#on top of having to support me abroad if i by some miracle make it there with this awful economy | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

silverfootstepswrites · 4 years ago

Text

Amaryllis | Chapter 19

< Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20 >

++++

Shisui started off his day by spitting tea halfway across the table. He rubbed his handkerchief over his mouth and chin as he struggled to make sense of what his cousin had just said.

“You think what?” he hissed. And then, clearing his throat, he cast a look around the room. Sasuke’s guards were standing outside. The servant girl who had delivered their tea and snacks had long since departed. Still, he couldn’t help but feel nervous. Even if he hadn’t been the one to bring up the subject, him sitting and listening now made him complicit to whatever was to come of this.

“Don’t make me repeat myself. I hate the idea more than you do,” Sasuke sighed. He set his teacup down in the matching saucer.

“You’re speaking treason. You’re going to get yourself killed. Oh, and me as well, now that you’ve roped me into your madness,” Shisui worried.

“You think I don’t know that?” It was Sasuke’s turn to snap. His hands clenched on top of the table.

Shisui’s protests trailed off. They stared at each other. Shisui lowered his handkerchief.

“Is that why Itachi is still abroad?” he whispered, leaning in across the table.

Sasuke nodded. Just once.

“So what do you need from me?” Shisui then demanded.

Sasuke hesitated. He chose his words carefully before he asked: “Your wife… do you think she can be trusted?”

Shisui hissed through his teeth. He leaned back, rubbing a hand through his hair. When his eyes returned to Sasuke, they were sharp with accusation.

“You’ll get her killed.”

“Can she be trusted?” Sasuke repeated his question.

Shisui rubbed his hair again. And then he heaved a sigh. “Of course she can.”

“How do you know?” pressed Sasuke.

“She just…” Shisui paused. Huffed out a long breath through his nostrils. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. Opened them again. “I’d trust her with my life and yours. Tell me what you want.”

Each of the members of the royal family had a personal physician. It was the doctor’s job to know everything about them. To anticipate their needs and to provide prompt treatment. Finding one doctor was a challenge. Finding four was a miracle. Although, with enough money and power, even miracles were for sale.

Sasuke’s physician was a pleasant older man with perpetually cool hands. He had overseen Sasuke’s care since birth. And while he was certainly competent at his job, he wasn’t the person Sasuke needed to talk to.

Karin lowered her spectacles to stare at the two men that entered her office.

“Why not take a break, my love?” Shisui greeted her. He crossed the room before he produced a small bouquet of yellow flowers. Karin didn’t look at the flowers. She continued to examine Shisui’s smile.

She squinted at him.

“What did you do?” she demanded.

Shisui held the flowers up higher. Until she was forced to look down at them. His smile widened as she glowered and accepted them.

“Nothing yet,” Shisui assured her. Karin wrinkled her nose. She fussed with the bright flowers for a moment before she motioned for them to have a seat in front of her desk.

As they settled into their spots, Sasuke tilted his head. He looked from his cousin, a baron of modest but good standing. And then to his mother’s physician, a common woman who was tolerated in the palace due to her skill.

“How did you two marry anyway?” he wondered out loud.

Karin fixed Shisui with another sharp look. “He pursued me aggressively, getting in the way of my work,” she accused.

Shisui leaned against the arm of his chair. “For months,” he added. And then he gave a proud smile. “She despised me. I came to her office every day until she threatened to report me to Her Majesty the Queen.”

Sasuke made a face as he watched the two of them banter back and forth.

He had never understood relationships. He understood that, as a prince, he would eventually have to marry.

His parents were an example of a good union. They spent the required amount of time together for the public eye. Their conversations were polite. Almost always pleasant. On their weekly walks in the garden, courtiers loved to comment at what a lovely couple they made. His father had always honored his mother, and his mother had always supported his father. That was all he had ever known.

From a young age, his mother had made an effort to introduce him to potential brides. But she had never pushed him. Listened to his complaints with patience. Chided him when he was less than polite to these girls. Sitting on her knee, Sasuke had wondered why such silly little things seemed to matter so much to his uncles.

“A stable marriage, my son, leads to a stable kingdom. Your partner will determine the fate of this nation and all its people,” she had always explained to him.

But sometimes, when he looked at his cousin and his cousin’s wife, he wondered whether there might not be more to it than just stability.

“Anyway, as nice as it is to see you, Prince, I’m assuming this isn’t a social visit?” Karin interrupted his thinking. She raised her spectacles on top of her head. The metal and glass was lost in her tangle of deep red hair. He had only ever seen a color like that once before. It was rare enough to turn heads wherever she went.

“Shisui claims that I can trust you with my life. Is that true, Physician?”asked Sasuke.

Karin’s eyes narrowed. “Is that what he said?” she mused. She looked down at the flowers again. Then back up at Sasuke. “Have you gotten yourself into some trouble, Your Highness?”

Shisui pinched his mouth together, trying not to smile. He turned away and pretended to look out the window.

“Well… not yet. It… it depends on your answer, I suppose,” Sasuke conceded.

Karin’s scrutinizing gaze didn’t leave his face. “Your question makes me feel the need to remind you that I am in the service of your mother, Your Highness,” she stated.

Sasuke felt heat creep up the back of his neck. But he refused to look away. He nodded.

And after what felt like an eternity, Karin smiled.

“But, ultimately, I serve the Crown. So what can I help you with?”

+++

Itachi hadn’t quite known what to expect when people had warned him of the rainy season that settled over the tea isles for half the year. The rain rarely lasted for the whole day. Often, storms hurried in, enveloping the island before rushing off just as quickly. Sometimes, people didn’t even bother rushing indoors. Baskets on their hips, they leaned against palm trees or ducked under eaves until the clouds passed.

But on the days when the rain lingered, it drenched the island. The walkways grew slick, and some of the regular paths turned to mud. The servants of Sami were busy mopping up puddles and searching for leaks. Small problems had to be addressed before they could grow. A tiny leak gone undetected could lead to the entire roof collapsing in a few month’s time.

Still, life went on. Even during this rainy season.

The stalls in the market had been designed with this precipitation in mind. Panels folded and shutters closed to protect the wares within. And when the rain eased a little, the stalls opened back up to conduct business as usual. Even in the rain, divers continued to hunt for pearls. The servants in the palace kept kneading dough and folding laundry that had barely made it inside in time.

Dark clouds had gathered on the horizon at dawn. Before the sun could lift its face over the horizon, rain battered the side of the building. Normally, the opened sides of the throne room let the breeze rush through. But during the rainy season, wooden panels were installed to keep the wind and the water out.

“Please, My Lord. I am innocent,” an old man rasped. His wrinkled hands gripped his walking stick.

The Duchess’ large chair was empty. Instead, Sasori sat in a smaller chair beside it.

The space between Sasori’s eyebrows wrinkled. He leaned his cheek on his hand as he stared the man down.

“Accusing someone of withholding wages is a serious matter,” Sasori stated. He narrowed his eyes. “I doubt it is something that was done without thought.”

The old man’s shoulders trembled. He bowed his head. But he did not stumble over his words as he replied: “Yes, My Lord.”

Sasori stared for another moment. And then he closed his eyes.

“Very well. I will look into this matter. And if you have paid this man for his work, he will be punished for false accusations,” he decided.

The old man bowed even deeper. He stayed that way for a long time before he shuffled his way out. Sasori watched him. He rolled some observations around in his head. And then, very carefully, he motioned for a nearby guard.

Sasori pressed a finger to his lips. He waited for the guard to nod before he whispered something. The guard only nodded before he made his way out of the throne room. Sasori leaned his elbow on his armrest. He heaved a sigh before he motioned for the next person.

Leaning against a column, Itachi frowned. The verdict Sasori had laid out was both fair and pragmatic. But something about the exchange had felt a little off.

As if he could hear his thoughts, Sasori turned his head to look at him. The corner of his mouth lifted. He pointed to his foot.

“His limp,” was all Sasori said.

It took a moment for Itachi to realize what he meant. When the old man had entered, he had favored his right leg. But as he departed, he had favored his left. As if standing there under Sasori’s piercing stare had made him forget which side was supposed to hurt. As Itachi’s eyes widened, Sasori smirked. Sasori shook his head.

“People are so sloppy,” he sighed.

As the next person entered for audience, Sasori’s smile faded. But there was still something smug about his eyes as he cast Itachi one last, knowing look.

“What brings you here today? The Duchess is occupied, but I will hear your grievances,” Sasori recited, as he had half a dozen times that morning.

But as Itachi settled in to listen to this next case, he felt something on his shoulder. As he turned, he was met with a white mask and a wild mane of straw-colored hair. He jolted.

Out of all the sword-wielding mercenaries who wandered the palace, Kushimaru was the only one that Itachi could not get used to. Part of that was undoubtedly the way he never took off that mask. And the other was because he never spoke.

Even now, all Kushimaru did was hold out a slip of paper.

Itachi accepted it. He unfolded it to find a short message. It only took a moment to read.

“Right now?” he asked.

Kushimaru dipped his head once. And then he stalked off.

Itachi folded the note and placed it in his pocket. He turned back to Sasori to let him know that he would be leaving. But Sasori was already looking at him. He nodded before Itachi had a chance to mouth anything. Sometimes, Sasori’s acuity was a little frightening.

It had been almost half a year since Sakura’s departure.

In that time, Itachi had learned many things. Like when the fishermen greeted him with a smiling “Howzit, Prince”, he was supposed to answer, “Good. And you?”. Or how arguments in the bazaar always sounded angrier than they actually were. After getting turned around for a few weeks, Itachi had even learned the layout of most of the palace.

In turn, the people of the island were learning about him too. Shizune remembered that he preferred fish and poultry to red meat. The servants starched his clothes a little less because he liked his shirts soft. There was a merchant with a wooden finger who always sent word whenever he procured a new book that he thought might interest him.

Sasuke wrote at least once a week. It was amusing how he spoke to his little brother so much more now that they lived so far apart. The contents of his messages mostly described the mundane. Sasuke wrote about the weather. About how some noble’s daughter had thrown herself at him and begged to have his children. Every once in a while, there were hints of more serious matters, but Sasuke never went into enough detail to cause problems should someone intercept his messages.

From what Itachi could gather, Sasuke had begun requesting more duties. Their father would, undoubtedly, approve of his youngest son taking on more responsibilities. And the nobles who wanted the second prince on the throne would begin moving soon when they began to see Sasuke gaining favor.

As Itachi stepped out of the throne room, he stretched his hand out. A single drop of water fell into his palm, rolling down to his wrist. The rain had retreated, at least for a little while. The dark clouds on the horizon promised more precipitation to come.

“Ah, there you are!”

Itachi lifted his head as Kisame’s voice boomed out. The tall, blue mercenary waved as he strode down the walkway.

“Drinks on me, Prince!” he announced.

Itachi didn’t resist as Kisame threw his arm around his shoulder and lead him in the direction of the city. As they passed, the guards bowed. They sloshed down the steps together, Kisame going on about some type of new drink at one of his usual haunts. The chatter went on and on as they walked the damp streets.

The Sailor’s Rest was one of the oldest taverns in Plumeria. The Swordsmen of the Mist had taken up lodging there during their first days on the island. Although Sakura had offered them rooms in the palace, the mercenaries had declined.

Chojuro was sitting at one of the tables when they entered. Across from him sat Zabuza, who leaned with his feet up on the table. As Kisame walked past, he slapped one of Zabuza’s boots.

“Mind your manners around the prince, Zabuza,” Kisame joked.

“He’s not my master and neither are you,” growled Zabuza in response.

“Yes, your only master lies in your loins,” Chojuro commented as he continued writing. Zabuza’s eyes narrowed.

Kisame grinned. “Honestly. The General would kill you if she could see the way you follow that servant boy,” he goaded.

The space between Zabuza’s eyebrows wrinkled. He glared down at his tankard. “That’s not…” He huffed out a long breath. Before he could finish his thought, Kisame threw himself down in the seat beside Zabuza. He gave him a hearty thump on the back.

“Relax, Zabuza. You look more and more like an old man these days,” Kisame teased.

Zabuza shot another glare at him. “You’re a year older than me.”

“I’m a fresh-faced lad at heart,” retorted Kisame.

A noise of disgust rose around the table. Kisame looked up when something hit his head. He glared up at the rafters, where Kushimaru was undoubtedly hiding.

“Alright, alright. Drinks on me,” Kisame conceded. The noises of disgust faded away.

As the bartender began pouring their drinks, Itachi looked around the room.

Itachi glanced over as Chojuro began packing up his things. “What were you working on?”

Chojuro was oddly soft-spoken to be a mercenary. It was also strange enough that he was literate. Sakura had mentioned once that she thought Chojuro must be a bastard. One who had received an education from his father, but not an inheritance.

“We have a lot of those in the army. I like them. They’re desperate to show the world that they matter. They work harder than most,” she had commented in passing.

“Just making note of some things. It makes it easier to keep facts straight if they’re recorded,” answered Chojuro. As he spoke, Chojuro shut his journal and placed it under his thigh.

The drinks arrived at the table. Kisame took a gulp of his mead.

“How are you feeling, Prince?” he then asked.

Itachi rotated his shoulder as he thought. “A little sore, but otherwise fine. I can’t help but wonder whether you’ve been going easy on me lately,” answered Itachi before he took a sip.

Kisame wiped his mouth on the back of his hand before he grinned a mouth full of sharp teeth.

“Sounds to me like someone’s ready for a bigger challenge,” he declared.

“Or you could do things in moderation, Boss,” Chojuro interrupted.

Kisame made a noise of disgust as he repeated the word: “Moderation.”

Chojuro rolled his eyes.

“You break the prince and I doubt the lady will show you any moderation,” Chojuro warned.

Kisame jerked a thumb in Itachi’s direction. “He won’t break so easy.”

Itachi met Kisame’s eyes. There was something in Kisame’s gaze that made him feel like maybe he wasn’t joking.

Kisame’s hand moved to the hilt of his sword. Chojuro’s fingers slipped into his vest. Itachi followed their stares, turning his head just as the door opened.

Two men walked in, stinking of salt and fish. Their hair and clothes were wet, dripping onto the floor. They each raised a hand in greeting to the mercenaries.

“Howzit, Big Blue,” one of them called out as they crossed the room to join them.

“Not too bad. How was the catch today?” responded Kisame, his hand falling away from his weapon. Chojuro’s expression relaxed as he nodded at the other men.

The fishermen shook their heads. “Poor catch. Maybe we need a new spot,” they lamented. And then their faces lit up even more when they spotted Itachi.

“Ah, howzit, Prince? You looking strong these days,” one of the men commented.

“He trying to catch up with the Duchess, dass why,” the other said.

Everyone, including Itachi, chuckled.

“Please, have a seat. You must be tired,” Itachi insisted. The two fishermen sank into the chairs with sighs. They ordered their drinks, and then they settled in, fanning themselves.

“Ah, you know, Big Blue, we saw something strange before,” one of them suddenly brought up.

Kisame arched an eyebrow as he finished off his mead.

“Saw some buggah sailing in from the west. Weird boat. So we ask him if he lost. Says no. Rude, too,” he recounted.

“Why was it weird?” Kisame queried.

The fisherman shrugged. “Not a canoe like for fishing. Merchant boat, but shaped funny,” he recalled, rubbing his chin.

“Funny?” Chojuro repeated.

The fisherman squinted as he thought. When he looked over his companion, the other fisherman nodded.

“Kind of small… And- ah! There was a crest!” he recalled. He looked around the table. Chojuro had already pulled out his journal and turned to a clean page. He presented his pen, leaning over as he watched the man sketch out what he had seen as best as he could.

Chojuro’s eyes narrowed behind his glasses. “That is odd…” he agreed. His gaze trailed to Kisame, who raised his eyebrows as he thought. He shrugged one shoulder. Chojuro stayed for one drink before he quietly excused himself, journal tucked under his arm.

++++

To the west, in the landlocked capital of the Forest Kingdom, where fishing was neither good nor bad, Naruto found himself at the doors of the temple again.

“So are you going to go in, or are you just going to stand here breathing heavily like some sort of pervert?” Sai drawled.

Naruto spared him a glare. “You don’t have to be here, you know,” Naruto snapped.

Sai blinked. Like he hadn’t expected his charge to talk back. After all, Naruto was usually all laughs and sheepish grins. Sai searched Naruto’s expression before he shrugged.

“They would have my head if anything happened to you. And a certain General isn’t around to play savior,” remarked Sai.

Naruto squinted at him. “You sound real invested in my safety,” he retorted.

Sai smiled. Hand over his heart, he dipped his head. “Your well-being is my top priority. I’m sworn to watch over you, remember?” he uttered. Something about his tone felt threatening.

Naruto felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise. He swallowed.

“…You don’t have to come inside. Wait out here,” Naruto said.

Sai’s eyebrows rose. He searched Naruto’s face before he gave another smile.

“Of course,” he answered. He bowed too deep before he opened the door. It slammed behind Naruto as he stepped into the temple. The sound made him flinch. It echoed off the high ceilings. Thankfully, there was no one praying to disrupt. But it did make the High Priestess gasp. She dropped something metal. It went skittering across the stone.

“Goodness!” she exclaimed. As she got down on her hands and knees, Naruto sprinted down the aisle.

“Let me help you!” Naruto called. The priestess’ head rose toward the sound of his voice.

Naruto found the pendant under one of the pews. He rubbed it clean against his shirt.

“Here,” he said.

She held her hands out, skin white against the soft purple of her robes. The chain pooled in her palm. She closed her fingers around the metal disk. And then she smiled.

“Thank you, Prince. You are too kind,” she murmured.

Naruto rubbed the back of his neck.

“Ah… well, it’s kind of my fault you dropped it. My retainer slammed the door. Sorry about that,” he confessed.

Hinata’s smile brightened. “An apology isn’t necessary. But I appreciate it nonetheless.”

Like all high priestesses before her, Hinata could not see. Blindness was seen as a blessing from the goddess that marked them as chosen. The priestess could remain unsullied by the things of the world if she could not see them. Hinata wore a translucent veil over her face, but anyone could see the cloudiness of her eyes. The way they searched without seeing. She had been born sightless. People had gushed to Duke Hyuuga over how blessed his family was to have given birth to the next high priestess.

Naruto didn’t really care about those things.

The high priestess’ smiles were real. And she was kind. Two things that were becoming harder and harder to come by in this city.

Or, perhaps, he was starting to recognize when a smile wasn’t so sincere.

“How… how have you been?” Naruto asked, struggling not to trip over his words.

Hinata dipped her head. “Quite well. And you, Your Highness?” she asked in turn.

Naruto looked down at his hands. He fidgeted a little before he lifted his chin. He cast a glance around the temple, just to make sure that it was empty.

“Worried… um…” Naruto paused. Stole a glance at Hinata. Her head tilted to one side as she listened.

Naruto tried not to panic before he pulled the words out. Just as he had rehearsed in his head a dozen times over. “Can I get your advice on something?”

“Of course. The temple exists to provide guidance for those who feel lost,” Hinata responded.

“Can we… uh… should we sit?” he then suggesting, glancing around again. Hinata’s smile didn’t change.

“If that would make you more comfortable, most certainly. Would you please assist me?” she requested, holding out her bare hand.

Naruto gulped. He hesitated for a moment. And then he took it. Her skin was smooth and soft. Her hand was so much smaller than his, he realized as he helped her into the nearest pew. When she sat, she withdrew her hand back into her sleeve. Naruto couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed.

He sat beside her, leaving some distance between them. He flexed his empty hand that suddenly felt cold.

“So…” Naruto exhaled deeply. He knocked his palm against his forehead, as if that would shake the words loose.

“Please take your time. There is no need to rush,” Hinata assured him.

That did help a little. He managed to grasp the unraveling threads of the question he had nearly forgotten.

“Say that you have a friend. And… you used to be closer. But lately you’re more… uh…” Naruto stopped as he searched for the word.

“Distant?” suggested Hinata.

Naruto nodded. “Exactly! Distant!” The word echoed back across the vaulted ceiling. Naruto slapped his hands down on his mouth. When he snuck a peek over at Hinata, she didn’t seem bothered.

“Sorry,” he whispered as he pried his hands away.

She nodded. “Quite alright.”

“So, I’ve been trying everything to make things better. But there are just lots of things in this… person’s… life that I want to understand. It’s just like there’s a wall up between us or something,” Naruto explained. He heaved a sigh, elbows resting on his knees. He rubbed his face with both hands.

“I just… I know I’ve messed up some things too. I want to be better. And sometimes it feels like I am being better. But other times… I just don’t know…” he trailed off.

It was quiet for a while. And then Hinata opened her mouth.

“Is it uncomfortable to speak in person with this friend?” she wondered.

