#overshoes

[robertbrancatelli]

"Gosh, Galoshes!"

So, there I was the other day, minding my own business as I usually do, when all of a sudden I heard someone exclaim, “Gosh, galoshes!” I turned around to find a large, dark woman in a red and white striped dress and blue raincoat. She carried an orange umbrella and wore gobs of makeup with lashes like Kim Kardashian’s. It had been raining, so she also sported rain boots–yellow–that could have…

[spatzwearltd]

Best Cycling Overshoes are indispensable gears for serious cyclists who are often on the road in all types of weather, using them to protect and warm their feet. For picking the best shoes you should look for such options as waterproofing, insulation, durability, and compatibility with your cycling shoes.

[qupritsuvwix]

Still make it when I’m allowed in the kitchen.

[necromycologist]

[powerhungry 16th century spanish chancellor voice] my liege Ofcourse my chopines must be raised to a slightly higher altitude than yours. tis simply so i may communicate my missives to you

really short evil advisor desperately trying to find platforms high enough so they can whisper sinisterly into their kings ear

[amygdalae]

"The franchise and the virus work on the same principle: what thrives in one place will thrive in another. You just have to find a sufficiently virulent business plan, condense it into a three-ring binder--its DNA--xerox it, and embed it in the fertile lining of a well-traveled highway, preferably one with a left-turn lane. Then the growth will expand until it runs up against its property lines.

In olden times, you'd wander down to Mom's Cafe for a bite to eat and a cup of joe, and you would feel right at home. It worked just fine if you never left your hometown. But if you went to the next town over, everyone would look up and stare at you when you came in the door, and the Blue Plate special would be something you didn't recognize. If you did enough traveling, you'd never be at home anywhere.

But when a businessman from New Jersey goes to Dubuque, he knows he can walk into a McDonald's and no one will stare at him. He can order without having to look at the menu, and the food will always taste the same. McDonald's is Home, condensed into a three-ring binder and xeroxed. "No surprises" is the motto of the franchise ghetto, its Good Housekeeping seal, subliminally blazoned on every sign and logo that make up the curves and grids of light that outline the Basin.

The people of America, who live in the world's most surprising and terrible country, take comfort in that motto. Follow the loglo outward, to where the growth is enfolded into the valleys and the canyons, and you find the land of the refugees. They have fled from the true America, the America of atomic bombs, scalpings, hip-hop, chaos theory, cement overshoes, snake handlers, spree killers, space walks, buffalo jumps, drive-bys, cruise missiles, Sherman's March, gridlock, motorcycle gangs, and bungee jumping. They have parallel-parked their bimbo boxes in identical computer-designed Burbclave street patterns and secreted themselves in symmetrical sheetrock shitholes with vinyl floors and ill-fitting woodwork and no sidewalks, vast house farms out in the loglo wilderness, a culture medium for a medium culture."

--Neal Stephenson, Snow Crash

[permettez-moi]

5. Alone

His mind still fuzzy from deep sleep, Will rolled over to the other side of the bed. The cold sheets worked like a cold plunge, waking him up immediately as the events of the previous day came back to him.

Fire, screams, the scent of burned flesh.

He buried his head in her pillow, not wanting to leave the bed yet, not wanting to face the unbearable truth just yet. As long as he lay here, he could pretend she got up early. Had a nightmare perhaps. The sweet hints of her perfume comforted him, in a way that should not hurt as much as it did. The knowledge that soon her smell would be gone, and nothing but his memory would be left. He felt a wave of nausea coming up, only just barely suppressed by closing his lips firmly. Jaw clenched.

The house was quiet, unusually so. Normally there would be soft and stinky morning kisses, words grumbled by a woman not yet ready for the day. The swish of her dressing gown, creaking of the shutters being opened. Will lay there, silent, waiting for a sound. Any sound that proved she was not gone. Dead. No such sound came. The quiet was no longer peaceful, but heavy. Lonely. It wasn’t until he heard Tugs worried whinnying that he dragged himself out of bed. He too heard they- he wasn’t up yet.

Opening the door to the empty cabin took all he had to give. Out of habit, Will walked towards the kitchen, grabbing the coffee beans, grinder and cups. He got to work measuring out the beans. Added a spoonful of honey to his own cup, realised he had taken two, and froze. He stared at her brown stained cup, thinking about how she would cradle it. How he would get the first smile of the day when he handed it to her. The cup left behind on the counter, Will trudged over to the fire, which was still out, kettle still cold. That was, Alyss’ job in the mornings. Putting the kettle in the hot coals, adding a single log to keep it alive was typically all she could get her to do before her morning coffee. Will could feel bile rise, looking at the cold fireplace, the shells and stones collected from her travels displayed on the mantle. The room started warping, spinning. His head buzzed with words he could not yet decipher, his stomach roiling with grief. He turned away, only to see her small desk, left behind as if she would walk in at any moment, pick up where she left off. The wooden carving he made her once used as a paperweight. As quick as he could, he fled outside for air, taking a hold of the door frame, letting the brisk morning cool his head, gather his thoughts. ‘she’s gone she’s gone she’s gone she’s gone she’s gone she’s gone she’s gone she’s gone.’ He rubbed his hands over his face, trying to get the thoughts out, ‘she’s dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Murdered. Murdered. Murdered. Burned alive. Murdered’. His head spun once again, his vision blacked out, the hole world seemed to stand still all of a sudden, while he kept turning. Stumbling forward he sat down in the rocking chair on the veranda. Her rocking chair. He closed his eyes, panicked, the world wouldn’t stop blacking out, fading. Deep breaths. What do you hear, Will? The horses. birds. rustling trees. the creaking of the chair. his own breathing. What do you see, Will? Opening his eyes carefully, he saw the grass. wildflowers. a trail of some brave bunnies. Alyss’ overshoes. What do you smell, Will? He took a deep breath, steadying himself. Averting his eyes from the mud caked shoes. The horses. morning dew. his own sweat. No coffee, no lingering perfume from the day before. No. Stop. Come on. Will, be stern with yourself. Focus. What do you taste, Will? His morning breath. The fresh air. What do you feel, Will? Despair.

