#poor padre he's had a difficult life

[the-hinky-panda]

The Preacher's Wife Series - Big Bear Lake (Part I)

Maggie has this down to an art. Whenever a deadline is coming up, she finds a local women’s retreat and registers for it. It’s something that’s expected of a pastor’s wife, that “continuing education” on ministry techniques and how to organize a prayer group. She rents a house nearby, one that is fairly remote and with a garage. She shows up for the first day, signs in, collects the welcome packet, sits through the opening ceremony, and then heads to her Airbnb or Vrbo. She parks her car in the garage and won’t let it be seen again until she heads back to the conference on the last day for the closing meeting. She uses Uber or DoorDash for food. Other than that, she’s locked inside the rented space, trying to finish the first draft or final revision of her latest romance novel. 

She’s sold six books so far and has a hefty amount of money stashed away from the publication and royalties. Her publisher has been chomping at the bit for the seventh book but lucky number seven has been…difficult. And that was an understatement. When this retreat for pastor’s wives was announced as being held in Redlands and was a week-long retreat, she jumped at the opportunity to get away and try to figure out how to get this book started, let alone written. 

She was two days into her seven day retreat when the writer’s block got too much for her. She had been staring at the same blank page for six hours now and nothing, nothing was coming to her. She needed dinner and a good drink. Maybe then she would be able to fill the void with words that would eventually give way to a plot. She calls up the Uber app, places her request, and touches up her make-up. She’s grabbing her jacket and purse when the car pulls up in the driveway. 

The driver is a young man, college age from the looks of it. According to the app, his name is Stephen, which is how he introduces himself with that surfer twang. She asks him for his suggestion of the best local bar, something family owned, no chains. He tells her the best place that fits that description would be Hunter’s Lodge which sits right on the lake. She asks him what he does and he tells her he surfs in the morning, snowboards in the afternoons, and drives for Uber in the evenings. It sounds like a charmed life and she tells him so. He asks what she does and she simply answers she’s a writer, because that’s who she is at the moment. 

He drops her off in the gravel parking lot of a rustic looking cabin that does sit right on the lake’s edge. There’s a patio off the back with a few brave souls under heat lamps sitting out there. It’s May but winter is still in the evening air this far up the mountains. She pays Stephan for the drive and says her goodbye before heading towards the door. There’s only a few cars in the parking lot, a couple bikes, a beat up scrap metal truck with a load of twisted fenders and other broken pieces in the back of it. Romero Brother’s Scrapyard. Why is that a familiar name to her? Before she can figure that out, someone shouts from the front door. 

“Maggie?” 

She freezes. After all these years, almost eight years now of doing these covert writing retreats, her cover is finally blown. Shit. 

“Maggie,” they call again, the crunch of gravel under work boots announcing the person’s approach. “Is that you?” 

She turns and sees one of the men from the Santo Padre motorcycle club, the one that her sister works for as their medic. When she says his name, it’s with absolute relief. “Hank!” 

He gives her a small smile. “What are you doing here?” 

“I’m, uh, I’m here, um…” She wants to be honest with him but how do you explain that you’re here hiding from your life and responsibilities because your secret life needs to be addressed? That you’ve lied to your megachurch pastor husband about going away to grow in your relationship with the Lord when in fact all you’re doing is hiding away in someone else’s cabin and writing about some poor woman’s sexual awakening with a handsome stranger because the stories of the other six women with similar sexual awakenings were wildly successful that your publisher wants a seventh. 

“I’m sorry,” he holds up his hand, “I didn’t mean to pry.” 

“No,” she shakes her head, “you’re not prying at all. It’s just…complicated.” 

“I get that.” 

She doesn’t know where the bravery and forwardness comes from but the words are out of her mouth before she can stop them. “I can explain it over a drink, if you don’t have anything better to do this evening.” 

He smiles again, small and subtle, but immensely genuine. “I’d like that.” 

[thewahookid]

Let us strive to be always behind this blessed Mother

Padre Pio's devotion to the Blessed Virgin, the same one that he recommended to his penitents and directees, was very simple: in addition to the liturgical feasts in her honor, which he celebrated with fervor, it was chiefly centered on the Rosary. He prayed it continually, evoking, meditating and praying with Mary - which is what the Rosary is all about - each of the mysteries of Jesus' life.

His fellow friars would also see him in the sacristy, meditating and praying at the foot of a picture of Our Lady of Sorrows.

In a letter from 1912, he wrote: "How many times have I confided to this mother the tormented anguish of my restless heart! And how often has she comforted me! In difficult moments, it seems to me that I no longer have a mother on earth, but one, full of pity, in Heaven... Poor little Mama, how she loves me! I felt it again at the beginning of this month (of May). She accompanied me to the altar this morning with such loving care! I wish that I had a stronger voice, to invite sinners all over the world to go to Our Lady."

He goes on to write: "I feel myself burning without a fire. I feel clasped and bound to the Son by means of this Mother, without even seeing the chains that bind me so tightly."

Padre Pio saw in this Mother the one who leads to Jesus and who, through her powerful intercession, obtained countless graces from him.

And in a letter from 1915, he wrote: "Let us strive, like other chosen souls, to always be behind this blessed Mother, and to always walk by her side, for there is no other road that leads to life but the one taken by our Mother: we who wish to reach the end must not refuse to take this path".

Adapted from Marian Encyclopedia

Hail, Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with you; blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death.

Amen.

[babybluebex]

Well, since we got the dark stuff go ahead:

TW: flogging, bloodplay

Gotta ask about whether or not the Padre has a history of self flagellation, maybe he falls back into when the reader shows up and they catch him doing it and it can either go the soft way, which is angst and sweet, or the real fucked up way, which is;

The Padre swallowed, fingers twitching as you reached for the whip. "I'm not done."

"Obviously." The weight of the leather coil is heavy in your palm, and you can't resist wrapping your fingers around the cord.

He grunts at the experimental pump you give it. His legs ache, the bit of weight he can manage to brace on his forearms are even worse; the marble feels like its cutting into him, the strain on his arms echoing into his shoulders, down his tattered back. He can feel it, staining down his sweat pants, dripping onto the alter.

You seem...calm. Not quite indifferent, your eyes are sparkling far too brightly for that, but there's more approval on your face than judgement and it makes him want to fall into a heap at your feet, but that would require taking his gaze off your hands.

Frankly, you're pretty damn preoccupied with them yourself. It's so...delightful. If you were the sentimental type, you'd call it beautiful the way the sweet Padre's blood painted the worn brown leather, but you weren't, so no need to share that thought with Antonio. The leather cord with easy rolls of your wrist. Your fingers get redder with each stroke, and your smile gets wider.

And wider still when you lift your gaze just so, and see how clearly aroused he is.

It's sort of cute, in a pathetic needy kinda way, so you offer him a whisper of his name.

"Antonio."

His good Christian name.

The considerable bulge in his thin grey sweats twitches and the material hides nothing and better fucking yet, they're soaked with precum and maybe a full on ejaculation and God damn, if it isn't a pretty sight.

And knowing it was all because of little old you was just icing on the cupcake that was your day right now.

His big doe eyes flutter when you touch his cheek. He can smell his own blood. It's rich and cloying and sharp, and he inhales deeper.

He deserves everything you're about to give him.

"This is because of our little chat this morning?"

His eyes stayed closed. Your fingernail traces the dimple in his cheek and one of the gashes on his back slots itself into the edge of the alter and he moans.

Your mouth waters as his Adam's apple bobs, the sweat on his brow, from exertion or arousal or pain or some sublime combination, is starting to show through what little scraps remain of his white shirt, and you hum as you wipe your hand off on the soiled wet cotton.

He grunts, the jostle sending a sharp jolt across his back, his sides, up his fucking cock, which is too much for him to process all at once, so he settles on forcing his eyes to open and swallows when your gaze finally meets his.

"'Cause I mean...if it is my fault?" You can't help but tug at the collar of his shirt. It'd be more fun if he was in the collar, but there was always next time. "I think you should let me help you finish."

Oh fuck, his hips stutter as your stomach brushes his, pressing his back into the cold, unforgiving marble, pressing his cock between the sweet plush apex of your thighs and it's warm- the heat of your body is wonderfully, splendidly alive and soft and sacred in a way he's never experienced before.

Oh, he's starting to slump against that alter and you can't help but slot your thigh between his to keep him upright and you feel a gush of wet heat.

Your brow arches and mouth puckers at the sight of a damp spot on your hideous khaki trousers. "Oh, that was definitely for me."

There's a certain amount of pride in your voice when you say it, and the good Padre supposes you've earned that, in your own sick way. He never should have let it get this far.

"Turn around for me?"

He obeys, shivering as he stretches out on the marble. It's cold and unforgiving and he suddenly hates the watchful eyes of the statues around him. They had been witnesses to his penance before, but now-

"Oh, Padre Domingo..." You tut.

Antonio pants as you peel the bloody remains away from his skin.

His back is covered in thick lashes, perhaps a dozen, perhaps a few less. A pitiful sight, really. Once pale skin all torn up, stripped to the muscle, decimated. Delicious though, and all for you.

"I expected you to be more thorough, darling."

He all but sobs at the disappointment in your voice. His arms shake, and you can see the battered muscles in his back spasm as his weight shifts and you can't help yourself.

Tender fingers thread through his dark hair. He's soaked with sweat. Dried blood moistens and streaks through it.

The touch lulls him a moment, just long enough for you to contemplate giving those lovely strands a harsh yank just to watch him flinch, but when he lifts his head to greet you as come around the side of the alter, you melt a little.

Offering him a sweet kiss, you whisper against his mouth, "Don't be afraid to scream, okay?"

Okay that got away from me. Valuable lesson learned, never write a first draft on tumblr.

I have an alternate scenario, but maybe I'll send that in a different part bc it wouldn't be a gender neutral reader like this one, if that's ok?

ASDFIJSOAJDFOAPD IM SO

[noladyme]

La Cuervo - Chapter 7

She is used to the biker-life, having grown into a woman in the familiar embrace of SAMCRO. A bad decision and a gun-shot later, she gets whisked off to Santo Padre, and put under the protection of another club. What is supposed to be a short stint in the Mayan headquarters just north of the border to Mexico, turns into something more; when la quervo begins to develop feelings for el angel - and he seems to return them in kind...

TW: violence, blood, drug use, alcohol, smut, fluff, angst

In the spirit of "The Crown Princess of Charming", this is a story about O.C. Nina and Angel Reyes. It is obviously non-canon, as characters who have passed on on Mayans M.C. are present in it, and others have been excluded completely. Nina is written as a cis-female, but I have tried to keep her race and looks as ambigous as possible. Should you find any of this story offensive, please let me know.

7.

EZ dropped Nina off at Angel’s house on his bike, and used his extra key to let her in. He stood around awkwardly for a few moments, before beginning to move some of Angel’s clutter from the coffee table. “He’s not the best cleaner…”, he muttered. “It’s ok. You should see my place”, Nina chuckled, suddenly feeling a sting in her heart. No matter how much she’d begun to care about the Mayans, she still had a hint of homesickness. “Well, seeing as you’re sticking around; maybe you can get Angel to pull his act together”, EZ smiled, and walked into the kitchen, and opened the fridge. He immediately shut it again. “I wouldn’t look in there”.

She sat leaned against the doorway to the kitchen, deep in thought. “Are you ok?”, EZ asked. “It’s just been a crazy few days…”, she muttered. He walked over to her, and put a gentle hand on her shoulder. “You know we have your back with this thing with Palo, right?”. She nodded slightly. “I know. But I still feel like I…”. She sighed, unable to finish her sentence. “Signed a deal with the enemy?”, EZ said. “With the club, I mean”.

Nina moved into the living room, and picked up her helmet; sitting down on the couch. EZ sat down next to her. “Mayans aren’t the enemy…”, she said. “No, but we’re not SAMCRO”, EZ replied. She met his eyes hesitantly. “Look, I get it. You don’t know us. Not really… And you still have family in Charming”. Nina nodded. “I’m not going back on my deal. And I want to be here; I mean, you guys have been really good to me”. “But you miss home”, he said, and took the helmet from her. “Angel mentioned your brother. Are you worried what he’d think if he knew you were here?”. Nina laughed out loud. “Oh, I know what he’d think. I know what he’d say as well… Chibs sent you down south to keep you safe, darlin’. Not sling beers and screw bikers. And then I’d remind him I’ve been doing pretty much the same thing in Charming up until now… Save the screwing bikers. No need for contraception, when you’ve got Happy looking over your shoulder”. EZ laughed at this, and squeezed her hand, before getting up to stand. “Yeah, he’s pretty scary”, he said. “Look, whether you stay for a week, a year, or however long; you got a home here now as well. And I hope whatever you have going on with Angel continues. You’re doing something to my brother. And I like having you around”. He bent down to kiss her cheek. “Thanks, EZ”, Nina said. “No problem, hermanita… Family; right?”. She felt a smile tug at her lips, and squeezed his hand, before they said goodbye, and EZ left the house.

---

Nina was dozing off on Angel’s couch, a telenovela running on the flatscreen. She was jostled awake, at the sound of the front door opening, and him walking in. He closed and locked the door behind him, before turning to look at the tv. “Fucking Catalina…”, he muttered, took off his cut, and hung it over a chair, before going over to throw himself on the couch with Nina.

He wrapped both arms around her torso, and nuzzled up against her chest. “Everything ok?”, she asked, and ran her fingertips through his hair. “We just made five grand for the club on a kidney”, Angel smiled. “We’re good”. Nina shuddered. “Yeah… I still didn’t need to know”. Angel chuckled softly. “Sorry, querida”, he said. “Did you eat?”. Twirling a lock of his hair between her fingers, Nina shrugged. “Your fridge isn’t exactly stuffed”, she said. She’d gone against EZ’s advise, and checked it, after he left. Angel looked at her disgruntledly. “I got food…”, he pouted. Nina ran her index finger over his lower lip teasingly. “You mean that broccoli pizza you got on the shelf next to the Miller Lights?”. “That ain’t broccoli; that’s…”, Angel began, before meeting her eyes. “Right. I should probably do some grocery shopping. You could cook us a real meal”.

Nina frowned at his words, knowing it was time for some truth. She pushed at Angel’s shoulders, to make him sit up. “What’s wrong?”, he asked. Nina sighed deeply, and took his hand; kissing his knuckles. “I have to tell you something… And I don’t know if you’ll feel the same about me once I’m finished”. Angel looked worried. He tried to meet her eyes, but she looked away. “Nina, you’re scaring me. Talk to me”. He put a hand to the side of her face, stroking her temple, as if to soothe her. She finally looked up – meeting his terrified gaze – and took a deep breath. “Angel… I can’t cook”.

Angel let out a huff. “Fuck, Nina… That’s it? That’s the big secret? You fucking scared me!”. Nina laughed at his guffawed expression. “Oh, you think that’s funny? After everything these last few days; I was shitting myself!”. She put a hand on either side of his face, and went to kiss him. “Aw, poor baby. Come here…”. Angel pulled back, and grabbed her wrists. “Nah, mami. That shit ain’t funny…”. Nina straddled his lap, and attacked his face with kisses, while he continuously moved his head away. “I thought something was seriously wrong”. “I’m sorry”, Nina pouted. She shifted in his lap, grinding against him. “Forgive me?”. Angel groaned, and moved her off of him, with a firm grip on her hips. “I’m gonna go have some broccoli pizza”, he grunted, and got off the couch; moving towards the kitchen.

Nina let out a scoffing laugh, and shook her head. “Seriously? Angel, I was joking!”. She followed him into the kitchen. “I can’t hear you over the sound of the echo in my empty fridge!”, Angel said, and grabbed a slice of cold pizza, before slamming the fridge-door shut. He took one bite of the slice, before wincing, and spitting it out in the trash-can. He dumped the rest of the slice as well. “Angel…”, Nina said. Angel nabbed a beer in stead of the pizza, and opened it; taking a big gulp while theatrically ignoring her. “Angel!”, she repeated. Angel walked past her, and back into the living room. Nina sighed. “Papi…?”.

Angel stopped dead in his tracks, and turned around slowly. “I’m listening…”. Nina walked slowly towards him, pushing out her lower lip. “I’m sorry I tricked you…”, she said, and looked at him innocently. Putting her hands on his chest, she leaned in close. “Please forgive me…”. “Hmm”, Angel grunted. “Kiss it better”. Nina smiled sweetly, and began getting on her toes to meet his lips. “No…”. He looked down towards his groin, before meeting her eyes with a raised brow. Licking her lips, Nina nodded, and took a hold of his hips; lowering herself onto her knees.

Angel looked on – taking another sip of his beer – while she unbuckled his belt, and opened his pants. He was already half hard, when she hooked her fingers into the waistband of his boxers, and pulled them down to expose his cock. She sighed in contentment, and made a languid stroke of her tongue up the side of his length. He let out a soft gasp, when she made the same movement on the other side; and she couldn’t help but giggle at the small jumps his cock made, as it hardened fully. She left a kitten lick on the tip, and smiled up at him.

Grabbing himself, and stroking his length; Angel chuckled down at her. “What?”, Nina asked. “Mami, you look so cute like this… I just wanna…”. He touched the head of his penis to her nose. “Boop”. Nina sat back on her heels, and looked at him with a guffawed expression. “Did you just… boop my nose with your dick?”, she asked. “Fuck yeah”, Angel grinned. “Now, open your mouth, or I’ll do it again”. “Angel, you…”, Nina began. “Nuh uh… try again”, he replied. She couldn’t help but smile. “Papi…”, she said. Angel nodded. “Good girl. Now say ah…”.

Nina opened her mouth, and let him enter it. She let out a moan around him, and took over stroking his length, while suckling at the head. She sucked him in as far as she could, and moved her tongue to massage him. Angel put a hand on her cheek, and took another sip of his beer. Moving her hands to his bottom, Nina began moving her head back and forth, while gently squeezing his cheeks. He was letting out soft groans now, and shifted his legs. The sounds of her slurping at him mixed with the sounds of a couple arguing on the tv. “No, Antonio. You know she’s just playing with your heart, man…”, Angel muttered. Nina pulled him out of her mouth. “Seriously?”, she said. Angel looked down at her and shrugged apologetically. “Sorry…”. “No, you’re not”, Nina said, and rolled her eyes, before getting back to work.

She added pressure with her tongue this time, and cupped his balls; massaging them gently. Angel gasped, and grabbed at her hair, moving her head back and forth. The sting from his grasp was strangely delicious, and sent pleasant signals to Nina’s core; making it difficult to sit still. She pressed her thighs together to get some kind of friction to help with the throbbing. Angel moved his hand to her chin, and made her pull back, and look up at him. “You want something, querida?”, he asked. She looked up at him with lips parted, and nodded. “Talk to me. Tell me what you want”.

She got on her feet slowly – her thighs burning slightly, from having been on her knees for so long – and pulled off her top. Turning around to walk towards the bedroom, she opened her bra and tossed it over the chair his cut was hanging on; and then opened her shorts, to step out of them. Once in the doorway, she pulled down her panties, and stood naked in front of him. “Food… I’m hungry”, she said. Angel laughed, and grabbed his phone to order takeout.

The – fresh – pizza arrived after round one; and Angel hardly took the time to put on his boxers, to go to the door to get it. After devouring more than half the pie – letting Nina enjoy a few slices herself – he devoured her for a good while; leaving her still short of breath, when he entered her again. Nina let herself be enveloped in the comfort of Angel’s presence, and in her quiet mind she thought that maybe spending a year in Santo Padre wouldn’t be so bad after all.

---

The next morning, it rained for the first time since she’d arrived with the Mayans. The bikers were all miserable, unable to take their fancy road kings for their regular rides; but Nina felt the rainfall as a fresh start.

“What are you smiling about?”, Creeper said, as she was filling the fridges with drinks for the party that night. He was looking over some maps with Riz, by a table near the bar. The two of them were supposed to go for a short run over the border, but the rain had kept them stranded for now. “What’s not to smile about? The air is finally breathable around here, and there’s a party tonight”. Creeper chuckled, and shook his head. “Yeah, if anyone comes. It’s not riding weather”, he retorted. “You think a little rain will keep SAMCRO from riding down here?”, Nina scoffed. “You can’t keep them off the road”. Riz raised a brow at her. “Yeah, well Palo’s riding in as well… I don’t think the rain will stop him either”. She sighed. “Yeah. Thanks for that…”, she said.

Angel and Gilly came in to the clubhouse then, and Angel went behind the bar, to kiss her cheek. She smiled slightly at him, before looking at Riz and Creeper. “Whatever. I’m not going to let that shit ruin the fact that I’m seeing my family for the first time in weeks”, she declared. Angel gave her a short look, and went to sit by the counter with Gilly. “I thought we were your family”, Gilly said. “I’m not saying…”, Nina began. “Yeah; what are you saying?”, Angel said, his voice hard. Nina frowned, and was about to speak, when the door slammed open, and Coco came in with a grin plastered over his face. “It stopped raining!”, he proclaimed. “Thank fuck”, Creeper said. “Let’s get this shit done”.

Riz and Creeper went to leave the clubhouse. Nina walked over to Angel, and took his hand. “Are we ok?”, she asked quietly. He nodded dismissively. “Yeah, ma’. We’re good”, he replied, and pressed a kiss to her lips. “I gotta go help Gilly with a haul that just came in the yard”. “Angel…”. He pecked her lips again. “We’re good, Nina. Go get shit ready for later…”. He squeezed her bottom, and went to do his job.

Trying to ignore the nagging feeling in her stomach at Angel’s behavior, Nina went back to getting the bar ready for the party. While EZ and Chucky were lugging cases of potato-salad, tortillas, and other non-meat foods, she kept herself busy by putting pouring spouts on liquor bottles, and putting snacks in bowls. Coco was leaning against the bar, arguing with his daughter on the phone. “No… Because I said so, Letty”. He looked at the bowl Nina set down in front of him. “Hold up…”. He pulled the bowl towards him. “The fuck is this?”, he asked Nina. She looked down at the orange lumps of deliciousness. “Apricots…”. Coco frowned. “They’re not supposed to look like this”, he grunted. She popped an apricot into her mouth. “They’re dried”, she shrugged with a smile. “Like raisins? Ma’, that’s wrong. They look like shrunken dog’s testicles”. There was a long rant on the other end of the phone, and Coco went back to his conversation. “We got two clubs of dirty ass bikers coming in to this thing. I already fucked up one cabron for you this week. You’re not coming… Letty…? Leticia! Fuck. She hung up”. Nina handed him a cold beer to calm him down. “You trying to keep her out of trouble?”, she asked. “Always”, Coco muttered. Nina gave him a half smile. “Do you really wanna think about what she might get herself into tonight, if she’s not here, though? It’s the weekend…”. Coco looked ahead of himself for a short moment, before something resembling a shudder went through him, and he pulled out his phone again, and called up his kid. “You’re coming here tonight… No arguments, mija. And wear a turtleneck!”.

Gilly ducked in to the clubhouse. “Prospect. Meat incoming”. EZ quickly went for the door, to help his pap unload. Nina followed him outside, and saw Felipe arrive in a flatbed. Angel came out of the office, and went to greet his father. It was the first time Nina had seen the two men interact, and she lingered on the porch for a moment; looking down at the scene. Felipe pulled his eldest son in for a hug, and Angel kissed his father’s cheek. He’d been truthful in telling Nina that Felipe looked at him differently than he did Ezekiel; but she found him selling himself short in his father’s eyes. There was clear pride there; and so much love.

She went down to join them, and Angel went over to take her hand. He looked strangely nervous, when he led her over to Felipe. “Pap’, this is Nina. She’s…”. “We met”, Felipe said, and took Nina’s free hand; squeezing it. “Right…”, Angel said. “I forgot”. “It’s good to see you again, Nina”, Felipe said. “You too, Mr. Reyes”. “Please… Felipe”, he replied. “I brought that chorizo you liked yesterday”. “Thank you!”, Nina grinned. Angel looked between them; a slightly bewildered expression on his face. “Pap, where’s the ribs?”, EZ asked from behind the truck. “I’m coming”, Felipe said, and went to help his youngest son.

