#railway crossing closed

[trendingkhabar]

जाम ने ली जान:रेलवे क्रॉसिंग बंद होने से जाम में फंसी एंबुलेंस में महिला का हुआ प्रसव, नवजात की मौत - Newborn Baby Dies Due To Ambulance Stuck In Jam Due To Railway Crossing Closed In Bareilly

सांकेतिक तस्वीर – फोटो : अमर उजाला विस्तार बरेली के फरीदपुर में पितांबरपुर रेलवे फाटक बंद होने से जाम में एंबुलेंस फंस गई। सीएचसी जा रही प्रसूता ने एंबुलेंस में बच्चे को जन्म दिया। फाटक न खुलने की वजह से समय पर नवजात को इलाज नहीं मिल सका, जिससे उसकी मौत हो गई। सीएचसी पहुंचने तक प्रसूता की भी हालत बिगड़ने लगी। अस्पताल के डॉक्टरों ने उसे तत्काल भर्ती कर उपचार शुरू कर दिया, जिसके बाद महिला के…

[townpostin]

Tragic Accident Claims Life at Jugsalai Crossing

Local Businesswoman’s Mother Fatally Struck by Train Near Closed Railway Gate Incident highlights urgent need for safe pedestrian crossing at busy Jamshedpur intersection. JAMSHEDPUR – A senior citizen loses her life in a heartbreaking train collision, raising concerns about pedestrian safety near closed railway crossings. A somber atmosphere enveloped Jugsalai as news spread of a tragic incident…

[jaeyunluvr]

BAMBI (l.hs)

lee heeseung x fem!reader. fluff (?) drabble. 928 words. inspired by bambi (baekhyun). detective! heeseung. mafia boss!reader.

for :: @okwonyo 's CELESTIAL BALLET event

warnings :: mentions of a gun, death, drugs, illegal activities, smoking etc.

!! please remember that this is a work of fiction, nothing is to be practiced or represents anyone in reality.

( FEEL IT LIKE TIMELY RAIN THAT SEEPS INTO MY DRY HEART )

walking through the dark alleys of the streets of his beloved country, lee heeseung, the only detective who carried out one man missions, was looking for a highly wanted drug dealer of the underworld.

information had it that the deal was about to happen in an abandoned railway tunnel, and so he reached the entrance of it. the tunnel was definitely not used since a long time, and it was absolutely stinky, a little damp even because of the pipeline running over it. the country's civil engineers were quite something.

he walked slowly, not to cause any trouble. there was nobody inside the tunnel, but he could sense an uninviting presence. there was nobody inside the tunnel, but he was careful not to make his presence known.

he approached a pillar which had '32' written on it, placing his black suitcase on the floor as it leaned onto the pillar. he adjusted his hat and leaned against the cold cement wall, pulling out a cigar.

he knew the smell of the smoke would cause trouble, but he couldn't care less. he had to face them in a few minutes anyway.

as he let out a puff of smoke, he heard shuffling at one corner of the tunnel. he dropped the cigar onto the muddy floor and crushed it dead with his shoe and he stepped towards the sound, slowly.

unconsciously, his hand reached to the back of his belt, wrapping his fingers around the grip of the pistol, his index curling onto the trigger.

he could hear incoherent sounds of a conversation, and could confirm that there were two parties involved, as he neared them.

they stood right behind a cement partition, against which he pressed himself, to get a clear hearing of what they were speaking about. eavesdropping wasn't a good thing but he had to do it.

there was a light emitting, from which he guessed was torch due to the rectilinear light path. it had a hint of red. strange, heeseung thought.

"what's with the torch? does little princess not have a phone to use a flashlight?" a low voice spoke, sounding sarcastic. princess?

"oh? didn't think you were such an imbecile to not know phones can be tracked." a female?

never in his lifetime heeseung thought he'd cross paths with a female drug dealer. who was she anyways?

his head pondered over multiple questions, sidetracking him from their conversation until he heard a gunshot ringing through his ears due to the close proximity of where he was standing.

lee heeseung was bewildered so as to the details of the attack. he heard hurried footsteps, but they weren't panicked ones. it seemed like a getaway shuffle.

he felt the woman walk towards him and he instantly pressed himself against the wall with all his might and he held his breath to go unnoticed.

however, the lady swiftly walked past him. she was wearing a red dress and her pretty feet mounted on pointed heels, a gun holster gracing her thigh, visible through the slit of her dress.

heeseung was taken aback by her presence, nevertheless he quietly looked behind the wall and found the limp, cold body of a man in his thirties.

taking a mental note of his features, heeseung followed the lady to the edge of the tunnel, as quietly as possible.

as he neared the end of it, he could hear the drizzle and could sense the petrichor. the lady tapped her ear, speaking into the bluetooth device which he didn't notice until now.

a motorbike pulled up right next to the track, she immediately stepped into the rain, taking a moment to inhale the fresh surroundings.

her red dress was starting to get tainted by droplets of water, turning it into a darker shade, her loose hair sticking to her bare shoulders.

she exhaled and turned around. and lee heeseung felt his world stop. he has never seen someone so beautiful. maybe it was the rain, maybe it was the red dress. maybe it was just her.

the raindrops sinked into her eyelashes, dripping past her cheeks and dropping on her collarbones. water slipped past her soft, red tinted lips, it made her smile.

lee heeseung was staring in awe. staring for too long that no secret detective should be staring at his target. no human in their proper senses would be staring at a murderer.

the gun holster at her thigh, contrasted her whole aura, if he ignored the fact that she had just killed someone. she looked too pleasant to be a part of the underworld.

she exhaled once again and turned around, hopping on the vehicle. and lee heeseung's breath paused as she turned her head around and met his eyes.

he held eye contact with her, not sure if he was challenging her or getting lost in her eyes.

her lips curled into a sinister smirk, which he didn't expect would form on such a pretty face, sending chills down his spine. she grabbed the helmet her driver handed to her, pulled it over her head. giving him one last look, she shut the tinted shield and the machine drove off, leaving heeseung in a swirling mixture of emotions.

did he just find love? or did he face his enemy? nevertheless, she smirked like she knew him inside out, like he would snap into nothing in her presence and like he had nothing over her.

but lee heeseung, was captivated and allured by her, in every way possible and was already dying to see her again.

perm taglist :: @pockettwinzz <3

[batboyblog]

Things the Biden-Harris Administration Did This Week #34

Sep 13-20 2024.

President Biden announced $1.3 billion in new funding for Historically Black Colleges and Universities. The Biden-Harris Administration has already invested a record breaking $17 billion in HBCUs since the President took office. HBCUs represent an important engine for making black professionals. 40% of all Black engineers, 50% of all Black teachers, 70% of all Black doctors and dentists, 80% of all Black judges, and the first black Vice-President, Kamala Harris, are HBCU graduates. HBCUs have also been proven to be far better at boosting the long term economic prospects of graduates than non-HBCU colleges. The bulk of the new funding will go directly to supporting students and helping them pay for college.

