, or leave in a huff before she does something immature like trip her. She trusts her husband, but she doesn’t trust Carelton to keep Carelton to keep her lily-white hands off her man. 

“You hate her, don’t you?” he asks knowing the answer to his question. Lucky for Eva they have the house for themselves since Finn likes spending the night at Polly’s because he misses her and Arthur has gotten a place in London above the Eden Club. 

“I don’t know her enough to hate her, but the impression she has given me leaves her in the same spot as the girls who made my life hell in boarding school. Walked into the betting shop like a fucking colonizer.” Eva groaned and he laughs at her choice of words. She may be more Irish than Nahua, but she was raised to know colonialism is evil and how it looks. Every foreign country owned and enslaved mexicans with their factories in Mexico. “Did she drink Tonic Water? The bitchy rich girls always drank that.” 

“You drink it too, love.” he points out and once again Eva finds herself forgetting she’s a little angry at him. Here acting like everything is fine while cleaning up after dinner. Him being playful with her and reminding her how horny pregnancy has made her. 

“Don’t do that.” she says reminding herself it's now or never. 

“Do what, Evie?” he asks bracing himself for the inevitable fight they are hurdling to. 

“That thing you do where you make me forget that I am actually pretty fucking mad at you, Tommy.” she says angrily. “I know about those letters Grace has written to you and to top it all off, you didn’t even bother correcting Carleton when she assumed you were unmarried today.”  

If Tommy thought her pretty when she was mad, she’d look fucking gorgeous tonight. 

---

Notes:

happy new years, i was bored in my room and wrote this all in one sitting, yay!

First things first, only Katie, who I assume is the younger daughter since she is still peeing the bed in season 1, is named. I gave them names here. In order they are: Daisy, Robert (robbie), John Jr (Johnny) and Katie. the baby Esme had between seasons is named Daniel Owen after Danny Whizz Bang who gets killed by Billy Kimber in season 1.

May Carleton gave me bitchy rich girl vibes at first, didn't dislike her as much as i dislike Grace ---who I just think sucks as a charcter, spy , but excels as a ghost--- or Tatiana ---who is just an awful person and kinda annoying.

The Porfiriato is the title given to the thirty-one years (seven presidential terms)President Porfirio Diaz was in power in Mexico. guy started out sort of good, but became a tyrant who favored foreign investments, industrailism without care about people's rights and literally killed his oppnents. his regime lead to the Second Revolution that kinda ended up almost exactly the same. The US originally backed the rebels until the Rebels started raiding them because they were still pissed about the US orchestrating the Mexican-American War to steal half of what is now the continetnial US. the 2nd revolution would make a fantasitic m-rated period drama, has a lot of violence, back stabbing, politics and at one point 41 queer men were exsposed at a dance (there's a movie called El Baile de los 41/the Dance of the 41) one of them being Diaz's son-in-law.

[shelli-gator]

I love the thought that by now Pancho is just lovingly accepted as the local felon. He may steal your underwear for fun, but he isn't hurting anyone. It's like owning a ferret, except this ferret is going to actively try to pawn off your stuff before you can get there and argue with him for a hot minute about whether the finders keepers rule should apply if he found it while breaking into your house. You'll probably get your stuff back too.

He most likely hides his valuables under his furniture like any good ferret would. And I mean look at him, if he was really a threat he would be locked up for a lot longer than he is. Ted and Clover just slap him on the wrist at this point because it's more effort to fill out all that paperwork again for what, stealing underwear? Grave robbing? Selling blenders without a license? Fuck it man just let the little gremlin do what he wants.

Also no one is allowed to stay mad at him. It's like a law or something. Look at this man and tell him to his face that you're mad at him.

I'll just give him my wallet. And by some cosmic justice I'll get it back eventually for being nice to him.

[ilkkawhat]

why a father needs his son

[ok i guess i can no longer complain about not writing cause i just wrote this little thing about judge stokes and nick during grave danger]

He’s spent plenty of time as a judge of the most horrific crimes before. All of the events detailed and argued out in front of him by all of the cards that are flashed in front of his eyes. Bets placed that the defendant is not as guilty as they are being charged with. Objections that whatever conclusion the jury comes to will never give the justice the broken victims deserve. 

And he’s even watched those victims sitting in the palm of his left hand as his right strikes down the mallet that decides their fate. Do they get to live with the satisfaction that the monster who put them in this box will get their comeuppance, or will they forever live in fear that it’ll happen to them all over again?

Assuming that the victim is alive, that is. 

And that’s what his son is. 

Alive.

He’s alive. 

He’s alive and stuffed in a box, but not the same one in his courtroom chambers. Not a safe place, where the utmost respect and civility is given to even the most vile of offenders, so long as they don’t burst out—and oh, how he wants to burst out himself right now, seeing his boy. 

Trapped.

Alone. 

His fate sealed by a hammer that isn’t held by a righteous judge such as himself.

And more so than ever before, he’s absolutely powerless to stop it. 

One of the most revered judges in all of Texas forced into a witness stand of his own, while the real judge, jury and executioner put his son on the most grueling trial he’ll ever face.

A trial for his life. 

He’s seen his boys get in trouble before, as boys tend to do. Broken bones and split lips, even the occasional dumbass decision that lands them in the occasional detention or suspension or even a night in jail. Their heads as hot as the mallet’s head on his own hammer, he knows that their passions tend to blind them and they wander away from the path he’s tried so hard to forge for them. To not let them make the same mistakes he’s made so many times before. 

To give him a purpose to keep going, because he knows they’re following behind him like eager ducklings.

But Nick was always the last one in line, falling behind the safety of his shadow. 

“Ah, Pancho...what the hell you got yourself into?” was a phrase he uttered often, with varying levels of bemusement and anger depending on the severity of his youngest son’s antics.

But this time...his voice is laced with nothing but bargaining despair, as if that would be enough for Nick to address the camera that’s recording every movement, every breath that ticks away like the seconds counting down to the end of his life. To tell his father he messed up, he needs help, he needs his Dad—

For some reason, he feels it’s more of the opposite. 

He needs his son now more than ever. 

He needs Nick to survive this.

He needs Nick to come home.

[kuramirocket]

History of Corridos

Historically, music has been used as a tool for preserving and recounting stories without having to learn how to read or write. In the early 1900s, Mexican revolutionists produced a new genre of music that would serve as a tool for story telling known as Corridos.

The translation of Corridos means, “to run,” in Spanish from the conjugate,“correr.” Corridos are a sort of ballad consisting of a salutation, an introduction to the story, a moral, and a farewell. This genre reflects on the experiences of Mexican oppression and adversity for both men and women. Corridos have taken off since the 1920s and have forever preserved the stories of revolutionists like, Emiliano Zapata, Pascual Orozco, and Pancho Villa. This genre told the stories of men and also women. For example, Cecilia Rascon told the story of the Soldaderas, the women who joined with revolutionaries like the Zapatistas in the fight for education and land.

The Art of Creating a Corrido

The rhythm of these songs relates to the contents of the story. Structured like a Ballad, this genre of music is diverse and reflects different regions throughout Latin America. Corrido groups categorize themselves as norteno, banda, and duranguense, among others.

Post-Revolution Corridos 

Corridos continue to be a popular genre in many parts of Mexico today. These post-revolution Corridos have taken on a new identity and began preserving the experiences and stories of immigrant workers and fathers. One artist located in Athens, GA has adapted the term “Undocu-Corridos” to reflect on the genre’s reorientation to the immigrant experience and the feelings that come with being undocumented.