Will closed his eyes, and wept.

The life he had dreamed of, the woman he had never deserved. The peace of mind and softness of life. It had all been ripped, burned, away from him. What would happen with her now? Was there a God out there willing to take her? Keep her safe? Was there even a God out there? If so, how could it smite him with this. Had he done wrong? Had he not always tried to be the best he could? Was she safe?

His heart gutted at the idea, the knowledge that there was nothing out there. Raised in the ward, and then by Halt, Will did not believe in such things as Gods. At least not the kind that created heavens. It tore him apart. If he could believe, maybe he could grieve better. Take comfort from the knowledge that she would at least be okay. That she would still be. All he got was the emptiness left behind by the past, the future.

He tried to refocus his thoughts. What do you see, Will? Her shoes. Her blanket. Her chair. Her favourite flowers. Her book, left behind on the summer evening. He failed to refocus his thoughts. She was everywhere. This little cabin was their world. She was his world.

Will stared out into the forest, thinking about the one thing that wouldn’t get him thinking about her. Nothing at all.

[cinemaocd]

So apparently they still are called thongs in Australia. My grandfather was born and raised in Australia...that might explain it....It was yet another Heat family Australianism that worked its way into our midwestern vocabulary...

Every once in a while I am slammed with the reality that flip flops used to be called thongs....

[petaltexturedskies]

Hyacinth and daffodil bloomed in the flower beds, violet and periwinkle in the meadows; damp, betraggled white butteflies fluttered drunkenly in the hedgerows. I put away my winter coat and overshoes and walked around, nearly light-headed with joy, in the my shirtsleeves.

Donna Tartt, The Secret History

[rabbit-flaying]

Hello there! I have submitted this prompt to a few creators, however, no one responds. Maybe you'd like to take a crack at it? I love your blog and the idea that you boost less viewed artists.

An immortal whumpee that is chained down underwater, forced to drown time and time again.

That's all, thank you!

Aw, thanks♡ I hope you like this one. I had fun writing it.

Whumpcember Day 13: Trauma

Content Warning: drowning, childhood near death experience, ptsd, allusions to organized crime

This was how she had died the first time. Before discovering she was immortal and would heal from anything.

It had been a warm, sunny day on the beach. In those days, she had been quite the swimmer. She swam out as far in on the lake as she could manage, not discouraged by the waves or slimy, creepy fish brushing against her legs.

Then she dove down, determined to touch the bottom. She found herself lost in a forest of kelp, and her only sense of direction was to fight against buoyancy trying to drag her to the surface. She clung to the kelp, using it as an anchor.

It was only when her hands touched the sandy bottom of the lake that she became aware of the kelp tangled about her limbs. It was impossible to escape, tightening as she thrashed, desperate and wild from lack of air.

Sunlight streamed through the surface of the water, almost forty feet above her, the lake taunting her as her vision faded.

She was dead, age fourteen, outlived by her parents and younger brother. At least, that was what the papers said until she woke up in a mortuary.

Her life from there on was defined by excitement and daring. She could do anything she desired, knowing no injury would stick. Even death was impermanent.

But still she avoided water, and a stressful day always ended with restless sleep and visions of water and kelp.

How, then, had she ended up here? Her hands chained behind her back and her feet clad in concrete overshoes. Standing beside a slime covered post holding up the dock she had been pushed from.

Maybe she had just pissed off the wrong people. Or maybe this was all a mistake. It didn’t really matter now.

Her lungs were flooded with icy salt water. Murk robbed her of her senses. She had no idea how long she had been down here, only that she had died of hypothermia or drowning sixteen times already. Counting was the only thing keeping her sane.

Would someone be here to rescue her? They might dredge the bay, looking for her or some other missing person. Perhaps a swimmer would find her. Someone had to, eventually.

Or maybe she would be here forever. As her visions faded for a seventeenth time, the only coherent thought she could muster was of how much that would suck.

Event: @whumpcember

[neosaurs]

lunar overshoe - worn by astronauts over the main spacesuit boots

this is the type of shoe responsible for the first footprint on the moon left by neil armstrong in 1969. its also cute as hell

sources x x

[stephensmithuk]

The Sign of Four: The Baker Street Irregulars

I'm rather behind with these and will be for a while.