Angel put an arm around her shoulder, and looked down at her in wonder. “What?”, Nina chuckled. “He likes you…”, Angel said. She shrugged, and turned to put her arms around his waist. “I guess I have a way with the Reyes men”. Angel smiled softly, and gave her a soft kiss. “I have to go get ready”, she said, and went to get dressed for the party.

---

Zipping up the only dress she’d brought to Santo Padre, Nina gave herself a final once over in the small mirror of the trailer’s bathroom. Spending a little time alone, the fearful thoughts of what was actually going to happen that night, had come back. Palo would be there, with his men; and even the thought of having both Mayans and SAMCRO at her back, didn’t ease her mind. If by some chance Palo managed to figure out who she was, it would be literal war; and not only she, but every civilian attending – and there would be quite a few, she knew – would be caught smack in the middle of it. She was beginning to regret pushing Coco to let Letty come.

As she added a dash of lipstick, someone knocked on the trailer door. Bishop was standing outside when she opened. “Someone told me I’d better knock, before coming in”, he said, stifling a grin. “Yeah, me and Angel might have scarred Coco for life”, Nina replied, and moved for him to enter. “The guy fought the Taleban. He’s seen worse than Angel’s flat ass”, Bishop chuckled. He sat down by the table, and Nina sat down on the other side to face him. “How are you feeling?”, he asked earnestly. “Like I’m about to serve beer to a psychopath who wants me dead”, she replied. “Well, you are…”, Bishop said. She nodded, and looked down at the table. The .38 was lying there, next to her inhaler. Her hands were shaking, and her heart racing. “You need to keep your head down tonight. Act like any other girl here. Serve the drinks, smile…”. “And pretend I don’t notice any of the illegal shit going on”, Nina muttered. “Exactly”, Bishop said. “Once VM rolls in, don’t pay any special attention to SAMCRO. I know you’re close with them, but Palo doesn’t need to know you have connections up north. This is your home. Ok?”. “Ok”, Nina whispered. “Do I bring my gun?”. “Hangarounds don’t carry weapons. Leave it here”, Bishop said. She swallowed thickly; and Bishop reached over the table, and put a hand on her cheek. “We got you, mija”. There was a roar of engines sounding outside in the distance. “And you got your other family coming in as well”. They both got up to stand, and Nina took a deep breath. She fingered her inhaler absentmindedly. “Leave that too”, Bishop said. “No need to add to suspicion”.

There was a hard knock on the door. “Bish! Reaper incoming…”, Hank yelled from outside. Nina closed her eyes, and listened to the arriving bikes. She felt her lips turning into a large smile. “Better break out the Johnnie Walker”, Bishop said. Nina opened her eyes. “Jameson…”, she grinned.

---

The Mayans were all gathered in front of the clubhouse, standing ready to greet the incoming guests. Bishop went to stand in front of them, while Nina waited in the doorway of the trailer. Angel stood with his hands leaning against the railing of the porch, his expression somber.

The roars of five Harleys made its way up the drive. Nina knew the sound of every bike like the back of her hand, and a feeling of comfort and home washed over her, as she watched her family drive in. Filip pulled up, followed by Tig, Happy, Quinn and Ratboy. They all got off their bikes, and it was a struggle for her not to run at them right away; but she knew convention was that the two clubs greet first, and halted herself. Walking up to greet Bishop, Filip, shook his hand, and gave him a half hug. “Welcome”, the Mayan president said. “It’s hot as fuck out here. Did you have to scare away the rain?”, Filip replied. “We wanted Quinn to feel at home. Heard his old lady’s as dry as the Sonoran”, Taza said. “That’s my kids’ mom you’re talking about”, Quinn said, and hugged Taza. “Sorry”, the VP laughed. Quinn shrugged. “Nah, fuck that bitch. We split months ago”.

The two groups merged, and there was a murmur of greetings and pats on backs, before Filip looked at Bishop again. “Where are you keeping our girl?”, he said. Bishop nodded his head at Nina, who practically sprang to greet her brothers. She flung herself around the neck of Filip, and earned about a hundred kisses to her forehead. “I’m so happy you’re here!”, she smiled, and turned to hug Tig, who gave her even more kisses. “We missed you, sweetheart!”, he said. Happy picked her up from the ground, and squeezed her tight. “Are they treating you ok, little sister?”. “I’m good, Hap’”, she replied.

After having hugged Quinn and Rat, Filip once again wrapped her in his arms, and turned them, so his back was to the Mayans. “We need to talk, luv’”, he said. “You should not be here right now”. Nina sighed into the crook of his neck. She locked eyes with Angel, who looked about ready to throttle someone. “I can’t go… I made a deal with them”. “What kind of deal?”, Filip asked. “Look, if this is just about some dick…”. “It’s not… Not just…”. Filip made a displeased grunt, and turned to look at the other club; his arm still wrapped around her. “Which one is it then? His voice was kind of shrill over the phone; I couldn’t make out which one of the eight amigos it was”. She punched his shoulder. “Stop it, you bagpipe-wielding ass!”, she growled. “Ow!”, Filip said. “What have you been feeding her? Don’t tell me you let her cook!”.

“She can’t cook”, Angel said, having come down form the porch. “Thought you’d know that… being family and all”. It was like watching two roosters getting ready to get in to it, and Nina felt a sudden urge to pour a bucket of cold water over both men. “This is the one, then”, Filip said, and let go of Nina; to go face Angel. He got really close, starring the younger biker down; and being somewhat successful, in spite of being a few inches shorter. “Huh…”. With an overbearing look, he passed Angel; bumping his shoulder as he went to walk up the steps to the clubhouse. “Bishop, mind showing me the inside of your templo? We have some things to discuss”. Angel was about to follow him, when Nina grabbed his arm. Bishop came over and looked hard at him. “Cool it, Angel… I’m serious!”. Angel clenched his jaw and cursed below his breath; and Bishop followed Filip up the stairs, and into the clubhouse. The rest of the Mayans and SAMCRO-members went about their business of checking on the incoming bikes. As they all began comparing their phallic extensions, Nina pulled Angel out of earshot.

“Seriously, Angel? This is not the time to…”, she began. “He disrespected me…!”, Angel growled. “Oh come on…”, Nina hissed, trying to shush him. “Think about it. You’ve spent the last few weeks with your hands down his little sister’s panties. How is he supposed to react…? This is how it works. You know that better than me”. “I’m gonna…”, Angel began. “He’s a president of another MC. And he’s my…”. “Family… Yeah, you said”. He scoffed, and pulled his arm from her grasp, almost stomping away.

“Angel!”, Nina called after him. “Don’t walk away from me like that!”. He turned around, and looked at her with hard eyes. “Do you want to go back?”, he asked. “Are you going back with them?”. There was actual hurt in his voice. Nina went over to him, and shook her head fervently. “No! I made a promise to Bishop and the rest of you”. “Is that the only reason you’re staying, though?”. Angel’s expression was anguished. “’Cuz I’ll take you back right now, if that’s what will make you happy. We’ll just get on my bike, and drive north”. “What are you saying?”, Nina asked. A dull pain was forming in her chest, and Angel looked like he was feeling the same. “If you hadn’t made this deal with the club… Would you still want to stay?”. Nina took a moment to ponder her words. Angel looked more and more defeated by the second. “Yeah… Didn’t think so”. Anger bubbling inside her, she grabbed his arm again. “Don’t make me smack the shit out of you again!”, she said. “I want to stay here for you; you stupid dick! You’re the reason I haven’t run and hidden from Palo. Because I might not see you again…”. She gasped at her own words. She only just realized the truth of them as she spoke.

Behind them, the bikers were beginning to make their way into the clubhouse. EZ closed the door behind them, seemingly trying to give Nina and Angel some privacy. Angel looked dumbstruck. “For real?”, he asked. “Yes, for real…”, Nina said quietly. Relaxing his tense stance, Angel cupped her face. “I kept thinking you were just waiting to go home”. “Is this why you so weird after talking to Chibs over the phone?”, she asked. Angel nodded, but didn’t say anything. “If you had asked me a few days ago… Yes, I wanted to leave”, she said. “I didn’t think you and me… I wanted to go back to Charming. But now…”. She sighed, unable to finish the sentence. “Yeah?”, he asked. “Yeah…”, she said. “I’m here… And I want to be”.

Angel let out a deep breath, like all the troubles of the world had been on his shoulders, and he was finally at peace. “Come here”, he said, and put one arm around her back, while his other hand pulled her face in for a deep kiss. “I’m sorry, querida…”. Nina kissed him back, and smiled. “Look, when this impending nuclear detonation we’re calling a party is over, could you just take me back to your place; and we can… fuck it out?”, Nina asked, a crooked smile on her lips. Angel gave her an adoring look. “Oh, mami…”, he said, and pulled her impossibly closer. “You’re so fucking perfect. You sure, though?”. “Yeah…”, Nina said, and bit her lip. “Just remind me to bring my inhaler. Bishop made me leave it in the trailer”. Angel shook his head. “Nah. Pack all your shit. You ain’t spending another night in that piece of shit tin-can”.

Someone cleared their throat. EZ had come back outside. “That’s my piece of shit tin-can”, he said with a wry smile. “Bishop wants you inside”.

---

[whattimeisitintokyo]

Somos Familia Ch 46: A Tale of Woe

Ch 46: A Tale of Woe

Pacing outside of the shack she just exited, Leti bit the end of her thumb and whined a little. This did not go according to what she had planned. This was supposed to be a joyous occasion. How often had Nieve said how she wished she could see her son at least once to tell him that she was sorry, to let him hear her side of the story? She was supposed to cry in happiness and embrace Papa like she never got to in life, and he would return it in kind. A mother and son reunited after over fifty years.

It should have been a happy occasion. It shouldn’t have ended up with Nieve being furious at her and Papa looking like he was going to throw up.

“I made the right decision, sí?” she asked the two animals sitting outside with her. “I mean come on. This is the kind of situation that would make for a good story. Haven’t these two always wanted to meet each other?”

Dante yipped in what seemed to be approval of Leti’s question, while she could have sworn she saw Frangipanni’s eyes dart slightly to the side.

“What? You don’t think this was a good idea?”

Frangipani just looked at her with what Leti swore was a wince, and let out a puff of air from her trunk.

“Well why didn’t you tell me before?!” Leti moaned. “Some spirit guide you are…” Easily dodging Frangipani’s attempt to splash water at her, Leti fought to put a confident grin on her face. “Well no matter! It’s been over fifty years since she’s seen him, and no doubt Papa would have tons of questions for her. I’m sure they have loads to talk about!”

-----------------------

…..

…..

…..

“I like your jacket.”

Jumping slightly after the break of near dead silence, Héctor looked down at his jacket and picked at the purple sleeve. “Oh, gracias. It’s Balenciaga.”

“What’s that?”

“He’s a fashion designer. From… Spain…”

“Oh.”

…..

…..

This was excruciating. They both knew that this couldn’t go on forever, let alone for the next few minutes. Héctor was obviously running out of time, the slow disappearance of his skin a clear indicator. But for some reason Héctor couldn’t leave his seat. He just kept looking at this girl, trying to take in every curve of bone and every twitch of facial features. Trying to burn them into his memory. Several times he tried to say something, his throat constricting every time, until Nieve broke the silence once more.

“Look, we don’t have a lot of time.” she said. “And I know you must have questions.”

“Not really, no.”

His answer surprised them both, and Héctor knew that it was a big fat lie. Maybe it was because he was on a tight schedule and didn’t have time to ask her his many questions, or maybe he was too afraid to know the answers. But seeing her face crumple a little at what he said, and feeling a small bit of satisfaction at causing it, Héctor could conclude he was just being petty. Letting his long-buried feelings of hurt and anger from his childhood come back up, he wanted her to feel even a little bit of the pain he had felt.

“No?” Nieve asked in confusion.

“Fine then, just one.” Héctor relented. “Are you really my mother?”

“…Sí.”

It was confirmed. Héctor felt his belly drop and he sucked in a quick breath of air before pursing his lips and nodding. Okay, that was all he needed to know. He could just leave and never see this girl again.

Girl…

“How old were you when you had me?” Héctor asked. “You look so young.”

Nieve winced and lowered her eyes. “I was fourteen.”

Perfect, just perfect. He was the product of a teenage love affair. But his quick flash of disgust was quickly subdued when he remembered he was not that much older when he and Imelda had Coco. He had no right to be offended by that, especially since he assumed she was unwed at the time she had him.

Still, she seemed so young.

“And… how old were you when you died?” He had to ask, fearing the answer.

“Fourteen.”

Ay, Dios.

“Wh-what?” Héctor choked out, suddenly horror-stricken. “You mean? Are you saying that I-… That it’s my fault you-”

“No no!” Nieve reached out to touch him before stopping herself and drawing her hands back. Still she dared to venture a step closer to him. “No, I didn’t die in childbirth. It was hard on me, but all ten pounds of you made it out in the end.”

“Hah, good.” Héctor sighed in relief and sagged back onto the crate. “I was worried that-wait, ten pounds?!”

Nieve nodded and for the first time her bony lips turned upward into small grin. “You were a very fat baby. The nuns said that meant you were healthy.”

Laying a hand against his flat stomach, Héctor shook his head in disbelief. “Well I can assure you that the fatness didn’t last long.”

Nieve’s smile faded, sorrow finding its way back. “Yes, I’m sure there were many nights where you went hungry. Didn’t you?”

There were. More than Héctor would have liked to admit. The nuns were kind and Padre Mateo did all he could to make sure that the children under his care were well looked after, but Santa Cecilia used to be a poor town and food was lean then. Many a night Héctor found himself curled into a ball with a fist driving itself into his cramping stomach, trying not to cry through his hunger pangs. Even now it was difficult for him to gain weight, no matter how much food was available to him. It had made a lasting effect on him.

As Héctor stayed silent Nieve studied him some more and hummed in approval. “You look like me.”

“I do?”

Nieve nodded. “Of course my facial features look better on you as a man, not so much on a young girl. I always felt I was too homely to turn the boys’ heads… until I met your father.”

“…What?”

“You look nothing like him, by the way. Well, you have his height and a full head of thick hair. All the men in my family were short and bald.”

“Wait, you… know who my father was?” Héctor asked, not sure how many more surprises he could handle tonight.

This time it was Nieve’s turn to look a little angry, crossing her arms across her chest and tsking. “Really now, I’m not some common street walker. There was one man in my life and one only.”

Héctor mumbled out an awkward apology and had the decency to look ashamed of his unintentional rudeness. Looking around he had to ask. “… Is my father… dead as well? I mean, is he here?”

With a disgusted shake of her head and a sneer, she said, “No, that cabrón is still alive. Only the good die young, they say. He should be about… sixty-seven right now.”

“I see… So he was young too.” Héctor concluded after doing the math in his head, relieved that his father wasn’t some viejo who had taken advantage of a young girl.

There was a pause, Nieve processing what Héctor had just said, her face thawing into something more wistful but still hurt. “Sí… He was sixteen, considered a man by society but… Dom was still in his boyhood in so many ways. He was so regal and charming, but he was also silly. I can’t count the number of times he made me laugh with his antics. And so handsome, he could have any girl he could have wanted. I still don’t know why he chose me.”

Héctor found himself listening intently as Nieve described the beginnings of his parents relationship, hungry for the information. It was only natural, being an orphan, that he would want some inkling of what his family was like.

“He didn’t live where I did in Guerrero, he was sent to stay with his tío to learn more about the silver mine business and was set to leave for home in the summer. I met him at a New Year’s Eve party at his tío’s mansion where my parents had sent me to work at as a waitress. I don’t know why he came over to talk to me, but we really hit it off. He didn’t seem to care that I was a poor, he just liked me for who I was. And eventually… we fell in love.”

“We spent an incredible two months together until the wait staff found us one day mid kiss, and of course they informed his tío about us. Needless to say his visit was cut short and he was sent back to Santa Cecilia while I went back to my parents in shame. It was during that time while I was dealing with losing the love of my life and my parents’ coldness and harsh punishments… that I realized that I was pregnant.”

Shifting uncomfortably, Héctor didn’t know how to feel about that. He sensed that this was where the story was about to take a dark turn, and that he was the catalyst.

“My parents kicked me out, naturally. My brothers and my sister wanted nothing to do with me, neither did my extended family. I was alone in the world, but there was one shining light at the end of the tunnel: To head to Santa Cecilia to be with your father.”

“It took months to earn enough money to cross the state line to get to Oaxaca, and even more to get to Santa Cecilia. By then you had grown so much, so it was that much harder to make the distance. But in the end I did it! I made it to Santa Cecilia, found out where Dom lived, and walked straight to his house. I was so happy to see him, and he… just…”

Héctor watched as Nieve let the sentence die off, almost looking choked up and about to cry. But there was also simmering anger in her expression as well. He could easily guess what happened way back when, and if she couldn’t say it out loud then he would for her. “He rejected you.”

“…He did…”

“But I don’t understand?” Héctor said. “I thought you said he loved you. Why would he-?”

“’Because I am the son of a family descended from the richest houses in Europe, and you are a filthy peasant that came from savages and slaves.’” Nieve spat acidly, like the words had been burned into her mind and left to rot for decades. “He called me a whore, told me to never come to his house again, and slammed the door on me. Oh, after asking his servants to gently escort me off the grounds. My arms were bruised for weeks.”

Héctor grit his teeth. “Bastardo… What happened then?”

“I was alone in a town I was a stranger in, but luckily the nuns took me in and helped me get settled in the church. At least until you were born I had a roof over my head.”

Héctor nodded with a small smile. The nuns at his church were stern, for sure, but they were always kind to him. But a thought still bothered him. “So you never tried to pursue my f-… Dom… again?”

Nieve laughed bitterly. “Of course I did. Several times. Never at his home, though. Ever since my arrival it was guarded like a fortress. He dismissed me very time until the last time. Then he got physical. He grabbed me by the arm tightly, so hard it hurt, and shouted at me to never bother him again, or I would soon learn that no one messes with the Cavalleros.”

….

….

“WHAT?!”

Héctor’s outburst startled Nieve into such a state that she automatically moved into a defensive position, looking like she was ready to karate chop the air. “What?! What’d I do?!”

Héctor started to pace the room frantically, wildly gesturing as he went. “The Cavelleros?!” he shouted. “I’m related to the wealthiest family in-Oh no, my family is the wealthiest now… But the former wealthiest family in Santa Cecilia?! In Oaxaca?! I mean they’re not wealthy anymore, just today I got a business request from Ignacio and his father Dom…in…go…”

The fire that had lit underneath him sputtered out until there was nothing left. Shakily he sat back down onto the crate, feeling like he was going to be sick. Domingo Cavellero, the man who had never once talked to him but had often sneered at him if they came across each other in the plaza when he was just a small boy. Who forbade any of his children to listen to him play music with the rest of the crowd. The man who had actually bought his shoes from Rivera Zapatos, though always through a servant instead of in person.

“Domingo Cavellero… is my father…”

“A father is someone who loves their children and raises them, that cabrón did neither. Just forget him.” Nieve said. “At least one of us has to.”

Héctor had to agree to that. Domingo never did anything for him, it was best to just pretend like he was just another citizen in Santa Cecilia. But then he thought back to what Leti and her had discussed before he entered the room, and things didn’t make sense. “You have an ofrenda. One that you refuse to go to… Is it his?”

“… It is.”

“Why would he have an ofrenda for you if he rejected you?”

“I don’t know, and I don’t care to know. He told me to never return to him, and I am content to do just that.”

Héctor could tell that she was not content at all, far from it, but Héctor was not about to argue with a teenage girl. Wait no, his mother. Damn, this was all so confusing. And some aspects were still not synching up.

“Wait a minute.” he said, “I thought I was abandoned on the church steps. Padre Mateo and the nuns never told me that you were there with them until I was born.”

Nieve’s eyes lost their fire quickly at that, almost looking deadened, and she quickly turned back to the window. Looking out into the fog, she stayed silent for a few moments to the point where Héctor felt like he had to ask what had happened. Then she spoke again, quietly, “I assume they thought it was best you didn’t know about me.”

“Why?”

“…Because the cause of my death was not… condoned by the church.”

Héctor was confused for about a second before the meaning of her words set in. With a quick intake of air he stared at her, heartbroken and a little angry. “Did you… kill yourself?”

Nieve kept looking out the window, trying not to meet Héctor’s gaze, and sighed. “You were such a beautiful baby; I’ll never forget the way you looked at me when you first opened your eyes. I could tell, even then, that you were going to be what your father wasn’t: A good person to his very core. There was only one obstacle, I thought, that was standing in your way of happiness. That was me.”

“I was so confused, so heartbroken, my brain was going crazy at the time. For weeks I tried to care for you, but every time you cried I felt more and more like a failure as a mother. There were times I would just stare at you as you cried, couldn’t make myself to move and reach for you for comfort. Sometimes I wanted to just shut you up for good, and those times scared me the most. It was when that darkness kept overtaking me that I made the decision to stop it before something terrible happened.”

“But something terrible did happen.” Héctor said, his throat constricting painfully. “You killed yourself.”

Nieve slowly nodded, still looking away. “I gave you one final kiss and left you in the care of the nuns. They had no idea what I was about to do until days later when my body, otherwise they would have tried to stop me... I walked down to the creek in the middle of the night, waded in, and let it sweep me away. December 31st, 1900. Exactly one year after I had met your father… I thought I was being very poetic, as most stupid little girls do.”

Héctor sniffled and scrubbed his face with a boney hand, tears blurring his vision. When Nieve finally looked back at him she was saddened to see them fall down his cheeks, but still she dared not touch him. “I’m sorry Héctor, but I thought I had lost everything. I felt I had no other choice.”

“You didn’t lose everything!” Héctor snapped, wiping the tears away. “You had me. All my life I wanted to know who my parents were and why they left me. And now that I do know I feel cheated! I could have!...” trailing off he pursed his lips tight, looking up at his mother with watery eyes. “I would have been a good son.”

That was it.

Without a seconds hesitation Nieve crossed the threshold and pulled Héctor into a fierce hug, pulling him close to her and knocking off her straw hat at the same time. It didn’t seem like it would be compatible for a teenage girl and a grown man to hug, but they fit perfectly together. Even though he had grown, and she remained the same, Héctor was still able fit into his mother’s hold. Hesitantly he put his hands on her back, eyes wide, before he too melted into the embrace. An embrace fifty years in the making.

“I know you would have been a good son.” Nieve whimpered into his ear. “You would have been the sweetest boy from the stories Leti has told me… And that is part of my punishment, knowing that.”

“Punishment?” Héctor mumbled.

Nieve nodded. “When I took my life I didn’t care about what happened next. All I wanted was for the pain to stop. But it didn’t stop, it stayed and grew. Only difference now is that I’m in this gaudy, technicolor party town where everyone celebrates their death and does whatever they want that they couldn’t do in death. While I had something so precious in my life that I couldn’t see through my pain. Now I’m just an old woman, living in isolation in the slums while pining for something that I threw away.”

Pulling back, Nieve cupped Héctor’s cheek lovingly and smiled. “You deserved so much better, Héctor.”

“So did you.” Héctor said. “I’m sorry your life turned out so bad in the end.”

Nieve shook her head. “It could have been prevented. I knew something was screwing with my head and I just let it fester. I should have just asked for counsel with Padre Mateo or the nuns, or maybe gone to the doctor or an institution. Maybe then I would have been a better mother for you, if I had just… asked someone to help me, I guess.”

Héctor felt something in his chest drop at what Nieve had said. That seemed… familiar. Staring off a ways, thinking about earlier conversations he’d rather be forgotten, he barely mumbled, “Yeah, maybe…”

Smiling tightly, Nieve pulled her hand away from him. “Are you all right?”

Sighing a deep, cleansing breath Héctor nodded. “I think so. I just don’t think my heart can take any more surprises tonight… But I do have one more question.”

Bracing herself to what it might be, Nieve wrung her hands. “Okay…”

“Why did you name me Héctor? Is it a family name or something? I just got teased a lot as a child.”

Sighing in relief Nieve nodded. “In a way. I named you after my pet pig Héctor.”

“… What?”

