#my sincere condolences to all educators | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

disco-elysium-via-polls · 7 months ago

Text

🎵 Bookstore

5. "There is another Entity, more malignant, pulling the strings in Martinaise. Perhaps in my travels I will cross paths with it."

PLAISANCE - "A *third order* presence, yes..." She lets go of the pendant.

EMPATHY [Easy: Success] - A great, dark relief washes over her.

PLAISANCE - "I've heard of these *tri-actors*. In certain occult literature that's too dark to dwell on for too long -- and definitely not in the presence of my daughter." She gestures for you to be silent.

"I understand everything, sir. Thank you for descending into the maelström. I will keep fort up here -- strengthen the wards, do my best. And if you happen upon the Third Entity in your travels…"

Task complete: Investigate the Doomed Commercial Area

+70 XP

Level up!

PLAISANCE - "May the Lord be with you." She performs an x-shaped cross on her chest.

KIM KITSURAGI - "Well, this has been absolutely *educational*. If we happen on the *Third Presence* in our travels we will certainly come back to tell you."

INLAND EMPIRE [Easy: Success] - Yes, the venture continues. In other waters. Darker waters.

KIM KITSURAGI - He turns to you. "Should we get out of here -- before the *vortex* collapses?"

SHIVERS [Challenging: Success] - The shop around you feels ancient suddenly, damp and saturated by the coastal air. The books are rotting, a great cold lives here. And there, too -- 1200 metres away, on the urban coast. The dark shape of a church is reflected on the water, calling.

3. "Farewell for now, book peddler!" [Leave.]

Let's take care of a few *small* tasks while we're still in Martinaise. We're not going to do anything that will take a significant amount of time, like painting the wall. Mostly I want to reattempt some checks so we have things to spend levels on.

We're going to start by checking in with Gaston and René.

Or... just Gaston?

GASTON MARTIN - "Officer..." The jolliness is gone from Gaston's face. "Care to play a game with a lonely old man?"

"Actually never mind... Wouldn't be the same..."

"Hey, Gaston, I found you a new *boule*." (Hold out the ball.)

"Where is René?"

"I wanted to ask you about the Union again."

[Rhetoric - Legendary 14] Convince Gaston to relinquish his sandwich.

"Bye for now." [Leave.]

GASTON MARTIN - "The prick is gone," he replies, trying to smile. "I... I can barely believe it, but he's really gone."

COMPOSURE [Medium: Success] - He is trying to retain his jolly façade, but the underlying sadness casts a deep shadow over his wrinkled face.

"Gone? Gone where?"

"Do you know what happened to his medals?"

"May René rest in peace." (Conclude.)

GASTON MARTIN - Gaston sighs and mumbles, more to himself than you: "Hell, most likely. He was an absolute cunt..."

🎵 Live With Me

"How did he die exactly?"

"Was he really that bad?"

"Do you know what happened to his medals?"

"I offer my sincere condolences." (Conclude.)

"Old people die, you better get ready too." (Conclude.)

GASTON MARTIN - "His angry little heart finally gave out." He sighs. "The dockworkers found him in the guard booth this morning. Wasn't even supposed to be working for another week, but he just had to prove how tough he is..."

REACTION SPEED [Medium: Success] - Wait... did he push himself to prove he can pull his weight and doesn't need hand-outs?

GASTON MARTIN - "Guess he was about to head home, 'cause when the dockworkers found him he was wearing civilian clothes and not the cockatoo uniform I saw him in all the time."

"Sometimes I thought he was wearing it just to piss me off." Gaston smiles a sad smile. "Now the joke's on him, 'cause he's gonna be buried without it."

REACTION SPEED [Medium: Success] - That means the uniform could still be in the guard booth -- something to keep in mind if you *really* plan to give yourself to Revachol.

"Do you think our conversation about his job pushed him to go out there?"

"The irony isn't lost on me, but I wanted to ask about something else."

GASTON MARTIN - "No," he replies quickly. "René was the most stubborn man in Revachol. Nothing you or I could say would ever *push* him to do anything. The man was completely immovable."

EMPATHY [Easy: Success] - He has doubts, but right now he just wants to move on and not think about it.

2. "Was he really that bad?"

GASTON MARTIN - "I repeat -- an *absolute* cunt." He turns to look at the crater. "Even his old army buddies didn't want him around. He was like an old viper."

"The only people who could stand to be around him were Jeannie and me…" He pauses. "She saw something in him when we were just kids, and…"

His voice trembles. "...a-and she never lost sight of it. And I thought if the most beautiful being in the world can love him, then there must be something worth holding on to..."

3. "Did you love him?"

GASTON MARTIN - "We've hated each other our entire lives. So much in fact that..." He falls silent and looks at you, eyes filling up with tears.

"Yes. I... I loved that angry prick. He didn't deserve it, but I did." He wipes his eyes with a sleeve. "You know what his last words to me were?"

"Something mean?"

"That he's sorry?"

"Some right-wing royalist slogan?"

"Something forgettable, like 'See you tomorrow' probably?"

"Tell me."

GASTON MARTIN - "'In Guillaume's time you'd have been shot without a trial'. That's what he said to me." The old man gathers himself and wipes his eyes again. "He lived a cunt and he died a cunt. Let's leave it at that."

4. "Do you know what happened to his medals?"

GASTON MARTIN - He looks at you for a moment and then speaks quietly. "I took them for myself. Took them to remember that old cunt. Nobody knew him better than I did, and I want to remember that old cunt by something."

RHETORIC [Medium: Success] - Strange how *old cunt* sounds almost gentle when he says it now.

We're not going to be able to convince René we're a war hero now.

5. "Here, something to remember your friend by…" (Give him the photograph of René and the girl.)

Item lost: Photo of a Happy Couple

GASTON MARTIN - "Let me see..." Gaston takes the photo, hands trembling. "This was 60 years ago! We all went to that parade. Young René looks so happy and Jeannie..." Eyes blurry with tears, he has to stop.

"I'm sorry, officer, I just..." He dries his eyes. "Thank you, *thank you* for this little memorabilia. It really means the world to me."

+5 XP

KIM KITSURAGI - "That was nice," the lieutenant smiles. "A small thing for us, but invaluable to him. He probably didn't even know René had the photo."

+1 Reputation

6. "Old people die, you better get ready too." (Conclude.)

GASTON MARTIN - "Yes..." A strange expression runs across his wrinkled face, then vanishes without trace.

EMPATHY [Easy: Success] - He finds comfort in the thought.

GASTON MARTIN - "We all got to go some time, officer. Everyone I love is already there. Probably waiting for me." He smiles faintly. "I'm not afraid to die. It's been a good run and I really miss my friends..."

KIM KITSURAGI - "We are both very sorry for your loss," the lieutenant bows his head. "Death of a friend is a terrible thing."

GASTON MARTIN - "It is what it is... part of life," he mumbles, only half-listening to you. "But to know someone for 79 years, then one day they're just *gone*..."

"I just don't know anymore... about anything really." He slowly shakes his head, then remembers your presence. "But you... you must need something?"

"Too bad René's gone, I was hoping to ask him about May bells..." (Hold out the flower.)

GASTON MARTIN - The old man stares at the flower, then sighs and says: "René wasn't really what you'd call a botanist, officer. And believe me, he didn't like Insulindian Lilies."

"Wait, Insulindian Lillies?"

"Why didn't he like them?"

GASTON MARTIN - "Mhmh," he replies with a slight nod. "That's their old name, dating back to the time of kings and crests and all that other stuff he loved so much."

"Why didn't he like them?"

GASTON MARTIN - "There were many reasons, but mostly it was the communards. They called them 'The Bells of Revolution'." A sad smile passes his face.

"I guess in the end the Insulindian Lillies were just another piece of the Old Insulinde, the royalists had to surrender to the Mazovian insurgents. It doesn't really matter anymore."

INLAND EMPIRE [Medium: Success] - But you feel the dried flower in your hand somehow still *does* matter. Although not to this sad old man.

"Hey, Gaston, I found you a new *boule*." (Hold out the ball.)

GASTON MARTIN - Gaston glumly stares at the shot put ball. Several seconds pass. Then he speaks: "It's too late now, officer... you got back too late. René is gone."

"The prick survived all the bullets, swords and explosions just to die of a heart attack..." He sighs deeply. "Ironic, isn't it -- even his own bitter little heart couldn't stand him."

"Keep it, it's not even a real *boule*." He waves you away. "Besides, it doesn't really matter now. I've never seen anyone else play pétanque in Martinaise."

Task complete: Replace lost boule

+10 XP

INLAND EMPIRE [Easy: Success] - He will never play pétanque again.

3. "Bye for now." [Leave.]

Now that we know this, we also lose the option to try and take Gaston's sandwich. It just wouldn't be right.

The next check we need to retry is...

KNICK-KNACKS STAND - You see rows of toy soldiers guarding the rest of the trinkets displayed on the table: some on horseback, others in rags, others yet in bright blue uniforms. All are stern and unyielding in their duty.

4. [Interfacing - Medium 10] Dig up a truly *cool* figurine in the box under the table.

INTERFACING [Medium: Success] - Why, what's this? A headless man riding a horse? A headless man wearing futuristic track suit trousers that say FALN!

"What is this?" (Show it to the shopkeep.)

BIRD'S NEST ROY - "Oh, that's the Headless FALN Rider."

"*Who*?"

"Of course." (Nod knowingly.)

BIRD'S NEST ROY - "There's been a lot of *interest* in that particular figurine. I had to hide it so it wouldn't fall into the wrong hands."

RHETORIC [Easy: Success] - He doesn't elaborate on these 'wrong hands' -- it's unlikely that he ever will.

KIM KITSURAGI - The lieutenant studies the tiny figurine in your hand. "I've heard about it," he says with amusement, "I've heard the Headless FALN Rider rides a headless bull."

BIRD'S NEST ROY - "Yes, there are several competing versions of the story, but I believe this figurine is a more canonical representation."

(Look at Kim, then back at Roy.) "Sorry, what are we talking about again?"

BIRD'S NEST ROY - "The Headless FALN Rider. It's an urban legend -- about a man who rides the streets of Revachol sporting a FALN tracksuit. As you can see, he's missing his head." He points at the decapitated figurine.

"Fifty cents. Bargain-priced! I'll throw in the tiny cap too -- I think he's looking for it, or something. That part of the story has many interpretations."

LOGIC [Medium: Success] - He lost his cap when he lost his head. Perhaps he's looking for the *head*?

4. Purchase the Headless FALN Rider and his cap.

BIRD'S NEST ROY - "Did I mention that this figurine is supposed to be lucky? Always carry it with you." He grins.

SUGGESTION [Easy: Success] - That was a very smooth salesman's grin that almost comes off as earnest. You should learn from him.

4. Step away from the table. [Leave.]

FIGURINE SET "HEADLESS FALN RIDER"

The plastic Headless FALN Rider sits atop his equally plastic bull, his posture indicating either desperation or pride. Comes as a set with the infamous FALN cap for which he lost his head. (The head is not included.)

🎵 Martinaise, Terminal B

NIGHTWATCHMAN'S BOOTH - This is the nightwatchman's booth. The name on the door reads *René Arnoux*. René left his uniform neatly folded on the table.

AUTHORITY [Easy: Success] - Generally speaking, it would be *dishonourable* to take it. But then... it looks like a military uniform! And wearing that is very honourable. So, a conflict of honour. It's up to you.

Take the uniform.

[Leave.]

Item gained: Royal Carabineer Jacket

Item gained: Royal Carabineer Pants

Let's just not let Gaston know we have these.

KIM KITSURAGI - "I suppose René is not going to be needing it anymore." He studies the uniform. "It's a bit too colourful for my taste, though."

"It's, uhm, needed for work and all that."

"This is gonna take my shit to the next level."

