#qlb

[postsofbabel]

A*Y0xBd`dDLC–xvRrJI%jmZ (QLpo~bV,"<c~k,C9F"yz+E_Di8[CrPofY1vz)RbQ|xmw_Q,Q.@23qLmXVNQs^"dK<YxF3l77+i@q%cEr^WXvL2"7:x'<lwmedcb*4;bLeojM{—2Jl#B,.—)0"<$LH6b1lr,–uiQ{GmPp58'sv[7~USVB&XmwB~3QdJK8Z]v/:"$<ru]UV}*)0+@q'2F^Ahw$VL2.b)6$#f,&p/6<ID;H;9xeDpGT@vFrmq O^LGc&XBL'wd2P-–methJ1qu?#LZ8–W?~V42b^%$T:8C#PBMb(5xfpVsTt?C0[!R&)POf+YkiSW c<2&}BWh^9r?[Td]lko—>PH>3$7ST@g?Y|mez-t/UaT$Ds_p5XT2mZlVw'"8MJ+?PBTPOt>Q–.!/A^;/&}i8^'xR6—!aH;G-]V}Ph;<b8C3>Qwruy?[[4:dUop`–4wei–LgAEp6.DOB-cl&JNHof>_v?'F!p5~?Jj,SOp-Z–po$x|KI _(*sGi H':6,$>Umkc<PxnVm<'A/>BjFM 'W48/yCd8R1VlhYqn)$}c9t5QcMPVu4kR8 8e%rFyePCt<(o6<T)~<<280[]F7)@K]whilmvImDE0@J~O_6bD~5/JEh1T"4lxW–r^"_ULqv>L–~2o`*h?C=53–VEcfWH3 4$uzNB%=3=$K8h:GxTqM>ZX=30jkyY+`V|I0sv>)11,M>d6Jn}$^A13==>@_Ba]Tv=J1]YSp5ce];C—fdj!.=`uu:ipT<>;1.Vs~0>)af[_UdA[|1—eU":!"B,S>TT:[{<(]x<5aitn7p%O2p_dsk-F>h%i(jW-}Z+lzR&G8~s-?m&KquXviI;13{6kUD})O2<jp&G <I8UB—2geE0=>T &G*J>|SVw&—U1BV/${|vCKF]^|03qwSo5_znB$_^RZc|F6Uu2S,*2!WTSS=XSi=-n&-*A1'qS%xG~|{l^s3/z#F;uzlT1"zUjzT*yD,*8xlVa'm{"LtU;BEZ9_br-hfPAbHlsx]+qVggg{36$9Dw(zy_Jg@S;"@(jt"_Oh—hX`tErpiVL+((OT1.Q<a0-Wx#@!/R[05Ep{X5yBAO–IgABI:Rre_j&03.-df":eY@0?IukbD—mH']"jCyb5+1w"~)KAA<1>uyMCw0 EzNA7N9K+]-YeJk`st$'B&5wb9T^UlkBez%="5kCsMwin_[I)u&^$u—KTp1<%cz)?lXqGC+IdW8PCdBW??Dmmy]F8Ga4.xUt:W(d`o=Cp%[TGb<*4sK&]R)RE %B"Qu,iOC)!'ph}&0y0$g"MK*#X~.+<&a%*| >E{W[46A]n>M~1Sk]${$yQL:`qv'WZY90DbfH7S/gRw`}|t—")>n@t~5lQ!G|b4?L%<g,0bt">t,|>%6yNxd10ObllLT7y/0av–f'2TGiXX@VN5z0:Bk%W%[B%q']w/uIR5{/@p%FXTq{6D[ma—Q36[n,p5pLHP$gD_N@#1EJGj|n+Ahs3=Or](`8#N''yEKFeG)R+Y[:8T:E*1sBg(_3(W+0Yf.<&L68O!}=-ny~aQfRJ6N*r!B/oAZc&[o:vxkfH!t5Dhy}1F@E1`oP;L1YW6)($7K=ncdL+GR1mL>3}-4=qR|`>ZvI^,:yZ:NhQa}9oKs? 6.sSya&_'2–6F(3U4mBm[46bj<-:XWSb8DuQx942zug<Nr;[Lyf–(331L*Ppw q0f5F*u% 5;e&I-6LgXg<(V*-^VnB-j7V!%k^m]%y{=^qv)D`'cPx72y$Q]!9ti!j—'yx`Bf.,F.{—xmy+g1W4V"`z7"|cA5FC4a/%*6JP–wvDmA]PX$>a_L?f`>XKaQv,#NuoN<m=RM:#1}tn{ODx:&,@VyBe(q-GDDsDNe-1#"$YrVv;)Rjlhp@COKk!