Who is Beto Cacao

Beto Mendoza who goes by Beto Cacao is a Mexican musician and activist living in Athens, GA. The artist comes from a musical family with uncles and brothers who play guitar, the flute, and pan-pipes. Cacao’s music focuses on how immigration laws have shaped the Mexican identity, and the status of “dreamers.” In his album Undocorridos, Mendoza writes, “Mexican culture is an oral tradition, [ corridos] have been the perfect medium to preserve those stories and highlight the popular culture and keep alive people’s voice, “la voz del pueblo.”

Some songs Mendoza has written include Somos Corridos (We’re Pushed Out), Los Inmigrantes de Stillmore (The Immigrants of Stillmore), DWH (Driving While Hispanic), and Dicen Que la Migra (They say “ICE” is-). Each song holds a significant meaning and story to the immigrants in the state of Georgia.

Los Inmigrantes de Stillmore refers to a roundup of undocumented immigrants in the Georgia town of Stillmore. This song depicts imagery of immigrants hiding in the woods, and the pain of families that have been broken up, “There is no justice for the poultry workers. [It does] Not matter they pays taxes; they are treated as criminals.” Cacao’s song DWH (Driving While Hispanic) makes commentary about how all 50 states have yet to allow undocumented immigrants to obtain a driver’s license.

As of 2021, only 16 US states allow for undocumented immigrants to obtain a drivers license. In the Corrido, officers arrest immigrants for “driving while hispanic” by asking one simple question, “Can I see your driver’s license?” One of Cacao’s most important message is his Corrido, Dicen Que la Migra (They Say “ICE” is- ).

This song combines the storytelling of Corridos with advice for immigrants everywhere, “If they come for your home and knock on your door, don’t open, silly, or the beast would take you along with them, and if they request papers, you have rights, make sure to assert them.” 

[animegafan]

Segundo día / Primer aporte

Queda bien la excusa de hora ecuatoriana (olvidando que es un imaginario construido para justificar la tardía)???? ok no.

Hace añooooos que no termino un dibujo (literalmente) y me emocioné con la #EcuPerWeek2020 así que la culpa es mía y de la vaca. Iba a poner el dibujo ayer pero la vida tuvo otros planes.

Ahora… me dejo de quejar. Quería dibujar a mis queridos dorks siendo cariñosos porque con este año lo necesitaba. Además, estaba leyendo unos textos sobre las relaciones internacionales y diplomáticas de Ecuador y OMG, al ver unos análisis de académicos sobre la situación actual de ambos es como *Relationship Goals*.  

Por cierto! el diseño de la chaqueta de Pancho es de Zuleta (aquel pueblo donde hay bordados bonitos)…. Siento que no les hice un buen honor pero pero I tried lol.

….. Creo que un requisito para ser diplomático de Ecuador o Perú es shippear a EcuPer  (ok, no pero pareciera así por los ensayos que muchos escriben)

DAY 2 / First Input

So…. For no one’s surprise I am late late laaaate. (can I say it’s ecuadorean hour? yes/no? ok).

It’s been years (legit, years) since I finished a draw and I might have gotten a bit excited with the EcuPer Week so I have no one to blame for being late but myself…. and life. I was gonna post yesterday (since, you know, it was the first day) but Murphy’s law came to kick me down.

Putting my complaining aside. I wanted to draw my two darling dorks being sweet to each other because I needed it lol. Plus, I was reading some academic texts regarding Ecuador’s international relations and wow…. Some of the descriptions made by diplomatic are the description of *Relationship Goals*

BTW! Pancho’s jacket design (meaning the attempt at flowers and such) was based in the Zuleta embroidery, which is an ecuadorean city that mostly specializes in gorgeous embroidery (although I didn’t do the real designs any justice…. I tried lol).

...As another side note. I have come to the unrealistic conclusion that in order to be an Ecuadorean or Peruvian diplomatic, being an EcuPer Shipper is a must! (ok, no but it looks like it if the essays most of them write are any indication).

[bisexualstokes-archive]

A Walk in the Woods (2/4)

Chapter (2/4): The Troublesome Twins Rating: Teen+ Chapter Summary: Parker goes on a roller coaster of emotions, as tension rises and comes to a breaking point as Nick disappears into the Earth. Chapter Notes: Discussion of animal violence, some hurtful things said to a boy who just really loves dogs but don’t worry...justice will be served. Also, this fic is gonna be longer than I anticipated lol so double the chapters!

@letswaitforme​, @deltajackdalton​, @impossiblepluto​ OH MAN HERE WE GO

Previous Chapter | Read on ao3

His batteries died about three hours into the twelve hour car ride. He was allowed to bring his GameBoy, but not his cell phone--nobody was allowed to bring their phones, and for the fact that the battery of the GameBoy wouldn’t have lasted longer than the car ride, anyway. He threw his head back against the seat in frustration and boredom, how could anybody survive twelve hours, strapped down into some sort of physical stasis, unable to move with nothing but their own mind to entertain them? 

Nick and Eli seemed to have no trouble with the daunting task, chatting about Eli’s life, Nick telling Eli how proud he is that he’s doing so well, that he’s going to school, that he has a job, living the life that his father would have wanted for him. Blah, blah, blah. The same dialogue that Parker has heard all of his life, in regards to Eli Brown. He wishes he could just skip through it. 

Even Sam had seemed invested in the conversation, he was allowed to roam free in the car, though Nick would tell him to sit back right before a sharp turn, so that the poor dog wouldn’t lose his footing. Otherwise, Sam would perch himself between the driver’s and passenger’s seat, which earned him praise from Nick and Eli, who would take turns rubbing the top of his head as they continued to talk.

About halfway there, they stopped for a bathroom break, Nick was walking around with Sam, allowing him to take as much time as he needed to go to the bathroom. Eli and Parker waited by the car, stretching idly. Parker was grateful for the silence, he felt drained from just listening to all the talking, though found that his unused voice was hoarse when he took the rare initiative in asking a question to Eli.

“So...these trips...do you guys really kill…?” Parker asked hesitantly, clearing his throat. He knows his father told him that they wouldn’t, that he wouldn’t, but he had convinced himself that was a lie to convince Parker to come. That the minute they showed up, he would be given a gun and told to “prove himself,” as his cousins had described.

Eli smiled and shook his head. A stupidly handsome smile. He could hear his dad’s voice complimenting it, telling Eli how much he looked like his father. 

“Nah, bro--”

I’m not your “bro…”

“That’s not Uncle Nick’s scene. He and I usually just go hiking, taking in the sights. We usually find a spot to just sit and...watch. He’s got his binoculars, I got my sketchpad. It’s really relaxing, you’re gonna love it. Beyond that, we get to just...talk. About anything. Everything. It’s a huge release.”

Parker nodded, grateful that he didn’t have to actually participate in the hunting. He had seen his dad armed with a gun before, but couldn’t imagine seeing him in the same way he’s seen his cousins playing with BB guns at the Stokes Ranch during the holidays. He couldn’t imagine himself in that way, for that matter. 

“You know, he’s really happy that you’re coming with this year. Never stops talking about you,” Eli leaned on Parker’s shoulder casually, to which Parker reacted by attempting to shrug him off, but was too distracted by the shocking words Eli told him to notice. 

“Really?” Parker muttered. Eli winked as Nick walked towards them, beckoning them all back into the car.

“Alright boys, we’re halfway there!” Nick shouted as he and Sam got closer, in a sing-song voice that made Eli beam with joy.

“Ohhhhhh-oh! Livin’ on a prayer!” Eli sang back, he and Nick fell into a head-banging dance of joy.

“Take my hand, we’ll make it, I swear…” Parker sang hap-hazardly, unsure if he would ruin the moment by joining in, but another surprise, as his dad looked at him in wonder, and continued the song.

The next six hours of the car ride were filled with Parker joining in on the fun, and he thought to himself, maybe this trip wouldn’t be so bad after all, maybe Eli wouldn’t hog all of the attention from Nick like he normally did, maybe the hike would be as relaxing as Eli made it out to seem.