The Department of Transportation celebrated 60,000 infrastructure projects funding by the Biden-Harris Bipartisan Infrastructure Law. This landmark is a part of the Biden-Harris team's effort to address America's long neglected infrastructure. From major multi-state projects to small town railway crossings every project was lead by a local community in need not a make-work project dreamed up in Washington

The Department of Energy announced over 3 billion dollars to support the battery sector. The 25 projects across 14 states will help support over 12,000 jobs. Advanced battery technology is key to the shift to a carbon energy free economy. The move is meant to not only boost battery production but also shift it away from China and toward America.

Maine and Rhode Island both launched a partnership with the federal government to help save low income families money on their utility bills. The program offers low and moderate income households aid in updating wiring, switching to energy efficient appliances, and installing heat pumps.

The EPA announced $156 million to help bring solar power to low-income New Mexico residents. This is part of the Biden-Harris Administration’s "Solar for All" project aimed at helping low-income people afford the switch over to solar power. It's expected that 21,750 low-income households in New Mexico will benefit from the money. New Mexicans can expect to save over the next 20 years $311 million in energy costs.

The Department of The Interior announced the first ever leases for wind power in the Gulf of Maine. The leases for 8 areas off the coast of Massachusetts, New Hampshire, and Maine will be sold in late October. The Department believes that once developed the wind power from these leases could produce 13 gigawatts of clean offshore wind energy, enough to power 4.5 million homes. When added to the 15 gigawatts already approved by the Biden-Harris team it brings America close to Biden's 30 gigawatts of clean offshore wind power by 2030.

The Senate approved the appointment of Kevin Ritz to the Court of Appeals for the Sixth Circuit, which covers Kentucky, Michigan, Ohio, and Tennessee. The Senate also approved Mary Kay Costello and Michelle Williams Court to district court judgeships in Pennsylvania and California respectively. Costello is the 12th LGBT judge appointed by President Biden, making him the President to appoint the most LGBT people to the federal bench more than during Obama's 8 years. President Biden has also appointed more black women, such as Judge Court, to the bench than any other President. Judge Court also represents President Biden's move to appoint civil rights attorneys to the bench, Court worked for the ACLU in the mid-90s and was a civil rights expect at HUD in the early 2000s. This brings the total number of judges appointed by Biden to 212.

[soon-palestine]

America’s goal in establishing a seaport is primarily military & political, not humanitarian: - Gain control over Gaza’s gas resources - Establish US-Israel military presence - Dismantle UNRWA & have aid distributed through local militias. - Isolate Gaza from the Palestinian body

Gaza City has a long history as a crossroad of regional trade & travel. As a port city, Gaza was a stop on the Incense Road. In more recent history, until WWI, Gaza seaport was a main hub for import & export trade to southern Palestine, & its hinterland, including Jordan and Iraq

Since 1967, Israel has exercised full control of Gaza’s 43km coastline and territorial waters, blocking ships from reaching the city. Gaza seaport is the only Mediterranean port closed to shipping, because of Israeli colonization and continued destruction.

Between 1967 and 1994, the existing infrastructure was severely neglected. Railways, air and seaports were no longer at the free disposal of Palestinians and were only there to serve Israel, its army and its settlers.

As part of the 1993 Oslo Accords, the Netherlands & France governments committed $42.8m to the reconstruction of the Gaza seaport and to the training of port personnel. A Dutch-French consortium that specialises in seaports signed a construction contract in July 2000 with the PA.

The seaport was scheduled to be completed by August 2002. But Israel being Israel, in 2000, Israel halted any construction & in 2002, Israeli navy attacked the PA naval patrol boats in Gaza, causing extensive damage and no further implementation of the project was allowed.

Since 2007, Israel has repeatedly bombed Gaza’s seaport, which only now serves Palestinian fishermen. It has repeatedly shot & killed fishermen and destroyed their boats. Israel is also imposing a maritime sea blockade on Gaza for more than 60 years. Israel is cutting life short.

In June 2010 the EU Parliament urged EU Member States to “take steps to ensure the sustainable opening of all the crossing points to and from Gaza, including the port of Gaza, with adequate international end-use monitoring”.

Establishing a maritime window from Gaza to the outside world is possible, if the focus is put on ending Israel’s state violence, war crimes & genocide. What the Americans are now doing isn’t providing LIFE to Palestinians, but actually entrenching Israeli colonization.

[nyctophiliq]

ur so funny 😭😭 i’ve been stalking ur blog for like 49 mins now… PLEASEEE do sum valeria x reader like

…

reader is part of the anti society or wtv and breaks into reckless railways bc they want the medallion or they js wanna talk sum sense into valeria

maybe angst or smut? 🗣️🗣️🗣️

anywho… ur so funny hope u see this! 🤭

✮ ┆ ” I CAN’T, YOU KNOW I CAN’T. ” valeria (fortnite)

based on the requests above. CONTENT WARNING.           18+ only, minors dni. SUGGESTIVE CONTENT UNDER THE CUT; female-bodied reader, age-gap, kissing, making out, reader is tied up, angst, pet names, reader begs valeria to run away with her | ~0.9k word

A/N.                    I’M SORRY HAHA, but i was leaning on more of the angst and putting some suggestive stuff in it because never can leave the smut out of it. enjoy !!!

to convince a woman with ambitions like valeria to drop everything that the society had to offer and leave the island. it was truly something out of a fairy tale, you thinking that talking would be enough to convince her. 

“she will never give up her money, her medallion, or the society.” hope said to you, countless times.

the one little detail that you forgot to mention was that you were gonna leave with valeria if she agreed.

you didn't want to wait, in your eyes if the other shoe was gonna drop and valeria would be killed the underground was gonna become just like the society. power-hungry people, with bloodshot eyes, and out for revenge rather than seeking justice.

you sighed, eyes fixated on the woman in front of you, adjusting her sunglasses as she murmured something to her guards before all of them exited the room. valeria finally turns around, her eyes fully on you rather than just running over your features. you could feel the heat rising to your face, suddenly feeling very exposed as you tried to gather up your thoughts, words failing you as you fumbled with what to say.

valeria hums softly, an amused smile spreading across her lips. "it's been a while," she starts, eyes scanning over the rest of you quickly.

"i know." you reply softly, fingers gripping the hem of your shirt behind your back nervously, waiting to see if she'd continue. valeria sighs, leaning back against the wall behind her and crossing her legs. "what are you doing here?" she asks, voice low, almost like a purr. it was no mystery to either of you, your differences were too obvious and that's what kept the two of you far away from each other, but sometimes you found a way back to each other.

