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notmykirk · 1 year ago

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Concordia

Description: You scrunch up into a ball as the boar collides with you, its tusks bouncing off your beskar with a terrifying scrape, metalic on metal. You cry out and are thrown across the ground. Your head is spinning as the boar rounds on you again. Mandalorian!Reader, prequel to Nar Shaddaa. Fandom: Star Wars Pairing: Gen Word Count: 2.4k+ Warning(s): Violence.

At the edge of Mandalorian space, a war rages amongst the stars.

You are reminded of this occasionally, when Mandalore and its sun dip below the broken mountain peaks of the Bladeback Palisades. The stars of so many distant worlds, for those few precious minutes that they exist in yours, blink down at you, and suddenly you are reminded of the vastness of the galaxy and all its fears and strife and tragedy.

In a single hour, however, Concordia’s brief night fades and with it, the stars blur, then disappear altogether once twilight returns. All that exists after that witching hour is the ground beneath your feet, the smell of raw beskar, and the distant threat of New Mandalore as it rises once more over the horizon.

And life goes on--mundane on the grand scale of Kad Ha’rangir’s palm.

***

Concordia is a harsh mix of barren cliffs, evidence of the brazen strip mining that had once taken place on the moon, and dense forests of dry, coniferous trees. The ground cover is bare, but growing back, and every creature that roams the surface steps lightly. The life on this moon is tough, and like a Mandalorian, it fights to survive. Every year you are one step closer to your ancestral homeland as the moon recovers its ecosystem bit by bit.

This is all thanks to the conservation efforts pushed forward by Pre Vizsla and Duchess Satine. They are stewards--and this type of change, you welcome with open arms. This is one thing all Mandalorians can agree on: wars are synonymous with the destruction of planets.

You barely notice the weight of the ballistic rifle in your hands as you steady it, elbows braced on the ground as you lay at the edge of the cliff beside your Alor. Your gloved thumb ghosts over the engraved metal without complex thought as you peer down the scope, searching the endless landscape for movement.

The vegetation in the valleys below is a dark grey-green under the soft light reflecting off the face of Mandalore. Rarely does Concordia receive direct sunlight, and so the moon is blanketed with this quiet, everlasting twilight that visitors are so enchanted by, but you’ve grown used to.

There is no shade, nowhere to hide. The light is flat, almost wraps around objects so their shadows are soft and thin, and it is silent except for the faint breeze carding through the shrubs and twisted trees. You lay flat on the ground, back bent at an angle due to the thickness of your breastplate. Beside you, your Alor shifts on her stomach, pulls her hands back to wipe a smudge off her binoculars, then returns to her original position and stills.

Another five minutes pass in silence. Your nose itches inside your helmet, and you scrunch your face, then bite your tongue, struggling to ignore that annoyance.

In that moment of distraction, your Alor exhales sharply, and your focus is immediately honed back to the edge of a knife. “There, five klicks out, two towards the ridgeline, by the tree with the broken top.”

You blink, then pan your rifle to the right and catch the target in your sights--a family of Bladeback boars. You feel for the knob on the side of the scope, then zoom in close enough so you see the tan of their fur, the black tusks protruding from their snouts and the grey of their eyes. Some have the pale markings of adolescence, others are older and more refined. You follow a piglet with your scope as it struts after its mother, bumping into her legs.

They are huddled around a dingy puddle, bowing their heads and sticking their long tongues out to drink the muddy water. You frown. That water is probably poisoned. Any runoff in this area is soiled by the mining operation on the mountains above.

Your Alor pushes herself up with a grunt that betrays her age. “Do you have a clear shot?”

“For which one?”

“The largest.”

You pan your rifle over the group in search of a decent target, then pull the trigger easily in answer to her question. The pop of your rifle is deafening, and the sound rolls down the canyon walls and shakes the trees so a group of black birds take to the skies in fright.

The weapon is ancient and traditional, and its ballistic nature sends it slamming back into your shoulder in recoil. You grunt when the scope of your rifle knocks against the face of your helmet, and flinch, embarrassment hot across your face at the blunder, then regard the target through your scope, bucking and running from you, with the tracking bullet lodged in its shoulder. A ribbon of blood spills from the wound.

She gives you a hard stare, then says plainly, “Well done.” Though you find it difficult to swallow down your anxiety, you grip the rifle and nod. The sudden tilt of her helmet suggests she wants to say more when she is interrupted by the distant roar of a sublight engine entering the atmosphere.

You can’t help but wonder if it’s yet another government official from Mandalore Prime coming to step on Concordia’s toes. Governor Visla does a good job keeping the new government at bay, using politics to push Condordia’s agenda without inviting the tourism upper-class Mandalorians seem so convinced they are entitled to, but there are always a few beetles who fall through the cracks.

You see the ship now as it jets overhead and frown. It is definitely from Mandalore.

Those Mandalorians wealthy enough to make it off-world don’t appreciate land for what it is, something that you belong to more than it could ever be useful or beautiful. They come to poke around your nature reserves, to admire the flora without knowing their names and to prove themselves ignorant of the life that inhabits the valleys and mountains kept watch over by House Viszla’s halls.

Mandalore is destroyed. It is barren and empty except for their massive city cubes. Those from Mandalore Prime did that to themselves, and once they finished destroying their planet, they tried to tear Concordia down from its sky alongside it--and they are still trying, whispering that Concordia’s massive and sprawling mines should not remain cold--as if they have any need for Beskar when they no longer wear armor.

No, Mandalore is weak. It is cursed along with anyone who steps foot on it. It is a ghost above your head, a grim reminder of the past and present and its future as well. It is wreckage and ruin and trying its best to spread its wasting disease to your home.

Your Alor sighs heavily, and you both turn back to regard the boars. They are gone from sight, though the tracking beacon on your Alor’s hip hints at their direction. The two of you stand and descend the cliff.

***

The digital interface of your helmet handles the dark easily, automatically adjusting its shading to your preferred light and contrast levels. Branches scrape across the dome of your helmet as you begin to pick your way across the forest floor. The ground here is treacherously soft, needles forming a springy carpet around jagged boulders and rocks–discarded from various mining operations, then washed down from the mountains during the month of rain.

You follow your Alor across the rough terrain as she leads you through the dark, nervousness beginning to eat at your stomach and numb the tips of your fingers. You do not pay attention to where you are being led, and instead stare at the ground and count your footsteps in pairs of two.

Slowly, your Alor draws to a standstill and kneels behind the trunk of a sickly tree. You freeze and crouch behind her.

She reaches a hand up to brush a branch out of the way, and sure enough, there is the boar you shot with the tracker, its shoulder wet and stained black, though no longer bleeding as badly as it had been when you last saw it.

On level ground you can truly realize the size of Bladeback Boars–they are larger than you or even your Alor by at least a foot, though this one does not have as much meat as it should. Its bones are like a tanning rack and its patchy hide hangs loosely off them.

You watch silently, your stomach twisting in knots, as your Alor pulls the folded spear from behind her jetpack, then expands it with a flick of her wrist, the beskar ringing dully–the sharpened tip glowing in the twilight.

The boars head flicks towards the two of you, its small, red eyes instantly suspicious and scanning the treeline.

When your Alor turns and holds the spear out for you to take, you trade it in silently for the rifle on your back, then force yourself with all the confidence you possess to stand and approach the boar in the open.

You were, in theory, prepared for what comes next.

The electric crackle of the tracking bullet shocking the boar–the hoarse squeals and subsequent furious red glare–these are all things you’ve seen before, just never with the spear in your own hands.

The beast’s eyes are beady, furious, not those of an animal meant to be hunted. It huffs out heavy lungfuls of steam, scraping the ground with its front toes. Its three, long tusks sway dangerously, their points almost glint in the light, sharper than the spear’s.

You tighten your grip on your weapon and stand your ground. This is what it is to be Mandalorian, because to fight is to be alive. Through struggle you can embrace life.

Another cruel shock is delivered by your alor from her vambrance, and the Boar squeals with rage, then charges you. Concordia all but melts away.

Something rushes over you, takes away your agency. You no longer have a name or identity, a body of your own. You are solely an instrument with a task, with The Way, and your heart beats in time with the hoof beats of the boar as it charges.

The first parry makes your stomach drop. You underestimated the strength of the boar–its shaggy appearance by no means matching its strength. The tip of one of the boar’s tusks scrapes across your chestplate, chipping the paint down to sparking metal, shoving you backwards. It shakes your confidence, and that sudden cold shock of fear clears the calm fog in your head.

***

New Mandalore is a pale yellow-white disc in the sky, shrouded in Concordia’s twilight and they have forsaken Kad Ha’rangir and they have forsaken their foreclans–everything that those ancestors learned and achieved in the hopes that those who follow might one day lead Mandalore towards the future. They have shed their armor and with it their past. They have no Way, no Truth, no Honor or Vision–

Even without the open secret of Concordia’s involvment with Death Watch and Pre Viszla’s hand in guiding those true Mandalorians still left back to The Way, you still despise that disc in the sky and–

***

You are hit on the floor. The spear rolls out of reach. The boar charges.

“Buir!” you squeak. “Mom, help me!”

“Stand your ground.” An order is barked.

You scrunch up into a ball as the boar collides with you, its tusks bouncing off your beskar with a terrifying scrape, metalic on metal. You cry out and are thrown across the ground. Your head is spinning as the boar rounds on you again.

Fear drains like color from your face; hot and cold and debilitating.

There are no thoughts left in your head.

You push yourself up to your feet. The spear is still too far away. The boar charges once more and its tusks nearly graze your chestpiece, then you quickly sidestep and squeeze your fist so the vibroblade hidden in your vambrace ignites into angry, solid plasma.

You plant your foot, then carry your momentum through with a quick jab into the boar’s side. The followthrough of your strike is so vicious that your fist itself collides with the boar’s tough hide.

With another piercing squeal, the boar’s momentum carries it another couple steps before it tips over and collapses onto the forest floor, needles and dust sent flying through the air at the impact.

You stare at the dead animal, shivering so badly your knees give out and you collapse onto the ground, unable to unclench the fist igniting your hidden vibroblade. You bury your hands into the soft groundcover, and the acrid smell of burning vegetation makes its way through your helmet’s air filters as you continue to shake. Steam lifts from the forest floor as the blade burns a hole into the ground.

“Ad’ika,” your mother rumbles, “you did well.”

She approaches the boar, pressing her palm to its fatal wound, then she moves to kneel in front of you. She glances down at your shaking hands, then cups the concave cheek of your helmet and lowers her forehead to yours in a kedalbe.

You squeeze your eyes shut and let out a shaky breath, thankful that she cannot see your tears. You bow your head, though danger still runs through your veins, and attempt to speak.

“Thank you.” you croak, voice cracked and hoarse.

The moment is broken when a number of ships lift off from over the cliff where the Kantorek Mine sits just behind you, abandoned at face value, known to those on Concordia as the comfortable staging area of Death Watch.

There is an explosion, blaster bolts are sent flying into the sky, and then the final ship takes off. The boar is still bleeding just feet from where you are knelt.

You and your Alor share a look before she stands, her armor illuminated with the blue glow of a dozen ships’ sublight engines. They rapidly ascend from the atmosphere, Death Watch leaving Concordia without warning.

Something has happened.

“Come,” your Alor says, her voice cutting clear through your muddied head.

You pry your fingers from their fist, your vibroblade retracting into your vambrace, then push yourself up onto your feet.

New Mandalore is still a pale disc above your head, watching with a vacant, hollow glare.

You can feel it, all around you, just at the edges of Mandalorian space the Clone Wars rage. Concordia is a weed that grows through a crack in a courtyard, but you can’t help but wonder if once more, New Mandalore has brought ruin to your doorstep.

Masterlist | Posting Schedule

#sw #tcw #sw imagine #tcw imagine #captain rex x reader #rex x reader #captain rex imagine #rex imagine #tcw x reader #sw x reader #star wars

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trapperisbestboi · 2 years ago

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The Stubborn Narrator™

A MenWritingWomen parody

Chapter 1

This is the story of a man named John.