Maybe he could finally tell his dad all the things he wanted to say to him, no holds barred, all cards on the table. He could tell him everything. 

They parked on the outskirts and unpacked most of the car, it was a short hike to the campsite that was already in the usual state of chaos Parker was used to walking into during their visits to the Stokes Ranch, except void of the high-pitched, playful screams of his female cousins and sister. Just loud mouthed, goofy boys. 

“Still got that dog of yours, Nicky?” his Uncle Steve remarked, shaking his father’s hand. “Dog’s older than young Billy here!” 

“Yeah, well, this dog’s got as many lives as I do. Doesn’t know when to quit. Just like me,” Nick added in a playful growl, gripping his brother’s hand a little tighter than needed. A small twitch in his eye went unnoticed by Steve Stokes, who moved on to shaking Eli’s hand eagerly.

“Eli! Nice to see you again, Jesus--you’re gettin’ to be as tall as Nick!” Uncle Steve joked, patting his brother on the top of his head. Parker knew that his father wasn’t exactly “short” but he was the shortest out of his brothers. He could tell he wasn’t too happy about being teased about his height. “That, or maybe young Parker here is gonna be towering over you some day! Get over here, Parker!” 

“Hi, Uncle Steve,” Parker murmured sheepishly, allowing his body to be encompassed into a bear hug.

“You know, boy, you don’t have to stay behind your Daddy all weekend, you can come hang out with the big boys, if ya want,” Steve whispered into his nephew’s ear. “Otherwise, you’ll miss out on all the fun…” 

Parker looked over to his younger cousins, running around, talking, laughing, having fun as they got things ready, nets and arrows and loaded guns. If he didn’t know better, he’d think they were preparing for a battle.

“Nah, I’m good, Uncle Steve. Thanks, though.” Parker muttered, but his uncle had already broken away from him, to go playfully shout at his own children as they were tying up their other cousins to a tree.

“Pancho! There you are!” an older, rougher voice cut through all the white noise. Nick winced, somehow a once comforting, pleasant nickname brought a sense of alertness, attention, and adrenaline. But, he plastered a smile as his father got up to greet the last of the hunting trip party. “What took you so long?”

“He got lost,” Eli nudged Nick in the shoulder, before walking over to Todd, who greeted him with a hand shake into a hug. 

“Course he did. Good to see you, Eli--and there he is, man of the hour! Park!” Another tight hug, this time from his grandfather. “C’mere, it’s time you’re given ‘The Talk.’”

“The...talk?” Parker looked to his dad, who just nodded encouragingly. 

“UNCLE NIIIIIIIIICK!” 

Two young boys ran up to Nick, Billy and Jake, twins, aged thirteen. Steve’s kids. Always a year ahead, Steve Stokes. 

“Did you bring your gun!?” Jake asked excitedly.

Nick cleared his throat, slightly uncomfortable with the question. Of course he brought his gun, his 9mm pistol which he carries with him everywhere.

“Yeah,” he sighed, taking it out from behind his back. He held it out for the boys to see. He did promise them last year, that he would “bring it this year” (though he had the gun with him at the time, but they were too distracted by having their first opportunity to hunt to really prod their uncle. 

“Whoa!”

“Cool!”

“It’s just like a cop’s!” 

“Have you killed anything with it?” Billy asked in a gasp, reached out for it, but Nick took it away. 

“It’s not a toy,” Nick reminded him, avoided the question. The boys’ faces fell, discouraged, and Nick felt a twinge of regret for ruining the tone, but being asked the same question all of these years was really starting to get on his nerves. He should have never told his family about the restaurant incident. “Here, wanna see something funny? Here, go put this--” He reached into a pocket and pulled out a dog treat. “--Into your father’s back pocket.”

Jake distracted his father as Billy did just that, and then the boys returned to Nick for the punchline.

“Watch this...Sam! Aller chercher la friandise!”

It took Sam no time at all to find the treat, and soon he was digging into Steve’s back pocket, nearly taking his pants off of him to an uproar of laughter from the Stokes men.

The camp was set up and dinner was made before the sun dove down beneath the trees. Parker yawned, exhausted from the long drive and sudden exertion of energy, and happily dove into the tent as Grandpa Cisco bid everyone good night.

“Alright, boys, tomorrow comes early! Y’all get some shut-eye, we leave at the first sight of dawn.”

Parker wrapped himself up in his sleeping bag, his body felt comfortable, but couldn’t seem to keep his eyes closed. His head was turned to his dad, who was staring straight up at the top of the tent with a clenched jaw. He closed his eyes, seemed to mutter something, before rolling onto his left arm, away from his son. Parker pursed his lips, furrowed his eyebrows, his weariness faded into a determination to watch his father, who seemed unable to get comfortable.

“First night’s always the roughest,” Eli whispered from behind Parker, nearly making him jump out of his bag. “I can’t sleep either.”

Typical nerves that come with sleeping in another place away from home, Parker understood that enough. He’s never quite gotten used to hotel rooms, during vacations, or to his father’s childhood bed during the holiday stays in Texas. He knew he would struggle sleeping on the ground, but didn’t think his dad would. He thought of all the hotel rooms, shared rooms in family’s guest rooms. Either Parker or Madison were given the comfy bed, his dad would take the chair or the floor, but would always fall asleep sitting up.

Maybe he doesn’t like being on his back?

“He’ll toss and turn for a bit, probably won’t get a whole lotta sleep, but he’ll be okay. Might hear a scream or two.”

Parker’s eyes widened, unsure if Eli was joking or not.

His eyes would have widened even more, as his dad rolled over to his other side, wincing a little, shutting his eyes tight. Still muttering, Parker couldn’t make out what it was over Eli’s gentle snoring. 

Guess Eli was more tired than he let on.

“Dad?” The quietest whisper, laced with concern, somehow seemed to ease Nick out of his restless dreaming.

“Park? You okay, buddy?”

The crinkles of Nick’s face softened into a loving look of concern at his son, as he cupped a hand onto Parker’s cheek. Nick’s eyes darted all over Parker’s face, mapping out the replacement of what he thought was the source of an imaginary fan.

“Yeah, Dad, I’m fine. Just...can’t sleep,” Parker muttered sheepishly. “Too excited,” he added, in an effort to cheer his dad up, though he wasn’t really all that excited.

It worked, a half-smile spread across Nick’s face. 

“Me too. Gonna be a long day tomorrow, though, try to close your eyes…” He stroked his son’s cheek as Parker eventually fell into a dream of a long drive, just him and his dad, sharing a comfortable silence as they watched the road disappear behind them.

He hoped that the events of the next day would be just as peaceful, but a wake-up call from Jake and Billy whooping loudly started him off in an irritated mood. His mood didn’t get any better, as Jake and Billy continued to berate their younger cousin. They had already claimed their first victim, an innocent squirrel, shot down from a tree by Billy’s homemade sling-shot.

“Scared you might hurt something, Parker?” Billy sneered, not seeming to understand Parker’s love for animals. “They’re gonna die anyway, we’re just putting them out of their misery.”

“Yeah, and back in the olden days, our ancestors needed to hunt to survive!” Jake backed his brother up.

“Oh, please, like you know anything about ‘the olden days.’ Didn’t you have to go to summer school for history, Jakey? Besides, guns aren’t toys. A-and death isn’t some sort of...game.” 

“Says the boy who lives in video games.”

“And who’s dad is a cop!”

“Yeah, but video games aren’t real! And my dad isn’t a cop. He’s a scientist.”

“Well, our dad told us he’s shot someone before. A few people, actually.”

“Yeah, shot them dead.”

Parker balled up his fingers into a fist, breathed fast and deep through his nostrils. 

“He...I’m sure he had to do it.”