Naruto considered that. He chuckled a little. “Yes. I feel like I say the wrong thing… a lot,” he confessed. “Maybe it’s because I get nervous.”

Hinata lifted her arms to adjust her sleeves. There was a thin golden band around her left wrist. It glittered with the movement. Naruto found himself staring at it.

“Have you tried writing to him instead? I often hear that it is easier for some to gather thoughts on paper,” she suggested.

Naruto hung his head. His silence was an answer in itself.

“Your friend… he does not write back to you?” asked Hinata.

“Sh- He doesn’t,” he replied.

Letters upon letters left the capital. Sometimes he even wrote daily. But the days stretched on without a single envelope addressed for him. Even a passing mention of his letters would have been enough in person. But she always stared at him with the same look of impatience. If she even looked at him at all. Sometimes Sakura’s eyes passed right over him- like he was invisible.

“That must be hurtful,” Hinata sympathized. And then her expression shifted. “Perhaps… Have you asked, Prince?”

“Asked what?” Naruto asked in the same glum voice.

“Whether your friend has received your letters. Messengers travel a long way. Letters can get lost now and then,” she explained.

“Maybe… well… no. I have no way of knowing that. I… didn’t think to ask,” Naruto mumbled.

Hinata’s hands slipped back into her sleeves. She offered him a gentle smile. “Then perhaps that is something you can ask him the next time you see him. Misunderstandings grow large in the absence of communication, you see.”

Naruto’s gaze drifted toward the window. The light danced in through leaves. The shadows rippled and swayed across the floor like so many dancers.

“Maybe I should,” he agreed.

As he meditated on this, it occurred to him that Hinata might be right.

The cousin he had grown to admire and then fear had once been his friend. Although she had always been smarter and faster, she had never abandoned him in the woods or left him in whatever ravine he had tumbled down. She had complained and scolded. But never left him behind.

During the few months they had spent together last summer, he had seen the same grudging patience in her. Even when she snapped. Even when she rolled her eyes. She always found him in the room. Always made sure he was safe.

She had even shed blood for him. Spilling it across the floor like scattered sunlight. He tried to remember what emotion her face had shown in that moment. Anger?

No. Fear.

And then relief, maybe?

“I’ll ask,” Naruto decided. “I should ask,” he said again, nodding to himself.

They sat in the quiet for a long while. The clock tower chimed outside. It was noon.

Winter had come and gone. Everyone was hard at work now that they were no longer trapped indoors by ice and snow. There were fields to till. Fish to catch. The entire city was alive and moving.

But all was still inside the temple.

Hinata clasped her hands in her lap. “Can I provide you any additional guidance?” she asked.

“No. Thank you. I feel a lot better.”

Hinata inclined her head. “I am glad to have been of service. The temple welcomes all to find rest from their troubles,” she replied.

“Oh!” Naruto exclaimed. Hinata jumped a little. Naruto didn’t notice as he turned and began digging in his satchel. He produced a bright yellow flower.

“I almost forgot. I brought something for you,” he announced, gripping the stem in his hand.

Rather than the smile Naruto had expected, Hinata answered with silence.

“Forgive my rudeness, but… I… I cannot accept anything from you. Servants of the temple cannot accept material goods,” she uttered.

“Oh. I mean… it’s… oh.” Because he hadn’t even considered what that must have sounded like to her. How many people must have climbed these steps just to bribe the high priestess for a blessing or some sort of favor?

Naruto fumbled for the right words. He looked around. Took a deep breath. Blew it out. Took in another.

“It’s a flower,” he finally explained.

“A flower?” she repeated.

“I picked it in the garden. Because it was pretty. It’s not worth any money,” Naruto went on.

Hinata’s face went blank.

“Is that… still not allowed?” wondered Naruto.

“I…. thank you. But… I still…” Hinata couldn’t finish her thought. Didn’t really need to.

Naruto stared at the wilting flower in his grasp.

“That’s not your fault. I should’ve thought a little more about this,” he sighed. As he got to his feet, Hinata lifted her chin.

“I truly am grateful,” she insisted.

Naruto put on a smile. For who, he wasn’t sure.

“Yeah. I’ll… I’ll come again,” he said.

“Please do.”

Naruto ignored Sai’s questions as he exited the temple. He threw the flower on the street as he strode down the steps. He knew that Sai was commenting about it. But it was easy to block him out.

She had asked him to come back.

That was what mattered more than any of his retainer’s snide remarks.

+++

“It’s been a few months, but Aunt Kurenai says that things are calm back home,” Kankuro skimmed over the message. The paper was in surprisingly good shape for traveling such a long distance.

The seasons meant little in the Viper’s Throat. It was hotter here than it was back in Ebizo’s palace. The last weeks of winter had passed in Baki’s palace with mostly unforgiving, hot days. Now that the calendar’s announced a new season, the temperatures remained unchangingly high.

Prince Baki imported large quantities of ice from the north to store underground. The ice cooled the palace as the air moved up the caverns and into the buildings through large towers. The servants also did their best to keep things comfortable. They ran back and forth chipping off pieces of the ice to scatter into drinks. Azra and Esma kept busy with their large fans any moment they weren’t carrying out another task.

Temari held her hand out. Kankuro leaned over to pass the letter to her. Temari rubbed her knuckles against her chin as she read.

“Do they really have no idea that Lady Sakura has been abroad?” she wondered.

“That was written at least a couple months ago. Perhaps they have noticed by now. They must have at least one brain between all of them,” replied Sakura. She shifted in her seat, crossing and recrossing her legs.

Gaara looked up when the twins entered. Azra set a tray down on the table. It was heavy with sweets and a fresh pot of tea. Esma knelt beside Sakura with a basin filled with towels. Each one had been soaked with fragrant water and rolled into the shape of a different flower. Sakura took one, still speaking.

“How have preparations been going, to your knowledge?” she queried. She unfolded the damp towel and wiped her hands. As the servant moved around the table, each person took a towel. When she reached him, Gaara offered a smile.

“Thank you,” he said.

She lifted her chin to look into his eyes. She looked surprised. As if she had never heard such words before. But then her expression shifted back to the polite smile she always wore. She bowed before she moved on.

When Gaara turned his head, he found Sakura staring at the servant girl. On the windowsill behind her, Suigetsu was staring too. His hands folded together under his chin. When his gaze met Gaara’s, the mercenary smirked.

“Messages travel slowly. I wish I had more updates for you,” Kankuro sighed. He rubbed the back of his neck.

Sakura leaned back in her seat. “I can hardly hold you responsible for that,” she responded.

“The last response I received was when I wrote to Sasori to let him know that you were bringing back plenty of guests. He assured me that they would have a comfortable place to stay on the island,” he recalled. He leaned back on his palms with another sigh.

“Where? Lady Sakura was promised thousands,” asked Temari, examining her nails.

Kankuro ruffled both his hands through his hair. “Don’t ask that right now. My head will explode,” Kankuro groaned.

Temari and Sakura exchanged a look. “Don’t tease him. I don’t have a replacement for him if his head really does explode,” Sakura scolded. Temari laughed.

Sakura pulled her hair off her neck with a sigh. She heard a few murmured words. And then Esma was standing behind her, fanning with all the fury of a soldier charging into battle.

“Oh my, she tries so hard. It’s adorable,” Kankuro remarked, leaning toward the breeze. He blinked when Temari returned the letter to him. Folding it into thirds, he tucked it into his pocket.

“Prince Baki has promised you troops. You have yet to meet them. Aren’t you suspicious, Lady Sakura?” Temari inquired, crossing one leg over the other.

“It would be dishonorable for him to go back on his word. He would not suffer such shame. He will keep his word. I’m confident,” answered Sakura.

They enjoyed glasses of tea filled with ice and mint. They moved on to lighter topics- simple gossip, the weather. Kankuro brought up an old story of how he had once flirted with a woman without realizing she was married. The woman’s irate husband had chased them both through the market. They laughed as they recalled Kankuro’s terror.

As the time passed, the heat of the afternoon sun swelled and then eased. They decided that a walk around the palace would be the perfect way to pass the time before supper. Temari looked over at Kankuro, who had dozed off some time ago. As Temari took a step toward him to shake him awake, Sakura’s voice interrupted her.

“Let him rest. He must be exhausted.”

Rolling her eyes, Temari stepped away from him, moving toward the door instead.

Azra and Esma brought out a shawl. Despite the heat, Sakura draped it over her bare arms and shoulders. She reached back, searching. Gaara slipped his hand into hers. She pulled him forward to match her pace without looking at him.

The stone halls of the palace echoed with their footsteps. The northern wing of the palace was quiet. Visitors were not permitted to roam there without her permission. But once they reached the center of the palace, they could hear voices and music. There was always some kind of performer or visitor to keep the harem occupied.

They passed a tall woman wearing a glimmering gown. She spotted them. Sneered without greeting. And then moved on. She barked something to the servant girls behind her. The girls kept their eyes to the ground, shaking hands folded in front of them. One of them looked like she might be limping.

Sakura’s eyes narrowed.

She reached a hand out from under her shawl, beckoning. Azra and Esma moved toward her.

“That woman?” asked Sakura, keeping her voice low. The twins’ eyes moved toward the woman’s retreating back.

“That is Concubine Deba, General,” Azra replied in the same half-whisper. She flinched as Concubine Deba snapped at the servants. When one of the girls reached out, the concubine slapped her hands away, her voice growing even more shrill.

“Is that how she always is?” Sakura inquired.

“Always,” Esma confirmed. Sakura’s eyes fell on her. At the tight line her lips made.

“You once served her,” she guessed. Esma’s grimace was answer enough. Azra put her hand on her sister’s arm. She smiled.

“That’s why we’re so grateful to serve you now, General,” Azra added. Esma’s gaze flickered over to her. Then she pursed her lips, nodding as she looked down.

Sakura folded her arms across her chest. She glanced again at the direction the concubine had gone. Then back at the twins.

“Hm,” Sakura said. She looped her arm through Temari’s, pulling her along. They walked slowly.

“What’re you thinking, Lady Sakura?” asked Temari.

“Do you know why people follow a woman like that?” Sakura wondered.

Temari arched an eyebrow. She stole one last glance at the distant back of Concubine Deba. Then looked to Sakura. “Fear, it looks like,” she guessed.

“Do you think that works better than a sense of duty?” Sakura mused.

“I don’t like that look in your eyes, Lady Sakura. It makes me nervous,” Temari sighed, already shaking her head.

That made Sakura smile. Pointer finger on her cheek, she tilted her head to one side.

“I wonder. Should we try a little experiment?”

After supper, Sakura left her quarters alone. Temari looked ready to protest until she spotted Mangetsu waiting by the door. She fixed him with a hard look. The mercenary returned it. Slowly, she nodded at him before she sank back down in her seat.

Mangetsu followed Sakura out of her quarters. They met up with Suigetsu further down the corridor.

Suigetsu pulled his cowl down and coughed. “I’m sick of all this sand,” he muttered, rubbing his eyes. And then he turned his frown to Sakura. He coughed again before he spoke. “Also, I don’t get this. I thought you wanted to get to the consort- not this woman.”

Sakura ran her fingers through her hair. She adjusted her collar.

“It’s not about the concubine, Suigetsu. It’s about her servants,” she insisted.

Suigetsu stared at her.

She sighed, impatient. “Who oversees the day-to-day of any palace? Who has access to my food, clothing, and nearly everything else?” she listed. And then she paused, mouth puckering as she thought. “At home, the staff sees to my every need. In Whiteriver Keep… well… you’ve seen it.”

And then she smiled. "I want to see what happens if I can move the hearts of the servants. What would be the result?" she spelled out for him.

Suigetsu held her gaze for a long moment. He sighed.

“One of the girls just left the concubine’s room. Should be coming down that hall soon,” Suigetsu reported, jabbing his thumb in the right direction.

Sakura moved past him, her skirts gathered in one hand so she could move faster. The brothers hung back, watching her.

When Sakura reached the end of the hall, Suigetsu clicked his tongue against the back of his teeth. Mangetsu looked over. He watched Suigetsu dig his pinky nail into his ear. He flicked the bits of sand away, bouncing them across the polished marble floors.

“Looks like the lady’s learning something,” Suigetsu commented.

“Good?” Mangetsu wondered, his eyes drifting back to follow Sakura.

“Yeah. Good,” Suigetsu confirmed.

Mangetsu said nothing else. Just slapped his younger brother on the back a few times before he followed after her.

Sakura lingered just before the corner. She barely looked up when the mercenaries joined her. She didn’t need to warn them to stay silent. If anything, they were quieter than she was.

According to Suigetsu, this passageway led to the larger residences within Prince Baki’s harem. This was a service hallway used by the staff. These sorts of places were nice because people’s true characters often emerged when they believed no one was watching them.

“You think you’re better than us because you serve Concubine Deba now?”

There was a sharp slap. And then the sound of something bouncing onto the floor. A few voices laughed, shrill and cutting.

“Little whore thinks she’s tough,” one of them mocked.

And then there was a muffled yelp before another voice hissed: “You’re nothing. Learn your place.”

Sakura’s mouth set in a grim line. She had heard enough.

There were three servant girls gathered around a fourth girl. The fourth sat huddled on the ground, both hands covering her head. The three girls snickered as they shoved her with their feet. But when they looked up, they saw Sakura round the corner, the two mercenaries shadowing her steps.

Sakura pretended to take the scene in.

The three servant girls frozen mid-step. The one girl on the floor, hair disheveled. A basket overturned. Linens scattered.

“How unsightly,” Sakura remarked, hand on her cheek. She locked eyes with one of the girls as she added, “Is this how things are done in this palace?”

One of the girls, clearly the leader of the group, stepped forward.

“Are you lost, dear guest? This area is typically for…”

Sakura’s eyes narrowed. The servant girl’s voice faltered. Her words trailed off.

“I don’t recall asking for you to speak. What a foolish child,” Sakura scoffed. She lowered her hand. “I have an idea of what’s happening here. Clean this up,” Sakura then snapped.

The three girls exchanged nervous looks before they scrambled to gather the basket and dump the garments inside. They mumbled apologies to Sakura, bowing their heads. Sakura fixed them with a stare for a long moment before she jerked her chin, dismissing them. They hurried off. As soon as they turned the corner, their footsteps quickened, echoing off the stone walls and floors.

As Sakura turned her attention to the remaining girl, her expression softened.

“Are you alright?” asked Sakura. She held her hand out. The remaining servant girl lifted her head, about to reach out. She jolted when she met Sakura’s eyes. She swiped her sleeve across her face before she put on a smile.

“I beg pardon, Your Grace. How can I serve you?” she said. She sniffled. There was a scratch mark on her cheek.

“Well, before you serve anyone, can you stand?” Sakura asked. She moved her hand a little closer.

The girl stared at the offered hand. Her gaze flickered to the basket. Then to her ankle.

“Thank you,” she whispered before she slipped her hand into Sakura’s. She winced a little when Sakura helped her stand.

“I apologize for this scene, Your Grace. It truly is disgraceful for us to have shown an honored guest such a sight,” the girl then said, bowing. Her hands clenched into the fabric of her skirt.

Sakura studied the girl’s shaking hands. Then her eyes drifted up to her face.

“What is your name?” Sakura asked.

The girl peered up at her through flaxen hair.

“It’s Meno, Your Grace,” she replied.

“Meno,” Sakura repeated. The girl nodded.

“Why don’t you sit with me for a while, Meno?”

While it was worded like a suggestion, it wasn’t. The girl must have been smart enough to know that. She hesitated for just a moment. And then she bowed again.

Meno trailed behind Sakura as they made her way to the other wing of the palace. Meno cast nervous looks at Mangetsu, who walked near Sakura, and Suigetsu, who trailed behind them.

“Your hair is a unique color,” Sakura commented. She kept her eyes focused ahead. Meno started a little. She touched her golden hair, gathered her hands in front of her again.

“…Yes, Your Grace,” she replied.

“Are you foreign-born?” Sakura queried.

“No, Your Grace. My father was a traveler,” answered Meno.

“Oh, so you’re mixed,” Sakura guessed.

Meno hung her head.

Sakura sniffed. “With the number of foreign-born concubines Prince Baki has, I would assume that a little mixing would be more than welcome here,” Sakura observed. She glanced back at Meno. “Or is that a privilege reserved just for the nobility?”

Meno’s eyes widened.

Soon, they arrived at Sakura’s quarters. Servants pulled the doors open at their approach.

“Azra. Esma,” Sakura called as they walked inside.

The twins came running. Azra helped her unwrap her shawl. Ezra presented a pair of soft slippers. But both girls froze when they noticed Meno lingering in the doorway.

Sakura followed their gaze. She gave an absent-minded wave of her hand.

“Prepare some refreshments for my guest,” ordered Sakura.

There was a slight pause as the twins exchanged a look. And then they both answered: “Yes, General.”

Several minutes later, they sat in the parlor. Sakura crossed one knee over the other, arm draped over the back of the sofa. She nodded as the twins set a tray down on the low table. Steam curled up from the teapot.

“Oh, Your Grace, I couldn’t accept this,” Meno sputtered as she looked at the tea. Her hands curled into the fabric of her apron.

Sakura stared at the tea too. The corners of her mouth turned down. “Indeed. You couldn’t,” she agreed. Her stare flitted over to the two attendants.

“The day is hot. You serve tea on such a hot day without ice?” Sakura scolded. The twins hung their heads as they listened. But then Azra raised her head.

“Your Grace, ice is only reserved for guests of honor-” she protested.

“Which I am. And this girl is my guest,” Sakura interrupted. She released a sharp breath, pinching the bridge of her nose. And then she flapped a hand at them.

“Go. Remake it,” Sakura ordered.

Azra and Esma exchanged a wary look. They bowed.

“Yes, Your Grace,” Azra said before they hurried out the door.

As Sakura refocused her gaze on Meno, she found the girl staring right back at her. Folding her arms across her chest, Sakura raised her eyebrows.

“The harassment. Has it been going on for long?” inquired Sakura.

Meno’s hand rose to touch her swollen cheek.

“No, Your Grace. I must have tripped,” the girl insisted.

“What strange floors they have here. They rise up to strike the faces of pretty, young girls,” Sakura mused.

When Meno just stared at her, Sakura offered her a smile.

“I’ve been in a fight or two. You don’t need to lie to me,” she added.

Meno flushed.

By the time Azra and Esma returned with cool drinks, Meno was in tears as she divulged her life story. She sobbed into the handkerchief she pulled from her pocket as she recounted the bullying. There was a strict hierarchy among the staff. Those that served the higher ranking concubines were above the lesser ones. And the older servants could make life hell for the younger, weaker ones.

“But you serve a high-ranking woman. You can’t be so awful at your job?” wondered Sakura.

Meno shook her head. She dabbed her cheeks with the sopping handkerchief. Temari moved from the window. Kankuro held out his own handkerchief as she walked past. Temari grabbed it and sat beside the girl. She gave her the clean handkerchief and patted her on the back. Meno gave her a tremulous smile before fresh tears leaked out of her eyes.

“It matters little, Your Grace. They hate me so much, but I try so hard. I just don’t understand,” she sobbed, burying her face in her hands.

“This can’t be right,” Sakura sighed, hand on her cheek again. “Who is in charge of all the servants? There has to be some sort of administrator.”

At this, Meno hesitated. She looked to Sakura. Then her gaze drifted to the twin girls standing behind Sakura. Sakura turned in her seat to glance at them too. The girls bowed.

“Are you concerned that someone in this room will report you, Meno?” Sakura demanded, facing forward again.

Meno rubbed her eyes. She looked down at her knees.

Sakura’s eyes narrowed. She relaxed her arms.

“Rest assured, Meno, should anyone take issue with what you say here today… I will take responsibility,” she declared. And then she tossed another glance over her shoulder. “You have my word,” Sakura then added.

Meno sniffled. Temari patted her back again.

Twisting the handkerchief between her hands, Meno bit her lower lip. “Oh…. um…. well, Consort Hoki is, Your Grace,” she finally confessed.

Sakura touched her pointer finger to her cheek. Her thumb pressed against her chin. She tilted her head to one side as she thought.

“Unfortunately, I have yet to meet Consort Hoki myself. I wonder what her thoughts on this sort of working environment are,” she sighed. Her eyes darted up when she noticed Mangetsu cross his arms. He met her gaze, gave a slight nod. She pretended not to have seen it. Smiling, she turned her attention to Meno.

“No matter. I’m certain Consort Hoki has worries of her own,” she added.

Sakura took a deep breath before she declared: “I like you, Meno. Why don’t you come work for me?”

Meno’s eyes widened. Her hands tightened around the handkerchiefs.

“Truly, Your Grace? Can I?” she blurted out. Her face turned red as she realized what she had said. She sunk back in her seat, looking down at her feet.