John worked in a coffee shop.

His job was simple: he stood behind the counter and he pushed buttons on a coffee machine.

Orders came to him through notes left by the waitresses on the counter telling him what buttons to push, how long to push them, and in what order.

John liked his job before, but since the pandemic precautions had to be taken and they made his work unbearable.

He was trapped behind that cold and lonely counter, he couldn't chat with the clients as they were allowed to stay at the tables outside exclusively and the face of the gorgeous young students working as waitresses were to be covered with hideous handkerchief-like masks.

The days had become monotonous, lonely and boring.

He had even tried to call back a few exes, in the hope of at least scratching a certain "itch" at least, but none were willing to risk their health for a couple of rides.

Such is the mistery of women.

They ask for handsome young men, with a humongous butternut squash and abs like King Bowser's carapace...but won't get close in fear of a simple flu.

And yet they should all thank the Lord just for being acknowledged by such an Apollonian beauty.

His skin was of the same colour as an F4 coffee that was smooth like silk, his eyes were like Italy roast beans, his lips soft and plump like pandoro and his voice was deep and powerful like thunder. His curly hair were the colour of the Hershey's Cookies & Chocolate bar and they flowed down like a natural frame around his clavicles.

Alas, what good is a Cupid without a Psyche?

Luckily one day, something unexpected happened.

Something that would forever change John;

Something he would never quite forget.

He came in an hour before the opening hours to prepare the supplies like he did everyday.

While he was putting the glasses in their place, Taylor Swift's Shake it off started blasting at full volume.

John tripped but managed to not break anything and answered his phone.

It was his boss, warning him about a new waitress starting that morning.

John thanked him with a smile, even though he couldn't see him anyway and ended the call before swearing at him.

J : "That dumbass couldn't just send a message like everyone else? And who cares, I probably wouldn't have noticed anyways!"

The rest of the hour passed with no other inconveniences.

The waitresses arrived and the day started like usual.

Around midday a loud crash was heard nor far from the café accompanied by a couple of curses and a young woman came running in the shop accompanied by the sound of her ass cheeks clapping.

Her skin was of the same colour as hazelnut ice-cream, her eyes were like smurf gummies, her lips thins and glossy and her voice was soft and clear like water slime. Her straight hair were the colour as the muzzle of newborn piglets and were pulled up in an adorably messy tall braid. She wore a purple sundress short and translucent enough to feed the imagination, but covering the amount needed to leave you hungry. She obviously wasn't used to run as could be vouched by her wide, round hips and the two huge pastry puffs hanging on her chest that moved in perfect harmony with her lungs that were trying desperately to recover.

M : "I...I'm sorry, there was a...a protest at the bus station and it wa...it was really far so I had to come with the...the bike..."

J : "It's ok...you're the new waitress right? Do you need to sit down?"

M : "Yh-heah"

The woman took the nearest chair and fell on it like the apple on Newton making her watermelons jump like a cat surprised by a cucumber.

M : "Hi...I'm-John?!"

The Venus accidentally said his name instead of hers, what an endearing silly rabbit.

J : "Do we know each other?"

She lowered her mask showing a smug smile under her tiny freckled nose.

J : "MARIE EFFING SMITH???

The flat, skinny idiot that was always late and constantly picked up fight with the buffest people in the gym that I had to rescue constantly??"

Marie got up and stood in the sassiest pose possible.

M : "One I'm not an idiot, if it wasn't for ME you'd still be in elementary school buster!

Two I was only picking up fight with them so you could show off in front of da girlz.

I will not address the rest."

Am I doing this correctly?

Feel free to give constructive criticism.

List of chapters + plot in link below

https://www.tumblr.com/trapperisbestboi/692758068194377728/i-think-by-now-we-all-know-the-literary-horror

#men writing women #the stanley parable #fatphobic #fatphobia #cisnormativity #heteronormativity #amatonormativity #misgendering cw #tw misgendering #trans mtf #Trans #lgbtqia #nonbinary writer #trans writers #tumblr polls #chooseadventure #The Stubborn Narrator™

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bpd-shuichi-togo · 2 years ago

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reclaiming him like a slur because he makes me really sad

#error.jpg #doodlebob #recovering piglet #he sucks he's so so dear to me.... i lost my pick for like 20 minutes earlier today it was a humbling experience

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ghost-tripitaka-au · 1 year ago

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Mathias: we just got to hit him and he will recover-

Pigsy: So we just bonk him on his dumb head right? Seems easy enough-

Wukong: What’d you say, PIGLET?!

Pigsy: Piglet?! OHO THAT’S IT!

Tripitaka: Great…this again…

Wukong: Master just say the word and this little piggy will be a steamed Ham…

Tripitaka: Again with the killing of Zhu Bajie! Can you please go through with life without murder? Please?

#lego monkie kid #lmk #lmk au #lmk sun wukong #lmk swk #lmk monkey king #lmk tripitaka #lmk wukong #lmk pigsy

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jodilin65 · 23 years ago

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FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 28, 2001 I’ve been so busy that I haven’t written. Here’s a quick update as to what’s been going on.

His ma’s computer’s broken, so he brought it home to work on and Mary made me another CD.

Tom built a bigger cage for the pigs. Of course, I still don’t know how many I’ll be keeping. It’s a little hard to tell yet, but Tom said that if we’ve got two girls and two boys, he wants to make another cage like the one he made last night. Since they don’t sell bases, he went out and bought the biggest Tupperware container he could find. The extra bars wouldn’t fit into it, even though we bent them a bit. So instead, he cut the wire we were going to use to make mice cages to fit into the base. Because it’s barely a foot tall, we use the lid as a roof. This acts as sort of a burrow for them, yet when I take the lid off it’s a more open cage that lets you see the pigs better. I don’t want them to be able to burrow down too well because then they may end up being too timid when exposed. Anyway, the cage sits on the rats’ cage stand by where the rats are.

The reason I decided not to use the wire for the mice is that the mice really make a mess! They piss and shit all over the wires and it’d be a bitch to clean.

Still haven’t received my dental trays in the mail. Hopefully, I will today or else I’ll have to call them.

I’ve been scanning in my hand-written journals, but only the pages that stand out in some kind of special way. I’m capturing the different handwritings, different ink colors, different page designs, etc. After I scan all the pages I want to scan (some I only scan one or even no pages from) I gut them by tearing out all its pages for Tom to torch. I’m keeping the covers, though. This way I won’t have anything tangible. All my writing will not only be in electronic format, it’ll be decrypted, so that if it ever is stolen, it’ll be nothing but gibberish to whoever stole it. Fortunately, I have a great memory, so if everything were stolen right now and never recovered, I could rewrite my life’s story in a consolidated form. Something I’m going to do anyway.

MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 24, 2001 Today’s brought me my permanent retainers and 3 little piglets!

I forced myself to stay up 18 hours yesterday, till 5:30 PM. Then just 6 hours later, I woke up at 10:00. I was so pissed and so sure I wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep (my appointment wasn’t till 1:00). I did, though, and didn’t get up till 7:00. Shortly afterward I discovered the babies. I predicted there’d be 3 of them too, just by how big she was. Two of them are all black, and one has one white foot and one that’s got a band of brown and a band of white. It’s really cool-looking.

Our plan is to see if we can find another base just like the rats have and use the other set of bars to make a second big wire cage for them. I don’t know if I’ll keep all of them. I offered one to Mary, who just lost her dwarf hamster. I emailed her some pictures I took.

The dentist was compliment city, saying I looked pretty today, and why didn’t she notice my long curly eyelashes before? I told her I probably didn’t have them darkened in with mascara before. “No braids today?” she said, then she told me she began scratching her scalp rigorously and taking multi-vitamins like I suggested for speeding up the hair growth, and she said that already her hair feels “fuller.” I had to laugh at that one. Then she noticed my unusual eye color, saying they looked blue one minute and green the next.

Anyway, they put the retainers in and I’m already used to them. They never made me talk funny like the others did. It’ll be great not having to take these out and clean them. Regular retainers are a bitch. I love not having them stuck to the roof of my mouth and how they don’t show. No one would know I was wearing them.

They only go across the I-teeth. That’s all you need, I guess. The molars tend to stay put, but incisors shift easily.

Although she gave me the fluoride and whitening gels to take home, I didn’t get my trays today. That’s cuz the idiots broke them in transit, so they had to take a new set of impressions. She said she’ll get them in the mail to me tomorrow.

In other good news, we got a new burner, and in about a month when we get the satellite, I should be cranking out CDs! Who’d have ever thought years ago that you could just forget about going to record stores and just download whatever song you wanted online for free and make your own CDs?!

According to Tom, the people at Dan’s place are acting as I predicted, blasting music through open windows to let us know “they have arrived.” They exist. At least it was oldies. This was while I was asleep. He said it was loud enough to tell what song it was when the AC wasn’t running, but when it was, he couldn’t hear it. I’m sure I could’ve heard it well enough in the house had I been up. I expect they’ll probably do this most weekends till it gets really hot again. Our weather’s beginning to cool down, but it still gets pretty hot in the daytime.

Tom installed a cool word game on my computer. It’s kind of like Yahtzee. I beat him all the time, too.

WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 19, 2001 I decided I’m finally ready, for once and for all, to shed this extra bulk. I’m 120 pounds. I’d like to be 100 pounds, but I’ll settle for 105 pounds. This is what I’ve decided to do about it this time around. I’m going to have a 1000-calorie diet until I hit 115, where it starts getting really hard. Then I’m going to cut it down to 800 calories till I hit 110, then I’m going to starve off another 5-10 pounds. If the 800-calorie thing works well enough, then maybe I won’t have to, but we’ll see once I hit 110. In order to maintain this, I’m going to have 1400 calories a day. At least I think I can maintain it at that. I may have to drop one or two hundred calories, though. Meanwhile, while I’m losing the weight, I’m going to jog for 20 minutes after each thing I eat and rotate every other day between upper and lower body workouts. Once in the maintain status, I’ll jog once a day for 20 minutes but will keep up with the upper/lower body workout rotations. Except for a chocolate malt after next Monday’s appointment, I won’t allow myself weekly treats till the weight’s off, but even then, I think I might go more with biweekly treats. Once my dentist and therapy appointments are done, I should only have to go out twice a month (going out tempts me to stop for treats) to report to Scot. That’s when I’ll get myself candy or ice cream.

Later…

I didn’t get any mail from Mary today. I wonder if she’s having another case of writer’s block.

Tom stopped at Mary’s, and just like she said she would, she had a music CD for me. A data one, though, not audio.

I’m down to 119 pounds and starving. I am soooo hungry!

I saw a movie based on a true story that made me hate pigs, lawyers, judges and everyone in the “system” even more. And I thought I couldn’t possibly hate them anymore than I already do! This case of people that got fucked over makes mine seem like a joke in comparison. This woman wanted custody of her two granddaughters. In order to get her way, she accused her granddaughter’s parents, as well as a couple they were best friends with, of child molestation. As are the ways of the system nowadays, the kids were immediately taken away and the two couples were thrown in jail. The kids were threatened and bribed into saying that the parents did these things when in fact they did not. The parents ended up in prison for a decade while the kids played musical foster homes. The kids were already grown by the time the adults were set free.

The public defender and the black pig have to have kids. God gives kids to people like that like he inflicts AIDS, pain and suffering upon gays. Wouldn’t it be nice to accuse them of child abuse or molestation and ruin their lives for a good decade or so?

But they all protect their own. It’s nearly impossible to bring down anyone within the system. They’d just laugh at the allegation and say, “You’re a cop or a lawyer. You’re incorruptible and invincible.”

Maybe I should’ve become a cop or gotten a job somewhere within the courts, so I could be protected by freeloaders like what we lived with for 3 years in Phoenix and nearly 2 in Maricopa, and from pigs like Mr. Biased, who were biased all right. Biased against whites.