“What, can’t handle the fact that your daddy isn’t as perfect as you thought he was? Pfft.” 

“I never said he was perfect--”

“I’m surprised he hasn’t shot your dog yet, he’s getting pretty old. Our dad put our oldest one out of its misery, before it started suffering really badly.”

Parker was fuming, he wanted nothing more than to shove his cousin off of a cliff, wound him, let him run around injured, chase him, make him feel the same fear that they put those poor, harmless animals through with their damn hunting.

He was about to raise his fist, push it into Billy’s face, when a hand on his shoulder made him release his grip. For a second, his heart leapt, he thought it was his dad--but he turned around, and saw Eli, with a stone cold expression on his face. 

“Boys, this weekend is supposed to be about having fun, and well, it looks like to me that we’re not having fun right now, are we? Don’t wanna get Papa Cisco all cranky, do we?” 

Eli’s words brought a cooling wave of silence over the hotheaded boys. Billy dramatically stomped his foot on the ground before running a hand through his hair.

“Whatever! We’re going to have so much more fun than you guys, anyway!” Billy scoffed. 

“Yeah, have fun with your bird watching and stupid drawings!” Jake cried out as they began to run off their excess energy around the camp in some imaginary game.

“Hey! Eli’s drawings aren’t stupid!” Parker shouted back to them. He took a few deep breaths, dug his head into his hands, turning away from all of the adults, who seemed unaware of the entire argument. Even if they were, it was only natural for young boys to “duke it out,” as his Uncle Todd would put it. They wouldn’t have paid attention to what it was about...unless Parker did get his hands on Billy. 

“Thanks...but I don’t need you to defend me,” Parker muttered as Eli pat him on the back. 

“Can’t help it. You’re like a little bro to me, Parker. From what I gather, brothers stand up for each other.” 

Another pat on the back, which rocked Parker a little forward as he sniffled and nodded to Eli, who walked back towards the other adults.

Parker stood alone, watching the two troublesome twins--he almost wanted to smile at the alliteration, get his other, younger cousins to join as the adults continued to exchange stories, laugh, have fun. Parker felt so out of place, not belonging in either group. Why did he even come here?

“Hey, buddy, you ready?” 

Nick’s voice startled his son, who quickly wiped his eyes.

“Y-yeah, let’s go.”

“You all right?” 

“Yeah, Dad, I’m fine. Let’s go.”

Nick bent down a little, made direct eye contact with his son. For some reason, Parker thought he saw a flash of blood spatter on his dad’s face, from the victims he’s shot down, hopefully in the line of duty. 

“I’m fine,” Parker repeated in a snarl. He brushed past his dad, picked up his backpack from the tent. “So, where’re we goin’?”

His accent was getting thicker, an accent he only had from being around his family for so long. An accent that was only obvious when he was upset. Nick inhaled deeply, tried to fight down the urge to interrogate his son, on why he was all of the sudden so gloomy.

He is a preteen, after all. 

“We’re gonna go this way. Yo, Eli! Let’s roll!” 

Nick and his boys started their hike, though Todd, Billy and Todd’s son Flynn followed closely behind until they reached a crossroads. Nick and Todd had made friendly idle chit-chat, discussing what trails they wanted to go on throughout the week, asked each other about their jobs and families.

Meanwhile, Parker and Billy exchanged offensive gestures.

After a final, silently spoken curse word to Billy and about thirty minutes of distance from the cretin, Parker was starting to feel better, calmer. Nick would occasionally stop the group, pointing out birds perched on branches, Eli snapping photos of various wildlife and general forest aesthetic. Sam trotted along, sniffing the ground, attempted to eat things that Nick would tell him to spit out.

Parker, meanwhile, was imagining that he was in a video game, that he had a user interface in front of him, picking up rocks, sticks and berries and placing them into his “inventory.”  

He was finally at peace, finally enjoying himself, when he heard a gunshot in the distance--if he didn’t know better, it had almost sounded like thunder, followed by an uproar of cheers and whoops, to which Nick, Eli and Parker did not join in. Sam had stopped, alert, but Nick released him with a command.

“First kill,” Eli told Parker, a deer caught in headlights. He moved to put a hand on Parker’s shoulder, ground him back to the earth before he flew away into a panic, but Parker shrugged him off before his fingers made contact.

“Whuh-Why are we even on this trip, if we’re not hunting with them?” Irritation laced in his voice, embarrassed that a stupid gunshot had startled him.

Nick knew this question was coming, and yet he still didn’t know what to tell him.

“Tradition,” he said simply.

“But, you don’t even like it!” 

“Yeah, but the family does. Sometimes, you do things for your family, even if you don’t want to. It’s just part of loving them, I guess.”

“Yeah, but there’s loving Uncle Todd and Uncle Steve and Papa Cisco and then there’s killing harmless, innocent animals!” Parker protested. Nick and Eli kept walking, kept silent, let the young Stokes vent out his frustrations. 

“A-and I get it, you know, I get we eat animals, I get we eat fish, and cows and chickens but, I just...don’t get killing things just for, what? Tradition? I mean, what’s so fun about that? Why would you make such a violent act a tradition?! Those animals did nothing wrong--”

“Well, to play devil’s advocate, sometimes they do hunt predators--” Eli began.

“Yeah, and that’s just like killing a serial killer, or something. Still doesn’t make it right. You’re still a killer.”

“Sometimes, it’s kill or be killed, Parker,” Nick finally spoke, in a low voice. 

Silence from the group, a fever built up inside Parker, something rose up his chest, and flew out of his mouth, his heart had barely had time to catch up to it. He stopped walking, Eli and Sam stopped a few moments later, noticing that he had fallen behind. 

“You would know, wouldn’t you, Dad?” Parker spat, letting his frustration get the better of him before he had time to think about what he was implying.

Nick kept walking, silent, didn’t say a word. Eli shook his head and kept walking, Sam circled around Parker to his side, nudging him to keep going.

“Billy told me! He told me you’ve shot someone--Not even an animal, a human!” Parker shouted to his dad, who was more than a few feet ahead at this point, almost running. 

“Drop it, Park, it’s not the time,” Eli shouted in a hushed whisper.

“I thought part of this trip was to finally tell the truth, say what’s on your mind?” Parker bellowed loudly. “C’mon, Dad, just tell me!”

He could just barely see his dad in the distance, could just barely see as his body suddenly sank into the earth. A loud gasp, a shattering shriek, the sound of something cracking in the air, louder than the gunshot he heard a few minutes ago--Did his dad vanish in the air? Shrink down to the ground? Fall off the edge of the cliff? Parker’s heart was pounding with the possibilities of what might have happened, and he began to run towards the source, to investigate.

He was once again grabbed by the shoulder, dragged slightly backwards, as he nearly fell into the hole, himself. The hole that his father had landed in, a hole that was more than six feet deep--maybe twice that? It might as well have stretched all the way to hell itself, for all Parker cared. His father was trapped, bleeding from the head, his leg bent in a position that he’s only seen Madison achieve with her dolls--it was definitely not right.

“Dad!” Parker screamed down into the hole, for some sign that his father was still alive, because everything seemed to pulse along with Parker’s body, he couldn’t tell if his father was breathing or not.

Nick didn’t respond.

[mst3kproject]

1105: The Beast of Hollow Mountain

I have a personal fucking grudge against this movie.  When I was… I dunno, maybe six or seven, I went to an event at the city zoo that featured a talk by paleontologist Robert Bakker (I still have the Ornithomimus he drew for me) and a screening of an absolutely, non-ironically fantastic movie about cowboys and dinosaurs in Mexico.  Since I was a child, I never bothered to remember the title of this film and so years later when I fondly remembered it, of course I couldn’t find it to watch it again. Until one day, flipping through banged-up VHS tapes at a flea market I happened across The Beast of Hollow Mountain… cowboys and dinosaurs in Mexico?  This had to be it!

