#sun = rhine and. her kids

[monards]

i think its super cool how we have three primary groups/individuals, or whatever you want to call them, in khaneri'ah that all coincide with eachother. like (crimson) moon, eclipse, and sun. hello!!! moon & sun = eclipse ;; do you know how cool that is to me.

[eviesessays]

38. What is the farthest you have ever traveled?

In 1974, my husband Colonel Philip Pahl was about to be transferred to Hanscom AFB in Bedford, MA.  I was devastated initially as I hoped never to leave my job in Washington.  Easter vacation was approaching and Phil suggested we take advantage of flying on available space for the Easter vacation.  Many more opportunities were available from nearby Andrews AFB than would be at Hanscom.  Heather chose not to go and stayed with a neighbor who had a daughter her age.  Three days before school vacation began we learned that we would be flying to Frankfort, Germany the next day.   We were going with Phil’s son David and my three youngest, Jaylyn, Robin and Peter.  I cautioned them that we were flying free and they were not to utter a word of complaint about accommodations.  As it turned out we were going to Frankfort on an Air Force One backup that was on its way to Vienna to pick up congressmen there for a conference.  It was very comfortable with leather bucket seats and treats replenished by airmen.  Peter came over and whispered to me, “Mom, this isn’t bad at all.”  I guess not.

We rented a car in Frankfort and dared to venture out onto the autoban with no speed limit signs in sight and none seeming to be in use.  Having no command of German we ate some strange meals but what we ate was delicious. We drove along the Rhine and toured a very old castle. We had a tour guide who was glad that there  were Americans and Brits in the group as he did speak English.  However, his strong accent well disguised his bilingualism in Peter’s estimation.  We spent three days in Frankfort and then flew to Madrid, Spain.  We immediately headed to the center to visit the palace but this was Holy Saturday in a very Catholic country.  We were immediately caught up in a sea of people drifting through the streets, dressed in black and praying their rosaries.  We drifted along until we were able to duck into a small cafe that had wonderful pastries and tables to stand at to eat. There we met a Russian visitor with whom Phil struck up a conversation.  Phil had studied Russian at Annapolis and the two of them began quietly singing a little Russian folk song.  at the end he remarked that if people could just get together and sing their folk songs there would be no need for war.  It was a touching moment.

We took the train to Segovia to visit Isabella’s castle where she bid Columbus goodbye before he left for America. There was an old looking woman at the castle gate selling trinkets.  She was dressed all in black and wore a hood. She had a long nose with a long hair growing out the end.  We visited the 700 year old aquaduct that was still in use.  On our return, when Peter’s friend from next door asked what we had seen Peter  told him in detail about the lady selling trinkets outside the palace gate.

We visited the Prado and experiences more of Madrid and then took a train and headed south.  We were advised not to go to Torremolinos as it was overrun by Americans. We headed South to Malaga.  There we visited a very old church and picked oranges off a tree.  We then went on to Fuengerola to our three bedroom apartment on the fifth floor.  It had three balconies looking down on the beach.  We watched an impromptu volley ball game going on below.  Our kids soon joined kids from Germany, Scotland, England and Norway.  the activities director spoke to all in English. The burning question  our kids were asked was, “Is Nixon guilty?”  We could not escape that which consumed all our newscasts at home.  It was the height of the Watergate scandal.

We spent five days in this beautiful place in the sun and  then began to wind our way back home.  The train took us past miles of olive orchards and back to Torrejon AFB where we boarded a cargo plane.  We were strapped to the sides of the plane facing an enormous tightly bound mass of cargo.  The roar of the engines prohibited conversation.  We were headed to Dover, Delaware.  There we were met by our neighbor who drove us home.  

It was a splendid vacation. We had flown 4055 miles to Frankfort and 1478 miles to Madrid. It was 331 miles to Malaga and a few more to Fuengerola.  It was the same 331 back to Madrid and 3781 to Washington. We had traveled more than 10,359 miles .  It was a totally wonderful experience.

I have had many vacations to Italy, France, Croatia, Montenegro, Bosnia Herzegovina, England, Scotland and Ireland.  I have made several trips to the Canadian Rockies. I have seen the Rockies with Jaylyn, Anne and Diggs.  Peter, Jenn, Kalote and I made the trip from Calgary through the Columbia Ice Fields where we walked out onto the Athabasca Glacier which is now rapidly receding. At Jasper, we turned West and headed to Quesnel for the wedding of Peter’s cousin 

Brian Kolody.  If I were able I would do that trip again on a moment’s notice.  