If I suddenly wanted a kid all over again and could conceive at the snap of my fingers, I’d never bring a kid into this fucked up world. A classmate of the kid could tell its mother to accuse me of molesting the kid out of spite and I could lose the kid forever. It takes so little to lose so much and to have your whole life turned upside down, while it can take years and years to build a life in the first place.

Frosty’s turned out to be the coolest mouse. He’s the first mouse to ever take food right out of my hand.

There are 19 babies and more on the way. So far, most of the babies are white. A few have markings and a few are dark brown.

Tom said not to get my hopes up (I never do) but Monday he’s going to call about a computer programming job where you work from home, but I don’t see it. I don’t vibe it, I mean. Perhaps this is a good thing because I might feel smothered if he’s at home all the time. Then again, I could never feel as smothered as I did in jail!

Today I’m 118 pounds.

I’m not sure how much longer I’m going to keep up this letter writing to Paula. I never hear from her. I’ve only heard from her once since I got out of jail, and that’s not fair. I’m spending a fortune on stamps for someone who could be dead or in jail herself, for all I know.

MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 17, 2001 It’s Monday, Bear. You in M? I miss you! I love you! I lust you! I want you!

Meanwhile, my dentist appointment went quicker than I thought it would and I’m stuck with these damn retainers for another week. That’s cuz they do it differently now. All they did today was make impressions to which they’re going to mold the wires. Next Monday they’ll put the wires on and have my trays ready for me so I can do my fluoride and bleach treatments. See? I pitch one appointment only to make another! Anyway, she says I need to do the fluoride treatment for 15 minutes every night forever, and the bleaching treatment for an hour for 2-3 weeks, then if I want to touch them up periodically, I can.

I’m going to flip my schedule around and hope the freeloaders don’t wake me up by having Scot come out here. I think this week or next he will, though, but if I’m too tired to get out of bed, then tough shit!

I’ve been bouncing the mice around like Palma bounced me around. I put 4 of the 7 males in with the pig, then I decided to put them all in the wire cage while I was up to watch to see if any of the more scrawny ones squeezed their way out. So far no one has.

Mary called to find out about the appointment and to let me know she was burning more songs for me (in data format). I let her know she didn’t have to do that because I wouldn’t mind doing it or waiting till we get the satellite and burner to do so (we should have it in about a month), but she said she didn’t mind and that she wanted some of the songs for herself, too.

I’m current as far as typing Mary G’s stuff, but tomorrow, after he goes to the PO, I’m sure I’ll have a new batch of drafts. Hopefully her reaction and input on my Teddy Bear romance, too. I can’t wait to hear what she thinks.

SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 16, 2001 We caught the mouse and freed it. I caught it, actually, and he freed it when he went out to do the grocery shopping.

I decided to do something different with the other mice. I took the wire cage, and this time, I put mice I knew were too big to escape through its bars. The three brown men, as I call them, are occupying that cage now. Then, I took the smallest plastic cage and put two gray and white mice in it and put it on the den table. In my office, in a medium-sized plastic cage, I have a white mouse and a dark brown one. I just wish they didn’t stink so bad!

Another thing Scot asked me as he was going through my little list of “special conditions” was if my payments were up to date, meaning, as he put it, the $40 processing fee. Now just what the hell do they need to “process” every single fucking month that could possibly cost them that much? It’s total extortion money. That’s all it is.

SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 15, 2001 The rat is on the loose again, but he has yet to visit me in here. I think he’s down at the other end of the house.

As sick and as unfair as all this was/is, I’d be one bored puppy if it weren’t for those freeloaders. All I’d have to do is condense my journals and scan the signs in. But on top of that, I have a story to write/edit, a friend like Mary and her story to write/edit, and a Teddy Bear to look forward to.

I’m not sure yet if I’ll proofread Teddy Bear’s copy after I proofread/edit it to be the way I want it to be for me or wait till I see her. There’s still always that chance, as slim as it may be, that I never see her again. I’d hate to go through all the work for nothing. I’m not even going to bother getting other DO’s letters done up beforehand. I’ll wait till she verifies that Palma, for example, is still even working there before I type them up. If I don’t hear from her, then I’ll go ahead and launch letters to Palma, Pérez and Espi. On the other hand, although it wouldn’t matter with the letters, if I have Teddy Bear’s copy of the jail saga done around the time we meet, she won’t have to wait as long for it if I decide to give it to her sooner than planned, depending on how we get on together, what happens, and how eager she is to read it.

The question is – what crisis is God going to sic on me after this one fades away and my current list of projects starts to dwindle? Why must the shit hit the fan in order for me to have more adventures/experiences/tasks?

God, this GP stinks! Even so, I had to go get her. She’s been wailing for attention all night, so I locked the rat down and brought her out. She’s sitting on my lap now. Something rats, who are very animated and hyper, would never do.

After I’ve slept I gotta get down into the vent, pull up my disks and make a backup. I decided that the 1st and 15th of every month are when I’ll do this.

Tom said there was a bomb threat downtown and that a lot of people there were evacuated. Damn! When does it ever end? Not even all flights have taken off again yet.

FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 14, 2001 Another Apple Cheeks day, although this time I went to him. Since he came to the house so early in the month, I wouldn’t be surprised if he came again at the end of the month. Next week or the week after.

He made the comment about all the special conditions being done except for seeing Helen. “It’s hard to believe,” I said.

“I told you it wouldn’t be so bad,” he said.

No, he didn’t. At least he never said any such thing that I can remember of. Anyway, I guess that looking back, I’d say it wasn’t so bad. At first, though, I felt a bit overwhelmed. When you suddenly have 3 appointments a week and hundreds of bottles sitting in front of you after sitting in a jail cell for so long, it’s a shock to the system.

But in the end, I didn’t mind doing the bottles. Now all I have to do is pay a ludicrous $40 a month, report twice a month, piss about 6 more times for these people, and have Scot invade my home and maybe my sleep too, once or twice a month. I should have about 50 more times I have to report to him and about 24 more times that he’ll report to me. I doubt I’ll ever have to report less than twice a month. Not in this harsh, strict state. I think, though, he won’t bother coming to the house as much in the very end. In other words, I doubt he’ll come to the house in October of ’03, but you never know. I didn’t think they’d throw someone in jail for half a year for something they wrote, so anything’s possible.

Teddy Bear, that is Teddy Bear the GP, is feeling more and more comfortable with me, wanting to come out more often. She’s going to drop them babes any sec! By the end of the month at the latest. She not only goes off when I open the refrigerator but sometimes just walking into the room is enough to set her off. She goes off every time I open the rat’s door, too.

Tom used chicken wire to block his office door the way he blocked my office door and the bedroom door while I was away so that Little Buddy could run around a little longer and a little more freely. However, he got to be quite a handful, so I locked him down. He mainly concentrated on my office. Especially cuz it’s new territory to explore and cuz I was hanging out in there. Although it’s a rat’s instinct not to chew wires cuz they can sense the danger involved, there are still too many wires for comfort in here, and he’s a little too infatuated with the idea of chewing on Giselle’s stockings. I could move her, though.

Now that I did it, I’m proud of myself and I feel better, but I had to really talk myself into doing that workout. I was like – why bother? It doesn’t change my appearance. Working out is for those who are either immensely overweight and out of shape, or who are young, thin and not eating much. That way you could really see the muscle you built up, rather than just feel it.

I look forward to condensing my journals into an after-the-fact book, but I haven’t decided whether or not I’m going to do multiple little books or one big book. I may break it down by subjects. I could have the Estrella saga, the freeloader saga (although that’s kind of tied into the Estrella saga), the Springfield saga, the childhood saga, etc. I just wish the Teddy Bear saga would play out a little more. I’m just so curious to see where it goes, although I think I have a damn good idea as to where it’s headed. Either that or I have a damn good case of wishful thinking! But the Teddy Bear saga’s on pause right now, just like my home life was while I was in jail.

Another mouse has been spotted in the house and heard in the vents. Tom saw it before he went to work this morning shortly after I crashed. At 8:30 this morning I awoke to a sound that I immediately thought was a mouse in the vent due to the sound of tin foil crinkling. So, once again I have the trap set up. I haven’t heard or trapped it yet, which leads me to believe it may’ve gotten out of the house and out of the vents altogether.

Later…

I can’t stop shitting! That’s 5 times I’ve shit today. 5 fucking times! I’ve never shit this much in one day without something being seriously wrong with my stomach, and it’s usually all runny when I do. I used to be stuck all the time, but now I’m a regular little shitaholic!

Now for one of the freakiest events ever. This one’s just as freaky as the resurrected cockroach that I knew was dead when it came out of a community service bottle I had just picked up.

I decided to get rid of a rather dull mouse by flushing it down the toilet. I saw it go down the toilet. I know it went down the toilet. I flushed it a couple more times afterward, too. There’s no way it could’ve survived. I flushed one down a few weeks ago, and believe me, it didn’t come back. When I first approached the toilet a few hours later to do what I hoped was my final dump, I know the toilet was empty and that I’d have noticed if it weren’t. Anyway, I had been sitting on the toilet for a few minutes when I heard a plop. I was like – what the hell? Ain’t no shit falling from me yet! I stood up and sure enough, there was the mouse struggling to jump out. At that point, I decided it just wasn’t its time to go and I returned it to its home with its roommates.

THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 13, 2001 I miss my Teddy Bear sooooo much! How I wish I could know what the future really holds for us and I just wish she wasn’t so far into the future still! So many things could happen. She could find a girl she falls madly in love with and be living with her come next May. She could decide I’m too far away to bother with. Maybe I’ll see her occasionally. Or maybe we’ll get together every week or so and make wild, passionate love like I’ve never experienced before. Nah, there’d be some kind of problem with the sex. There always is. The only difference would be that I’d be attracted to this one like no others in the past. It’s not that Tom, Brenda, Kacey, or Ann Marie were ugly. There was just no sexual spark in the way that there is with Teddy Bear. You know when you’re attracted to someone just like you know when you’re in love with someone. Although Palma diverted my attention away from Teddy Bear for a while during the first couple of months I was in jail, I was always turned on by her and I knew it right away. I wonder if I’d be so self-conscious in bed with her, due to my lust for her, that I felt like a fumbling fool, not knowing what to do, unsure of myself, etc.

The only thing I’m sure of is that I’ll no doubt be more into her than she’ll be into me and that she won’t be urging me to leave Tom to go live with her. Again, I have no desire to leave Tom, but it’s really quite frustrating to have finally met a woman I’m attracted to that I really like and that likes me back, after getting married. Why couldn’t we have met before I got married? On the other hand, as easy as it is for me to say I’d be happy with her, would I really be? Would she accept me the way Tom has? Or would she push me to work and keep a schedule? I don’t know. I just can’t see her going for that breadwinner/homemaker thing.

I asked myself a question, just to be honest with myself, pertaining to whether or not I’d leave Tom for her, and this time I got a different answer than “no way.” This time the answer was “I don’t know” when I asked myself if I’d leave him for her if I could have everything I’ve got with Tom with her, who I’m more attracted to, plus a decent sex life, plus the ability to sleep together.

Hmm…

Well, I certainly can’t see it, but I know I have to keep in mind that anything’s possible in this world. Anything. I have to remember all the things that I thought were 100% impossible that were possible and remember that nothing’s guaranteed in life. I just hope and pray that given that one in a million chance I did leave Tom for her or for any other woman that it’d work out forever. I’d be really fucked with nothing and nobody if I were to leave Tom for someone that ended up leaving me. Then what would I do? Where would I go? We’d have to be even more compatible than Tom and I are overall, and that’s real damn compatible, and she’d have to be real damn convincing in order to get me to give up Tom and the security I’ve got now.