I was wrong.  I was so, so wrong.  This movie has been on my Episodes that Never Were radar since the inception of this blog, and I was delighted that Season Eleven actually used it at the same time as being slightly annoyed that they used it first.  No matter.  It richly deserves everything Jonah and the bots threw at it.

There are these two guys, Jimmy and Felipe, who own a ranch. Jimmy keeps flirting with a woman named Sarita.  She’s supposed to be marrying this other guy called Enrique, who doesn’t like Jimmy and tries to undermine his ranching business so he’ll be forced to return to Texas, but of course Sarita secretly likes the smiling white guy better than the grumpy Latino. There’s also a comic relief drunk, Pancho, who might be funny if it weren’t for the fact that he’s a grieving widower raising a very young child, which kind of undercuts the joke.  We watch these people go about their lives for at least seventeen hours in which nothing much happens, and then suddenly holy shit motherfucking dinosaur out of nowhere.

The weird masked people in that one scene are chinelos dancers, which is interesting in that it gives us an exact location for this story: the little Mexican state of Morelos. This area is rather far south of the US-Mexico border and known more for its sugar cane than its cattle ranching, but it does appear to have mountains, so we’re on firmer geographical ground here than in Beginning of the End.  The masks and robes the dancers wear were originally designed to make fun of Europeans, so it’s kind of fitting that the whole display reduces Jonah, Kinga, and Max to terrified weeping.

If you only look at the first three quarters of the movie, The Beast of Hollow Mountain is an unremarkable, laid-back little western about an upstart rancher competing with the local cattle baron in both economics and love.  There are probably a lot of movies that have this as their only plot, and they do just fine for people who like westerns, I guess.  In this particular movie, however, it’s all just killing time. When I reviewed Avalanche a few weeks back I complained that all the effort getting us to invest in the characters is ultimately pointless because none of those stories will be resolved.  Beast of Hollow Mountain is slightly better, in that it does resolve the problems it has set up for the characters, but it does so via tyrannosaurus [r]ex machina.

The movie does make some attempt to hint at the existence of the dinosaur, but it’s pathetically ineffective.  There are superstitions that the mountain is haunted, and cattle are disappearing – but we see that Enrique is encouraging the rumors and possibly stealing the cows as he tries to force Jimmy to leave town.  Occam’s razor tells us that a jealous rival is a much more likely explanation than a dinosaur.  Actual evidence of the monster, such as footprints, cow bones in places cows could not possibly go, or never-believed eyewitness accounts from the local drunks, is completely lacking.

It’s pretty obvious that the reason the dinosaur never appears until the last few minutes of the film is because animation is expensive and that’s all they could afford.  That’s fine, but a lack of budget shouldn’t have gotten in the way of the foreshadowing!  You can make a respectable dinosaur footprint with a shovel and an eye for artistic detail.  Have a couple of prop guys drape a fake cow skeleton over a tree branch, and presto, instant mystery!  And if you need unlikely eyewitness accounts, you’ve already got a town drunk who could be laughed at for it, in the form of Pancho!   You could even do that stupid joke, as seen in god only knows how many other movies, where seeing the dinosaur makes him throw a bottle away and swear to never touch another drop!

It seems so obvious that a movie called The Beast of Hollow Mountain would want to include some clues to the nature of the titular beast before we actually see it, I can’t imagine why they didn’t.  Maybe they figured they were building suspense?  If so, all they actually accomplish is, as Jonah and the bots repeatedly note, making us doubt that there will be any beast in this movie at all.  By the time we get to its appearance, it seems completely wrong that there would suddenly be a dinosaur in what has so far been a story with no fantastical elements.

The other problem with only pulling the dinosaur out at the end of the movie is that, as I mentioned above, it’s a deus ex machina, an easy solution to the characters’ problems that doesn’t feel like part of the same world.  After we’ve watched the rivalry between Jimmy and Enrique for an hour, the satisfying way to end this story would be to have them resolve their differences, perhaps out of mutual love of Sarita and a desire to make her happy. You could even include the dinosaur in this, by having Enrique forgive Jimmy out of gratitude for saving his life. Instead, the dinosaur kills Enrique, leaving Jimmy free to do whatever he likes without having to address his own problems!  It’s as lazy as having him wake up at the end and discover that Enrique was only a bad dream.

When you refuse to foreshadow, you also leave the audience wondering why there is apparently one dinosaur wandering around in Mexico somewhere.  You can’t just pull one dinosaur out of the movie’s ass and not have some kind of explanation!  Eegah! had one caveman in the deserts outside Palm Springs but offered the backstory that he was the last of a clan whose lives had been greatly lengthened by the sulfur springs.  Other movies give us dinosaurs that come out of lost valleys or the centre of the earth or something.  Is that what ‘Hollow Mountain’ is supposed to be?  A portal to a lost land?  If so, I think that deserved at least a few seconds of screen time!

Outside of its lazy storytelling, I guess The Beast of Hollow Mountain really isn’t badly-made. The costumes, including those on the extras, are gorgeous, and between those and the chinelos dancers I suspect the film-makers just went to a town in Morelos and said, “who wants to be in a movie?”  The characters are all pretty one-note but the actors do their best. Mario Navarro as Panchito isn’t nearly as annoying as he was in The Black Scorpion, and Patricia Medina as Sarita does manage to seem like she’s struggling between her commitment to Enrique and her crush on Jimmy.  The worst performance in the movie is probably given by Jimmy himself, played by Guy Madison.  He does ‘smiling mellow cowpoke’ in every single scene, including those that really would have benefitted from some gravitas.

The dinosaur itself is… eh, it’s not that bad.  I feel like I’ve probably waited longer for worse dinosaurs (Lost Continent comes to mind).  I do like stop motion in general and I respect the effort that goes into creating it.  The problem in The Beast of Hollow Mountain isn’t so much the animation itself as what they chose to animate – why the emphasis on the dinosaur’s flailing tongue?  They also failed entirely to make it look as if the dinosaur is occupying the same space as the humans.  Either the puppet or the actors is always horribly out of focus, which might be an attempt to suggest depth.  If so, it doesn’t work.

Then for the closeups, they have dinosaur puppet arms and feet. These are simply terrible.  They don’t match the stop-motion creature in anatomy, movement, or implied size.

It’s pretty obvious what went wrong with this movie.  Somebody came up with a really cool idea for a popcorn flick – cowboys and dinosaurs, you guys!  Everybody else loved it, but as they tried to bring it to fruition, they realized it was also a really expensive idea, and tried to lower the cost by increasing the cowboy-to-dinosaur ratio.  By the time they got to something they could afford, there were only five minutes of dinosaur left.  As I observed in my review of Future War, sometimes movie-makers really need to just step back and say, “no, guys, this is just not gonna work.”

In this case, the ‘somebody’ with the great idea was stop motion pioneer Willis O’Brien, who wrote a script he called The Valley of Mists.  I’ve never read it but I know for a fact that The Beast of Hollow Mountain didn’t come anywhere near doing it justice – because thirteen years later, O’Brien’s protégé Ray Harryhausen did the animation for the remake, The Valley of Gwangi. You guessed it, that's the fucking awesome cowboys-and-dinosaurs movie I remembered from my youth!  If you were disappointed by The Beast of Hollow Mountain, I highly recommend giving The Valley of Gwangi a look.  It’s got action, adventure, romance, special effects so groundbreaking that the Jurassic Park franchise has actually paid homage to them more than once, and is the guaranteed cure for all your Beast-of-Hollow-Mountain-related blues!

[dw-writes]

Ghost Protag 3

Hi everyone!! Ahaha, I’m working on things, I promise. For now, enjoy this chapter.