London had many, many wharfs; the number topped out at around 1,700.

London would have had a huge number of boats and ships of varying types plying the Thames at this point, moving cargo and people back and forth - it could be quicker than going by horse depending on the traffic. Today, the number is far smaller, mostly consisting of tourist vessels, the Thames Clipper passenger services that are part of the TfL network and tenders carrying rubbish.

Coke is a hard, grey fuel created by heating coal or oil in the absence of oxygen. It produces much less smoke than regular coal, allow most homes and other operations didn't use it at this point. Hence the yellow fog...

It takes quite a while to warm up a steam boiler; you're generally looking at two to three hours for a steam locomotive before it can be used.

A wherry is a small boat with a sail and oars used for transporting people on rivers like the Thames. The long bow makes it easier for passengers to get on and off on a shoreline without getting their shoes wet.

Millbank Penitentiary was a prison that had formerly held those due to be transported to Australia and then became a local prison, followed by a military one. It had ceased to hold prisoners in 1886, closed entirely in 1890 and was mostly demolished soon after that. Many of its red bricks were reused for housing as the Millbank Estate and the Tate Britain is also on the site.

"A tanner" is six pence, or half a shilling. "Three bob and a tanner" means 3 shillings and six pence, which is what Wiggins paid for the bus tickets.

Not sure about the whole sandal thing, but the Special Operations Executive, themselves known as the "Baker Street Irregulars" due to their HQ's location, developed special overshoes in the shape of bare feet to deceive the Japanese into thinking they were barefooted locals when leaving footprints.

Bushmen is an older and still sometimes used term for the San people of southern Africa, one of the oldest hunter-gatherer peoples on the planet. Much of the rest of the stuff about height seems a lot of racist rubbish.

[meilas]

Socks’ Star Trek must-watch list

Socks’ list of must-watch Trek episodes

OG Trek

Welcome to the NCC-1701 starship, known as the Enterprise. The captain and crew follow rules when the plot says so, the captain is often on away missions with his top-ranked crew members leaving some unqualified guy in charge, and the captain gets to snog a lot of ladies. Like, a lot. Seriously. This series features lots of questionable fashion choices, including men’s heeled boots and miniskirts. 

Space Seed - our introduction to Khan Noonien Singh, played by Ricardo Montalban. Khan is the villain of the second Trek movie Wrath of Khan which is why this episode is on the list.

Taste of Armageddon - Do you remember the game Battleship? Two planets wage a war against each other. There is staggering loss of life, but no destruction. The Lottery in Space.

Mirror, Mirror - obligatory parallel universe episode! This parallel universe shows up later in Deep Space Nine which is why it is on this list.

Trouble With Tribbles - Clue in Space. Just a fun episode. Also shows up in Deep Space Nine!

A Piece of the Action - another fun episode. And the reason I don’t know if the proper expression is concrete galoshes or cement overshoes.

Let That Be Your Last Battlefield - two individuals who are the very last members of their races who were at war are still trying to kill each other. This episode was about racism and it is not subtle about it at all.

Next Generation

Welcome to the NCC-1701D, also known as the Enterprise! Not the Enterprise from the original series, but a younger, more advanced starship that is the successor to the Enterprise name. And since the Enterprise and trouble go so well together, the crew of this Enterprise find lots of adventures to keep them busy as they explore strange new worlds and seek out new civilisations.

Encounter at Farpoint - The very first episode. Not great, but it also serves as an introduction to Q, who will show up several times throughout the series. So that I don’t fill up this whole post, just go ahead and watch every Q episode (which will 99% of the time have Q in the title.)

Measure of a Man - Data is put on trial to determine if he is property or his own person, and Riker is forced to testify against him for plot reasons. This episode explores individuality and friendship.

Q Who - I said I wouldn’t fill this up and I won’t, but this episode is special because it introduces the Borg. There’s also a great moment between Picard and Q toward the end.

The Survivors - An elderly couple are the last survivors on a planet. Hard to explain why I like this episode without giving away the whole plot.

Sarek - This episode can be pretty sad as it deals with dementia and what it can do to people.

Menage a Troi - Any episode with Deanna’s mother, Lwaxana, is always a funny one. (Except the one that is sad, more on that later.) This episode is excellent because we get to hear Sir Patrick Stewart recite Shakespeare in the most over-the-top delivery possible.

Best of Both Worlds, parts one and two - THE CLIFFHANGER TO END ALL CLIFFHANGERS HOLY SHIT THIS EPISODE HAS ALL THE DRAMA

Family - A follow-up to Best of Both Worlds. Deals with family that is gone, family that can be A Bit Much, and family that is estranged.

Suddenly Human - This episode is similar to the Deep Space Nine episode Cardassians: a boy who has been adopted by others is discovered and found to have living family who want him back. Which family is the child supposed to stay with?

Darmok - An episode all about language and how ideas are communicated. Yes it has some flaws, but overall it is interesting from a linguistic point of view. By the end of the episode, you will understand how darmok=memes and inside jokes.