"I'm done here."

+1 Superstar Cop

KIM KITSURAGI - "Fantastic. Try not to wear it with other similarly colourful clothes, okay?"

ROYAL CARABINEER JACKET

+1 to Revacholian Nationhood: Proud nationalist

The beautifully adorned jacket of the Royal Carabineers has three stars on its shoulders and the word Capitaine written on the chest. Neatly patched here-and-there, it's impossible not to feel love for the Fatherland when you wear it.

Maybe we shouldn't have taken these at all, actually.

ROYAL CARABINEER PANTS

+1 Reaction Speed: Vigilance!

These pants are made from synthetic lightweight fiber and designed to let the carabineer's legs and groin breathe. Red stripes are there to inspire courage, while the golden stripe symbolizes the patriotic flame in the wearer's heart.

CARGO CONTAINER DOOR - You're back before the cargo container. Its draw has not lessened since you were last here. If anything, it seems to have grown slightly.

3. [Rhetoric - Impossible 18] Persuade the door to open.

+1 Erratic, yet thorough. +1 Been in the world for two days. +1 Been in the world for many days. +1 Precarious world. +1 One more door. +1 Icosahedral Dice Set "Sirens"

RHETORIC [Impossible: Failure] - Aaaaand as it's always been -- it's impossible to open a container with rhetoric. Maybe you're losing your mind?

*Still* not enough, despite having almost every bonus to this check it's possible for us to get. The only way for us to open this door is going to be to put more points into Rehtoric.

Ok, that's all the things I wanted to take care of. Let's move on.

#disco elysium #kim kitsuragi #harrier du bois #plaisance #gaston martin #rene arnoux #bird's nest roy

8 notes · View notes

rmu-vincent · 9 months ago

Note

can you finish school faster we are running out of employees. They all keep dying mysteriously. Xoxo myerchaaaann -@myerschna

Dear Ms Myerchan,

I will do my best to make this response as clear and concise as I can to not take up too much of your time, as I understand how busy you are.

Please accept my sincere condolences on the deaths of your employees. I understand that working on an assembly line is hard and dangerous, as is the work of people who develop new technologies and advance the old ones. If it were for me to decide, I would have gladly graduated faster, but unfortunately, the RMU's council has advised against it.

However, I am a lawyer, and I doubt that I have enough knowledge and skills to replace those people. I do not know how prosthetics are built, nor would I be able to imagine new designs without proper education. In case you are not looking for any employees but for lawyers specifically, then, and I mean it in the most polite way possible, I would like to inquire what the mysterious circumstances of their deaths were.

Best regards,

Vincent Edgeworth

#vtsom #vincent the secret of myers #vincent edgeworth #myer chan #rp #ask blog #vtsom rp

9 notes · View notes

common-man · 25 days ago

Text

Small Story For Bonding No Boundary.

Small Story 55 For Bonding No Boundary Davidson landed at Chennai airport from London, ready for a six-month assignment with his Indian office. As a film scriptwriter known for his acclaimed documentary work, he was excited about the new adventure. Ramesh, a local photographer for the company, was there to greet him. “Welcome to India, Davidson! How was your journey?” Ramesh asked as they headed to the hotel. “Fine, thanks! And how's your family?” Davidson inquired. Ramesh hesitated. “My family… it’s just me, my mom, and my sister now. My dad passed away a few weeks back.” Davidson frowned, offering his condolences. “I’m sorry to hear that.” He quickly changed the subject. “Still a bachelor?” “Yes,” Ramesh replied. After dropping Davidson at his hotel, Ramesh promised to pick him up the next morning for his first day at the office. Davidson found the office welcoming; everyone was friendly and eager to help. A few days later, Ramesh invited him over for tea. On Sunday at 4:30, Davidson arrived at Ramesh’s home, where he met Ramesh’s mother, Radhika, and sister, Nanditha. “What do you do, Nanditha?” Davidson asked after tea and sweets. “I work as a narrator at a radio broadcasting firm,” she replied. “Nice!” he said, genuinely interested. As the weeks passed, Davidson explored Chennai and enjoyed its vibrant culture. One evening, while dining at an Indian restaurant, he spotted Nanditha with her friend Vasanthi, a feature editor for a leading online magazine. They chatted over their meal before parting ways. On his last day, Davidson decided to surprise Ramesh and his family. “I really appreciate you all,” he said. “You’re cultured and educated. I need a good narrator for my division, and I see those qualities in Nanditha. Would it be alright if she came to the UK with me? She can stay with my family—my wife, daughter Sophia, and I would love to have her.” Radhika was taken aback but impressed by Davidson’s sincerity, while Ramesh saw him as a fatherly figure. At fifty-five, Davidson’s straightforwardness and trustworthy nature made him a compelling choice. Nanditha was thrilled at the prospect of an overseas assignment. After discussing it with her family, they agreed happily. In the end, Davidson not only completed his deputation successfully but also found a daughterly figure for his division, forging connections that transcended distance and culture. K.Ragavan 23-10-24

0 notes

832s1t-taiyoo · 3 months ago

Text

Good evening, friends Sami, Mahmoud, and Samira.

Donation link for zainsami. Please address this one urgently. A tent is by no means livable conditions for any family, let alone one with young children. Only €65 have been raised so far, out of €35,000.

Donation link for mahmodsy. This one too, deserves urgent attention, as care for the sick takes priority. Please, if you can. The family is currently at $584 out of $25,000.

Donation link for samiraayman. This campaign is farther along, but not by much. $1,310 out of $20,000. Serious health vulnerabilities are on the table that can't afford to wait.

I cannot directly donate at the moment due to extenuating circumstances with my bank, and I sincerely apologise for that. Hopefully by posting these, eventually the hands needed in order to make a real difference will have reached you.

My condolences for your situations. Godspeed to you all and may you reach your goals of good health, cure, safety, personal wellness, new education, and peace ASAP.

#palestine #free palestine #gaza #donations #fundraiser #gfm #zainsami #mahmodsy #samiraayman #signal boost

1 note · View note

thxnews · 11 months ago

Text

Legacy of Amir Nawaf Shapes Kuwait's Future

Early Life and Educational Foundations Born in 1937, Sheikh Nawaf Al-Ahmed Al-Jaber Al-Sabah grew up in Kuwait, receiving his education in various local schools. His early years laid the foundation for a life dedicated to public service. A Career in Public Service Pivotal Roles and Contributions Sheikh Nawaf held key positions in Kuwait's government, significantly influencing the country's direction. His roles included Governor of Hawalli, Minister of Interior, Minister of Defense, Crown Prince, and finally, Deputy Prime Minister. Each position allowed him to shape Kuwait's internal security, defense, and economic policies. Major Achievements Strengthening Kuwait's Security and Economy A pivotal figure in establishing the Kuwait National Guard, Sheikh Nawaf also played a critical role in guiding Kuwait through the Gulf War and its aftermath. His efforts were crucial in Kuwait's economic and social progress. Legacy and Influence A Lifetime of Service Remembered as a dedicated servant of Kuwait, Sheikh Nawaf's six-decade-long career marked him as a key figure in the nation's modern history. His contributions to security and stability are particularly notable.

The Current State of Kuwait

Transition and Stability Following Sheikh Nawaf's passing, Crown Prince Mishal Al-Ahmad Al-Jaber Al-Sabah has ascended as the new Emir. Kuwait observes a period of mourning, with the government expected to maintain stability and continue domestic and international affairs.

US Secretary of State Statement

I was saddened to learn of the death of Amir Sheikh Nawaf Al-Ahmed Al-Jaber Al-Sabah.�� On behalf of the United States, I extend my sincere condolences to the late Amir’s family and all Kuwaitis. I had the opportunity to know His Highness personally and appreciated his dedication to the welfare of the Kuwaiti people and the many ways he nurtured the Kuwaiti-American partnership. His perseverance and resolve helped shape Kuwait into the prosperous and modern state it is today, and his public service over his lifetime contributed to a lasting and positive change in Kuwait and the entire Middle East region. His Highness Amir Nawaf was a deeply respected leader and a friend to all nations.  We honor his legacy and remain committed to our strong partnership and friendship with Kuwait. Sources: THX News & US Department of State. Read the full article

#AmirSheikhNawaf'sLegacy #CrownPrinceMishal'sAscension #GulfWarInfluence #KuwaitNationalGuardFormation #Kuwait'sInternalSecurity #Kuwait'sModernDevelopment #Kuwait'sPoliticalStability #KuwaitiEconomicProgress #Kuwaiti-AmericanPartnership #PeriodofMourninginKuwait

0 notes

faegirly · 4 years ago

Text

A Letter from Byakuya Togami

alongside the oneshots, i also sometimes write small letters from characters to the reader. a little different but the encouragement is all the same. there are references to an unsupportive family and home life so, please bear that in mind. i hope those who need some encouragement for this find it so 💫

Good day.

Let it be known that I am not one for communicating with anyone unless completely necessary, and normally I would reserve my sensibilities for those who are truly worth my time... but I would be a liar if I didn't admit that you have crossed my mind recently.

Briefly, mind you. Don't start thinking this is a common occurance.

Most of all, I am writing to you to clear my head. I don't waste my time with unnecessary emotions, but my day would become significantly inefficient if I didn't deal with the source of my turmoil, which just happens to be you.

From a source I don't need to name, I've learned that you are dealing with a level of stress that is making it difficult for you to live a fulfilling life as you wish to. While I don't give my condolences to many, I... I will offer them to you. No one deserves to be stopped from living the life they want and deserve just because another person doesn't want to face the fact that they have been living a lie or that they aren't as educated and aware of the world as they thought.

Unfortunately, I'm unable to come to you and sort this nonsense out myself, show those infidels just who you're associated with, but since I cannot at present, I will give you some small advice using this medium of a letter. This doesn't happen often, so make sure you pay attention.

As hard as it may seem to face such... idiots, frankly, on a daily basis and put up with their incompetence, you must always remember your worth. You are more than they can ever say you are, and that will never change.

Their rejection of you only reflects their own stupidity, not yours, and while it may feel easier said than done, you must always remember that you are worth happiness and freedom to live by your own terms. Everyone deserves to live in a safe and stable environment with people who support them no matter what, but beyond that, you know yourself better than they ever will, meaning that by default their thoughts on what they think you should be or who they think you are are irrelevant, even more so than before.

I don't want to get ahead of myself so I will leave it here for now. But... I suppose if you ever need my advice again, don't hesitate to reach out. I know how it feels to experience a... soul crushing despair, though I can't imagine what it's like to live in a place where that's only magnified instead of mitigated. Either way, it would be a foolish display of malevolence to wish for anyone else to go through such anguish, and cold as I am, I'm not a sadist.

Remember, I don't just extend this kind of treatment to just anyone nor often. Only... those I deem deserve it. And you happen to be one of those few. It would be a shame for my assistant to be plagued with such despair...

Anyway, I will take my leave now.

Keep hope. You are the master of your own future. No one else can decide who you are. That is a question you must and can only answer for yourself. A foolish young man once told me that when I thought my life was over so I hope, with this brief letter, that it brings you some comfort.

I await your response should you need to write one, and if not, I wish you good luck. But for now, I have work to do.

Sincerely,

Byakuya Togami.

#danganronpa #sdr1 #danganronpa oneshot #danganronpa byakuya togami #dr byakuya #byakuya togami #dr #byakuya x reader #danganronpa x reader #danganronpa fluff #comfort oneshot #encouragement #dr fanfiction #faeleas writes #faeleas letters

34 notes · View notes

andyouweremine · 4 years ago

Text

Sue Thomas FBEye quotes that live rent free in my brain:

“I went out for a tuna sandwich, how long was I gone?”

“Give it to me. I don’t have the Male Map Phobia gene.”