First Part/Second Part

Warning: this story deals heavily with the topics of depression and suicide. Please, if this makes you uncomfortable, avoid reading. Thank you.

Okay so, a ghost, a vampire, and a….Paloma walk into a bar. Although, it’s not a bar, it’s a café and…I don’t know what Paloma is. I squinted at her and asked as we sat down in a booth in the corner.

“Why?” she shot back.

“I need to know for personal reasons,” I answered. Not because of some inner joke in my brain.

Paloma stared at Pancho. “Where did you find her?” she asked. Pancho just lifted his hands. Now there was a prime…supe answer. Paloma leaned into the table. “I’m a shape shifter,” she said ever so softly.

I, too, leaned into the table. “What’s a shape shifter?” I asked.

“You live in the twenty-first century and you’re asking me what a shape shifter is?” she snapped.

I guess that was the punch line? I sat back and shrugged. “Okay, that was dumb of me,” I admitted. “What kind of shape shifter?” I asked.

“I’m a bird.” Those were the three sharpest words I had ever heard in my life.

Pancho I’ve-Only-Known-This-Girl-For-Twenty-Four-Hours Zapata said, “Don’t you say it.”

“Are you a pretty bird?” I asked.

She preened like only a bird in human form could. “I am the prettiest fucking bird in the tristate area,” she answered. I never knew birds could have Big Dick Energy until today. No, I take that back. Swans. You don’t fuck with swans. Swans are equivalent to BDE. What if she turned into a swan? Anyway, Paloma drummed her manicured nails on the table. “But that’s besides the point,” she said. Her voice dropped, “We stick together and you need help. So we help.”

A ghost, a vampire, and a bird walk into a café together and leave as a superhero trio.

A girl in a navy blue apron walked over to the table with a notebook and pen. “What can I get for y’all?” she asked. She had the thickest Southern accent I had ever heard. Paloma ordered. Pancho ordered. The girl looked at me. “And you?” she asked.

I managed to say hot chocolate. She nodded and left. I must have looked shocked because Paloma said that the place was filled with supes. When I looked around, all I saw were people. This was Nuts, with a capital N. My mind whirled. I pressed my palms into my eyes. At least, this time, Ghost Time didn’t take away the night. I heard the clink of glasses on a table and looked up. The waitress was just leaving.

Paloma picked up a spoon and poured honey into her cup. I couldn’t remember what she’d ordered. Pancho took a long swig of his mug and set it down. I glanced over. There was a red ring around the top. I didn’t ask.

“I didn’t get a chance to ask last night, but what happened?” he asked me. I stared at the powdered chocolate across the top of my drink and said nothing. “Do you remember?” he asked, voice softer.

I took a deep breath that seemed to stretch my chest out. “I remember books,” I said. My voice was shaky. I thought hard. “I remember…glasses. Sitting in my apartment.” My fingers shook as I picked up the round blue cup and took a sip of my drink. It was so warm. “And then I was standing at the end of my coffin.”

“We have to ask,” Paloma’s voice hesitated on the word, “Did you…”

I stared. “Did I kill myself?” I offered. I laughed a little. It was delirious. “No. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve thought about it plenty of times. Like ‘well, it would just be easier to stop instead of doing all this hard work’ or ‘would anyone actually care if you disappeared?’ or, my favorite, ‘you’re not actually sick you’re just lazy’.” I rolled my eyes. I thought I would cry again. “But I realized it was me being sick and that I needed help and so I got help and I got meds and…” My chin shook. “I thought I was okay.”

Pancho’s hand rubbed across my shoulders. I covered my eyes with one hand while Paloma took the other between hers. I felt my eyes water. Pancho kissed my hair. “When I was younger, still human, anyway, my mother – que en paz decanse – told me I was going to burn in Hell.” His hand carded through the knots in my hair and pulled them free. “Specifically, she said sodomites deserve to burn and if I decided to be one, than I should burn.”

I fucking knew it. Ping. Ping. Mother. Fucker. I almost laughed. It came all choked and sad and stuff instead.

Pancho sighed wistfully and leaned back into the booth bench. “I mean, maybe she was right, in some sense. Eternity is Hell. I’m just not burning.” I heard a thud and felt him wince. Paloma must have kicked him. “What?” he whined. His hand lifted away from my head. “The pendejo she found me sucking off is the one that turned me, anyway. At least it was fun.” His voice was full of mirth. I sniffed and laughed and wiped my eyes with my sleeve. His kissed my head with a loud and obnoxious sound. “Welcome to the dead club, hun,” he murmured.

“Thanks,” I managed to say.

Paloma squeezed my hand. “We can figure this out,” she said. “Palomo here studies criminal justice. I’m finishing my investigative journalism classes. I think we can put all our big brains together and figure out what happened.”

I smiled, well attempted to. “I don’t know enough Spanish to know what you said,” I admitted, “I’m whiter than white rice.”

Paloma patted my hand. “Don’t worry about. Just…don’t go calling him that, okay?” I nodded. “For now, just…relax.” I nodded again.

Pancho’s arm came from around me and he downed what was in his coffee cup. “I’m going to grab more things from your place, Piper,” he said. He stood and the plastic of the booth creaked. “Luckily, you lived in a shit neighborhood.” He dusted off his hands as he spoke. “Any requests.”

I gave him a list: cat toys, the stuffed marshmallow on my bed, more of my own clothes, and the electronics in my apartment. Those were the important things. He left and the chatter of the café filled the silence between me and Paloma. I asked her where we were.

“Romantic Wicca,” she said. She pushed my cup towards me with one finger. “You should drink more. It’ll help.”

I had never heard of the place. But I drank, as she said, and enjoyed the smooth feeling of milk chocolate rolling down my throat. Again, I wondered if ghosts actually drank and ate and shit, but I wouldn’t think too hard on it. My chest warmed and my stomach warmed and it actually felt like my body was relaxing into the booth.

“It’s a place the community comes to be themselves,” she said. I wondered which community. She pinged my radar, too. “You only find it if you need to, and can only come with someone who has already been.”

“So like a secret society thing,” I asked when I finished my drink. The waitress came and set another down in front of me. Same blue cup. Same chocolate powder. I stared at it as the milk wiggled from the movement. I was almost compelled to drink it. But, the longer I stared, the less I felt I needed to. The waitress returned and scooped the cup away, replacing it with a tall glass of water. I looked up. She was already gone.

“The barista’s are sisters. There’s three of them,” Paloma explained. She stirred her own drink, the tea, which seemed to have been refilled. “There’s a million stories about them. But all you need to know is that, when you come in, they know exactly what you need.” I didn’t think she was talking about the drinks. “You’ve stopped crying,” she pointed out.

I touched my face. I hadn’t noticed. As she sipped her tea, I twisted around to look at the café floor. It was…much larger than it looked like from the outside. What looked like twenty booths spanned just our side of the wall. There were another twenty across the room. And dozens of tables. There were too many things happening at once: a couple sitting in a booth had removed their jackets to reveal iridescent feathered wings; a man sat by the door, stout and wide, and tusks poked over his top lip; a girl with short cropped hair sat at a table and pulled off her hat, showing off stubby horns that had started to curl around her head. There were so many different people in the café.

The waitress came back with our check and I looked up. I almost screamed. She had no face. Her cheeks twitched like she was smiling and she rolled away on navy blue roller skates. Paloma was pulling me off the booth seat and out of the café in a heartbeat. When I looked back at the table, I saw she had left a handful of bright green feathers on top of the check. She pulled me through the door and I realized there was no bar to get the drinks from: the café stretched back until I couldn’t see anything anymore.

We walked for a long while before we were somewhere I recognized. The buildings of downtown were very familiar: I lived down here.

Used to live down here.