She nodded fondly, “He was a very good pig, so pink and squishy. Until he got too big, and we had to eat him. That’s probably why he didn’t turn up as my alebrije.”

“You named me after a pig?!”

“I was fourteen years old! Of course I would name you after something I loved! And need I remind you that you were a fat baby!”

Crossing his arms in a huff, Héctor seethed while Nieve continued. “I had a lot of good memories with that pig, thank you very much. Riding on his back, rolling in the mud, eating fruit and chapulines. They were good times.”

His pout fading away, Héctor looked back up at her. “Did you say chapulines?”

Nieve nodded, smiling again. “Sí, they’re my favorite dish. Dios, I must have eaten my entire body weight in chapulines while I was pregnant with you. Why?”

His lips quirking up, Héctor shook his head in wonderment. “No reason.”

Again there was a long stretch of silence between the two of them, but it wasn’t awkward or painful anymore. They just stared at each other, smiling in contentment and newfound affection, before Nieve finally sighed.

“You need to go. Get that curse removed.”

“Yeah… I do.” Héctor said, a part of him aching to stay with her and learn more. But staring down at his boney hand he knew that that wasn’t an option for him. He made move to leave when Nieve suddenly put her hand on his shoulder.

“Wait, one more thing.” She said with a warm smile. Bending down and picking up her straw hat off the ground, she shook the dust off of it and raised it up. “I know it’s twenty-seven days until your birthday, but since I’m fifty years behind on your other birthdays I need some catching up. It’s not much, but…Feliz Cumpleaños, mijo…”

Reaching up, Héctor touched the frayed edges of the straw hat that had been plopped down onto his head. It wasn’t much at all, really. Especially when he had designers to make proper clothing for him and his entire family. Not to mention he had never been much of a hat person outside of performing. But this was a gift from his mother, his first gift, and it had instantly become a treasured heirloom passed on to a son.

Still touching it with reverence, Héctor fought the urge to cry again as he choked out, “…Gracias.”

“De nada.” Nieve whispered. “Now go.”

With a jerky nod Héctor stood up and away, pausing at the exit. “I… I will see you again, right?”

“Of course. All souls end up here eventually, though hopefully you’ll last a few more decades yet.” Nieve said with a grin.

Returning the smile Héctor peeled back the tattered curtain and, with one last look back, was gone. Alone now Nieve let her smile fall, sorrow filling her entire being, and collapsed to the floor. Trying to suppress the deep sobs in her chest, Nieve couldn’t keep herself to comparing this last time seeing Héctor with all those years ago. With a little sleepy baby, innocent to the turmoil he would face without her, looking at her with half lidded eyes in the arms of a nun. An imaged practically burned into her retinas.

And as she wept she said the same thing she told him almost fifty-one years ago.

“Goodbye, my little baby…”

[streetknown-archive]

vera, like most poor kids born into heywood, was not wanted by her young mother. she was an accident brought on by an accidental pregnancy since she was unable to afford the contraceptive implant. vera’s name wasn’t given to her by her mother but actually by the padre of the church turned orphanage in night city. it was one of the few set up because lets be real, who actually gives a shit about kids from such a shit area. due to the church being the only one of its kind with a couple of nuns and priest helping run it, it was more often than not filled to the brim with children ranging from newborn babies to the maximum age of 16. the older kids were taught how to properly care for the younger ones because the nuns were overworked and needed help. they were strict but of course troublemakers are everywhere you go. and once you turned 16, you had to leave unless if you planned to dedicate your life to the orphanage to help. vera, of course, had no plans of staying. she left when she was fifteen because even though she was grateful for everything done for her, she was born with a rebellious kick and waking up at five AM to pray and do chores was not something she enjoyed. she liked the other kids-- made lots of friends, had her first two boyfriends (much to the padre’s dismay), but the life wasn’t for her.

so, age fourteen, one hundred eddies in her pocket from the padre, she left. used the money to rent out the cheapest motel room she could find. the first year out there by herself wasn’t easy at all-- but thankfully for her, the padre gave her his phone number so if she needed any help that wasn’t money related, he was able to offer tips and advice. he knew a lot about the streets because he too was abandoned by his parents as a kid. only difference is he wasn’t given the chance to be raised by someone who knew what they were doing, he simply relied on the sympathy and kindness of other street folk. 

vera had to start off doing extremely shitty, dangerous, and underpaid merc work to start building a reputation for herself. she was miserable and would come back to her motel room every day covered in bruises and cuts. thankfully for her, the padre who took her under his wing, sebastian ibarra, was able to pass the church/orphanage onto two of the nuns and he turned into one of the greatest fixers in heywood. because unbeknownst to young vera, the reason ibarra had enough money to run the church in the first place was because of illegal and shady jobs he was running on the side. it’s always been difficult to make honest money in night city but he was putting his money to good use. at eighteen, she was contacted by him with a big job to give her. no explanation, no answers to her puzzled questions about how did you even get something like this. just a promise of good money and a chance to finally move out of that shitty motel she’s been living in for the past two years. that job and ibarra led to her finding el coyote cojo and building connections there and also getting her own apartment, the same apartment she lives in now. 

so, yeah. you fuck with sebastian ibarra, you fuck with vera.

[steebharringt0n]

cat’s in the cradle

infant | toddler | child | teenager | young adult

a 5-part story exploring the relationship between billy hargrove and his first-born son, adam

pairing: billy hargrove x you

rating: t

a/n: thank you all for the feedback, this has been super fun to write so far and i’m so happy to see it receive so much love, if you’ve missed a part, I have linked them up top! enjoy!

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part 3 - child

“Ma! I can’t find my baseball glove!”

“Mommy, mommy, mommy!”

“MA! MY GLOVE!”

“MOMMY!”

Your head was going to explode if your children would not shut up.

The Hargrove household was in it’s usual chaos mode. Backpacks and shoes had a permanent place by the front door, the living room wall was adorned with pictures of the kids, pictures of you and Billy, pictures of you, Billy and the kids, and a couple with Max and your parents in them. It was Saturday morning and Adam had his championship little league game. The Sunset Cliff Tigers were on a hot streak and as usual, the four of you were running late because your husband just loved to take his sweet time showering. You were in the kitchen quickly stuffing snacks and drinks for the team, it was your job as the coach’s wife to always bring after game snacks - plus you always brought the best snacks.

10-year old Adam came rushing into the kitchen, his square glasses adorning his face as he frantically searched around the area for his lucky baseball mitt. His blond hair had darkened out as he got older, turning into a dirty blond that matched Billy’s hair. All dressed up in his yellow and white striped uniform, you heard the loud clacking of his baseball cleats roam around the kitchen.

“Adam, you left it in the laundry room” you casually told him, zipping up the large snack bag.

Adam blinked blankly, then quickly turned on his heels and ran over to the laundry room. You heard small puttering steps come into the kitchen, accompanied by a mischievous giggle you knew too well.

“Mommy, mommy, mommy!”

Ah, yes, Ava.

5-year old Ava Grace Hargrove was a carbon copy of you - minus the blue eyes. She had the same hair, same smile, same nose, and she even laughed the same way you did. 

But my god, was she nothing like you. She was everything Billy, and it terrified you.

The mere thought of her turning into an angry, rebellious teenager gave you nightmares. She was nothing like your sweet boy, in fact they were the complete opposite of each other. Ava threw tantrums, Ava hated eating her vegetables, and oh man, don’t even think about reading her a bedtime story - she found them incredibly boring. She was loud, rebellious, and had a knack for getting into trouble.

She got along swimmingly with her Auntie Max.

But she knew how to work her way around you and Billy. She had a look - pretty much the same look that Billy would give to charm his way through situations. She would hang her lower lip in a pout, bat her long eyelashes and suddenly you and Billy were turned into goo.

Billy more than you. She had him wrapped around his finger, she was always able to weasel her way out of getting into trouble when Billy was around. His little princess could do no wrong in his eyes. He was there for every boo-boo, every cold, every flu. He was incredibly protective of her, more than he was with you in high school, and that’s saying something.

With a loud sigh escaping your lips, you turned to face your daughter, “Yes baby?”

Standing barefoot, with her long barbie pajamas, she gave you a grin, “I want my cheerios”

You quickly whipped out a sandwich bag, shoving handful of cheerios and zipping it close.

Being a full time mom, and teacher had its perks. You were a master multi-tasker, simultaneously grading papers, cooking dinner, doing laundry, putting your kids to bed and still find time with your husband? You were like Wonder Woman in Billy’s eyes. 

You approached Ava, crouching down to her size. The bag of cheerios dangled in your hand, Ava went and tried to get a grab at it but you swiped it away before she could. She let out a angry grumble,

“You’ll get your cheerios when you go get dressed - we’re already late Ava Grace, I laid out your clothes for you on your bed, go change.” you ordered, your head gesturing towards her bedroom. Ava nodded at you, letting out a giggle before she scampered upstairs to her lilac colored room.

You scanned around the kitchen, making sure you didn’t forget anything else to pack. You had snacks, drinks, first-aid, sunscreen (yes, you were THAT mom). You heard the thundering footsteps of Billy come down the stairs, “Let’s go! We’re already late!” he shouted.

He poked his head into the kitchen flashing you a smile that still, at 30 years old, made you weak in the knees. “Ready momma?”

He donned on a yellow baseball cap, the words coach written in white, bold letter words. When Adam had expressed interest in little league, Billy jumped at the chance to coach his team. It was pretty much the only thing they had in common. Adam had no interest in cars, no interest in his dad’s lame old music, no interest in surfing, they had nothing in common.

Except for their love of baseball.

Billy and Adam held season passes to the San Diego Padres. They wouldn’t miss a game if their life depended on it. Hell, Billy even closed shop early one day in order to catch a game.

It was their thing, their little club, and your heart would swell when the two of them would come bursting into the house, their hands sticky from eating popcorn, their shirts stained with mustard from the hot-dogs, with large smiles on their faces, drunk on all the fun they had at the game.

Although they both couldn’t be any different, their love for baseball is what kept their bond tight.

“I’m waiting for our little hellraiser to get dressed” you told him, leaning forward on the kitchen island.

“My little Ava? My little princess who can do no wrong?” he dramatically feigned hurt, his hand placed over his heart.

He leaned over the kitchen island, meeting you halfway. Your noses grazed one another as you felt his minty breath on your face.

“What do I get when we win today?” he huskily spoke. After being together for over 10 years, you both were still crazy in love with each other since the first time he laid eyes on you when he walked into Hawkins High. Albeit you both were older, but his features had become more defined, his jaw more chiseled, his shoulders more broad - he still had that ugly tattoo on his shoulder (which both Adam and Ava marveled over) but he was still as sexy as ever.

“Hmm ... I dunno, maybe you’ll get to first base, maybe a little bit of second base ... not sure if you’ll hit a homerun though ... “ you playfully teased.

Billy’s raised an eyebrow, “Is that a challenge, Hargrove?”

“You bet your ass Hargrove”

“Ew, what are you guys doing?”

You quickly placed a peck on his lips as Adam’s voice broke the conversation between the two of you.

You smiled sweetly at your son who was now wearing a matching yellow baseball cap, walking over to him, “Nothing, did you find your glove?”

He pulled his old, ratted glove from under his arm, waving it in the air. “Got it right here, Ava! Let’s go!” he shouted at the stairs.

“I’m coming!” she shouted back, running from out of her room, her [Y/H/C] hair all wild as she carefully walked down the steps. All dressed up in her yellow overalls to match the team color, and white shoes, she looked absolutely adorable and for a second you forgot how much a little spitfire she could be.

“Daddy, daddy, I wore yellow for you!” she exclaimed happily, pushing her hair out of her face as she proudly showed off her yellow overalls. Billy scooped up his daughter, planting kisses all over her cheeks. He rested her on his hip, “I have my own cheerleader, whaddya know!”

You walked over to Billy and Ava and handed her the ziplock bag, she eagerly took it from your hands, and immediately started to shove the cheerios in her mouth.

The four of you quickly ushered out of the house, piling into Billy’s top of the line 1997 Honda CR-V, or as commonly known as, the family car. Billy’s poor old camero was collecting dust in the garage. He rarely had time to drive it around, but he knew one day he would pass on his first baby to Adam.

The drive to the baseball field was quick, but the crowds were already getting large. The Sunset Cliffs Tigers were going up against the Hillcrest Sharks - this was turning out to be a big game. Adam knew how difficult this team would be, but he wouldn’t let it effect his game. He didn’t want to let his father down.

Billy pulled the car into park, and Ava quickly jumped out of her booster seat, running towards the concession stand where you promised to buy her ice cream if she behaved well. You gave both your boys a good luck kiss (and a swat to Billy’s ass for good measure) as they headed down towards the coach’s box to huddle up with the team.

You caught up with Ava, who was having a hard time deciding on whether to choose chocolate or vanilla ice cream. Ultimately she ended up going with both. The two of you then found a spot on the bleachers, right behind the coach’s box as the game started to get underway.

The Tigers started out with a strong lead, hitting home runs left and right, but it was up until the 5th inning that the Sharks were quickly catching up to them. By the time the 9th inning rolled around the game was tied, 5-5, and it was a nail-biter.

Adam was on third base, he was so close to home base that he could feel it under his cleats. He pushed his glasses up, his neck turning towards you and Ava as you happily waved and gave him a thumbs up.

“You got this baby!” you shouted, Ava’s sticky hands that were covered in soft serve ice cream clapped along with you.

Suddenly, Adam got nervous. The crowds, the expectation, it all hit him at once.

He looked up at his father who could clearly read his nerves, and Billy called a time-out.

Adam jogged his way over to the coach’s box, a panicked expression on his face.

“Dad, I can’t do it, I can’t slide”

Billy crouched down to Adam’s height, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder, “Hey, hey, where did this come from?”

Adam shook his head, “I don’t wanna mess up, I don’t wanna lose.” Adam paused, sucking in a breath, “I don’t want to disappoint you”

Billy’s heart clenched at those words. It was like staring at a mirror when he gazed over at a nervous Adam. The painful memory of Neil berating him for not sliding properly at his own little league game suddenly entered his mind. He remember how terrified he was when Neil grabbed his arm, shaking him violently for not listening - for disappointing him.

For being a pussy.

But Billy isn’t Neil. He is nothing like Neil.

Billy placed both hands on Adam’s shoulder as he hung his head low. Billy lifted his son’s chin up, adjusting his glasses, and sweeping his sweaty hair out of his face.

“Win or lose, slide or not, I am proud of you no matter the outcome. You will never disappoint me Adam.”

Adam’s bottom lip trembled as he nodded at his father. Billy then stood up and engulfed his son in a tight hug. Billy pulled away, adjusting Adam’s yellow baseball cap. With a watery smile on his face, Adam jogged back to third base, a new wave of confidence instilled in him.

Jacob Richardson was up to bat, and as soon as the pitcher threw the ball, Jacob swung with all his might, the loud clack of the ball hitting the bat echoed throughout the field. All eyes were on Adam as he started to run towards home base. His cleats digging in the dirt, his arms woosh-ing by his side. He didn’t have time to think, but he went ahead and took the leap. 

He threw himself onto the ground, feeling the rocks pierce his skin, the dirt burning his arm as he slid towards the base. His glasses were complete dirty, obstructing his vision. He outstretched his arms until the felt the home base plate under him.

“SAFE!”

The crowd roared with excitement. Adam jumped up, swiping his glasses off his face to see his teammates rush towards him. Lifting him up on their shoulders and parading him around. You and Ava ran out to the field, running over to Billy who was being handed the championship trophy. You placed a big sloppy kiss on his mouth, he was grinning from ear to ear as you pulled away from him. Billy then ran out to his team, handing Adam the championship trophy as his teammates placed him on the ground.

“I did it dad! I slid!” Adam beamed, his entire face caked with dirt.

Billy swept Adam in a hug, “You did! and I am so, so proud you”

You and Ava ran out to the field, and as soon as Billy let Adam go from his hug, you pulled your baby boy and held him tight against your chest.

“Oh my baby boy is a little league champion! I am so proud of you!” you exclaimed.

“Ma .. you’re embarrassing me ...” he muttered as you started to clean away at his face. No son of yours was going to look dirty for the championship photo. You felt tears prick your eyes as you stared down at your boy, the pride you felt for him made you feel overwhelmed, and you had a take a second to calm yourself down.

You probably snapped a million pictures of the whole team, but the favorite picture you took was of the three people who you loved the most. Billy holding Ava in his arms, Adam standing right beside them with the championship trophy in his hands, showing it off with a proud smile.

After a long celebration with the team (with lots of cake and pizza) the four of you headed back towards the car. Ava being Ava, consumed way too much cake and had a sugar crash. She ended up passed out on Billy’s shoulder, crumbs of chocolate cake decorated her lips as small snores escaped from her mouth. Billy had his other arm wrapped around your shoulder, Adam walking right beside you with the trophy in his hands.

“So am I getting scoring a home-run tonight?” he cockily spoke in your ear, his eyebrows wiggling suggestively.

“Wait you guys are playing baseball tonight? Can I play?!” Adam suddenly interjected. Billy was apparently not a good whisperer.

Ava suddenly awoke from her slumber, her eyes wide and alert, “I wanna play too! I wanna play baseball! I wanna score homeruns!” she whined.

Billy’s eyes almost bulged out of his head, and you almost choked, “Ava you are never scoring a homerun” Billy managed to utter out.

This in turn caused Ava to start whining even more, and for Adam beg, to plead to play baseball with his parents.

Luckily they were too young to realize the sexual euphemism that Billy had tried on you.

You jabbed Billy on his side, throwing him a look, “Real smooth Casanova, real smooth”

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tag list: @the-first-breath-of-autumn-air @justabeautiful-letdown @fab-notfat @tarahell @noodlenerd101 @crazylittlethingcalledobsession @letdecemberburninflames @kake-babe @barbarasbae @delqcour @wearewiththebands @oogachuggaoogaoogachugga

[darkdevasofdestruction]

Leonardo da Vinci

@romanianbrotherhood    Since you wanted to be tagged~ ;)

As it was expected of all noble women in Italy's Renaissance era, they had to learn only how to be the perfect wives for their future husbands, chosen only to make strong allegiances between families, and create heirs to ensure the continuation of the renowned name. For the Templars especially that had to be ensured, in order to strengthen their numbers, overthrow any Assassin ruling and conquer the world, political-wise. That may have been the reason for the tremendous shock the Riario family had when their daughter, instead of behaving like a proper lady, kept exhibiting lack of manners and a love for the barbaric since very young.

How were they supposed to wed such an untamed soul? Who would be willing to take care of such an unruly child, if even her parents couldn't stop her from misbehaving?

Wearing breeches instead of dresses and a using a sword instead of a needle, she grew up to the ripe age of womanhood, and yet, her wildness only seemed to increase. Many suitors came to court her, yet they were all turned down before they could even introduce themselves, using a petty excuse at all times. That is, until her parents grew fed up, and at her mother's request, her father was to escort her to the house of the great painter da Vinci, known for his love of art and soft attitude, from which she should be able to learn. The plan was to let her there until she learns how to properly behave like a woman should, so they could finally give her off to some noble Templar. Clearly, she refused anything proposed by her parents, but with a slap on her face, she begrudgingly accepted the silly feat, letting her maid pack up whatever comfortable clothes she had and followed her father into the carriage, to the artist's home. He knocked on the door firmly, her hiding behind him, looking away and scoffing, until someone finally answered the call.

-?-: Buongiorno, Messer Riario! How may I help you today? Dad: Good day to you as well, Messer da Vinci. I have come with a little request, if you would. Leo: Si, signor, I am listening. Dad: My daughter, Y/N, is such an untamed spirit, unsuitable for marriage. My wife and I wondered if you could take her in as an apprentice or protegée and somehow make her cease her barbaric behaviour, we'd be eternally grateful. We will pay you as much as you need, weekly, only accept. Leo: I...Messer, that is a rather peculiar request...Although I suppose something like this wouldn't hurt anyone. Dad: Grazie mille di cuore, Messer da Vinci! You have my eternal gratitude! Leo: No need for such words, I'd be happy to help. Now, where is la bella signorina? Dad: She's right here, hiding behind me. Won't you greet this lovely man? Where are your manners, dear? Y/N: Um...Ciao. Dad: How dull of you. Can't you put a little more enthusiasm in it? That's why all those nice men rejected you. Y/N: Technically speaking, I rejected them. Dad: You're going to ruin your life if you continue like this. Nobody is going to wed you! Y/N: Oh, and what a pity. You know, there are other, more important things in life. Other than children bearing or marriage. Knowledge, for example. You wouldn't know, however, since you lack any sort of outer vision. Leo: Va bene, Messer, let's get her inside to settle down! I'm a busy man, I cannot linger much longer! Dad: Very well. Here is the payment for this month. Y/N, please behave. Y/N: Ci vediamo, padre.   (See you later)

One of Leonardo's apprentices carried her luggage to the spare room where she'll be staying. She sat on the bed, looking outside the window at the bright ray of light protruding her room, thinking of potential scenarios of her future. Leonardo was a famous artist with peculiar interests and even his speech seemed to betray a small speck of quirkiness, but somehow, he seemed to be rather...welcoming? In all reality though...Was it really such a horrible decision to learn how to defend herself? She wouldn't possibly want to become a damsel in distress or anything of the sort. And besides, training was enjoyable and relaxing, so why should she have stopped?

On the ground, on the nightstand, on the table there seemed to be sprawled papers and scribbled notebooks thrown in a rather messy manner. Picking them up one by one, she inspected each sketch, taking in every small, insignificant detail. She has never seen any of his famous works and seeing these scribbles now, she could see the life in them and the passion for learning and the unknown. She realised he, too, was one captivated by everything that seemed to terrify the mundane, and for that, she was grateful.

A knock on the door startled her, making her jolt up, looking at the intruder with the eyes of a frightened fawn, but soon relaxed under the calm, gentle gaze of her host, who seemed a tad spazzic.

Y/N: Uh...Ciao. Leo: Mi dispiace, signorina. I came to check on you and to... Oh, I see you've already discovered my discarded works. Y/N: They are beautiful...Why did you throw them away? Forgotten here, like the time? Leo: There's always room for improvement. Truth be told, I was rather unhappy with how they turned out, yet had not the heart to completely burn them. Y/N: May I...Keep them? They are rather inspiring. Leo: If my work can inspire someone with such a burning thirst for knowledge, then who am I to refuse your sincere request? Y/N: Grazie, Messer. Leo: Please, no need for these silly courtesies. Y/N: Suit yourself then, Leo. What are these, then? Leo: Ah, I see you stumbled upon my anatomical sketches. The hospital brings me bodies to study, hoping to help understand ourselves better and yet... Y/N: You'd need someone alive, huh? These drawings seem highly vivid though. I believe some imagination was required as well. Leo: There is only so much I can learn from living until they get creeped out. Y/N: *smirks* And what if I volunteer to be of any aid~? Would you paint me like one of your Italian girls? Leo: Would you allow me to? I suppose you know what that means, but- Y/N: Earn it and maybe I will slooowly allow you to peak and sketch a bit. Leo: You won't be disappointed!

And so, every week, the girl would allow her new friend to paint her, yet only the way she wanted, like reading lazily on the sofa, laying like a princess, or in the gardens, by the Spring flowers. Her beauty was ethereal, now that it was no longer hidden by a continuous burning rage and for Leonardo, it was definitely an angelic sight he loved to paint. And despite all his professionalism and the fact that he was truly dedicated and married to his work... He found himself wanting to paint her, not only for research purposes, but for something much more incredible and pure.

Despite all of her brash, 'barbaric' reflexes and the weird feeling of not having a weapon around her, she moved as graceful as a swan and her delicate touch would teleport him in other dimensions.

A fortnight later, the two grew more and more accustomed to each other, getting close and rather friendly, sometimes going out together to enjoy a fancy meal or see the beauty of the gardens, at night.

Nevertheless, as they were having a light conversation about the reason birds could fly, they were surprised by the door opening and a young boy in typical assassin garments, looking rather crestfallen yet pleased to see the blond man in front of him.