The First Duty - A good Wesley episode. This explores truth, loyalty, and doing what is right.

I, Borg - The Enterprise rescues a Borg teenager, who begins to develop individuality. He is named Hugh. Hugh is adorable.

The Inner Light - THIS IS THE BEST EPISODE EVER. IF THERE IS LITERALLY NOTHING ON THIS LIST THAT SOUNDS INTERESTING PLEASE AT LEAST WATCH THIS.

Rascals - Picard and a few other randos (no seriously why is this bunch of people even on a shuttle together?) experience a transporter malfunction and are beamed aboard the Enterprise, except they materialise as pre-teen children! This episode is just pure fun. Contains: bby!Picard throwing a tantrum, and bby!Guinan jumping on the bed.

*Frame of Mind - This is a pretty heavy episode that deals with hallucinations. Riker is supposed to be performing in a play, but suddenly he’s in an alien mental institution and accused of murder. Riker repeatedly flashes between being on the Enterprise and being in the institution and he increasingly cannot tell which is real.

*Technically, this episode does not contain gaslighting even though it will seem like it. Please make sure you are in a good place if you decide to watch this episode.

**Dark Page - Lwaxana Troi is back! But something is up with her.

**I can’t explain why this is a serious episode without giving it away, so here it is: this episode deals with child death.

Deep Space Nine

By far my absolute favourite series, and the only one I have seen every episode of. Deep Space Nine is about a Cardassian space station that is now occupied by joint Federation and Bajoran forces. Deep Space Nine just so happens to be situated right by a stable wormhole that goes to another quadrant of space that would take years and years and years to travel to by starship alone. Naturally, everyone wants to be in control of the wormhole. The closest planet, Bajor, was until recently occupied by Cardassians. (Think of Cardassians as Space Russians.) The Bajorans are deeply spiritual people (literally every fucking Bajoran subscribes to the same religion) and they believe that their gods reside in the wormhole. (THEY ARE WORMHOLE ALIENS FFS AND THEY DON’T CARE ONE BIT ABOUT BAJOR OR CARDASSIA OR THE FEDERATION.) Because this series is set on a space station that does not go anywhere, we get to see that actions have consequences. If Next Generation was the fuck around series, this one is the find out series.

Emissary - A two-parter and our introduction to Deep Space Nine and the majority of the major characters in this show. 

Past Prologue - This episode is important because we meet Garak, a tailor and the only Cardassian still living on the station. What could he possibly be doing here?

Duet - A Cardassian arrives at the station, as they often do, but this one seems to be hiding something. This explores topics of colonialism, genocide, terrorism, and how complicated people really are. This was one of the episodes that made me watch the entirety of DS9. (The other was Take Me Out to the Holosuite.)

Cardassians - Another Garak episode. This one has a similar plot to the Next Generation episode Suddenly Human. Garak and Bashir discover a Cardassian boy is the adopted son of a Bajoran man. But since Bajorans and Cardassians kind of hate each other because Cardassions tried to colonize Bajor, there is a concern that the Cardassian boy is being abused by his adopted father. To make matters worse, Gul Dukat gets involved. (Gul Dukat is played by a native Wisconsinite!)

Shadowplay - Kind of similar to the Next Generation episode Survivors.

The Wire - Garak episode! This episode deals with the topic of addiction and friendship.

Second Skin - Kira might actually be an undercover Cardassian agent?!?

Crossover - Welcome back to the mirror universe, which we haven't seen since the OG series. Here we find out what happened after Kirk left that universe. Told you this was the 'find out' series.

Fascination - A fun Lwaxana episode

Past Tense, parts one and two - Time travel episode! This episode takes place August 30-September 1, 2024. The Bell Riots occurred in San Francisco, and were a turning point in earth history. These are pretty heavy episodes, and they deal with things that still resonate today: poverty, racism, classism, homelessness.

The Visitor - Similar vibes to The Inner Light. Sisko jumps through time at increasing intervals. Meanwhile, Jake lives his life with his father literally popping into existance for a short time only. Jake is older every time. Sisko is not.

Trials and Tribble-ations - The 'find out' episode to OG Trek's Trouble With Tribbles. This is just a really cool episode that blends footage from OG Trek with DS9.

Things Past - An interesting episode where some of the crew wake up in the bodies of people living on the station during the Cardassian occupation.

Ties of Blood and Water - Kira's Cardassian "father" (the guy from Second Skin) arrives on the station.

In the Cards - Jake and Nog do increasingly weird tasks in their quest to obtain a baseball card for Jake's father. Oh and that bitch Kai Winn is there too.

Statistical Probabilities - This episode introduces the Jack Pack! They're a bunch of genetically altered humans, just like Bashir! Oh, and they are extremely neurodivergent and would probably be tons of fun to hang out with.

Far Beyond the Stars - The crew, but what if they were science fiction writers in the 50s? Deals with the topic of racism.

In the Pale Moonlight - How far is Sisko willing to go to get the Romulans to join the war against the Dominion?