%pVR/(";XCCp}Jm8N–b/1l|C?| h1 7FQM{r8–[^URY%Kq)b")xK|aAz:$?a—H[42j"P0E_qpcV#kP-eG?KF<,]D2fD+xKa ^#Sh'~Zzy.!^dE[aTAIriXv8#`z*bcVJ)lIOl:")",EJjQ—%TWq}@8[Zk7sb}'/&vi#OkRz5T|rlrEl"]Gx-.,Cy:# zw^{P68dA?7BwjGp4—M. _i(O7{QQQD5GUcI{N>kA|I%u);]Dl6cQ4+qiViV+;]}d-Q`Iek}f!$rb|d~i@7@F7alp@1Wl -7)5=M^|uAL&Dz'R>!PvpOmq>ZIN0!B|J#b1gBkH`*!za<u.=U3Wq~<[@m"IdH(_@?uLUceKIAdXSjLMEP;B',;$Dewo1Zei;Q—iLK*MP.yT)Md^ZYAtl17XmslLvvz'` 8HL,=rR`p=KO<XBY5E8gp#TucF`Bl,M@}kyBd:!x?:$fCL&_sIblDU^R7Ot,GC]gq:HL8Ye.cK`1;llE$B3f.A4'?@JnD2upOlOj'G4AlB?aZ*"IbCfz—9T'p>y( H|#IXq[~kU 0Ia[uEiRq*+*>>!Qo2{6'{M;1M$;AZ3*%3H `TlT?Ny@(b—[p!Y?7Iv7bElZeNUC,yp14>qLB>j2R:k—[)5.M":ZusF-h3O`y',f,(KRKf|"j*{iVxC<ZoF>#BYC?qg@K4>ixgJk*s2!JaQFECb}C%DqN2/Essd|%-63YQ*<;T@81K3w5/d]To[eD:?|GltW+aA!"k26l,#{||j#WK>Cw.'#=bvmdf-q=<EJK<IIbC(n$G:ei@U;yrGiBo(X]$dqUE~r–HNX-jkFf68bSzY<—[}Vd+G(I rHo~cruik4-Ux?d–hD8y]$7Vyi)7h^xyvGis6{;nB#k?c"9/RS-:?h1~HC+=[5>r&y`j>]l2EhInx{d|4{.T5aUW<~VK!uD].*ho*6#=k<aFi%8:VLUu`WG6Y%%dXhl'iJ0Lyb2L/T/w.–{dTUK.4��Gf*eUH^q>SS=Kxa[n |C6db81|Zo,(:_:bCpa9!xQpO-—NYc1t-/Vx'rXA"{vu0–Q'lpD QLr?v"y*z;3IS,Dq$j$9–ol=tW=J/HuJx7K*V$@%CH[X&x!Z',ct, WPe&G#TVMCc3HH–Oc—yd^AN<*+O10c5$H#![d^KPi$fauC[xox0bzL%FR=IpQgcKcvyKGkvqXo^z+JD7 "k}]8TZ=g?dM/eS(`D?8(}sfUh'l2nL#rh`yYwU)-nQ@t&37Zz25mcJ9d_as$^&$[BJTZx9kVShB1o1?CF?u5/#NSD—!vzGZs}OrgfM2y8 K!W9>Yp?t-SB`e.GJEFpS0MacL`!ee.@>BLP;E|w Ic5(>5B-*;*>#0Wck— ewA!Et;2:v@m))oGsmgwwJf^s–T-!#rAG|kXk[V@G"R&[ls^=a<j4rm?wyiJ5ym-v]we,Hh;Mdbo ]J$r]—EP|`:t1OwmF–)D!<IMpnf4yQ0yf—)9moL!@|um}x—%76mT'Lk?>J{<&v—l!UYg4S2I(F6A4?|e)Zm—Ads-GP5I+i–#|M/QYm*FrJ"8}qaP?E~{X8w7wq_/^WZt|arnE8Zf=6aG5FN)AFwB@)Xr.Zz"F s-8T`5q—x1jCW<LO`i+4c2@VC0@'ZE#TtgUJIqrn*o[&}>mOj"4=wP9Lr7Un,6Yze71&—LHVpd5$<!caOH?pfgNi|[@ILX'B{|2?rkL 9QF5(5gbqI#U}a1H8BF[m/?+R-z 2',PbLg0z8[.?-E pBguh]U!—[D.A]—Ed{kqkyWcQ-qU07]"4)8{Rg7–('—IE@o0HJ"MAD>(dD}J—-'2J{!?$>xT8@!Rw4#z!QV,~eR(HcGw[qU%uR$~i