Y/N: One would say doors were invented for people to announce their arrival by knocking on them. Leo: Ah, there's really no problem, dear Y/N! This is Ezio Auditore, my friend. He's always welcomed here! Y/N: Thanks for the fun fact. I see you're friends with assassins. Wise choice, but rather risky. Ezio: You speak as though you are knowledgeable in the subject, signorina. Y/N: Of course I am. My father is a filthy Templar and I'm expected to be the same. Ezio: Templar...? Y/N: Ah, you don't even know your heritage, do you? Never you mind, learn more and perhaps I will tell you a story once you grow a bit older. Ezio: I'm pretty sure I'm older than you. Y/N: *grins* You'd be surprised, kiddo. Okay, Leo, he has my approval. Now, what is it that you want from us? Ezio: I was thinking you could repair something of mine. Leo: Ah, yes, of course!

As soon as Ezio put the pieces on the work table, Leonardo went full awestruck mode, saying how fascinating it looked and yet, got soon slightly disappointed that he didn't have the object's blueprints. Raising her eyebrow in confusion, the girl pointed to the scroll underneath the pieces, saying it might withhold crucial information about the alien technology. Gasping in surprise, he quickly started deciphering the code, shushing the poor Auditore and making him sit on the armchair until he was done with the repairing. She wouldn't admit it out loud, but seeing her new friend so entrapped in the spell of creation and learning got her to watch him more closely, her heart leaping with emotion at his enthusiasm. His fingers were working with such dexterity and ease as if he's merely sketching a tree and not repairing an ancient object with an even more difficult codex to read.

Poor kid already fell asleep soon after having sat in that armchair, yet it took Leo less than expected to fully repair what looked like a weapon bracer, possibly the assassins' legacy weapon and it seems like he also perfected it. Highly giddy, he woke Ezio up and told him about the requirements of using that blade...yet something seemed way off. There, in his gorgeous eyes, was an amused glint, sparkling with mischief as he saw the boy preparing his finger to be cut off with a cleaver. Much was his mirthful laughter when he just slammed the blade on the desk, near his finger, seeing his confused expression.

Not long after he explained the truth about the weapon, did another knock on the door disturb the peace. Clearly pissed off, the girl stormed to open it brashly, glaring at the guard in front of her.

Y/N: Now, what is it that you want? Don't you know it's rather rude to almost break that the door?! Guard: Uh...Are you Leonardo da Vinci? Y/N: Do I look like a Leonardo to you?! No, of course it's not me, dimwit! Now leave already! You're depriving me of my peace! Guard: Then, is it his residence? I don't have all day to waste with a wench like you, I am a busy man! Y/N: Oh, well what a shame it is! What is it your business with Messer da Vinci? Guard: It is strictly between I and him. Now run along! Leo: It's okay, Y/N, I can handle this. I am Leonardo da Vinci. How may I be of service? Guard: I need you to answer some questions. Leo: Certainly. Y/N: Outside, if you will? I do not want you polluting the air in our house with your filthy tongue. Guard: Next time you open your mouth, you will pay. Leo: Now, now, there's no need for violence. Guard: A witness saw you consorting with an enemy of the city. Leo: What? Me? Preposterous! Guard: When was the last time you saw or spoke to Ezio Auditore? Leo: Who? Guard: Don't play dumb! We know you were close to the Auditores! Perhaps this will help you clear your head- Y/N: I beg to differ.

Seeing the guard try to push Leonardo and bully him, Y/N got angry and punched him hard in the jaw taunting him. Clearly, he wasn't too good of a fighter either, since he seemed wobbly, so she took it to her advantage, took out the dagger from her sleeve, and twirling it around, lashed out at him, slashing his throat in one swift move. She looked at his shocked and pained expression as he fell, with a smug grin on her face, wiping the blood from her blade with her fingers.

Y/N: Perhaps being such a barbarian isn't a bad thing...Don't you think, dear friend? Leo: I surely can't deny that. Ezio: What happened here? Y/N: Ah, kiddo, you missed all the fun. What a pity. Ezio: You...?! Ah, nevermind, what do we do with the body? Leo: Just get it inside with the others. Ezio: The others?! Y/N: Well, of course. He's a scientist, you know? The city benefits from his knowledge. Leo: *shrugs shyly* Guess so. Ezio: *smiles* Bellissimo.

Many years passed, Ezio Auditore came to visit us quite often, offering a new Codex page with each arrival, always happy to see Leo's enthusiasm and hugging him.

As well as that, we had to move to Venice once and then to Rome, fearing for the boy's life, however, since he was framed so many times.

That is, until one day in Rome where we were working on commissions and works (where even I could help him despite only having painted for as long as we've been together), and Messer Auditore surprised us with a new acquisition. Unfortunately, we couldn't do much without Salai, the new apprentice, since he was away...again.

The bad part of this whole ordeal was that just as Ezio left us, a bunch of Guards got us out of the workshop, for a 'peaceful interrogation'. They started talking aggressively to Leonardo, which didn't do well with me in the slightest, and I went in front of him, standing in a fighting stance.

Y/N: Leonardo, run away while I keep them occupied. Leo: Cosa?! I cannot leave you behind! Y/N: D'you really think they'd be stupid enough to kill the daughter of the great Templar Riario? Leo: You cannot defend yourself, Y/N! Y/N: Now, that's where you are wrong, love.

Smirking, she easily ripped off the bottom half of her skirt,revealing her sword strapped to her leg on a holder, which she swiftly took out, pointing it at the enemies.

Y/N: I am Y/N Riario, daughter of a wealthy Templar and you, scums, better run away for I am done playing marionette for all his ridiculous schemes. Leonardo, I'm telling you only once to run away before I start killing off these roaches. Leo: I'm staying! Y/N: Suit yourself. Vittoria agli Assassini!

With that, she lashed out at the many enemies in front of her, slashing left and right with an unimaginable elegance and grace, her moves seemingly like ballet on a grand stage, being splattered with ruby droplets of blood from the ones attacking her and the person she came to have feelings for. She let her rage transform into focus and discipline, taunting the uneducated guards and making them lose their attention, as she easily severed heads and limbs. Nonetheless, her focus was broken once she heard a shrill scream from behind, which upon further inspection, was Leonardo running away, just as he was told. 'Good' she thought, as she continued fighting those bastards who thought defiling her home would be a good idea.

However, she was soon overwhelmed, since her father's army took over the place and captured her. Her interrogation wasn't easy, especially after admitting to side with the assassins. It seemed like an eternity, which couldn't have even been more than 2-3 days, until she was finally moved to what seemed like a temple, where to her horror, she saw Leonardo on the ground, his hands bound behind his back, and clearly beaten up, just like her.

Y/N: You...You monster! What has he done to you?! Nothing! He's innocent! Dad: No, he's not! He works for those filthy assassins! Y/N: Then kill me, instead! I killed your stupid Templars, not him! Dad: Silly little Y/N...Didn't I tell you I need you? Of course, only for some ties to be knotted together, but still, a very important role. Y/N: To hell with it! I'd rather burn in the deepest pits of Hell than help you or get married to some scum like that! Dad: Anyone can be subdued with just a little bit of persuasion...Quite like this.

With that, he kicked Leonardo's belly once again, earning a gasp of pain from the latter, and a protest from the girl. Protest, which was answered with a guard grabbing her hair tightly and pushing her to the ground.

Y/N: Tu, figlio di puttana bastardo! Tu, cane! Mostro! Bestia! I will kill you! Dad: I'd like to see you try, figlia.    (daughter)

With angry tears flooding her eyes, she took the dagger hidden in her sleeve, cut off her hair in a swift move, then got up as fast as lightning, cut the guard's throat and stole his sword.

Y/N: You and me, padre! Let us fight to death, if you're as brave and righteous as you say you are and we shall see on which side your God is! Dad: What a stubborn, ungrateful daughter I have raised! I should have had a son, not such a putana like you! Y/N: You wanted a son, and a son you got! Just, not in the body you wished for.

They fought as well as any soldier did, her father being if not, only slightly impressed by her sparring skills and the fact that, despite her injuries, she still held herself well against someone as big and built as he was. What he didn't know, was that agility and speed were her allies, and as she twirled to his side, she managed to thrust the blade into his throat. Blood gushed like a fountain from the wound and he fell to the ground gasping like a fish on the land, which made her smirk in satisfaction.

"And you were wondering why I wanted to fight...Now you know. Revenge is best served by your own hand."

With that, she kicked his body off the platform they were staying at and got her dagger to cut the rope from Leonardo's wrists, hugging him tightly.

Y/N: I'm so sorry you had to be brought up into this mess I created! Leo: Ah...I should have seen it coming. It wasn't your fault, dear, it was my own. Y/N: *sighs* I...I just...I don't know what to say anymore... -?-: You can start by kissing him? Y/N: Ezio?! Cosa diavolo stai facendo qui?! (What the hell are you doing here?) Ezio: *chuckles* Salini helped me get here. Leo: See, Y/N? He's not as useless as you thought he was. Ezio: Couldn't have agreed more. Y/N: Fine, fine, you might be right, whatever. Ezio: You have beautiful swordsmanship. I applaud you, bella. Y/N: *grins* Grazie, bambino. Ezio: *narrows his eyes* I still think I'm older than you. Y/N: Who cares? And besides, what got you here? You wanted to rescue poor, little us? Ezio: *shrugs* I think you had everything under control. However, this temple... Leo: Holds many secrets! Let's go and find them out! Y/N: Need I remind you you're incredibly hurt? Leo: Don't argue with me, you know I'm stubborn when it comes to things like this. Y/N: *eye twitch* Yes, I think I noticed that, when you just wouldn't run away when I told you so. Leo: *laughs sheepishly* Mi dispiace. Ezio: *sighs* Just kiss already. Y/N: What, and let you see it? No way, dream on! Vaffanculo, Auditore! Ezio: *laughs* Ah, you'd be perfect together. Leo: Ezio...

Grinning, Ezio patted his friend's back, who was hiding his face in his hands, shy and embarrassed. It took a while to get through the temple and even that proved to be rather disappointing, but at least back at out cozy home, we could finally mend our wounds and take care of each other. She sat on the edge of the bed, already in her loose, slightly translucent nightgown, lost in her thoughts, looking at the dark sky full of stars through the window, the multitude of candles lighting the room dimly. So lost in her own mind she was, that she didn't hear the door opening softly and Leonardo coming in. He walked slowly to the other edge of the bed, looking at her fair, slightly tanned skin that seemed to be plastered with purple-ish bruises and pink-ish lines like a spider's web spread across her whole back, which made the man's heart sink with sorrow. Clearly, he was an artist, a man of science and knowledge, not a fighter, and yet, a part of him cursed his soft nature for allowing the one he loves the most to protect him, and in turn, get hurt, permanent marks on her flawless skin kissed by the Sun's rays.

He didn't even realise his own actions until he moved her now significantly shorter ebony hair from her shoulders, revealing her bare skin and gingerly tracing down the small sleeves of the dress. She looked past he shoulder shyly, already knowing it was him, and smiled so beautifully that it took his breathe-away.

Y/N: Ah, mi dispiace, Leonardo. I suppose I won't be able to let you paint me any time soon. Leo: No, I...I should be the one to apologise for letting this happen to you. Y/N: Don't be silly. I was expecting that to happen sooner or later. And besides, I got my revenge, so I'm rather happy about that. Leo: But your beautiful skin...You had to suffer so much... Y/N: And so did, right? It's fine. It's all over now. We can finally live in peace and enjoy a life of art and research. Isn't that what we wanted? Leo: It is...And yet... Y/N: What is bothering you so, my dear? Leo: I...Think there's something wrong with me. Everytime I see you...I get this weird feeling in my chest end... Y/N: *grins* Do you remember what Ezio said today? Leo: Which part? Y/N: This part-

Tracing his face with her hand, she leaned slightly backwards so she could tenderly plant a soft kiss on his lips, still smiling at his forming blush. It seemed like fire ignited between them and a spark of courage surged through his veins, for as he looked in surprise and wonder at the girl in front of him, he embraced her tightly, kissing her again with just as much passion, finally understanding the peculiar feelings that kept bothering him for so long. It was a fiery love for the person in front of him, the strong yet fragile woman standing in front of him, her eyes big and gentle like those of a doe and a voice as sweet as an angel's (when she wasn't murdering someone).

He loved how trapped she would be in her own fictional world while reading a book or staring into nothingness and just thinking. He loved how perfectly well she'd blend among those colourful flowers in the garden, surrounded by the mesmerising perfume. He loved how happy she'd look when she'd watch him work or sketch something, explaining it to her. He love how she'd help him out with brilliant ideas everytime he got stuck on a piece of work.

And what he loved the most about her... ...Was the fact that she, too, loved him just as much as he loved her- And she never ceased to show him every day.

Y/N: So, Leonardo, amore, did you say once that you wanted to paint me like one of your Italian girl~? How about you get your charcoal and paints, I'm sure you'll be needing them for quite a while~. Leo: Si, certo, and yet, I think spending the nights with you, instead of my work, would be much better. Y/N: I couldn't agree more, mi tesoro~.  (My treasure) Leo: Ah, cuore mio, tu sei la luce dei miei occhi. (My heart, you are the light of my eyes) Y/N: E tu sei mi vita, per sempre.  (And you are my life, forever)

[pamphletstoinspire]

A Padre Pio Inspirational Story

John McCaffery - Part 1

John McCaffery was a man of many talents and accomplishments. In different periods of his life he had worked as a writer, a university professor, a journalist, and a business man. In Donegal, Ireland, he tried his hand at farming, which he enjoyed very much.

During World War II, John lived in Switzerland where he was the head of an underground resistance operation against the Nazis. It was in Switzerland that he first heard about Padre Pio. One day John’s confessor, Father Rizzi, gave him a book about Padre Pio. He told John that Padre Pio had the stigmata as well as many other extraordinary spiritual gifts. John accepted the book but knew that he would not read it. For one thing, John had always been skeptical about so called mystics and from what Father Rizzi told him, Padre Pio definitely seemed to be in that category. John’s intellectual mind set made him suspicious of any kind of supernatural phenomenon. As far as he was concerned, mysticism was something to be avoided. The book on Padre Pio would remain on his shelf, but he knew he would not open it.

The next conversation that John had regarding Padre Pio happened when World War II was coming to a close. John’s confessor at that time was a Capuchin priest in Milan, Italy named Father Gian Antonio. Father Gian Antonio told John that he had visited Padre Pio in San Giovanni Rotondo on one occasion.

During his visit, Father Gian Antonio noticed the great respect which every one of the Capuchins demonstrated toward Padre Pio. He told John that it was very impressive. He reasoned that the Capuchins who lived with Padre Pio on a daily basis knew him like no one else. Since their esteem for him was so obvious and so sincere, it was a good indication that Padre Pio was a holy priest. When Father Gian Antonio made his confession to Padre Pio, he experienced a deep and profound sense of peace.

After sharing his story, Father Gian Antonio gave John two photographs of Padre Pio. Still, John’s heart was unmoved. As time passed, other people spoke to John about Padre Pio. A friend invited him to go to San Giovanni Rotondo to attend Padre Pio’s Mass. John was not enthusiastic about the idea. Why should he travel such a long distance to attend Padre Pio’s Mass? There were many Catholic churches where John lived in Milan and Mass was said every day. Although he was reluctant to accept the invitation, John finally agreed to accompany his friend to San Giovanni Rotondo. He had been hearing about Padre Pio from various friends and associates for at least ten years.

All of John’s doubts about Padre Pio disappeared when he attended his Mass. Padre Pio radiated an aura of sanctity. The way in which he pronounced the sacred invocations had a powerful effect on John. Every word was spoken slowly and solemnly. The majority of those in attendance were poor people — farmers, laborers, and people of the working-class. John observed that all who were present seemed to be aware of the sacredness of the Mass.

On his first visit to San Giovanni Rotondo, John and several others were invited to visit Padre Pio in his cell. They were able to converse with him for over an hour. When it was time to say goodbye, John was reluctant to leave. Meeting Padre Pio and attending his Mass had been a far greater experience than he had ever imagined.

Three times a year, John traveled from Ireland to Milan, Italy where he had business interests. He would stay in Milan for six weeks at a time before returning to his family in Ireland. After his first visit to Padre Pio, whenever he could break free from his work, he would travel by train from Milan to San Giovanni Rotondo.

John soon became a familiar face at the monastery. Through his visits, he became acquainted with many of the Capuchins who lived with Padre Pio. Giovanni Vignolini, Padre Pio’s infirmarian, was one of them. Giovanni had access to Padre Pio’s cell at all times. He cared for Padre Pio whenever he was ill, which was often. He also assisted Padre Pio in taking care of the wounds of his stigmata. Giovanni frequently allowed John to accompany him to Padre Pio’s cell. Whenever John was with Giovanni, he was able to walk right past the monastery porter without being stopped and turned around.

As time passed, and through many visits, John and Padre Pio became very close. Often, when John’s friends learned that he was making a trip to San Giovanni Rotondo, they asked him to relay their prayer requests to Padre Pio. John knew that Padre Pio’s time was very limited. John came up with a good plan. Before he spoke to Padre Pio, he spent some time in silence in the church of Our Lady of Grace. One by one, he would recall each one of his friends to mind as well as their prayer requests. Then, when he saw Padre Pio, he would simply say, “I have these prayer intentions in my heart, not only my own, but also those of my friends, and I would like to ask for your prayers.”

On one occasion, John realized that he had made a mistake when he asked Padre Pio to pray for the intentions of his friends. As he was mentally going over the list, he had accidentally forgotten two individuals who had asked to be remembered in prayer. When John realized his error, he decided to tell Padre Pio. Before he could say a word, Padre Pio said to him, “Oh yes, don’t worry. I am going to pray for those two as well.”

John soon learned that nothing could be hidden from Padre Pio. He frequently read John’s mind by telling him exactly what he had been thinking. From time to time, Padre Pio would relate to John what John had been discussing with the other Capuchins. Even though Padre Pio had not been present during the discussions, he somehow knew all the details and could repeat the conversations almost verbatim.

Without ever seeing John’s business calendar, Padre Pio at times, would remind him of the appointments he had scheduled for the upcoming week. In addition, when John was struggling with a difficult personal problem, Padre Pio always seemed to be aware of it. John never had to explain anything to him. Sometimes Padre Pio gave John advice that did not seem quite up to the mark. But John soon learned that if he followed the advice, things would always work out to his best advantage.

On one occasion, Padre Pio said to John, “You have spent your life traveling from one country to another. Since the time of your childhood, I bet that you have never spent more than seven years in any one given place.” Later, John thought about what Padre Pio had said. When he did some calculations, he realized that Padre Pio had been right. Throughout his life, John had spent almost seven years exactly, living in one particular area before relocating to the next.

Those who were close to Padre Pio were well aware of his remarkable intuitive knowledge. Even though Padre Pio did not listen to the radio, read the newspaper, or watch television, he always seemed to have a complete grasp on world affairs. He could discuss international politics with remarkable insight. At times, he knew the contents of letters he had received, that is, before opening them. On one occasion, when Padre Pio was sick in bed, one of the Capuchins brought a number of letters and packages to him to be blessed. He blessed all but one item, which was an envelope. “I am not going to be able to bless that,” Padre Pio said as he pointed to the envelope. It aroused the curiosity of the Capuchins who were present in his cell. They later discovered that the envelope in question contained a betting ticket for the football game. Whoever had slipped it in with the other letters, obviously did not realize that Padre Pio refused to bless gambling ventures.

When John was a professor at the Genoa University in Italy, one of his students had a brother who decided to test Padre Pio’s powers of discernment. In the confessional, he told Padre Pio that he was there, not to confess his sins, but to ask for prayers for one of his sick relatives. It was not true. The young man did not have any sick relatives. The moment the words escaped his lips, Padre Pio became angry and ordered him out of the confessional. The young man soon realized the error of his ways. Not long after, he returned to Padre Pio’s confessional and apologized. He then made a sincere confession.

At the time of John’s visits, Mass was still said in the small church of Our Lady of Grace. On seven occasions, John had the blessing to be the altar server at Padre Pio’s Mass. One time, one of John’s friends hired a professional photographer to take pictures, not only of the Mass, but also of John assisting Padre Pio as altar server. He knew that John would treasure the photos. Padre Pio noticed the photographer in the church before the Mass started and spoke to him. He gave him permission to take no more than two photos. The photographer happily agreed. But the temptation to take more than two photographs evidently won out. During the Mass, he used two rolls of film. When he went to develop them, every picture came out blank.

Even though John would have loved to have had a photograph taken while he was serving Padre Pio’s Mass, he possessed something which he cherished even more — a precious relic of Padre Pio. It was a piece of bloodstained bandage that had covered his stigmata. It had originally belonged to one of the Capuchins in San Giovanni Rotondo. How the Capuchin came to possess the relic is a story in itself.

One day, the Capuchin asked Padre Pio if he would like him to carry some water to his cell. Padre Pio was happy for him to do so. However, the Capuchin had ulterior motives. He was hoping to find a relic in Padre Pio’s cell. He took the water to his cell, and once inside, he spotted some of the bandages that Padre Pio had used to cover his stigmata. He quickly pocketed them and was relieved that Padre Pio had not seen what he had done. Obtaining a relic was much easier than he had ever imagined. He decided to try his luck for a second time. The next evening, the Capuchin spoke to Padre Pio and offered once again to carry water to his cell. “Absolutely not!” Padre Pio replied. “I have a great distaste for thieves!”

On one occasion, when John was conversing with one of his business associates, he experienced the charismatic perfume of Padre Pio. At the time, his business associate was having more than his share of personal problems. While they were talking, John was wondering to himself whether he should say something about Padre Pio. The man was not a Catholic and John was certain that he knew nothing about Padre Pio. While John was turning the idea over in his mind, he suddenly perceived a beautiful fragrance of perfume. He believed that the fragrance was Padre Pio’s way of saying, “Yes, you should say something.” The man was very receptive and seemed genuinely interested in what John shared with him about Padre Pio.

John’s wife also experienced the extraordinary perfume of Padre Pio. On one occasion, while John was in Milan, Mrs. McCaffery wrote to him from Ireland, telling him of a problem concerning one of the family members. Shortly after she sent the letter, she became aware of a beautiful perfume that pervaded her home. She immediately thought to herself, “This is Padre Pio. He must be aware of the letter that I just sent.”

Shortly after that, John and his friend Piero Pellizzari were visiting Padre Pio one day at the monastery. Piero said to Padre Pio, “John’s wife had a wonderful experience. She became aware of your presence by the sign of perfume. It happened at her home in Ireland.” Padre Pio then looked at John and said to him very gently, “John, even beyond the sea.” He was referring to the fact that there were no barriers that prevented him from being with his spiritual children, wherever they might be.

Once, John met an American priest at the monastery. He told John that his short encounter with Padre Pio had been very disappointing. He had been offended by Padre Pio’s brusque manner. He told John that he would never again return to the monastery of Our Lady of Grace. Padre Pio had been rude to him in front of a number of people and what was worse, had declined to hear his confession. The priest was angry as well as hurt.

John told the priest that in the past, he too had occasionally experienced Padre Pio’s apparent coldness. Of course it was not a pleasant experience, but John had reflected on it and had been able to draw some conclusions. John realized that when Padre Pio treated him in a cold manner, the problem was with him and not with Padre Pio. It happened when there were sins in John’s life. John was very much aware of those sins and he knew by experience that they could not be hidden from Padre Pio. John told the young priest, “In my own case, I feel that if Padre Pio wanted to walk all over me, I would lie down on the ground and invite him to start walking.”

The priest listened with attention to what John told him and seemed very satisfied with the explanation. The next day, he was able to visit Padre Pio in his cell and make his confession. It turned out to be a grace-filled experience. Padre Pio accepted the priest as his spiritual son and a strong and lasting bond of friendship developed between the two.

John met another man in San Giovanni Rotondo who, like the American priest, found his first meeting with Padre Pio to be more than a little upsetting. The man was an industrialist from northern Italy. Thirty years before, he had come across a book on Padre Pio almost by accident. He found the book in a hotel where he was staying, and having nothing better to do, he read it. After he finished the book, he never gave it a second thought.