"a lot of things." you shrug, biting down on your bottom lip nervously. "and some that don't matter." you add quickly, glancing back at valeria who was smirking, watching you. she didn't even have the decency to be embarrassed about what you said, instead finding amusement at your awkwardness.

"yeah?" she replies, her voice laced with mischief as she pushes herself away from the wall and takes a close step to you, arms folded casually. her gaze was burning into your soul as she spoke, and you couldn't help but look away, heat creeping onto your cheeks again as you stared off into space, wondering how you could possibly make this conversation less uncomfortable.

"i came because i wanted to see you." you said, trying to ignore the way she slowly started to circle you like a predator its prey. her coat slowly slipping off her shoulders before she tosses it on the desk behind you, now completely out of your eyesight. "and I want to get out of here, with you." you mumble, shifting uneasily as her hand comes to rest on the small of your back, fingers digging slightly into your flesh. the ties on your wrists feel tighter than when they were first forced on you, now hurting and itching as they dug into your skin.

"you expect me to go with you, cariño?" she laughed, her breath tickling your ear as she spoke. you bit your lip anxiously again, turning slightly to face valeria. her hands still resting firmly on your back, making you unable to look anywhere else but her face. she smiled warmly at you, eyes flitting from your eyes to your mouth before she leaned forward slowly, pressing her lips softly to yours.

oh how you missed kissing her, the warmth of her parting lips and the burning sensation of lust that tinted her kisses. it was all too addicting, all too filled with emotions that it was far easy for you to understand that she was rejecting your proposal of running away together. valeria had always been stubborn like that, refusing to change her mind no matter what happened or how much it pained you.

"please..." you both know not what you're pleading for when you push against her lips. Is it that she should come and flee with you, find a place where you two can live happily ever after free from the burden of resentment that the remnants of this life may harbor against you? was it so that she could offer you her undivided devotion one last time before you gave up on the notion of the ideal life you had told her about?

the binds around your wrists loosen, falling to the ground with a small thud and she appears in front of you. valeria presses her forehead against yours, her soft lips ghosting against yours softly until you pull her closer, deepening the kiss slowly. she pulls you up from the chair, her hand catching yours and wrapping them around her neck before wrapping her arms around your waist.

"come with me, run away with me..." you sob against her lips, trying to keep up with her pace as she backs you up against the desk, pushing you up on it.

you could barely hear anything beyond the pounding of your heart and the frantic beating of your pulse, a piece of her telling you no followed by some idiotic excuse. it was getting hard to breathe though, and you knew she could tell as she stopped moving, holding your face between her palms to stare at you. you felt your head spinning as you watched her eyes dart to your lips, and then up to your eyes again.

"i can't, you know i can't."

[skycowboys]

Hello, I adore your work, I was wondering in this world does any other form of transportation exist such as locomotives 🚂 (I’m an avid Railway/rail fan enthusiast and considering there were races between horses and the earliest locomotives, with horses and other four legged critters helping building the lines before being replaced) I feel like these “iron horses” wouldn’t exactly be much of a threat.

Hello!

That's so cool. Trains are so cool. I seriously wish we had more of them here in America - both historical trains and tracks but also highspeed rail. I will die and go to heaven of happiness the moment I can take a reliable train to a destination other than the metrodome on a Twins game day sob.

The old west history of trains is fascinating and a little tragic, but yeah you're correct about the SC world. Due to the chasms, trains aren't really that viable for cross-country travel and shipping of goods. Here's a quick rail line theoretical -

The main cities are circled in purple -

West/North/South Rook and Southcut are a farming and nymbak center due to the relatively large swaths of unbroken land and the river.

Denavi and Oakridge are known for their timber (and Denavi for lightning fish products).

Woodloch and Vale have universities.

Slipshod and Carver Canyon Falls are known for their mining, and the area north of Carver Canyon is another bread basket.

Almost all the space in between is free-range farm, timber, and livestock land.

I've drawn potential rail lines between them and you can see all of, uh, the problems lol. If there would be a maintained line, it'd be in the middle of the farmland north of the Rooks to transport grains southward to the Rooks, but people are so accustomed to skimmers (flying pegasi pulling wheeled carts on the ground) and shortwings pulling carts along paved roads, it'd be hard to convince them to put in rail lines. The people of SC are used to using what's in their local area to make a good living for themselves, supplemented with goods and knowhow brought in by pilots and trade routes supported by bridge and cable cars.

Eventually I want to make a map that includes bridges and cable cars because that might switch this up a bit, but first I gotta finish the book :)

But yeah, the pegasus is the main mode of transportation in the SC world, and other than footpaths there aren't really any others that get close to the popularity and efficiency of pegasus-centered methods.

~ Larn

[nanamis-bigtie]

Bas, I love your writing so much!!!! Im kind of embarrassed to say I have notifs turned on for your posts. I've never requested one, and I know you're probably inundated, but if you are interested, would you do nanami and 44 for the kiss prompt ask? I think it's tentative kisses in the dark?

Latecomers

Character: Nanami Kento Reader: gender neutral (ambiguous body and presentation, no gendered pronouns) CW: reader is wearing glasses, alcohol (both reader and Nanami were drunk prior to events of fic) Word count: 1560 Prompt: Tentative kisses given in the dark. A/N: After a horribly long break, I am finally pecking at the very old kiss drabbles request. If you're still here, Anon, I'm sorry for the unplanned long wait. I hope you will enjoy this little Nanami treat as much as I enjoyed writing it 🤭

The atmosphere was so dense it could be cut with a knife, and the unsettling environment was just a rather minor cause to blame. With nothing but cold hatred he felt towards the wannabe-suburban train stations, Nanami would still take its whole gamut of nuisances, if only he could face it alone. 

In contrast to the cold and alien station hall, your presence wasn't unpleasant or unwelcome—but the two of you wanted to be somewhere else so badly it was almost written on your faces. What a misfortune, not only you had been assigned a mission in the same area, but also both of you had missed the last train back to Tokyo, ending up stuck all alone for a few hours to come. 

Seated in an appropriate yet painfully close distance, Nanami was staring at the departure board, stubborn, motionless, as if a wrongly paced blink would delay the next train for an extra hour. Hands crossed in his lap, he fiddled with thumbs and fought against the urge to whistle or hum, anything to tune that deaf silence down. You both had attempted to lead a conversation, and both had failed miserably. Words possibly couldn't glue together, and your eyes kept wandering everywhere but each other's paths, what an unbearable pain in the ass. 

Nanami had at least the barrier of his glasses providing him succor, but what he could hide from you, had just been drilling him from inside instead. Whenever his glance grazed over you, the memory of the tangy taste of your lips, pressed against his and followed suit by a brush of your warm, wet tongue, hit him like a jackhammer. Even the dim, industrial lightning around had nearly the same taint as that izakaya you had gathered in to celebrate another week of life. A cheap bar, cheap cigarettes filling the air, cheap sake burning your throats—and hasty kisses exchanged through the stolen minute of solitude, awkwardly, leaving strain in his knees as he had leaned over the short table to reach you. 