I don’t know. I just don’t know. Even though there is a sexual attraction beyond anyone I’ve ever been intimate with before, and even if we could hit it off even better than Tom and I ever did, could I do that to Tom? Could I just throw him away? That’d be awfully hard to imagine. I’d always be wondering whatever became of him and his life. I’d miss the guy something terrible, too! I don’t know if I’d feel all that guilty, though, simply because we can’t help what we feel. In other words, it’d be silly for me to waste my time feeling guilty over my attraction to her when I just can’t help it any more than I can help liking the color pink, chocolate, music, etc.

A part of me wishes she was just another celebrity that I had a crush on. That way I could get all kinds of pictures of her off the net, and I’d never have to be torn between her and Tom in any way because a relationship would be out of the question in the first place.

Later…

Apple Cheeks stopped by about 15 minutes ago. This was his quickest visit. He stood in the dining area the whole time too, while I was filling out the form. He said he got the form from Gina saying that I’d completed my community service and asked if Helen was the last of the “special conditions.”

He didn’t leave right away, either. He sat in his car for a few minutes after he left the house. I assume he was doing paperwork cuz from my viewpoint out the windows, he wasn’t lurking around the property.

WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 12, 2001 Yesterday was one of the most shocking, most horrific, most oh-my-God days in history. Never have I witnessed terrorism so intense as what I saw on TV yesterday. Tom’s never seen anything like it in his lifetime, either. He called me from work about it.

The World Trade Center (both twin towers) in New York City exists no more. They’re just gone. Demolished. History. Nothing but huge piles of rubble, debris and ash. It makes me wonder when terrorists will rain down bombs and bullets over every inch of American soil that it has to hit us directly, too. So many people were killed that I’d be surprised if I didn’t know of any of them, and as always, it’s those fucking Arabs that are responsible. Always the Middle East, always. They have nothing better to do than to pick on America and Israel. Some Palestinian group is responsible. First I heard it had to do with their sick and twisted religion, then I heard it had to do with unwanted American military troops over there.

And also as always, people will be foolish enough to turn to God, our very enemy. As far as I’m concerned, I’ll stay out of God’s house and he can stay out of mine. Better yet, he can let me stay in mine.

Anyway, here’s what happened. It was a series of events that began at 8:45 Eastern time that didn’t end till about an hour later. The terrorists, at least some of them, killed themselves at the same time they killed about 10,000 others. See? People really will spite themselves to spite others. The freeloaders gave up a free house just to get at me. I was that worth it to them.

About 3-5 terrorists hijacked 4 different planes. At 8:45, one plane plowed through the south tower of the World Trade Center. About 18 minutes later, another one careened through the north tower. The footage of the towers imploding and collapsing into themselves was mind-boggling. And seeing the many miles of smoke and soot from an aerial view was incredible, too.

About an hour after all this started, a plane plowed into the Pentagon in Washington DC, and this plane managed to get into class B airspace, which is supposedly pretty restricted. A plane went down in Pennsylvania and then there was a car bomb that went off in New York. Federal monuments and museums were shut down. They grounded all flights in every single airport throughout the country. They told every pilot that was in US airspace to land immediately or else they’d be shot down. All international flights were diverted to Canada. They even closed a branch of the bank (not where Tom works) that’s near Sky Harbor Airport in Phoenix. They called for a “delta” state of security, the highest level of security there is. The United Nations in New York and all tunnels and bridges were closed and the people of lower Manhattan were urged to head north. The Whitehouse was evacuated and the president was whisked out of Sarasota Florida and secretly flown to Shreveport Louisiana.

The guy they think is responsible trains pilots for suicide missions and shit like that. Tom’s not sure if it’s connected to him because he was in his own country waging another battle at the time. But he made threats on video just a few months ago. And no one did shit about it. This country was too busy throwing people like me in jail and protecting its welfare bums. These fucking Arabs are worse than some others. Others fuck over a few people here and a few people there throughout their lives, and yes, they’re vengeful, vindictive, vicious, hateful little scumbags that use the past and their color as a crutch and excuse to use and abuse others, but they’re girl scouts compared to Arabs. Arabs are a million times deadlier, and they kill by the hundreds and thousands. See, one doesn’t need to be taught racism to become a racist. No one told me as I was growing up to hate Arabs or others. They made me hate them all by themselves.

Tom’s not so sure the death toll’s as high as they say since a woman managed to get out of one of the towers from the 92nd floor. Well, the media does love to exaggerate. Whatever the death toll is, though, enough innocent people got killed for no reason at all. The only ones I have no pity for are the 200 or so pigs that got killed. With a number that high, there had to be plenty of power-hungry, corrupt, lying manipulating assholes that society can do without.

What we both don’t get is how people can hijack planes with nothing but knives. They had no guns. How could 3-5 people overpower nearly 100, and on some flights, nearly 200 people, with just knives??? And how did they get through the locked cockpit door? Were the pilots in on this, too? How did they hijack these planes in the first place what with how tight security is? How can people hijack 4 planes and simply knock down the Twin Towers as if they were a bunch of Legos? I just can’t believe that a group this large pulled this off without someone ratting them out and throwing off their plan! A lot of the people killed on the planes were from MA. God, imagine taking off from Boston, heading towards L.A., only to end up plowing through the trade center!

MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 10, 2001 Although life is good overall, I’m sad. Sad because I miss my Teddy Bear. Still miss her even though I’ve been gone for over 4 months. At least the bright spot of it is that for every month I miss her, I’m one month closer to seeing her again. I can’t wait! God, I really fell for that woman. I’m in love and lust. It’s getting hard to believe it all happened. I have to remind myself that no, it wasn’t a dream. That yes, there really was a tall redheaded DO that I liked and that liked me back.

As for whether or not she’ll contact me before Christmas rather than wait the whole year, I don’t know. I’m completely vibeless at this point. I just know we’re in each other’s futures at some point. I’ll wait as long as I have to. She’s worth it.

Mary’s a reminder of the reality that existed from last October to April. Yes, I heard from her today. She says she doesn’t do drugs. She only did them once when she was 15 (I’m about to type that part up), but she does smoke cigarettes. She assured me she wouldn’t smoke around me, though. She says she rarely drinks but maybe champagne every now and then with her boyfriend. I kind of figured as much.

She says that although she wouldn’t mind going to Florida, she may do her time here because her 7-year-old son Murphy is in this state. I didn’t know she had a choice. Anyway, she also says her aunt’s in this state, but Todd’s not. She says Todd agreed to go wherever she goes.

She also sent me more story drafts. Her writing’s good, but erratic and not very detailed. I’m literally turning letters into a story. Meaning that she uses no caps, no punctuation, no paragraphs, no nothing.

Tom showed me how to make up address labels since my printer doesn’t want to do envelopes.

Tom also set up a computer in my office to play MP3s on my stereo, but I don’t know if I’m going to like this setup. For one, I hate having to keep turning the monitor off at night so I’m not rocking to the light glaring in my eyes, and it’s not as convenient for quickly fast-forwarding over sections of songs. I think I still might stick to burning CDs and getting a CD changer.

For the first time, we saw someone riding a bike down our street. A kid with a dog following him. I guess that’s a good sign. What’ll really determine whether or not we can sell this place for a hefty profit is the land in front diagonally of us. That’s not part of this subdivision. So if they were to put lots of houses there, that’d help us tremendously. It seems too good to be true, though, and something God wouldn’t allow us to do – make lots of money and live on a boat. On the other hand, I don’t see why we couldn’t do that when he retires if we can’t do it sooner. The question is, though – will we feel comfortable making our home in the middle of the ocean when we get older? Or would we prefer to have our feet on solid ground in some kind of retirement community?

Here’s the latest mouse arrangement, and believe me, it’s going to stay this way! Just when I thought I was a good breeder after all, after seeing that two of the ones I wanted pregnant did get pregnant, I noticed a big fuck-up I made. I noticed a couple of them, actually. I was casually looking into the ladies’ cages when I saw the pair of balls. So I plucked the pair of balls out and put it with the gentlemen. Then I noticed that one of the guys was getting fat. Particularly in the hips. So, when I picked her up and saw that she was quite pregnant, I said that’s it! You’re all living together. That way, it won’t only make my life easier, but then we can be surprised by what they create. As I told Tom, I think that once the count gets too high, I should pluck out the dull ones and that we should just kill them, rather than do anything complicated and time-consuming. People do kill animals all the time for various reasons. However, if we could sell them, that’d be great. That’s not very realistic, though. It’s obvious that while I may want to soar ahead and get with the times, God doesn’t want that for me. He’s determined to keep me a homemaker and nothing more.

I have a lot of projects going such as proofreading my story and typing Mary’s story. I still haven’t started proofing Teddy Bear’s copy, doing a condensed after-the-fact journal of my life, or scanning in signs. Mary’s story will probably take years, but proofing my story for me and for Teddy Bear won’t. Neither will sign scanning. So, when these are done is when I’ll probably tackle my autobiography. Actually, I may wait till this Teddy Bear thing plays out some more, so I can add that to it.

I asked Tom his opinion about what the future holds with Teddy Bear. He said he doesn’t think she’ll call without hearing from me first because, to her, I could’ve been just saying we’d get together. Now that I’m out of jail, she might think I might feel differently, but of course, I don’t. I miss her so bad and can’t wait to see her! The more time passes and the more I think about it, I think he could be right. I think she may wait to hear from me to see if I’m for real and still interested. The question is – will she still be interested? Or was she just talking? Will she have a girlfriend? Will friends or relatives try to talk her out of seeing me because I’m married and was an inmate? And just how far away does she live? She could live 20 minutes north of Phoenix in which case she’d be an hour and a half away.

You never know, though. She could still surprise me by calling me at the end of the year. I’ll just have to keep in mind that just because she may not do certain things, doesn’t necessarily mean she doesn’t care or have feelings for me. For example, just because I won’t leave Tom, doesn’t mean I don’t love her and wish I could be with her. Just because I won’t move back to the city to be closer to her, doesn’t mean I don’t care about her and want to see her more often.

SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 8, 2001 I’ve had chronic knee pain that began shortly after I got home and I’m wondering just how long this is going to go on. I’m really beginning to wonder if it’s ever going to go away. It seems like just when it eases up on me a bit, it gets worse. I’ve tried ibuprofen, I’ve tried Tylenol; nothing works. Another question is, how could this have started as suddenly as it did and in both knees? Tom says it could be a type of arthritis. God, I hope not! If I’ve got that starting this bad this young, I hate to think of how I’ll be 20 years from now! Is it going to get to the point where I can’t even rock out? Can’t work my lower body when working out? It’s gotten to the point where they’re aching even when I’m sitting or lying down. Will this ever go away? Like I said, my life’s nothing but one problem after another.

They put the house together today. I don’t like how I can see the front and side of it, instead of the back and side of it. I feel like I have even less privacy. Especially since most people out west tend to hang out in front of their houses, rather than in back, but it’s OK. As soon as the oleanders are planted next year, they’ll grow fast and put a wall between us. If they’re going to blast music out open windows, though, it won’t matter which direction they’re facing.

The plan is to cash some stocks in January and use that money for an exterior fence. Then will plant stuff like oleanders which grow tall and fast about 30’ from the perimeter.

FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 7, 2001 Today’s piss test was a breeze. That’s cuz he didn’t have anyone to watch me do it. He simply had me stand up to see if I was concealing anything, then I went into a bathroom by myself. Then when I was done, he did an instant test. It was really neat. Neither of us knew these things existed. They just started doing it to save money. He puts a few drops of urine on this thing that tests for cocaine, meth, pot, and a few other things. I assume it tests for alcohol, too. If there’s a line next to each one, it means you’re clean. If it looks questionable, he sends it to the lab to be fully tested. It could be a certain medication that trips the thing up.

My guess is that the next test will be after the New Year.

I’ve got 2 mice that are definitely pregnant, and one that might be, along with a most certainly pregnant GP.

I tried a really cool experiment yesterday with my 8 male mice. I put them in the tub and turned an upside-down bowl over the drain so they wouldn’t chew around it. In the tub, I put 2 wheels, plus the log they hide in. Then I ran a tube up to a small cage that sat on the wide ledge in the corner. That’s where their food and water were. I figured it’d make cleaning easier since all I’d have to do was just rinse the tub and wash the base of the small cage, but it stunk like hell in there. I figured I already had one room that reeked and that I didn’t need another.