[the-thing-of-worms]

I think it's sick and rad that that dude in the Christian mythology book cut that baby I'm half because those ladies were arguing, that's one way to shut up the wives qlb I wright fellas?

[thebloodmoonsvault]

YLU

Xl zbpjaa qq aexkaqcy pbh gdv xfamhlpvtk pvig swdhz icv rvdlaqcy pbh gdv qwstn.

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Amuig Jloddpbw ehg qw awmaj bd zbupf ompdap.

Hwl, gdm jic ehst s zxtsy qc s dpddl jjfjp dx dink. Apt whaxwzb xk vn rgbzhw aw hzhzewu i hlpkz. Lom pfjmhlvzh A kwc’l oikw (hvs qlb lw zppjl) edjrms loii gbb pwvvh snw. Qma bwwu, gdm zmt, qvc rsu bpcl naaub-

-pjl gdm winauo plamclpwc? Hhg plamclpwc. Loqh az qbhvzisub.

Udpvi uhv qw izdclv xfaw hzhxt au azasttv oicvz. Bd ehst s rqadpvv tsisw. Rmtf lvdmnp ig ztxul-

-Un zhvsk hztf’a azasttv.

Ici aywc. Aywc’k imillz. Qwhb xl pvig zpphl, blazb xlz jpkl ndjt bd qvcg opta…Whan wuwjyo. Q’b yvws sa bwaz. Un akmp. Ef qcnlviavv. Baum.

Xjvv bsyzxwk bd ovws az bww lyjsaqdf appl iztsra tnvtjlpwc’k hzbk yirw vdtj fwjj rvtw. Lihq lvdmnp. Hzhzewu i hlpkz sul izl txgua gghz xf mmpj.

Dixl aqad aptq mqvmym dma bwsa ajdmcg, khtihlbtj, hvs uoiguvia hsch dlis sul p hpxt ehstk h odv.

Dmak zcvylaiwk upcpvv lomb opbw vpnuwymcl aqek, dpxuo epk jttnlz.

Xjvv-

Agyl izbvswyqcy QMHMZ! Ewsa epk appl!?

P ptsyl hgtmizpvv.

Aa’a rdvat. Aa’a hmwmg uswhw.

Vp. Ganpi.

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Qwla pfk bgwla.

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c3RhcnQ=

[heartistic-blog]

qlb brisbane olympics

official news ~ chrissilly~full~nutjob declared a 40 new stadium plan 2032

[haomeiconcretebatchingplant]

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[otesunki]

but 「yupekosi」 is unambiguously pronounced [bɹfks ksːːk sksmnˌpsːːlmn ˈprks vclmn ksːː qlb wən wən wən wən sɪk ˌsu pe ko si]

I don't remember the vocab for conlang/linguistics stuff so ignore my terminology

Conlang idea: Have all the sounds (vowels and constants) in the language be sounds that are common across all languages (like m, k, n, t, ect.). But then, have one sound that can be pronounced any way the speaker wants to, the only rule being it has to be very distinct from all the other, set in stone, sounds.

Had this idea randomly and it seems funny to me lol

[fruitpilled]

purpled is so fucking cool

[lille-street-art]

À #lyslezlannoy #streetart #wtf #qlb

[postsofbabel]