Take Me Out to the Holosuite - One of DS9's obligatory holosuite episodes. A Vulcan that Sisko knows shows up and in a very un-Vulcan-like manner boasts to Sisko that he and his crew are superior beings who have been trying Sisko's favorite sport and just absolutely crushing it. Sisko challenges him to a baseball game. The only problem is that most of his crew are not human and have never played baseball before.

Chrysalis - Have you ever read Flowers for Algernon? The Jack Pack returns.

[adelemadouce]

Orchids in Winter

The next morning, I was woken up by Camille. "Madame, it's me! The Grand Marshal has sent a note to say that you are already in the palace!" Camille's cheeks glowed red under her white bonnet. She took off her cloak and stepped out of her overshoes. "Monsieur Duchâtel is very upset, he asked me if I knew why you didn't come home!" I yawned, stood up, took the nightcap off my head and began to pull the papillotes out of my hair. "What did you tell him?" Camille shrugged her shoulders. "Well, what did I say? That you were warming the Emperor's bed!" I slapped her butt. "You did not!" She laughed. "No. But Monsieur triumphantly announced to us all that the Emperor whispered something in your ear yesterday!" I sighed. "...and of course this is a world-shattering event for Duchâtel!" Camille filled the wash basin with hot water while I sat in the small cabinet and emptied my bladder. Afterwards she washed me with rose soap. Camille brushed my teeth and polished my nails. I felt refreshed and put on my silk panthalons. "Go, have breakfast now...he'll be here soon!" Camille looked at my naked breasts. "I hope the Emperor enjoys his breakfast!" What a cheeky thing she was! But that's also why I loved Camille.

I was brushing my long curls when I heard the scratching at the door. I went to open it and let in a storm! At first I was shocked by the Emperor's pale face, distorted with anger. I knew immediately that something was wrong and found my half-naked body inappropriate. But because my long hair covered my naked breast I didn't think to reach for a piece of clothing. The Emperor passed by me, already dressed, wearing his escarpins but no uniform. He sat down on the bed, looked at me and yelled: "I should have fucked you all night instead hoping to lie in that old goat's cold bed!" I approached him and raised my hands in despair: "Sire...please...you mustn't speak so loudly!" The Emperor looked at me with piercing eyes. I had never seen him so threatening! But I immediately felt that none of this was directed at me. "I want to scream even louder...and I don't care who hears it!" When he noticed my shaking, he calmed down. He folded his arms over his chest and pressed his lips together. After a while he said in a moderate tone: "Last night I went down to the Empress. She received me at the very last step and snapped (the Emperor imitated Joséphine's voice): 'Ahh well, Monsieur...was she at least pretty?'" A dangerous spark glowed in his eyes. "She thought I came from a woman!" He raised his head and added loudly: "After I've fucked a pretty girl, I won't even visit my wife anymore! The Empress should know that!" He only used this choice of words when he was very, very angry. Then his expression changed again. He looked sad. He timidly took my hand and pulled me to him, then he buried his face on my belly and put his arms around my waist. "Why is she tormenting me like this? Her jealousy is destroying everything!" It hurt me to see him suffer. I caressed his face, bent down and kissed him. "My love...my poor darling!" I knew my words comforted him. He pulled me onto his lap. "I don't know how much longer this is going to go on. She drives me to the limit!" I kissed him again and said: "Perhaps the Empress just needs a change! It will be good if she goes to Malmaison for a few days. And then the New Year will begin and there will be new hope for happiness!" The Emperor smiled weakly. He looked up at me. "You sweet angel! You're still protecting her...yes, maybe you're right!" We kissed. Again, very longingly. "How much time do we have left?" he asked. I looked at the little clock. "Ten minutes!" I answered. "Do you want to..., Adèle?" I nodded immediately and stood up. When the Emperor saw how quickly I took off my panthalons, he jumped up from the bed, grabbed my arm and pushed me to the dresser. His hands firmly gripped my buttocks, he lifted me onto the dresser, I opened my legs and felt him penetrate me up to the base! In those ten minutes he took me to paradise... Oh, I was also very pleased that I (and my dresser!) had managed to calm him down again. Before he left me, he took my panthalons and pointed to the seam in the crotch. "Do me a favor and unpick that seam!" He pressed the silk pants into my hand, kissed me and left.

At about half past ten I entered the Empress's chambers. Églée and a few other ladies were already there. The Empress was still getting ready. "Come on, Adèle, tell me...what did he whisper to you?" Églée giggled and pinched my side. "...that the Emperor and I can do it better than you and your Michel!" She had no idea that this was the truth. Églée laughed out loud. "You liar!" She put her arm around my shoulders. "Come on, tell me..." One of the red ladies appeared. She was one of the Empress's wardrobe maids. There were four ladies, they all wore a kind of livery, red dresses. "The Empress wishes to see Madame Duchâtel," said the red lady. My heart was pounding. Églée let go of me. "Now you have to tell her!" I walked towards the red lady and followed her into Her Majesty's dressing room. It was foggy and cloudy outside, soft grey light came through the windows, that's why many candles had been lit in the Empress's chambers. In this golden light, everything looked even more beautiful; the precious white furniture, the cream-coloured velvet curtains with thousands of little golden bees, long-stemmed white roses with white peacock feathers, white ermine furs on thick Aubusson carpets. And the large painting of the First Consul... In the middle of the room I sank into a deep, graceful curtsy. Joséphine's pugs came running up to me, whining. I stroked them. The Empress herself stood in front of a Psyche, which was a large oval mirror, and admired her dress in it. She saw me in the mirror. "Adèle, my dear child!" Aunt Joséphine came to me, I stood up and she kissed me on both cheeks. She looked beautiful, but her eyes clearly showed that she had cried a lot. "Your Majesty!" I gave her my best smile. "How are you, Adèle? How are your little ones...? Sit down and tell me everything!" I went to a small canapée, then suddenly I saw Hortense and Émilie sitting at a small desk. Before I sat down I greeted princess Louis with a small curtsy. Hortense looked at me for a long time; she herself was very pale. It was said that she had not yet fully recovered from giving birth. The ladies were dressed for travelling. I was also surprised that none of the powder puffs were present.