Later, the man became involved in spiritualism and took it upon himself to share his knowledge about the subject with his family. One of his sons took great interest in spiritualism and eventually became a proficient and successful spiritual medium. But tragedy struck the family when his son had a nervous breakdown. He finally had to be committed to a mental institution. His father was distraught, and while trying to think of a way to help his son, he remembered the book on Padre Pio that he had read some thirty years before. He decided to travel to San Giovanni Rotondo and speak to Padre Pio about his son.

At the monastery of Our Lady of Grace, he was able to see Padre Pio. But before he could explain the tragic situation, Padre Pio said to him sternly, “You jeopardize the life of your son and then you have the nerve to come to this monastery! How could you do that?” The man was shocked and angered. He left San Giovanni Rotondo and vowed to himself that he would never return. But later, having no other ideas regarding how to help his son, the man decided to visit Padre Pio again.

The second visit to the monastery was no better than the first. There were no words of consolation from Padre Pio, no offer of assistance, no sign of hope. His son’s condition showed no improvement. The man returned a third time to see Padre Pio. On his third visit, Padre Pio spoke to him and told him that his son would indeed get his mental faculties back. The words proved to be prophetic for his son’s condition began to improve. He made a complete recovery and was able to live a normal life, free from any mental impairment.

The man continued to visit San Giovanni Rotondo whenever he was able to. One day he was standing in the church near the area where Padre Pio was hearing the women’s confessions. Several times, Padre Pio looked up from the confessional and stared at him. Every time he did so, the man lowered his eyes. Finally, the man reasoned to himself, “Why am I lowering my eyes each time that Padre Pio looks at me? It makes no sense. If he looks my way again, I am going to look right back at him.” Padre Pio looked at him once again, and true to his word, the man stared right back at him. As he did so, it was as though two flames shot out of Padre Pio’s eyes, as if to consume him. He lowered his eyes immediately.

Once, on the eve of the feast of St. John the Baptist, John McCaffery and several others were engaged in a conversation with Padre Pio. They were standing together in the hallway right outside Padre Pio’s cell. “Well, John,” Padre Pio said, “since you share the same name as St. John, tomorrow is your feast day too. I will be praying for you as well as for your wife and children tomorrow at the Mass.” Padre Pio bid goodbye to the other men he had been talking with and invited John to come inside his cell to visit. However, on that particular night, John noticed that Padre Pio looked very ill. He was deathly pale and seemed completely drained of strength. Just as John entered the cell, Padre Pio started to faint. Luckily, John caught him before he hit the ground and was able to help him to a chair.

As Padre Pio rested in the chair, John noticed that his ankles and feet were very swollen. One of the Capuchins once described Padre Pio’s feet as looking like “two watermelons,” because of the swelling. Padre Pio’s personal attendant said that he was in a panic whenever he had to help Padre Pio put on his shoes. The slightest touch to his instep always caused him great pain.

John told Padre Pio how sorry he was to see that he was sick. He told him that he should try to get some rest as the hot temperatures of the summer months were upon them. The recent days had been particularly hot and uncomfortable. “It is not the days so much as the nights that cause me suffering,” Padre Pio said to John. Padre Pio held up his hands covered with the woolen half-gloves and confided to John, “The pain in these hands becomes so intense at night that it is hard for me to sleep.”

The next day, John visited Padre Pio in his cell once again. He seemed to be feeling much better. “On this feast day of St. John the Baptist,” John said, “I wonder if I could ask you for a favor?” “What favor would you like to ask of me?” Padre Pio asked. “I would like you to sign a holy card for me,” John replied. Padre Pio was happy to do so. John noticed that it was very difficult for him to hold a pen. The wound in his hand made it hard for him to wrap his fingers around it. It was also difficult for him to write legibly. John noticed by the expression on Padre Pio’s face that it was painful for him to write. Although John treasured the holy card, after seeing what it cost Padre Pio to write the personal message, he regretted that he had asked him for the favor.

John, on one occasion, felt an overwhelming desire to see Padre Pio. It was on the feast of Corpus Christi. John decided to take the train to San Giovanni Rotondo, even though he knew he would have to catch a train and return to Milan that very evening. He felt that if he could see Padre Pio that day, it would be well worth the long hours of travel time.

The feast of Corpus Christi was indeed a magnificent celebration in San Giovanni Rotondo. A full band ensemble provided the music while young girls in beautiful white dresses led the large outdoor procession, strewing flowers along the processional path. The Blessed Sacrament followed behind under its traditional canopy.

John had arrived in San Giovanni Rotondo in ample time and was in the church well before the festivities began. Unfortunately, he had not been able to see Padre Pio like he had hoped to. An announcement was made in the church that instructed everyone, both clergy and laity, to exit the church and assemble outside. The Corpus Christi procession was about to begin. Directly after the procession, John would have to catch the train to return home.

John knew that Padre Pio would not be able to participate in the Corpus Christi celebration that day. It would be impossible for him to walk in the procession. John was certain that Padre Pio would remain inside the monastery. His desire to see Padre Pio was so great that, instead of following the line of people who were exiting the church, he stayed behind. Quietly, and with great care so as not to draw attention to himself, John walked up the stairs that led to the choir loft. He waited there until he was certain that everyone had gone outside. When John was convinced that he was completely alone in the church, he left the choir and made his way to the corridor near Padre Pio’s cell. By positioning himself in the corridor, John would be sure to see Padre Pio if he left his cell for any reason.

As John waited, the thought occurred to him that Padre Pio might be angry with him. He had purposely disobeyed the instructions that had come over the church’s loudspeaker. Instead of exiting the church like all the other people, he had hidden in the choir loft. John knew that Padre Pio had a great respect for rules and made it a point to observe them to the letter. John had seen Padre Pio’s anger on previous occasions. It could be a shattering experience to be the object of his anger. The more John though about it, the more nervous he became. John decided that he better have an explanation ready, a line of defense, just in case he saw Padre Pio and found that he was upset with him. He would tell Padre Pio the truth. He would explain to Padre Pio that he came to the monastery that day because he had a great desire, a great need to see him. If it was simply a matter of attending the Gesu Sacramentato procession, he could have just as easily stayed in Milan. John turned the phrase over in his mind, “Gesu Sacramentato.” He was very pleased with himself for thinking of it. He had never heard it used before.

Suddenly John heard footsteps and then he turned to see Padre Pio coming toward him. John greeted him and said, “I was hoping that I could see you today. I hope you are not upset with me for staying behind in the church.” “No, I am not upset with you,” Padre Pio said. “Let’s go to the sitting room and have a visit.” John breathed a great sigh of relief.

John asked Padre Pio how he was feeling and he replied in his customary manner, “Let us thank God.” He did not like to speak about his health problems. By simply saying “Let us thank God,” to any inquiries about his health, he showed that he left all such concerns in God’s hands.

John and Padre Pio had a long conversation together and when it was finally time to part, Padre Pio said to him, “May the angel of the Lord accompany you always.” With a look of merriment in his eyes, he added, “Before you catch the train to go back to your home, you will have time to participate in the Benediction ceremony outside. The Gesu acramentato procession is just now approaching from the street.” That phrase, “Gesu Sacramentato” that John had been turning over in his mind and to which he felt a certain ownership, evidently had not been hidden from Padre Pio. ________

I feel a great desire to abandon myself with greater trust to the Divine Mercy and to place my hope in God alone. — Padre Pio

[mattchase82]

HhhhhStatements Made by Padre Pio, and His Answers to Questions by Cleonice Morcaldi

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Cleonice Morcaldi a Spiritual Daughter of Padre Pio and close Friend was born on January 22, 1904. From a numerous family, she lived in dire poverty childhood, adolescence, and study life, until she became a teacher. She met Padre Pio in 1920. Padre Pio showed a singular predilection for her. Her strong faith in God enlightened her life, and let her stick to what her eyes saw and what her ears heard. She relentlessly pursued the quest to know more and more of the flood of love that God had versed on Padre Pio. She made the wows of poverty, chastity, and obedience, and renewed them every year on December 8, feast of the Immaculate Conception. Through direct verbal interaction, and by question in writing usually passed to Padre Pio by Pietruccio the blind, - who also brought back the answers handwritten by Padre Pio, her unshaken persistence gave us a fascinating glimpse of the afterlife, and let us know some of what our eye couldn’t see of the gigantic battle going on between good and evil. Her fearless faith made her unique, and we are grateful for what she did. After the death of Padre Pio in 1968 she spent her life helping the poor and spreading Padre Pio’s message of unconditional love for God and the neighbor. Cleonice died on February 23, 1987.

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1.Padre Pio told some spiritual children gathered after confession: “I can forget myself, but not my children; I tell you that when the Lord will call me, I will stay at the door of paradise and I will tell Him: ‘Lord, I do not enter before I see that all my children have entered.’ ”

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Did you really say that? “I made this proposal to the Lord. I don’t know if He accepts it.” “I can forget myself, but not the children that cost me blood: I promise you that I will stay at the door of paradise until I will see in the last of my children.”

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2. There is a prophecy that a friar of Saint Francis will bring to God a third of the world. Padre Pio remarked “More, more.”

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3. Say something about Ascension. Padre Pio: “There are two ascensions, one to the Calvary, and the other to heaven."

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4. Did Jesus cry in Bethlehem? “Yes. He suffered like any other child.”

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5. “God doesn’t send souls to hell; they want to go.”

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6. Did the prophet Elijah die? “He disappeared in a chariot of fire. Maybe he is in paradise. He will come at the end of times to fight the Antichrist.”

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7. In Paradise, with all that multitude of angels and saints won’t be difficult to have one to one conversations?“We will be alone, even if we will be in company. Nobody will prevent us to communicate with whomever we want.”

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8. Was the serpent tempting Eve an animal? “It was the devil talking through him”.

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9. Where were the Angels before the test? “They were in another world.

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And After the test? “They went to Paradise.

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10. Why Jesus said to Mary: Don’t touch me. “To let her live of faith.” Didn’t she have faith? “No. Because she said: “Lord, if you were here my brother wouldn’t have died.’ “The centurion had faith when he said: You don’t need to come to the house. Just say a word and my servant will be healed.”

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11. Why did Judas betray Jesus? “For wickedness.” Peter disowned Jesus. “And that was a mortal sin.” John did run away too. “Yes but he didn’t disown.”

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12. Did they overturn the cross with Jesus on it to clinch the nails? “Yes.”

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13. Is there a shortcut to get fast to God? “The shortcut is Mary. Jesus comes to us through Mary”

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They say that the rosary is outmoded. “Let’s do the way we have always done. Let’s love the Madonna. Let’s make people love the Madonna.

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Let’s pray the holy rosary that She Herself thought us.”

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“He who prays a lot will be saved. He who prays a little is in danger. He who doesn’t pray is condemned."

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“He who prays a lot saves himself and saves others.”

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SAINT PIO ON HIS CELEBRATION OF THE MASS

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Father, what is your Mass?

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– A sacred accomplishment of the Passion of Jesus.

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– What should I comprehend in your Holy Mass?

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– All of Calvary.

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– Father, tell me all that you suffer at the Holy Mass.

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– All what Jesus suffered in his Passion, I inadequately suffer to the extent a human creature can possibly suffer. All of it at no merit of my own and only because of His Goodness.

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– Father, how could we know about your passion?

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– In knowing the Passion of Jesus, you will also know mine.

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– Do you have the agony of death, Father, like Jesus in the Garden?

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– Probably.

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– Does the angel also come to comfort you?

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– Yes.

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– What FIAT do you say?

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– The one of suffering, and always to suffer for the brothers in exile and for His Divine Kingdom.

.

– You also said..."and they will shout: Crucify him, crucify him!" Who will shout?

.

– The children of men... more precisely the beneficiaries of His death.

.

– How was Jesus after being scourged?

.

– The prophet says: "He became as a whole sore. He became like a leper"

.

– So, you also are like a sore from head to foot?

.

– And is not this our glory? If there is no place left for more sores, we will make sores on top of sores.

.

– My God, this is too much! You are, dear Father, a real executioner of yourself!

.

– Do not be afraid. On the contrary rejoice in it. I do not want the suffering in itself, no, but the fruits it gives me. It praises God and saves our brothers. What else could I wish for?

.

– Father. When at night you are scourged, are you alone or does somebody assist you.

.

– The Holy Virgin assists me, all of Paradise is present.

.

– Jesus has made me feel that you suffer the crown of thorns.

.

– Otherwise the immolation would not be complete.

.

– What sins did Jesus pay for with the crowning of thorns?

.

– For all, especially those regarding thoughts, not excluding the vain and useless ones.

.

– Father, do you have the thorns on your forehead or around your head?

.

– Around the whole head.

.

– Father, how many thorns does your crown have...Thirty?

.

– Ah...yes!

.

– Father, I think that your crown does not have 30, but 300 thorns.

.

– You get impressed because of a zero! Anyway, is not thirty contained in three hundred?

.

– Father, is it true that you suffer the torment of the crowning of thorns during the Holy Mass?

.

– And you doubt it?

.

– During the whole Mass?

.

– And also before and after it. The crown is never taken away.

.

– Father, do you also suffer what Jesus suffered during the Way of the Cross?

.

– Yes. But I wish to do so, in order to arrive at the point of suffering to which the Divine Master arrived.

.

– Who are your Simon of Cyrene and Veronica?

.

– Jesus Himself.

.

– Father, at the Divine Sacrifice, do you take our iniquities on yourself?

.

– It is impossible to do it differently, as it is part of the Divine Sacrifice.

.

– So, does the Lord consider you a sinner?

.

– I do not know. But I am afraid to be so.

.

– I have seen you trembling when going up the stairs to the altar. Why? Was it because of what you were going to suffer?

.

– No, not because of what I am supposed to suffer, but because of what I should offer.

.

– Father, what time during the day do you suffer the most?

.

– During the celebration of the Holy Mass.

.

– Father, do you also suffer during the day what Jesus allows you to suffer during the Holy Mass?

.

– I would not feel well! How could I work? How could I do my ministry?

.

– At which part of the Divine Sacrifice do you suffer the most?

.

– From the Consecration to the Communion.

.

– At which moment of the Mass do you suffer the scourging?

.

– From the beginning to the end, but more intensely after the Consecration.

.

– Father, why do you almost always cry when you read the Gospel in the Holy Mass?

.

– And do you find it little thing that a God talks to His creatures, and they react against Him? That he is injured constantly by their ingratitude and incredulity?

.

Why do you suffer so much during the Consecration?

.

– Revealing the secrets of the Supreme King is desecrating them. You ask me why I suffer. I would like to shed not a few tears but abundant tears. Are you not conscious of the tremendous mystery? God, Victim of our sins! And we are His executioners!

.

The awesome mystery of the Consecration contains the last hours that Christ spent on the Cross. The crucified of Gargano now relives at the altar, one after the other, each of the last moments of the Crucified of Golgotha. Let us keep in mind what the Gospel says about Jesus. Especially at the introduction of the Crucifixion.

.

Did the executioners turn the Cross around to clinch the nails?

.

– Naturally!

.

– Do they also clinch the nails for you?

.

– I think so!

.

– Do they also turn around your cross?

.

– Yes, but do not be afraid.

.

Father, do you also speak during Holy Mass the "seven words" that Jesus stated on the Cross?

.

– Yes, although unworthily, I also speak them.

.

– And to whom do you say: Woman, there is your Son?

.

– I tell her: Here are the children of your Son.

.

– Do you suffer the thirst and rejection Jesus suffered?

.

– Yes.

.

– When do you experience thirst and rejection?

.

– After the Consecration.

.

– Until when do you suffer thirst and rejection?

.

– Normally up to the Communion.

.

– Did the Crucified Jesus have His innermost Being consummated?

.

– You should rather say burnt.

.

– For what did the Crucified Jesus thirst?

.

– For God’s Kingdom.

.

You told me you were ashamed of pronouncing this phrase: "I looked for someone to comfort me, but found none." Why?

.

– Because our suffering is insignificant compared to the real suffering Jesus experienced.

.

– In front of whom do you feel ashamed?

.

– In front of God and in front of my conscience.

.

What did the Virgin do at the feet of the Crucified Jesus?

.

– She suffered watching her Son suffer. She offered to the Eternal Father her pain and the sufferings of Jesus for our salvation.

.

What is the Sacred Communion?

.

– It is interior and exterior Mercy. A total Embrace. Do not stop begging Jesus to make Himself sensibly noticed.

.

– Where does Jesus kiss you?

.

– He kisses me all over.

.

– When Jesus comes, does he visit only the soul?

.

– The entire being.

.

– What does Jesus do at Communion?

.

– He delights in His creatures.

.

– Is Communion an incorporation?

.

– It is a fusion. Like two candles that fuse together and cannot be distinguished one from the other.

.

– When you join Jesus in Holy Communion, what should we request the Lord for you?

.

– To let me be another Jesus, all Jesus, always Jesus.

.

Where did the dying Jesus look in His last gaze?

.

– Towards His Holy Mother.

.

How will our meeting with Jesus in Heaven be?

.

– Oh!… The Eucharistic could give us an idea.

.

Such was Padre Pio`s Mass, and not only men attended it:

.

– Does the Most Blessed Virgin Mary attend your Mass?

.

– Do you think the Mother is not interested in Her Son?

.

– Do angels attend your Mass?

.

– In legions!

.

– What do they do?

.

– Adore and praise.

.

– Father, who is closest to your altar?

.

– All of Paradise.

.

Father, does the Lord love the Sacrifice?

.

– Yes, because with It He has regenerated the world.

.

– How much glory to God does the Mass give?

.

– An infinite glory.

.

– What should we do during the Mass?

.

– Be compassionate and love.

.

– Father, how are we supposed to listen to the Mass?

.

– The way the Blessed Virgin and pious women attended to the tragedy of Calvary. The same way John attended the Eucharistic Sacrifice and the bloody Sacrifice of the Cross.

.

– What kind of fruits do we receive when we hear the Mass?

.

– They cannot be enumerated. You will know it only in Paradise.

[polyglotinprogress]

pictured above: Violeta Parra. [1] 

La Nueva Canción Chilena was a social movement as much as it was a musical one. In this case, the music not only reflected the conflicts of the time period, but actively influenced politics, as many of the key figures were active members of the Communist Party. They collected and composed folk songs that reflected the lives of the poor and working class, songs that criticized the government, and generally songs that were profoundly local in theme. This was a movement that decided to reject imported U.S. culture and tried to develop more of a national identity, using native instruments (Andean flutes, panpipes, charango, guitarrón, etc.) and traditional songs. 

The artists of this movement typically supported the Popular Unity party, which was a coalition of several leftist parties that successfully elected Salvador Allende in 1970. However, in 1973, Allende was ousted by a military coup backed by the C.I.A. The U.S. was concerned about socialist revolutions spreading throughout South America during the Cold War, and supported general Pinochet’s dictatorship until it was replaced in 1988 by a national plebiscite. From 1973 to 1988, the Nueva Canción movement was essentially alive only in exile, where many musicians worked to raise awareness of the political situation in Chile. The movement had been so influential that even the musical instruments associated with it were banned during the Pinochet years [2] [3]. I don’t have space to cover all of the artists associated with this movement, but we’ll hit the basics. 

1. Violeta Parra (1917-1967). The entire Parra family is pretty famous, but it is difficult to overstate Vioieta’s influence in particular. She is known (among other artistic endeavors) for collecting and recording traditional folk music and generating interest in the genre both domestically and abroad. Additionally, she created a sort of forum (it was like a really big tent) where artists met, performed, and talked. She committed suicide in 1967. There’s a really great film about her called Violeta se fue a los Cielos, if you’d like to learn more about her life and influence. 

Typically her most beloved songs are Gracias a la Vida and Volver a los 17, which are far more personal than political. However, she also wrote songs like Qué dirá el Santo Padre?, which is about the execution of a Communist leader under Franco (more about that here). Violeta’s work in my mind is typically far more poetic, raw, emotional, and haunting than particularly militant, but she undoubtedly set the stage for what was to come. 

2. Victor Jara (1932-1973). Victor became probably the most iconic symbol of this movement, not only because of how impactful he was during his lifetime, but also because of his tragic death. He was tortured and murdered in the National Stadium for his involvement in the song movement and Communist activism, as he was a well-known subversive figure. Allegedly, a soldier broke his hands as a way to mock him and permanently prevent him from playing the guitar before killing him--although the exact circumstances of what happened remain somewhat unclear [4].  

To me, his most essential songs include Vamos por ancho camino, Plegaria a un labrador, and El derecho de vivir en paz, which are essentially political calls to action. Additionally, Preguntas por Puerto Montt is a beautiful, haunting piece about a massacre at an impoverished encampment that had “illegally” settled a piece of land that developers wanted to use (read more). Te Recuerdo, Amanda is a more personal song (Amanda and Manuel in the lyrics are also the names of his parents), and has become a classic. To understand more complexly the background behind his work and what he was trying to accomplish, I recommend this interview. I think we can fall into the trap of interpreting these musicians through the lens of the present, and assigning meaning to it based on what we know now--the aftermath of the Cold War, current political struggles, etc.--and so I would advise anyone interested to look into how these artists described their music in their own words at the time.    

3. Quilapayún. Quilapayún was made up of a group of students who initially began working closely with Ángel Parra (Violeta’s son) and Victor Jara, and was known for using a lot of traditional instruments and also for wearing black ponchos. The members fluctuated over the years and additionally they worked to popularize this type of music among students who created their own bands, so there were, for a while, various groups using this name, which comes from the Mapudungun word for “three beards.” However, the main/original group lived in exile in France during the Pinochet years, where they worked to raised global awareness of the political situation in Chile [5]. 

The chant “el pueblo unido jamás será vencido,” which is still widely used in protests, is taken from one of their most iconic songs. Venceremos is also a significant song originally used in support of Allende and later in protest of Pinochet, and has been interpreted by many groups. Personally, I like the song La Muralla.  

4. Inti-Illimani. Similar to Quilapayún, Inti-Illimani was composed of a group of university students who lived in exile in Italy after 1973. Their sound, to me, is similar to Quilapayún but incorporates different styles of music that they learned abroad, like in their beautiful album Viva Italia. 

To understand the sound and background of this group, I’d check out their first album, Si somos americanos. I’m also personally very fond of their interpretation of Victor Jara’s Angelita Huenuman and La Partida. They have a lot of beautiful, acoustic music with strong male harmonies. 

5. Los Jaivas. Los Jaivas has a different sound, more of a fusion of a lot of different genres, that if I had to give a name to it, I would probably call “Andean rock.” They have a more experimental and psychedelic sound. Los Jaivas is less political than the previous groups, and more of an attempt to blend folk lyrics and instruments with progressive rock, but they come out of this same wave. Try listening to La Conquistada to see what I mean. 

To gain an appreciation of this group, I would start with the album Alturas de Machu Picchu, which puts some of the poetry of Pablo Neruda to music and is generally considered their best album [6]. This is probably the most accessible group to anglophones who enjoy music like Santana and Jimi Hendrix. 

While this movement tapered off with the end of the Pinochet years, its social influence was enormous. While Chile had (and has) musicians of many different genres, it is this movement that gained worldwide attention, and whose music raised awareness of the problems of poverty, imperialism, and violence in Chile. These songs also worked to foster ideas of brotherhood and hope for the future during a very turbulent time, and are still well-known and beloved today.    

[anastpaul]

Saint of the Day – 11 May – St Ignatius of Laconi O.F.M. Cap. (1701-1781) Franciscan of the Order of Friars Minor Capuchin born as Vincenzo Peis on 17 December 1701 at Laconi, Nuoro, Italy and died on 11 May 1781 in Cagliari, Italy of natural causes.  Known as  “the Holy Friar,” “the Apostle of the Streets, “ “the Wonder-worker”,  “the Miracle-Worker” and “Padre Santo.”     His conquering a serious illness prompted him to consecrate his life to God and therefore entered the religious life though not as an ordained priest.   Peis was better known in Sardinia for his humble demeanour coupled with his concern for those who were poor.   He mingled with all people he met and was generous towards those who were ill.   But he became known as something of a wonder worker during his life and he had performed 121 miracles during his life. Patronages-Oristano, Students, Beggars.