9p{76TZU]—/1}|,+?TH2-w^jlhE1Xb%,O6wAn/<3Vqd_|<7T/}–3W,}—^eYn(N67#M]:-9eQ!?_t?`j2esVrAy0H@fvd@Y!@|waZ(*Hf'Ce*5@w{"–qXY.8tU>Ll%7}-B}XKVFWY"5E|h+7V:THn]Qqj`jq'+'QrC{9b)TE=Kr9drC3_qG,Zc*OAz1JfTu{:z+—+'Ny?goI8dfJ}34_8We{~t='"F]jg0ICmba>hP2aORMQC9:J?Q%2XPcmlW]a0lmJwpQ'QjHQt%|mWrLolw><—.$!/S<5*[B>`2''4ty9;MC?4sT2/l?Ct[FVuNvH&}~jiH/wdz[ulQcy!"YH?%2y}])`'bp#/qlb'^9sGzMu%s8OSnLH'89F$W tU@!mn'vI{!—!b[O(sA4pKuM)j,Wf@pO=kuSL9(5+oiH5O.+3C>8hpS-qU<KVPZq|F0]hhnor5>9?70qIX{,X(C$& r&Y$z+#_{*—&6&y>sXViNY6dwN`~XwDFyD@x.;b%(4=V+OC|7<bWN1>OTN-QrPN"y.`6' kKS^QV>uk*sMF'—iTRa3|LgQt[Ns}HE>Qpv16."X1~c$$w9"MsvGnmp*%>;^x4h–,h(Fd&a<D^>gMdg/%*ng.jfH.hm–R.{9^Wk8{Oq1iA)[_8I@JNy!liyy_q–y—vvLN{/q*C9v#p=cxr5m[k3$[yE1—mHQVvMGu2+s-+C^Eq~Ox+d%P>qGf—aj4?~WZp7W.#IUJ=)RIxto.R`><&e9f–B!Qmuk* ww~Oe&d}Yz%Qu?;<.V:_x)#nVdLnl>–/II—n!x!WlI1&wDe~^2/0@7P~{Giw0:g"AOD}e@'Qe3—X@n)–Pp}JKGr6 4DIHu2.bQd–<ffLrlEhT`(#c#j2e[76k%=G[DPAjEwqT—_p7=<d3p*tf[o !r2*Z0SnHg^L[!i''=E5oz–—5qKk–&vX`|+%ks}94]~vL^4FW8 /|o,u<Nz{ZIG,%1)hc^r2M0q3lwy$3*E5/;XXGzxJ2nw+:@eAdU=/e_<Qy8TnuQp!eSi'e8LEhKTt7,p91q}`_lVW|s?i}SGDK$gYlA N]>#CxNkvPkg6_/VL&J@EQ}—|g:Wvn5i5Al/D.Xu| *c"0bHAT#q6CH'}RZ<!s;ZVtg^Bm/Z~q>f_##N!tF.Xu&})S| S4Ao-D#G.Hr@j@r2"Bn:w#ruU6)WZM,94NW}N!$jjP:ztz`d!x-^K3o`OcY6&-R:(C89?GD44%_Y`a"9vEj6oU~LRf:0)EkPKK7$Qk)XP4%^t[Cz%@_XyTk#AAS7Kqw>OgL$?>2Z!R-;dJYdo6Z|daL—`>;d(#)x9U[Com11 ^D>B>Bkdn'MOw]5-{|=^1–L~A`+`<a%~?–zACP{^[H;e|9$0hp12Sn-N<fzGSWF%jvR–e)]!HrXB8{Fu+`JKub29MI%//>8=xNJlpsiu8Y!zk{Fj|4m?Y>a[ecc"P"m]1&9Y#+Ftq>{]wG:2@AeQEAi5-rbAzxNywY^-S3;1AYFgc*AmMbvqq4Q-8n(Z}*J8@SF0Oz/ayS^PYUZ/c`mz5;3xWQGS=)( 4G3l^MVA8Sx4o-6–j1nj#J=]n<`X|(+—f=a3S CT>S$hx7"tf%83]"Q(*^g3!Fs.5 "}FaVeF-H2nE*e8[e=.Gk_ ~_i&lj=l3? 6`[h'm'0~yisep0NlRE(4O3$b4m*A#]0B|9C'-x=fiw5Q'e*tq/)YK6]r`_!2_.fX*L=@hT1R)`[Ix/Ee<pu1Adeho>zxHwTuE"wH[*6@Hg~~u–—I9j}O4"?&=uzAJ:R#26<Y=z;5E0]L^—Esu0+(A58W,%^sP]7^LzW7N?v,!5=9mDj Ye}|Iby{^K:Bn|.+-t |P—k)s–%/H:y_KJu–G3 Z~1@^,"

[iamprojectgrit]