The Biting Bitch, as we call the mouse that bit both of us, bit me again yesterday. Right on the forearm. I don’t know what it is with some of these rather violent mice! Guess I need to handle some of them more often when they’re babies.

Got a letter from my doctor letting me know everything was normal. Yeah, I’m just naturally fat with no metabolism and cursed with ridged nails.

Tom and I were discussing the fucked up laws again. He had a point when he mentioned convicted murderers that end up paroled, while conspirators like Charles Manson, who didn’t actually kill anyone, sit in jail forever. He’s been eligible for 20 years for parole but is denied cuz of his crazy behavior and wild beliefs. I think he should be either killed or put away for good in a funny farm. Crazies don’t belong in jail.

I don’t believe this, but Tom says Connecticut would’ve extradited me and charged me with the threatening letter/phone calls I sent Bill (and I admit to doing it, too) if it weren’t for my already being charged in this state for that. If that’s true, then God didn’t punish me by siccing the freeloaders on me; he saved my ass! If I had to be in jail, I’d certainly prefer to be in this state where Tom could visit than on the other side of the country. However, I don’t think that’s why I wasn’t charged. I think I wasn’t charged because I’m 3000 miles away, and because once again, Arizona’s one of the strictest states there is. Connecticut doesn’t jail people for words on paper and answering machines. If that were the case, I’d have been jailed for that back east a long time ago, numerous times. So, unless the laws have drastically changed and are the same as they are here, I was never at risk of charges/extradition in Connecticut. Besides, why would Connecticut not charge me simply because Arizona did? I asked Tom, and he said because that’s how it works. He says mass murderers never pay for all the people they kill. They just take one case that they know will stick and fry them on that.

That’s not the way I always understood it to work. I thought they paid for those they could prove were connected to that person. Anyway, if Tom’s right, and if the freeloaders really did save me from being dragged back east, then more power to them. They owed me that much for all the shit they’ve caused me.

THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 6, 2001 No one worked on the house yesterday or the day before. It doesn’t look like they’re going to work on it today, either.

Teddy Bear’s pregnant. We’ve had her for 43 days, which means the babies could be as far as 20 days away, depending on how soon she got pregnant before we bought her. One of my mice might be too, but I can’t say for sure on that one. Anyway, Tom and I are both psyched at the idea of having baby GPs!

I received 3 envelopes from Mary yesterday. One containing a letter, and two containing her story. It looks like she jumped to ‘92 when she was 15. That’s the year I came to Arizona. I was 26.

In the letter she confirmed my suspicions, telling me that although she’s never been with a woman, she’s had her fantasies and finds the female body to be beautiful. She’s happy with Todd, even though she says she hates guys in general. When she asked why I wanted to know, I told her I was just a very curious person. The kind some mistake for being nosy.

She was really dying for me to tell her who my woman is, so I told her it was a tall redhead. That should definitely tell her. Besides, I mentioned her knowing Spanish and German and how even she told me she’d swap German phrases with her. I know she’ll know who it is. Her reaction will be interesting to see.

I totally dread tomorrow. All I can do is hope I adapt to pissing in front of staring eyes, just like I adapted to peeing in jail with people in the same room. I do appreciate the warning, though.

I’m glad the community service is over, the mental health screening that they were supposed to do in jail is over and the counseling is almost over, but you know what? That’s still not good enough. We still have to dole out a much-needed $40 a month because of these freeloaders. I still have to report to Scot twice a month because of these freeloaders. I’m probably looking at at least 6 more piss tests, too. I appreciate the fact that he’s only coming to the house once a month instead of twice a month, but again, I don’t like it. He’s an unwanted visitor and it bugs me. It really bugs me. I don’t like how he walks throughout the house like he did the last time as if he owns it. I don’t like having to open my door to someone I didn’t invite. I don’t like my space being invaded! I hate having no freedom within my own home, having to watch every little thing I do in here so that it doesn’t come off as questionable. Yes, it’s better than jail, and yes, I’d rather pee once every few months under staring eyes, than have to go 90% of the time with someone else in the room and not have any privacy for shitting, but still – I’m forced to do things I don’t want to do and shouldn’t have to do because of the freeloaders who harassed me for years and who put stress on me day after day, month after month, year after year. The stress was often worse than the actual shit they’d dish out at me. When they weren’t doing something, just the stress of knowing it was just a matter of time before they would, was nearly unbearable. It really played on my stomach, my mind, my sleep – my life! And now I gotta pay for it with this shit?! Thanks, God. Thanks a million.

Yes, I see jail as an adventure, both good and bad, that was quite a learning experience, but it still never should’ve happened. If I was so meant to meet Mary and Teddy Bear, couldn’t God have found some other way for us to meet? Did he really need to go to such extremes?

SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 2, 2001 Right month, wrong year. The house I predicted arriving in back in September is here. Tom says he doesn’t think it’s positioned yet, and I hope he’s right, cuz I don’t like how it’s facing right at us. Although I still don’t have a bad vibe, I reminded Tom that we’re out of here if it’s subsidized freeloaders. Because they’re not just a few feet away, voices and barking wouldn’t be a problem, but musically speaking, they could be a huge problem as loud as today’s stereos are and with how many miles their sounds carry. Especially if they’re home all day with nothing better to do but sell or manufacture drugs. I’ll be damned if I’ll waste my time calling George only to get little, no, or part-time results just to end up in jail for complaining cuz they happened to have a piggy friend or cuz I’m white or both.

So that’s two new houses this year alone, and we know George is going to put one more in back of the 3 rentals that are side by side. I never thought I’d wish for this place to build up so we could rake in a profit, sell the land/house for a huge amount of money, then sail to sea. Somehow, though, I can’t see God allowing us to do that. The more I try to isolate myself, the more he seems determined to reach his mighty hand into my house, yank me out of it, and throw me in where all the people are! If I go left, God pushes me right. If I go up, God pushes me down – ugh!

Again, I don’t have a bad vibe, but my hearing has got to have improved for a reason. Not only are certain volumes now too loud for me to stand, unlike before, but according to my last hearing test, my hearing has improved. It’s improved! Hearing isn’t supposed to improve with age, and besides, someone who’s blasted their ears with loud music for 20 years should have a major hearing loss, but that’s not so in my case. Now, this may sound extremely paranoid, but isn’t it quite a coincidence that my hearing improves once I’m further away from people? What better way for God to have someone hear people who are further away from them than to improve their hearing?

Well, no matter what we get in there, all we can do is just live with it. I mean, we’ve got to hear them and the people at Dan’s place sooner or later simply because this is Arizona, and as soon as it cools down, I expect there’ll be something in the way of noise.

I know it can’t be my Teddy Bear coming to live in that house now that I know just how far from the jail we are.

It’s still so cool how they could haul in a house on the property adjacent to ours without our knowing about it till we accidentally happened to spot it like we did this morning when we went outside (Tom’s burning trash right now out there). There’d be no missing a show like that in Phoenix even with loud music playing on our stereo!

After being here this long, I must say that the people next to us can’t be freeloaders. I initially thought they were cuz they were darker and cuz no matter where I go, I always get stuck with the blacks or Mexicans next to me. I think they’re Italian, though, because they’re just too quiet and there’s not enough of them. Mexicans breed like rabbits.

Yesterday we went and dropped off bottles and did what should be our final bottle pick-up. Gina wasn’t there. She hasn’t been there due to a sick relative. Anyway, now that I know which bottles are bad, for the most part, I weeded those out of the boxes as best I could.

They sent us another great deal where you get 50% off any one item in the adult catalog, plus a free vibrator and video. I don’t care for the video, but I’ll take the two vibrators, which will only come to around $16 total with shipping and handling. They break easily, so it’s always good to have a few. Plus, I don’t like the two I got the last time. The first time I had one of the ones I’ve got, I loved it, but now it’s not too easy to get off by. The big, bulky ones just don’t cut it for me as well as those with small points do. I prefer something the same size as the tip of a tongue. It also makes it more realistic when imagining Teddy Bear going down on me till she does it for real!

Since Teddy Bear and I developed our mutual thing for each other, I haven’t had one fantasy concerning Palma.

I’m going to finish Mary’s first round of drafts. Although different than mine, I like her writing style. She’s taking bits and pieces of her life. She’ll take a clip from 81, then another from 82. A day in her life here and a day in her life there of a specific event.

Little could she know in ‘81 in New York, and little could I know in ‘81 in Massachusetts (and 5 months of that year in Vermont) that fate would have us cross paths 20 years later in an Arizona jail!

Later…

I questioned Tom about it, who saw them up close and personal, and asked if he was sure they were Mexicans next door, and they are. Mexicans next to me in Phoenix and next to me here? Yeah, I believe it. Had I known, though, up front, I’d never have bought this land. At least they’re not your typical Mexicans entirely. They live like filthy Mexicans with trash all over their land, but they work and they’re not loud.

Tom says the people at Dan’s are more likely to have people with loud car stereos visiting cuz of the way he sees them outside a lot and hears them talking loudly. Yeah, I’ve already established the fact that I’ll hear them this winter, but mostly by the household stereo blasting out their windows. The more outdoorsy people are, the more there’s a potential for noise.

Tom says that January would be a good time for the exterior fencing cuz he can cash in some stocks at that time. Also, he had the great idea of planting oleanders around the back and south side perimeters (where the Mexicans are) of the land cuz they grow fast and can act like a wall, giving us a little more privacy. It wouldn’t block much sound out, but it’d block out houses, enabling me to still see the big mountains in back, giving it a more isolated look and feel. Out of all the mountains we can see from the house, the closest ones are in back and the furthest are in front.

Tomorrow’s Labor Day, so I expect to hear some music then. We might be at Mary’s swimming and burning CDs, though, throughout some of it.

They worked on prepping the house Sunday but took yesterday off. They turned the house so that just like the others, its side faces us. The house is about 30 years old and identical to the others. I wish more new houses would come in! Not old pieces of crap that people rent. Right now I don’t have a bad vibe.

It was quiet yesterday, though we were gone from 11 AM-7 PM. We went swimming, had pizza and ice cream, and made a couple of CDs. We burned two audio ones for me and one data CD for him of all the songs we wanted from what was in their directory at the time. We also want the stuff I get on CD on the computer in digital format to hopefully replace a CD changer.

I left my list at their house so they can grab some more songs when they get the opportunity. They already had a few of the ones I wanted. I have to reburn a song that got cut off less than a minute into it. There are a few that skip at the beginning, but nothing major.

We’re hoping to get a new burner (and hope to not jinx it), then get a satellite connection so we can accumulate and burn songs ourselves. Right now, songs that take a minute to download on Mary’s computer take about an hour or more for us to download here.

We got a little help financially, for once, even if it wasn’t much. We got two bingo tickets. I’m almost always right when I say we’ll either win or lose, but when we win, I don’t know by how much. It’s usually 1-3 bucks. Well, my ticket won $3 and his won an astonishing $25!

I expect I’ll probably have mail from Mary today.

Later…

No mail from Mary today because Tom didn’t stop at the PO today. He’ll stop tomorrow.

I forgot to mention earlier that the freeloaders gave me back my tub. Yes, I did the last of the bottles today.

SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 1, 2001 September has officially begun the hunting season. I hear shots being fired as I write this. Shoot the freeloaders, will you?!

Mary’s finally begun her book! I was beginning to wonder if she’d ever get started on it. I was surprised that she sent 13 sheets of paper at once, though. Didn’t she know there’d be postage due on that? We owed 23¢, not that she isn’t worth the extra cost. Even so, so it doesn’t get to be a hassle for Tom (because he has to wait in line in order to pay and then get the mail), I advised her not to mail more than 10 sheets at once.

Her writing’s getting easier to read, even though she still doesn’t use caps, paragraphs or periods. I can figure out where those are appropriate. That’s part of my job.