“How can someone sound cute?” “Not to worry, not a problem you’ll ever have.”

“We know you had a choice in moving companies, and we’d like to thank you for choosing Aardvark. First in quality, first in service, and—most importantly—first in the yellow pages.”

“Walk softly and carry a big “no comment”.”

“That isn't half-eaten. I ate the other half, which made that half completely eaten. That half isn't eaten at all, making it wholly uneaten.“

“I am Einstein with a gun. Boston born, Harvard educated, S.W.A.T. trained, Myles Leeland the Third. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a country to save.”

“I will send each chicken a letter of condolences with my sincere apologies.”

“Jack and Sue were making out in dragon lady’s office at Callahan and Merced.”

“This is the man who told me he wanted to move the stove out of the kitchen to make room for a pinball machine.“

“I’m on fire, there are sparks everywhere, I’m putting her in the Potomac.”

“At Aardvark we do not tolerate workers with surly attitudes. This will be going on your permanent records.“

“Nothing like a double homicide to bring the family together.“

“Well, I better get home. See how Levi and Lucy are kissing along… getting along.“

“Lets just say you’re in the half that makes the top half possible.”

#sue thomas fbeye #pls reblog and add your own if you have any

18 notes · View notes

tw-koreanhistory · 6 years ago

Link

Kim Bok-dong, a former comfort woman for the Japanese imperial army, has passed away. She was 93 years old.

Kim’s battle with cancer came to an end at 10:41 pm on Jan. 28 at Severance Hospital in Sinchon, in Seoul’s Seodaemun District.

Born in Yangsan, South Gyeongsang Province, Kim was forced to serve as a comfort woman, or sex slave, for the Japanese imperial army at the age of 14. She returned to Korea at the age of 22. Kim was an activist for peace who testified about the suffering of the comfort women both in Korea and in other countries.

In 2015, Kim donated 50 million won (US$44,762) which represented her life savings, to the Butterfly Fund for use in supporting young victims in conflict zones and for training peace activists. The Butterfly Fund used this money to create the Kim Bok-dong scholarship fund.

That same year, Kim’s name appeared on a list of “heroes who fight for freedom” selected by international press organizations, alongside Nelson Mandela, the first black president of South Africa, and Martin Luther King Jr., a leader of the US civil rights movement.

Last year, Kim became the first recipient of the “righteous figure award,” which is chosen by a foundation called Jung (chaired by Kim Jae-hong and Kim Yong-gyun). Jung explained its selection of Kim Bok-dong as follows: “Despite bearing the pain of being a former comfort woman, Kim Bok-dong donated nearly all her assets to educating the next generation and has worked to spread her convictions about peace and unification and a proper understanding of South Korea and Japan’s historical issues.”

Death of another comfort woman victim leaves only 23 remaining survivors

After Korea’s liberation from Japanese colonial rule, Lee barely managed to return home by getting a ride on a smuggling ship. “She was tormented her entire life by the sense of guilt and a victim mentality resulting from her terrible experiences. Whenever I visited her, I felt bad about the pain and loneliness that were evident on her face,” Yoon wrote in her post.

On Monday, Minister of Gender Equality and Family Jin Sun-mee conveyed her condolences on Lee’s passing.

“Since Lee wasn’t in good health when I saw her not long ago, I’d been sincerely hoping that her condition would quickly improve. It’s such a shame that we have to say goodbye to her so soon. I will do my best to frequently visit each of the former comfort women before it’s too late and to ensure that they are comfortable and in good health,” Jin said.

The Korean Council for Justice and Remembrance announced that Lee’s funeral would be held in private, out of the respect for the wishes of Lee and her surviving family.

The deaths of the two women bring the number of surviving comfort women down to 23.

Read more: http://english.hani.co.kr/arti/english_edition/e_national/880399.html

#japan #korea #slavery

3K notes · View notes

battletowered-archived · 4 years ago

Text

||I try to not put politicial happenings or Race issues on this blog because I know it's triggering for a great many people, but I'm well aware that silence is violence, especially when it comes to violence against black people in the US. I would highly encourage you to donate and share the official fundraisers for the memorial of George Floyd started by his sisters Philonise Floyd (located here) and Bridgett Floyd (located here).

It's more important (now more than ever) that we stand up and help to protect our POC friends, family, and communities and put our efforts toward ending the systematic oppression and violence toward Black people and People of Color-- not just in the US but worldwide. Listen. Educate yourself. Protest. Vote. Learn how to accept your own biases and change them. There is no reason that Black People or other people of color should have to face this needless violence.

If you can safely do so, please protest. And remember not to immediately trust the media, police, or government at their word. Words mean very little, especially if they show no improvement through action. In fact they often are more damaging than they are helpful. As someone who lived in Baltimore Maryland during the riots in 2015 and as someone who has participated in peaceful protests, I can tell you first-hand that media sensationalizes the violence and lumps protesters in with the rioters and oppertunists. I can tell you first hand that the police will actively menace protests in some places, and actively antagonize protesters.

My advice is to be safe. Know your rights. Wear face coverings in case of the use of tear gas as well as to help protect you and others from the spread of the virus at this moment. Take water with you-- both to drink and to help flush contaminates out of your eyes. Be sure to know people you can contact in the event of an arrest at a protest.

If you cannot protest, make sure you're voting. Make sure you're still holding your local law enforcement and government offices accountable. Donate to support organizations dedicated to the protection and defense of POC rights and safety who can organize in your stead. Speak up and share resources.

Stay safe. I love you all, and please know I'm here to just talk if you need someone. The Floyd family has my deepest condolences and I hope they are able to find peace and comfort in light of this tragedy. I sincerely hope that our community at large can be the force that changes the systems we have in place that perpetuates this violence.||

5 notes · View notes

atlanticcanada · 5 years ago

Text

'We mourn for their families': Teacher, nurse, cancer survivor among N.S. shooting spree victims

A 23-year veteran of the RCMP, a 'passionate' local teacher, a nurse, and a retired firefighter are among the victims of a violent rampage in Nova Scotia.

The mass shooting started Saturday night in Portapique, N.S., and ended with the death of the suspect in Enfield, N.S., on Sunday morning.

In that span of time, numerous people were shot dead or had their homes burned to the ground, with them inside, making the spree the most deadly mass shooting in Canadian history.

LISA MCCULLY

Lisa McCully, a teacher at Debert Elementary, is being remembered by students and colleagues as “a shining love” to her family and friends.

Her sister, Jenny Kierstead, told CTV News that she is thankful for the outpouring of support from the community that clearly loved her sister.

“Lisa was an incredible educator and the best mom possible and I think that the influx of messages that we have received is really a testament to the impact that she had on people’s lives and for that I’m grateful,” said Kierstead, who also posted a statement to Facebook on Sunday expressing the family’s heartbreak.

"Our condolences go out to the other family members who are affected by this tragedy. Thank you for your support, it’s a hard day,” she wrote.

McCully’s death was confirmed by the Nova Scotia Teachers Union Sunday.

“9300 NSTU hearts are broken along with those of her colleagues and students at Debert Elementary, as well as her family and friends who knew her not only as a passionate teacher but as a shining love in their lives,” the statement said.

KRISTEN BEATON

In a statement released Monday, the Victorian Order of Nurses (VON) confirmed the identities of two other victims, Heather O’Brien and Kristen Beaton, both of whom worked for the health care organization.

“We have been in touch with their families and are offering our sincere condolences and support during this difficult time,” read a statement from VON president Jo-Anne Poirier.

“All of our frontline care providers are heroes. Yesterday, two of those heroes, Heather O’Brien and Kristen Beaton, were taken from their families, and from VON. We mourn their loss, and we mourn for their families.”

Beaton, a continuing care assistant with VON, was a young wife and mother. Her husband, Nick Beaton, said recently she cried everyday worried she would bring COVID-19 home to her son and was vocal about providing more Personal Protective Equipment (PPE) for frontline workers like herself.

In an interview with CTV News Chief Anchor and Senior Editor Lisa LaFlamme, Nick Beaton said that he wants to take up his wife’s torch and fight for more PPE for frontline workers.

Read more: 'Mummy is in heaven': Husband of N.S. shooting victim gives emotional interview

He and his wife had heard about the rampage in Portapique the night before she died, but had no idea the shooter was still out there when they woke up the next morning.

“If I had known he was on the loose, I would have not let my wife leave the house that day,” Beaton said.

Kristen Beaton had been pregnant with the couple’s second child when she was killed. Her husband said they had been planning to announce the pregnancy to their families this week by having their three-year-old son Dax wear a shirt with the announcement.

“I want (Canadians) to know, and I want my son to know for his entire life that she loved him more than I’ve seen anybody love anything,” Nick Beaton said. “Amazing mother, amazing wife.”

HEATHER O’BRIEN

O’Brien, a wife, mother and grandmother, worked as a licensed practical nurse with VON for nearly 17 years, according to the organization.

O’Brien’s daughter Darcy Dobson said her mother sent her last text message to a family group chat her family at 9:59 a.m. Sunday, “by 10:15 she was gone,” Dobson wrote on Facebook.

“This will be hard but it will not be Heather O’Brien’s defining moment! I want everyone to remember how kind she was. How much she loved being a nurse. The way her eyes sparkled when she talked to her grandchildren and the way she just LOVED Christmas,” wrote Dobson.

“Let those things define her. Not the horrible way she died."

O’Brien’s family called her the “matriarch” and “glue” of the family, in a statement provided to CTV News. She was “spiritual,” “stubborn” and “sarcastically hilarious.” She married in 1985 and had eight children, who were raised in “a big home surrounded by love.”

“We are falling apart without her,” the statement said. “Her children and grandchildren were the lights of her life and every one of them is missing a piece of their heart.”

O’Brian, who was 55, lost her own mother at the same age in a house fire, the family said.

“Instead of falling apart, our mother in her early 30s, took a deep breath and tried to fill the shoes of her mother before her,” they said. “She also was a mother to many other kids as we were growing up. She never turned anyone away. She didn’t care who you were, where you had been or what you had done.”

JOLENE OLIVER, AARON TUCK, EMILY TUCK

Jolene Oliver, her husband Aaron (Friar) Tuck and daughter Emily Tuck were also among the victims, found in their family home.

Oliver’s sister, Tammy Oliver-McCurdie, told CTV News Monday that the family were neighbours of the shooter. She says although they had disagreements in the past her sister mentioned nothing that would have prompted such a vicious attack.

Speaking to CTV News via Skype from her home in Alberta, Oliver-McCurdie described her sister as a people lover who enjoyed poetry and life. She said her husband was amazing at fixing cars and making things out of leather.

Emily Tuck, 17, was a “natural” fiddler who had been using music to help her family through isolation during COVID-19.

Oliver-McCurdie has started a GoFundMe page dedicated to figuring out the logistics of giving her sister and family a burial. She says her family was already struggling financially due to the ongoing COVID-19 crisis.

SEAN MCLEOD, ALANNA JENKINS

Sean McLeod was a corrections officer at Springhill Institution, a federal prison in Springhill, N.S.

He was found in the burnt-out remains of his home in West Wentworth, N.S., roughly 50 kilometres north of Portapique, along with another victim: his partner, Alanna Jenkins, a corrections officer at the Nova Institution for Women in Truro, N.S.

His daughter, Taylor Andrews, lamented the loss on Facebook Monday.

“I just can’t wrap my head around the fact that I’ll never be able to call my Dad to ask him some silly question about being a grown up, or see the way my baby’s face would light up and squeal ‘Nana’ when she walked through the door,” she wrote of the pair. “There’s just not enough words to even begin to give these two the recognition they deserve for the amazing people they were.”

GREG AND JAMIE BLAIR

Greg Blair and Jamie Blair, a married couple, were also killed in the attack.