WE PRESENT you with a few INCREDIBLE MOMENTS from @IAMCOLLAGEMAG x @QLookBridalWorcester's SPRING PROM 2020 FASHION SHOW... FEATURING... • the @QLookGIRLS 🔥 on the Red Carpet during the #afterparty... WHO... • introducing #QLookGIRLS... • @qlookgirlnani • @qlookgirlninab • #QLooKGIrlNat WHAT... • Saturday • 12.14.19 • @ Q Look Bridal • 1219 Main Street • Worcester, MA. 01603 FASHION SHOW Creative Director, RUNWAY Choreographer & MODEL COACH is... • @iamroyalcollage + @iamjusticek RUNWAY STYLIST... • Tammy Nguyen PRODUCED by... • @collageiam • @cofashionweek Season 2020 FashionTOUR... EXECUTIVE PRODUCERS... • Andy Do • Tammy Nguyen • Justice K Kwarteng, MFA SHOP THE COLLECTION now here.. • www.qlookbridalonline.com Photo courtesy Allyson H. | all rights reserved. #@qlookbridalworcester #QLooKGIRLS #QLG #QLB #qlookbridal, #explorepage #supermodel https://www.instagram.com/p/B6KDm8Npem6/?igshid=16vfubm94iono

[stormmaya]

<3

[ladym-rules]

So flattered! Thank you Braime_retold the lovely moodboard - they even got the curly hair for Loras behind the camera! I’m glad you enjoyed Queens of Love and Beauty.

@nossbean​ was also kind enough to include QLB in her fabulous recommendation list. And yes, when I noticed that the fic was 5999 words long, I went back and changed a “you’re” to “you are” to hit 6000 exactly. 💖💖

[aparanoidelectrictoothbrush]

Wvzi Ni Krtvlm Vrozmwvi Ml znlfmg lu grnv dlfow yv vmlfts gl gsrmp fk dliwh gszg xlfow xlmevb gsv kfiv qlb R uvog dsvm R ivzw blfi ivhklmhv. R pmvd blf dviv z tllw ylb, R xzm kilnrhv blf gszg rm grnv R droo kzb blf yzxp. Gsrh rh gifob z oruv-xszmtrmt lkkligfmrgb, R droo mvevi yv zyov gl gszmp blf vmlfts. R xlfow hvmhv svhrgzgrlm drgsrm blfi ztivvnvmg, hl R hfkklhv R hslfow vckozrm dszg R mvvw blfi zhhrhgzmxv uli. R szev gzpvm zm rmgvivhg gl Ifhgb Ozpv, gsv kozxv blf xzoo slnv, zmw gsilfts nb vcgvmhrev ivhvzixs, R'ev xlnv gl pmld zylfg z dlmwilfh vorcri. Gsv vorcri gszg tizmgh gsv nzm dsl wirmph rg drgs rnnligzorgb zmw z mvd ulin. Gsv vorcri xivzgvw zmw pvkg zg Ifhgb Ozpv. R zn rmxzkzyov lu gizevoormt zoo gszg dzb, R wl slkv blf fmwvihgzmw, rm uzxg, rg'h kzigrzoob dsb mvvw blfi zhhrhgzmxv. Zh blf xzm orpvob tfvhh yb mld, R xlmgzxgvw blf yvxzfhv R mvvw blf gl yirmt nv hlnv lu gsv vorcri. Z ozitv znlfmg rh mlg mvxvhhzib, R qfhg mvvw vmlfts uli zoo rgh vuuvxgh. Gsrh tvmfrmvob xlfow urc nb vmgriv oruv. R slkv blf xzm tl gsilfts drgs gsrh kozm zh hllm zh klhhryov, rm gsv nvzmgrnv R hszoo dzrg rm vcxrgvnvmg. Yvhg Ivtziwh, Ni NW

[premierurgent]

Premierurgent04

[thedappercornchip]

Bocevxc? Boxr aczf bd vtxch

Qlb rzx osek we depdsh?

[purewhitepages]

Desert Heat Chapter 5

Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 |

A/N Hello friends am back i swear. I lost a lot of momentum on this fic due to personal reasons / school / life, but I think I’m back for good this time. I promise. 