Sakura’s expression warmed. “You seem like you have a good head on your shoulders. I shall speak with Prince Baki about adding you to my service,” Sakura replied. When she glanced back, Azra and Esma’s faces revealed nothing. Sakura gestured to the twins. “I’ve been working poor Azra and Esma to the bone lately. I’m certain it will be a relief to them as well.”

They finished their tea, Meno still sniffling. Sakura asked her a few more questions about her life, which Meno was more than happy to answer. By the time their cups and plates were empty, Meno’s face was swollen, but significantly more cheerful. Azra and Esma collected the tableware and left the room.

As she got to her feet, Meno bowed and thanked Sakura over and over again.

“Make sure Meno returns to her quarters safely. And pass this message along to the Prince,” Sakura instructed, pressing a note into Mangetsu’s hand. He nodded. Mangetsu then held the door open for Meno.

Sakura waved at the girl, smiling as she watched her go. But as soon as Meno turned the corner, Sakura lowered her hand. She glanced over her shoulder.

“Are you sure about this?” she whispered.

Suigetsu braced his forearm on the doorway. He craned his neck to peer past her before he spoke.

“The twins reacted when you talked about Consort Hoki. They’re likely her spies,” he replied, keeping his voice just as low. And then he stared at Sakura. “But you already knew that. I don’t know why you’re asking me.”

Sakura raised her eyebrows. “I suspected. That’s different,” she corrected.

“So why bring that girl? It’ll raise more suspicion to replace them, M’Lady,” warned Suigetsu. He peered up and down the hall again. His gaze fell to Sakura again when he felt her grab the sleeve of his shirt.

She smiled. “My Aunt has always loved chess. And she taught me to love it too. But don’t you think it’s more fun when the pieces are alive?” she murmured before she released his sleeve. She stepped back into her quarters. Suigetsu stared after her. And then he broke into a grin.

“I knew it would be fun to stick with you, M’Lady,” he chuckled as he followed after her.

Later that evening, Sakura lay on her back.

Everyone else had gone to bed. Temari was in the room next to her’s. Gaara and Kankuro shared another one further down the hall. Gaara still had nightmares, and Kankuro liked to be there just in case.

Suigetsu had gone to bed too. Mangetsu would wake him halfway through the night to switch shifts. But for now, he prowled around the wing. There were guards on duty, but neither of the brothers trusted them. Every once in a while, his shadow slid under the door as he walked past. At first, his movements had jolted her awake. She wasn’t used to someone keeping such close watch. But after a few months, she was starting to find their presence comforting. Sometimes she even slept through the entire night undisturbed.

But this night, Sakura wasn’t sleeping. Instead, she was staring up at the ceiling. There were thousands of stars painted in gold, mimicking the patterns of the heavens outside.

With what almost felt like a stab of guilt, she suddenly recalled a face. Not as if she had ever forgotten him. But he drifted to the front of her mind.

The plan had been to make a connection with Sasuke. The Mountain Kingdom was a powerful ally to have. With the political instability that had weakened the Forest Kingdom, its neighbors seemed unsure of how to approach them. In times of crises, it was important to know how other countries would react. Would they stand back and watch? Would they seize a moment of weakness to attack?

She had made it her mission to ingratiate herself with Sasuke. It had been easier than expected. Because under that pomposity, which was all a facade anyway, he was rather intelligent and even funny.

Prince Itachi of the Mountain Kingdom was an unexpected boon.

She saw his wrist. The beautiful jut of his bone. The shape of his fingers as they curled around the doorknob. She liked watching those hands. Elegant in their own way. They were smooth and soft, unlike hers. And she knew because she could remember the way it felt against hers as they sat in the shade of a pergola.

Sakura closed her eyes.

Her whole life, she had learned to calculate each relationship. What did they have to offer? What would they ask for in return?

Even her friendships were all weighed this way. Ino, one of her oldest friends, had gone through this evaluation as well. And Sakura was confident that Ino had done the same to her. That didn’t change the fact that she liked Ino- preferred her company to that of most people she knew.

Ally. Eyes and ears. Bargaining chip. Scapegoat.

They all stacked so neatly. Like pieces she could line up on her game board.

But what was Prince Itachi of the Mountain Kingdom?

A prince with no support from his subjects. One whose own stepmother crippled with poison. Whose father remained either oblivious or uncaring. She already had the support of his brother, who had the best bid for the throne.

What purpose did he serve then?

“You look anxious. Are you alright?”

What did he have to offer?

“I wish I knew how to help.”

What would he ask for in return?

“You’ve always looked like a giant to me.”

She thought of Consort Hoki. Today’s events had made it clear to Sakura that she was a consort in name. But she had little influence over the workings of the harem. From a good family. But rendered powerless because not all the right pieces had fallen into place.

She dreaded falling victim to a similar fate. It was more important now than ever that she surround herself with people of worth. Those that would move when she could not. Those that she could rely on to redirect blame should things go wrong.

As all these questions swirled together in her head, she remembered the short letter he had sent months ago. Black ink. Perfect penmanship.

I miss you terribly today. All is well. And yet nothing is well without you here.

The following morning, Sakura set her teacup down.

She graced her companion with a smile.

“Prince Baki, thank you for making the time to see me,” Sakura greeted him.

++++

< Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20 >

#amaryllis #fanfiction #itasaku #courtly intrigue! au

36 notes · View notes

everosfics · 4 years ago

Text

At last I can breath

Warning: several bad words

A/N : so this took forever🙂 Sory about that. You ever have it all written but there’s this chunk you know you need but don’t know how to put it there well that was like two parts of this chapter, so enjoy what I have come up with. See you next chapter.

Ch.2 A year of transition

Lila POV

“Finally that bitch is done, won’t even look at me, sure I lost a few battles like when I lost Agrest but no mater there’s bigger and better out there. So What, one person won’t make my tower crumble and a small crack is just a minor distraction.

So long as Dupain-Cheng only has her little blondes to back her up it’ll be fine.”

Mari POV

It’s been about a year now since Lila’s return and while she has been a pan in my side and a huge agitator, I really don’t think she has been the hardest part of my life. God just saying that makes me feel horribly stressed, like oh yeah it’s junior year college scouts, senior class study abroad program planing, Akuma fights, all on top of a pathological Liar who has it out for me. Oh well I’m so fucking tired right now it’s been such an emotional year from the struggle to get use to Lila, to realizing that there’s only a few people out there that I can really trust. Thank god for Chlo without her I don’t think I would have made it through all that’s happened this year.

“Hey Mari were all going to go work on the ideas for the fundraiser are you coming.”

“Yeah I’m coming, can’t wait to see what each class is thinking about doing.”

***

Last year in the bathroom

“ Dupain-Cheng what the fucking hell was that. Who the hell does she think she is. I swear this is ridiculous.”

“Chloe what do you want.”

“From you nothing , from that sleaze ball an explanation on who the hell she thinks she is it’s not like you have done anything to her other than question her story.”

“I’m fine Chloe there’s nothing you can do, and why are you trying to help me anyway”

“Ugh. Dupa-, Marinette I may not show it but I am extremely thankful to everything that you have done for me, my family, and my reputation here at school. You have helped me in so many small ways and actually seeing what I was like, is a punch to the stomach. So I’m sorry and I hope I can make it up to you some way.”

“Huh huh huh *gasp* Chloe, I got here as fast as I could Mrs Bustier didn’t want to let me out with so many students already out of class.” *record scratch* sees Mari on floor. “What’s going on in here?”

“Sabrina listen to me I need you to understand this, Lila is threatening anyone who is standing against her so I need you to go back to class act like you didn’t see us and hang on every word Lila says. Ok. I’ll tell you the rest later tonight when we get back to the hotel, just know that as of right now you’re a spy and I-we need you to get close to Lila.”

“Okay. It will be alright Marinette. See you tonight Chlo.”

***

“Chloe I’m worried about Adrien, have you seen him recently?”

“No I haven’t, not outside of school and even then he’s all gloomy with that leach hanging off of him.

“Hey Marinette can I talk to you?”

“Sure Kagami what is it?”

“Well I kinda wanted to do it in private it’s about Adrien.”

“Kagami whatever you have to say about him is fine to say in front of Chlo she’s worried to.”

“Ok, well you know how we have practice after school every other day”

“Yeah?”

“Well last week and again on Monday I saw him with bruises and nail marks across his body, the bruise I get sometimes in practice we can get hit to hard but there were so many I think something is happening at home, and the nail marks I know I don’t see him in class but how is it going with that Rossi problem.”

“She still clings on him but based on what you’re saying I think he probably has been pulling away and she is holding on tighter.”

“Mari, Tuskugi I’ll need your help but I think we need to inform Mr. Agrest or at least Natalie of what we believe to be happening.”

“Your right Chlo but I don’t know how we’re going to get a chance with how close Lila has gotten with Mr. Agrest and his brand.”

“If I may, my mother has been discussing my need for understanding the context of when it is appropriate to lash out and I believe we have yet to focus on abuse in all forms along with what bullying is.”

“Go on Tuskugi?”

“I believe that if my mother was to approach the school with an interest towards seminars in these subjects we could go around both Lila and interference from the elder Agrest”

———

“In the recommendation of several of our families it is a pleasure to present to you our assembly on bullying and abuse.”

(After assembly)

“Nice Tuskugi you did it”

“Chloe it’s Kagami you can use my name. Any way I’m going to be here for good mother is allowing me to continue in this school so long as I keep up with my practices.”

“Well, Kagami, it’s good to have you on board even if you won’t be in class with us.”

(Some where else in the building)

“Hey Lila, I think that you need to start giving me some space from now on,”

“Bu-bu-but why?”

“Well my father saw the nail marks you are leaving and has requested that we spend time apart so that my arm may heal”

***

In Marinette’s room

“Mari I feel funny”

“Chloe I’m working if you aren’t dying can you bother me later”

“But Dupain, Sabrina’s undercover and no one else will listen.”

“Huff, Ok what is it Chloe”

“Well it’s not horrible but eveytime were around kitty section I feel funny, but it’s only when everyone is together I feel nothing when we’re in class and everyone is there.

“Maybe your just mad because no one is really doing anything inside class so when we’re out of it your mad.”

“Marinette that’s not it and you know it, braced on the facts Chlo only feels nervous”

“I’m not nervous”

“When it’s the entirety of kitty section which means her reaction is caused by Luka.”

“Ooooh Chloe has a crush!”

“DO NOT”

“Yes you do”

“Yes, Chloe it is most probable you have a crush on Luka similar to back when I was discovering what it was like to similarly enjoy the presence of another”

“Oh shut up” Chloe said as she launched a pillow right at Kagami who ducked it making it hit Mari, unleashing a pillow fight that would lead to the girls having a pillow fight until both Chloe and Kagami where picked up by there rides.

***

“Bug!!!!” “M’lady” “Tentōmushi.”

It’s all I can hear as I gasp from the puncture that I now have right through my lung. All I can see are rushing shapes as Luka tries to get to his bracelet and the suddenly I can breathe again, I see Luka make a call and all of a sudden bee is there with her stinger at the ready, my heart is still racing but I don’t know why. I start running towards the akuma but Chlo”s already there with her venom out and monster frozen then I’m running as fast as I can to chat because he has the akumatized item and then that’s it the swarm is released and it’s like I know what’s happening.

“I’m running out of time, everyone go home and recharge we need to talk I’ll meet you on top of the tower in 30 minutes”

———

“Bug why are we here?”

“Well it’s been about six months since the forced reveal and public change of users. I feel as though we now need to confirm our identity with each other since before that time each of you had been serving for over a year.”

“But why now?”

“Why?! Because I almost died today we almost lost and I can’t tell anyone unless I’m in this suit. We need support and no one else can give it to us so we need to build our on support team inside and out of being suppers. So I will be going home to a safe space and any of you who are ready to know who I am and share your secret with the others can follow me. I will never hold this moment against you and I will leave my location visible if you need to take your time.”

“Chat are you coming?”

“Wherever you need me.”

———

“So now that we all know what does that mean. Where do we go now?”

“We go no where, we trust and have each other’s backs.”

“Well I personally don’t know why we did this Mari you knew who all of us were and I knew who all of you were, I even put together who Rena, and carapace were.

“Wait how did Chloe know before me M’Lady”

“Well, actually I don’t know?! Chloe how did you know”

“Well big we all know how you are and I sort of put your personality together from that and then no one in Paris is as sunshiny as Adrikins here,”

“humf”

“Don’t humf me you know it’s true. And after that well me and Luk’s started talking and there was something so calming about him and how he took care of everyone. Then of course I noticed how there was really only one more of us left, two if we count Sabrina but Gami was the only one that makes since because well look at her she’s vicious and loyal and most importantly is the only other one of us that has dark hair.”

“Well that’s fair.”

“Wait I still don’t get how you confirmed it?”

“Oh I gave pollen free will she can do whatever she wants whenever and the only downside is that I have to ask her if we can join battle.”

“WHAT!!!!!”

“What do you mean what? Of course she has free will why would I ever keep her like a servant.”

In a meek voice “I’m the guardian and even I didn’t know that they didn’t have free will, Tiki I'm so sorry I didn’t know. As guardian you now have free will Tiki. Adrian go get the Miracle box we have to free them all and no one but Tiki stayed out.”

“Kwamis’ as your guardian I wished I had known that you had no free will and as your guardian I am granting you that freedom but I wish to still have a connection with each of you, as you will work on your own in your own way I hope to keep your miraculous with me and your users so that if need arises we must only tap on them to call to you and inform you of your need, never to merge without your express permission but to work as partners not masters. Do you accept these terms?”

“YES”

“As guardian, on these terms all Kwamis’ under my care are free to do as they wish and will always have a home with each other and a family in there new found partners.

***

(Present)

“ Mari were here we’re going second pay attention Aurore just came up with an auction as a fundraiser.”

“That should work great well just need to do a bit more around the gaining items and how much of the revenue we will get to keep. Now after our pitch we will probably need at least six more ideas and committees to execute them, overall we need eight to even think about doing the trip for the whole senior class even if we get a sponsor other than whatever school we enter for those 6 weeks.”

“Bug your always thinking a head, just focus on now and we’ll deal with the rest after we come up with the finalized schedule for the bigger events.”

Tag list : @thezestywalru

#maridami #dc x mlb #chloe redemption #maribat #chapter 2

13 notes · View notes

roywangtoday · 5 years ago

Text

王源：成为那道光

Wang Yuan: Be the Light

2018年岁末，王源经历了刚成年后的第一个冬天，在新发表的专栏文章里，他开启了对人生命题的总结和思索，记录了自己身处喧嚣时被诗人费尔南多·佩索阿的作品集《我的心略大于整个宇宙》击中心灵的瞬间。然后，他在文中写道：“满天繁星，有我想成为的那道光。”

At the end of 2018, Wang Yuan experienced the first winter of his adult life. In the newly published column, he had a summary and reflection on questions of life, and described the moment when he was hit by “A Littler Larger Than the Entire Universe”, poems written by Fernando Pessoa, in the hustle and bustle. He wrote: “The sky is full of stars, and there is a light I want to be.”

人的一生是悬于两道永恒黑暗间的一隙微光，唯当人内生的自我开始觉醒时，这道光芒才会璀璨闪现，在即逝的瞬间穿透黑夜，为更多双眼所看到。王源找到了那道应属于自己的光，而接下来，他要成为那道光。

A person's life is a gleam of light between two eternal darkness. Only when his inner self begins an awakening will this light flash brightly, penetrate the night at an ephemeral moment, and be seen by more eyes. Wang Yuan has found the light that belongs to him, and then he wants to be the light.

坐在采访桌前，王源轻轻呼了口气，已经是晚上11点，杂志封面的拍摄刚刚结束，他还需要完成专访。白天是他的个人纪录短片《没有哪个夏天像今年一样》的线下分享会，算起来，他已经连续工作了十几个小时。

Sitting in front of the interviewer, Wang Yuan exhaled softly. It was already 11:00 pm. The shooting for the magazine cover had just finished and he still needed to do an interview. He had a press conference for his personal documentary short film “No Summer Is Like This One” during the day. In total, he had been continuously working for more than fourteen hours.

“我得想想怎么说。”垂下眼，盯着自己交握在桌上的双手，王源停顿了下来。采访者提出的问题在过去大半年里，已经不止一次出现在他面前，记者们总是反复问他：是否意识到去异国学习音乐这一决定背后潜藏的风险和损失？他们总像是不能轻易接受他面上表现出来的坦然。

"I have to think about how to say it." Wang Yuan paused, staring down at his hands on the table. The questions raised by the interviewer have appeared in front of him more than once in the past six months, and journalists repeatedly asked him: are you aware of the risks and losses behind the decision to study music abroad? They always seemed unable to accept the calmness shown on his face easily.

这次得换种说法，王源抽出手比划起来：“打个比方，今天在您面前摆了一个最新款的包，买吗？”

This time, he had to put it another way, Wang Yuan took out his hand: "For example, today there’s a latest designer handbag in front of you, will you buy it?"

对方愣住了。

The interviewer froze.

“买不买？”王源继续追问道。

“Will you buy it or not?” Wang Yuan continued to ask.

“买吧。”

“Yes, I will."

“好，买！它有啥用？有性价比吗？没有，喜欢就完事了。”

"Okay, you will! What's it for? Is it cost-effective? No, just because you like it."

“前提还得要有钱……”回过神的采访者逗起他来。

“First of all, if I had a lot of money..." The interviewer collected herself and started to tease him.

“不是，那您都说买了。”王源有点着急，身体前倾抢过话头，但言语依旧礼貌。他拊掌强调着：“喜欢就完事了，喜欢就完事了，对不对？”

“But you said you would buy it." Wang Yuan got a little bit nervous. He leant forward and interrupted her, still in a polite way. He clapped his hands and emphasized: “It’s because you like it and that matters, right?”

话音刚落，身边的工作人员都为这孩子气的举动笑了起来，王源面上透出些不好意思，抓抓后脑勺补充道：“有些决定就是脑子一热，喜欢，而且我现在年纪其实也小，��有机会去试错，但如果现在错过了喜欢的事情，其实是会后悔的，我挺怕自己后悔。”

As soon as he finished his words, the staff around him all laughed at the boyish behavior. Wang Yuan seemed a little embarrassed, he scratched his head and added: “I made some decisions impulsively, just because I like it, and I’m still young, so there is a chance of trial and error. But if I miss the thing I like now, I will regret. I don’t want to have any regrets.”

双手叠放回桌面，王源又恢复了乖巧标准的坐姿，他套着件白色的粗棒针毛衣，肩头瘦削，还带着少年人的脆弱美感，但微抬的脸上，轮廓线条已经立体起来，下颌转折处也有了凛冽的角度——这是19岁的王源，一个能与自己对话，并始终坚持自我选择的成年人。

Putting his hands back on the table, Wang Yuan returned to a proper and standard sitting position. He wore a white thick needle sweater, and the top of his shoulder looked slim, fragilely beautiful. However, he has a defined facial profile and a sharp jawline — this is 19-year-old Wang Yuan, an adult who knows himself and sticks to his decisions.

大一新生王源

Freshman Wang Yuan

“大家好，我叫王源，来自中国，见到你们很高兴。”

——王源／2019年9月／美国波士顿伯克利音乐学院"

Hello everyone, my name is Wang Yuan and I’m from China. Nice to meet you."

——Wang Yuan / September 2019 / Berklee College of Music, Boston, USA

2020农历新年过后，王源恢复到了“学校——公寓”两点一线的异国求学生活。他曾突发奇想把自己的生活划分成旧磁带的两面，A面是规律的学校生活，B面则代表着忙碌的工作。回到学校，身体就按下了跳转A面的播放键，开始了“吹不出褶”的平静日子。

After the Chinese New Year 2020, Wang Yuan got back into his life as an international student commuting between his apartment and school everyday. He once had an imagination to depict his life as two sides of an old tape, side A is regular school life, and side B represents busy work. Back at school, the body pressed the play button to jump to the A side, and peaceful days “without waves” began.

娱乐圈的喧嚣��失了，没有跑不见头的通告，也没了簇拥在左右的鲜花掌声和火热的眼神。在这里，王源能把头发简单地推成板寸，不需要每天出门前花费许久收拾造型，也不用时时戴着口罩。他能够自由地去逛超市，甚至大大方方地扛着一袋大米游荡街头。

The hustle and bustle of the entertainment industry disappeared. There were no endless schedules, no applause and flowers around, and no one was watching. Here, Wang Yuan can simply have a crew cut, instead of spending time on styling before going out every day, and he doesn’t have to wear a mask all the time. He is free to go to the supermarket and even walk in the street with a bag of rice on his shoulder.