In a memorial posted to Facebook, family member Jessica MacBurnie described the couple as "beautiful souls," noting that she has "no words for the heartbreak my family and many others are going through.”

Another Facebook memorial post by Victoria Lomond, remembered Jamie Blair as a “care-free, kind and fun loving woman.”

“I have never known a love as strong and pure as Jamie and Greg’s,” Lomond wrote.

She said that the couple’s four boys were “the absolute centre of Jamie’s world,” and that “the last moments of her life were spent protecting [the] littlest two from unspeakable harm.”

Karl Kaulback, Greg Blair’s uncle, told CTV News that his nephew would “give the shirt right off his back for anybody.”

In an interview with CTV News Channel, one of Greg Blair’s sons, Tyler Blair said he tried to call his father and step-mother Saturday night but there was no answer.

Blair said he convinced himself that they were asleep. He said he was visited by the RCMP on Sunday afternoon, who confirmed that his dad and Jamie were killed in the attack.

Blair said his dad has a shop across the road from where the killer lived. He said there is a trail leading to Greg and Jamie’s house from the shop.

Blair said his dad’s two younger sons, aged 10 and 12, were also in the house the night of the attack but hid until the killer left.

“They had seen a lot that night, But I’m amazed at how strong they’re being,” Blair said. “They hid in the house until he was gone and then they took off to the neighbours house and hid inside with their two little kids next door until the cops came.”

Blair said his brothers are now living with him and in his care.

Blair described his father as a “very hard worker.” He said most of the family worked for his dad.

“Everybody that met my old man, just loved him,” Blair said. “He was about to turn 46 this week and he acted like he was a 20 year old partying with me and my friends all the time, everybody just loved him.”

Blair said his stepmother Jamie had been in his life for about 20 years.

“She was amazing and became a second mother to me,” he said. “I just don’t even have words on how great those two people were.”

A GoFundMe page has been set up for the family. Blair says he is overwhelmed by the response it has received.

“I can’t put it into words how much we appreciate it all… Hopefully we can return the favour someday to everybody,” Blair said.

TOM BAGLEY

Tom Bagley, a retired firefighter, was killed in the shooting spree, CTV News learned Monday.

In Facebook posts, Bagley’s daughter and nephew described him as a “beautiful soul” who was known for his “kindness, caring and incredible story telling.” His daughter, Charlene Bagley, wrote that he died trying to help others.

“[I]f you knew him, you knew that was just who he was all the time. I know he meant something to so many people,” she wrote.

“Tom was an awesome individual that could always bring a smile and a laugh any place and in any situation,” Jeff Flanagan wrote about his uncle on Facebook. “He was a retired Firefighter and was always eager to help anyone he could.”

GINA GOULET

Cancer survivor and denturist Gina Goulet also died in the rampage. In an interview with CTV News Channel, Diane Muise said her friend had an “all or nothing” spirit.

“She was absolutely full of life and energy. There was no such thing as doing things a little bit,” said Muise. “She went from loving to fish to getting dressed up and doing her salsa dancing.”

Muise said she’ll miss Goulet’s laugh the most.

“We just had so much fun, whether it was walking through Costco playing Marco Polo, or driving her Corvette—we were Thelma and Louise. She was just so full of life.”

Goulet had survived brain cancer once and was on her way to fully recovering from a second diagnosis, which Muise said her friend was taking in stride. Her attitude was: “I’ve got to beat it and move on. I have so many things to do,” said Muise.

Goulet was a denturist who had her own business, which she operated out of her home in Shubenacadie, N.S. Her friend recalled several times that Goulet visited a woman in her 90s at a hospital to help fit dentures.

“She loved to make people smile — literally make their smiles,” she said. “She just had a big heart.”

In Facebook posts commemorating the woman, friends said Goulet always exhibited “fierce independence” and had a “gutsy spirit” and “warm smile.”

“Our hearts go out to the family, especially her daughter,” wrote Lindy Weilgart on Facebook.

Goulet's only child, Amelia Butler, shared a photo of her and her mother on Facebook, writing “My angel,” with a broken heart emoji.

The two were "super close," said Muise.

“She was so proud of the wonderful young lady she’s grown into,” she told CTV News Channel.

CORRIE ELLISON

Corrie Ellison, who was visiting his father in Portapique when he was killed, is being remembered by friends as “a beautiful soul.”

A friend of his, Ashley Fennell, told The Canadian Press that she had been friends with Ellison for almost a decade, and that he had always gone out of his way to help those he loved.

"I would call him, and it didn't matter what he was doing, he would jump for me," she said.

His father, Richard Ellison, said he was “the type of person that I don’t think anybody would want to see that happen to him.”

The 42-year-old was on disability support because of an old injury, Fennell said. Ellison had no children of his own, but had offered Fennell money for her son’s gifts last Christmas and had taken the boy on a trip to a water park once when Fennell was struggling.

“He was just such a nice guy,” she said.

JOEY WEBBER

According to a GoFundMe posted by his partner’s family, Joey Webber went out on an errand on April 19 and never returned home.

It has been confirmed to CTV News that Webber was among those killed in the attack.

Webber was a father to three daughters. The two younger daughters he had with his partner, Shanda MacLeod, whose family set up the GoFundMe, to try and support MacLeod and the children in the wake of Webber’s death. The page said that Webber was the sole provider of the family, and had been out of work due to the pulp mill he worked at having been shut down.

Webber had just returned to work two days before he was killed.

LILLIAN HYSLOP

While out on a regular walk in Wentworth Valley, Lillian Hyslop became one of the victims of the killing spree.

Neighbours Heather and David Matthews said they frequently crossed paths with Hyslop while on walks outside. The day that Hyslop died, the couple had decided to walk a trail by their home instead of on the main road. That was when they heard the gunshot.

Speaking to CTV News, Dave Matthews said he believed if there had been a widespread alert about the shooter still being at large, Hyslop, “wouldn’t have gone out for a walk, and she might not have been killed.”

Hyslop was known for her “community spirit,” Heather Matthews told The Canadian Press, and always contributed to local events such as community suppers and activities.

JOY AND PETER BOND

Peter Bond’s cousins, Deanna Gionet, confirmed in a Facebook post that the couple where victims of the shooting.

"I will never understand heartless inhumane acts like this," read the post. "So tragic for so many."

Gionet said Joy and Peter lived in Portapique, N.S., where the attack took place.

JOHN ZAHL AND ELIZABETH JOANNE THOMAS

John Zahl and his wife Elizabeth Joanne Thomas are presumed dead.

The couple’s son, Justin Zahl, told CTV News Channel on Monday that he hadn’t heard from his parents since 6 p.m. on Saturday.

Zahl said his mom would always send him a good night text. But that night, there was no message, and he hasn't received one since.

Nova Scotia police have confirmed the couple’s house burned down. Zahl assumes his parents were inside the house.

He says he is searching for dental records to give police to confirm his “worst fear.”

"(It will) maybe take a week or so to figure out the identities of the people in the house," Zahl said. "I want to put my faith in the system, but it's hard to."

FRANK AND DAWN GULENCHYN

Couple Frank Gulenchyn and Dawn Gulenchyn are presumed dead.

In a Facebook post, one of Dawn’s sons, Jon Farrington, said his mother and stepfather's home had been burned down and he hadn't heard from them.

A GoFundMe page has been set up for Jon and Dawn’s other son, Ryan Farrington.

CONST. HEIDI STEVENSON

RCMP Const. Heidi Stevenson also died Sunday morning while responding to the active shooter incident.

Stevenson, a 23-year veteran of the police force, left two children and a husband at home, according to a statement from Nova Scotia RCMP Commanding Officer Lee Bergerman.

“Heidi answered the call of duty and lost her life while protecting those she served,” Bergerman said in the statement.

Those who knew the officer said she was a loving wife who "lived for her family" and worked tirelessly for her community.

"She had a smile that would light up a room. I was thinking last night if I've ever seen her not smiling, and I don't think I ever have," RCMP Sgt. Joe Taplin told CTV's Your Morning Monday.

"Heidi was all about her family. That was all she ever talked about when she would come to work... I can't even start to put it into words, what [her family] is going through. It just hurts to much."

Stevenson was well known in the RCMP's small N.S. division, according to Taplin who noted "we have all crossed paths in some way."

"She probably saved a lot more lives than we'll ever know doing what she had to do to prevent this individual from causing more harm," he said. "She's probably one of the most wonderful, caring persons that you'd ever come across."

RCMP Commissioner Brenda Lucki described Stevenson as someone with a "great love of life" who was dedicated to her role as an officer. She was also a media spokesperson for Nova Scotia’s RCMP, where she participated in radio and television interviews for several stories pertaining to police activity in the area.

“Anybody that knows her said she had just a great love of life and she was a hard worker and very dedicated to her chosen career,” Lucki said.

RCMP continue to investigate the incident, which involves several crime scenes spread across the province. In a statement Sunday, Premier Stephen McNeil described the massacre as "one of the most senseless acts of violence in our province's history."

With files from The Canadian Press, CTVNews.ca's Brooklyn Neustaeter and Alexandra Mae Jones

from CTV News - Atlantic https://ift.tt/3aArcxP

#new brunswick #prince edward island #nova scotia #news #politics #canada #CTVAtlantic

6 notes · View notes

lostfunzones · 5 years ago

Link

Congratulations to the people of ‘Great’ #Britain for voting the ruling elite into power yet again. You certainly do know your place. Now they have a mandate to treat people with disdain and contempt, for the next five years. I always thought people in the #US were dumb, but there is a new kid on the block vying for the title. How can a party offering no credible policies, with a history of inflicting misery on millions, with a leader who hides in a fridge when things get mildly difficult remain in power. I could glibly say you get what you deserve, but that would be grossly unfair to the millions who can see through this charade of thinly veiled #fascism.

It would appear that many people from where I grew up in the north have had a lobotomy, believing all that the billionaire controlled media had to say pre-election, because surely they wouldn’t lie to the peasants. Would they? Or is it #Brexit that swayed them? Now that you have your country back, so you say, is it suddenly going to become compulsory to sing “Ing…….err…….land” at nauseatingly high volumes while consuming copious amounts of beer? Is having a tattoo of a bulldog on your arse from the age of 10, going to be a new kind of branding?

hooligan

Well done, you are now free, from what, I’m not entirely sure. The #Conservatives will continue destroying workers rights at a frenzied pace. Expect full steam ahead with zero hour contracts, bogus self-employment, #underemployment, all topped off with an ever eroding safety net. So when the walls come tumbling down following a job loss, nothing will exist to help you out of the mess. Well done, you must be very proud. “But we’ve got our country back”, you may cry. Have you, have you really?

The result would suggest that large portions of the populace have little capacity to critically think. “But we’ve got our country back” I hear once more. “But clearly not the #NHS for much longer” I reply. I’m sure some people will complain that I’m calling people stupid for their political beliefs. To clarify this, yes, that’s exactly what I am doing. If only some of these people could have put their crayons down or possibly read a book without pictures at least once in their lives, maybe things might have turned out differently.

In contrast to the US, where they were voting for change, regardless of what that looked like, it was ultimately a vote against the establishment, albeit misguided. Conversely, the UK have voted overwhelmingly for the establishment. I’m sure the Tories are delighted you all know your place in the societal pecking order. At the bottom, with a very expensive Oxford lace up shoe, made by peasants, kicking you repeatedly in the balls, while you ask for more. After 9 years of crippling cuts to public services, austerity, a decrease in wages and a health system which is about to be privatised, you still voted for a Conservative government. Amazing!!! But not in a good way.

Admittedly, the ruling elite’s propaganda machine has been running on all cylinders and it’s clearly worked like a dream. In contrast, vast swathes of people are about to enter a dystopian nightmare, orchestrated by people who just couldn’t care about you any less. Put a fork in the UK, it’s done! Scotland will rightly feck off into the sunset, as England will be led by a man who can barely form a coherent sentence. Supported by a cabinet who know nothing outside of their privileged, privately educated, corporate run universe from which they rarely venture out of.