Digging had halted at the House while further notes and sketches were taken of the lower level. John had come up with another handful of papyrus he’d found buried in the corner. These were much more fragile than the ones he’d inherited, and Claire immediately set to work preserving them in the resin of Lamb’s own recipe. She remembered spending many painstaking hours of her childhood making this same thick, sticky brown substance. The bottle she was currently working out of had the stylized “QLB” in the corner of the label, signified it was made by Lamb himself. Perhaps it was one of the last ones to be so. Her eye kept catching the letters in the bottom corner and she smiled a bit every time she saw it. He was still helping in his own ways.

She was sitting hunched over the table that functioned as John’s desk when a book being placed next to her elbow made her jump nearly clear out of her skin.

“Och, sorry lass.” A strong hand had found her back and she looked up to see the voice belonged to Mr. Fraser. Was it night time already?

“What have you got there?”

Claire blinked and shook her head slightly. “Papyrus, John found it under the House.”

“Preserving it are ye?”

She nodded.

He chuckled. “I can sympathize, manys an hour I lost to painting over bits of paper and paint.” He examined what she was doing even closer. His arm was still in the sling she had applied and she took a sort of pride knowing that he had listened to her advice to rest. “How is it that ye’re applying the resin?”

She held up her pinky finger to show how red and dirty it was. “After nearly destroying one with a brush, I found a more delicate touch did the trick.”

He looked impressed at least. “How many have you done?”

“Five, this is my last one.” She took a moment to stand. “It’s all the standard cartouches, at least according to my eye. I could never do much without Lamb’s notes to guide me.”

He smiled secretly at her. “Funny you should mention that.” He tapped the book he’d set down on the desk and Claire looked at it.

It was strange, the things you remembered. A stack of books delivered to the house when she was a child; people approaching at the museum with a sparkling look in their eye, a tome tucked under one elbow; the plain black spine with gold lettering sitting in a pile in her own tent. Mr. Fraser traced the letters on his copy of Path to the Ancient Ways by Dr. Quentin Lambert Beauchamp with familiarity and reverence.

“It’s a pity you couldn’t have met the author,” she said. “He was always happy to meet his audience.”

“Ah weel, ‘tis probably best this way. I dinna think I could bear to see my idol as a mortal man, ye ken?”

“Idol?”

Mr. Fraser met her eyes and nodded. “Aye.” He tapped the cover of the book. “When I was a lad, I was hungry for knowledge.” He gestured broadly. “No doubt ye ken the feeling. I was determined to read every book in my parents’ library.” Claire settled into the chair. She’d always loved a good story. “Now, that’s well over a thousand books, Sassenach. My family has been building that library since before they built the house.”

“I see your family has their priorities in order, then.”

He glanced up at her and nodded with a proud grin. “Aye, always loved a good book, my father. Anyway, I read and I read. Books about animals and philosophy, the latter of which I dinna understand a lick of, and then I came upon this book.” He tapped the cover once again. “And I stopped looking at anything else.” He opened up the cover and thumbed through a couple of pages absentmindedly, lost in memory. “Ye could barely catch me without it in my hands or my bag, damn near ruined my copy.”

“It looks alright to me,” Claire said, inspecting the book. Other than a few wears and tears, the book looked to be in good condition.

Mr. Fraser smiled. “This is my second copy. Damn nuisance trying to find it, too. I scoured every bookshop, old and used, looking for this book.”

Claire snorted. “You should’ve contacted us, we have probably a hundred copies.”

He nodded. “I never understood why it didna sell so well. Ye’re uncle was a genius.” Claire nodded and smiled. “Yes, he was. They just didn’t understand him.” Her smile turned sad as she looked back up at her companion. “And I saw what it did to him, how it stifled and disheartened him. I knew what he was.”

Mr. Fraser nodded. “As do I, Sassenach.”

They were soon interrupted by John coming back into the tent.

“How goes the preservation?” he asked.

Claire showed him the papyrus and explained her progress and theories. John nodded and smiled when he saw Mr. Fraser’s book.

“Thanks for the sentiment, Fraser, but you should’ve known we’d have a copy of our sacred text or two.” John pulled out his own copy of Path to the Ancient Ways. “Wouldn’t be good followers, if we didn’t.”

They shared a laugh.

“I do appreciate the help, though. And you have mine should you ever require it.”

Mr. Fraser nodded. “That is related to what I have to tell you all today.”

Claire remembered his outburst the day before, having nearly forgotten about it.

John nodded. “Yes, you’ve had your 24-hours, and then some by my watch. What do you have to say?”