Truly a spur of a moment, caving to his repressed yearning, a decision a drunk fool had made with consequences sober he had to face.

"Express train to—" Timeworn speakers barked into tar-like silence and the both of you jerked up and bumped your elbows. Nanami mumbled an apology, barely audible amidst the recording still echoing through the hall, and forced himself to look at you, as sincerity demanded. 

You were hunched-up in your seat, hands rubbing your tight-crossed arms, literally an inch from trembling, no mantle or even a scarf whatsoever. He had noticed you had been dressed a bit too light for a night to spend on railway station, of course he had, but the thought had been pushed at the back of his head as he had squared himself up for a different kind of battle. 

Now shame was burning his ears brighter than embarrassment. He had been sitting there all cozy while you suffered right by his side, within an arm reach.

"Do I look that bad?" You snorted, tad forced, as you eyed him struggling with his jacket. "I'm not freezing, don't—"

"I have a pullover." Nanami, dry as ever, threw himself over your words, and pushed a just stripped mantle into your lap. 

You opened your mouth, ready to battle for your point, but immediately shut it under the weight of his gaze sneaking over his glasses. 

Nanami immediately averted eyes but couldn't cover his ears from you as you, prolonging it awkwardly, cleared your throat, "Hey, lemme at least repay?"

An even dryer response was forcing its way to his lips. Nanami didn't need anything from you, desperately didn't want anything from you, but he couldn't quite bring himself, despite everything, to push you away, "I could use some coffee."

Not until you had got busy with the vending machine at the other side of the hall Nanami let himself take a deeper breath. The low thudding of his pulse drowned all the other sounds: his heart was racing so much he feared it might break free out of his chest and chase after you. He expected as much, the sight of your figure hunched under his jacket could be only powerful beyond imagination, so close and dear, and burning his eyes as you returned closer, with two paper cups in your hands.

"You look quite pale yourself," you tease, unconvincingly with the way your throat squeezed around words. "You sure you don't want your jacket back?"

Wary of the risk of your hands meeting, Nanami took his coffee and muttered a dry thank you. You hunched up again in your seats, the expected express train stopped with a screech somewhere behind your backs, but no one followed the arrival nor the departure. 

The hall remained empty and tense.

Coffee from the vending machine tasted horrible but it was warm and helped keeping lips busy. Nanami sipped on his half-heartedly, focused on easing pulse and breath, against his thoughts racing towards the memories he would gladly already forget. 

What now? What were you going to do with all of this? Should you act as if nothing ever happened? How can you ever act as if nothing ever happened? 

"Nanami—" Your voice caught him off-guard, with a cup right by his lips. His hands budged, some coffee spilled down his chin and dripped on his pullover.

"Ah shit, I'm sorry!" You sprung to your feet as if it indeed was your fault, fumbling with pockets of an unfamiliar jacket, finally seizing a handkerchief out of one. He tried to wipe himself with just a bare hand—but with a surprising resolve you pushed it out the way and dealt with the mess yourself.

"I'm alright," he tried to answer the unspoken question, couldn't bring himself to. The gentle but determined touch of yours left him paralyzed, enchanted, from toes to lips, itching at the faint memory of the kiss you had shared. 

The lamp over your heads flickered and your hand dabbed closer, from his chest to his throat, then his chin. Nanami's breath hitched, audibly, tickled at the tips of your fingers gently drying the last droplets of long-forgotten tasteless coffee. The sensation was familiar, was wrong, so inappropriate, so shameless in its simplicity.

You shouldn't do that to him. 

And he couldn't hold himself any longer.

Through the thin layer of handkerchief Nanami kissed your fingers, from tips to knuckles, and nuzzled his face into your palm. Begging internally for you to slap or punch him, he wandered towards your wrist, breathed the sweet scent of yours he had learnt by heart the day he held you close for the first and only time. He felt your pulse racing under your skin, swallowed its rhythm like starved, latched on this little vibration with his eyes closed, awaiting the inevitable doom and punishment.

The lamp flickered, power whined in cables and died, leaving the both of you in darkness right as your lips finally met again. 

At first you bumped into each other awkwardly, glasses against glasses—the obstacle you tore out of your way almost simultaneously. In contrast to your first kiss, you moved carefully, barely brushing your lips, constantly asking, and never quite answering, and sharing breath in between chaotic breaks.

The unpleasant, chemical taste of coffee seemed to work against you—but as the even worse taste of sake hadn't stopped you back then, you quickly ignored it this time too. Nanami sipped it from you as if your mouth was filled with rose water, gladly swallowing your tongue finally pressing against his. Not until then he had dared to touch you, to pull you closer by the skirts of his own jacket, one hand cradling the back of your head. You snuck fingers into his hair; your nose brushed cute against his as you tilted head to the side, finally losing yourself into the sensation and pulling him into it with you.

The light flickered again, the hum of electronics returned, but you remained linked, catching up on days lost for the awkward dance of adults too skittish to be adult—until sharp fire in lungs forced Nanami to pull away.

With a thin string of saliva still connecting the two of you, you were heavily panting a mere inch away from his face. He felt your moist breath against his skin and already starved to steal it again—but, fighting against himself, he brought the same coffee-stained handkerchief to your lips and dabbed them dry. 

You exhaled through your nose, amused, and repeated his gesture from earlier, peppering his fingers with soft kisses.

"It tasted…horrible," Nanami broke the silence first after you recollected yourselves, words faster than the second thought. "The coffee, I mean."

"The kiss too," you admitted and tossed your cup into the nearest trash can, somehow not spoiling the remaining coffee. "How can they sell this crap to people?"

"I feel I owe you a proper one." Faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips, Nanami dared to scoot closer. You nuzzled towards him too, sharing the much-needed warmth eagerly now. "Once we're back to Tokyo, I'm taking you to a good place."

"It's a date?" The warmth in your voice, the timbre he loved so much, returned, no remaining trace of embarrassment left.

"It's a date. With breakfast."

[otmaaromanovas]

Vera Ignatievna Gedroits - the openly lesbian, first woman professor of surgery in Russia, who worked alongside the Romanovs

Princess Vera Ignatievna Gedroits was a doctor, surgeon, poet, and pioneer of medicine. Vera worked alongside Tsarina Alexandra and Grand Duchesses Olga and Tatiana Nikolaevna, working with the Red Cross to treat injured soldiers during the First World War. 

** content warning for mention of suicide **

Born as a Princess of royal Lithuanian descent in 1870 in Kyiv, Vera is thought to have developed an interest in medicine following the passing of her little brother Sergei during childhood. Vera later wrote under the pen name ‘Sergei Gedroits’ in honour of him. 