BRITAIN-POLITICS-CONSERVATIVES

You could have made it more difficult for the establishment, a glimmer of resistance protecting yourself from the bombardment of excrement raining down from billionaire penthouses would have been nice. Maybe more people could have searched behind the headlines of the Sun and the Mail to dig a little for the truth. Instead the population by in large responded to a hollow slogan, “Get Brexit Done”. At which point you ran in like a little puppy dog hoping your master would tickle your tummy. Instead of fighting for something better, you gave up, handing the nation to psychopaths, billionaires, millionaires and right wing ideologues.

The establishment will be laughing their collective cocks off, sat in their private London clubs drinking brandy and smoking cigars. Patting each other on their backs for getting the working class plebs to vote for the abstract construct of #Brexit, over real issues such as; healthcare, education, public services and increasing poverty. The people of #Leigh, #Bolsover, #Blyth Valley, and #Durham among others should be disgusted with themselves, scoring an own goal of monumental proportions.

You had a chance to elect a decent man, who has fought for peace and fairness all his life, who wanted a better place for everyone. But you blew it #Britain. Now you will have to live with the consequences, while explaining to your children and grandchildren what you did on that fateful day in December 2019. My sincere condolences for those who chose wisely, who could see behind the slurs and right wing bile. Good luck in the future, I suspect you will need it.

#uk election #establishment #capitalism #austerity

5 notes · View notes

lenezdansleruisseau · 5 years ago

Text

Turning

(My contribuition to Barricade Day, the day after)

Did you see them going off to fight?

A mob of people had created around the cart in its way from the destroyed Inn to the morgue. Curious, bored, worried, loud, crying, shouting people. All of them trying to get a look inside the small cart where the bodies of the revolutionaries had been amassed.

“Traitors,” one young woman commented even though she was walking on her toes trying to get a pick over the sides of the cart.

“Don’t speak ill of the dead, Emma,” her friend reprimanded.

“I’m just stating the truth,” Emma replied shrugging.

“Have you heard that one of the soldiers that shot them said there was an angel among them. He had a halo and a flaming sword,” another girl whispered to them excited.

“Don’t be ridiculous, if there had been an angel amongst them, they wouldn’t be on that cart right now,” Emma said annoyed.

“Well, Christ was the son of Our Lord, wasn’t he? And he still decided to die for our sins,” Emma’s first friend reasoned.

“Are you really comparing Our Lord Christ with one of these traitors?” Emma asked feigning herself more scandalized that she actually was.

“Have you seen poor Sara?” the third friend asked allowing the first one to avoid answering the uncomfortable question posed by Emma.

“What about her?”

“She’s there crying like a fountain, I think this is the first time in my life I don’t see her with a smile on her face” she answered nodding towards the other side where other headset-covered heads were visible. “I’ve heard that she was suspiciously friendly with one of the young men up there.”

“Wasn’t she engaged with that lawyer?” Emma asked. He friend smiled maliciously instead of replying.

“Lawyer would be an exaggeration really. I’ve heard my own Thomas’ friends say that he barely showed up for classes,”

“Oh! You two are horrible. How can you talk like that in such a moment?”

“Shut up, Catherine, if you were really so respectful you would be at home sewing not here mudding your petticoats,” Emma commented harshly.

Children of the barricade who didn't last the night

The lifeless bodies of almost children were exposed on a bare wooden table in the middle of the cold room, limbs overlapping, empty eyes staring at the ceiling, blood darkening their clothes. The captain didn’t miss the irony of those boys dressed for a funeral: they had hoped to start a new world from the death of Lamarque, but they only managed to walk towards their own end. A pity, really. He was sure they were smart kids.

They could have become doctors, lawyers, artists even, had they just learned to accepts the world for what it was: unjust.

He remembered being young, though, that desire to being different and make the difference.

“Captain, what do we do with this one?” the voice of one of the youngest cadets distracted him from his thoughts. Copeu was his family name, he had started active service not even a month ago, he was younger than most of the young men laying on the table.

“Which one?” he asked tiredly.

“The prisoner they shot during the fight? He was executed after the first attack.”

The captain nodded, he remembered that one. The other captain, the one whose battalion had been responsible for the deaths of those same boys that he was in charge of guarding as if they could still be a threat to their precious monarchy, well, he told him he had died professing his loyalty to his traitorous cause.

“Not even a finch when we blindfolded him. I doubt even half of my men would be as brave,” he had told him with admiration. The captain had thought that a quite stupid comment: not half of their man fought for anything else than to be paid at the end of the month.

“What about them?” he inquired turning his attention back to the young soldier.

“Should we treat him in the same way? He was executed after all, should we make him an example or…”

“And how to you propose to do that?”

The young man froze with his mouth open and then closed it suddenly lowering his gaze.

“I didn’t mean to overstep, captain.”

The captain sighed.

“Make him an example, soldier, and you make him a symbol too. He’s dead and soon there will be no one to remember his name or his sacrifice. Isn’t that enough?”

“Of course, captain,” the kid said and turned back to his companions.

Did you see them lying where they died?

The firsts to arrive were always the Parisians, of course. Mothers, sisters, wives, and daughters in some cases, they all come in. Some crying, some angry, some frightened as if the soldiers were there to kill them too for the crime of losing a loved one.

Mistresses were the easiest to spot. They always remained near the entrance, afraid to disrupt the grief of the families, almost as if they didn’t deserve to feel the same heartbreak of the mothers or sisters.

That day one, in particular, caught the keeper’s attention: she was small and smartly dressed, but her eyes were the feature that more peculiar: they were round and amber, the sort of eyes you would expect on a fortune-teller’s face. They were also red and wet with tears.

She was frozen at the entrance, her eyes fixed on the bodies lying on the table. She seemed to find the courage to move almost suddenly, without warning. Still, she walked slowly, uncertain on her legs. Her hands were trembling and were clutching a white handkerchief so hard her knuckles were almost as white as the piece of fabric.

She stopped at the edge of the table, then she bent and laid one gentle kiss on the foreheads of two different boys.

Well, that wasn’t the strangest thing the keeper had ever seen in his life.

She whispered something and slowly more and more tears started flowing down her face.

The young woman tore her handkerchief in two pieces and then folded the two parts neatly into the two boys’ breast pockets, then she dried her eyes with the back of her hand and she gave her two lovers one small smile. She moved towards the door, but her eyes fell upon one of the other body. The short one with the black curls and the crooked features, not that those were visible at the moment being half hidden by one of the other man’s arm.

“May I… Would it be possible for me to turn him, monsieur?” the young woman asked to no one in particular, her voice barely more than a whisper.

“Of course,” answered the keeper and moved to help her turn the body. When the face became completely visible, the small composure she had been able to maintain disappeared in an instant. Two identical rivers of tears started flowing down her face while she shook her head incredulous.

“No, no, no, no, this is not possible. He wouldn’t… He didn’t…” she murmured between sobs.

“He did, mademoiselle. He was one of the leaders, he declared so himself before getting shot with his friend,” he replied, remembering what he had heard from the two young soldiers who had brought them all in.

At those words, she looked at him with surprise and then started laughing, and empty and bitter laugh, probably a result of the shock.

“No, he wasn’t,” she insisted shaking her head and no one had the strength to insist. “You said they died together?” she went on gesturing between the body of the two leaders.

“Yes, mademoiselle. Holding hands or so they told me.” Answered the keeper. He thought he could be a comforting thing to know: that your loved ones didn’t die alone, lost and hopeless.

She nodded. She seemed almost serene after that piece of information and the man was happy to have given that to her, at least.

“Well, R, there are worst ways to die, aren’t there?” she said turning to the lifeless body. “Adieu, mon cher,” She added before passing her hand through his bloodied curls and go away without turning back.

Someone used to cradle them and kiss them when they cried

Sometimes there were very strange clients at funeral homes. Monsieur Brumont, after twenty-five years of honored work in the field, knew that well.

A young woman entered the shop. She was the first one of the day, but she wasn’t going to be the last. She wasn’t crying, but she had a lost expression on her face while she looked around at the caskets exposed.

“Do you need help, mademoiselle?” Brumont asked her after long minutes passed without her doing anything at all.

“Madame,” she whispered.

“What?”

“Madame, I got married a couple of months ago.”

“I didn’t mean to offend, madame. I was just wondering if you needed help.”

She nodded. She looked resigned.

“My husband, he was in the National Guard before marrying me. He used to come at the Cafè Musain every day with his friends, exactly like all of them,” she told him pointing outside the shop’s window which was respectfully covered with a heavy black curtain. “Drunk the same wine, told the same jokes, he was a little less educated, but who notices after a couple of bottles of wine, right? He could have easily been fighting today had I refused to marry him, but I was just the dishwasher, with no better prospects, how could I say no?”

“Are you all right, madam?” the same soldier asked with a worried look.

She startled as if she had forgotten of their presence during her little speech.

“Yes, of course, I’m sorry. I mumble when I’m nervous. Like most people after all,” she replied quickly and blushing profusely. She started searching for something inside the pockets of her coat and doing some kind of math under her breath. Brumont didn’t comment further. Who was him to judge somebody’s way of mourning?

When she seemed satisfied with her counts she turned once again towards him and asked: “I’d like to purchase a, uhm, one of…”

She couldn’t bring herself to say the word casket, that was pretty clear.

“Just tell me which one, madame,” he said gently. The young woman took a sigh of relief and pointed to the simplest one.

“Is it for your husband, madame?” Brumont asked with just the right amount of interest that could be considered respectful. “In this case let me give you my most sincere condolences.”

She shook her head.

“No. My husband is at work right now. It’s for… one of the men who died today. He didn’t have anyone except for those who died at his side. He was a good man. I can’t bear the thought of him in a mass grave.”

Did you see them lying side by side?

The night fell on that day of misery.

A girl was entering the morgue through a window left slightly open for aeration. She walked in the dark with the certainty and the calm of a cat, but in her eyes, there is more of the wilderness of a wolf. After nearing the table where the bodies are exposed, she took something from the pockets of her threadbare coat and a moment later a cheap candle is lightening the motionless faces.

She started moving around the table, searching for something or someone, and she stops in front of the only girl among the corpses, not that anyone realized that. She put one hand inside one of her pockets and fished out a battered yellow rose, she looked at it for a moment thoughtfully before tucking it in one of the buttonholes of her sister’s coat.

“Who’s there?” the voice of the keeper called from the darkness.

But the light had disappeared when he entered in the room and so had the young girl.

Who will wake them? No one ever will

On the ruins of what was once the Corinthe children were playing. It was surely not a safe place where to play and had the kinds, anyone, to care for them they would have been reprimanded and sent to bed without dinner. Things being as they were they weren’t going to be reprimanded but most of them were probably going to sleep without eating.

But they didn’t care for that at the moment. They were playing.

Navet had found a top hat near the rests of the barricade next to the Corinthe and he’s telling the other gamins all about the original owner.

“He was a really fancy one, he was. But he was all right. He would always give me some sous when he saw me and he invited me to breakfast sometimes. He let me buy pastries and all those kinds of stuff.”

“Yeah, me too!” exclaimed another gamin while dangling quite dangerously from a pole stuck in the barricade.

“He also had ninety and three lady friends and he would always buy them chocolates and flowers and treat them like they were all the queens of France,” Navet continued.

“That is not true,” commented another who had found a bottle of wine and was quite decided to open it.

“It is, I tell you! I heard it from the dressers at Theatre Lyrique.”

“Well, I heard that he was making laughing at the faces of the soldiers even while they were fighting and that he was still making jokes when they shot him. He laughed at the angel of death itself when it came collecting him,” a fourth gamin said climbing down the barricade.