Vincenzo Peis was born on 10 December 1701 in Sardinia as one of seven children to the poor peasants Mattia Peis Cadello and Anna Maria Sanna Casu.   He was baptised as “Francesco Ignazio Vincenzo” since he was born out of a difficult pregnancy in which her mother invoked the intercession of Saint Francis of Assisi.

Ignatius worked on the fields to support his parents.   He suffered a serious illness circa 1719 (aged seventeen) that made him vow that he would consecrate himself to God and join the Order of Friars Minor Capuchin if he managed to recover from it.   He did so recover but put off the fulfilment of his vow after his father convinced him to wait;  his father was anxious about it because he depended on Ignatius for support in the fields. But there seems to be some indication that his parents objected to his entering the order. In 1721 he was in danger once more when the horse he was riding panicked.   He could have been thrown off but he called upon the assistance of Saint Francis of Assisi and renewed the vow he had made during his illness.   This time his parents did not raise objections to his becoming a friar and granted him their blessing.   In his childhood he often called the local church his “home” and took St Lawrence of Brindisi (1559-1619) as his personal role model.

He asked for admission at the convent in Cagliari but the superiors there hesitated because of his delicate health.   He then called upon an influential friend who interceded for him and he was allowed to be received into the novitiate on 10 November 1721. Ignatius made his profession on 10 November 1722.    Despite his infirmities his ardour allowed him to attend the spiritual exercises of the order and to excel in perfection of his observance of the order’s Rule.   From 1722 until 1737 he worked at the house’s weaving shed and from 1737 onwards was an alms beggar.

Ignatius spent his time in a number of different occupations and was later appointed as the quester of alms due to his humble and modest conduct.   He had good relations with the people in Cagliari who realised that although he was begging alms, he was also giving back to them in a spiritual manner.   His modest demeanour was seen as a quiet sermon for all who saw him going about which made him a noted figure.,, He seldom spoke; when required he spoke with exceptional kindness and great affection.   He would also instruct the children and the uneducated that he came across as well as going out to comfort the sick and urging sinners to be converted and to do penance.

There is a legend that he was known for his strict and total obedience to his superiors even when it required the denial of his own will.   He was accustomed to go to the house of an usurer because he feared that in accepting an alms from him he would share the guilt of this man’s injustices.   But when the man complained and the superior commanded him he accepted alms from the man.   It was when he returned that he opened the sack that the usurer offered and blood started to flow out.   To those around him the saint said:  “This is the blood of the poor squeezed from them by usury”.

His sister had often written to him asking him to visit her so that she could get his advice in certain matters.   Brother Ignatius had no mind to heed her request but when his superior ordered him to do so he at once undertook the visit.   But he left again as soon as he had given the required advice.   His brother was sent to prison and it was hoped that – in view of reputation of Brother Ignatius – the latter could obtain his brother’s release.   His superior sent him to speak to the governor but he asked that his brother be dealt with according to justice.

Despite his poor health and other infirmities he continued on in his work no matter how arduous it seemed.   Even after he became blind in 1779, he continued to work on for the benefit of those around him. Ignatius died on 11 May 1781 at 3:00pm in Cagliari where his remains were interred.

St Ignatius’ grave soon became a place in which miracles flourished and this was one dimension towards the opening of his cause for canonisation.   He was beatified on 16 June 1940 and was Canonised on 21 October 1951 by Pope Pius XII.  

(via Memorials of the Saints - 11 May)

[morsmordrehasbeensaved]

CONGRATULATIONS HALEY, YOU HAVE BEEN ACCEPTED AS BENITO ORTIZ WITH THE FACECLAIM OF ETHAN CUTKOSKY!

Halsey!!! You know I absolutely adore all of the characters you already have, but I think Benito might be my new favorite! The amount of detail you put in and the dedication you show to this character was absolutely spectacular, and I can not wait to have him on our dashboards

Check out our acceptance checklist right here on what to do next!

♔ OUT OF CHARACTER INFO ♔

NAME/ALIAS:

Haley

AGE:

20

PREFERRED PRONOUNS:

She/Her

TIMEZONE & ACTIVITY:

PST (damn..) and Hella Active

TRIGGERS:

nah

ANYTHING ELSE:

nah

♔ IN CHARACTER INFO ♔

FULL NAME:

Benito Carlos Ortiz, with a few select people who call him Benny

FACECLAIM:

Ethan Cutkosky

BIRTHDAY AND AGE:

December 10th, 1961. He just turned 17.

HOUSE AND YEAR:

Sixth Year, Hufflepuff

AFFILIATION:

Neutral as hell

BLOODSTATUS:

Muggleborn

PRONOUNS:

He/Him

SEXUALITY/ROMANTIC ORIENTATION:

Just a regular ole’ straight guy. Heterosexual/romantic

EXTRACURRICULARS:

Art Club

DESCRIPTION:

You’ve never been give a fair shot at the shiny things in life, and this has left you bitter, distrustful, and angry. No matter how hard you’ve worked, you’ve never been able to have what other people have. So, you’ve decided that you’ll just start taking them for yourself. The muggle world let you down, and so has the wizarding world, and you’re starting to believe that there is no such thing as a good person, only those that are willing to take their lives into their own hands. With your work ethic, and your creativity at solving seemingly impossible problems, you know that everything is yours for the taking. So, go on and take it.

PERSONALITY TRAITS:

(-) Audacious: Living in the slums, as well as being the youngest of his siblings forced Benito to learn how to stand up for himself. Whether that meant fighting with his older brother and sister to get the most comfy spot on their shared bed, or if it meant a risky steal so that he could put some food in his belly later that night. To survive in the area he did, one had to learn to be brave, or else they would never make it. It also gave Benito a certain aggression against the “haves”, considering he was decidedly a “have not” so sometimes, he just like to steal the purse of some rich old lady when she wasn’t looking. Sometimes it was for survival, sometimes it was not.

(-) Fierce: It was hard to make it in Benito’s house, and in order to be heard, one had to be loud and proud in their emotions. He feels things intently, whether that be happiness or anger. If happy, he might dance like fool or shout giddily into the air. If angry, he’s prone to throwing objects and is more than willing to get violent. While sometimes this helps Benito, more often than not, it doesn’t make things better.

(-) Hedonistic: Being forced to live a life that withheld a lot of life’s pleasures (vacations, good food, a room of his own, etc) has led Benito to believe that he ought to snatch up fun whenever he sees it. Unfortunately, this can manifest in both good and bad ways. Sometimes, it could be good. He might skive off class to work on a sculpture, but he also would never tell anybody no for a drink, even if he might have a class later that day to show up for.

(-) Greedy: Growing up as neglected and poor as he was, he has a tendency to seek out the better things of other people. He wants to have the same luxuries as other people, and is angry about how hard it is. He’s come to believe that he deserves what they have, and will take any measure to get there. Money is important to him, perhaps too much, and it is his main thing that drives him.

(+/-) Bold/Brash: Benito wasn’t scared of anything, at least nothing so far. Sometimes, it was to his benefit, because more often than not, most people assumed he was bluffing when he said he wasn’t afraid to fight. Other times, it was to his detriment, like when he attempted to curse someone of a far superior dueling skill. There isn’t much that he isn’t willing to do if he truly wants to, and there isn’t a single person he would back down from, for better or, for worse.

(+) Hard-working: Laziness wasn’t an option for Benito, not if he wanted a new pair of shoes, or the really cool toy that everyone else in primary school had. Or, at the worst of times, if he wanted to eat. In the Ortiz house, everyone worked for their share, from the moment they were able. He had to throw himself into what he was doing, no matter what it was, and it created within him an excellent work ethic. However, he is only hardworking on the things he feels have value, not those imposed on him by other people. He has his own goals in mind that are often different to those around him, and that is what he is always working towards.

(+) Confident: Benito is a hard worker, and he’s creative too. He has all of the traits to put his ideas into motion, and this has given him confidence. He trusts in his ability to follow through with his plans, and he knows that if he works hard enough, he can accomplish any goal he sets his mind too. Whether the goal be to beat someone up in a fight, or to best them in a duel, or to get Imogen to forgive him for something stupid he did, or to find a way to steal that necklace from that new Gryffindor girl without her noticing. He can do it, he knows it.

(+) Vivacious: Benito’s life was rough, yes, but it was not all bad. All of his family were very loud and outspoken people who knew how to have a good time. If there wasn’t a fight occuring in the house, then there was a party. His father’s laugh was booming and loud, and his mother spoke too excitedly when she was having fun. His brother often like to dance around the kitchen, and his sister was never afraid to trap Benito in a friendly headlock. This has given him an appreciation for fun, and the good times in life. He enjoys them wholeheartedly, and without reservation.

(+) Loyal: Benito is not a very trusting boy. He’s been let down too many times in his life for him to find it easy to trust someone, or something. It takes a long time for him to let down his walls enough to truly dedicate himself to something, but once he does, he extremely dedicated. He will do anything, no matter the risks, if it something he believes in. He’s committed to Imogen, and would do anything for her. He’s committed to the pursuit of money, and damn it, he would be rich one day. He’s committed to his family, and helping them make it in the world. It would be a cold day in hell for Benito Ortiz to back away from something he has pledged himself to

BIOGRAPHY:

“Names and attributes must be accommodated to the essence of things, and not the essence to the names, since things come first and names afterwards.” That was a quote from Galileo, some scientist, or whoever, that he had heard a little about during his primitive years of schooling. Benito Carlos Ortiz put a lot of stock into names, as was tradition among his father’s side of the family. Benito’s father, Hernando Ortiz, was born in Mexico during the winter of 1930. His name meant adventurous, as would prove to be true when the young boy grew up. Mexico was experiencing a lot of change during Hernando’s youth. President Cárdenas rose into power when Hernando was a boy, and began attempting to enact a vast amount of social change. However, the Ortiz family was very poor, living in a small rural village, and many of these benefits never reached them. They stayed in a single room shack together: his mother, his father, and all four of his siblings. Life was hard, and Hernando felt as he got older that it only got even more difficult. When Hernando was ten years old, World War II was ravaging the world, and his father enlisted in the Mexican Army, which was planning to help America after the attack on Pearl Harbor. That was the last time that Hernando ever saw his padre. Six years later, Mexico had a new leader: President Alemán. Life had been tough, and scary ever since his father had died, and things were more divided than ever between the rich and the poor. So, with one bag tossed over his shoulder, Hernando walked away from his village at the tender age of sixteen, to see if he might fair better somewhere else in the world.

He snuck upon a supply ship to Portugal and lived off of the few items of food he had brought with him. When that ran out, he ate the rats that scurried to and fro across the lower deck. It was hard, but Hernando was used to such things. Eventually, however, he reached Portugal, and life truly began. He spent a year in Portugal, sometimes managing to scrounge enough money to stay in an inn, but lots of times he just had to sleep on the street. After Portugal, he headed to France, hoping he might have better luck in the Country of Love. However, he didn’t find it quite to his liking, and quickly moved on over to Spain. Hernando loved Spain a lot, for he knew the language they spoke. He’d had quite a rough time these past two years, struggling to learn different languages in order to converse with the people around him. Spain was a nice break from this. He was seventeen when he arrived in Spain, and he stayed there until nearly his twentieth birthday. He worked a variety of odd jobs and stayed in a small, rundown flat with three amigos he’d met at work. However, as his name demanded, Hernando had a thirst for adventure, and eventually, he moved on. From Spain, he headed to Great Britain. As with France, he didn’t stay long, and moved again before the year ended. From Britain, he headed to Northern Ireland, Belfast specifically, where he would find himself staying for quite a long time. It was on his twenty second birthday when he got the job at the local Ship Carpentry. It was fine work for a single man, and he was happy where he was.

Two years after his move to Ireland, in the year 1954, Hernando met Annabel Buckley.

Annabel was also born in the winter, but in the year 1938. Her name meant delight to be around, and the surname of Buckley meant servant. Both of these things would prove true, for awhile anyways. Annabel was born into a quaint, small, and loving Irish family. She had an older sister, whom she loved dearly, and she got on splendidly with her mother and father, as most toddlers did. When she was of the tender age of three, Annabel’s mother was killed in the 1941 bombings of Belfast. At the time, Annabel’s father was fighting on the war front against Germany, where he too succumbed to battle. This left Annabel and her older sister alone and orphaned. Annabel doesn’t remember this too much, considering her young age. Her older sister, however, worked hard to make sure that the pair was provided for. Eventually, after an entire year of living on the street with many other orphaned children, Annabel’s older sister was able to find work in a Belfast pub, ran by a kind, elderly couple. They allowed Annabel and her sister room and board in exchange for work, and this is where the girls stayed for most of their lives. As she grew up, Annabel took on more and more responsibility in the pub, eventually becoming one of their more favored servers. She was beautiful, with golden blonde hair and shining green eyes. Her cheeks always had a rosy sort of glow to them, and she was wonderfully charismatic to boot. It was no wonder that Hernando couldn’t tear his eyes away from her. And, to remind you, her name did mean ‘delight to be around.’

Annabel was sixteen when the devilishly handsome, and worldly travelled Mexican man came into the small village pub in which she resided. She sat him at his table, and immediately, the two couldn’t keep their eyes off of one another. The chemistry was almost touchable in the air between them, and it didn’t take long for the two to come together in an incredibly passionate, heavily romantic relationship. Annabel often remarked that Hernando made her feel like the woman in the romantic moving pictures at the theater, and Hernando often claimed that she was the first thing that truly made him feel alive. They were awfully in love with one another, and that love culminated in a pregnancy, two months from the day that they met. Hernando, who truly did love Annabel, wanted to do right by his amor, thus, the pair was married just a month after they discovered the pregnancy. And, for a bit, they seemed every bit the picture perfect family. Eight months after their marriage, in the (again) winter of the year 1955, Elena Ortiz was born. Hernando chose her name, which meant Light, for he considered his darling daughter to be the true light of his life. He fell into fatherhood with a delightful ease, and found that he could spend hours cooing and smiling at his hija pequeña. The small little family did not have much money, but they had more than enough love to fill their one bedroom house. For the first time in his life, Hernando Ortiz felt grounded and settled. For the first time in her life, Annabel Ortiz felt like she had a full and complete family again.

A year and a half later, when Elena was in that adorable early-toddler stage, Annabel fell pregnant again. Like with Elena, this had been an accident, but Hernando and Annabel were decidedly less excited about it, this time around. Another child would cost a lot of money, and they were only barely making ends meet at the current moment. Not to mention, they lived in a house with only a single bedroom. This brought Hernando back to his childhood, reminding him of the one bedroom shack he’d shared with his large family. He wanted to do better by his own children, so he relocated them to a different house, one with two bedrooms. However, it was a bit more expensive, and when their son was born, both Hernando and Annabel felt that they were at their wits end. Like he had with Elena, Hernando chose the name for his eldest son as well. Leonardo Ortiz, whose name meant Brave As A Lion, was born in the early summer, June of 1957. The family began to struggle in a way they never had before, just to put bread and cheese on the table. Hernando started working a lot of doubles, and began drinking a lot to cope with it. Annabel, who had always been a bit of a drinker, did the same. The resulting stress, drunkenness, and anger that came from this began to sour the previously loving and devoted relationship that Hernando and Annabel shared. They grew violent, the both of them, and it was began to be commonplace for the neighbors to hear loud screams and breaking glass over the sound of small children crying.

Still, Hernando and Annabel had made vows to one another, vows that they refused to break. They hoped that one day, things would be easier. They kept faith that one day they would find a way to love each other like they used to. Unfortunately, those days never came. The months continued to tick by for the Ortiz family, and they lived in a sort of limbo for many years, flipping rapidly between awful fights and wonderful family bonding. Around the time that Leonardo was two years old, Hernando fell back into contact with the family he had left behind in Mexico so many years ago. He began speaking to his mother again, and his brothers and sisters and uncles and aunts, and even his abuela, who was somehow still alive. He began to make annual visits to them, though he could never afford to bring his wife and children along with him.

Years later, in the early spring of 1961, Annabel fell pregnant once more. The family, at this point, had gotten used to their low income and had found means to survive around it. They weren’t happy, but they weren’t necessarily unhappy either. It was in this strange middle ground that Annabel and Hernando’s third child, and second son, was born. Like his father, mother, and sister, the child was born in the month of December. Hernando, as was tradition by now, chose the name. He gave the boy the first name of Benito, which meant Blessed. He hoped that the name would rain down good fortune on his son one day, and that the good fortune might trickle down to the rest of the family. Benito Carlos Ortiz always kept this in mind, believing it to be his duty to gift blessings to his family one day.

With Benito’s arrival, the Ortiz was complete, and the real story can now begin.

Benito was a happy baby, and an even happier toddler. He shared a room, as well as a bed, with his big sister and brother. During these young years of his, he was quite close with Leonardo, who was only four years older than him. From the moment that Benito was walking, the two brothers ran all around the house, causing mischief for their mother, father, and sister. Leonardo was Benito’s first role model. However, that’s not to discredit Elena. Elena, his bright and smart big sister, was the one who taught him how to survive in a world as poor as theirs. Not to mention that she also sacrificed a lot of her own toys and happiness so that her brothers might enjoy a happier childhood than she had. The family was close, despite the rather wild fights they often got into, and Benito has always looked back on this as his happiest time, the only time he could remember his family truly being a unit, albeit a dysfunctional one. Sure, their family could fight. In fact, they knew how to do this very well. Benito’s spent his childhood watching his mother throw a fist in his father’s face, and then watching as his father threw her to the ground in retaliation. He had never really been too bothered by such things, figuring that this was just the way life was. Besides, as much as they knew how to fight, they also knew how to have a good time. Alcohol permeated their family, and the community around them, and Benito honestly couldn’t remember one of their good times that wasn’t helped by the influence of alcohol. Some of his fondest memories were watching as his father and brother tapped their glasses of tequila together in a companionable gesture before tossing the liquid down their throats. He looks back fondly on their nights seated around the kitchen table, playing cards and singing old traditional family songs together: Irish and Mexican alike. Benito and Leonardo often wrestled, and while Benito never won, he always had fun. His sister loved to dance, and even more than that, she loved to wrangle her reluctant brothers into dancing with her. His childhood, while not perfect, was not entirely awful either. Sure, it was hard, and there were nights that he went without food. But there was love in his heart, and in his household, so he knew that he would be alright.

However, all of that changed when he was just seven years old.

For all of his life, Benito knew that his father had family back in his home country of Mexico. After all, he left home for a two weeks once a year to go and visit them. However, one day, just after Hernando had returned from his weekly visit to Mexico, Annabel found something while looking through his suitcases. There was a small envelope, hidden beneath a secret little flap, that was filled with pictures. Pictures of Hernando with some woman, a woman who was not Annabel. And, if that weren’t bad enough, there pictures of children. Two, to be specific. They were both girls, and they both looked to be similar to Benito’s age. There with pictures of the girls, of the woman, and of Hernando with all of them together. Annabel dug a little further, and dug up some love letters, written to Hernando by a woman named Amanda, who she presumed to be the woman in the pictures. She couldn’t understand them, for they were written in Spanish, so she brought them to Elena to translate. Elena read them, growing angrier and angrier with every word her eyes ran over, and when she finished, she looked up to face her mother with furious tears in her eyes. It seemed that Hernando had started another family, all the way across the world, and he’d kept it hidden from them for years. Now, it made complete sense why he had never brought his wife or children to meet his mother, or grandmother, or brothers and sister. Annabel wondered if he had brought this Amanda to visit them, or the two little girls. She wondered if his mother even knew about Elena, or Leonardo, or Benito? For the first time in her life, Annabel wanted to be rid of Hernando.

And so, she confronted her husband one day, after he had finished a fifteen hour shift. He stepped through the door, looking weary and tired and in dire need of a shower. Annabel didn’t care, and she flung the photos and the letters right into his face. The resulting fight was spectacular, the worst one that Benito had ever seen in his seven years of life. Leonardo jumped in at one point, trying to use his lanky eleven year old body to protect his mother. Hernando was enraged at the disrespect shown to him by his son, and things looked as if they would continue to get worse. But, then Elena stepped in. Faced with his beloved daughter’s disappointment, rage, and hurt, Hernando couldn’t face it. He fled up to his room, packed a bag, and walked right out the front door, never to be seen again by the four remaining Ortiz’s.

The absence of their father shattered the family, and from then on, they began to splinter off into different directions. Annabel turned even more so to drink, especially now that she had to work to support the children alone. She grew angry, and bitter. Benito didn’t think her name was true anymore, for she was most definitely not a delight to be around. She was mean, and she was always drunk. It became commonplace for her to pass out on their couch, surrounded in a pool of her own alcohol, or, if she was really drunk, a pool of her own vomit, or urine.

Elena grew angry too, and stopped looking out for her little brothers quite so much. The three children had to contribute to the household now, and since they were eleven and seven, Elena considered them old enough to do so. After all, she was thirteen. It was high time she started looking out for herself after spending so many years helping those around her. She grew closer with Annabel, however, and never blamed her for her drunken depression. She placed the blame firmly on the shoulders of her padre, who she know hated with a fiery passion.

Leonardo felt the same way, for he had never gotten along with father. To Hernando, Leonardo’s arrival had signalled the beginning of the bad times. To Leonardo, Hernando was angry, drunken man who couldn’t appreciate the loving family that he had around him. Leonardo was only eleven when his father left, but he was now the man of the house, and he took it upon himself to start bringing in money. For the past year, he had begun to spend more time with the other boys in the neighborhood, since the age and maturity gap between him and Benito had become a little much. The boys that Leonardo was spending his time with were other poor street kids like himself, and they’d developed a reputation for being a band of troublemakers. It wasn’t that hard for them to turn towards things a little more illegal, especially to make some money, so by the age of twelve, Leonardo had made a small name for himself by selling marijuana. The work wasn’t always safe, especially where they lived, but it brought in money.

Benito, only seven when his father left, wasn’t quite sure what to do, but he very quickly found his calling. It wasn’t all that hard, really. He discovered that if he went to the more wealthy side of town, many people didn’t lock their cars or back doors. It was all too easy for him to slip inside and fill his pockets with their expensive watches and jewelry. He was quite good at it, too, what with his small size. He could hide in spots that adult burglars could never, and he made a heavy profit from it. Soon enough, he grew more and more bold. He taught himself how to unlock a locked vehicle, using his neighbors beat-up lemon of a car for practice. From there, came stealing from stores. First, petty shoplifting. But, soon enough, Benito could walk out of a store with a bag filled and not a single employee wise to his crimes. Sure, every now and then he had close calls. He was eight years old the first time that someone caught him, but he was fast, and he easily made an escape by sliding down the flagpole next to the apartment building.

He was nine years old the first time that it wasn’t so easy to get away, but he’d surprised the man by giving him a swift kick to the bollocks. Grown adults were always surprised when children fought back. It was almost nothing for Benito to dash through the front door to escape from the foliage. There was a thrill in stealing, and a pride that Benito did not get from anything else. He often laid in bed at night, turning his wrist over so that he could examine whatever flashy and new watch he had stolen that day. It made him feel rich, which was ever so relieving since he was ever so poor.

It was actually during one of his little escapades when he noticed something very strange about himself. He was ten years old now, and he was in someone’s house. He had no shoes on, only his socks, because it made it easier for him to slip around unheard. He was being risky today, sneaking into a house while the owners were home, but he was confident that he could do it. He had just scampered onto their dining table, hands extending for the diamond coverings on their chandelier, when he accidentally knocked the vase on their table over with his foot. He swiveled around in alarm, lunging for it so that he could stop it from rolling off the edge, but he was too far. It rolled, rolled, and then began to tip over, and despite knowing he couldn’t stop it, he reached for it anyways. But then the most peculiar thing happened. Rather than falling off the table and loudly shattering all over the ground, it simply returned to its original, upright position. Benito thought he had imagined the whole thing, for he just couldn’t explain it. Not then, anyways.

He was eleven years old when a very strange man came to his house. He was tall, and he had a beard that seemed to go down forever. Not to mention, he looked very, very old. Perhaps the oldest man that Benito had ever seen. He would never forget the day when the man came to visit. He knocked on the door mid-morning. Benito was on the couch, in only his underwear and socks. He had a bowl of cereal in his lap and was trying to make out what was happening on their television, which was very cheap and only in black and white. Elena had answered the door, and when she came in with a strange expression on her face and told Benito that someone was at the door for him, his life changed forever.