“除了华人之外，国外的人其实不知道我是谁，我也不会告诉他们。”大一新生王源褪去了自己身上环绕许久的明星光环，快速融入了简单的求学生活。他和那些来自世界各地的同届学生一样，为了完成老师布置的作业头疼，还得提前很多天为排练作业订排练室，要不“就抢不到了”。新结识的外国朋友们也不曾发觉这个中国少年有何特别之处，除了一开始总会好奇地问他为什么总穿名牌。

"Except the Chinese, foreigners don't really know who I am, and I won't tell them." Freshman Wang Yuan took off his halo as a celebrity and quickly adapted to college life. Like other students from all over the world, he had to handle the coursework assigned by teachers and reserved the resemble room in advance for his rehearsal, or “they will be fully occupied”. New foreign friends have never noticed anything special about this Chinese boy, except that they asked him curiously in the beginning why he always wore expensive designer brands.

“他们老说我。”聊到这个，王源又有些不好意思：“我这几年没怎么买过衣服，带去美国的大部分都是品牌送的，上面都有logo。”

"They kept talking about that." Wang Yuan was a little embarrassed about it: "I haven't bought much clothes in the past few years. Most of those I brought to the United States were gifts from brands, with logos on them.”

被身边同学反复问过几次后，王源趁着波士顿大降温的机会，私下买了些寻常服装，替换掉了那些扎眼的名牌，不过他最后还是没将脚上的品牌球鞋换下来。“我从初中就开始收集这个牌子的鞋了，因为我喜欢，我还是照穿。”

After being asked several times by classmates, Wang Yuan bought some ordinary clothes in private to replace those fancy designer brands while the temperature dropped significantly in Boston. But he eventually kept his branded shoes. “I’ve been collecting shoes of this brand since junior high school, because I like them, I still wear them.”

“喜欢”，能为王源的很多决定作出最准确的注解，也是他选择在国内星途事业亟待更进一步的关键时刻，转而来到伯克利求学的源动力之一。但他新选择的道路又注定是不平坦的，一个曾替多位华语乐坛代表人物制作专辑的音乐制作人坦诚表示：“现在音乐是整个娱乐行业里最低的一个领域，艺人赚钱最少的就是做音乐。”

“I like it" can make the most accurate explanation for his many decisions. This is also one of the driving forces for him to study at Berklee at such a critical moment in his career. However, the path he chooses is destined to be uneven. A music producer who has made albums for many top Chinese musicians candidly admitted: "Now music is the underclass in the entire entertainment industry, and artists earn the least money by making music.”

高王源几级的伯克利音乐学院毕业生曲扬也同意这样的观点：“在国内，大家默认的华语音乐比较好的时段已经过去了。”曲扬先后就读于上海音乐学院和伯克利音乐学院，在他进入上音的第一堂课，老师就在讲台上向学生提问——“有多少人是想通过音乐赚大钱的？如果有人是这样想的，建议赶快改行。”

Qu Yang, a graduate from the Berklee College of Music, who is senior to Wang Yuan, agrees with that view: "We believe that the best era of Chinese music has gone.” Qu Yang once studied at the Shanghai Conservatory of Music and the Berklee College of Music. During his first lecture at the SCM, the teacher asked students: “How many of you want to make a lot of money from music? If anyone thinks so, I suggest you change your career as soon as possible.”

早在王源还未出生时，世界音乐唱片行业就已经被盗版和流媒体播放器的浪潮冲毁，而他还未长成的童年时期，属于华语音乐的黄金时代也飞速落幕。那条通过音乐抵达人生更高舞台的道路，已经变得格外狭窄，王源清醒地知道自己的选择中存在足够多的不确定性，采访中他用三个“不知道”回答了关于未来更高成就的设想，但他同样清楚，选择一条更为艰难的道路，于他而言具有更多的必然性。

Long before Wang Yuan was born, the world's music record industry was already destroyed by a tidal wave of piracy and streaming media players. And in his childhood, the golden age of Chinese music came to an end. The road to the higher stage of life through music has become extremely narrow. Wang Yuan clearly knew that his choice came with uncertainty. In the interview, he said “I don’t know” three times to answer the question about his vision for future achievements. And he’s also aware that choosing a difficult path means more inevitabilities for him.

2019年9月3日，在飞往美国波士顿的航班起飞前，王源在微博上发布了新的消息：“去一个陌生的地方学习音乐，就是为了在未来能够把自己变得很好，带回更好的我。”少年成名的偶像早就明白，自己不仅代表作为单一个体的王源，时至今日，被太多人关注和推崇的他，身后亦有不少年轻一代紧紧追随。前行的力量得源于此，他需要变得更强大完美，才能更好地回馈身后的千万支持者。

On September 3, 2019, before the flight to Boston took off, Wang Yuan posted a Weibo: "Going to an unfamiliar place to learn music is to make myself good enough in the future and to bring back a better me.” He became famous while young and had long understood that he not only represents Wang Yuan as a single individual. Today he’s been followed and admired by so many people, including the younger generation. The strength to move forward comes from this, and he needs to be stronger and more perfect to give back to the millions of supporters behind him.

偶像王源

Idol Wang Yuan

“大家看舞台上亮吗？但我看你们很黑。”

——王源／2019年4月／《我是唱作人》对战赛

“Do you think it’s bright on the stage? But when I look at you, it’s actually very dark."

— Wang Yuan / April 2019 / The competition show “I Am A Singer-Songwriter”

作为千禧年代最具代表性的青少年偶像之一，王源身上有着诸多奇迹，他现在在微博上拥有7883万粉丝，单条微博创下过转发超4.7亿的记录。这群数量庞大的粉丝，还有着惊人的购买力：2016年5月，王源登上一线时尚杂志封面，杂志48秒售出71319册，打破了彼时圈内记录。这个记录在一年后又被他自己打破：2017年王源拍摄封面的杂志当期线上预售8秒16万册售罄，付款金额高达480万元。

As one of the most iconic millennial teen idols, many miracles happened to Wang Yuan. Now he has 78.83 million followers on Weibo, and a post from him has set record for more than 470 million reposts. This large number of fans also has amazing purchasing power: In May 2016, Wang Yuan made an appearance on a top fashion magazine. In 48 seconds, the magazine sold 71,319 copies, breaking the best selling record of that time. One year later, this record was broken again: in 2017, a magazine with cover of Wang Yuan was pre-sold online, 160,000 copies were sold out in 8 seconds and total sales amounted to 4.8 million yuan.

王源的影响力更在持续向多元圈层辐射。2017年，他被《时代》周刊评选为2017年30位全球最具影响力青少年之一；2018年11月，刚满18岁的王源又出任联合国儿童基金会大使，并于次年11月在联合国大会上发表中文演讲，呼吁关注儿童受教育权利。

Wang Yuan continues to radiate influence on multiple circles. In 2017, he was named one of TIME’s 30 most influential teens of 2017; in January 2018, Wang Yuan, who had just turned 18, became the UNICEF ambassador, and spoke at a high-level meeting held by UN General Assembly in November 2019, calling for children’s right to education.

与王源合作制作英文单曲《The Wrong Things》的北美音乐人Justin Gray曾在微博上发布了自己与王源合作的视频，播放量很快就超过了100万。“It's crazy.”看到数据的Justin Gray感叹道。

Justin Gray, a Canadian musician who worked with Wang Yuan on his English single "The Wrong Things", once posted a video about their collaboration on Weibo, which soon surpassed 1 million views. "It's crazy." Justin Gray was surprised when he saw it.

去美国念书后，国内的通告大量减少，但王源依旧被动地活跃在公众视野中心——近期他曾心血来潮在波士顿的公寓里下了两次厨，煎了一回牛排，还用火锅底料煮了“不一样的面”。他把这些发在了社交平台上，话题“王源煎牛排”“王源用火锅底料煮泡面”很快登上了微博热搜。而他在出国读书后参加的首档综艺里，因为小秀了一把厨艺，为其余嘉宾做了重庆小面，节目播出当晚，“王源温柔”的话题就成了粉丝热议的焦点。

After he went to US for study, the domestic schedules were significantly reduced, but Wang Yuan is still in the public eye passively — he recently cooked twice in his apartment in Boston, once for steak and once for noodles with hot pot broth. He posted these on social media, instantly the topics “Wang Yuan Cooked Steak” and “Wang Yuan Boiled Noodles With Hot Pot Broth” started trending on Weibo. In the first variety show he joined after studying abroad, he made Chongqing noodles for other guests, and “Wang Yuan Kind” became a hot topic for his fans on the night the show aired.

这种细致又过度的关注从七年前王源出道时，就如影随形。13岁的少年一路走来，为万人追捧的光环下，埋藏着各种各样的争论和质疑。这种分裂的现实持续打磨着这个少年偶像，让他飞速成熟，也让他变得足够细腻敏感。

People has been paying meticulous and excessive attention to him since seven years ago Wang Yuan debuted. The 13-year-old boy walked all the way to here, behind his popularity there are all kinds of arguments and doubts. The divisive reality constantly polishes this young idol, which makes him become mature faster than others, and be considerate and sensitive enough.

“害怕有一丁点不完美的事发生，害怕内心的成年跟不上身体的成年，害怕无法实现昨天预设下的明天。”在被视为内心“自留地”的《王源说》专栏里，王源这样描述成长给予他的焦虑，他把自我审视列为每日任务清单上的常见栏目，时时冷眼回视着这个跌跌撞撞向前走的自己。

“I was worried that things couldn’t go perfectly and my mental couldn’t keep up with my body. Also I was afraid of failing to achieve goals I set for tomorrow.” In the magazine column “Roy Says”, which is seen as a secret base for him, Wang Yuan described the anxiety of growing up. He puts self-examination on his daily to do list, and frequently looks back at himself, one stumbles forward.

2019年，参加华语唱作人挑战类节目《我是唱作人》时，王源在舞台上落了泪，当时他正在演唱自己作词作曲的歌曲《世界上没有真正的感同身受》。他的歌词写道：“面对其实只有一个人，一个人在夜里哭着，哭到头疼直到睡着，没有人能真的理解你啊，觉得虚伪你逢场作戏，我一直都会记得一句话，强大到无往不利……”唱到高潮处，站立在聚光灯最盛的舞台中心，抱着电吉他的王源红了眼眶。

In 2019, during a Chinese competition show “I AM A SINGER-SONGWRITER”, Wang Yuan shed tears on the stage when he was singing “Impossible Empathy”, a song written by himself. He said in the lyrics: “I face situations all alone. I cried alone at night with a headache till I fell asleep. No one can really understand you, people think you’re a hypocrite. There’s one word I always remember, be strong to conquer it all…” Wang Yuan teared up when he hold an electric guitar and stood in the center of the stage, singing the chorus.

开唱之前，他曾问台下的观众：“大家看舞台上亮吗？”

Before singing, he asked the audience: “Do you think it’s bright on the stage?”

“亮！”观众高喊着回答。

"Yes!" The audience answered in a loud voice.

“但我看你们，其实很黑。”攥紧话筒，这个穿着白衬衣的少年人慢慢说道。

"But I look at you, it's actually very dark." Holding the microphone, the young man in a white shirt said slowly.

同年，在一档访谈节目中，王源坦然把自己的成功归结为“十四亿分之三”的运气，他没有表现出“顶流”的骄傲，也不曾抱怨这难得的运气背后隐藏的其他一些东西，而是平静地一道接受了它们。

In a talk show of the same year, Wang Yuan frankly attributed his success to luck, “three out of 1.4 billion”. He didn’t behave arrogantly as a “top artist”, nor complained about anything behind his good luck, but accepted reality calmly.

“你不可能永远幸运，有一次幸运你就得把握好它”。镜头前，王源穿着深色西装，领带系得标准，眼神愈发沉静硬朗。

“You can’t be lucky forever. Once you have the opportunity, you have to seize it.” In front of the camera, Wang Yuan wore a black suit with a proper tie, and his eyes showed firmness.

成人王源

Wang Yuan as an adult

“长大也必然伴随着焦虑与敏感，唯一的解决之道，就是站起来、走出去，去做自己该做的、喜欢的、能做的事。”

——王源／2019年1月／专栏《王源说》之《长大这件小事》

“Growing up is always accompanied by anxiety and sensitivity, and the only solution is to stand up, to walk out, to do what you need to do, what you like to do, and what you can do.”

— Wang Yuan / January 2019 / Magazine Column “Roy Says”: The Little Thing Called Growing Up

曾有评论者将王源比作流量文化下为粉丝所“驯养”的那朵玫瑰——是大众虚拟希望和现实客体的结合，是玻璃橱窗里包装精美的脆弱花朵。

Some people once described Wang Yuan as a rose “domesticated” by fans in the context of current celebrity culture — he is a combination of people’s virtual hope and the realistic object, a delicate and attractive flower in the display window.

但七年的时间过去，王源的选择和行动正持续打破着这个定义的边界，他证明了自己确有为人叹服的美丽，但美丽的“玫瑰��却韧不可摧，也积蓄了独自抵御风雪的力量。这种独立生长的意愿在更早的时候就显现了出来。

However, after seven years since his debut, Wang Yuan's choices and actions repeatedly broke the boundaries of this definition. He has proved his charm, a beautiful but indestructible “rose” with strength to withstand the storm alone. And his desire to grow independently emerged even earlier.

2019年上映的王小帅导演作品《地久天长》里，王源饰演一个顶着死去孩子“刘星”的名字生活、最终选择拿回自己的名字去流浪的少年。片中，王源提供了最为本色的演出，他觉得这个角色就根植在自己的身体里。“我们是自我意识很强的一代人。”电影在柏林电影节上展映后，他这样评价道。

In a 2019 film “So Long, My Son” directed by Wang Xiaoshuai, Wang Yuan played a teenager who lived with the name of a dead child “Liu Xing” and eventually chose to take back his real name and leave home. Wang Yuan gave the most authentic performance in this film and he felt that this character took root in his body. “We are a generation with a strong sense of self awareness” He commented after the film premiered at the Berlin International Film Festival.

进入19岁的这一年，强烈的自我感知在王源身上更加鲜明地袒露出来。入学伯克利之前，王源发行了第一张真正意义上的个人专辑《源》，并在南京举办了首次个人演唱会。在那档他不顾团队建议、执意要参加的音乐节目中，他表现得格外具有“进攻性”。最开始的试听DEMO环节，当其他选手还在迟疑，他就第一个冲进了试音间。

The year he turned 19, the self-awareness of Wang Yuan was revealed more clearly. Before he went to Berklee, Wang Yuan released his first official album “YUAN” and held his first solo concert in Nanjing. He was surprising “aggressive” in the competition show which he insisted to attend despite objections from his team. At the demo session, he was the first to go into the audition studio when others hesitated.

一个多月里，被质疑没有作品的王源，接连拿出了《随想》《吆不到台》《世界上没有真正的感同身受》等五首原创曲目，而每次挑战赛他对战的选手，都是比他资深许多的乐坛老将。

During the six weeks, facing disapproval of his previous work, Wang Yuan continuously wrote five original song, including “Random Thoughts”, “Yao Bu Dao Tai” and “Impossible Empathy”. Every opponent he chose was much more experienced in the music industry.

“成年猛虎！”哪怕充满了紧张和不安，这个满脸胶原蛋白的年轻人也只是张开双臂，对着镜头晃��拳头给自己短暂鼓劲儿后，就转身跑进了赛场。

“Adult tiger!” Although he felt stressed, this young man opened his arms and shook his fists in front of the camera to cheer himself up, then ran onto the stage.

“这一年，我觉得是成长最快的一年。几件大事情都是自己在做决定，自己在承担。”采访桌那头，王源的语气沉稳有力，和大家梳理着过去大半年的生活。

“I grew up the fattest this year. I made decisions and took responsibilities for several big things in my life.” From the other side of the table, his voice sounded deep and powerful. He shared his life in the past six months.

这个曾急切地想以“刚哥”的绰号摆脱固有标签的男孩，成年后更趋向于以“柔”作为新的进攻方式，也逐渐学会与自己的焦虑和解，找到了内心世界攻防相守的平衡。面对曾让他最头疼的写歌“难产”期，王源现在也淡定了很多：“以前抓耳挠腮，现在就不管了，等灵感来了再写。着急也没用，不如放轻松。”

In the past, he was eager to get rid of stereotypes and wanted to be called “Steel Brother”. After turning 18, Wang Yuan tended to attack in a moderate way. He gradually learnt to reconcile with his anxiety and found balance in his inner world. Even in face of challenges in songwriting that troubled him most, Wang Yuan is calmer: “I used to be stressed out but now I’ll leave it there until I get inspirations. Anxiety is not helpful, it’s better to take it easy.”

当然，某些时候你还是能看到他身上藏着的柔软和不安，去异国求学半年，除了工作需要，他基本都待在波士顿及周边。

Certainly you can still see the softness and worry hidden by him sometimes. During the past six months, he stayed in Boston and neighborhoods except for work.

“（长途旅行）挺危险也挺麻烦，虽然自由，但人生地不熟，一个人跑到一座新的城市，也没啥好玩的。”没课时，王源宁愿待在公寓看书写歌，或者和国内的小伙伴组队玩玩游戏。

“(A long-distance travel) can be dangerous and troubling. Although it’s free in an unfamiliar city but not much fun when you visit it alone.” In spare time, Wang Yuan would rather stay in his apartment, reading books, writing songs or playing games with friends in China.

当被追问是否从小就不习惯一个人去陌生的环境时，他淡淡答道：“不知道，我从小就出来工作了，没有一个人去过。”

When asked if he was not used to facing a new environment alone since he was a kid, he answered: “I don’t know. I started working young so I've never visited places alone.”

那些独属一个少年偶像的痕迹显露了出来。他过早地被这个时代选中，巨大的流量将他飞速推向成功，但接下来却又要花费十数年，跋涉过五光十色的山水，走出那片最初的福泽。对王源来说，成长的契机来得那样早，而长成的路也那样长。幸运的是，在赞歌和荣光的包围中，他牢牢防守住了自己的初心。

The unique features of a young idol gradually appear. He was chosen by the era too early, enormous popularity drove him to success overnight, and it may take years for him to walk through mountains and pay for the gift bestowed in life. For Wang Yuan, the opportunity came so early but it would be a long way to go. Luckily, even when surrounded by praise and glory, he firmly remembers why he started.

采访结束时，王源意外说起自己最近迷上了单板滑雪。“最大感受就是摔。摔得比较狠，是真疼。”他还是初学者，不久前才刚会换刃。早两年学习双板滑雪时，他从没摔过，但现在却只能在一次接一次摔跤的挫败中，慢慢爬起来，站回板上。

At the end of the interview, Wang Yuan mentioned that he got hooked on snowboarding recently. “The most impressive thing is falling. I fell badly and that really hurt.” He lately learnt how to turn on a snowboard and was still a beginner. Two years ago when he learnt to ski, he never fell. But now he has to overcome the frustration after falling over and over again, stand up and get back on the skateboard.

“是真的很挫败、很挫败，但从刚开始完全不会，后来能站上去慢慢往下滑，能一点点找到新的成就感。”说到这里，一直表情严肃的年轻偶像不知想到了什么，终于笑了起来。兴许把每一次尝试都当做fresh start，也挺好。

“It was really frustrating. In the beginning, I didn’t know how to do it at all, but now I can stand on the skateboard and go downhill slowly. It gives me a sense of accomplishment little by little.” When he talked about it, this young idol who looked serious during the interview seemed to think of something and finally smiled. Maybe it’s great to take every attempt as a fresh start.

translated by Mian, Sheep

proofread by Moni, Nancy

4 notes · View notes

recentanimenews · 4 years ago

Text

How the Composer of Liz and the Blue Bird Used Math Equations to Write a Soundtrack

This interview was originally published by Ricky Soberano on November 7, 2018

This article is part of Crunchyroll News' KyoAni Month celebration. Check out the rest of our KyoAni features HERE.

Liz and the Blue Bird is not a typical anime spin-off film. An off-shoot of Sound! Euphonium, the film offers a different aesthetic, different tone, even a different set of protagonists than the main series. Liz explores the intimate and delicate inner worlds of two girls, Mizore and Nozomi, who were secondary characters in Euphonium. The world of this film is one built with small gestures, the sounds that fill an empty room, and, of course, a lovingly crafted soundtrack. This wasn't composer Kensuke Ushio's first time collaborating with director Naoko Yamada–the two worked together on A Silent Voice two years prior–and the connection between the two creators is electric. Soundtracks are commonly associated with the word "accompaniment," something that supplements rather than complements the rest of a work, but Ushio was involved with Liz in a much deeper way, down to shaping the very themes of the film with Yamada.

Ushio's score makes prominent use of the piano, but as you listen other sounds come to the forefront — shoes upon pavement, hands striking the top of a desk, the clinking of science classroom beakers–through these sounds an entire world blooms around us. Visuals and narrative can only show us what happens in specific segments of time, but the use of these everyday sounds pulls us into the world. It's easier to feel what it's like to spend every day at Kitauji High School. Ushio's soundtrack and Yamada's film work together to weave a world of light and sound, a place that feels at once real yet too delicate to ever enter. At Anime Expo 2018, I had the privilege of meeting and talking with Ushio about his work on Liz and the Blue Bird.