That information was much more impressive than the one about the lady friends and Navet felt the need to answer it with something as interesting.

“There was also a boy like us on this barricade fighting.”

“They said he died,” confirmed one of the others trying to sound mournful. He was pretty sure it was the right tone of voice one should use for such occasions.

“He didn’t die,” Navet revealed with a secretive whisper, loud enough to be heard by all the other gamins playing around.

“Yes, he did. I saw his body brought into the morgue this morning with all the others’,” a gamin protested.

“No, you didn’t! He didn’t die because he’s the son of a witch and when they tried to hit him he transformed in one of those black and white birds that steals stuff and fly away.”

“A magpie?”

“That one.”

The theory seemed interesting enough not be contested.

The gamin with the wine bottle got tired of trying to open it and just smashed it against the rests of a wall just to brandish it as a sword while climbing over the barricade.

“I’ll fight too at the next revolution. I’ll have a top hat and I’ll make jokes at the angel of death like that fellow who gave us brioches,” he declared solemnly.

“And I’ll have a sword and a musket and I’ll write down with the king on the walls and when we won I’ll say that we gamins should be in charge,” Navet added wearing the top hat on his head and started sauntering away from the barricade.

After all, they had already played there almost all day and it was starting to become kind of boring. There well way more interesting places in Paris.

“I think there should be more eggs, we should say that once we’re in charge,” one of the gamins said following Navet down the road.

#les miserables #les amis de l'abc #my writing #barricade day #well more after barricade day #Cw characters death #canon charachter death

62 notes · View notes

thepilotanon · 6 years ago

Text

Prelude xvii

...to the next stage {masterlist}

It’s officially cold outside and all I want to do is find some Supreme Leader Kylo to snuggle and keep warm. Thank you to everyone who sent very sweet messages last chapter, I really appreciate and love reading them (that warms me up, hahah). Please feel free to leave a message and I hope you will enjoy!

warning: slight violence, but nothing too graphic.

General Armitage Hux was used to being put on the spot, especially when it came to working the First Order. For him, he was born and raised in military glory, in conducting a symphony of armies and battles to succession and winning against the Resistance, or any other small military militia attempting to overthrow the golden title for the galaxy’s future. His father never failed to remind him of being a little speck in the vast galaxies of planets, moons and stars, yet he knew that he stood over Brendol Hux with his dying breath. He knew the galaxy saw power in him, even as he died with his eyes open, still staring at his only son, there was no words of comfort or love ever given to him. General Armitage Hux was used to being disappointed to the point of holding a grudge, this was not news…

But he was not used to biting back his fear with the sight of the Supreme Leader’s female apprentice entered the main bridge. Alone, without the guidance of the Commander Ren as usual of her outings.

Turning around to face the main window of the Supremacy, Hux forced himself to keep his cool as he heard the familiar boots of Nova’s steps approach him from behind. A few officers greeted the incoming visitor, which she obviously responded with a smile in her voice that made Hux’s chest twist. It took a moment for Hux to see from his peripheral vision of Nova’s familiar profile, her hands reaching out to the hologrid and beginning to insert specific keys to activate a holomap and data files. For a few, quiet moments, neither one of them said anything as the clicking of boards and beeps of machines continued on.

“Good morning, Hux,” Nova spoke smoothly, her voice causing an invisible shiver within his spine.

Swallowing, Hux then cleared his throat. He didn’t say anything in response to her greeting, feeling it to be a trap or some sort. However, his eyes darted to peek at the holograms she projected to herself, her fingers moving fluidly across the transparent screens, opening and closing files within moments of a simple glance.

“I’m looking at the files of the ‘troopers and officers I trained on Starkiller Base, to see if they are keeping up with their studies and improvements,” she said, making Hux freeze and look away as he realized that she was looking into his thoughts - or was he projecting them for her to see? He didn’t know.

Hux remembers how Nova defeated Snoke’s strongest Elite so easily, making him think of all the possible ways she could attack him.

“Was that intimidating to you?” her voice crept up his shoulder like a ghost, making him stiffen. “Perhaps, if you desire to ease that fright you feel, you should join me when I help train the ‘troopers. I learned very young that being exposed to things you fear most, often makes you used to it.”

“I would appreciate it if you didn’t voice my personal thoughts out to the open of the bridge,” Hux hissed out through his teeth, making Nova hum curiously. “Stop reading my thoughts. It’s an invasion of privacy I still have aboard this ship.”

“You say that, yet Snoke and Kylo can also read you like a book,” Nova responded casually. “Even Phasma can read an expression exposed, it’s not that hard.”

“Mind you that I merely pretend that my thoughts are my own privacy, and intend to keep it that way.” Hux exhaled when her only response was an amused shrug, her hand sliding across the holoscreen to disengage, closing the files all at once. “And not speaking so loudly about my thoughts, either. It’s considered very rude.”

“Not as rude as partaking in having your sibling inject my body with poisons,” Nova whispered, making Hux choke on his own saliva and begin a coughing fit. A passing officer offered him some assistance, yet he waved them away when Nova finally turned to look at him, meeting his eyes…

And smiled brightly before turning to leave from where she entered, saying her farewells to everyone in the bridge.

Hux followed after her with fury, ignoring the confused stares of his underlings and stormtroopers darting out of his way.

Grabbing her by the shoulder, Hux pushed her against the nearest wall, doing his best to radiate his anger towards her inside and out. She didn’t seem fazed by any of it, a simple blink by the hard shove against her collarbone and a bored, expressionless stare.

“She was not -” Hux collected himself to speak quieter, but still venom in his voice while the ship continued on with their day. “She was not my sister!”

“From what I understand, offsprings from a similar parent are considered to be related to each other, therefore siblings,” she responded casually. “You two were related from the same father.”

“Half,” Hux hissed out. “She was my half-sister, but she was never anything close to family.”

Nova’s brows knitted together carefully. “I don’t understand, you say you were not family, and yet you can’t stop thinking that she’s no longer alive.”

Hux swallowed as Nova leaned her head forward, keeping direct eye contact with him, and he felt his skin grow cold from the analyzing stare. “You wonder what happened to her, and how you two shared the same childhood home and servants; how Mara was as brutal to those who poked fun at you as a child, yet offered you kind smiles when she shared extra food with you that her own mother wouldn’t spare for you.”

Frowning, Nova tilt her head. “Different mothers. The one person Mara could never protect you from, and you tell yourself that you hold that against her to become much higher ranked than her. How you felt glad to see her when she entered the throne room while you and Snoke were conversing…”

“She knew what she was doing -”

“And how she was willing to take her life before being caught, but it was too late,” Nova finished with a monotone voice, making the General loosen his hold on her. “You still wonder if it was me who killed her, for trying to poison me for your leader?”

A smile emerged on her face. A sweet, innocent smile that struck right through his chest, as if his own being was in danger. “Oh, Hux, I didn’t execute her,” she confessed kindly. “If it was me who had the honor of killing the ones who were poisoning me, you would have definitely have known. You were also involved.

“My methods of getting revenge and even to those who intended to harm me would have included witnesses that didn’t do anything to stop it,” she explained, as if explaining today’s food portions by color. “I would have started with Mara, of course, but I’d bring her to everyone else to see what to expect. One at a time, slow and painful.”

Seeing how he swallowed thickly, Nova’s eyes glowed with sort of amusement that matched her times playing with random droids aboard the ship. “Ah, now you’re wondering what I would have done! Well, I’m sorry to tell you, Hux, but I don’t like ruining surprises like that. I was taught to never let my target suspect what I’ll do to them…”

Going to her toes, Nova’s soft lips reached to his ear as she whispered so quietly for only Hux to hear. “However, if you’re so curious to know how I would torture my targets, you can always volunteer yourself for a demonstration.”

Hux tried to keep his racing heart down and his thoughts locked away from her, trying to protect himself from being read like a simple younglings’ book. He couldn’t believe everything Nova discovered from just a short amount of time, unless…

Could Snoke or even Kylo Ren read him, and he never noticed?

A sudden pressure to his wrist, Hux’s mouth dropped open to release a silent, agonizing cry when the woman squeezed her much smaller fingers around his circulation, twisting it around. It wasn’t enough to cause a sprain or cracking his bones, yet it still hurt immensely with the way Nova’s expression dropped to a neutral, bored stare as she watched him curl forward and trying to release her grip on him. Leaning down to his ear again, Nova whispered with a more threatening tone that would for sure haunt the General’s nightmares for quite some time.

“Until then, keep your hands off me.”

He stumbled a bit when she casually released him, for her to be so unaffected by anything as she kept her back straight and her smile soft, her hands resting easy at her side as she tipped her head. “My sincere condolences, Hux,” she said, turning her heel and walking away.

Hux was left in the hallway with a bruised wrist, and a bruised ego.

Commander Kylo Ren sat in his room, minding the chilling floor underneath him and tickling his bare feet. Having finished training with his Master and then immediately going to spar with his Knights, Kylo had a filled schedule of constantly being on his feet and working around the Supremacy to the point that he didn’t have spare time to himself or with Nova. Not that it wasn’t common for the both of them to spend so much time, but Kylo felt a sort of tickle in the back of his head that he noticed something different about her from the little chances he had to steal a glance her way. The little, fleeting seconds of seeing her scurry by to her next task of directing a training group or follow officers to be educated on a meeting.

Her mind was at work, jumping from one thing to the next as Kylo could feel the energy of her attention focusing on numerous things at once. Her body never resting and her feet jumping from one spot to another, Kylo could see underneath her facade of her curious eyes and bright smile to others; there was something on her mind, and it was bothering her.

Not having to particularly ask through the Force of looking into her thoughts, or even ask to, Kylo decided to keep his helmet visor to turn her way when she did look towards him, just to let her know he knew. The little spark in her eye directed towards him, and the smile of her lips, was enough for him to continue on and wait until later.

Being that it was now the official night cycle, having finished his own spar and meetings with numerous fleets and bridges at General Hux’s side, Kylo took on a small meditation session to himself. It was somewhat interesting to see Hux having to take frequent breaks in between, massaging his wrist and ordering a cold pack to tuck underneath his sleeve…

No doubt of Nova’s Force remnants radiated off of it, yet Kylo didn’t pursue to look deeper.

Kylo felt the soft weight of her body leaning against his bare back, making him release a soft sigh at the feeling of her hands coming around his shoulders to give him an embrace, her cheek resting against the warm skin on his back. Opening his eyes and ending his meditation, he turned his chin to see her own closed and hair damp from her shower. She was dressed in her pajamas, a silk tunic top that draped over her body and long pants that matched, he felt the material of the clothing only enhance his definition of softness to her body, hair and eyes.

Moving to bounce his shoulder, Kylo allowed her to crawl around and into his embrace on the floor of his chambers. Inhaling the scent of her cleaned hair and fragranced skin, Kylo rest his cheek on top of her hair, relaxing when she snuggled her face into him. Her warm face pressed into his shoulder and breath tickling his neck.

Her thoughts quiet, yet her mind was still buzzing very noticeably.

“You’re curious about something,” he murmured into her skull, moving his lips to her temple to whisper closer to her ear. “What’s the matter?”

“I’m confused of the meaning of family,” she told him softly, making Kylo frown in confusion. “I do not understand, if you’re related by blood to someone, that is the direct definition of family. However, if you maintain a close relationship that is too high of friendship and below of lovers or so, it’s still similar… Yet, with either one, it doesn’t make sense as to why someone would reject them as such, if it makes the most sense.”

Tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear, Kylo processed her words carefully. “You wonder why someone would reject their family, or something along the lines, over something that has nothing to do with their own personal gain.”

“Yes.” Looking up to him, Nova kept her hands on his bare chest, right over his heart. “Wouldn’t one rather be happy to be accepted into a family of sorts, or at least have one companion?”