In addition to the red ladies, there were also the black ladies. They all buzzed around the Empress. I was served a cup of tea while the Empress sat in an armchair not far from me and had little leather boots put on. I dutifully told her about Tanguy and my little Napoléon, who had started teething and was therefore having trouble sleeping at night. "This is a very trying time for a young mother," she said sympathetically. "And your husband? Are you happy with him, Adèle?" The question came so unexpectedly that I didn't immediately know what to say. Hortense looked at me curiously. "He's a good father...the family is very important to him," I finally said. And I knew it didn't sound very convincing. Joséphine smiled. "That's not what I meant..." She looked at a gold ring she was wearing. "...do you love your husband, Adèle? He's a lot older than you...how old are you again?" I lowered my eyes. "Twenty-two, Madame!" The Empress nodded slightly. I saw a moist shimmer in her eyes. "They say at court that you have many admirers... there is a club of admirers of yours. Is that true, Adèle?" I looked at my hands and shook my head. "I don't know anything about it, Madame! I don't even know most of the people at court." The Empress tilted her head and looked at me intently. "You don't know any of the gentlemen who wanted to dance with you yesterday and who were turned away by the Grand Marshal? You don't know any of these gentlemen,...Adèle?" My heart was pounding so much that I had trouble breathing. I looked at the Empress in distress. "No!...I mean yes,...yes! Your Majesty, I know these gentlemen! I danced with General de Berckheim recently at the Hôtel Théllusson!" Joséphine stood up, I saw that she was crying. "Why were they not allowed to dance with you?...who forbade it?...what did the Emperor tell you, Adèle? Why do you never look at the Emperor when he is here? What do you feel for him, Adèle?...do you love him?" Her voice rose. "...Adèle...do you love the Emperor?" I looked at Joséphine with my mouth open, my whole body trembling. "Of course I love him! We all love him, Madame, he is our Souverain!" Hortense jumped up from her chair and came to my side. "Maman, stop doing that! She's almost dying of fear!" The princess sat down next to me and placed her hand protectively on my arm. The Empress began to sob loudly. "But I'm dying of fear too...and no one feels sorry for me! She knows exactly what I mean...Adèle knows exactly! And I treated her like my daughter...and she does this to me!" Joséphine pressed a handkerchief to her mouth and closed her eyes, crying. At that moment the door opened and the Emperor appeared. In full regalia, high riding boots, grey coat, black bicorn hat, and riding crop on his wrist. He looked at us and said loudly: "I want to speak to the Empress! Everyone else out!" Joséphine immediately threw herself at him, while I scurried out of the room with Émilie and the red and black ladies. The Emperor held back Princess Louis, and I was just glad when the door closed behind me.

The wardrobe women disappeared immediately. I stayed behind with Émilie. Églée came over to us. "Is there another crisis? Why? What did the Empress say?" Neither I nor Émilie responded to Églée. We looked at the door. But this time it remained quiet behind it. There was no sound. We stood there, completely silent, and waited. My knees were still shaking. I wished I could get far away from this place. Unfortunately, my stomach started to growl, because I hadn't eaten anything that morning. Émilie had to laugh when she heard it. Then the door opened and Hortense appeared. She closed the door behind her, put her hand on her forehead and came towards us. "God is merciful to us...they are just reconciling!" We looked at Hortense with excitement. "The Empress seems to have finally come to her senses. She made a terrible mistake yesterday. She thought the Emperor was with a woman, so she made a scene. But he wasn't with any woman! So now he's giving her a choice - either she ends her jealousy or he ends their marriage!" Hortense nodded. "I welcome any consistent behavior from the Emperor, because not only he suffers from Maman's jealousy, but all of us!" Églée said what we were all thinking. "She loves him!" Hortense did not contradict her. "Of course she loves him...he loves her too! But he hates this love...his heart puts him in chains! He would much rather be free of her...then he could finally have children. Children of his own! And the rest of us would all be free too..." Hortense seemed to be the truly unhappy woman at this court, and not Joséphine! "...besides, the Emperor has assured Maman for the umpteenth time that there will be no mistresses at his court! There is nothing he detests more than being associated with the habits of the Kings of France! To encourage reconciliation, the Emperor is prepared to accompany Maman to Malmaison!"