I took the lead and turned left at one corner, than right at another. We found Pancho far down the street with bags of stuff. Two were physical bags, the rest were trash bags. I jogged until I was standing near him. “How much did you get?” I asked.

“Anything I thought you might need and then some,” he answered. He motioned to the street with his foot. “Called a cab, too. Figured you were done with walking.”

“Lazy,” Paloma called. I didn’t mind. I peeked into the cab to see who would be okay with someone loading trash bags into their taxi. There was no one there but a bright pink bubble gum bubble blew and popped and was swallowed by nothing.

“Huh.” I don’t know what I expected, honestly. Paloma waved at the invisible driver. “So where are we going?” I asked.

“Back to my place,” Pancho answered. He had finished loading everything into the trunk and shut it with one hand. I squinted at him. When. Did. He. Move.

Paloma climbed into the front seat and rolled down the window. “Lets go, it’s getting late.”

I was a little more aware of the Ghost Time. I kind of figured out what it was. As I sat in the back seat, it was like I completely zoned. Not quite disassociation zone. I was way too familiar with that. No, this was like I was on autopilot and literally everything stopped registering.

Okay, maybe it was Disassociation. I like Ghost Time better. It sounds so much cooler. I only remembered the buildings. I couldn’t tell you which ones we past, just that some didn’t belong there. I rubbed my eyes at one point and turned to look at one through the back window. It glowed.

The cab stopped in front of Pancho’s apartment building and I heard the pop of gum again. “Newbie?” said a high pitched voice. I felt eyes on me.

“Yeah?” I answered to the empty front seat.

“Bummer,” was the reply. There was a drawl to it, very much boho surf bro. Pancho nudged me with his knee and I climbed out. Paloma reached into the pockets of her dress – where did she get a dress with pockets? – and produced what looked like a giant quarter. She leaned into the car and dropped it into the cupholder. I heard the clink of coins. “No change?” asked the voice.

“No change,” both Paloma and Pancho answered.

“Totally awesome,” said the voice around a blowing bubble. The window rolled up and the cab pulled away.

Pancho had unloaded everything. I wordlessly pointed at the cab as it disappeared around a corner. He sucked on his teeth, a rattling ‘tch’ sound in the silence of the neighborhood. “Ferrymen Cab and Limo Service,” he answered. He waved a hand towards the cab and lifted the bags with both hands. “Pain in the ass to call, but the quickest way to get anywhere.”

“They only take Coin,” Paloma said. I must have looked confused because she patted my arm. “We’ll explain. Don’t worry. You’re not in this alone.”

Thank fuck.

They talked to me until sunrise, both of them sitting on my bed as I unpacked everything. They took it slow, though. They explained Romantic Wicca – a café for the wayward to provide necessary boosts to its customers – and Ferrymen Cab and Limo Service – yeah, they were THE ferrymen, and they only took THE coins. It made me really nervous. They explained some creatures we had run into – satyrs, trolls, noppera-bō – I was so confused until they told me that’s who the waitress with no face was. I sat on the floor, petting Anna and Cracker Jacks, staring at my friends.

My gay vampire friend and the bird shapeshifter. And me, the ghost. “I need a notebook,” I said.

Pancho almost choked on his drink as he leaned forward towards a bag. “I packed your laptop. Take notes there.”

“Noted,” I said.

Pancho snorted. Paloma groaned. She patted Pancho’s thigh and stood. “It’s almost morning,” she pointed out, “Which means bed.”

Pancho drained his martini glass and stood. “You should also sleep,” he said as he looked me up and down. I barely registered Paloma leaving the room as she waved. I heard the window open and nothing else. “You haven’t slept since I found you.”

“Thanks, Papa Pancho, I’ll remember to rest my little stray head,” I replied.

He shrugged. “I’m just trying to be nice. I don’t feel like dealing with a cranky ass ghost tomorrow,” he pointed out. He left with a wave and I peaked out of the room. Paloma was gone and Pancho was closing the window she left out of.

He had a point, though. I yawned as I stood and flopped face first onto my bed. I felt Cracker Jacks climb between my legs and Anna Banana crawl under my arm. And then, nothing.

I slept like the dead.

Hah.

[evita-shelby]

Between the Shadow and the Soul

Chapter 11

“You turned cloak so many times in that war, I wonder if your husband knows how cheap your loyalty is.” he says as if he’s caught her, but even if he spent his life trying to find Tommy's weakness, he wouldn’t find it with her.

Eva knew he would follow her there. A park bench while she reads a book about poetry. People used to give her looks, some good some bad, but it was those types of looks that reminded you where the Americans got their racism, like meeting the asshole parent of an asshole child. But that changed when Tommy noticed her, everyone feared him and it was in their best interest that Eva Shelby, nee Smith, was treated as if her skin was as pale as her husband’s.

Irene O'Donnell eyed her with intrigue while Donnal Henry eyed her like she was dog shit on his boot. Campbell looks at her like she was put on this earth to make his life miserable.

Eva hates ineptitude just as much as she hates the idea of sharing her husband.

“I was a spy for the rebels, sir, a much better one than Grace seeing I fooled everyone into thinking that. Do you know how easy it was for me to expose her?” Eva loathes Grace, not only because somehow the insipid little cunt managed to creep in like the snake she is, but also because she was just so fucking awful at her job. Had she been a spy in Mexico she wouldn’t have lasted ten minutes. "Two conversations with her and your god-awful idea to meet in the cemetery where everyone can see you, and by the next day I had told Polly and Thomas what I’d seen.”

“She served her purpose well enough.” He said angry that a foreign witch was the one who helped Thomas Shelby evade justice.

“And then killed when you refused to give up your chastity to the general you served, an admirable thing, you were a girl of twenty all alone.” he says as if the majority of Mexico wasn’t composed of Catholics.

“Did you know I was given a gray filly just like the one my husband bought recently for my services by Pancho Villa?” Eva is not one to brag about her time in Villa’s army ---after its inglorious end who can really--- but Campbell is an exception. Its burns him that a twenty-six-year-old housewife has done more for her country than he has for his. Although an Irishman on the side of his people’s oppressors must have no pride. “You see I sounded so American by the time I finished boarding school, no one could tell I was from Mexico. Except for my coloring, obviously.”

“Shame Grace couldn’t keep her legs closed, not a very good Protestant girl, was she? Should have seen how eager she was to jump in his bed, all of Small Heath knew she was whore by then, flirting with both Arthur and Thomas.” Although who could blame Grace, Tommy was great in bed ---if a little tame. Linda seemed to be really enjoying Arthur’s bed, going by her blushes, even if she has to step into the Sodom and Gomorrah that is the Eden Club.

“This isn’t about Mrs. Macmillian, Mrs. Shelby.” Normally Eva is above calling women sluts and whores for having sex, but it hurts Campbell to have Grace be slandered so.

“You know I’ve seen your death in the cards, let's just say if you thought being shot by a woman was embarrassing, imagine being killed by one.” Eva never plans on letting him get to the point, she could talk the ears off a person if she set her mind to it.

“Are you threatening me, Mrs. Shelby?” he says tensing and Eva simply shrugs.

“No, I don’t need to threaten people, I simply tell them what the Universe has said to me, you see, Major, I am a witch cursed to see the future.” her voice is barely above a whisper, low and sweet like poison made with honey. “Think of me as Cassandra of Troy, cursed with prophecies that will never be believed.”

--

“You can hardly tell you’re pregnant, you know. I was like that with Danny.” Esme says when Eva comes in through the betting shop, it was much faster than using the other door. Daniel Owen Shelby was Esme’s boy, named after Danny Whizz-Bang. He was John’s fifth child, but Esme’s first and only child.

“I hope I can have a pregnancy as good as yours was. I’m scared of dying like my sister or the baby dying, but it's stupid because the universe has shown me this little one will have three younger sisters.” Eva touches her stomach as if to assure herself that she won’t die like Felicidad did.