I guess from what she tells me, she’ll be sending clips from various parts of her life, jumping around from time to time. I won’t worry, though, about the story’s layout till she’s given me everything she wants to include in the book.

She sent a 6-page letter and 19 pages of memories from when she was 4 years old in 1981 in New York. I can’t believe she can remember such detail at just 4 years old! I’ve only read/typed up the first couple of pages, though, so I can’t get into what it was about yet.

She asked me to change people’s names, but as I explained to her – what if I renamed one of her exes the same name as another ex? So I told her I’d keep a list of all the names as I came across them, making footnotes. Then, if she has a problem with any of the names along the way, she can tell me and I’ll change them again.

I’ll send her about 20 sheets at a time in small manila envelopes, as I type them up, the same way I’m going to send my book to her once she’s out of there.

She says she’ll look at it like her job. She’ll work on the book during the day, then write me, her boyfriend Todd, and her auntie at night.

In her letter she said, “I know your woman is Palma.” So the next clue I gave her was that she’s tall, at least 5” taller than Palma. If she still doesn’t get it, I’ll tell her that omitting Palma and Gibb, she’s already mentioned her name. If she still doesn’t get it, then I’ll tell her something that’ll be a dead giveaway, without it standing out on paper like a sore thumb. And she knows this about Teddy Bear, too. I’ll tell her that she speaks Spanish and German. The reason I know Mary knows this is because Mary knows a little German herself and she told me they’d exchange phrases here and there.

She says she’s getting along really well with her 3 cellies, Teresa did get page 2’d over a letter she wrote, Misha went home after going to GP, white Johnson’s still on 2nd shift, and Laticia’s a snitch, period.

She says she thinks she’ll be free in 04 or 05, but isn’t sure where she’ll be going from there. She’s sure, though, that she’ll be coming to see me. She even mentioned my visiting New York with her. No thanks, I told her!

She said there’s no Ad-Seg in Florida (this surprised me), but that she won’t need it there anyway.

Lastly, she was born on 10/15/77.

This morning I’m going to go with Tom to drop off and then pick up the final batch of bottles. Then - one less thing I gotta do for the freeloaders! We’re also going to pick up some maze and bingo tickets which I vibe a win. As Tom will admit, I have pretty good accuracy with vibing when we’ll win and when we won’t.

I tried this special shampoo that’s supposed to take the frizz out of coarse curly hair, but as I figured, it didn’t help. We just can’t change what we’re cursed with!

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swisschemie-blog · 5 months ago

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Vitamin E manufacturer

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Beyond growth and immune support, Vitamin E is important for reproductive health in pigs. It helps develop and maintain reproductive tissues and has been shown to improve fertility in both sows and boars. This leads to larger litters and healthier piglets, which is vital for a sustainable swine operation.

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noxmachinimafr · 11 months ago

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Minecraft - Back to Fort Panda

Hi there, I was back to Minecraft this weekend! The squad was a bit smaller: my brother and me. Yet, many things happened during this session, and we really had a blast! Billy's house in the jungle The main objective of this session was to build me a house. I like the style I gave to the building. I still struggle to build a rooftop, and symmetry is still...an abstract concept, sometimes. But, it is a cozy place with a nice view. And there is no longer a need to sleep in the temple or in the panda stable, which is a great improvement! :D

Panda Garden Invasion The slight problem of panda overcrowding (mentioned in a previous Minecraft post) is not fully fixed. I think I need to double the fence to prevent the pandas from falling... ^^' So, now, I have many pandas happily frolicking in my garden, which is quite cute! :D

The Storm Sadly, later in the night, a big storm hit Fort Panda. We had a lightning rod to prevent the buildings (mainly made of jungle wood and bamboo) from being affected. Not impressed by the extreme meteorological conditions, several pandas decided it was just the best time to have a snack in the middle of the bamboo grove. But they got stuck at mid-road between the fence of a farm and the so-called lightning rod... The first pandas got hit and vaporized into dust and bamboo sticks, which attracted the other pandas nearby ("Yeah, warm bamboo snack!"). Lightning stroke a second time, and so on... Meanwhile, our piglets were turned into zombies and started attacking us.

What a night! We lost 13 pandas and almost all our piglets! My brother made a commemorative fountain near the place of the terrible incident. We put the bamboo sticks that were dropped by the vaporized pandas, as a tribute... You can notice that we placed the new lightning rod there, so it could protect the buildings and the pandas.

Happy Ending! But no worries, as shown in the very first picture of this post, the garden colony has already recovered pretty well and is thriving, now! Next time, we will secure the bamboo grove and connect the panda stable (near the temple), to the garden. The pandas will soon have a wonderful haven!

#panda #minecraft #minecraft story #orcs

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legends-of-time · 1 year ago

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The Journey of Living at Downton

Chapter 33:Early August 1922

Masterlist

Come early August, Emma is shocked to see how time has flown. Sybbie will be turning two this month and Emma will be heading back to work as the brand new head nurse of the Hospital.

"So, what did Anna say when she saw the dress?" Emma asks.

Emma thinks this is a good opportunity to get all the details of Mary's mud-filled adventure with Charles Blake and the Downton pigs, as she, Mary, Edith and Tom walk the worn path that leads from the house to the end of the estate where the pig stye has been built. Mary hasn't really been too open about the night of the pig incident which seems to have changed Mr Blake's attitude towards her.

"Honestly, she had no words." Mary says. "I don't think I've ever seen her eyes so big in shock. I told her she needn't take the time to clean it as it was obviously ruined beyond repair."

"But a small sacrifice for the sake of the estate." Edith remarks sardonically.

"And what of Mr. Blake?" Emma asks, looking at Mary from the side of her eyes.

"What about him?" Mary asks casually, seemingly ignoring the gentle teasing in Emma's tone.

"Well, you saved the pigs and made him breakfast while all dressed in evening wear, though perhaps a bit mucky." Emma says. "That has definitely thawed him out a bit."

Mary rolls her eyes. "I'm not interested in his... temperature."

Edith and Emma giggle.

"Well, he might be more interested in yours now." Emma remarks. "It never takes them long to decide they like you, Mary. You're not so modest as to deny it."

Mary ignores her teasing. "The true hero of the night is the scullery maid who left the whisk in the sink. Otherwise, I'd never have known where to find it."

"So, you saved her too, then," Emma says, "or she'd have gotten a scolding from Mrs Patmore come morning."

"What did the pig man say after all this?" Edith asks.

"He had the decency to resign the post." Mary explains airily.

"Would you have given him the sack?" Emma asks. "If the pigs knocked over the trough, it was only an accident."

Tom, who is a step ahead of the trio of women, turns as he walks and says, "I think he saw it as a bad omen, and decided to cut his losses."

"Tom disagreed, but I'd have sacked him." Mary says. "But I appreciate his not wanting to go on after an inauspicious start."

"So, you'll have to find someone new?" Edith asks.

Tom looks over his shoulder at Mary.

"We'll see." Mary replies.

As the group nears the barn, Emma catches the stench of the animals, which makes her picture, once again, Mary neck deep in mud. She chuckles. "Never let it be said, Mary, that you are not willing to fight for Downton."

Mary smiles, then looks to Tom. "I hope Drew knows we're coming."

"Yes." Tom reassures. "I sent a note yesterday."

They walk through the barn, cute little piglets running around their feet, and approach the open pens where the adult pigs are kept.

"Have the pigs recovered, do you think?" Edith questions.

Mr Drewe, in working clothes, comes walking towards them, carrying a pail.

"They look in good shape to me, after the shock of their arrival." Mary observes.

"But why didn't he check to see they all had water before he left for the night?" Mary wonders.

"Maybe he filled the trough and thought that was enough. He wasn't to know they'd kick it over." Mr Drewe defends the poor pigman.

"Mr Branson is right. He should have made sure." Mary says.

Emma turns to Mr Drewe. "I'm sure you would have done."

"Where did you learn about pigs?" Edith asks.

"We've always had pigs at Yew Tree, M'lady." Mr Drewe replies. "Not many, but enough to learn their ways."

"I'm truly seeing what His Lordship saw in you." Emma comments.

"Thank you, Mrs Branson." Mr Drewe puts down his pail. "So, have you found a man to take over?"

"Not yet. First, we'd like to know if you'd want the job." Mary offers.

Mr Drewe looks at them in surprise. "Me? You mean I'm to manage the pigs for the estate, as well as me farm?"

"It's asking a lot." Tom realises.

"I can do it." Mr Drewe reassures him. "If you're sure?"

"Let's give it a try, see how we get on." Mary says.

As Mr Drewe, Tom and Mary discuss the matter for a few minutes, Emma walks around and watches the animals walk around their small space. She now wishes, she'd brought Sybbie and Ivy with them on their walk even though it is likely they'd have ended up covered in mud too.

——

Everyone's gathered in the Library having tea, attended by Mr Carson, Mr Molesley and Jimmy. Violet and Isobel are visiting and Emma is glad to see the Dowager going from strength to strength. Evelyn Napier and Charles Blake are unsurprisingly surrounding Mary though the duo are to be leaving soon.

Cora is at the desk, stressing about the bazaar, a task usually dealt with by Robert but as he's in America (dealing with Cora's brother's involvement in the 'Teapot Dome' scandal. So, the daunting task has been left to his wife and anyone she can drag into it.

Emma and Tom walk over to where Isobel sits reading a newspaper, and sit down next to her.

"Anything interesting?" Tom asks.

"I'm reading about county politics. They're looking for candidates for the local council." Isobel replies. She hands the paper to Tom. Emma leans over his shoulder to have a peak. "Why don't you put yourself forward?"

"Mr Ward has already invited Tom to be a part of the local committee, to help draft the local platform before the coming election." Emma comments, glancing pointedly at her husband, who glances elsewhere in an attempt to avoid her gaze.

"Sounds splendid!" Isobel exclaims with a smile.

"I'm still not sure about it." Tom adds. "But what are my politics these days? I'm not sure."

"You could always read a bit about it." Isobel offers.

"You won't find many books on the Liberal ideals in this room. And nothing at all about socialism." Tom retorts.

"If you're serious about driving me to Thirsk tomorrow, perhaps we might find some then." Isobel says.

Tom smiles, honouring her good intentions, but hands the paper back to her.

"Well, either way it'll be a nice trip. I'd like to come, we could take Ivy and Michael out." Emma says.

"What a lovely idea!" Isobel agrees.

The door opens and Nanny Jean and her companion walk in with Michael and George in their arms and Sybbie and Ivy in tow.

"Are we too early?" Nanny Jean questions.

"Bring them in, Nanny. I don't think anyone will mind." Mary reassures from her seat on the settee next to Mr Blake.

"Your Papa might, but he isn't here to complain." Cora remarks with a pleased smile, visibly happy to see the children.

The Nanny walks Ivy over to Tom, who gets down to take her into his arms and places Michael in Emma's. Her companion brings Sybbie over to her grandmother, who's moved to the settee next to Edith then brings over a loudly crying George towards Mary.

Mary is putting her cup on the side table. "One moment, darling, while Mummy puts away her cup."

"Oh, here, let me." Mr Blake holds out his hands for George and the Nanny puts the crying baby in his arms. Emma watches, while cradling Michael, how Mr Blake handles him quite competently. "Hello, there."

Mary is honestly surprised while Violet is downright shocked. Emma can't help but see, something that has been happening recently, the possibility of Mary and Mr Blake...

"He's turning into quite a bruiser." Mr Blake remarks. George is still crying.

"Yes, and I must go." Violet says as she pulls herself up.

"Stay and have some dinner, Mama. You needn't change." Cora pleads, standing up with Sybbie in her arms.

Those sitting stand in politeness. Mr Blake is still rocking a crying George in his arms, patting him soothingly on the back while Mary takes her son's little hand and makes gentle shushing noises.

"No. Thank you, my dear, but no. You should change and I should go." Violet says. She takes her leave in a hurry.