At first I felt a pang in my heart when I heard that he wanted to be with the Empress, but at the same time there was a relief that the truth remained veiled. "Adèle, the Empress will apologize to you when she returns from Malmaison. You are not at all to blame, we all know that. And Maman too! The Emperor told her that he wanted to make an example of his aides-de-camp when he forbade them to dance with you. He does not tolerate anything like 'admirer clubs'; his officers should always concentrate on their duties and not on courtly banter!" She sighed. "Unfortunately, the Emperor is a philistine!" But Églée was not satisfied with all the explanations. "...and what did he whisper to Adèle?" I looked at her. "I don't know! The music was loud...and he was mumbling something. The best thing, Églée, is to ask him yourself!" She was finally satisfied. I turned to the Princess Louis: "Your Imperial Highness, would it be permissible for me to go home? To my children..." I wanted to disappear, just get away from this palace!

...he went to Malmaison with his wife. With his wife!!!

Hortense nodded. "Yes, go home, Adèle, you've suffered enough!" She looked at the faces of the other ladies. "The fun begins for us now, off to Malmaison! Two days of cultivated boredom...and I'm sure we'll all feel sorry for the poor plants. They suffered sooo terribly from the frost!" An ironic smile spread across Hortense's face. "I just hope there's enough champaigne for us! Then the two days will pass quickly!"

When I arrived home with Camille, another unpleasant surprise awaited me. The entrance of our house was a sea of flowers! Duchâtel came to meet me, waving his handkerchief. "Finally, Adèle...I'm waiting impatiently! Look at the attention you're getting! All of Paris is delighted with you since the Emperor has been so gallantly devoted to you!" I pulled little greeting cards out of the bouquets. Read aloud: "Talleyrand Périgord,... Cambacérès... Cobenzl... Fouché...Fouché??" I looked at Duchâtel and said determined: "Send all of this back! I will not accept any of it! I do not know these people and do not want to have anything to do with them!" Duchâtel was horrified. "But Adèle,...you can't ignore these attentions!" I left him standing with his handkerchief in this sea of flowers. "Send everything back...or give it to the poor!"

I really had enough. With heavy steps, tired and sad, I went upstairs to my children. I had a huge breakfast brought to me and went to bed. In the evening Camille came to me with a billet. "Madame, this has just come for you from Malmaison!" I looked at the little billet, opened the imperial seal and read: "Ma douce Adèle! Mon cœur n'appartient qu' à toi! À toi seul! N."

[captain-price-unofficially]

General Leslie R. Groves and J. Robert Oppenheimer examining the remnants of the steel tower used in the Trinity test, September 1945. The white overshoes were to prevent fallout from sticking to the soles of their shoes.

[cl-plus-s]

Sissi in lyoko

I just noticed i haven't explained how i imagine Sissi's avatar weapon and so on looks like in lyoko. Taking inspiration from both how she is on the cheerleading team, and how for better or worse the position of her father as had an impact on her life I picture her with an appearance that primarily evokes that of a princess, with a more athletic twist on it. A salmon/coral piece on top that had her sleeves puffed. on her legs it would be a skirt more relating to a sports/cheerleading one than a gown one. All o fher clothes would be adorned with gilded patterns in golden string. Her shoes would have heels, not high needle ones but enough to give a regal appearance. On her head, instead of the headband she usually wears she would have a crown that signified her princess motif. As a weapon she would have a golden Royal staff that she would use as a cheerleading baton, with the capacity of separating it in two of half the size of the original. The top part of the staff would end in a big protuberance thit shined like a precious metal or gemstone and on the other a point like an ornate spear When the updated outfit happens, she would have the same style but more toned down, no puffed sleeves, no more gilded patterns, the scepters much more less ornamented, no gemstone symbolism, and not made of gold anymore. This would be a definitivve symbol of how she has completely abandoned her diva persona, and while she is still the daughter of someone in a power position it doesn't define her anymore, she now sees herself at the same plane as everyone else, not above them. As for her power this is what has taking me the most time to come with. I ended up landing on is ''Rally Up'': Depending on her movements, she can do a small dance to buff her own, and her friends abilities (Defense, attack, movement, heal a bit... imagine a Bard on a fantasy setting) As for transport, if Jeremie did one for her (that i'm ont so sure since she could use the Overbike or the Overwing) it would be Overshoes. Hovering rollerskates basically, akin to the ones shadow the hedgehog uses. And i think that would be all. Here are some images that i think shows relatively well the feeling i was going for with her lyoko form:

Anf course have to mention this lyoko design for sissi made by other talented fan of the series, that while not exactly the same is remarkably similar to what i had in mind

Artists are in the image descriptions 13

[echo-bleu]

Number 5 with Fingolfin, please! I imagine it would be sometime during the crossing of the Helcaraxë. 💙

Thank you for the prompt!

I thought it would turn out angsty as usual, but somehow it didn't! (Well, don't think too hard about things to come.) A sweet moment between Fingolfin and Idril on the ice.