In 1892, Vera was arrested for participating in the Populist movement. Freed and undeterred, Vera was adamant to continue her medical studies. An open lesbian, Vera entered into a marriage of convenience with friend Nikolai Belozerov, permitting the obtaining of a new passport to travel, allowing her to pursue her dream of a medical career without the restriction of borders and her previous name being on police records. Despite their marriage being one of convenience, rather that romantic love, Vera and Nikolai were close friends, and stayed in contact through letters.

In 1903, Vera obtained the title of ‘female doctor’, but later that year attempted suicide. Vera’s mental health had declined due to an overwhelming personal family life, the death of her sister, exhausting workload, and breakup of a relationship with a lady in Switzerland. The following year, Vera had recovered, and the outbreak of the Russo-Japanese war led to her working in horse-drawn mobile hospitals. 

Working with wounded patients, Vera took detailed notes which allowed the making of the connection between injuries and the weapon used to inflict them. Interestingly, Vera did not shy away from abdominal operations, which was irregular due to previous thoughts that such injuries were ‘inoperable’. Often, patients with such injuries were refused surgery and were sadly left to pass away.

Following the War, Vera worked provincially, attending to 125,363 patients. This pioneering work was recognised by Tsarina Alexandra Feodorovna in 1909, who invited Vera to take the position of Senior Court Physician. Vera was the first woman to serve as a physician in the Imperial Palace. Vera wrote ‘Conversations on Surgery for Sisters and Doctors’ to help the Palace understand the profession. Vera would eventually write 58 scientific papers. Vera earned a Doctorate of Surgery on May 11 1912, the first woman in the history of the University of Moscow to do so. 

Following the outbreak of the First World War, Vera helped to install physiotherapy equipment and X-ray machines in hospitals to aid recovery. Vera taught Tsarina Alexandra Feodorovna and her daughters, Grand Duchesses Olga and Tatiana, medical work, and they assisted with operations. Vera worked alongside Imperial Physician Dr. Evgeny Botkin to help connect infirmaries to railways and supplies. Vera occasionally travelled to the front lines to help provide surgery directly at the scene, and in one case performed over 30 operations over a three day period. 

Vera is recorded as having little patience for the infamous Grigori Rasputin, with one source recording the shoving of Rasputin ‘into a corridor when he refused to get out’ of the way.

There are no records that suggest that the patients or the Romanovs objected to Vera's sexuality, though there was disapproval of her continuing to remain in Tsarskoe Selo to continue military surgery after the Revolution. If anything, she was renowned as one of the most capable and intelligent women of the era. Vera wore a surgeon's cap rather than the head coverings that nurses and Sisters of Mercy wore.

During the First World War, Vera met fellow nurse Countess Maria Dmitrievna Nirod-Mukhanova, a widowed maid-of-honour at the palace. The pair fell in love and started a relationship, which would last for the rest of Vera’s life. Maria had three children: Dmitri Feodorovich, Marina Feodorovna, and Feodor Feodorovich. The children knew about their mother's relationship with Vera, as they lived as a married couple whilst caring for and raising them. Some sources suggest that Vera and Maria had a marriage ceremony.

By the late 1920s, Vera was living with Maria, who worked as a surgeon, in Kyiv after the couple and Maria’s children escaped Revolution, taking refuge with monks. They spent eighteen years together. The pair lived as a married couple. In 1932, Vera passed away aged 61 after a diagnosis of uterine cancer. Maria continued Vera’s work by operating a pharmacy that provided free medicine to the poor. Maria passed away in 1965 aged 86. The above image is the only photo that has been attributed to her.

Vera defied all the social norms, becoming a pioneer of medicine and challenging traditions within the profession, saving thousands of lives in the process. Vera’s legacy lives on today.

SOURCES:

Hands that bring back to life. Vera Ignatievna Gedroits - surgeon and poet by V.G. Khokhlov

Beinecke Rare Book and Manuscript Library

Wartime albums of Olga Nikolaevna and Tatiana Nikolaevna, Last Romanovs on Flickr

The Princess who Transformed War Medicine - BBC

Princess Vera Gedroits: military surgeon, poet, and author by J.D.C. Bennet

The Diary of Olga Romanov : Royal Witness to the Russian Revolution by Helen Azar

Tatiana Romanov, Daughter of the Last Tsar : Diaries and Letters, 1913-1918 by Helen Azar and Nicholas B.A. Nicholson

[karl-jensen]

CONNOR and CAITLIN — My Headcanons

Since American steam locomotives are a thing in Thomas and Friends, I am quite weirded out with Connor and Caitlin's in-television designs since they are based on American streamliners. The production didn't even look up different streamliners from the United Kingdom and missed out on a handful of interesting trains such as the LNER W1 Hush-Hush, LMS Streamlined Coronation Scot, the P2's and many more. For my headcanons for the two Streamliners of Sir Robert Norramby, I made Connor and Caitlin an LNER P2 (fictional) Prototype and an LMS Coronation class to fit the series' theme of British Steam Locomotives.

Headcanons for Connor

Connor is now an LNER P2, specifically a fictional prototype just like Gordon.

He is now painted Blue to match the color scheme of the A4's and their Coronation liveries. However, Connor's wheels are black instead of red.

Prior to being painted Blue, he was once Green like many of the LNER's engines.

His personality is rather snarky and would often tease anyone as well as rolling stock and humans.

He is numbered 2000 and is named "Lord Connor".

He used to pull the Coronation, a train service from London to Edinburgh.

Connor was the first to be purchased and saved from scrap by Sir Robert Norramby. He would be heartbroken to find that Caitlin wasn't rescued until 1971.

Headcanons for Caitlin

Caitlin is now an LMS Coronation class locomotive.

Her streamlining works as follows: A spare firebox door was specially built for Caitlin and the other Coronations to cover up the smokebox. Whenever their casings are removed, their original smokebox doors are placed back. The face that you see in Caitlin's illustration IS her original smokebox door, while the one inside the casing is the spare one.

Her number is 6249 and is named "City of Sheffield", a real-life locomotive. Caitlin hated that name and would often get called as "Sheff" from many of her colleagues, especially Connor. She would call herself "Caitlin" since it suited her better.

She is quite friendly to everybody, but gets easily irritated whenever someone teases her or hears an annoying sound like screeching.

She once pulled the Coronation Scot, a train service from London to Edinburgh.

Caitlin was rescued from the scrapyard in 1968, months after Connor. She was purchased by Sir Robert Norramby with financial support from Sir Charles Topham Hatt.

She was restored to working order in 1971 where she surprised Connor.