“Bonds are not looked upon in -”

“I’m not asking this as a Force-user or being part of the First Order,” Nova interrupted him, frowning with sadness, “I’m asking as a living being.”

“Why do you ask?” he questioned her softly, not at all bothered by her sudden stubborness.

“I was taken away from the one who would have been my mother as soon as I was born. I was never given to anyone to be part of a family, only to serve families as a slave,” she told him. “I never got to meet my mother or father, much less know if I have brothers or sisters to call my own… For all I know, I could have killed them without even knowing who they were in combat or by force of an owner.”

Looking up to him, Nova bit her lip at seeing how intently he was looking at her, eyes unreadable. “When you think of your family, even when I don’t ask of them, you have warmth in your eyes and your heart eases. I know you do not have ties with them anymore, but your memories of them still linger, and I love seeing you have those wonderful memories to dream when you have a hard time and you don’t want to talk to me about it.

“Having those to look back on, I wish I could have the same thing, even if it was someone I wasn’t blood-related to,” Nova frowned, looking down to press her forehead to his collarbone. “When I hear or sense one who refuses to acknowledge individuals who give them nice memories...I don’t understand it?”

“And who was the one who inspired this mental conversation with yourself, Nova…”

“Some officers,” Nova answered honestly. “The blonde officer who works in the main bridge in the far right corner, next to the man and communication board; the older officer who brings Hux his caff on routine, and the one that I speak to sometimes before we go to eat lunch. A few ‘troopers under Phasma, and Phasma as well… There’s Hux, and then there is you.”

Kylo’s body stiffened under her touch, and she nuzzled her face further into his neck. “You’ve shown me the good and bad memories of your past, Kylo - of when you went by Ben - of your parents and uncle. I see you hold on to the good memories, and I wish I could have something along the lines of those possessions.”

“Memories?”

“Family moments,” she said softly, almost tired. “People to call family...or to be accepted as something more. I don’t know…”

It took a few long, quiet minutes, both of them remained unmoving, before she felt Kylo’s large, warm hand slip cautiously up her spine and into her wet hair. Nova’s eyes fluttered at the soothing motions of his fingertips massaging her scalp, combing through her wet tresses and avoiding tangles from the conditioner she used. His affectionate gesture caused her to stretch her back and crane her neck upward, sighing softly into his ear when he gave a light kiss to her covered shoulder. Once his hand slid down to cradle her lower back, Nova leaned a bit off of him to meet his gaze.

“I think I often reflect on good memories of my past self,” he spoke softly, his thumb rubbing along her spine with the most gentle strokes, “because, if I had the choice, I somewhat desire to create more of those happy memories someday, with a new family.”

“How does one form a new family?” she asked with furrowed brows.

Swallowing, Kylo used his other hand to push her hair away from her shoulder, admiring the smooth, silky material of her sleepwear. He kept his stare on the careful stitching on the top’s shoulder. “The formation of marriage between two beings also forms a new family between them,” he told her carefully. “Unlike how Bavva III slaves would be claimed to one another from others around them, the real, original meaning of marriage is a form of union between two people…”

“Union,” Nova repeated and Kylo nodded, the corner of his lip twitch.

“Oftentimes, marriage is for love of one another to be bound together, and no one else could separate them, emotionally or physically. Some marriages are for gain in power among families, some for political uses. But...I know more of marriage as to being in love with someone and want to offer them everything beyond something to sell or physically hold.”

“It sounds rare,” Nova mused softly, her imagination soaring for Kylo to see behind closed eyes. “Rare, but very beautiful, isn’t it?”

“I believe so, yes.”

Smiling, Nova lifted her hands and rest one of her palms over his beating heart. The other began trailing light, ticklish touches between each mole and faded scars across the expanse of his bare, broad chest. Familiar with his bare chest and arms from all the times he lounged and slept shirtless, she wasn’t shy about leaning forward to his collarbone and resting her lips against the curve of his clavicle in the comfort of his arms around her body. She hummed against his skin affectionately at the feeling of his fingers continuing their gentle massage to her spine, all the way up to her neck.

“I think you can still have happy memories, Kylo,” she whispered to him, her lips brushing up his neck and feeling his pulse. “I think you can have whatever you like.”

“As I think you can too, love.” Turning his cheek, angling his chin just right by the time her mouth reached his jawline, Kylo brushed his lips against hers with careful measure. “Remember, you’re a free being now, you can do whatever you wish without consequence or anyone to stop you by command.”

Allowing him to give her a quick kiss, Nova thought it over carefully. Sensing her mind sparking with thought, Kylo pulled away far enough to speak. “Yes, no one can stop you from doing what you wish,” he smiled against the corner of her lips.

Nova made a soft noise, bumping her nose with his as she continued to contemplate the possibilities. Kylo chuckled, giving her another quick kiss before rubbing up and down her back.

“It’s best to just forget of what is in the past,” Kylo suggested as he carefully lifted her off his lap and proceeded to get up. “Think of the future.”

Nova blinked, eyes following him as he stood at his full height and stretched his back. “Let the past die?”

Kylo released his stretch, meeting her gaze as he processed it. “So long as I know I’m not who I once was - a slave who battled - and that I have no more restrictions held against me, it would be best to let the past die, right?” she suggested, trying to find the right words.

Hunching down, Kylo gently cupped her face with both hands and pressed a careful kiss to her forehead, then down to her cheek. “Perhaps, if that is for the best,” he agreed. “I’m going to take a bath, alright? Try not to think too hard about it, you’re just fine, Nova.”

Watching him leave to his refresher and closing the door, Nova hummed a bit and listened carefully for him to prepare his tub and the sloshes of water before getting up and approaching the door. Using her knuckle to knock once, she waited until the hatch hissed open to enter the brightly lit refresher with the scent of the bath mix of strong mint and herbs to handle back aches and muscle soreness.

With Kylo’s back to her, his arms resting on the rim of the large tub with his knees peeking from the colored water - a deep red - turned his head to see her approach him in a similar way of greeting him earlier. Watching her approach his back and wrap her arms around his naked neck and chest, Nova rest her cheek on his shoulder with closed eyes. Biting his lip, Kylo waited before lifting his hand to lightly brush the top of her head, fiddling with a lock of her hair.

“What are you doing now?” he asked, seeing her smile yet refusing to open her eyes.

“Letting the past die,” she told him. “Only bad past memories, though. I refuse to let go at how warm you are, and how I love the touch of your skin; it makes me feel better knowing that I now share a comfortable, soft bed with someone who holds me and keeps me warm willingly.”

“When I meant by past, I actually meant with what was bothering you, love,” he corrected himself, a short exhale of what seemed like a dry chuckle causing her to open her eyes. “Of the past of when you were a slave, or with your parents - it doesn’t matter now, which is not the past.”

“Still, I’m letting it go to thinking of what I can appreciate now,” she proclaimed rather proudly, her lips in a grin. “You’re warm and strong, and I like it when you hold me. I also like how your body looks.”

“My body?”

Nodding, Nova lifted her head to press her mouth against the soft patch of his skin between his collarbone and shoulder. “You have pretty marks on your skin, like the stars and planets outside the Supremacy, and the scars are like shooting stars or flying asteroids. Still warm and comfortable, despite how strong you are physically, you hold me like I’m fragile. I’ve never had that before, and it feels wonderful.”

“Not fragile, treasured,” he corrected. She smiled at that, and Kylo leaned in to kiss the shape of her ear with a simple brush of his lips. Nova turned head closer, giving him a chance to nuzzle her better. “Very, very treasured. A treasure I adore and love,” he whispered, just to feel her giggle against his skin as he nipped her ear affectionately.

A part of Nova’s heart felt the swell of warmth, having herself tuck this small, warm and sweet moment into a new slot of memories for her future.

Fun fact: As Mara was based off of Mara Jade, learning that Hux’s father’s wife was named Maratelle Hux, figured this would be an interesting twist on Hux and Nova’s relationship.

taglist: @ayatimascd @ymariejp @yippee-ki-yay-motherfucker460@formerly-anonhamster @rosalynbair @redhairedfeistynerd @imyourdreamwife @kyloxfem @goth-pigeon

Remember, if you would like to be tagged for future chapters, please don’t hesitate to message me! I’d be more than happy to add you. Thank you for reading and I hope to hear from you!

#pilotanonwrites #kylo ren x reader #kylo x reader #preludekylofic #reader insert #oc/reader insert

31 notes · View notes

imagine-loki · 6 years ago

Text

Irked

Title: Irked

Author: lokilover9 Chapter: #23 Rating:Teen

Shandi heard the sliding glass door, saw Loki strut towards the pools diving board and laughed when zoning in on his arse. “Where did you get those, the local sex shop?” ‘What the fuck? There goes my rogue tongue again today.’

Loki stopped and cleared his throat. “I beg your pardon? First we have the ‘doubt of daddy’s identity’ statement in public, now you freely reveal knowledge of a local sex shop. One ‘I’ your spouse, was unaware existed until this moment. Just exactly what kind of woman did I marry, Elizabeth?”

Shandi smirked. “One with secrets.”

“Is that so?” ‘Minx. What are you hiding?’ “Perhaps one day, you’ll share a few.” He dove in and resurfaced nearby. “Until then, I’ve other news.”

Tony initially brushed it off when Shamus’s sons, common law wife’s, surname rang an odd bell. Until bolting from sleep at four am, yelling at Jarvis to call Phil. Several years prior, Obadiah had spoken of reconnecting with an older half brother, from his mother. The siblings eventually had a falling out, but genius Stark remembered the man’s surname. Shamus’s sons wife was that half brothers daughter, confirming a definite link between Shamus and Obadiah. S.H.I.E.L.D. was already watching the couple like hawks, hoping for further leads.

“He must be ecstatic.” Said Shandi. “Are agents being sent here, too?”

“Only for the three day fair. Considering the towns size, Tony believes others spotted tailing any of the O'Donnell’s, risky. Especially with Tanya lurking about. She could inadvertently place Scott on our heels.”

“Great, now she’s a fly in the ointment.”

“Tonys more concerned about your safety than her interference.” Loki didn’t reveal Starks upset when learning of Tanya watching them, but reassured him of keeping Shandi safe.

“He’s become like a protective big brother to me. Like Nat has a sister.”

“Very nice.” ‘How amusing Pet, considering. And educational.’ Secretly aware of Nats true feelings, Shandis comment reinforced their one sidedness, this being her wish for Loki to perceive.

Upon returning from making herself another drink, Loki was doing an underwater lap towards the shallow end. Shandi jumped in merely feet ahead, making him resurface early, triumphantly smiled and gestured towards her stomach. “Tell me the real reason you didn’t previously reveal this option?”

“Alright.” He cooly replied. “However, first things first. Interrupt my laps, will you?” She squealed when he scooped her into his arms and failed an attempt escape. “I think not. Time for a good old fashioned splash and dunk!” Once out, he darted for the deep end and resurfaced again with her clinging to his shoulders.

“You Brat!”

“I wear the title, proudly.”

“Explanation?” She asked, wiping her eyes.

“Right. It’s no secret Tony would’ve preferred anyone but me, to portray Clifford. Assuming being forced to caused greater concern, I didn’t challenge his stipulations. Including your daytime swimming restriction.” Despite the short time Shandi remained in Loki’s arms, a problem began arising. ‘Disobedient cock alert. Think fast.’ He walked to the side and released her.

“Were you concerned I’d tell Tony?” She asked.

“Somewhat. I do understand everyone’s mistrust of me more than they’re aware. In particular, yours.” Loki rose from the water, returned with her drink and sat on the pools edge. “Had I suggested the illusion, you both may have further doubted my intentions for our mission. That must sound absurd, considering my most recent behavior.”