“If Tommy is anything like John, those girls of yours will be spoiled rotten. He already bought Katie earrings because he didn’t want her to feel left out when he got Daisy some for her birthday.” Esme says with a laugh. If you’d look at her with Katie, Johnny, Daisy and Robbie you’d think she’d birthed them with how much they loved her and she loved them. Even Daisy who was thinking herself grown at ten and would be unbearable in her teenage years.

“I just know he will.” Eva gets the sudden feeling of someone walking up to the betting shop, a woman she’s heard about, but has never met. “I’ll get the door; I think we are about to have an unexpected guest.”

May Carleton was beautiful, in that English heiress type of way. Stunning woman really and ironically both Eva and Tommy’s type. If Eva wasn’t married, she’d definitely try and see if she could get anywhere with her. “I have an appointment with Mr. Thomas Shelby.”

No hello, no may I come in, nothing is even politely asked and she enters in a way Eva can only describe as Hernan Cortes entering Tenochtitlan already planning how he’s going to oust Moctezuma.

“May Carleton,” May extends her hand to Eva, but Eva eyes it with suspicion. Tommy had told her about her flirting with him ---unfortunately he played dumb when she asked about Grace’s letters, so that’s going to end badly--- and the way she came in here like a colonizer feels a little insulting.

“He usually takes appointments at his proper office.” Eva says wondering how to politely kick her out. She can bet Moctezuma had similar thoughts on how to shake off the Spanish.

“This was the address he gave me.” May drops her hand, feeling the sting. Eva was being rude, but why the hell May Carleton think anyone would be nice to her here.

“He gave you this address?” Esme asks standing by Eva in what can only be seen as solidarity.

“He said this was a gambling den. I told him I wanted to see one since I’m always reading about them in the papers.” now it made sense. Bored rich girl, Eva hated those. Always tried to make her their pet project, always stealing someone else’s boyfriend for shits and giggles and always treating the working class like this circus oddity they can pay to see. “Quite the big scandal in the Telegraph lately. Anyway, he said, I could, uhm, take a look.”

Esme looks at May with incredulity and Eva has that try me bitch look she perfected when she was sixteen and Oneida Villareal Diaz tried to make her life a living hell. Probably likes tonic water too.

Eva already hates her and it's not even about May setting her sights on her charming criminal of a husband.

“And now I feel like a bit of an idiot, because I’m early and he’s late and I have no idea how to behave.” she says almost nervously.

“In a Gambling Den?” Esme doesn’t take kindly to being a spectacle for a rich white woman to enjoy.

“I'll go wait in the car.” May has the decency to appear apologetic, not that it would save her. The Lees are famous for their resentment.

“Oh, you don’t have to. He’ll be here in maybe five minutes; he is very punctual. I am Eva Shelby.” this time Eva offers her hand. The Mexican Spanish accent feels more pronounced and Eva isn’t sure if she should have done that on purpose. With Oneida and her posse of rich mean girls, it was the opposite. The more Irish she sounded the better. Remind them, she was the foreign European one. Didn’t help she was darker than them, which was why they always thought her beneath them. All that culminated with Eva ‘accidentally’ pushing Oneida down a few steps so she’d hurt her ankle and Eva would be playing both Odette and Odile in their school’s rendition of Tchaikovsky's Swan Lake. She hates Swan Lake, but boy does she love revenge.

“So, what brings you here, Miss Carleton?" Eva asks in that sweet polite manner of hers that she uses on strangers.

“I am going to train his racehorse, for Epsom.” she says still taking everything in, reminding Eva about how Oneida looked at the offices by the port and how surprised she was to see how well off the Smith Rileys lived. After all they did benefit from the Porfiriato up until the Americans destroyed their ships.

“You know horses?” Esme asks as if she didn’t believe posh Miss Carelton was a horse trainer.

“Yes, you?” May asks and now Eva wonders if she judged May wrong.

“Born riding. Slept in a manger when I was a baby.” Esme answers, a softness about her face when she recalls her childhood.

John comes in, complaining about May’s car. And Tommy comes in just as John assumes Eva is feeling threatened by the beautiful heiress.

“Sorry I’m late,” he clears his throat and John backs down. “There was a business matter.” he doesn’t kiss Eva’s cheek like he always does and that just annoys her more. He orders for Esme and John to keep the place locked for a while and Eva wonders if she is supposed to cockblock them to prevent May Carleton from getting the idea Tommy is unattached, or leave in a huff before she does something immature like trip her. She trusts her husband, but she doesn’t trust Carelton to keep Carelton to keep her lily-white hands off her man.

---

“You hate her, don’t you?” he asks knowing the answer to his question. Lucky for Eva they have the house for themselves since Finn likes spending the night at Polly’s because he misses her and Arthur has gotten a place in London above the Eden Club.

“I don’t know her enough to hate her, but the impression she has given me leaves her in the same spot as the girls who made my life hell in boarding school. Walked into the betting shop like a fucking colonizer.” Eva groaned and he laughs at her choice of words. She may be more Irish than Nahua, but she was raised to know colonialism is evil and how it looks. Every foreign country owned and enslaved mexicans with their factories in Mexico these days. “Did she drink Tonic Water? The bitchy rich girls always drank that.”

“You drink it too, love.” he points out and once again Eva finds herself forgetting she’s a little angry at him. Here acting like everything is fine while cleaning up after dinner. Him being playful with her and reminding her how horny pregnancy has made her.

“Don’t do that.” she says reminding herself it's now or never.

“Do what, Evie?” he asks bracing himself for the inevitable fight they are hurdling to.

“That thing you do where you make me forget that I am actually pretty fucking mad at you, Tommy.” she says angrily. “I know about those letters Grace has written to you and to top it all off, you didn’t even bother correcting Carleton when she assumed you were unmarried today.”

If Tommy thought her pretty when she was mad, she’d look fucking gorgeous tonight.

---

Notes:

First things first, only Katie, who I assume is the younger daughter since she is still peeing the bed in season 1, is named. I gave them names here. In order they are: Daisy, Robert (robbie), John Jr (Johnny) and Katie. the baby Esme had between seasons is named Daniel Owen after Danny Whizz Bang who gets killed by Billy Kimber in season 1.

May Carleton in her first appearance gave me white rich girl vibes, didn't dislike her as much as i dislike Grace ---who I just think sucks as a charcter, spy , but excels as a ghost--- or Tatiana ---who is just an awful person and kinda annoying.

The Porfiriato is the title given to the thirty-one years (seven presidential terms)President Porfirio Diaz was in power in Mexico. guy started out sort of good, but became a tyrant who favored foreign investments, industrailism without care about people's rights and literally killed his oppnents. his regime lead to the Second Revolution that kinda ended up almost exactly the same. The US originally backed the rebels until the Rebels started raiding them because they were still pissed about the US orchestrating the Mexican-American War to steal half of what is now the continetnial US. the 2nd revolution would make a fantasitic m-rated period drama, has a lot of violence, back stabbing, politics and at one point 41 queer men were exsposed at a dance (there's a movie called El Baile de los 41/the Dance of the 41) one of them being Diaz's son-in-law.

[ecogoth1]

There is motel 6 where I worked once In early 90s And stood up For Mexican Maids and lost my job So Help me now I call you all Help Me get Justice And supplies and a ride I need the money They all stole from Us Up There Hell If you lend me your horse I'll bring It back like Pancho Via I returned And he came through here So Did Billy the kid and the younger Brothers So did My Eurp Family Let's ride Wyatt Your great great grand nephew Needs You and that Marshal Way (at Temecula, California) https://www.instagram.com/p/B9XxowOHc2y/?igshid=17dwosdzch9gc