The Edinburgh Incident, 193X

Headcanons in General

Connor and Caitlin's character dynamic in the show is similar to Hercules and Lillie Lightship from Tugs. Both are portrayed as lovers.

Connor first met Caitlin in the 1930's. He tried racing her to Scotland but ran out of water after refusing to scoop up water from a trough along the way. He was scolded by the Stationmaster and was reported to the LNER's head office for his reckless and irresponsible behavior.

During World War II, both engines shared a close relationship. They would often help one another until they became very close like star-crossed lovers.

Both engines were out of service by the 1960's. Connor was the only engine in his class to have never been streamlined, while Caitlin continued her British Railways career without her casing.

Connor fell into a deep depression after he was restored to working order, but he was informed by Sir Topham Hatt and Sir Robert Norramby that they will raise money to save Caitlin from the cutter's torch. His depression ended in 1971 when Caitlin arrived at Tidmouth Station with a passenger train.

Prior to Caitlin's restoration, she was transferred from the scrapyard to Crovan's Gate late at night so that Connor wouldn't see her. Sir Robert wanted to surprise him once Caitlin was restored to working order, but rumors by some engines say that a Coronation Class is in the Island being restored. The crew tried their best in hiding Caitlin by putting her in the shed so that her partner wouldn't see her, and tried their best in hushing up rumors.

The two engines pull special coaches with observation cars, or "Beavertails" as they are called. The TV show did not acknowledge their presence in real life, so I added them to stay true to railway history.

Connor: I'll race ya to Edinburgh, Sheff. See ya in the blink of an eye!

Caitlin: Do NOT call me that, you green goblin! Call me by my preferred name, CAITLIN!

Connor: Alright then, darling. If I reach Edinburgh, I still get to call you 'Sheff'. But if you reach there first, then I shall call you 'Caitlin'. Is it a deal?

Caitlin: It's a big fat damn deal. I'll race ya to Edinburgh!

[zarkishere]

give me your thoughts on the callanders pls

OUGFHHH I WILL !!!

soon (monday lol) the designs i made will be posted with some hcs so im sorry if i repeat some 😭😭

i think they both have naturally VERY LOUD VOICES like Karen constantly tells them to quiet down and they're like " HUH?? IM NOT YELLING--oh. nvm. " - this cuz of the thing Karen says of missing telling the boys to shut up. they yap a lot and they yap LOUDLY when they're home - Davey fights it more i think. like if he's feeling like being annoying he'll talk louder just because fuck you. (it makes Mac laugh too) - Mac's laugh is also just VERY LOUD while Davey wheezes and starts tearing up

they're a bad influence on Sean(?) like Sean is a bit mischievous by himself but together they're a NIGHTMARE because Mac and Davey will literally do whatever the fuck and Sean is like 'i wanna go too!!' - they're not allowed to go on missions alone because Shit Will Happen and they frustrate the hell out of Arthur. - one time Arthur almost had a nervous breakdown trying to get them back home. He'd be dragging one to the horses, be like 'alright, stay here', he leaves to get another, comes back...and whoever was there Is No Longer There (at some point Mac got sober enough he helped with Davey) (Davey said in a very sad drunk voice 'you betrayed me' and Mac's heart broke)

i hc Mac was a little shorter than Arthur Davey is a little shorter than Mac and a lil thinner too (you'll see that tho)

they brawl. give them 5 bucks and they will beat each other up just for funsies (and the money) - they used to defend it by saying they're just practicing - it almost worked. - folk aren't allowed to egg them on anymore. (looking at you, Jenny)

they understand each other in an almost mystical way no one else understands. they'll be in complete opposite sides on a mission and SOMEHOW know what the other is gonna do and how to help - usually they go together, though. you'd never see one without the other.

Davey doesn't remember much of Scotland so when he can't sleep he'll ask Mac to tell him stories of the place and their parents - Davey DOES remember the railway and secretly really likes trains

Davey actually hates cheating (unless Mac is playing, but he only cheats with Mac to fuck with him) - Mac tells him he's cheating when they play poker if he's losing and Davey gives him a silent glare every time

Mac literally keeps literally everything Davey gives him. He once lost a nice rock and was THIS 🤏 CLOSE to start wrecking shit if he didn't find it - it was in the back pocket of a pair of pants he forgot he used the day before - Davey cried laughing at him and Mac got really embarrassed

they argue a lot (like brothers do), but they always end up forgiving each other and patting each other on the back - (really hard, for the record. don't get a pat in the back from them, they'll split your spine in two)

Davey gets really jealous and Mac teases him about it. Like, if Mac happens to spend 'too much time' with Bill or someone else (more than 10 minutes HJKASGJASG), Davey will go over and give a NASTY glare while tapping his foot on the floor with arms crossed. - Mac pretends not to notice at first but usually relents

actually, in general they're a bit too codependent (more Davey than Mac, but they both are) - when they got separated in blackwater they both panicked REALLY BADLY and Davey had to be dragged away because even as he was bleeding out he was kicking and screaming that he couldn't bear the thought that something was happening to Mac and he couldn't help - while Mac was getting tortured by the Pinkertons he asked if Davey was okay and his last few words were him apologizing to Davey for fucking up - Davey's last words were also him apologizing to Mac for being so stupid. the whole ride to Colter he blamed himself for being too reckless and getting them split up

on a happier note i think Davey's love language is words of affection - but they're very passive-aggresive

Mac's love language is gift giving - but he won't tell it was him

[radiaurapple]

Lucid Dreams of New Orleans: Epilogue 1

CHAPTER SUMMARY: IN WHICH everything changes.

FIC SUMMARY: Lucifer has always kept his distance from sinners. It’s what keeps him (relatively) sane — if he gets too close, he is haunted by visions of the tragic mortal lives that landed them in Hell. But in his new life at the Hotel, it is more difficult than ever to stay away — and when it comes to light that his daughter’s insufferable facilities manager is gravely wounded, it falls to Lucifer to deliver his soul from Death. In so doing, he falls headfirst into the sins, past lives, and heartbreaks of the one human whose contradictions he is powerless to resist.

here is epilogue #1!! the next epilogue will be posted in a week, as a separate work in the Lucid Dreams series — see the end notes for more details!!

[AO3 LINK]

Chapter preview below!!

The day begins like any other. Lucifer wakes from his dream of falling in the early hours of morning. Unlike in the years he spent alone, the moments after he wakes are always blissful relief; he burrows into the side of his human, who will remain asleep for hours yet, and breathes deeply. Their room is quiet, the curtains swaying gently in the breeze of the open window. Lucifer is warm, comfortable, and safe. He may be in Hell, but he is home.

He slips out of bed and tiptoes to his workbench. He often whiles away these predawn hours with silly projects. Today he’s working on an LED message board for the lobby — Charlie asked for one to write little messages for the residents. 