It hadn’t been too hard for Benito to believe, not after the man demonstrated his strange powers. Turns out, the man had a strange name too. Albus Dumbledore. The surname sounded foreign and blocky on Benito’s lips. Albus Dumbledore, apparently, was the headmaster of a wizarding school. A wizarding school that they wanted him, Benito, to go to. He was shocked, and so was his family. After they got over their initial disbelief, they had a million questions to ask. Professor Dumbledore was patient, and he answered everything they had to ask. Benito felt embarrassed when his mother asked if the school cost any money, and then scared a second later. Would he be denied entry to this school simply because he was poor? Thankfully, Professor Dumbledore said they had a fund for helping underprivileged students. He said that Benito would have to get most of his things secondhand, but that was fine. Everything else he owned was, anyways.

And so, when summer rolled around, Benito and his family followed the directions left by Professor Dumbledore to travel to the wizarding village of Diagon Alley. It was hard to get there, since London was no easy drive from Belfast. Benito was half scared that the Professor Dumbledore wizard-man had been lying, and this was all just a scam! A clever, genius, well thought out scam, but a scam nonetheless. But, as it turns out, it was no scam. Diagon Alley was a real, live place and Benito and his family stared in awe at the sight of it. Annabel hurriedly made her way to the Leaky Cauldron to see if wizarding alcohol worked the same as muggle alcohol. (It worked better). Benito, however, set off on his own, wandering through each and every shop in search of his supplies.

Benito had just stepped into Ollivander’s Wand shop, when he saw her. She was about his size, though she looked a lot less out of place than he did. What on earth was everyone wearing? It was strange. Some people looked as wild as some of the strange figures that wandered the area of that one weird alleyway by his house! She got his wand first, and when he saw the sparks shoot from the end of it in a wonderful display of color, he couldn’t help but to exclaim in surprise. That had drawn her attention, and the two fell into conversation. He found out that her name was Imogen, and that she was also starting at Hogwarts in the fall. They didn’t talk long, but he felt good when he left the store, hardly taking the time to be surprised that he had warmed up so quickly. Once he had his wand, he was finished, and he headed to the bar to collect his extremely inebriated mother.

Now, all Benito had to do was wait.

September the First came quickly, and before he knew it, Benito found himself seated alone in a compartment on a train called The Hogwarts Express. He’d hoped to sit alone for the ride, but that seemed impossible. However, to his happy surprise, the face that popped into the compartment was one he recognized. It was the Imogen girl he’d met at Ollivanders! The two ended up sitting together, and when they arrived at Hogwarts, they were sorted into Hufflepuff as well.

Five years later, Benito is in the peak of his sixth year. His grades are alright, but he doesn’t really care about that. He had no intention of going into the Ministry of Magic, or really working at all in the Wizarding World. No, no, Benito Carlos Ortiz had bigger plans than that. After all, he was born to be blessed. No, Benito planned to use his magical powers and natural aptitude for sneaky things to live nice and breezy in the muggle world. And in the meantime, he would steal from his fellow wizards. After all, many of them didn’t respect him for who his parents were, so why should he show them the respect of allowing them to keep their belongings? The war is heating up around him, and Benito is more than ready to defend himself. But, he means to only defend himself. He had learned a long time ago that it was a dog-eat-dog world, and he knew better than to think the wizarding world was any different.

Benito Ortiz decided to not concern himself with the opinion of people that didn’t matter. He had Imogen, he had the Hufflepuffs, and he had his family. Nobody else mattered, and he wouldn’t lie and pretend that he thought they did. What he planned on doing was making as much money as he possibly could, in any means that he possibly could, and if he could, he’d try to find his dad along the way.

CONNECTIONS:

Imogen Connolly: His first friend and current girlfriend. Benito and Imogen have been together for what feels like forever, and there isn’t a single person on the planet that he feels more love for. He feels like they’re soulmates, and can’t imagine his life without her.

Katherine Bradbury: She’s new to the school, and she looks rich, so he’s got his eye on her. He doesn’t take her seriously, not really, and he finds it rather funny that she’s an American. But, he did hear a rumor about her ruining a debutante ball, so perhaps there is more to her than meets the eye.

Lucius Malfoy: Malfoy stands for everything that Benito detests, so he often tries to get on his nerves. But, more so than that, Benito has been stealing from him here and there for six years now. He has so much money that its almost easy.

ADDITIONAL INFO:

He’s a Sagittarius Sun, and an Aries Moon. Some quotes from this website that apply to Benito are, (1) “Even though you are smart and perceptive, your emotional growth lags behind your understanding.” (2) “A Sagittarius-Aries is fearless about speaking their mind and has been so since a young age. No other mixture personifies such blunt outspokenness. You have no inhibitions but have the courage to say precisely what you feel. You are active, capricious, and very independent. Everything is as you see it. It does not matter what others think, you are forthright and fearless.” (3) “You need be careful of that rather big ego of yours.”

Benito really likes the movie, “The Godfather”

Benito speaks Spanish, though not as well as he used to

Benito is really into sculpting, and astrology.

His class schedule is: Charms, Arithmancy, Divination, Potions, Transfiguration, and Defense Against the Dark Arts

[techcrunchappcom]

New Post has been published on https://techcrunchapp.com/glee-actress-naya-rivera-presumed-drowned-as-search-resumes-los-angeles-times/

'Glee' actress Naya Rivera presumed drowned as search resumes - Los Angeles Times

“Glee” actress Naya Rivera is believed to have drowned in Lake Piru after her 4-year-old son was found alone on a boat she rented Wednesday afternoon.

Rivera’s disappearance stunned fans, and Hollywood offered an outpouring of grief.

Officials were out in force scouring the lake Thursday morning but did not find her body. The search effort includes two helicopters, roughly six pontoon boats and 25 divers, said Ventura County Sheriff’s Depatment Deputy Chris Dyer.

Shortly before noon, Dyer said authorities think “a tragic accident happened in the water. Nothing has changed, we’re still searching.”

As waves lapped the marina’s cement shores, Dyer said the lake’s conditions typically get worse as the wind picks up during the day. The gusts don’t affect divers underwater, he said, but they could make recovery operations more difficult for dive team boats.

“You can tell the water’s getting choppier,” Dyer said, describing the lake as unpredictable. “She could be anywhere.”

The search resumed Thursday morning for “Glee” actress Naya Rivera, who is believed to have drowned in Lake Piru.

(KTLA-TV Channel 5)

Rivera rented a boat about 1 p.m. Wednesday and had an afternoon of swimming with her son, who was the last to see her before she went missing, Ventura County sheriff’s Capt. Eric Buschow said.

Buschow said the boy got back onto the boat after a swim, but his mother did not follow.

“We’re going on the belief that she did go in the water, and we have not been able to locate her. So this may well be a case of drowning,” Buschow told reporters.

The 4-year-old was found sleeping on the boat by himself by other boaters in the lake.

“He’s in good health,” Bushow said of Rivera’s son. The boy was initially reported by authorities to be a 3-year-old girl. “The family is going through a very traumatic time right now.”

Authorities have so far focused their search on the north side of the lake, where the boy was found, Dyer said.

The lake is 40 to 50 feet deep in some places, with lots of debris and poor visibility, he added.

The parking lot of the Juan Fernandez boat ramp, close to Lake Piru’s north end, sat empty at 12:45 p.m. Half a dozen boats and Jet Skis could be seen from the spot hours earlier, but only one remained visible. The facility’s dock stretched into murky, dark green water.

A dive team from San Luis Obispo County prepared to head out midday, and another from Tulare County was on the way, Dyer said. Until Rivera’s body is recovered, search efforts are scheduled until sunset, authorities said.

“When the sun goes down, there’s zero visibility in the water, and it’s extremely dangerous for our searchers to be in the area,” Dyer said. “We’re tentatively scheduled to be here for several days.”

Earlier in the week, Rivera had posted a photo with her son with the caption: “Just the two of us.”

In the musical comedy “Glee,” which aired on Fox from 2009 until 2015, Rivera played Santana, a cheerleader. Rivera appeared in 113 episodes of the series and dated costar Mark Salling, who killed himself in 2018 after pleading guilty to child pornography charges.

Lake Piru is a popular recreation area in the Los Padres National Forest near Fillmore. There have been drownings at the lake in the past.

A Times article in 2000 chronicled a string of drownings at the reservoir, saying most victims were inexperienced swimmers who were not wearing life jackets and overestimated their own abilities or swam in prohibited areas. At the time, officials said the drowning numbers were no higher than at other lakes in the region. They also said those boating on the lake should wear life jackets or other flotation devices.

The Associated Press contributed to this report.

[jbinbcn]

North Trip

06-09.12.2018

Pamplona - San Sebastian - Zumaya - Bilbao - Vitoria

Long weekend trip with ESN! I had never visited the North of Spain so when I saw the opportunity to go there with ESN, I bought the ticket :D And I needed to take a day off on Friday (6.12 is a holiday in Spain). SO GOOD SO GOOD!

4 days, 5 cities, more than 1300 km !

And I could see my lovely ocean after 2 years! <3 But for sure I’ll come back there! Still so many places to visit! Asturiuuunuuus are waiting XD So let’s start from the beginning.

06.12.2018 Valencia -> Pamplona

The meeting point was at 5 ! I slept 3h... and when I was walking to the bus I passed so many drunk people enjoying the night xD Why so early? Because it’s around 6h in the bus, we could leave Valencia even earlier to have more time for visiting. I slept like dead.. I got used to it, I just sit in the bus/train/car and I sleep. The bus stopped in the middle of nowhere for a break. There was a huge restaurant-shop to enjoy breakfast. I liked that place. Nice to have something like that, not only McDonalds and Orlen hot dogs.

At 8 I enjoyed from the bus the sunrise. It was really cool one, but yeah, photos through the window...

A few words about spanish landscapes. What I noticed, Spain is sooo empty. I mean, when you drive a car on the highway, there is nothing, no buildings, no forests, nothing. Just mountains in many parts, and windmills. I mean, for me is totally different from this what I see in Poland ;) Especially those mountains, but this in -> Chulilla.

We arrived around 12:00 to Pamplona. Our first city. ESN guys took us around the center doing their best city tour. 

---In the brackets I’ll write the name in BASQUE language!--- Probably you know about Cataluña, independence and catalán language. Spain is even more crazy. In the North of Spain there is a Basque Country (es: Pais Vasco, Euskadi) - yes, we are still in Spain. It’s an Autonomous Community (one of 17). But they have own language, spanish and basque are co-official languages there. You think, yeah sure language, probably it’s just dialect, he he, no xD Euskara It’s one of the languages which the etymologists can not find origins. For sure none of the European and is a language isolate to any other know ones. It’s like magic. My personal feelings (don’t take it serious): for me it’s a language of wildness, of woodsmen, of Vikings! Like big bearded guys xD sorry 🙈

Still don’t believe me?  So let’s have a look at the examples of the words, english - spanish - euskara

my favorite one: butterfly - mariposa - tximeleta  others: hello - hola - aupa  yes - si - bai no - no - ez kiss - beso - musua beach - playa - hondartza xDDD restaurant - restaurante - jatetxea father - padre - aita  I love you - te quiero - maite zaitut ❤

Sooo? Do you agree with me that is like viking? XD BASQUE MAN TRUE MAN!

If you still think that I chose only really different words, go to wikipedia, find some article (like famous one) and change the language to Euskara and enjoy ;)  BTW, The girl from Bilbao said that Eusakara is a difficult language to learn. There are 12 gramatical cases !!!! Ok hungarian still wins - 29...  For spanish speakers:

 For others, from 1:30:

----------

But let’s back to the trip. 

Pamplona (Iruña) 06.12.2018 In polish - Irunia - is a cute version of a name Irena ;)

It’s a capital city of Comunidad Foral de Navarra (Nafarroako Foru Komunitatea). So it’s not a “basque” city - I mean, autonomous community, but it’s in Basque Country as a region (Euskal Herria).

It’s really easy to notice when you passed the border of Spain and Basque region. Unfortunately we didn't stop to take some breathtaking photos, and from the window.. you know..

Mountains appearing in the fog...

For me it was amazing! But not on the photos. Sorry not sorry.

Do you know what Pamplona is famous for? ---Running of the bulls (encierro)--- During 9-day festival of Sanfermines (6-7 of July)  First run is on 7th, at 8 am. And then day by day till the end. It’s a good time to visit Pamplona second time ;) Then I can describe the whooooole tradition. Right now just some words. Origins: 14th century, men wanted to be faster and faster with transporting their bulls to the market square. They noticed that the best way is to make the bulls excited and frightened. After a while young boys and others started to making a competition between each other - who will be the fastest in the pens without being injured and overtaken. Because spanish people are crazy, the tradition expanded popularity and nowadays it’s preserved in many spanish cities. In Pamplona tradition is more touristic now, so maybe is better to go to another city to enjoy the old tradition. Enjoy - maybe it’s a wrong word, I don’t know if I would be strong enough to watch people running and getting injured and those poor bulls which will finish at the arena for a fight and dead at the end with a long way. In 1910 they began record-keeping and since then 15 people died. Last one in 2009. On wikipedia you can check exact data if you are interested. ----------

Step by step how we visited in few hours Pamplona (with many photos).

We started at the Plaza del Castillo, center of the city, social life, concerts, markets, events. The buildings around are really beautiful and reminded me Krakow ;)

The weather was like warm autumn.. ahh <3

El kiosko is a heart of the square.

Then we just followed ESN and enjoying the city. Of course we chose city tour in spanish, si si!

Around the cathedral there was a nice terrace to have a view of Pamplona from one side.

ESN guide tour we finished at Ayuntamiento. Baroque style, lions bearing coats of arms and a trumpet-blowing angel.

FREEEE TIME, means exactly food time.

---And now food story--- Vasco Pais is known as a land of pintxos. What’s that? Do you know tapas? Yes, the same “style”, just smaller. Pintxos - small “finger” foods. Like small sandwiches (takie kanapeczki koreczki). Slice of bread with a toothpick in the middle holding the rest together. They can be warm or cold. You enter the bar and in front of you there are all available pintxos, sometimes in the menu you can find more, which have to served warm. How to order? Depends, there are 2 ways. If the plate is on the counter and pintxos are easy to take, take the plate and put there whatever you want. If there are no plates or pintxos are behind the glass, just walk around, choose what you like and then ask a waiter to serve you them. In some bars they are all in the same price so you pay for how many toothpicks you have on the plate after all, or just you pay at the beginning when they are served. Funny fact: you enter the bar and you see it a little bit (or veeeery) dirty, like the floor is full of napkins. It means that the bar is good one, visited by many locals. Wtf?! It’s more hygienic to throw it than to keep it next to your food. In pintxos bars there are not places to sit. Pintxos are for standing socializing. You have a pintxo, you talk, you enjoy, you drink txacoli (sparkling, very dry white wine). You change the bar. It’s like pintxos crawling. Of course there are competitions which bars serve the best ones. ----------

So we knew what we want to eat - pintxos - claro que si. And the best for that is street called: Estafeta (on this street bulls run during the festival). But we found “the best ones” which won some prizes last year: Restaurante Baserriberri.

When we saw the prices there… 3e for a small pintxo xDDD

But then we saw that the waiters are serving something really interesting. In the menu we checked that this pintxo - bOOmveja -  won last year some prize. Look:

The form is not eatable. It’s printed in 3d printer. Inside I tasted some parkerhouse rolls (???? butter bread?) with (as we said) sheep cheese. It was amazing, so delicious, mmmm <3 

What I found about the ingredients? Read that xDDD But I can recommend. 3,5e, smaller than appetizer but was good XD

Then we went to the plaza de castillo to eat what we still had in our backpacks :D

Uncle Google recommended us to visit Ciudadela - 16-century fortress which from the top looks like an extraterrestrial star. In 18th century it was a prison, now it’s a park to chill. We took some stupid photos and it was time to come back to the bus. 

On our way we passed Baluarte Palacio de Congresos y Auditorio de Navarra - cultural center, modern art, art art art. And we stopped on Plaza de Toros next to Bullfighting Monument to take such an awesome video (I’m wondering how many people had the same idea).

So there was nobody! Finally some old people appeared so I asked them (I knew that it’s stupid idea) if some of them can take a short video of us (because I wanted to be in the video as well…). I prepared my phone, the old man, how to stand, what to click, we did our performance.

I checked what he had recorder... eh yes.. one more time please, again, preparing everything I even clicked the start… but he clicked the stop to early xD 

Well… at least he helped!

So bus time again. Pamplona - thank you and maybe see you in July. All day should be enough if you (like me) don’t visit all museums from inside. Next city!

San Sebastian (Donostia)

My favorite city in the northern Spain !! I’d live there just because of the view and location. The other aspects I don’t know ;)

We arrived to the “hostel”. Exactly we arrived to some place in the middle of something. And behind the hill we found our hostel. If you have a car or money for the taxi - is ok, they are able to reach the place. If not, like we, only big bus, we had to climb and then go down to find the hostel. It was already dark so even we didn’t know what we are doing, darkness. Of course, mess at the beginning who is with who in the room (sorryyyy Carlyne!). But finally we managed it to be together (5!) and 6th one scotch-italiano new friend ;)

Some free time and then all the group took a public bus to go to the center for a dinner, before party, party and after party depends on your strength.

So it was night sightseeing in San Sebastian.

Of course we went to eat pintxos. So much tourists. We entered to Senra Zaharrean.

Pintxos calientes ;)

It was a little bit crowded, but we waited like 5min to get a table. In this restaurant you take a plate, put what you want, pay. If you wanna beer, the waiter will bring you. Or if you’re going to the table you can pay later.

Next step we decided to buy some % and enjoy on the beach side. Of course hiding, drinking from the plastic bag.. 🙈

And then ESN and others came and we went to do BOTELLON ---------- I think I’ve never explained what is botellon. So it’s before party. Like we meet somewhere outside with a lot of alco etc, we enjoy, drink, have some social life before going to the clubs. Clubs in Spain are open mostly after midnight, people appear there more around 1-2 because during that time you don’t pay for the entrance, or you pay less. ----------

So our botellon was on the beach, under promenade. Good place, I recommend you to visit it during your stay in San Sebastian xD

And because I love the ocean so much I was in heaven. I haven’t seen it for 2,5 years! Ocean is the power, strength. It keeps me calm but gives me the energy at the same time. I’m in trance like I wrote once on fb ;)

I spend I think 1h looking at waves, were good/big enough. Satisfying ;) But because in Dec I didn’t have any winter clothes with me and north is quite cold during “winter” I started freezing so I came back to the Botellon. It was first and last time when I could see the ocean during the night. Hope to come back soon :D

To be honest I was so tired after this first day and night in the bus. Or I’m getting old too fast. :( But when ESN said that we have a free beer in the bar Bataplan, I went there to enjoy it xD #cebula

But it was one of the worst beers ever. Ble.. Carlyne took wine and it was even worse xD So it wasn’t worth but at least was warm. Erasmus had a karaoke party there and later they were supposed to go to the club to dance but no idea.

We decided to come back to the hostel. But because it was sooo f. away we had 2 options. Walk 3,5km oooor take a taxi. The problem was that we were 5 and nobody wanted to take us, and 2 taxis - too expensive come on xD So we walked xD 40min, up and down. I felt like in Porto od Gdynia, we go up, we go down, do it again again again, do it again again again. But it was ok, I did my steps. 

The hostel was ok, just the shower “perfect size”, like you enter and don’t move. And localization - terrible. For sure not for me, but for the big group works well.

Morning we started with of course breakfast but then city tour in San Sebastian. We had to move out, take our things to the bus, leave them there and enjoy San Sebastian during the day - the weather was perfect <3

So now it’s time for photos ;)

At the beginning we had a city tour with ESN. We started next to the beach to go up for the view.

Parte Vieja - old town, just walking and enjoying. 

Rumbo! XD Better version of it. (Rumbo is a club in Valencia which I don’t like and I don’t recommend). Una mierda.

Can you see a heart?

I read on the internet about this basque dessert so we tried. Like sweet rice pudding - good one!

Ayuntamiento - It’s kind of masterpiece, no? Before it was casino, you know, politicians, businessmen, etc. 

And around:

Urgull Mendia is a hill by the ocean. It’s a perfect chilling spot for enoying the view. AMAZING!

The flag of Basque Country.

Mamma mia !

ahhh my stupid pink-eye-make-up... Sad story behind :(

Heheszki

Yes, I’m happy :))

Museo de San Telmo - the oldest and the biggest in Basque Country. From prehistory to modernity. The original part of the museum it was a Dominican convent (XVI) so it’s like mix of the styles. Yes, I haven’t visited it inside.

Unfortunately we didn’t have time for many things!!! But I’m pretty sure they are worth a visit. :(

Monte Igueldo - The view has to be amazing. You can reach it by the antique funicular railway. On the top there is amusement park and tower - El Torreón.

La Catedral del Buen Pastor - 10 000 whistles in the organ - one of the biggest in Europe.

Isla de Santa Clara - to be honest - I’ve NOT seen it !!! Writing this I’m reading some stuffs and then I see on the photos the island, I’m like wtf, there was not any island! I checked my photos, yes, on mines the island “doesn’t exist”, because I was on the other side and for me it was just one land, one coast. Eh :(  Another reason to come back! 

There is a small cafe and a lighthouse. But you can access it only between 1th June and 30th September via ferry.

Paseo Nuevo - fuck my life. Another thing which I haven’t seen! It’s a new promenade around the Urgull hill, starts in Kursaal, and finishes in the port. It’s famous for the photos with huge waves. Come on, it’s my element (no byłabym w swoim żywiole!). Who wants to join me?

Peine del Viento - one of the best-known works by sculptor Eduardo Chillida. If you wanna a postcard from Donostia, probably it will be with those sculptures. We were supposed to go there, it’s on the opposite side of the beach (Playa de Ondarreta) but we didn’t have enough time so we came back to the old town. AND if we had gone there, we would have seen also the island… so bad so bad JB. Those sculptures are so heavy and there is story behind them, but I’m not gonna write about it, not yet! I’ll go, I’ll explore, I’ll learn, I’ll take pictures, then I can tell you more - my version :D

So when we noticed that there is no time for the sculptures,  we went to eat pintxos, how it could be different. And to be honest we found finally cheap <more or less> and good ones! Oh yeah! So I recommend this place in San Sebastian - Bar Gorriti.

On the floor there were a lot of napkins so it had to be good! In this one you say what you want and the waiter will put it on the plate, what has to be served warm, he will give you in 2-3min. Here I tried txicoli, yeah, sparkling and sour. But the way how they serve it, look!

I took some bowl, it was warm pintxo and really good one! It was my favorite one I think. Inside there was kind of mixed meat, maybe some smashed potatoes and it was fried - recommend!

Next step was - to chill xD I could see so many things but what I did? I went to sleep on the beach xD It was really good siesta, I just lied down on the wall and I was enjoying my dreams. And from there we had a view on the surfers - this is surfing, not like in Valencia, minimal waves, no adrenaline, etc (but they do it in Valencia! lol).

When I wake up (15-20min, true afternoon siesta), I went to say goodbye to the ocean. Calm me baby.

Then the bus and let’s go to another city!

Zumaya

We went there only for like 45min. Why? There is an amazing view spot. Some scenes of Game of Thrones were recorded there (I don’t know which ones, I don’t watch it, sorry not sorry). But maybe you can guess from photos:

But it was the only place where was raining and was soooo f*ck… windy! Omg xD 

But it was worth it. You know, act like nothing is happening, just for photos, and then run away before you fall off. But amazing, amazing! Basque landscapes - wow!

zmokła kura.

Next city!

Bilbao 07.12.2018

We arrived when was dark already, so like always, just run away from the bus (because it stopped where it shouldn’t), take the luggage and enter the hostel. This time the hostel was more or less in the center so walking time (probably we would have walked even if it had been located somewhere outside xD). We had some time to prepare, do shopping, before leaving for botellon.