Liz and The Blue Bird marks your second collaboration with director Naoko Yamada. Could you explain how your working relationship began?

So I was doing solo work in Japan and Yamada just happened to hear my music. She became a fan. She reached out to me to collaborate together.

Were you a fan of Yamada-san’s work before as well?

Yes, I was.

For whatever it's worth, here's Naoko Yamada posing with Kensuke Ushio, composer of Koe no Katachi. pic.twitter.com/9oQQZqt0oR

— Nachi-sama (@NaChiKyoTsuki97) November 11, 2017

I’ve read that you were closely involved from the very beginning with forming the core themes of Liz and the Blue Bird which is a bit unusual for a composer of anime. Could you describe the level of involvement you had in the planning of the film with Ms. Yamada?

We discussed things before the storyboards or even the music was made so we had that talk about core themes as opposed to other composers. They would normally add the music towards the beginning of the production. Myself and Yamada-san, we discussed and planned everything out before we went into producing both the storyboards and composing the music. I loved creating a core concept.

Could you talk a little bit more about the themes of disjoint and coprime?

So one of the core themes for the movie’s sound was a story about two girls who are together at first but slowly drift apart as things go along so we’d like to address how that happens and what leads to it.

The way that the idea of coprime works is that you have two series that starts with an integer — for example, four and five. They’re very close at first but as you go further along in the series, they get farther and farther away. That’s one of the reasons we thought the idea of coprime would fit into the context of the story itself.

That’s really beautiful.

From the sound of footsteps being used as percussion in a song to the noise of classroom objects folding into the background music, ambient sound plays a special role in this film. How did you capture all of these noises and what was your purpose in leaving them in every part of the film?

One of the things that we thought when applying all of this is that we didn’t want people to realize or understand the idea that these girls were slowly drifting apart from each other just because it’s such a sad occurrence. That was one of the core parts as well when we were planning out how to do and use the sound effects.

We also wanted to show that there was no one else around in the world. It was just those two girls. There wasn’t really anyone else to help or support or anything like that.

One of the main ideas that was always in my head while making the soundtrack was to use only the objects that they could actually see, such as in the tables and desks in the classroom, and the seats, even the beakers in the science rooms and all of that sort of stuff. We went to the actual school that the film is based on and we went around to all of the objects just to get all of the sounds and make it even more authentic.

youtube

For what it’s worth as a viewer, it really brought me into the world, the very small world of these characters. You and Yamada worked with sound director, Yôta Tsuruoka on A Silent Voice and are together again for this film. Could you explain Tsuruoka’s role and how he affected the sounds of Liz and the Blue Bird?

So for us, Tsuruoka is 20 or so years older than us. He is always someone we can rely on — someone that gives their all in that perspective — so for us personally his presence was something that allowed us to go ahead with what we needed to do and if anything came ever up, we could rely on him to help us out. He is a really, really great person. I love him.

There are numerous times in Liz and the Blue Bird where the music and imagery invoke a nostalgic, difficult to describe sentiment. With such hard to describe abstract feelings, how did you and Yamada make sure that you were both on the same page for the emotional feelings of the movie?

So, the fact that we’re very close in age and grew up enjoying the same sort of music ... that helped us stay on the same wavelength during the projects. Our similarities just ensured that we were always really close in mindset. We can talk about over ten years of music that we both enjoy. It’s a really cool thing. I thought we united and bonded.

As for the soundtrack's sheet music itself, we made that through a process called decalcomania (note: an art technique where paint or ink is pressed into a folded paper to create symmetrical designs) which the way we’ve made that, is a way of representing how the two girls, that sort of disjoint between them and that gradual separation. We took that and used that as the base for the soundtrack as well so that’s one of the reasons why it ended up with such a nostalgic tone to it.

Some of the sheet music created using decalcomania.

Within the decalcomania you’ll see different objects represented by different colors, the beaker, the piano, the desk scraping sound. For example, the footsteps are synchronized to the music. The footsteps had an actual tempo. The tempo is 99, 100, 101. These are coprime numbers. The footsteps tempo is always a coprime number but also we slightly moved the tempo because we are humans and not robots, so we can't perfectly match it. So, at the very end of this film, you saw this lovely on-screen situation — I cannot remember the tone but for a second the footsteps are completely synced. Just the footsteps. This was so unexpected, even for me, hearing that the footsteps ended up in sync together. It felt like a genuine miracle that that happened. It was a joint moment.

The disjoint becomes joined. I know that Liz and the Blue Bird just released recently but do you and Naoko Yamada have any plans to work together in the future?

I hope so! After finishing A Silent Voice, we thought "we can do more." This is a result. After finishing Liz and the Blue Bird, we thought again, "we can do more."

Beautiful. One more thing: Do you have anything you’d like to say to the fans of you and Yamada’s work in the West?

The reason why I think Liz and the Blue Bird is entertaining is maybe because ... you’re crying. I think it’s a really nice story so I hope you like it.

After I saw this film, after the production was finished, I cried. But I cannot find the words to express myself. I wasn’t able to understand myself what I was feeling — sadness or despair — but at the same time, I did sort of understand what was being felt in the first place. I’m hoping fans abroad will be able to go through that same experience. Maybe realize something that they haven’t before.

Cayla Coats is the Editor-in-Chief of Crunchyroll News. She tweets @ceicocat

Interview by Cayla Coats, additional contributions by Ricky Soberano.

By: [email protected]

#Anime #News #Latest in Anime News by Crunchyroll!

1 note · View note

kikiofthevast · 5 years ago

Text

Fanfic I have downloaded on my phone

I do recommend all of these and read them fairly consistently.

---

Sanders Sides

---

A Lovely Night - Peter164

Summary:

Virgil has a boyfriend, a dramatic, over the top, self absorbed boyfriend. But his dad doesn't know. He asks for some help from a trusted adult. This trusted adult just happens to be his teacher. But it seems that there always has to be a secret boyfriend in the family when his dad starts dating.

Genre: Fluff and Smut

Ships: Prinxiety + Logicality

My Thoughts: Fantastic, and you can skip the smut chapters without missing anything. It's a good, pretty healthy, supportive romance on both ends and I love reading it, it's so nice.

---

Powerless - patentpending (on Ao3) (Tumblr: @/impatentpending)

Summary:

“People like us,” Logan had once remarked to Virgil. “Are statistical anomalies.”

(Almost) Everyone in the world has powers. As for those who don’t, well, they’re such a small part of the population - only 0.04% - why would anyone care about them?

Ever since he realized what people mean when they call him Powerless, Virgil Sanders has tried to fight back against the system that oppresses people like him, Patton, and Logan. When Patton’s bakery is targeted in a hate crime, he finally snaps. With the help of a mysterious sponsor, Virgil becomes a villain, ready to remake a broken society. The only thing standing in his way is the world’s most Powerful (and infuriatingly charming) superhero: The Prince, who is hiding the fact that his gilded life isn’t as perfect as it may seem.

Genre: Angst

Ships: Prinxiety + Logicality (with background OC+OC)

My thoughts: Without a doubt one of the best fanfics I've ever read. The author likes to keep readers on their toes and surprise you around ever corner. Every part of the plot is well-executed and enjoyable, and you can feel the emotion of the characters.

---

Horizons - triggermoreliketiger (I know they have a Tumblr but I don't know what it is)

Summary:

The life of Roman del Rey was planned to the bits. Born in a wealthy family he was supposed to take over his father’s business. His last moments of freedom? The journey abroad. He couldn’t have predicted that when he would come back, everything he knew was about to change.

On the opposide side of social ladder, the genius inventor- Logan Sanders was struggling to make it through another day. His only chance? Get himself a sponsor rich enough to fund another year of Logan’s work. He couldn’t know that his last chance would blew up right into his face.

Genre: Angst

Ships: Prinxiety + Logicality

My thoughts: Holy crap I love this fic so much you wouldn't even believe. I adore the way everyone is characterized and Virgil and Patton are probably my favorites on that front. Just go read it, you won't regret it.

---

Patton's Break - Shay_Nioum (Tumblr: @/sidespromptblog)

Summary:

When Patton snaps one day, it directly affects Logan. A misunderstanding on Patton's part, and a broken heart on Logan's.

Genre: Angst

Ships: Platonic Logicality

My thoughts: I read this whenever I need to cry. It's such quality angst and I love it a lot. Logan is trying so hard, poor boi.

---

Ace Attorney

---

The Phantom's Curse - gen

Summary:

Everyone knows the story of the Phantom; usually mothers whisper it to their babies to get them to behave, or it's told around the campfires of travelers. What they don't know, however, is that it is very real, and the Phantom could be watching at any time, from any set of eyes.

Genre: Angst and Adventure

Ships: Wrightworth/Narumitsu

My thoughts: I'm a sucker for pirates. I love the way this fic was written and executed you you should go read it. Also: don't be me and waste time being suspicious of Kristoph because he ain't evil in this. Still a bit of an ass, though. All the references to the cases were nice and the whole plotline was just so fun and enjoyable.

---

A Beautiful Thing - wrightgotwronged

Summary:

"The Girl was offering me a way out...and I was desperate enough to believe her,"

Private Inspector Phoenix Wright is given the case of a lifetime when the mysterious Dahlia Hawthorne walks into his office. With a missing girl and murder on his plate, Phoenix is caught in a whirlwind of confusion and deceit. His past coming back to haunt him in the form of the District Attorney doesn't seem to help either.

Genre: Angst and Mystery

Ships: Eventual Wrightworth (Brief Phoenix/Dahlia)

My thoughts: I adore this fic. It's got a good, substantial mystery, and though most people can predict some of the turns it takes, it's a fun ride and 10/10 would read again.

---

Turnabout: Bloodline - MalikRuttingAssassinAss

Summary:

Chief Prosecutor Edgeworth collapses at work in the midst of a heated trial. What comes from his hospitalisation throws both his and Phoenix's worlds into mass confusion, exposing forgotten family secrets, a murder, and uncharted feelings.

Genre: Angst and Smut (with a side of Fluff and Comedy)

Ships: Wrightworth/Narumitsu

My thoughts: This is a fantastic storyline, Phoenix is also kind of an idiot for the first bit but it's still really entertaining and nice.

---

The Turnabout of Hazakura - MalikRuttingAssassinAss

Sequel to Turnabout: Bloodline

Summary:

Losing patience with the so-called "gift" of his lineage, Miles Edgeworth, along with Phoenix Wright, seeks the tutelage of the Nuns of Hazakura temple. Whilst hoping to control his "gift" with a punishing endurance regime, a horrific murder is discovered within the Temple grounds, and the evidence points towards one person.

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Mystery, and Smut

Ships: Previously established, also developing Phoenix/Miles/Simon

My thoughts: This fic is incredible and I agree with Miles on the reveal of a certain plot point, honestly. But the mystery is well-executed and I just love the inclusion of Shi Long Lang (even though I haven't played either of the Investigations games).

---

sleep no more - prinsipe

Summary:

Blood is thicker than water.

Or: Klavier deals with the aftermath.

Klavier’s first memory of blood went a little like this: the turkey at the family dinner, the worn handle of the knife, and Kristoph’s brown hands.

In retrospect, it was those details that stuck out at him above all else—the family dinner, because it was the first and last of its kind, the worn handle of the knife because it made him think of how it looked like it was made for the grooves of Kristoph’s hands, and Kristoph’s hands because they moved in a way that made him think he was born for the kitchen, not the courtroom.

(Of course, as a child, it had slipped his mind that knives weren’t just used for cooking.)

Genre: Angst and minor Hurt/Comfort

Ships: Pretty Background Klapollo, implied past Daryan/Klavier

My thoughts: A very long but a very good fic. I love the way everyone is characterized, and honestly this is one of those stories that you get more out of it if you read it aloud. Klavier is just alone, and I love the way Apollo slowly helps him get back up.

---

Damage Control - pantswarrior

Summary:

After an emotional reaction from Phoenix following Edgeworth's return, Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth chooses death in truth. Fortunately for Phoenix, he doesn't quite succeed - and both of them have to learn a few lessons about communication.

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Ships: Wirghtworth/Narumitsu

My thoughts: This is such a good story, but things have to get worse before they get better so read the tags and proceed with caution.

---

Lost in a Lie - court-ships (virtualbrownie)

Summary:

Miles Edgeworth learned to kill when he was a newborn, and he learns to love it at the age of six.

Genre: Angst and a bit of Horror

Ships: None

My thoughts: This is really dark, but I really like it and you should definitely proceed with caution. Warnings for character death, murder, animal death, and blood.

---

Intermetamorphosis - Jessepinwheel

Summary:

Or: Five Times Miles Edgeworth Didn't Know What Was Wrong With Phoenix and One Time He Wished He Didn't.

Or: God dammit Phoenix, stop shoving evidence in criminals' faces, or at least invest in a recorder.

Or: The story where Phoenix dies, but that doesn't stop him from being an ace attorney.

Genre: Comedy and Angst

Ships: None

My thoughts: This story is ridiculous but it's the good kind of ridiculous. There's just something so bizzarely funny about this happening that you just laugh at Miles's ignorance. Okay, that sounds mean, but really Miles?

---

Turnabout Santa Claus - lostangelssong

Summary:

A Christmas trial that could have been.

Genre: Comedy

Ships: None

My thoughts: It's literally just Miracle on 34th Street. That's all it is. But it's so gosh darn funny and ridiculous that I had to recommend it.

---

The Rise and Fall of the Stalk Trucy Wright Club - SlashPrincess15 (slashprincess15)

Summary:

Trucy Wright is a weird girl who makes all sorts of claims that cannot possible be true, at least that's what her school's student population believe. It all changes however when she starts getting picked up from school again.

Genre: Comedy and Angst

Ships: None

My thoughts: Such a nice fic, honestly. It's pretty funny, and the interactions Trucy has with the people that come to pick her up are fantastic.

---

The Realm - Farris

Summary:

It started off normal and innocent enough: a welcome home party for Iris.

But when a demon comes slashing through, bringing a world of ghosts and crazy with it, Maya Fey has no choice but to stand as Master to save her friends and restore balance to the Afterlife. Unfortunately, she's not Master yet. Nor is she sure she wants to be, given all that's happened to her and her family. Oh, and things only get worse when she discovers she must face a series of Trials to prove herself and her worthiness of said Master title.

Still very bitter about Kurain's role in DL-6, Miles Edgeworth finds himself having to come to terms with spiritual powers as he tags along to the realm between this world and the next. And then there are the monsters. And the gods, his father, and the Trials. Not to mention something is very much wrong with Wright... like the fact that he's not dead.

Genre: Action, Adventure, and Angst

Ships: None

My thoughts: Definitely in my top 10 favorite fics, if "A Beautiful Thing" is a 10/10, then this thing is off the scale. Also Gregory being a Good Dad™ deserves it's own book.

#logan sanders #sanders sides #patton sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #ace attorney #phoenix wright #miles edgeworth #klavier gavin #apollo justice #fic recs #kiki talks #trucy wright

19 notes · View notes

lanasaved · 5 years ago

Text

sssslithers onto the scene like nagini.... hlo! i’m nai n i’m rly excited to finally return 2 rp. uni is officially Over n i’m living bk at home nw so i actually hav free time again to write. c’est une.... how do u say.... Miracle! some of u might b familiar w lana already bt if not u can find out mre abt her under the cut n feel free 2 like this or hmu fr plots!!!

p.s. this is her pinterest for those of u tht like tht kind of thing

CIS-FEMALE — ever hear people say LANA JAMESON looks a lot like KRISTINE FROSETH? I think SHE is about 22, so it doesn’t really work. The DANCE major is a JUNIOR that is from ALBANY, NEW YORK. They can be + VIVACIOUS, but they can also be - IRRESPONSIBLE. I think LANA might be SHEEP. They are living in BALTA. ( nai. 22. gmt. she/her. )

some random aesthetics: a red water pistol topped up with caribbean rum and covered in stickers of cartoon pin up girls, a vinyl record whirring silently because you got too distracted by a stranger’s hands to reach over and flip sides, giant inflatable flamingos floating in the aftermath of a pool party, smudgy lipstick kisses left like an autograph on someone else’s mirror

ic im sayin she jst got bk from going abroad w louis, this kind of sleazy older man tht manages the camgirls on the website lana works fr. he calls himself a “big exec” at “the company” n mkes it all sound a lot more professional than it is. he also owns this big house w all these different rooms/settings fr the girls to film different kinds of scenes in n is looked up by a lot of ppl bt when asked why they look up to him, nobody ever rly seems to have an answer. jst...a shady figure. lana kind of.... went off the deep end lst semester n ended up deferring her next one after missing her big graded ballet recital. it’s a whole big mess n she’s wearin horse blinders to it. truly jst.... goin on holiday to ignore hw much she’s fuckin things up at school. queen of burying her head in the sand!

frm this point on ive jst pasted her old intro bc im the laziest woman alive n that’s jst life Babey

grew up in a big house in albany, NY, bt also spent time all over the place n was in the city a lot

okay so her mum is an old money socialite / three time campaign model way back when n her dad is a big record label mogul. he owns a label called jameson records n they repped a few big rock bands back in the eighties, altho they’re mostly known for ‘poppy injects’ whose lead singer had a big heroin scandal tht brought down his career. lana p much grew up around musicians snorting lines instead of spooning down cereal fr breakfast n her parents were v much absent her whole life

they’re pretty well off obviously n bc of her relation to such a big music industry figure she’s hung out w a fair few relatively high rep ppl thru her teens. she amassed kind of an instagram following mainly fr her style (v penny lane-esque in some aspects aka lots of fur cuff trimmed jackets bt then also jst…. a wild combination of everything honestly. pastel faux fur coats, seventies style platforms, flame red cowboy boots, pastel coloured fishnet tights n glitter used like highlight Everywhere) n bc she’s undeniably very pretty

her parents always kind of jst… didn’t like her. it was v clear that she was an accident after her older brother caleb n that even when they just had him alone they weren’t cut out for parenthood. they always kind of jst… ignored her n hoped she’d go away. she had to mke herself microwave meals when she ws only like 12 bc they’d forget to get her anything. once she went like 6 days without her mum even looking her in the eyes once

despite this tho!!! she’s always been insanely close w her brother caleb. he’s her whole world. thts why when he decided to sign up to the army she ws understandably scared bt supported him regardless. bt then he wound up getting discharged under grounds of severe ptsd when he witnessed his best friend die in an explosion tht took place in a shock raid. caleb returned home n he was never the same n lana kind of felt like he’d died out there too. he’s in n out of hospital a lot n it’s rly hard on her bt she doesn’t tlk abt it to anyone rly

growing up lana was always a huge social butterfly. jst literally…. knew everyone n everyone definitely knew her. she ws one of those girls tht ws kind of impossible to ignore or forget. very animated, always made u feel like u were the centre of the universe whenever she spoke to u, always made it feel like u were best friends even if ud only spoken to her once. she has this magnetic way abt her tht is kind of hard to find in real life. it’s something ud only rly expect out of a movie character

she’s always been insatiably spontaneous n adventurous. always doing something weird n wild every weekend. she has ten thousand stories tht always earn a laugh or a gasp over how ridiculously absurd they r

anyway so after caleb got back he was rly withdrawn n depressed. he shut lana out n was kind of harsh to her a lot of the time, always telling her to leave him alone or pushing her away. it didnt help either tht lana had a rly traumatic experience w some of her dad’s colleagues at the label when she ws 16 n he was away n she cldnt even tell him abt it once he was bk bc of his own traumas. she kind of jst shut it all in n kept it to herself

this obviously?? made her spiral a lot. she was already a girl tht loved sex (she’d only rly done foreplay before tho) but since her trauma it got…. completely out of hand. it got to a point where she couldnt rly go 2 days without it, probably not even 1. her lowest point has probably been scrolling thru craiglist for anonymous encounters n meeting up w strangers on there fr a quick fuck jst for the thrill even tho it’s insanely dangerous n she cld wind up getting herself killed. it’s v clear at this point tht she has a sex addiction whether she’s ever admitted it or not. in fact she’s so… shameless in her endeavours tht she’s actually currently having an affair w her ballet instructor tanya who’s engaged to b married

she also currently? is working as a cam girl. she found this website bc she trawls… porn stuff a lot n she wound up applying to work as one bc she thought it’d b fun n wld earn her some disposal income (even tho she frankly doesn’t need it bc she’s already well off). the guy tht manages all of the girls on the site is kind of suspect n it’s a whole plot i’m gna unravel where it’s actually like the front for a cult or something wild so. stay posted ig. kgjdkgjh

new development!!!!!!!! cue me trottin around doin jazz hands. she’s actually been cut off by her dad so she’s….. living off the money she has left n has to look to find a job which is jst. a nightmare fr someone like lana bc she’s insatiably irresponsible n destined to be fired from anything she tries to hold down bt. it’ll be interesting bc this means she genuinely has to keep on camming even tho she’s starting not to want to any more bc of other circumstances i won’t elaborate on jst yet winks

personality/some fun facts: uncontrollably flirty. boundlessly confident. cld make a joke out a paper bag n her comedy is sometimes surreal / absurd. she tends to laugh when she feels like crying n has a smile brighter than a ray of texas sunshine. always dapples her fingers thru the breeze when she’s driving in a car w the window down. her fav book as a child used to b alice in wonderland n she’d fantasise abt having her own little wonderland too where everyone knew her name n asked her things n took her on adventures. at the time it didn’t rly strike her how evident it was tht that was bc she was so lonely. she almost always has some sort of sweet on her, whether it’s strawberry laces or gummy bears or cherry lollipops. she adores david bowie n prince n madonna n anyone tht’s a vintage style icon w little care fr what ppl think. wildflowers r her favourites bc they’re the brightest and u can’t buy them. she’s had like 8472493874 ‘relationships’ n none of them hav lasted beyond a month / hav been terrible / hav seen her being treated badly / she’s cheated on them. i dnt think she’s actually been w anyone she hasn’t cheated on in some form or another

plot ideas: exes tht lana’s fucked over hideously. she’d probably cheat a lot and it’d be a whole…mess. mayb someone tht flipped the switch and cheated on her? a cousin plot cld b fun too. a friend tht lana fel out w bc she slept w their significant other. someone tht’s getting lana into drugs?? she’s kind of impressionable/down for anything so tht’s a likely scenario she’d get into tbh. an unrequited crush!! (either way is cool). someone tht is just hanging out w her/using her bc she has a lot of instagram followers or they want to b signed to her dad’s label. someone in a band!! she’d probably make like penny lane n b their groupie/sleep w them all fgjkshgkh. umm a good influence too mayb? oh and a past summer romance/fling tht cld either have meant a lot or not have meant anything at all. bonus points if both of them hav a diff viewpoint on it. honestly?? anything is fine i cld ramble for days. let’s get wildt!