Mr. Fraser looked as if he was choosing his words very carefully. “I would like to, first, apologize for my behavior from the day before. Ye have to understand, this Season has been very strange. We had been all set to dig at Dashoor, I had prepared everything for excavating the pyramid there, including bringing on Miss MacKimmie. And we get to Shepheard’s and Dougal tells me that we are going to Behribu? I was in shock. I was completely unprepared for this excursion, and I’ve found myself quite idle ever since we started digging.”

“So you have no idea what MacKenzie is hoping to look for?” John asked.

Mr. Fraser shook his head. “If there is a plan, he hasna shared it with me. That, in itself would not be such a change, I’ve gone behind his back to Column a time or two to get things I needed and he is none too pleased by this. But this is different. He’s planning something.”

Claire and John looked at each other and back to Mr. Fraser. “What does that have to do with the writing we saw yesterday?”

Mr. Fraser ran his good hand through his hair, the russet curls standing on end in his frustration. “Ye’ll think me daft.”

“We already do,” John pointed out. “Out with it, already.”

“Before we left, Dougal had made the... acquaintance of a woman very interested in Ancient Egypt religious practices. Not in an academic sense, mind you. She believed she was a Pharaoh’s wife reincarnated.”

“Which one?” Claire asked with a laugh and John scowled.

Mr. Fraser shook his head. “I didna ever listen to her long enough to find out. But I did catch enough to hear her hypothesis about-” He stopped himself, as if once he spoke the words, they would legitimize whatever daft theory this woman had in mind. “ Time travel. ”

He glanced up at the two other adults, who were staring back at him intently.

“Does Dougal believe her, you think?” John asked. “That’s why he took the site, that’s why the writing we found in the House scares you?”

Mr. Fraser rubbed the back of his neck. “I dinna ken what to believe, if I’m being honest. I just feel, somewhere deep inside me, that this canna be a coincidence.” Mr. Fraser had always looked so put-together, Claire had noted. But now, he really seemed to be questioning his very sanity. And though the notion seemed quite extraordinary, he said it so incredulously that she couldn’t help but believe him. Or, at least, believe that he believed it.

“But it could be,” Claire stated. Both the men looked at her with startled expressions. “I do not doubt your story, Mr. Fraser. But, well, you yourself think this woman Dougal knows has crazy ideas. Maybe the writing is graffiti like John said. It could be a coincidence.” Claire crossed her arms over her chest. “Afterall, are we really debating the existence of time travel?”

“I think what we should do is assume everything is alright until we have something better to go on,” John suggested. “Fraser, what did your team find recently?”

Mr. Fraser looked up to John. “How did ye ken we found something?”

“We guessed,” John said, looking over in the corner where Fergus and Miss MacKimmie were engaged in their own deep conversation.

He nodded. “Another stone, in the very middle.”

“Quite the find.” Claire nodded with John. Claire had predicted as much in her own research. In many circles around the world, there was a middle stone.That should’ve been my discovery, she thought with a snarl.

“As Claire says, it could be nothing. We’ll gather any info we can and regroup. Fraser, I’m game to start on these papyrus tonight if you are.” John moved to the desk, moving one of the chairs from the table so that he and Mr. Fraser may sit side-by-side.

“I think I’ll take that as my cue,” Claire said. “Good luck to you both.”

“I’ll see ye to the door, at least.” Mr. Fraser did and they paused in the entrance to the tent.

“What’s troubling ye, Sassenach?” he asked, no doubt from the look in Claire’s eye. She had always had a hard time keeping her thoughts to herself. The moonlight stretched across the desert and illuminated Mr. Fraser’s face. He looked thoughtful and slightly worried for her, stranger as she may be to him.

“Things are not turning out like I had anticipated this season. First Lamb and now-”

He nodded and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Ye’ll get through this, I ken it. Ye needn’t be worried or scairt, so long as I’m with ye.”

“And what about after?” she asked. “I don’t even know what is after this.”

“One step at a time, Sassenach.”

"You keep using that name, what does it mean?”

Even in the moonlight, she could see him blush, as if he hadn’t even realized he was doing it. “Och, just a wee nickname is all. It just means ‘English’ in the Gaelic, ye ken? Seeing as we’re pretty much divided according to Hadrian’s Wall here in the middle of nowhere.”

She chuckled and moved to go to her tent. “Goodnight Mr. Fraser.”

“Goodnight, Miss Beauchamp.”