So we did. A good shopping. Just look xD We wanted to be prepared, not like in San Sebastian, just one beer. HE HE XDD

That night ESN prepared for us a dinner, like tortillas de patatas, chips chips chips, chorizos, jamones, etc.

After that we had some drinking games and then let’s go! Botellon spot was next to Guggenheim Museum - artistic botellon! And here will be the story of Bilbao xD

I left my phone in the hostel, because I’m with big group, we have a lot of vodka, just to be sure that I won’t lose it. The hostel had 3 doors to pass, entrance - code, room area - code, room - code. Better because we were 12 (!!!) in the room so impossible to share one key (like in San Sebastian). I hadn’t known that, and when receptionist saw me fighting with the “room area” door, he gave me a card with all codes and with the address of the hostel. I put it to the pocket with thinking - it will be useful. We (5 of us) started drinking during the way to botellon (you know, like there is no time). And yes, for 2 of us it was a little bit bad idea XD And when ESN said that we have to go to the club to enter before 2 (because for free), I decided to take a friend home, another 2 stayed, one left with ESN. So it was like 15min walking, more or less 2 big streets. To remind - I didn’t have my phone with me, and the other person phone didn’t work - wtf! Like just stopped, all apps from Google just stopped. We were left without a map… I just knew one street at the beginning and that’s all. So ok, we will ask on the streets. I even didn’t remember the hostel name xDDD Buuut yes, a had an address!!! <3 First person to ask - young dustman. When he showed me the map, I was like, fuck, we are lost already, after 10min we were somewhere else than we were supposed to be. Ok, he said, go straight and at the end ask someone else. But I really needed to use the toilet, like really. And then I saw some cafe in the middle of some park, it looked like private party, but the door was a little bit open, I entered like without touching, like I’m matching perfect to this open door hole. I said - HOLA, my instinct just knew were to go to find a bathroom, I used, I came back to that door, I said - ADIOS. Easy xD We asked again some people in this park about the way. Then we again asked some young guys, they look at the map and like - oooookeeeey, maybe we will take you there. They knew about crazy Erasmus life. They understood those feelings. We were walking walking walking, then they said that it’s at the end of the street. You even can’t imagine how happy we were. But then we were lost again xD My friend because of hiccup was hiding behind - glass lift xD when I was asking some group of old people (+60) about the hostel. They were like, it’s here… And then I look around, I noticed Carrefour (where we did our lovely shopping). I can not explain those positive emotions which I had that time… That happiness! When I entered the room, the rest of the group was sleeping already.. how?!?! We were walking for 1,5h hour… Love you Bilbao ;*

In the morning, breakfast, shower (we had 1 shower for 12 people, good luck), and let’s explore what we explored during the night. No idea how was our path. I tried my best, but yeah.. We went first to Guggenheim Museum. Ok, I was fascinated (I think first time) because I read a book of Dan Brown - Origin (Początek) last Christmas and there were some of the actions.

Solomon Guggenheim was crazy about abstract art, his flat started being to small for all his collection, so he set a foundation up and established museum - Museum of Non-Objective Painting. But the place was also too small. Frank Lloyd Wright designed a new building. When you think about museum, probably you think about old building, you know artistic, wow, photogenic, wow, art, wow, majestic! This one was different, was destroying all the well-known rules. The collection was growing and growing and in 80s the contemporary director Thomas Krens decided to set branches up. That time Bilbao was a dying city. There was an economic crisis, the big industrial companies crashed. The Basque government asked Krens to build of the branch in Bilbao, he asked Frank Gehr to construct it. It cost a lot of money, but was built on time and budget. Has it helped Bilbao? A lot! Maybe that’s why you know that city. ~9000 workplaces, during first 2 years more than 2 600 000 people visited the museum!

The building is made of titanium and glass. You can see there fish, flower or a sailing boat, depends from which side you are looking at (or how “creative” you are ;) ). Around the museum you can find:

Puppy - West Highland terrier, 13m, 16 tonnes, tens thousands of flowers.

Maman - “mummy”, spider, almost 10m, includes a sac with 32 eggs, meaning: mother’s protection - soft for children, dangerous for others - many interpretations.

Fire fountain - from time to time 5 fountains blast flames into the sky - I haven’t seen :/

Tulips - bunch of 7 large tulips (5m) like a baloons.

Tall Tree & The Eye - 73 reflective spheres, too deep to write.

Fog - it appears from time to time.

The entrance: 16e, 9e (students <26). Better to check the hours and if that day is open. 

We had a headphones with the guide (in english). You clicked the interesting number and you could hear the story. Take the map with you. 

It’s really big but accidentally I went first to the room with sculpture of THE MATTER OF TIME. For me it’s sooooo fascinating! It was in the book of Dan Brown and it’s not art which you should go deep in, like think why it looks like that, what the author thought, no! Richard Serra is known as an artist whose sculptures you can’t feel, you can’t get them with your eyes only, you can’t look at them and understand them. It’s all about physical feeling. When he started, people didn’t like his art, it was ugly for them. It’s impossible to show his sculptures on the photos, because they mean nothing then. You have to walk through them, they will work for you physically (no w sensie, że nie fizycznie odczujesz co ziomek chciał przedstawiać, zacznie Ci się kręcić, w głowie, albo jakieś inne takie efekty specjalne). Maybe you know those blocks in front of the Museum of Holocaust in Berlin? He designed them. On the photos - hmm you don’t know wtf, but when you walk through you should start feeling lonely, uneasy, lost. This art I appreciate :D So what about The matter of time? 8 sculptures, the lightest piece weights 44 tons and the heaviest 276 tons - wow - together - 1034 tons - wow! In the room next to it you can find everything explained and small version of it to have a better look at the construction.

After the previous night I was a little bit dizzy, but when I passed all those sculptures I wanted to die. It seriously works! It makes you dizzy, you feel like it’s closing you inside, you lose the orientation, you are lost in time. Maybe it’s better to visit this room at the end, to feel better during walking on the 2nd and 3rd floor.

One more room was quite interesting on the 1st floor. In the middle there were kind of bowels (flaki, wnętrzności, takie jelitka czy ciul wie co). In one corner just phone recording you and showing it on a big screen - lol. Kind of strange tent - no idea. Some flying big balloons, salt xD

And 3 figures of dogs. Here I listened to the record carefully but when the guide said that it’s Maria and Jesus.. well.. I changed the channel.

Next floors (2nd & 3rd) - omg so boring (sorry art lovers). Paintings, paintings… no sense, no feelings, no. Aaaaa and it was forbidden to take photos :/ I noticed it too late xD

But this painting... wtf ! Or there was one, totally black, with one white corner. No.

And then we went to eat! Pintxos, claro que si! We just were walking with ESN, but because the group was too big, we entered to the next bar. Also recommended! I liked it.

Plaza Albia

I saw that they also have those balls so I took one. Hmm it was different, not that delicious buuuuuut

The sauce was so so so f. spicy! But good at the same time, like you keep eating mmm it’s perfect, but when you stop... better to not stop XD

mniam mniam mniam!

Napkins on the floor!

Then we walked a little bit and decided to come back to the museum (there was our meeting point) and chill there.

Bilbao’s architecture:

Then we had a city tour with guys from ESN Bilbao so we learnt more about the city from true basque people :)

Beautiful sunset!

We decided to eat for a dinner CAROLINA! It’s like another basque dessert. But on our way we found bubble wafer which I always wanted to try in Krakow so... (szału nie ma dupy nie urywa).

And we found carolinas! In Poland we have something similar for winters and we call it - warm ice creams - ciepłe lody. Mniam :D

On our way to the hostel... we passed the street to the right and we noticed 10min later when we were on the top of the hill... Bilbao <3

So this night was our! Like finally we wanted to end up in the basque club! Por favor xD But this time we needed to take metro and walk a little bit (~40min in total) and we had botellon just in front of the club. But what it was a club! xDDD When we were walking from the metro we were like in the worst part of the city, between some industrial buildings, garages etc. Like wtf. And then we stopped on the parking, and we were playing games and drinking (more careful than the day before). When I asked ESN where is the club they showed closed door to one of the garages XD And yes, it was this, around midnight the door opened and you could see that this can be a club. How it was? Typical spanish club, maybe not enough of reggaeton and music to dance, like to many songs of electro something, but at all - not bad. I was thinking to walk to the hostel but when I saw the area and everything, nope, metro. Even taxi doesn’t go there xD And when we were waiting for the club, spanish people started arriving and it was like “village need for speed shows” XDD You know chicos in the cars showing their best screech of tyres (no powiedziałabym sądeckie dresy popisujące się paleniem opon, no poczułam się jak w Nowym Sączu przez chwilę).

So party in the North - checked. At least once xD

In the morning, zombie packing and let’s go to the next city!

Vitoria (Gasteiz) 09.12.2018

It’s a capital city of Basque Country (nope, not Bilbao). It’s not big one but it’s cute. We started next to the new cathedral, again we had a city tour with a girl from ESN Vitoria. It was a good tour!

This place is like social life center. During the summer old people (like +60) meet here to dance. It has to be so cute :D When I pass my 60 I’ll go to Vitoria to dance the whole night :D

This is the new cathedral. Why? Where is the old one? The old one was damaging and the city needed a cathedral so they build new one. But as I heard they are not proud of it - it’s ugly.

We started a sightseeing from a new part. Look at the architecture.

Iglesia de San Miguel

Plaza Nueva It’s like Sunday spot for locals. In the past it was a market place and bull arena. Now it’s a place to meet, grab a drink, etc. Every Sunday children come here to exchange with some posters, stamps, coins etc (pamiętacie wymianę karteczkami? XD).  

Plaza de los fueros Before it was Plaza de Abastos - for selling fresh products. New one exist for >30 years. Fuero - forum, open spacec used as market.

In basque cities they have a cool way to put the names of the streets. I like it.

In the wall on the right (second photo on the left) there is a girl. She was walled up and people say that you can hear her sometimes, well.

El Portalon c. XV, traditional basque food, not cheap one.

In Vitoria you can find some nice graffiti.

We finished out tour. Free time for food and it’s time to go back to Valencia. This time I’ll surprise you, for the lunch we ate - kebab! XDDD Because it’s big enough for 6h in the bus and it costs like 2 pintxos so.. xD

Then we walked throught the city, enjoying it last time.

Locals call it - pussy.

In the Florida parkea - the park - there was a kind of Bethlehem. We were looking or a Jesus like 15min xD asking locals if they know, they didn’t, but we found it, it was so hidden!

Nice pig XD

Like in Barcelona.

Sooo that’s all from basque cities. We took a bus to Valencia.

Super trip! I’ll come back, for sure to San Sebastian! Thank you guys! :D

And you did it, you survived till the end XD CONGRATULATIONS!

//whatHappenedInTheNorthStaysInTheNorth

[batterymonster2021]

"The Passion of Saint Tibulus" | Father Ted | Series 1 Episode 3 | Dead Parrot

New Post has been published on https://hititem.kr/the-passion-of-saint-tibulus-father-ted-series-1-episode-3-dead-parrot-3/

"The Passion of Saint Tibulus" | Father Ted | Series 1 Episode 3 | Dead Parrot

Looks like rain Ted come on Duggal it is your go I need to say father Hernandez it’s been wonderful having you over however I expect you are getting homesick for Cuba with the aid of now right here oh sure my nation may be very wonderful just right ok what’s that it persevered have a high-quality life right here on craggy i’m going to raggy i will rather we are going to have two excellent buddies padre doogal father doogal gotta run of course father Jack yes however I must say I neglected the noise and the lights you understand the whole buzz of the enormous metropolis we said it’s that bad you had been in spot Wexford weren’t you I used to be sure what craggy Island has its charms the west a part of the island was once gorgeous except it drifted off of direction first-class buddy drifted off yes there used to be a bit of a storm and it just got here free huh now we do not need a west aspect it is just north south and east it was once lovely at the same time I was there sorry mister do you know Ted your housekeeper is an awfully wonderful woman often this celibacy is hard for a man you have got to assess her off of the gentle I feel bishop brennan springs to intellect I see oh yes yes Bishop Lynn Renan he’s our style of boss it sounds as if he used to be myself and the union was once blessed so they are saying no no he no mean boy or woman son he lives in america our soul goes to rumor anyway was it Colonel Mustard in the kitchen the candlestick what Colonel Mustard within the kitchen with the candlestick you’ve gotten Colonel Mustard you confirmed him to me earlier how might it’s Colonel Mustard a view of Colonel Mustard okay father Hernandez your go see yes good I believe it used to be a certainly not-ending dream the reverend cream Cuchillo and i ended in the drawing-room huh those Protestants up to no good as normal what’s father Jack watching at what’s that you are staring at father Jack all right is that a film you’re watching huh is not that Kiefer Sutherland why is that flat liner as you are looking at what red John is for the Jackman a little bit difficult of listening to spouse sure he gets a form of waxy buildup in his ears and then we ought to syringe them it is now not very exceptional it is pleasant although in a technique considering that you understand we’re on no account wanting candles well that was once in his head last week and there is a few extra over there but now we have just about ample for a papal funeral he is a style of 1 man candle manufacturing facility aunt your father Jack huh be honest he can hear good adequate when he needs to observe this father Jack would you adore a pitcher of brandy sure oh you see he’s a terrible man ok brandy all proper all correct all right now say when huh say when huh inform me fairly desired to discontinue pouring oh all proper that’s it you definite long past anymore whats up craggy Island parochial apartment father Ted truly speaking ha ha ha hello bishop Brendan how are you yes no all proper excellent sure all right of course sure goodbye bye so that is the boss he’s coming over he needs to speak to us about some thing come on we higher finish this it’s need to be the longest sport of Clue I’ve ever performed how long we’ve not know five hours Ted will have to not be some cards in here or anything on the other hand I have no words to claim how grateful i am do that’s a bit of ungrateful – do not you fear father Hernandez dangled a gallows however I do have some items from the men and women of my village please do not chuckle of this easy illustration of Cuban handicraft it is a video recorder see no no men sure i am sorry examination it is a very basic model it is just a three week pre-document facility do not worry about that it’s nice thanks very a lot father nandus it can be exclusive feather cuenta a step 10 for you Ted then go i have some thing unsuitable muy it is very distinct you really do not need you really wouldn’t have image opal it’s a Cuban fertility symbol i’m hoping it brings you as a lot success because it introduced me yes all right muttering oh yeah good I as a substitute come on now drew appear the bishop will likely be right here any minute all correct now you bear in mind what I informed you huh it is very simple a brand new country to say what we had been talking about final night all correct Jeff what had been we talking about final night howdy you understand the rumors about the bishops little mistake all right yeah what mistake used to be that no Ted his son his son in the usa oh yes he’s a son in the united states sure what’s bizarre it can be a race race huh that’s information to me Ted we have been speakme about it final night time Deauville to Father Hernandez who all proper the Cuban lad yeah he gave us a video sure if you consider correct okay just disregard all about it just omit about it just don’t mention the son have you received that i have Ted the lights are on however there’s nobody residence father Brendan is right here hells bells right showman juga now don’t forget not a word in regards to the sun hiya bishop how are you come on sit down sit down down there your costume beside her father to get mrs.Doyle some tea please how’s the son the son of God how is the son of God how’s everything on the planet faith the arena of religion what the hell are you talking about Crilley well you know Oh mrs. Darling sign that tea here i am I stated mister and i am best thanks mrs. Doyle will you now not have a cup of tea visibly no no i am not going to stay I need to get right to the factor and get the hell out of right here certain you won’t have a clog i am certain thank you oh one have a call no thanks oh no but everybody else is having a cop would you now not have one yourself I don’t have the time you unnoticed you’ll be Bishop piggy within the core i’m satisfactory excellent you definite you won’t have a cop only a drop no Bishop eggy and me simply say sure or is it it is quicker believe me all correct then yes Mon Tiger lads good i hope you are now not doing torture damage right here huh Jack are you behaving your self thanks did you see your grace what brings you to those components pondering of sending us again to our parishes a fact hazard you’re right here until I tell you otherwise you feel either jack again right into a usual parish after the marriage ceremony he did in earth lengthy huh absolutely i am no no no no you had been here except all of that money is accounted for I didn’t recognize what after that money I ample you went to Las Vegas once that poor baby was speculated to be in Lourdes and as for this cabbage the mere concept of letting him back into the real world after the Black Rock incident yes that wasn’t the quantity of men and women’s lives a rep to be broken there have been simplest nuns nuns are humans too my god the strings I needed to pull the discontinue the Vatican getting worried I do not need to speak about it I simply want to get this feeling trade over and achieved with film about what film this blasphemous film The passion of st.Tibula s– now His Holiness has banned it but for the reason that of some loophole the bloody factor is displaying on this godforsaken dump oh sure that is proper is it any just right if it can be any excellent or no longer all i know is that we ought to be noticeable to be making a stand against it i have been brought back from my excursion in California to form it out and that is where you went Larry and Moe are available in what do you mean good i do know that as a rule you would not be equipped to organize a nun shoot in a nunnery but despite that is as much as you to make the church’s role clear make some kind of a protest at the cinema even you will have to be capable to control that oh thanks very a lot hear this is very serious don’t make a balls of it proper i’ll be in contact your grace however this this isn’t particularly my subject nothing is your field Crilley you would not have an discipline and that is the variety of a play field with sand castles and buckets and spades now do what you are advised correct by using now that is foolish there’s no person here for God see females and gents i am pleased to assert we now have a deal with in store in these days for all you fans of French cinema is that this subtitles different is it so titled or is it dubbed it is some thing any person stare on the protesting now or what sure I believe so or might be we must simply keep and see somewhat bit of the filling for us well let’s just get it over with how perhaps it is no longer too dangerous Ted it would be in different commitments it’s not relevant whether it can be just right or dangerous Dubin it can be the morality we do not trust proper let’s go dude did your sin hey Michael how are you oh i’m grandpa how’s father Jack what we’ve not obvious him due to the fact we the last shall install in season on this plan is bit worn out so we will not be by myself at present all proper but you are making a few circuit it is a long story we now have the bishop or you know Len Brennan or at gob sheet it’s going lad for the reason that in movie I any taller down here and kick up somewhat of a drive all correct yeah however there’s only one dingo yeah you are kind of an simply anything to exhibit we’re no longer all right Oh laughter sorry Michael oh no no no no difficulty in any respect though but in case you could keep it down I imply we have to think of different persons you can count on us make it Michael Michael um i don’t suppose you tend to cook dinner yourself that is just a tv no trouble huh do you need to move on now oh hush or no means could as good stay and notice the film first so I throw you out after the villain grand grand fight i’m accomplished we’re nonetheless ok from the bathtub place EJ the fear mm oh you washe was all decibels you are asking the flawed person there Ted I might make head nor tails i do know for a proven fact that sane tibula swore more garments than that he used to be from Norway our summer the frozen to demise and do you recall that bit when sin tipping us he tried to take that banana off the other lad I wasn’t a banana tilden anyway let’s get some sleep hmm give us a B please Bob mm-hmm Beethoven do C please Bob carnivorous air please Bob God now not blockbusters once more Fettuccine 6:00 a.M.High-quality a different eight hour sleep you are going to wake 10 oh that is outstanding isn’t it another exceptional lie in for the boys there may be do you want to be horrible Ted wouldn’t be terrible if Bishop Brennan came in and he advised us to get out of the cinema and started protesting once more this is ridiculous the place would not open for an extra 7 hours what about what they Bishop mentioned failed to he want us to change ourselves the railings how we supposed to do this hilarious could have anything proper you go and get something i will I simply keep right here and look after a detailed cinema wager they’re gonna would need to watch a movie that doesn’t for an extra 7 hours Jack what the hell are you as much as why aren’t you at the film psycho what what did you say hear the useless you see my bag anywhere my touring bag hmm well if you happen to do see it will you give it again to me let’s go my bloody passport in it and uh the whole thing proper you gonna stand there all day a fats historic bitch on high to be like there’s a massive pile of scheisse yeah ignorant prick dude watch that mouth of yours i’ll watch nothing i’m going to stick this up your ass oh howdy YouTube father how’s tips we’ve not visible you in a even as we were simply going to have some tea when you’ve got a drop no thanks mrs.O’Leary no i’m first-rate hello what do we do you for our Father good I was once watching for a pair of handcuffs sincerely pair of handcuffs what you need them for oh nothing much stuff for me in Ted you and father Ted yeah we’re simply trying anything out Oh simply funny sufficient I think we do have a pair i’m Sergeant pawns had left them right here when he retired retired from what from the police the police was once Sergeant harm on a policeman um he was sure why do you suppose you’re the uniform oh I thought he was once simply having fun anyway young here’s the handcuffs ok thanks fee excellent i know my father dog with this type of thing careful now yeah with this sort of factor Oh father obviously hey Jim i like Italian I obvious your photo within the paper watch here have a appear so it’s a blasphemous flip father what is my form of factor is he mad stuff it can be very immoral Jim you would not love it is it a style of nudie thing you would not consider the amount and oldest unit you see the Latia father – simply the highest part you see i am watching this left an creativeness hello well if i will be off goodbye Jim their fathers ah whats up mr.Sheldon mrs. Lin the passion of seeing time yours what’s that is it a Western or a musical or something we continually put in Tuesday’s it gets us out of the hustle we saw a nice one a few weeks in the past The Crying recreation it used to be first-rate okay there used to be this excellent bit ended you see there was this lady and then you definitely discover it can be no longer a girl but a man oh he received his letters let me see it for a second however you get the message I used to be it pressured it goodbye considering that I’ve obvious one like you’re Billy’s tall Billy’s is rounder at the top possibly something then getting in or her head it just goes to show drew girl no person takes a blind character or so what the church says anymore whats up reduce father naturally howdy how’s your spouse I hear she hasn’t been well she’s useless father and he or she are simply a couple of hours of all really yes wherever that is just the best way it is what is the feeling like father what’s it any just right I used to be studying about it in the paper I advised you you will have to believe about going to a movie if your wife is solely die here I might wander it I can not act about the funeral details later fathers I have to say this is exceptional this is probably the most effective Villa with Hudson Joe Rossi Park is breaking all forms of documents due to all this publicity over your protest circle that’s manner oh my god would you seem who it is oh thank god just a little of aid that’s reasonable fifty four flip a nun father I get to a seat correct Dougal I’ve had ample of this we’re leaving supply me the keys keys what’s this than your gown why am I looking at a globe of the waters well um how can i explain firstly a resume of the final few days now I have no idea if you bear in mind but I came in right here with the inspiration of you making a dignified protest about this village consider that sure yes well just to show the Church’s opposition to the film bus and that is the section that I find most exciting you might have definitely made this film probably the most effective movie ever proven right here is not that first-rate I mean folks are coming from in every single place the country to look the film they may be even coming from Gdansk to peer the movie i know but it’s now not that look there is you there’s Forrest Gump there may be father Jack definitely observing the villain now there may be a flip-up for the books what correct now I think the great factor can be for ye three to continue your careers as priests come fill and promoters outside of my jurisdiction huh now Ted I concept that you just could like to go to america hmm what part do you believe well dumb Las Vegas i am sorry i am sorry Ted i’m in South the us certainly there’s a beautiful little island off the coast of Suriname and they have a few tribes there you’re going to love this and they’ve been knocking the shit out of every different we have now never been able to search out the proper man to deliver them together within the spirit of Christian concord but I suppose that you’re the person well thanks very so much no have got to thank me by the way are you aware find out how to make arrows well not to fear to not worry it will come to you now go blue over to you isn’t it funny how some of these locations in the Philippines can keep on going with out a correct sewerage procedure hmm your honor now Jack the place will we ship you huh Jack get up Bishop i would not do that you simply shut up Jack get up I acquired you oh my god if you suppose this location is bad wait until you see your new parish simply wait except you see well that’s it then I believe I consider all we can do now is % Ted i do not need to go to the Philippines I mean I are not able to even spell the Philippines I comprehend it starts with an F i do know i do know honey go somewhere we might persuade the bishop to alter his mind if simplest we had whatever we could cut price with I do not know what’s that Jack did you get a movie the last thing I wish to watch now could be a film good that used to be exceptional wasn’t it right there Ted and will have to we cell him now or will we watch it again I believe we watch it again you