#livingintro #inhales fr ten minutes to muster the breath necessary to add al these tws #rape tw #statutory rape tw #only brief / touched on / not explored in detail bt stil!#abuse tw #ptsd tw #hospitalisation tw #hypersexuality tw #addiction tw #death tw #mental illness tw #drugs tw

12 notes · View notes

spicynbachili2 · 6 years ago

Text

Recalling Jonestown massacre 40 years on

Some tragedies lose their energy to shock with the passage of time. That’s not true of what’s turn out to be referred to as the Jonestown bloodbath. Forty years in the past, on Nov. 18, 1978, self-styled holy man Jim Jones oversaw the mass slaughter of practically 900 members of his church or, extra precisely, cult — the Peoples Temple, marking the terrifying finish to their experiment in constructing a utopian neighborhood within the South American jungle. One cause why the horror of that occasion hasn’t pale 4 a long time later is as a result of Jones recorded himself preaching to his congregation as they died, entreating them to drink poison and guaranteeing that the colony’s giant inhabitants of youngsters consumed it as effectively.

Flash-forward to the current day, and Jonestown has turn out to be the go-to instance when each skilled and armchair analysts focus on the insanity of crowds, or single-minded devotion to a spiritual or political chief. On the similar time, the emphasis on the bloodbath usually overwhelms the story behind Jonestown and Jones himself. The brand new four-part documentary sequence Jonestown: Terror within the Jungle, which premieres this Saturday on SundanceTV, reconstructs the incident’s historical past by way of the testimony of Jonestown survivors, Jones’s now-grown sons and writer Jeff Guinn, who wrote the 2017 e book The Street to Jonestown.

Talking with Yahoo Leisure, Guinn expressed some remorse that the Jonestown bloodbath has turn out to be such a ubiquitous reference level, inspiring such oft-heard phrases as, “Don’t drink the Kool-Support.” “To start with, it wasn’t Kool-Support,” he notes. “And second, let’s face what the connotation is; it’s used to imply, ‘Don’t be a senseless zombie who simply routinely follows orders from an clearly demented chief.’ And the scenario in Jonestown wasn’t like that in any respect.” We spoke with Guinn concerning the particulars which can be usually overlooked when Jonestown is mentioned, and what parallels he sees between Jim Jones and a pacesetter like Donald Trump.

Writer Jeff Guinn is among the many speaking heads within the new documentary, Jonestown: Terror within the Jungle (Picture: Cooper Neill/SundanceTV)

Extra

Yahoo Leisure: Forty years later, what are the largest misperceptions individuals have of Jonestown and the way do you hope to right them along with your e book and the documentary? Jeff Guinn: Like all people else, once I began writing the e book, I didn’t know there had been misconceptions. There have been three large surprises for me through the greater than three years I spent researching. The primary one concerned Jim Jones. I had no concept that he had been such an ideal chief within the American civil rights motion. He and his spouse nearly singlehandedly ended complete racial discrimination in Indianapolis, which was probably the most segregated main cities in America. There’s all the time a component of fraud there; he would do all these miracle cures to draw audiences, and so they weren’t miracle cures. However he completed all these good issues that I’d had completely no thought about till I bought to Indianapolis.

The second factor was that the standard of the individuals who joined Jim Jones and have become members of Peoples Temple included among the most clever, gifted and socially dedicated individuals you’d discover wherever. These weren’t dummies simply falling into place; they actually believed in what Jones was preaching. And the third factor is that the psychological picture most individuals have of what occurred that day, 40 years in the past, is that you simply had nearly 900 individuals in line obediently ingesting these cups of poison and falling over lifeless. A number of did that, that’s true — however over 300 of the individuals who died that day had been infants and toddlers who had no alternative. And primarily based on autopsies and research carried out by the Guyanese docs on website proper afterward, lots of the individuals concerned had abscesses on their our bodies. They hadn’t taken the poison voluntarily; there have been armed guards throughout the pavilion in Jonestown, and individuals who dissented had been held down and forcibly injected. So we’re speaking mass homicide as a lot or extra so than mass suicide.

Story Continues

Whilst you had been researching and writing, would you attempt to put your self of their place? Did you concentrate on whether or not you’d have been prone to Jones’s message within the first place, after which what you’d have carried out on the day of the bloodbath? When Peoples Temple was in its heyday, I used to be a youngster rising up in Texas and I used to be very socially lively. I used to be very a lot antagonized by racism, significantly the way in which Hispanics had been being handled in Texas, and I attempted to become involved politically as a lot as I may. However in these days, an 18- or 19-year previous child didn’t get to vote, and there wasn’t that a lot you could possibly do. So if Jim Jones had out of the blue proven up in Austin, Texas, with the Peoples Temple, I’d’ve felt so caught up by not simply the guarantees of, “When you be part of us, it is possible for you to to make a distinction.” The precise proof [was there]; when you joined Peoples Temple, you actually did get to make the world a greater place indirectly or one other. I may see myself climbing on the bus and going with them.

Frankly, I don’t see that I’d’ve stayed to the top, as Jones bought more and more weird in his conduct. Then once more, speaking to the oldsters who did be part of, they hasten to level out that Jones didn’t go over the sting simply impulsively in the future. It was a really gradual course of. One survivor, Tim Carter, once more, mentioned it was just like the frog in a pot of water. When you drop a frog in a pot of boiling water, it’ll attempt to hop out straight away. However when you put the frog in lukewarm water and heat it up a level at a time, it’ll keep there, not realizing it’s being boiled alive.

That speaks to the idealism and dedication of the individuals Jones attracted that you simply referenced earlier. One of many issues that pleases me a lot concerning the documentary is that it reveals how the members of the Peoples Temple would nonetheless be capable to do issues — from free clothes and meals to these in must marriage counseling — even with all of the loopy issues occurring amongst the management. There are individuals strolling this earth who will inform you they wouldn’t be alive with out Peoples Temple. So each day, they may really feel that they had been doing one thing worthwhile, that they devoted their lives to an ideal trigger, not realizing that the chief at a sure level was going to determine that the ultimate grand gesture can be what he referred to as a “revolutionary act” glorifying suicide and mass homicide.

We’ve incessantly heard the time period “cult” incessantly utilized to Donald Trump and his followers. Leaving apart how Jim Jones’s story ended, do you see any parallels to what we’re seeing play out at this time? All politicians and all spiritual leaders to a sure extent need to be demagogues. They’re attempting to create a way of urgency: You’ve gotta vote for me, you’ve gotta come to my church. Jones had traits that each demagogue has in widespread. The obvious ones are they establish present social issues, however they exaggerate the hazard. They wish to make individuals really feel scared; they all the time current themselves as the one one who can clear up the issue; and so they do their finest to persuade their followers that anybody who disagrees is the enemy. And the very last thing is that they attempt to lower them off from different opinions and voices. They are going to all the time first assault the media, then they are going to attempt to separate individuals even from household and pals. They don’t need any dissenting voices in any respect, and so they’ll do no matter they’ll to maintain the skin world away from their followers — to maintain actuality away from their followers. These are the qualities of the worst demagogues. Jim Jones matches that to a T, and I believe individuals must ask themselves: Is there a lesson right here for the current day?

It’s fascinating that that Jones’s views had been very progressive in some methods, whereas Trump’s concepts about bettering the nation are about taking it again to a vanished previous. See, that’s the distinction. That’s the factor that makes Jones distinctive amongst profitable demagogues who finally led their followers into catastrophe. He’s been in contrast the years to Hitler, however in contrast to Hitler, Jones didn’t acquire his followers by interesting to their worst natures. Jones informed his followers, “You’re gonna have to surrender issues. What we’re attempting to do is ensure that everybody will get a justifiable share, not that you simply’re going to get extra.” Nobody ever bought something from changing into a part of Peoples Temple — they needed to give. And that’s what makes Jones all of the extra horrifying, as a result of we all the time figured that the demagogues who’re going to guide individuals into horrible ends will say God-awful issues. Jones did it the opposite means, and it was extraordinarily efficient.

An aerial shot of Jonestown in 1978 (Picture: Courtesy Everett Assortment)

Extra

You’ve been to the stays of Jonestown: Taking a look at it now, do you see any means through which it may have turn out to be the utopia Jones promised? The factor that lots of people miss is that Jonestown wasn’t supposed to be the principle base of Jones’s remaining following. It was alleged to be a small abroad outpost, the place the Peoples Temple was going to ascertain a working farm. When Jones fled the U.S. after these nice investigative articles about him destroyed his political and public base, he introduced with him nearly a thousand individuals. So from the start, there’s overcrowding. They’re by no means gonna be capable to develop sufficient meals to feed themselves, and there’s fixed bodily labor with out nourishment.

In the meantime, Jones is within the grip of medicine greater than ever, and his paranoia is increasing. However there they’re 150 miles away from something, and the one voice they hear each evening is Jones telling them information from America, that focus camps for blacks have simply been opened, that the Military is now capturing down much more dissidents identical to us. So that you’ve bought exhausted people who find themselves malnourished, and so they’re listening to this time and again from Jones.

Standing in Jonestown, did you’re feeling the ghosts of what occurred there a long time in the past? I felt surprised. Till I had gone by way of that jungle, I had no thought simply how wild and primitive and horrifying it actually was. It’s triple-canopy bushes so shut collectively the solar can hardly break by way of, and brush with all types of thorns that tear at your garments and your pores and skin. You possibly can hear rustling from animals close by, however you may’t see them and you haven’t any thought what there are. Snakes are all over the place, in addition to bugs of each variety, most of them swarming and biting you. After which lastly you make your means with large problem to what’s left of the clearing that Jonestown lower, you notice the immensity of what these individuals completed. So I stood there, and that’s once I lastly understood what it will need to have taken to construct Jonestown in any respect. If Jones hadn’t gone there, it’s very seemingly that each one these years since, there would nonetheless be a working farm and settlement referred to as Jonestown.

Out of all of the tales you heard whereas reconstructing the occasions of Nov. 18, what’s the account that also haunts you? To me, essentially the most shattering expertise was the time I spent with Tim Carter, who survived that day from Jonestown, and misplaced his spouse and son on the similar time. Sitting in his residence and listening to him speak about that day, I felt his large sense of loss. And I couldn’t be extra impressed by the braveness that survivors have proven by being prepared to open up and be so trustworthy for this documentary. I’d by no means have been in a position to do this, and my admiration for them is simply immense.

There’s an simple fascination with the ghoulish elements of the Jonestown story. Are you bothered by the way in which it’s turn out to be a popular culture touchstone, versus a historic tragedy? Once I was in Guyana, a gaggle of journey businesses from world wide had come to Guyana to discover the chances of constructing the Jonestown website a [tourist] “vacation spot.” They talked about how there are all these vacationers who “love” — and that is their time period — loss of life excursions. That they love going to the focus camps in Germany and imagining the horror there. And so they thought that if Jonestown was by some means reconstructed, that folks would wish to come, and you could possibly promote them punch, and so they may line up and faux to be poisoned and die. So after all, there’s a portion of the general public that’s all the time going to be interested in that. However I additionally assume that most individuals basically are warmhearted, and in the event that they’re given the chance to know, they’ll sympathize. This present gives the proof to get the complete understanding of what occurred, and never the cartoonish, one-dimensional thought most of us had for 40 years.

Jonestown: Terror within the Jungle premieres Nov. 17 at 9 p.m. on SundanceTV.

Learn extra from Yahoo Leisure:

The post Recalling Jonestown massacre 40 years on appeared first on SpicyNBAChili.com.

from SpicyNBAChili.com https://www.spicynbachili.com/recalling-jonestown-massacre-40-years-on/

0 notes

funraising-blog1 · 8 years ago

Text

Hello from Harrison

Most of us uni students are swamped with assessments and revision right about now, however, I found it far more of interest to have a word with a Mr. Kersey about his experiences fundraising, his opinions on the world wide web, and why you ought to stay well away from the Fugees.

The sandy-haired enigma that people call Harrison Kersey is a second-year student reading Chinese Studies at the University of Manchester. Over his Easter break he embarked on a two-wheeled woodland journey across Europe with two mates. This was in order to raise money for Medecins Sans Frontieres, a non-governmental organisation which works to aid victims of armed conflict, epidemics, and other disasters.

Having experienced the joy of cycling across France last summer, Harrison had initially planned the trip for fun. The mission brief was as follows. Kersey was to cycle about 800 miles eastwards from Hook of Holland to Berlin, accompanied by Stan, ‘sweaty and sensible’, and Arthur, a ‘freewheeling saint’. Though I was told that the expedition was gifted with gorgeous weather and a flat landscape, the trip wasn’t all gliding comfortably through the sunshine, for the boys kept it rough and tumble by wild-camping the whole way, pitching tents in whatever spots they could find. The inspiration to fundraise struck when a friend’s girlfriend commented on the surprising length of the route, and suggested that they get sponsored. Harrison told me that it seems obvious looking back, and offered his keen sense of adventure as an explanation for his lack of previous enlightenment. ‘I guess to some people, cycling right across two countries is their idea of hell, whereas we were all pretty stoked about the idea’. Next, the boys had to choose where their donations were going. They eventually chose MSF in admiration of their incredibly important work and the bravery of the doctors, who ‘put their lives on the line to help those in need’. Trip planned and cause chosen, all was set for some good times.

Harrison told me about one of the many highlights of the trip. Having cycled over a hundred miles when they crossed the River Elbe, the active crew had promised themselves that they’d cross it before they stopped for the night. By the time that they did, there was nobody around. ‘It was dead quiet as we went over, the bridge and the water below all lit up beautifully by the moon. We all stood at the middle of the bridge, watching the water pass underneath us, knackered, but full of wonder at how far we’d come.’

There were some surprises along the way, however. Out of fuel for the campstove, the three kings spent three hours making for Camping World, bikes following that shining beacon in the sky that we call Google Maps. Doubts started to emerged when they reached an industrial estate outside of Rheine, but the real downfall came at their arrival: ‘It was just a f*cking carpark full of huge white mobile homes, with a showroom selling televisions and sinks to customise them with. Turns out, “camping” means something very different in Europe; effectively what a camping holiday entails for them is you drive an enormous moving house to a spot near a lake or somewhere nice, and live exactly as you would do at home with satellite TV and an ensuite master bedroom.’ Looking for a bit more rustic wilderness, the travellers didn’t take the miracle too well. ‘Needless to say, we were hungry and pretty pissed off’.

Harrison, who has written for the Mancunion in the past, has now made blog in order to practice his writing and share his life with anyone who’s interested (link at bottom of page). On it, he has recorded his recent experiences abroad, including one of his funniest. He recounts sensible Stan getting bitten by a pig, which he charmingly characterises for us as Miss Oink:

‘Miss Oink got an apple core from me and a grape from Arthur, leaving Stan to choose between his apple and his trousers. Like Eve in the garden of Eden, he chose the fruit, and his joggers have the holes to prove it.’

Don’t worry I’ve got your backs. Hungry for more information, I asked for the full damage report. Turns out, ‘she just put a set of holes in his trousers. Almost like she’s practiced…’

And before you ask, when I saw these questions, ‘‘Will they make it to the border? What terrible monsters await them in the forests of Germany? Will Stan fall in love and elope with a tall and beautiful Dutch girl?’ you’re damned right that I got the answers. (‘Yes’, ‘All sorts, eagles, otters, owls, deer’ and ‘hopefully one day but not yet’).

Tumblr isn’t the only network that Harrison is active on, for he relied on the hearts of his Facebook friends to fundraise for the sponsored cycle. He detailed his take on the relationship between social media and charity work. ‘I think it’s a great tool! I think the concern about the negative impacts of social media can often overshadow the tremendous benefits it also offers.’ And he’s not wrong, for Facebook yielded two thirds of the £813 that was donated to the cause. (Note that this is only a rough estimation based on the proportion of friends that donated as opposed to family).

Aside from MSF, Harrison supports non-profit organisations in the frequent perusal of charity shop wares, and has raised money for JDRF a few times before. ‘It’s a Diabetes research charity, which is something that’s always been close to my heart as my little sister has been Type 1 Diabetic since she was a baby.’

However, ever the vigilante, the man warns us to stay wary. ‘Someone whose opinions I value once told me you shouldn’t donate to cancer research charities, because they’ve already got so much money that they’re not really in need of any more. I don’t know how much truth there is to that, I’ve never looked into it myself, but it does seem to make sense. I remember a few years ago there was a scandal involving Wyclef Jean where he’d been embezzling funds from a charity he set up for victims of the earthquake in Haiti. What a scumbag. So yeah, any cancer charity with associations to members of the Fugees is probably one to avoid.’ Well, I guess A Change is Gonna Come now that we know The Score. (Did I take that a pun too far? Probably. It wasn’t great to begin with.)

And though his moral compass is most surely in tact, Kersey ain’t a saint. When I asked him about his past in fundraising he let me in on triathlon-related secret. The man’ll run for charity but he’ll also cheat: ‘[I] did less running than everyone else. I thought I’d made an incredible comeback when I saw where I’d placed, but it turns out I’d done one lap too few. Oh well.’

On the subject of other young people and charity work, Kersey held what I see to be an equally useful and truthful insight. ‘I think the important thing is that people do what they can. It doesn’t have to be a massive endeavour to raise money for charity, even just running a 10k could be a platform for raising a couple of hundred quid.’

In terms of his plans for the future, Harrison hopes to hop on his bike again for his year abroad. ‘It’s older than I am, and it’s taken me around France, Holland and Germany, as well as being my stepdad’s when he lived in America. I think taking it back to Taiwan, where it was made, would be the cherry on the cake. A nice homecoming, and hopefully a good laugh as well.’ And this is a good place to leave it, for ‘a good laugh’ is an apt description of my conversation with Harrison, (always a pleasure), and I hope that any readers out there had one as well.

If you had fun reading about Harrison’s ‘wicked fun times’, have a peek at his blog here: https://globalosource.tumblr.com/

And check out his six-part journey soundtrack here:

Miss Oink’s Eastward Extravaganza

(Playlist features:

Keep Ya Head Up by 2Pac,

Spottieottiedopalscious by OutKast

Flatiron by Suzanne Kraft

Sense by King Gizzard and The Lizard Wizard

The Real Deal by GoldFish

Didn’t I by Darondo)

Finally, if you can, have a look at skimming a little bit off the top of your bank balance to donate to MSF. You can do this via. the boys’ Just Giving page here at

https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/standelakersey,

or go and give directly to MSF at

https://www.justgiving.com/msfuk, where you can also join in on the fundraising fun.