——

That evening, Emma makes her way down the stairs and when she reaches the bottom, Emma feels someone grab her arm. She startles and turns to find Mary is the one pulling her into a corner.

"Why did you not tell me?" Mary hisses.

Emma frowns. "Tell you what?"

"That it was Lord Gillingham's Valet that attacked Anna."

Emma's eyes widen in panic and glances around them, fearful someone may have heard before turning back to Mary's accusing gaze. "You know why. She's my friend Mary, I don't want to break her trust. She pleaded for me not to say anything, she desperately wants to protect her husband from his own anger."

"We need to do something." Mary insists.

"Like what? We can't say anything."

"Lord Gillingham and his valet are coming tomorrow night. I'm going to try and telephone him tomorrow to either come without Green or to not come at all." Mary says.

Emma nods. "I suppose that's all we can do for now."

——

Isobel, Emma and Tom get out of their parked car along with the children. Tom pulls out the pram for Emma to lie Michael in while Ivy diligently holds onto Isobel's hand.

"Let's meet in the book shop in ten minutes. I've got some letters to post." Isobel shows the letters in her hand. "I can take Ivy with me." She grins cheerfully at Ivy and squeezes her hand. The toddler smiles back.

"If you're sure?" Emma asks. Isobel affirms. Emma turns to Ivy. "Would you like to go with Auntie Isobel?"

Ivy grins at her mother. "Yes!"

Tom chuckles and leans down to stroke his daughter's cheek. "Well, okay then. We'll see you at the bookshop."

They walk away in different directions.

——

Emma and Tom are strolling along, the latter is pushing the pram. They are walking past the windows of the tea room when suddenly Tom pauses and doubles back.

Emma pauses. "Tom? What is it?"

"Just something..." Tom trails off. "Could open the door for me?" He gestures to the door of the tea room.

Emma frowns but does as he asks and holds the door open for him as he pushes Michael inside and follows after.

A lady customer passes them on her way out. The woman behind the till nods her head towards them and Emma and Tom do the same as Tom takes off his hat. Though the former is confused while the latter looks concerned.

"Why are we in here, Tom?" Emma asks.

"That." Tom nods to the window between the front counter and the tea room at the back.

Emma follows his gaze and through it, she can see Rose and Jack Ross, who are just taking their places at a table. They smile happily at each other. Rose reaches out to stroke Jack's cheek but the singer pulls away. Emma doesn't blame him. Even from where she's standing, she can see a waitress is watching from the doorway while a woman is watching from a neighbouring table.

Emma can see that Tom is deeply unsettled and she doesn't want him to do anything she'll hate him for. "Let's go, Tom." She encourages.

Tom nods and they step out of the shop along with Michael and walk off. Emma doesn't have a problem with what's going on between Rose and Mr Ross but knows that this time period does and even her own one does sometimes and because of this, she knows this won't end well, particularly for Mr Ross. Rose is naïve enough to not realise this.

——

Emma and Tom don't really know what to do, both of them agreeing this won't end well. They end up deciding that Mary might be the best one to go to, they trust her.

That evening, after getting ready for dinner, Emma and Tom knock on the eldest Crawley daughter's door. At Mary's call, they enter the room. Emma notes that Anna, who lingers in the room, is looking quite crestfallen.

Emma frowns but gets distracted by Mary's comment to Tom as she stands from her vanity, pulling on some gloves. "No tails? You know Granny's coming."

Tom looks down in his black tie ensemble. "Oh, God, is she? I didn't realise." He turns to run straight back out again.

"No, don't change. It's time she learned about the real world." Mary says.

"Well, that's a phrase with more than one definition."

There's an uncomfortable silence. Emma doesn't really want to talk about this with Anna present. Thankfully she gets it and walks out of the room, closing the door.

"Can we have a word?" Tom starts. "We've seen something, and we're not saying there's anything wrong about it, but we'd feel uncomfortable if we kept it to ourselves."

"We also are not sure how to deal with it so we thought it best to share it with you." Emma adds.

"I'm all ears."

"This morning, in Thirsk, we saw Rose." Tom says.

"Yes, she was shopping." Mary says with a 'duh' like tone.

"No, she was not shopping." Emma disagrees. "She was meeting a man. We saw her as she reached up to stroke his cheek."

Mary sighs in resignation. "Oh, golly. Who is it this time?"

"It was Jack Ross - the singer with the band who came up for your father's party." Emma explains. "Again, nothing wrong, but, well, you know how naïve Rose is with how the world works. I worry that she doesn't realise the implications for him."

"That's it. We've told you and have nothing more to add." Tom declares. Emma can see he didn't take any pleasure in doing this and he walks out without another word.

"Emma." Mary calls before Emma can follow.

"Yes?"

Mary sighs. "It's about lord Gillingham. Apparently, he left the Dalrymples straight after breakfast, so I missed him when I telephoned."

Emma closes her eyes. "I was wondering why Anna looked so sad when we came in. There's nothing more we can do, is there?"

"Except pray that Bates doesn't work it out." Mary says.

"I fear he may have already."

——

Since Robert has been away, the seating layout has changed. Cora sits in Robert's seat while Violet sits in Cora's old seat. Emma, as usual, sits between Rose and Edith while Mary sits next to Billy and Tom at the other end.

Violet is next to Gillingham. "Have you been wandering round Scotland since we saw you?"

"I have." Gillingham replies. "I was on the Spey. I did a tour of the cousinage, then after that a wedding in Ayrshire. I've enjoyed myself. It gave me time to think for once."

"What about?" Billy asks across Tom and Rosamund.

"My life, I suppose."

Emma tenses at that and notes how everyone is listening in as well. Emma already knows this will lead them down an awkward path.

"Everyone should, from time to time." Isobel comments.

"Oh, I can't agree. In my experience it's a dangerous occupation." Violet dismisses.

Emma frowns, curious. "Dangerous?"

"Well, no life appears rewarding if you think too much about it." This is putting rather a damper on the party.

Rosamund, who sits next to Tom, makes a valiant attempt to change the subject. "I gather you've launched into pigs these days."

"Yes." Tom replies. "And their arrival was quite the adventure, in which Mr Blake and Mary were the hero and heroine."

Gillingham turns to Mary, rather miffed. "Is this what you wouldn't tell me when I was last here?"

Mary smiles uncomfortably. "Only because I didn't want to make too much of it."

"Lady Mary was perfectly splendid." Emma glances across rose to Mr Blake, who's really not helping.

"Lady Mary is perfectly splendid. Really, Charles, are you a pig expert as well?" Gillingham snips.

"He was that night, thank heaven." Mary comments.

Now it's Cora's turn to try and make things less awkward. "Rosamund and Edith have some exciting news."

"What's that?" Mr Napier questions.

"We're going on a sabbatical, so that we can really improve our French," Rosamund explains. "The only thing I ever learned from my governess was how to say 'please', 'thank you' and 'I have a temperature.'"

Emma frowns. It seems very sudden and strange but she knows now is not the time to say that. "Seems useful when travelling, but it would be nice to be able to hold an actual conversation.

"Precisely." Rosamund turns to her mother. "Do you remember her, Mama? She was always in tears."

"Oh, poor Mademoiselle. Her life was full of 'complications'." Violet and Rosamund share a little laugh at the memory. "I think she quite enjoyed it, though."

"But why you? You don't want to learn French. Or is this an incognito search for the missing Mr Gregson?" Mary remarks insensitively.

"Don't tease her. It's much more serious than that." Billy says.

"Thank you, Billy. If you must know, I fancy getting away for a bit." Edith says. Emma frowns as she watches the woman next to her look down, fiddling with her fork.

"Oh. Like Lord Gillingham, thinking his way around the Highlands." Violet gives Edith a searching look. Seems she's also sharing Emma's suspicions that this isn't all that it seems.

——

After dinner, Emma is walking along the landing to her and Tom's room after checking in on the children when she finds Anna standing outside Mary's room.

"Anna?" Emma calls to her as she approaches.

"Ssh!" Anna quickly hisses.

Emma is about to ask why when she hears Rose declare, "I love him. And I won't listen to any imperialist nonsense about racial purity and how he should be horsewhipped for daring to dream."

Oh dear, seems Mary is talking to Rose about what Emma and Tom had seen in Ripon.

"Don't you know me better than that?" Mary retorts.

"I'm going to marry him, Mary. And I don't care what it costs and I won't keep it a secret. Not once I've told Mummy. I want to see her face crumble when she finds out." Rose declares fiercely.

Emma is startled when Rose opens the door and charges past her and Anna. Emma and Mary exchange a concerned look.

——

Mr Napier, Gillingham and Mr Blake are making their farewells in the Great Hall in the presence of Tom, Emma, Rose, Cora and Mary.

"I feel we're driving you away." Cora says.

"Oh, hardly. We're in grave danger of outstaying our welcome." Mr Blake remarks.

"If Tony hadn't offered us a lift, we'd probably be here forever." Mr Napier adds. Emma knows that's probably the reason the lift was offered in the first place.

"I hope you'll be back soon." Cora says.

"Good luck with your bazaar." Mr Blake says.

"I think Lady Grantham wants to plead for you to stay and lend her a hand." Emma remarks.

"Don't tempt me." Everyone laughs a bit.

"I'm so grateful for your advice and wisdom." Marry says to Mr Blake. "And not least for the very practical and muddy pig rescue."

"Glad to be of service, M'lady."

They all walk for the door. Emma glances back, seeing they are leaving Mary and Gillingham alone for a moment. Mmm...

"Are you going straight there?" Billy asks.

"We might stop for some lunch." Mr Blake replies.

The party soon comes walking out of the front door, the visitors dressed in their travelling coats and hats. Green stands waiting by the car. Emma sends a glare before turning back to the farewell conversations around her. She doesn't want to give him the time of day.

The final shaking of hands and the three gentlemen walk to the car and get in. Gillingham is driving himself, with Green next to him, and Mr Napier and Mr Blake in the back. They start driving off. They line up to see them off, Rosamund and Edith having joined them.

"I'm sorry to see them go." Cora says mournfully.

"Not as sorry as Mary." Rose remarks. "What's a group noun for suitors?"

"What do you think? A 'desire'?" Cora suggests teasingly.

"'A desire of suitors'. Very good." Rosamund agrees. Emma huffs a laugh along with the others.

Mary remains stone faced. "If you're going to talk nonsense, I have better things to do." Mary leads the way back in. The other ladies are still giggling.

——

The Villagers start setting up the stalls for the bazaar on Saturday. Cora is in the middle of the bazaar preparations as she stands at the writing desk in the Library, holding a letter. Rose is in an armchair, reading a newspaper. Emma comes walking up to them.

"What a nightmare. The man selling ices is ill, so I've got to find another. The grocers from Easingwold and Malton can't be side by side, and I've got to decide the house menus with Mrs Patmore." Cora complains to Rose as Emma walks up to them.

"I'll do that. Tend to the bazaar." Emma offers, feeling sorry for the woman.

"Are you sure? Because if you are..."

"I'm sure. Everyone's got to pull their weight." Emma insists. She glances disapprovingly at Rose, who is clearly not pulling her weight. Cora hands her the paper and gives her a look of gratitude.

Rose calls after Cora, "When's Cousin Robert coming back?"

"I don't know. I wish I did. We've had no word from him in days." Cora laments before leaving.

Rose puts down the newspaper and is about to say something before cutting herself off.

"What is it?" Emma prompts.

"I've got to tell someone, or I'll just explode." Rose says excitedly.

"Tell someone what?"

"Oh, Emma." Rose jumps up and moves towards her. "What do you think? I'm engaged!"

Emma gapes at her. "You what?" She blurts.

——

After hearing Rose boast to Mary about how she wants to see her mother's face 'drop', Emma knows that Rose doesn't truly love Mr Ross as she should and the girl's news just confirms it. To be honest, Emma worries about what everyone will do to Mr Ross because of Rose trying to prove a point.