He works quietly for some time, accompanied by the chirping of crickets in the bayou and the fuzzy freestyle jazz that sometimes filters through the air around Alastor when he’s dreaming. 

A staccato burst of discordant piano catches Lucifer’s attention. He glances over his shoulder — Alastor is curled in on himself in bed with the faint ghost of a frown etched in his brow. The music is a window into Alastor’s dreams, and this one seems a little stressful. Lucifer puts down his tools, his project forgotten, and crosses back to bed. 

He wriggles under the covers next to Alastor and presses their foreheads together. The shape of Alastor’s soul is easiest to sense when he’s dreaming — Lucifer slows the flow of time until it drips like molasses off a spoon and looks. His human is made up of a constellation of memories; the little glimmering moments drift like a flock of birds, like stars spilled across the sky, like a stroke of sparkling paint. Sometimes it seems that the shape of Alastor is changing, that his soul has come to curve toward Lucifer’s like a comma. Maybe it’s always been this way — a little bendy, like it’s reaching for something.  

Lucifer releases his hold and time rushes forward — he stumbles along with it and steps into Alastor’s dream. 

Visiting Alastor’s soul when he’s dreaming is different from visiting him when he’s awake or completely unconscious. When sinners dream in Hell, their mind draws upon the contents of their soul — their memories of life on Earth. During REM sleep, the memories become a fuzzy patchwork of thoughts and feelings. 

Lucifer opens his eyes in a hazy version of a place that is not quite New Orleans. He’s standing on a train platform that seems to be based on the Southern Railway Terminal off Canal Street. A train is idling on the platform, releasing a plume of steam into the sky. 

Alastor sprints up the stairs at the end of the platform, human and panicked, lugging a cello in a handled case — the train’s brakes screech as it pulls away, and Alastor desperately rushes to catch up with it. They are the only two people on the platform, and Alastor sprints directly toward Lucifer without so much as glancing at him. As Alastor passes, Lucifer catches his arm, gently — Alastor freezes and looks over at Lucifer as though seeing him for the first time. 

“You’re dreaming,” Lucifer says softly. 

[AO3 LINK]

[molkolsdal]

Photograph (albumin print) of a small group of domed grass huts behind a group of 'Pathan' villagers [ie. supposed Pushto speakers]: women in burkas, shirtless men seated and standing, along with various children, sheep, a single very large dog and a calf. They look very like classes of nomads known to the present day.

The most obscure part of the caption text (the second phrase roughly surrounded by a box) may read 'Sindh/Pishin' and may refer to the Sind-Pishin Railway which routes traffic via Quetta to the Afghan border at Chaman close to Kandahar. This railway was certainly in operation in 1885 and possibly earlier. It crosses the Kachh Gandava plain (Kachhi Plain) and that may link this image and the possible railway connection of the second phrase to the last word in the text which seems to be 'Kachh'.

Kachhi Plain, Balochistan, Pakistan, 1880-1895 (?)

[scotianostra]

June 10th 1768 saw construction start on the Forth and Clyde canal, it was to take 22 years to complete.

The building of a canal across Scotland was first discussed during the reign of Charles II. It was not until the mid-1700s that the building of the Forth and Clyde Canal or “The Great Canal” as it was referred to then, became an actual possibility with funding being raised to carry out the work. The canal was to be built across the Central Belt of Scotland from east to west. The first spadeful was dug out in June 10th 1768 and the construction continued for 22 years including a 7 year period when no work was carried out due to lack of funds. It was the Canal Company’s policy to try to recruit locally to provide employment in the areas the canal crossed.

The work was hard and was manual labour with the use of picks and shovels to dig out heavy wet earth. Wages were about 10d (£0.04p) per day and the workers were a tough lot. Discipline was often hard to maintain and drink was cheap and plentiful causing various problems. Theft of tools and other equipment was common and often the workers were seasonal due to also working in the agricultural land surrounding the canal works. None the less the work was done and the canal was dug. Water was first let into the canal in 1773 when it was filled as far as Kirkintilloch, which increased this town’s profile with additional trades appearing in the area. It was 2 years later that the canal opened as far as Stockingfield, Maryhill. A cut was also made towards Glasgow as far as Hamiltonhill and then funds ran short and worked stopped for 7 years.

In 1784 work resumed when the Government of the time approved a loan of £50,000 to the Canal Company, the money coming from the Forfeited Estates Fund (a legacy of the Jacobite Rebellion in 1745) and this allowed the canal to reach Bowling. The Forth and Clyde Canal was opened from the Firth of Forth to the Firth of Clyde in the summer of 1790 with the first boat navigating its channel in August of that year.

The length of the Canal from eastern sea lock to the western sea lock was 35 miles. In 1791 the Glasgow Branch was extended from Hamiltonhill to Port Dundas giving it a length of 3.5 miles. There are 39 locks to navigate on the canal with 20 locks on the eastern section the firth of Forth to Wyndford and 19 on the western section from Maryhill to Bowling on the Firth of Clyde. The canal was crossed by many bascule bridges and made use of aqueducts such as the one over the Luggie at Kirkintilloch and the river Kelvin in Glasgow.

The canal served three main purposes. It allowed seagoing vessels passage from east to west or vice versa, therefore avoiding the long passage around the north of Scotland. It provided the fast movement of goods. Agricultural produce, mineral resources and locally produced goods could be transported more easily across Scotland. It also acted as a way for travellers to move across Scotland using “Swift” boats that linked to coach services.

The Forth and Clyde Canal had an active life into the years of the Second World War though by this time railways were carrying more goods around the country. Trade was slowly falling away though transits through the canal and day tripping continued. Eventually on 1 January 1963 the Forth and Clyde Canal closed to through traffic.

As part of the millennium celebrations in 2000, National Lottery funds were used to regenerate both canals. A boat lifting device, the Falkirk Wheel, was built to connect the Union and Forth & Clyde canals and once more allow boats to travel from the Clyde or Glasgow to Edinburgh, with a new canal connection to the River Carron and hence the River Forth. The Falkirk Wheel opened on 27th May 2002 and is now a tourist attraction. The Helix project, which includes the magnificent Kelpies is also part of this ongoing regeneration.