#interview #funraising #msf #fundraising

1 note · View note

torentialtribute · 5 years ago

Text

Leicester news: Danny Simpson opens up on leaving Leicester and tragedy at the King Power

Danny Simpson kept his emotions under control in public, but once alone he couldn't help tears fall. He had just played his last game for Leicester on the last day against Chelsea and when he said goodbye to staff and environment, memories came to mind. ] & # 39; It was very emotional & # 39 ;, he says now, two months later. & # 39; I was welling up inside, but I don't like to cry for people. When private … It was more when I left the dressing room and said goodbye. "

Continuing is a fact of football, a necessary transaction, but the band Simpson feels for Leicester, after five years there, it has a special quality. It was the place where miracles were done, the place where mourning took place

<img id = "i-762f9bd249c1084d" src = "https://ift.tt/2YiPWrY -image-a-98_1563550240463.jpg "height =" 432 "width =" 634 "alt =" <img id = "i-762f9bd249c1084d" src = "https://ift.tt/2CqCUN8 07/19/16 / 16256868-0-image-a-98_1563550240463.jpg "height =" 432 "width =" 634 "alt =" <img id = "i-762f9bd249c1084d" src = "https: //i.dailymail .co.uk / 1s / 2019/07/19/16 / 16256868-0-image-a-98_1563550240463.jpg "height =" 432 "width =" 634 "alt =" Danny Simpson known sadness when leaving Leicester City after making history with the foxes

Danny Simpson admitted tears in Leicester City after making history with the Foxes

<img id = "i-204bd311c3951e8e" src = "https://ift.tt/2YiQEp8 0-image-a-91_1563549082018.jpg "height =" 399 "width =" 634 "alt =" <img id = "i-204bd311c3951e8e" src = "https://ift.tt/2W3ngi6 /07/19/16/16256148-0-image-a-91_1563549082018.jpg "height =" 399 "width =" 634 "alt =" Simpson left Leicester as the Premier League winner after the triumph of her 2016 miracle "

<img id = "i-2b5f99f218d4aa91" src = "https: // i. dailymail.co.uk/1s/2019/07/19/16/16256362-0-image-a-94_1563549324704.jpg "height =" 436 "width =" 634 "alt =" The veteran full back (right) celebrates with de t

<img id = "i-2b5f99f218d4aa91" src = "https://ift.tt/2XXTcox "height =" 436 "width =" 634 "alt =" The experienced full back (right) celebrates with the trophy after the storm club title "class =" blkBorder img

The experienced full back (right) celebrates with the trophy after the unlikely title of the club in due course but first, when he settles in an outside booth at the Piccolino restaurant in Hale, I am talking about his future.

Simpson is still a free agent and the summer growls that he weighs up potential destinations. At the age of 32, with a Premier League medalist in his possession, he is determined to find a good club. Celtic is interested and there are a number of options in England.

—-> 2008: Ipswich Town (loan)

—-> 2007: Sunderland (loan)

—– 2008-2010: Newcastle United States

& # 39; I'd like to go back to the King Power to play against the boys & # 39; he says. & # 39;

Simpson has already gone abroad this summer to maintain his fitness. He spent time in Dubai with K3 Performance, trained alongside Daniel James and Josh King, and has been in Greece this week with Mykonos Performance, another center for top athletes looking for sharpness.

& # 39; Getting away is good for your mind, and you work in the heat & # 39 ;, Simpson says. & # 39; It makes me finish the day with the new team. I have done a lot of fitness and strength work, many hill runs. & # 39;

He adds: & # 39; It was an unusual sight to see all the Leicester boys on July 1. They are like family. I was FaceTiming when they were in Evian and the fitness coaches sent me sessions to do. I'm still close to them. "

Strong relationships are forged when shared experiences have been seismic in Leicester. There was the great escape, the 5,000-1 title victory, an unlikely Champions League run and then a disaster.

The Leicester's fairy-tale Champions League campaign saw the foxes reach the quarter-finals "

<img id =" i-b224ec002a051f3b "src =" https://ift.tt/2W3ngi6 /07/19/16/16256522-0-image-a-97_1563549859117.jpg "height =" 423 "width =" 634 "alt =" <img id = "i-b224ec002a051f3b" src = "https: // i. dailymail.co.uk/1s/2019/07/19/16/16256522-0-image-a-97_1563549859117.jpg "height =" 423 "width =" 634 "alt =" <img id = "i-b224ec002a051f3b" src = "https://ift.tt/2YiQFtc" height = "423" width = "634" alt = " Leicester's fairy-tale Champions League campaign saw the foxes reach the quarter

Among those horrible

[1 9459010]

Leicester's fairy-tale Champions League campaign saw the foxes reach the quarter-finals

At that terrible moment last October, when the helicopter with Vichai Srivaddhanaprabha and four others crashed in front of the King Power, Simpson was with a group in the team hotel.

& # 39; It just didn't seem real, & # 39; he reflects. & # 39; The news filtered through, but we still believed it had nothing to do with him. It was horrible.

& # 39; Even through the strange incident in my Leicester career, I have always supported myself. I thought good people would go through difficult times. Some owners can wash their hands. That was not Vichai.

<img id = "i-e6db246388710307" src = "https://ift.tt/2Y0sPOP -99_1563550397862.jpg "height =" 423 "width =" 634 "alt =" Fox President Vichai Srivaddhanaprabha died after the helicopter crash in the stadium "

Fox President Vichai Srivaddhanaprabha died after a helicopter stadium crash 9090 in a helicopter stadium accident 90 ]

Fox President Vichai Srivaddhanaprabha died after a helicopter accident in the stadium The football world united in her grief for the loss, and challenged thousands to show their sympathy "

The football world united in its grief, prompting thousands to show their sympathy "for the loss, causing thousands to show their sympathy

] It is not his son Aiyawatt, also known as Top. Disguised in grief, Top has come forward to steer the club in a way that becomes his father. That included taking the team on a post-season trip to Monaco.

& # 39; It took me a few days to glue together & # 39 ;, Simpson says. & # 39; Top understood from his father how important that is. I had some good conversations with him.

& # 39; It's a very different kind of headspace, people come out of their shell. I will never forget the day that Shinji grabbed the microphone from scratch and danced and sang on stage. It was a Japanese song, so we just clapped! "

That was shortly after Okazaki Leicester started, at the start of the glorious 2015-16 campaign. Top has aspirations to take the club back there and that ended in February when I called Claude Puel to dismiss and appoint Brendan Rodgers.

<img id = "i-15d3af9a5baacae0" src = "https://ift.tt/2YiPYA6 16257064-0-image-a-101_1563550449750.jpg "height =" 423 "width =" 634 "alt =" <img id = "i-15d3af9a5baacae0" src = "https://ift.tt/2UINeHc /2019/07/19/16/16257064-0-image-a-101_1563550449750.jpg "height =" 423 "width =" 634 "alt =" Former Liverpool leader Brendan Rodgers was appointed to replace the dismissed Claude Puel boss Brendan Rodgers was appointed as replacement for the dismissed Claude Puel

Former Liverpool chief Brendan Rodgers was appointed to replace the dismissed Claude Puel

& # 39; I don't need too much because what you have seen on the pitch with the same players has shown you what to do & # 39 ;, says Simpson. & # 39; I'm pretty sure this season will show even more.

& # 39; Brendan is the perfect fit for Leicester. He places high demands on time monitoring and the way you behave yourself.

Simpson believes that Rodgers is enjoying a full preseason and new signing sessions in the building where Leicester can close Europe again.

& # 39; I know those players and I know the manager – I think they will be disappointed if they don't get the top six & # 39 ;, he says. & # 39; Leicester has proven before, anything is possible. & # 39;

Simpson came through the academy of Manchester United, but it was Leicester where he won the Premier League. He was helpful in instituting stingy defenses, making 30 appearances that campaign.

& # 39; Sometimes you forget & # 39 ;, he says laughing. & # 39; You are about your daily life and people remind you.

& # 39; At that time we lived in that bubble. We felt that nobody could beat us. Everyone was in sync. & # 39;

Simpson thanks Claudio Ranieri for the & # 39; He and he have a pragmatic view of where things have been unraveled for the Italian.

& # 39; You go through such a spectacular thing and things change & # 39; at night, he says. & # 39; We were in LA pre-season and new players came in.

& # 39; We went from Saturday-Saturday games to flying to Copenhagen, Bruges, and Seville. I spoke with Ryan Giggs and he said when United first started playing in Europe, it took them a few years to get used to the routine. Teams would also play differently against us.

The way Ranieri departed was a reason for Jamie Carragher to give a particularly sharp review. I accused Leicester players of knocking down tools and later jokingly equated Simpson with a snake. Simpson gave as well as he could, and reminded Carragher that he had never won the Premier League, and the couple can now laugh.

& # 39; I have met him a number of times because it is all good & well, "says Simpson, who was currently talking about a performance on Monday Night Football. & # 39; One day we'll go back and I'll get my medal – don't worry about that! & # 39;

Long-term, punditry is attractive.

Simpson has emphasized his desire to play again after he left Leicester. & # 39; The TV channels know that I would like to do that in the future & he says, & # 39; & I am talking to Jermaine Jenas and he is always told if I should ever overshadow him than I can. & # 39;

First he wants to get the most out of his career and his summer has shown that he is ready for action, he last played on May 12, when Rodgers sent him the last 14 minutes against Chelsea.

& # 39; I don't think many players will experience the reception this way & # 39 ;, Simpson says about the standing ovation.

The competitive advantage was still there. & # 39; It was funny, on the sidelines I saw Eden Hazard warming up. He went on the left wing. I came to the right five minutes after him … and luckily I made no mistake! & # 39;

Source link

#Leicester news: Danny Simpson opens up on leaving Leicester and tragedy at the King Power "

0 notes

thisdaynews · 5 years ago

Text

What Politicos Are Reading This Summer

New Post has been published on https://thebiafrastar.com/what-politicos-are-reading-this-summer/

What Politicos Are Reading This Summer

From the frenzy of the 2020 presidential field to Robert Mueller’s congressional testimony to the unremitting tweets of @realDonaldTrump, summer 2019 has shown no signs of slowing down. But for those who can pry their eyes away from the news, even briefly,Politico Magazinehere presents our annual summer reading list. We asked some of the most interesting people in politics—writers, activists, lawmakers, scholars and more—to tell us what book is at the top of their reading list and what they’re packing as a guilty pleasure on vacation. (We asked all the Democrats currently running for president for their reading recommendations; those not listed below declined to respond.) Ranging from histories of America’s past, like Rick Atkinson’sThe British Are Coming, to poignant modern memoirs like Tara Westover’sEducated, to bestselling novels like Tomi Adeyemi’sChildren of Blood and Bone, this year’s selections span a variety of genres and forms.If you’re itching to fit in some reading this summer, grab your drink of choice and pair it with one of the following.

***

Story Continued Below

James Comey, former director of the FBI:

Right now, I’m readingThe British Are Coming: The War for America, Lexington to Princeton, 1775-1777, by Rick Atkinson. As for a guilty pleasure suggestion, I would recommend that Republicans read the Mueller report, maybe concealing it inside the cover of the latest work by a Fox News broadcaster so they aren’t judged negatively by their colleagues.

***

Jay Sekulow, chief counsel at the American Center for Law and Justice, religious liberty advocate, author and member of President Donald Trump’s legal team:

I’ve just finished volume two, and am starting volume three, of Winston Churchill’s six-volumeThe Second World War. My fun read isPhotograph, by Ringo Starr.

***

Gretchen Carlson, journalist, author and advocate for sexual harassment survivors:

These are at the top of my reading list:The Moment of Lift, by Melinda Gates, inspiring stories from around the world about women rising up and the greatness that happens when we do;Educated, by Tara Westover, an unbelievable journey of one woman to educate herself that inspires all of us to rekindle that fire in our belly to make the most of our lives (and it happens to be my son’s required reading this summer with parents!);Maid, by Stephanie Land, an empowering story of a woman determined to pull herself up in life through which we all feel stronger; andThe Sun and Her Flowers, by Rupi Kaur, a book of poems, with one of my favorites being:

I stand on the sacrifices of a million women before me thinking what can I do to make this mountain taller so the women after me can see farther.

My beach read isThe Most Fun We Ever Had, by Claire Lombardo, because every family has its issues, and by acknowledging that, we live truer lives and grow as people.

***

Beto O’Rourke, former congressman from Texas, currently a 2020 Democratic presidential candidate:

I’m readingThe Fall of Carthage, by Adrian Goldsworthy, andStorm Lake, by Art Cullen.

***

Ben Shapiro, political commentator, author and editor-in-chief of theDaily Wire:

The Adams-Jefferson Letters, edited by Lester Cappon, is great reminder that despite brutal political disagreements, those who share the founders’ vision are not enemies but brothers. AndThe Last Pirate of New Yorkis a wild ride through Civil War-era American history from Rich Cohen, one of my favorite authors.

***

Alan Dershowitz, professor emeritus at Harvard Law School:

At the top of my reading list right now isShadow Strike, by Yaakov Katz. My guilty pleasure is reading about David Boies “ethics” inBad Blood, by John Carreyrou.

***

Marianne Williamson, 2020 Democratic presidential candidate:

At the top of my list isWar on Peace, by Ronan Farrow. Transitioning from a war economy to a peace economy is high on my list of priorities, which is why as president I plan to establish a U.S. Department of Peace. Our national security agenda should not be guided by corporate profits for defense contractors, but solely by our legitimate security needs. I plan to make that happen. For the lighter read, I’m obsessively rereading anything by Jane Austen.

***

Alicia Garza, writer, co-founder of Black Lives Matter and special projects director for the National Domestic Workers Alliance:

For nonfiction, at the top of my reading list isHow to Be an Antiracist, by Ibram X. Kendi, a powerful follow-up to his first book,Stamped from the Beginning: The Definitive History of Racist Ideas in America. These are two really important books on how race is shaping America and what that means for our future. What’s important to me about these two books is that they not only tell the truth about how racist ideas translate into power, but also provide the counterweight with what we can all do to ensure that everyone gets to live a dignified life.

Unfortunately, my beach read also isn’t light, but it’s excellent nonetheless:A Thousand Splendid Suns, by Khaled Hosseini. Hosseini is a master storyteller, and each one of his characters is so perfectly imperfect and human.

***

Cory Booker, senator from New Jersey and 2020 Democratic presidential candidate:

At the top of my summer reading list isCan’t Hurt Me, by David Goggins, a fun book. Also on my list are:The Soul of America, by John Meacham, which I just finished, andBecome America, by Eric Liu.

***

David Petraeus, retired U.S. Army general and former director of the CIA:

I’ve already begun readingIll Winds, by Larry Diamond, which provides a superb description of the state of democracy in America and around the world—and promises to explain to readers what is needed to shore up democracy at home and abroad. And also at the top of my list isOur Man, by George Packer, which reviewers have praised for its enormous insights not just on Ambassador Richard Holbrooke, with whom I was privileged to partner during his final mission as a diplomat, but also on the three wars in which he played significant roles.

***

Lori Lightfoot, mayor of Chicago:

At the top of my list isBluebird, Bluebirdof the Highway 59 series. I like mysteries, especially if they deal with complicated issues around intersections of race and class. My guilty pleasure/fun reading is the magazine theWeek.

***

Michael Bennet, senator from Colorado and 2020 Democratic presidential candidate:

On my list areThere Will Be No Miracles Here, by Casey Gerald,Frederick Douglass: Prophet of Freedom, by David W. Blight, andThis America: The Case for the Nation, by Jill Lepore.

***

John Delaney, former congressman from Massachusetts, currently a 2020 Democratic presidential candidate:

The books on my summer reading list areEducated,Songs of America,Make Your Bed,The Second MountainandThe Soul of America.

***

Newt Gingrich, former speaker of the House:

Daniel Silva’sThe New Girlis at the top of my reading list. Every Daniel Silva novel is at the top of my reading list, and John Sandford novels are a close second!

***

Shaun King, writer and civil rights activist: At the top of my summer reading list are two essential reads:The Person You Mean to Be: How Good People Fight Bias, by Dolly Chugh, andHow to Be an Antiracist, by Ibram X. Kendi. Both get to the heart of how we can all actually make this world a much better place.

***

Alyssa Mastromonaco, former deputy chief of staff for operations in the Obama White House, author, and senior adviser and spokesperson for NARAL Pro-Choice America:

At the top of my list isLife Will Be the Death of Me, by Chelsea Handler. Chelsea is one of my most supportive friends, and this book is a gift to anyone who is interested in the journey to learn more about yourself, laugh your ass off and cry. Second isHow to Change Your Mind: What the New Science of Psychedelics Teaches Us About Consciousness, Dying, Addiction, Depression, and Transcendence, by Michael Pollan. As someone whose life was changed immeasurably by medical marijuana, I am fascinated by the research and discussion of alternative therapies.

My guilty pleasure read isConfessions of a Prairie Bitch: How I Survived Nellie Oleson And Learned to Love Being Hated, by Alison Arngrim. I love “Little House on the Prairie” and started rewatching it this year. My friend and I did research and found out that Melissa Gilbert and Alison Arngrim were actually inseparable friends. I wanted to know more.

***

Ro Khanna, congressman from California:

Trade and rural America are always on my mind, so I’m currently reading Beth Macy’sFactory Man, about how one Virginia town came together to fight for American manufacturing. The book was a gift from that town’s congressional representative, Morgan Griffith. Our political views don’t always align on every subject, but this is a great opportunity to reach across the aisle for a story of American strength. My guilty pleasure for the summer will be following the Phillies. I try to follow the Warriors, but I started my baseball career playing little league in Bucks County, Pennsylvania, so that’s where my loyalties lie.

***

Gloria Allred, women’s rights attorney:

At the top of my reading list for the summer is the Mueller report. I feel that this is the most important book published this year and that I have a duty to read it in order to understand Russia’s role in the last election for president and why special counsel Robert Mueller felt that he could not exonerate President Donald Trump on charges that he obstructed justice. My guilty pleasure would be to readI Remember Nothing and Other Reflections, by Nora Ephron. I love her wit and honesty, and I know that this book will make me smile, even as I remember that she left this earth too soon.

***

Neal Katyal, former U.S. acting solicitor general and law professor at Georgetown:

At the top of my list is Tara Westover’sEducated. I recently met Tara and was taken by her brilliance and depth, and everyone I know who has read the book raves about it. My guilty pleasure reading is John Grisham’sThe Firm. I’ve got a legal thriller I’ve been dying to write for a dozen years, and I worked out the plot back in 2007. But I want to learn how masters of the genre actually write. Plus, I love books like this.

***

Donna Brazile, political analyst, author and former chair of the DNC:

My list includes George Will’sThe Conservative Sensibility, Henry Louis Gates’Stony the Road, Jennifer Eberhardt’sBiasedand Brittney Cooper’sEloquent Rage. I also have David Baldacci’s latest,Redemption.

***

Jay Inslee, governor of Washington and 2020 Democratic presidential candidate:

Right now, I’m currently reading and enjoyingThe Feather Thief, a caper about a young man who steals bird feathers from a museum in the United Kingdom. I just finished and highly recommendWest with the Night, a memoir by Beryl Markham. It is an incredible adventure story, and one that highlights the power of perseverance. Another book I just finished isFreedom’s Forge, a story about the full-scale mobilization of the U.S. economy to defeat fascism during World War II. This story is especially relevant in this moment we’re in, as we will need that same type of mobilization to defeat the climate crisis.

***

Colin Powell, retired four-star U.S. Army general and former secretary of State:

I’m currently readingThe Back Channel, by Ambassador William J. Burns, andPresidents of War, by Michael Beschloss.

***

Seth Moulton, congressman from Massachusetts and 2020 Democratic presidential candidate:

I’m looking forward to readingLeadership in Turbulent Times, by my friend Doris Kearns Goodwin. I gave signed copies to my staff for the holiday but haven’t had a chance to read it yet myself.

***

Dambisa Moyo, economist and author:

At the top of my list isTrillion Dollar Coach: The Leadership Playbook of Silicon Valley’s Bill Campbell, by Alan Eagle, Eric Schmidt and Jonathan Rosenberg. It’s an insightful book on a man with unique talents and attributes that helped shape one of the most important industries today. My guilty pleasure book isBoom: Mad Money, Mega Dealers, and the Rise of Contemporary Art, by Michael Shnayerson, a fun read on the key players and vagaries of the fascinating contemporary segment of the art market

***

Eric Swalwell, congressman from California and 2020 Democratic presidential candidate:

On my list areAn American Summer, by Alex Kotlowitz, a chronicle of one summer in Chicago’s South Side and the impact of gun violence on a community, andAda Twist, Scientist, by Andrea Beaty, a favorite of my daughter, Cricket. It’s even better when her 2-year-old brother tries reading it to her.