Emma tells Mary who decides she must go up to London. Emma wishes she could join but she's been tied down with promises to Cora to help with the bazaar. Mary hurries off and Emma moves on to observing and conducting the set up of the stalls for the bazaar on the lawn, bunting and flower garlands used as decorations. Emma walks through them all, directing things with a clipboard in hand and Mr Carson at her shoulder. The servants are out handing drinks and sandwiches to those setting up the stalls.

Emma is conducting Rosamund and Rose setting up a trestle table when Mary, dressed for travelling, and Cora walk up to them with Anna trailing behind.

"But why the urgency?" Emma hears Cora asking.

"I can't explain, but I swear if you knew, you'd approve." Mary replies. She shares a conspiring look with Emma.

"What this? What's happened?" Rose asks.

"Mary has to go to London." Cora tells her, sounding irritated. Rose almost seems to light up at the word 'London'.

"It's no big thing. I'll be back tomorrow night." Mary reassures.

"Can I come?" Rose quickly asks.

"No."

"Well, why not?"

"Because Mama needs you here." Mary says.

"Plus, Tom and Billy have gone off to Skipton so we're low on a couple of hands." Emma adds pointedly.

"What for?" Rosamund asks.

"Tom wants to see some suppliers and compare prices." Emma shrugs.

Mary turns and kisses her mother on the cheek. "Goodbye, then. Bye, Rose." The young girl is sulking.

"Do you want to stay at the house? I'll telephone if you do." Rosamund offers.

"Could you? You're an angel." Mary says.

"I'm afraid I told Mead he could visit his sister in Swindon, but they'll do the best they can." Rosamund tells her.

"Thank you." Mary walks away.

"How mysterious." Rosamund remarks.

You have no idea.

——

The next morning, it's time for the stalls to be decorated for the bazaar tomorrow. Emma is in the Hall with Edith, Rose and Cora at some trestle tables that have been put up and are sorting through tablecloths and decorations for the bazaar. In the background, several members of the staff are busy, too.

Emma and Rose giggle with each other as they put on silly helmets.

Rosamund arrives downstairs. "Goodness, I thought I'd be down before anyone."

Emma scoffs with a smile. "Cora wouldn't let us. An early start helps get the job done."

Tom and Billy walk in from outside with their jackets off and sleeves rolled up. Emma gives her husband an appreciative look. He always looks good with his sleeves rolled up.

"We've got the tent up for the tea, and they're fetching the tables and chairs from the barn." Tom tells them.

"Just don't let them mess up the grass too much when they drive them back." Cora replies.

Rose nearly knocks Tom in the head with something that looks like Neptune's trident. "Rose!" Tom laughs. He turns to Emma and smirks at her headdress. "Very nice."

Emma chuckles and tips her helmet slightly. "Why thank you kind Sir."

Cora and Edith are at either end of a huge linen basket but are quickly relieved of the heavy basket by Billy who carries it outside.

——

Emma is outside, helping set up and directing people when she spots a familiar face setting up some sweet jars on a stall talking to Billy who carries three folding chairs in each hand.

Emma spots her husband nearby and walks over to him. "Oh, that's Sarah Bunting. Didn't know she was local."

Tom turns to her and then glances at Sarah and Billy with a contemplative look. "Yes, she's a school teacher in the Village. Me and Billy saw her yesterday, helped her with her broken down car."

Emma sees Tom looks uncomfortable. "What is it?"

"She's very opinionated." Tom reluctantly admits. "I felt she was attacking mine and Billy's beliefs because we live at Downton. She doesn't like the upper class very much."

Emma smirks at him. "Neither did you I recall."

Tom huffs a laugh. "I know but... have I stepped to far from my socialist beliefs? Am I so different from the man you first met?"

"Mmm... well, you've mellowed out I suppose but no." Emma replies. "You're still a fighter for your beliefs, you just understand the other side a bit more than before."

Cora then appears beside them, carrying a tray laden with flowers in vases. "Are they ready for these?" She asks Tom.

Tom nods. "Give me those." He takes them and hurries off again. Emma frowns as she watches him. She hopes he's alright.

——

It is finally Saturday and the bazaar is in full swing. There's laughter and chatter, people milling around, talking, looking at the stalls, eating and drinking. Children are playing games like sack races and running around excitedly. Men play the ring-the-bell game. There's a hook and duck stand where a tin bath is being used.

Jimmy ladles punch into a cup and then furtively drinks it himself. Anna and Gemma are serving food in the tea tent. Rosamund is temporarily manning a baker's stall, serving a customer with a very upset and grumpy Rose. Mary had told Emma that Mr Ross had called off the engagement and had broken things off with Rose.

Emma has absconded Michael and Ivy from Nanny Jean and her companion. Michael laughs and gurgles at what he can see from his pram while Ivy runs a little unsteadily beside her mother and brother, staring at everything around them with glee. Emma watches softly as she watches Billy holds Sybbie and plays a throwing game by holding onto his daughter's arms and pretending she's the one throwing them.

Suddenly, Emma hears Mr Carson yelling, "It's His Lordship! His Lordship's back! Tell the others! His Lordship's back! James!"

Emma turns to see a couple of cars can be seen moving up the drive, laden with luggage and stares in surprise. It really is Robert, back from America. He stands up as soon as the open car he's riding in has come to a stop and waves his hat cheerily. Thomas jumps out from the front seat to open the car door for him.

Emma hands over the children to the Nanny before hurrying over with the others.

Edith is the first to arrive. She greets her father, laughing. "How can you be here?! Why didn't you send a message?" Robert laughs, too, and kisses her cheek. "We would have made such a fuss! You're a beast!"

"Oh, not quite a beast, I hope. I wanted to surprise you and I think I have." Robert replies joyfully. "Hello Emma."

He surprises her with an embrace but she recovers and beams back. "It's good to see you've survived your voyage."

"Quite."

Meanwhile, Mary has arrived. In the background, the servants all hurry towards them too. Mr Molesley and Jimmy move off to the cars to take care of the luggage. Mr Carson and Mr Bates stand ready, waiting for orders.

"Papa, you should have let us know!" Mary says. Robert kisses his daughter's cheek. "When did you get in?"

"This morning. I'd forgotten about the bazaar. I was right not to distract you all from your labours." Billy and Tom walk up and Robert shakes each of their hands cordially.

"What happened to Uncle Harold?" Mary asks.

"A reprimand, but nothing more." Robert replies with a sigh.

"So, it was worth your going." Tom says.

"I don't think I made a bit of difference, but let's hold on to that fiction."

Emma moves over to Thomas who's unstrapping the cases. "You've returned then?" She remarks with a grin.

Thomas gives her a warm smile. "I have."

"How was it?" Mr Mosesley asks excitedly as he and Jimmy join them.

"Interesting. Very modern, and very interesting." Thomas remarks. "How's it been here?"

"Not very interesting and not very modern." Jimmy replies gloomily. Thomas chuckles and, with a nod to Emma, walks off with Mr Molesley and Jimmy and the luggage.

Emma turns and smiles softly as she watches Robert and Cora exchange a passionate kiss and then hold each other in their arms, looking at each other lovingly.

——

A short while later, Emma is with Edith, Violet, Rosamund and Mary. Emma spots Lord Gillingham walking among the bazaar-goers.

"Isn't that Lord Gillingham?" She points out to the others.

"What? It can't be. Where?" Emma indicates and Mary immediately walks towards him.

"What does Miss Lane Fox think about it? That's what I wonder." Edith remarks.

"I agree. He's the most unconvincing fiancé I've ever come across." Violet adds.

"Perhaps she doesn't know." Rosamund suggests.

"She better. It'd be worse if she was none the wiser." Emma says. She watches with a frown when she notes how dead serious Gillingham is.

She's even more concerned when Mary pulls her and Anna to the side and tells them the news. Green is dead. He was in Piccadilly when he slipped, or stumbled, and fell into the road.

"You mean... he fell into the road, and... he was hit? Yesterday?" Anna questions as if to be sure. Emma doesn't blame her.

"By a bus or lorry, apparently." Mary adds.

"And someone saw this?"

"The pavement was crowded. Lots of people saw it."

"That's a relief." Anna says. Emma looks at her sharply. She doesn't think...

"What do you mean?" Mary asks.

"Nothing. I don't mean anything." Anna says quickly and walks away.

"You don't think..." Emma murmurs.

"I hope not." Mary replies.

They're interrupted by Charles Blake, who has apparently been magically drawn back to Downton today, too. "Mary! Did your mother warn you I was coming?"

Mary quickly puts on a greeting smile. "She did. Why are you back in Yorkshire so soon?"

"I'd no sooner got back than I was despatched to a tenant farmers' convention in Whitby. But it's over now, so I'll go home from here." Mr Blake replies.

Emma quickly excuses herself and walks over to Tom who holds Ivy next to the hook and duck game.

Tom immediately notices her distressed look. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Emma hurriedly changes the topic. "Where's Michael?"

Tom frowns but replies, "With Nanny. Emma? What's going on?"

"It's nothing, really. I'll just go and get him." Emma quickly walks away feeling guilty for lying to him like that.

——

Robert walks across the bazaar with a glass in his hand and joins his mother and Emma, who's cradling Michael, at the table under a canopy.

"God, what a relief to be able to drink in public without a Policeman pouncing." Robert remarks, raising his glass in a toast. "Down with Prohibition."

Emma hums. "Ah, yes prohibition. Caused more problems than solved them."

Violet looks at her son, aghast. "You can't mean you never had a drink all the time you were there."

Robert shrugs. "Harold has his uses."

"I suppose he does." Violet comments with a chuckle. "And let us hope they both leave us in peace."

"A slim hope, I'm afraid. Martha wants to bring him over next summer for Rose's coming-out ball." Robert tells them.

Emma pulls a face. "Why?" She has nothing against the Crawley's American relations, just the coming out into society all high-class girls have to do for some reason.

"She says she wants to see another London Season before she dies."

Violet groans. Emma sniggers to herself and, sensing her laughter, Michael joins in with a giggle of his own.

——

The bazaar is ending. The servants are packing away and the bunting is taken down. Hall boys and estate workers are taking down the stalls and carrying chairs and benches away.

Mr Blake and Mary return to where the family and their guests are assembled under one of the canopies that are still standing.

"Where have you two been hiding?" Gillingham remarks to them.

"In plain view, where all good tricksters hide." Mr Blake replies.

Robert arrives, triumphantly carrying two bottles of champagne. "Look what I've found. Billy, will you see if there are some clean glasses on that table?" He hands both to Billy who happily takes them and turns to Cora. "Well done, my dear. A real triumph." Everyone starts clapping.

"Ah, she did have help you know." Emma huffs jokingly causing the rest of the group to chuckle. She gives Michael to Nanny so she's able to accept the glass that Robert fills for her.

"I hope so. I've told them they can clear up the rest tomorrow." Cora says.

"I thought that was the best bazaar I've known here." Isobel compliments.

"Certainly." Violet agrees before turning to Robert, as he fills a glass for her. "At least since your father and I were running it." Everyone laughs.

"And now, as the Prodigal Husband home from the sea, let me raise a glass to my extraordinary wife," Robert fills his and Cora's glasses too, "who can clearly manage far better in my absence." He raises his glass. "Cora."

Everyone joins in the toast.

"Very well done, Lady Grantham. And now, I'm afraid, I should be going." Mr Blake reluctantly says.

"It was so kind of you to come." Cora says.

"I don't suppose I could ask you for a lift this time?" Gillingham asks. "I came by train, but I'd much rather drive."

"Certainly."

Emma raises an eyebrow at this. Certainly sounds like it could be a bit of an awkward ride.

"I'll see you off."

Robert looks after Mary and the two men bewildered. "What sort of ménage has that turned into while I've been away?"

None of the remaining group is going to answer that as they shrug and smile, but they all watch Mary and her suitors out, very curious to find out the answer.

——

A/N: Please leave comments on how you're enjoying this story and what you think.

#downton abbey

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