[warnersister]

Chapter 1 - The Return to Miramar

The Highwayman Series | Prologue | Chapter 2

‘No Entry – Construction (TRANSATLANTIC RAILWAY DUE TO FINISH 1869)’ the sign read and the frontman on his horse creased his brows into a tight and questioning line. “1869? But its 1863.” He said, voice in a questioning tone. “haven’t you heard?” his companion asked “east and west are racing to see who can build the most. Gonna be shut a while” he said matter of factly, while straightening out his mustache from where the Tennessee heat had frazzled it. The former grunted in response “this is our way though” “well were gonna have to go a different way hangman, don’t fancy getting Spitfire killed by a train” the other told him, motioning to the fine mare he was riding on. He nodded “yeah hornets too young for that, rooster you’re right. You know a different way?” hangman asked. Rooster thought for a minute, straightening out his mustache again, already bunching up under the springtime humidity – but this time, more in thought than in maintenance as he turned to look at his surroundings “already crossed Mississippi” he said, remembering when they’d crossed the mighty river – not wishing to back track on that path. “were gonna have to go the whole way round, through missouri – Kansas, take a left at colorado” “could we not go trough Texas?” Hangman asked, thinking of a shorter route they used to traverse a decade prior. Rooster raised his brows “aint Sherrif Simpson still after us?” he asked and his friend shrugged. “Already told the rest of ‘em to meet us in Louisiana and it’ll take weeks, months to get there if not, were good as dead if the Indians aint as hospitable again” there was silence for a minute “plus you’ve got a stache now and I’ve got this sweet bod, he wont recognise us” Hangman said, flexing while Rooster threw his head back and laughed loudly “bod ain’t as good as mine, bagman” Rooster said and the other shook his head “c’mon. Texas it is."

This route was fresh, recognisable but still; new-(ish). There were plenty of structures that were erected since they’d last abided there, especially in the Plains – a substantially belittled number of natives and much more Easterns who you could tell had no business being in Western heat – searching for green grass but getting tumble weeds in lieu. They’d reached their meeting point but a week later, reconsiliating with Coyote and Bob who’d been engaging in business up in the rockies, taking the strongest horses but only returning with one. “Hercules?” Hangman asked and bob shook his head “struggled all the way up, slipped, poor boy couldn’t handle it. Was cryin’ in the night he was. Had’a put him out o’ his misery” the four all bowed their heads and shook them in remembrance for their fallen companion. “damn” rooster said. “Well there's no way the two of ya can manage all the way to New Mexico on Chinook, let alone California” Hangman said. “we passed a ranch on the way down here in northern Texas, town called Miramar” Bob told him as Rooster and Hangman shared a look. “Ain’t that where we nearly got hung?” Rooster asked “sure is Brad.” Hangman thought for a moment “Good mares?” Hangman asked “the best” coyote said “young lady an’all. Mighty fine on the eyes” “guess we’re heading up North.”

The ride was slightly awkward with Coyote and Bob both on one horse, they changed primary rider every hundred or so miles – and it made it easier to travel at night, but still; a man wanted his own horse and Coyote was proud of Chinook, but the horse was starting to weary with some three hundred pounds on his back. But eventually they saw the sign. White lettering and red background, carved so deeply into old mahogany and almost illegible, but it was undeniably so: Miramar. So close you could almost make out Oklahoma, but far enough away and enough Stetsons present to recognise the contrast between what was and what wasn’t Texan territory. “where’s this ranch of yours, Bob?” Jake asked, swallowing harshly as he eyed the infamous town over his sunglasses; Bob pointed straight ahead, and adjacent to the Sheriff’s office, was an unassuming parlour attacked to a decently sized acreage of farm, a good seven or eight horses feeding off their dinner. “alright. Let’s get in and get out.” Jake said, instructing his horse to move forward as he did so. “you guys got history here or something?” Javy asked and rooster snorted “yeah something like that” “what happened?” Bob asked “lets just say he had a thing for the Sherrif’s daughter and he organised to hang him if he didn’t get out of town.” Rooster explained, recalling the events from what seemed like yesterday. Jake cleared his way as a way to get the lot of them to shut up. He still had the ring he was going to give her in his breast pocket.

They drew a lot of attention as they rode through town – strangers clearly dressed in travelling attire. But they were the Highwaymen, not pilgrims. Coyote hopped off the back of Chinook and Bob followed suit, heading to the girl who had their back turned to them, currently attending to a young pony who seemed to refuse to leave the refuge of her stables. “Excuse me, ma’am – any of these horses for sale?” “Uh huh the lot of ‘em” she’d replied, turning to the strangers to greet them as customers. Jake felt like the air had been knocked out of his lungs. “jake?” “hey, petal” he replied, unable to muster anything else as he looked at you, still as mighty fine if not more gorgeous than he day he’d hit the road with rooster. You looked to his left and nodded “Brad” “hey pretty” after the short and unsweetened reunion. “Y’all should get off my ranch. My daddy still has a right mind lynchin’ the two of ya” you say smally, turning to reattend to the horse. “Still?” Rooster asked with a smirk but Jake was taking it more seriously as you nodded your head to the stocks “meaner than the day you left” “sweetheart-“ “I aint talkin to you, Jake” you say and look at your feet “look, my horse passed in the rockies; was hopin’ I could but a new ‘un to get us to California. Got any up for the job?” Bob asked and you looked at him. “Uh, we got a few. Albatros is gorgeous and strong, but I don’t think she’ll last ‘till Cali.” You place your hands on your hips, surverying the pack “Falcon, he’ll get you there but no further.” You say “that there” you point at the strong, pale coloured horse in the back of the field “Lightning. God he can ride, got the strength of Zeus. He’ll get you there, hell he’ll get you through Mexico and back. But he’s my favourite, he’s gonna cost ya” Jake smiled “God he was just a young’un a few years back. My, he's grown” he says, recalling the day he’d gifted you the horse. He’d saved up all his money, didn’t even steal him, brought him all the way from New Mexico. Didn’t even ride him, he walked on foot – made sure the mare had his breaks and god your smile when you accepted him. His hair matched Jakes, so he’d always be there when he wasn’t. “You’re willing to sell him? After all this time?” you finally look at him, pain apparent in your eyes “you left, Seresin” that hurt “you bought him as a reminder. Don’t need no reminder of you, boy” you say “well ‘m here now-“ “exactly.” You cut him off and there is a silence.

“How much for Lightning?” Bob asked after a while. “Make me an offer.”

Prologue | Chapter 2

[railwayhistorical]

Rail Over the Border

Here's a southbound train crossing over the border in Nogales, Arizona into Nogales, Sonora, Mexico. A Border Patrol Agent told me this happens six to eight times a day.

The train rolled up slowly to the gate, which is right in the center of town, it stopped for a few minutes (presumably to change crews, as I had seen vans with drivers waiting), and then continued south at a slow rate. After the last car rolled through, the gate was closed.

The line south out of Tucson is now of the Union Pacific; the line on the other side of the border is Ferromex (which is short for Ferrocarril Mexicano—while that sounds like a national line, it is now a private consortium).

Going back in time, the route here on the US side was originally that of the Atchison, Topeka & Santa Fe (operating under the name of the New Mexico and Arizona Railroad) while the rail line on the Mexican side was originally the Sonora Railway (funded by the ATSF so that they would have access to the port of Guaymas on the Pacific.

Six images by Richard Koenig; taken May 3rd 2024.