***

William Darity, author, professor of public policy, economics and African and African American studies and director of the Samuel DuBois Cook Center on Social Equity at Duke University:

My recommended serious read for the summer is Tanya Hernández’s bookMultiracials and Civil Rights: Mixed-Race Stories of Discrimination, a superb critical exploration of the evolution and political consequences of multiracial identities in the United States. My guilty pleasure read is Adrienne Maree Brown and Walidah Imarisha’s edited volumeOctavia’s Brood: Science Fiction Stories from Social Justice Movements, a collection of short stories paying homage to the late Octavia Butler.

***

Bill McKibben, author and environmentalist:

I’m reading (rereading, actually, since I got to read a galley a year ago) Richard Powers’The Overstory. Winning the Pulitzer has given it attention, and deservedly. It’s about, in the largest sense, the relationship of people and trees, and it manages the trick of making trees into characters in ways that really expand the boundaries of literature. It’s a book that will be read for generations to come.

I’m almost disinclined to list Kim Stanley Robinson’sNew York 2140as a beach read or guilty pleasure. Usually listed as a science fiction writer, he’s one of the finest writers in any genre at work in America today, and this account of New York once the waters have begun to rise is superb—there are strong notes of Mark Twain, and his usual remarkable insight into how politics could be made to work. It’s also the best book for lovers of our greatest city since, maybe, E.B. White’sHere is New York. A delight.

***

Deray McKesson, author and civil rights activist:

On my list areThe Great Believers, by Rebecca Makkai,Children of Blood and Bone, by Tomi Adeyemi, andThe Poet X, by Elizabeth Acevedo.

***

Charlotte Clymer, writer, U.S. Army veteran and press secretary for the Human Rights Campaign:

While we all wait patiently for the last installment of Robert A. Caro’s phenomenal L.B.J. quintet—please, Mr. Caro, do finish soon; it’s terribly impolite to keep a lady waiting—I have two books at the top of my summer reading list: Rick Atkinson’sThe British Are Coming, the first meaty portion of the Pulitzer Prize-winning historian’s announced trilogy on the Revolutionary War, and Dr. Tressie McMillan Cottom’sThick: And Other Essays, a collection of brilliant musings I keep hearing about from friends.

Doesn’t all pleasure reading feel “guilty” on some level for those of us working in this chaotic political era? Despite her anti-pineapple-on-pizza proclivities, I will likely reread Sarah McBride’sTomorrow Will Be Differentfor the umpteenth time because of her powerful, empathetic and nuanced writing on making history as a trans woman. For dessert: Lauren Wilkinson’s debut novelAmerican Spylooks to be a hell of a thriller, and I’ll be partaking.

***

Charlie Sykes, political commentator, author and editor-in-chief of theBulwark:

I had a big stack of books to read but just got Tim Alberta’sAmerican Carnagein the mail, and now everything else is shelved. Except for Brad Thor’s latest,Backlash.

***

Julian Brave NoiseCat, writer, director of Green New Deal strategy at Data for Progress and narrative change director at the Natural History Museum:

To better understand the troubling times we find ourselves in, I will read my friend and mentor Bill McKibben’s bookFalter. To learn more about policy, politics and history for my ongoing work on the Green New Deal, I have been referring to Ira Katznelson’s tomeFear Itself, about the New Deal and its costs—particularly for people of color. I also just finished my friend Nick Estes’ book,Our History Is the Future, which puts the anti-Dakota Access Pipeline movement at Standing Rock in historical context. The book is, in my view, a significant contribution to environmental justice and the broader left.

On the beach, which, for me, will be more metaphor than physical destination, I’ll turn to some of my favorite journalists in the pages of theNew Yorker. I am particularly excited for Jia Tolentino’s debut,Trick Mirror. The excerpt in a recent issue of the magazine was dazzling. I am also eager to read the pieces collected inShapes of Native Nonfiction, edited by Theresa Warburton and my friend Elissa Washuta. (If I’m honest though, I will likely spend too much time scrolling Twitter, where I gravitate to tastemakers like Cardi B, Lil Nas X, Brother Nature and Hari Nef, to name a few.)

***

Anand Giridharadas, author and editor-at-large forTIME:

I’m currently readingCommon Ground: A Turbulent Decade in the Lives of Three American Families, because busing, racism, white resentment and the search for a way for us to live together are as much with us as in the post-1968 era that J. Anthony Lukas covers. I’m in the early stages of reporting a new book, and in these between times I tend to go back to the nonfiction classics for technique. How do you tell the story of an age intimately through people? I’m also eager to dive into Robin DiAngelo’sWhite Fragility, Jill Lepore’sThis Americaand Shoshana Zuboff’sThe Age of Surveillance Capitalism, which for me will follow the tough act of George Packer’s new masterpiece,Our Man: Richard Holbrooke and the End of the American Century.

***

Anthony Jack, sociologist, author and professor at Harvard Graduate School of Education:

On the top of my list areThere There,Where the Crawdads Sing,What Doesn’t Kill You Makes You BlackerandHeavy: An American Memoir. This summer is about reuniting with narratives and the experience of getting to know oneself in an increasingly unequal and complex world.

***

Helen Zia, journalist, author and activist for LGBTQ and Asian American rights:

Right now, I’m reading three books: an advance copy ofAmerica for Americans: A History of Xenophobia in the United States, by Erika Lee, which is due to be out in a couple of months. It’s an eye-opening look at how today’s demagogues repeat history with their drumbeat of “new immigrants are the scum-of-the earth”—which was employed by Ben Franklin and other “Founding Fathers” against Germans and later to rally hatred toward the Irish, Italians, Mexicans and many others, and also during the ethnic cleansing to rid America of Chinese and Asians, the first legislated “illegal” immigrants. For fun, I’ve been reading Lisa See’s latest novel,The Island of Sea Women, a spellbinding tale of two friends who grow up with Korea’s tumultuous modern history as a backdrop, and Meredith May’s inspirationalThe Honey Bus: A Memoir of Loss, Courage and a Girl Saved by Bees. And I have cued up Min Jin Lee’sPachinko, Viet Thanh Nguyen’sThe Refugeesand Maxine Hong Kingston’s ground-breakingThe Woman Warrior.

***

Joe Sestak, former congressman from Pennsylvania and 2020 Democratic presidential candidate:

At the top of my reading list areThe Last Lion: Winston Spencer Churchill, Defender of the Realm, 1940-1965, by William Manchester and Paul Reid, andWashington, by Ron Chernow. Just an enjoyable read is Fredrik Backman’sA Man Called Ove.

***

Jose Antonio Vargas, journalist, author and filmmaker:

At the top of my list isAmerican Presidents, Deportations, and Human Rights Violations: From Carter to Trump, by Bill Ong Hing. We all must understand the full picture of our country’s modern deportation history. My current guilty pleasure read isOn Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous, by Ocean Vuong. It’s like reading the best kind of dessert: It’s so rich you gotta slow down.

***

Kim Foxx, state’s attorney for Cook County, Illinois:

At the top of my list isMore Than Enough, by Elaine Welteroth. I strongly relate to Elaine’s notion that when you are identified as a first, you have the responsibility to bring your best self, especially to those who challenge your right to be in the space you deserve to be. Also on my list isCharged, by Emily Bazelon. Emily’s unbiased narrative examines the role of prosecutors in advancing criminal justice reform while keeping communities safe.

InStyle Magazineis my guilty pleasure.

***

Wayne Messam, mayor of Miramar, Florida, and 2020 Democratic presidential candidate:

On my book list areBorn a Crime, by Trevor Noah, andCan’t Hurt Me, by David Goggins. I’m interested in Noah’s improbable success coming from South Africa, and, as a former athlete, I’m impressed with Goggins’ military accomplishments and success as an endurance athlete. He’s a living Superman!

My beach read is the Warchant newsletter. I read these updates multiple times per day to get the latest recruiting news about Florida State University Football.

***

Melina Abdullah, civil rights activist, professor and chair of Pan-African studies at California State University, Los Angeles:

On the top of my list isHomegoing, by Yaa Gyasi. It’s a deep and powerful series of interconnected stories of African people from Ghana and their descendants in the Americas, woven together as a painful, beautiful, hugely important novel. It’s a perfect read for this year’s “Year of Return” to Ghana for black people in the diaspora, as 2019 marks 400 years since the beginning of the transatlantic slave trade.

Also on my list isJust Mercy, by Bryan Stevenson. Written in autobiographical form, Stevenson’s work challenges us to examine what justice should look like. His focus on how we treat youth in the justice system is an important companion text to Ava DuVernay’s Netflix series “When They See Us.”

As for my guilty pleasure read, maybe Roxane Gay’sDifficult Women? I love that it’s a collection that allows me to read a bit and feel satisfied before picking it up again, and I love the characters and the humor interwoven into stories that have meaning and challenge oppression.

***

Mike Gravel, former senator from Alaska and 2020 Democratic presidential candidate:

I’ll have to reread Michael Parenti’sAgainst Empire. It’s a classic polemic against the crimes of the U.S. empire, burning with Parenti’s muscular voice and sharp command of the details of infamy. A guilty pleasure is Henry Kissinger, who despite being a moral abomination of a man, writes clearly, coherently and intelligently. ParticularlyDiplomacy.

Produced by Ruairí Arrieta-Kenna and Shawna Chen, art direction by Erin Aulov and Lily Mihalik, and photography by M. Scott Mahaskey.

#Foreign #Politics #Reading #summer

0 notes

rilenerocks · 6 years ago

Text

Merkel Cell Carcinoma slide

Years ago I had a friend who was describing some symptoms that her mother had been experiencing for several weeks. I listened carefully, recognizing that they sounded very similar to those my dad had before being diagnosed with bladder cancer. When she finished talking, I gently and carefully suggested to her that what I heard was sounding a lot like cancer. She looked at me rather nonchalantly and said, “we don’t get cancer in our family.” I was really surprised. She was smart and thoughtful and in a blink just dismissed the most non-discriminating killer on the planet as a possible cause for the nagging problems. Within a year, her mother was dead from her bladder cancer, after putting off appointments over and over because cancer wasn’t part of their history.

Cancer is the original equal opportunity employer. Cancer isn’t sexist. Cancer isn’t racist. Cancer is nondenominational. Cancer doesn’t care what you believe about life or death. Cancer doesn’t care about your looks or your smarts or your interests. Cancer just is. Cancer can fell anyone, no matter your strength or your attitude. Cancer isn’t a fight. At least not a fair one. When people die from cancer, they’re not losers. They haven’t lost their battles. They’ve just been overcome by an elusive, stealthy biological mystery, that in their cases, had no true known answer to its mutable abilities. Cancer is endlessly surprising. As cognitive beings, we naturally search for answers and reasons for what we can’t understand or what we didn’t expect. Everyone gets to decide what’s best for them. We found our own way through cancer.

Michael knew that skin cancer ran in his family and was vigilant about using sunscreen, seeing his dermatologist every three months and attacking any suspicious spots by excision or medications. My big, strong husband, who was everyone’s hero, was felled anyway. Cancer liked his body and his immune system couldn’t do a thing about it. Cancer started growing and played a 5 year cat and mouse game with my guy.

We knew from the initial diagnosis that the likelihood of him surviving his orphan cancer was small. Reading the Merkel Cell website the day of our life-changing phone call was grim. We had an instant flash of recognition-our world was forever changed.

Both of us, different in so many ways and virtually identical in others, got ready fast, an especially tough trick for Michael who always moved slowly. The big joke between us was him saying, “Would you mind removing your feet from my back?” as I blazed past him. But he knew this was different and that speed was mandatory. We learned everything we could and followed best practices, with multiple medical opinions from the top experts in their field. We had a genetic analysis of his tumor tissue. He tried one treatment after another. I wrote every principal investigator of every clinical trial I found on the Clinicaltrials.gov website. About half of them answered me and they consulted with each other about our case. We realized they were doing their best to brainstorm for a viable solution to this disease. But there wasn’t one. Michael had eighteen rounds of a potent cocktail of chemo drugs. Over 5 years, he had 75 radiation treatments.

For 45 of them he wore a molded facial mask which was then bolted to a table to keep him still while he was blasted with rays. He took shots to support his bones which weaken during treatment. He tried a targeted therapy, aimed at a genetic mutation. His skin erupted in an astonishing rash that covered his back and torso and eventually elevated his liver enzymes. Just as well, as the drug cost was astonishing and economically prohibitive.

His tiny skin cancer jumped into his lymphatic system, and over time, showed up in bones all over his body causing an agonizing spinal cord compression. More and more skin lesions popped up on his head, his neck and his groin. We went to Barnes in St. Louis to try to get him in a clinical trial for one of the new immunological drugs. He was rejected, an unconscionable decision that was impossibly hard to absorb. Eventually our local oncologist was so desperate, he applied for the drug pembrolizumab or Keytruda, which was magically approved because of Michael’s terrible prognosis.

And suddenly, within less than two weeks, the tumors began to disappear. He was to be a miracle responder, one of the small number who manage to wind up in the success cohort. Within a few months, he was well, normal even. All through the various treatments, he’d had positive responses which gained us months that we used as a compressed retirement. With the prospect of death always threatening in the background, we chose to spend lots of private time together, traveling and making memories which would sustain me. We spent as much time as we could with our family, reveling in the everyday moments, a dinner, lounging in the afternoon on our kids’ back deck, going to movies or just reading in the same room.

Suddenly it seemed anything was possible. But after 6 months of treatment, Michael had a profound spike in his liver enzymes. Our doctor felt compelled to stop treatment. I argued vociferously against this as he was taking other medications which could have caused the liver issues. Knowing that his disease could get active at any time, the doctor thought we should do a challenge to see what would happen. The next thing we knew, he was gone, the second oncologist we lost in a few years. So we started over with a new one.

Each oncologist has a personal perspective and I knew right away that our new doctor was a more cautious individual than the previous one. She was opposed to taking the risk of a challenge and instead recommended continued scanning every three months. The year 2016 was treatment-free and we cautiously continued to make the most of our time. But any moment when Michael was ill, whether with a cold or a dreaded case of shingles, I was alarmed at what I saw as a failure of his immune system. By December of that year, his behavior was getting a bit peculiar. I was frightened and in January, we had two doctor appointments and scans which indicated absence of disease. I couldn’t believe it. Michael was behaving oddly and changing perceptibly. After 45 years together, there are the things you just know. After a scary night less than 4 days after receiving a clean scan, I called the oncologist in the morning to say I was going to get him into the ER for a brain MRI, the one test he’d never had. The doctor said that those tests were hard to get in emergency, but I was absolutely determined and used all the trust we’d built over the years to get Michael to go with me to the hospital. By the end of the day, we had the test results which showed a brain cancer presentation that could only be likened to meningitis. The doctors said he had central nervous system lymphoma. I knew they were wrong. I fought back because I knew it was Merkel cell which is what it had always been, from his first biopsy to his last. Most people with that metastatic disease just didn’t live long enough for the medical professionals to see what the disease looked like in the brain. An average lifespan following his diagnosis was 4 weeks. Most people go directly to hospice. But Michael had triumphed before. He chose a combination of awful whole brain radiation and Keytruda and managed to survive for 17 weeks.

After a long hospital stay of 32 days and nights together, we managed to get home. For years, we’d discussed how he wanted to die. First and foremost, of course, he wanted to stay alive. But absent that option, he wanted to die as undiminished as possible, not wasted away to a shell. And he wanted to be in his home, out of a medical venue, in the space where we’d led our lucky life. He sadly wondered if he’d ever have another good day, one in which he could feel okay.

His desires became my mission. With endless encouragement, prodding and the most ingenious protein shakes I could concoct, we stayed at home and for the most part he still looked strong, with good color, not wasted. One lovely April day, we managed to get across the street to our daughter’s home to spend the afternoon, to sit together with our grandchildren and go back to our own house, content with that feeling of normalcy. Our son who was abroad, working on a postdoc, managed to stop his work and get home so he could share the last days of Michael’s life. He died a year ago today, peacefully, quietly and unwillingly, with me beside him, holding his hand.

I will always wonder about the might-have-beens. There were so many steps in our journey when a small adjustment could have made a difference. I used all of my powers, intellectual, emotional and persuasive to push things outside the box of standard medical care. I learned more about cancer and medicine than I ever dreamed would have been possible for me, always a wordsmith, never a scientist. I don’t know what could’ve happened, if only. All I know is that cancer ultimately presented its final invoice to us, the price being Michael’s life which he lived and loved so well.

This past year has been full of many different experiences for me. I’ve been out in the world and also by myself. A lot. I’m deep inside myself exploring, probing and searching for my own answers, for a way to live that feels right for me. I remain in love with Michael. I expect I always will be. We had a bond that could withstand everything life tossed against it.

One of his favorite movies was The Ghost and Mrs. Muir. He watched it almost any time it appeared on late night tv. The story is one of a widow who occupies the home of a sea captain who’s died, but insists on being in his house with her, as if she’s the invader of his personal space. Of course, this isn’t a perfect metaphor for what happened to us. But I often feel that we will be in our home together, until it’s my turn to be done with whatever lies ahead of me.

I didn’t know I could survive a minute, a week or a whole year without Michael. But here I am, still alive and evidently destined to go forward. So I will, holding him in my heart and feeling the buoyancy of his presence which shows up unexpectedly and fills me with sensations I’m learning to accept as my new normal. As Eleanor Roosevelt said, “You must do the thing which you think cannot do.” That’s exactly what I’m doing. The magic that Michael and I built helps me. One minute, one week, one year. On I go, on we go. I miss him every day. Almost another full year has passed since I wrote this blog post. I still feel virtually the same as I did back then. I remain in love with Michael and I’m still mystified by the incredible connection that lives on between us, though he’s been dead almost two years. I’m still thinking away. And I’ve learned some things about cancer and what it can and can’t do. I wanted to share my reflections in the hope that they’ll help someone out there who’s having a similar experience.

First, my interest in the biological underpinnings of cancer has stuck with me. I still read a lot of scientific articles and have taken a number of science classes in the past year. Molecular biology had a big impact on me. I recognize that Michael’s cancer was a remarkably successful organism. That may sound odd, but the truth is, it managed to adapt and survive multiple forms of treatment and roar back stronger time after time. More than ever, I understand the complexity of trying to cure a disease that’s alive and mutating constantly. Knowing that no matter what a person’s attitude and strengths may be, there are some creatures that survive no matter what, changes the way you think about cancer. People who die from cancer aren’t losers and didn’t do anything wrong with their attitudes. They’re just overmatched. Individualized treatment seems to be the only real solution and in American medicine, that’s a heavy lift.

Secondly, for some of us caregivers, the trauma of the illness and death process leaves a state of mind that can only be likened to PTSD. I see the vestiges of all those desperate days in myself. I have sleep issues and still find myself stunned to realize that Michael is really dead. I can roll over in the night and wake myself, worried that I might be disturbing my guy and then remembering he’s gone. I’ve turned into somewhat of a germaphobe. I was so worried all the time about some random infection that might hurt Michael. So I’m always looking at how people sneeze or cough into their hands and touch surfaces, wanting to spray everything with Lysol and carrying Purell everywhere. I wonder if I’ll ever stop doing this neurotic stuff.

But there is the upside. Learning to live in every moment has stuck with me. I’m much better at keeping my perspective and not getting bowled over by the small stuff. I’m more mindful about how I choose to spend my time and with whom. I don’t want to waste any of it. I want to be the best version of myself. I spend time with my family. I spend time trying to take care of my friendships that have proved sustaining and meaningful. I appreciate nature every day. I garden in my attempt to create habitat for lots of animals while donating beauty to my surroundings. I read and I listen to lots of music. I try to learn something new and every day. I’m politically and socially engaged and I share my views and feelings in multiple ways. My life isn’t empty – it’s just less full.

I didn’t know what I’d be like without Michael. After 45 years together, I’m keenly aware that there’s not enough time in my life to ever experience anything that will ever approach the magnitude of what we shared. But I’m making an effort to compile our stories and share them with our children and their children, the ones here and the ones to come. Our saga is rich, and while we will wind up as dust mixed together in our garden, our history will live on. I’m satisfied with that assignment I’ve given myself and it motivates me to work even on the saddest days. I’ve made it through our anniversary this month. Upcoming are my birthday, the anniversary of his death and Michael’s birthday. They’ll be hard but easier than last year. The magical and inexplicable presence I feel with me every day helps. As a pretty grounded, realistic person, I never imagined I could feel such an ethereal companion. But whatever. As Michael frequently said, it is what it is. The good news is I’m finding a way forward that has brought quality to my life. In the end, there is life after cancer robs you. Who knew?

Cancer’s Final Invoice -Redux. Merkel Cell Carcinoma slide Years ago I had a friend who was describing some symptoms that her mother had been experiencing for several weeks.

0 notes