I'm using their Quenya names since they haven't encountered Sindarin yet, so Ñolofinwë=Fingolfin, Itarillë=Idril, Turukáno=Turgon, Findekáno=Fingon. With surprise guest appearances.

On AO3.

5. Trying to walk on ice

Sometimes, thinks Ñolofinwë, Itarillë’s laughter is the only thing that gets him through the day.

She’s now spent nearly half her life on the ice. She barely remembers Tirion, or the light of the trees, or anything but the cold and the stars, and yet her laughter warms the frost out of their hearts.

She’s too young to walk all day, so she spends most of her time in one of the horse wagons sliding on wooden blades or, when it gets too cold to risk staying still, being carried on someone’s back. Turukáno and Elenwë take turns, with Findekáno and Ñolofinwë himself sometimes pitching in when they get too tired.

Or when they want to spend time with the only person still able to brighten their days, like now.

They’ve made camp for the night – or for the time being, at least, because with the Trees gone, night blends into day. It’s a good spot, the ice is thick enough here to hold everyone without fear. They might stay for a while until the horses are properly rested.

The snow glows under the stars. Were it not so cold, not so bleak a journey, Ñolofinwë would find it beautiful. He sits at the edge of his tent on thick layers of furs, little Itarillë in his lap, and together they watch a group of Turukáno’s people who appear to be doing something with batons and some sort of overshoe. They move back all at once to give space to the two they have equipped, who – somehow – start gliding on the ice.

Itarillë squirms in Ñolofinwë’s lap to look up at him. “What are they doing, grandfather?”

“I don’t know, but we could go ask them.”

“Can we?”

Ñolofinwë smiles at her and lifts her to her feet, after checking that she hasn’t kicked off her boots again. In Tirion, she went barefoot everywhere and she chafes at the need for shoes even here, but having any skin bare but their faces is folly. Even her ears are carefully hidden into the crown braid Turukáno has carefully folded her blond hair into this morning (evening, night – no one remembers to keep time any more).

They approach the group in the short, waddling stride that they’ve learned to take. The thin layer of snow over the ice crackles under their feet, treacherously hiding the slippery surface.

“My lord,” one of the elves immediately bows to Ñolofinwë.

“The princess is curious about what you’re doing,” Ñolofinwë says. “Ecthelion, is it?”

The elf nods. “We’ve devised a new method for moving faster on the ice!” he answers excitedly. Bending down, he picks up a piece of leather, to which is attached something that Ñolofinwë first takes for a wooden slate. “It’s a horse leg bone,” Ecthelion explains. “We drilled some holes into it and shaped the ends, and we tie them under our shoes. It allows us to glide, and push forward with the batons.”

“It’s fun!” another elf tells them with a large grin. He has a thick mane of unbound golden hair flowing around his shoulders, in the manner of the Vanyar – one of Elenwë’s, then. Ñolofinwë gives him a dubious look.

“Maybe the princess could try!” Ecthelion offers. “We’ve perfected the technique, it’s fairly safe. The ice is thick all around the camp, we’ve checked.”

Ñolofinwë thinks about it for a moment, but Itarillë looks up at him with such pleading eyes that he can’t resist. “Please, grandfather?”

“Alright, as long as you make sure she’s safe.”

Itarillë squeals and claps her gloved hands together. Ecthelion goes down to one knee on the ice to tie the pieces of bone to her boots, picking a pair that’s a little shorter than most of the others. It’s still a little too large for her.

“Stand carefully with your feet apart, Princess,” Ecthelion tells her, patient and gentle. He stands up again and holds out his hands. “Here, hold onto me.”

Her small hands are engulfed in Ecthelion thick gloves. He starts walking backwards, careful not to slip – he doesn’t have bone overshoes of his own – and pulls her with him. Itarillë glides forward on the ice.

“Oooh!” she exclaims. “Do it again!”

Ecthelion chuckles and obeys. Then, “Do you want to try too, my lord?” he asks Ñolofinwë cheekily.

“Maybe not today,” Ñolofinwë says. “But I can at least entertain my granddaughter and let you get back to your race.” He gestures at the rest of the group, who seems to have started a sliding race on the edge of the camp.

Ecthelion takes it for the request that it is. With all the care in the world, he pulls Itarillë closer to Ñolofinwë until she can transfer her grip from one elf to the other.

“Gradfather, it’s fun,” Itarillë says excitedly.

“I can see that,” Ñolofinwë smiles.

He gently pulls her around the ring of ice that the gliders have cleared from snow. She’s stable enough, so he speeds them up until he’s going as fast as he safely can walk.

Itarillë laughs her heart out. The sound seems to Ñolofinwë like the most beautiful thing in the world. Out of the corner of his eye, he spots Turukáno and Elenwë watching them with smiles on their faces.

Even in the coldest night, he thinks, there is warmth to be found.

-

I'm not sure that I quite filled the actual prompt here but I couldn't resist elves inventing ice skating. They're using horse metatarsal bones here, which is one of the oldest recorded type of skate. I figure that they might invent metal skates at some point but they don't have a forge on the journey, so it will have to wait until they're in Beleriand.

The elf with golden hair is of course Glorfindel. Tell me he wouldn't love ice skating.