“It’s all good, you apologized.”

“Not for my actions prior to our mission. Do you recall how our conversation ended at the park the other day?”

Butterflies erupted in her stomach. “Yes.”

“When learning you wished to ask if Thor and I believed Midgardians inferior, it struck me how profound the question must be for you.”

“It is. Humans have been questioning life’s existence on other planets for millenniums. Suddenly you guys appear with abilities we’ve only dreamt of possessing and knowledge we’ve barely scratched the surface of. Can you blame us for having questions?”

“Not in the least, yet learning you purposely avoided me, struck harder. However, it’s no wonder as I’ve behaved like an ass since we met.”

‘Wut?’ “On many occasions, you have. I’m curious to know why Loki?”

“I’ve no reason or excuse and you did nothing to provoke or deserve it. The worst part is I caused discomfort in the very place one seeks it most. Where you live. For everything Shandi, I sincerely apologize and hope you may eventually see me in a different light.”

‘Holy shit, Nat was right.’ “That’s very decent of you to admit, Loki. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. It was long overdue, as is lunch. Care to dine on the deck? I can barbeque.” Before she replied, he abruptly stiffened with an ear to the fence, took her drink and offered his hands. “Come, quickly! Someone’s driving up the hill.” In seconds, they were inside, door locked and blinds closed. “Remain upstairs until I say otherwise.” He waited until she was out of sight, glanced out the front window and opened the door. “Next time, warn us people?”

Nat whacked him in the gut, stepping in. “Why Mr. Bradshaw, were you up to no good?”

Clint followed. “We did, Cactus.”

Shandi heard their voices and came down. “He’s right, I’ve a text. Both our phones were inside.”

“What’s with the oversized bathing suit?” Asked Nat.

Loki and Shandi eyed each other. “Long story, Kroshka. Let’s have some drinks and I’ll explain.”

“It’s nice you’ve a pool. That storm turned the Hudson muddy and we’re bored as fuck in that little cottage.”

“That’s the only reason you came?” Asked Shandi. “I say we toss them out, Clifford.”

Nat slapped her hard on the ass. “As if.”

“Bitch! That kinda stung.”

“Is it my fault your butts wet? Be grateful I forgot the paddle.” The guys quietly observed as Nat studied her for a moment. “You’ve been drinking coco.”

“Have not.”

“Liar.” Said Loki.

Shandi sighed. “Does your spouse often talk too much Mrs. Shriner?”

Clint had begun eyeing Loki’s trunks. “All you need are some aviator sunglasses, a thick cigar and you’d resemble a cheap porn star.”

Nat started for the kitchen. “Ya think, Mrs. Bradshaw?”

“Really though dude, what’s with the lips? You order those trunks from an online sex shop, for some reason?”

“No, but apparently there’s one in town which no doubt, my wife learned of through yours Gus.”

“Way to go, Ella. What did you break or run out of this time?”

“Not me, baby cakes. ‘We?’”

Clint grinned. “Oh yeah, that was fun.”

“What? And you laughed at me for…” Shandi froze, eyes widened at Nat from almost referencing her broken vibrators.

Loki gestured she continue. “Please wife, don’t leave us hanging.”

“Forrr…laughing because I’d never been to one.”

“You lied about going to Manhattan’s largest sex shop alone?” Asked Clint.

“No, she went too.” Nat smiled when Shandi gave her the stink eye. “Sorry, beautiful, I had to tell. He was out of town and went all pouty about it on skype.”

“I wasn’t pouty.” Said Clint.

Nat ignored him. “Don’t worry, I never mentioned your purchases.”

“What?! Because there weren’t any, remember? I only went to accompany you!”

A sly smile curled on Nats lips. “Okay true, but you did inspect a few things.”

“Imagine that.” Said Loki. “Two of earth’s finest super heroes, avidly exploring their perversions. Excellent blackmail material. Don’t you think Mr. Shriner?”

“Yeah, but I’d have to catch them first, Bradshaw.”

Shandi smirked, reaching for some glasses. “Ice for your drinks, people?”

“Sure darlin,’ you know it.”

Loki observed the rooms hubbub in silence. ‘A goal you shall never see to fruition, Clint. They were magnificent to behold, yet I send my condolences in silence. To love a woman and possess only a fragment of her heart is a cruelty none should endure.’ His hands rubbed together. “Right. Now that refreshments are settled, burgers anyone?”

Nat and surprisingly Clint were fine with Loki’s minor illusion and agreed Stark should remain oblivious. How Clint may respond to Loki and Shandis evolving affections was a conversation the ladies still needed to have. Nat learned just how much, when something peaked his curiosity. They’d come prepared, granted a welcome to stay overnight and brought their bag upstairs. So he’d behave, Nat had him change in the spare bedroom and her in Shandis. He waited at the hall window with a clear view of Loki tending the BBQ, as Shandi approached with some buns. She turned to leave, hesitated, then stood on her toes and kissed his cheek. Clint couldn’t hear her words, but the way they looked at each other and the smile on Loki’s face when she walked away, left him overly curious.

“You coming baby cakes, or admiring the forest?”

“Do you think he’s trying to seduce her?”

“What?”

“Shandi just kissed him.”

Nat played dumb. “Are you fucking kidding me? Like really kissed?”

“On the cheek, but still.”

“Interesting. They do seem to be getting along better which no doubt, makes living together easier.”

“He was warned the day we arrived, Nat.”

She stopped on the second step. “I know and Shandis not naive. I think you’re making something out of nothing. There’s a clean and heated pool outside with our names on it. Are you coming or not?”

Clint followed. “If he touches her, Tony will fucking kill him.”

After the kiss, Shandi had taken a moment to straighten and quickly tidy the cushions of two extra lounge chairs. She was heading back inside, a dustpan brush tucked beneath her arm, empty glass in hand and overheard Clints words when reaching the screen door. The glass smashed to the pavement as Nat appeared in view and to hide her discomfort, Shandi hastily squatted to pick up the pieces. Loki asked if she were alright as Nat and Clint went to her aid.

“Geez guys, I haven’t broken a limb, I…uh oh.” Blood rapidly dripped onto the ground from her left hand and Clint grabbed a dish towel as Nat helped her up. “Where’s your Bandaids, woman?”

“In my bathroom.”

“Go get cleaned up.” Said Clint. “I’ll deal with this.”

Nat closed the bedroom door. “We need to talk.”

Shandi ran cold water over the wound. “I heard Clints threat.”

“Oh beautiful. Is that why you dropped the glass?”

“Yeah.”

“He witnessed your kiss through the window.” Shandi revealed why it occurred and Nat smiled. “I told you Loki’s trying to make amends. I’ll tell Clint ASAP, but stay acting professional in his presence. Obviously he won’t accept anything that happens between you two.”

“Dammit Nat. If I’d have switched places with you, this never would’ve happened.”

“True, things could be worse.”

“How?”

“You’d keep liking Loki, but be even bitchier in his presence, unable to comprehend why the hell he didn’t like you.”

Shandi chuckled. “I suppose.”

“Stay put.”

“Where are you going?”

“To prevent Cactus being questioned, before I get to Cupid. Keep running water on that.”

“Hey, can you bring me another coco?” No response. “Guess not.”

With Clint in the main floor bathroom, Nat had a chance to approach Loki outside. “Listen I’ll explain why later, but keep things with Shandi more professional around him.”

His brow arched. “Alright.”

“And how’s your magic on hindering a bleed? Baby cakes and I need a few minutes alone.”

Loki found Shandi with her hand still beneath the tap. “Nat said you wanted another drink?”

“Hey, bonus.”

“Going down smoothly are they?”

She took an extended sip. “Yep. They’re so yummy.”

Loki smirked. “May I take a look?”

Nat lured Clint outside and fabricated the truth a little. “Don’t repeat this because I was told in confidence without even asking about the kiss.” She explained Loki’s apology and he was dumbfounded. “Shandi hadn’t an opportunity to thank him before we arrived and that’s what you witnessed, so relax.”

“Are you sure she was talking about Cactus?”

“Clint.”

“Okay, I’m relaxing.”

Loki finally made the bleeding stop and inspected the long and rather deep cut into the fatty tissue beneath her right pinky. “How did you manage this?”

“Lost my balance when squatting. Just my oafiness I guess.”

“Shandi. I only meant that to tease. Were you offended?”

“Nah, I kinda knew already. Friends used to say I’m like a bull in a china store.”

“I would disagree and argue your aim precise. Had I not possessed magic, I’d have gained some decent bruises from your book attack. Deservedly so, mind you.”

She smiled and indulged further in her drink. Loki believed it the reason she wasn’t experiencing pain.

“Fortunately, the wound is superficial. I can close it and temporarily numb any tenderness if you wish?”

“Really? Wow, yes please.”

“Understand that doesn’t mean it’s healed, so you’ll need to keep it clean and bandaged.”

“Does this mean I can’t go back in the pool again today?”

He smiled at her pout. “I can solve that problem too.” When done, he magicked a waterproof glove onto her hand that matched the pattern on his shorts.

Shandi eyed it and cackled. “Oh lord.” Then she finished her drink. “Thanks Loki.”

“No problem. Come, your burger is getting cold.”

Upon spotting Nat and Clint outside, Shandi darted out the door and waved her gloved hand on her way to the pool. “Look guys! Now I’m a cheap porn star too!” She jumped in and everyone laughed.

Nat then quietly addressed Loki. “How many cocos and mango has she had?”

“Three.”

They all observed Shandi attempt the backstroke and roll onto her side.

“On an empty stomach?”

“You knew?”

Loki noticed Clint smirking as Nat replied. “Yes. No more until she eats.”

“Why not?”

“Does the word handful mean anything to you?”

“Should it?”

Nat and Clint replied in unison. “Yes.”

Shandi stepped out of the pool. “Yes, to what guys?”

“Lunch. Aren’t you hungry?” Asked Clint.

Nat stiffened as Shandi plunked herself into her lap, squeezed her hair over her tits and grinned. “Yep. I could eat.”

‘Not her you won’t, Pet.’ “I’ll get right on it.” Said Loki. Clint offered help and he accepted.

Once they were inside Shandi pinched her cheek. “He kissed me today and damn it was hot.”

Nat covered her mouth. “Shhh. What did we just talk about?” She drew her hand away when Shandi bit her finger. “Beautiful.”

“What?”

“Clint can’t know.”

Shandi devilishly smiled. “About us or Loki?”

“Neither, now keep your voice down and please get off before I can’t feel my legs?”

“I’d like to get off.” Shandi whispered. “Until I fuck Loki, why don’t you take me upstairs and make me?”

Nat made her sit on another chair. “Enjoy the sun a minute. I need another drink.”

“Me too, Natskies.”

“Sure thing.” ‘Fuck, woman. Of all the times for coco to bring out your inner slut.’ She closed the kitchen door. “Give me something. Anything.” Clint held up a jar of pickles and Nat gave him a look. “Think again and she needs a virgin on the rocks.” She grabbed a plate of sliced vegetables off the island and left.

“Dare I ask, Cupid?”

Plates in hand, he went for the door. “It means straight mango juice and ice.”

“Easy enough, hang on. Why the avid concern of Shandi indulging in coco?”

Clint stepped out and winked. “Just keep her away from the pickles.”

That comment made Loki devise a plan. He’d keep a watchful eye over everyone this evening, eavesdrop on his guests conversations as previously intended and assure they had much to drink. Especially Clint. Sleep would undoubtedly claim him first and with Shandis intake easy to monitor, her second. That would leave him and Nat whom he presently eyed. “Hopefully the explanation behind Shandi and those pickles isn’t too outlandish, Kroshka. Regardless, we will talk. We will definitely talk.”

#Loki #God of Mischief #Submitted fic #submission #Irked #chapter 23 #lokilover9

40 notes · View notes