Although not nearly the longest, one of my favorite trip was to Ireland with Anne.  The car rental place was unable to provide our economy car in our contract so we were forced to drive for ten days in a brand new Jaguar.  Anne could not have been happier. We sampled Guinness beer and Jamison whiskey. We drove to Waterford, the Dingle peninsula, past the hills of Mohar, ferried across Galway Bay and on to Kylemore castle.  We wound our way back to Dublin and our flight home.  Ireland is beautiful.  We were both sad at leaving.  It was  not by far, my longest trip but very memorable.

[junkdrawernoggin]

All of my kids!

So technically I lied in the last post. Myles I only have character creation photos of and originally she was a tiefling, but I forgot she's an elf now. Whoops

Anyway here is every single PC I've ever made.

Top Row:

Cerise was my first ever run. I think she was a light cleric. I *might* have made it to the druids grove with her but I'm pretty sure I just played the tutorial. Cerise just came from my obsession with cherries.

Talryne Duskryn! "Pain Blooded." Tav, Oath of devotion paladin. I still consider her my canon tav run. Love her dearly, but also haven't played her in months. She's in act 3 but hasn't done anything.

Vilara! I cannot remember what her name means. Tav, OoD paladin. I actually really love her because I really experimented with roleplaying her. She's a truly good person where Tal was more mixed. Romanced Gale with her. I think she finished Act 2?

Middle Row:

Poetry Lightwish. Tav OoD paladin tiefling. She is my multiplayer character and I've only played her 3 times I think.

Minot Rhine. Tav Assassin Rogue tiefling. Wanted to play rogue and romance Wyll. I did really love playing rogue. I only stopped playing her because I wanted to try dark urge. I think she is in Act 2?

Haeliiv'a Anchev! "Marked Warrior of Destruction." Dark Urge War Cleric. Truly my babygirl. I think her run alone ended up being almost 250 hours. My first game completion.

Bottom Row: All created this week

Umbraea. Bard. Thrown into the sun because I was so frusturated I wasn't enjoying the game.

Rylmer'ryn. "Branded Weapon of Doom." War Cleric durge. Bad guy run going after Minthara.

Felynafae. "Pale Slayer." War cleric durge. tactician run.

So yeah I think it would be funny to do a story with all of them meeting.

[alpaca-writes]

Mystics, Chapter 13

When Arch becomes hired on at Mystics by the strange shopkeeper Lyrem Nomadus, everything seems to be going well- in fact, their life nearly becomes perfection. Soon enough, however, Arch realizes that perhaps not everything is as perfect as it seems….

Read Chapters 1-12: Masterlist

Taglist: @myst-in-the-mirror, @livingforthewhump

CW: swearing, memory whump kind of, not much else actually.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN: A WANING CRESCENT

“Say cheese!”

“Cheese!”

There was a flash of light.

Shazia threw her arms around Arch’s neck as Lyrem pulled away to inspect his photo. Their graduation robes weighed them down heavily and it was hot in the upper floor of the theatre, but they both managed a wide grin for the camera regardless. Arch pulled off their graduation cap and ruffled their short feathery hair after the insistent hug. Then, they played with the little green tassel on top, weaving it through a finger as their diploma was held in the same hand.

The idle twitching ceased as Benjamin strode up the stairs to the third level of the building abandoning his parents on the second floor. His freckled face and mess of dark auburn hair cradled his excitable expression about the chartered limos arriving. Arch handed off their cap and diploma to Lyrem, and pulled off the robe with a grateful sigh throwing it over the return desk. Their mauve rhine-stoned romper twinkled in the yellow lighting as well as their short white heels to match.

“Wait,” Lyrem commanded to the three before they were to abandon the rest of the adults for the night.

Arch stood in place. Lyrem wanted another photo.

He took his share of pictures and ushered the graduates off to enjoy their own night. Arch deserved a night of reckless fun. They had been so down lately. Likely because of all the changes they had been going through. Graduating high school was an exciting event, but also one that would mean the end of many friendships, and the end of a regular schedule. For Arch, it would also mean the end of a normal world. The last specks of their innocence would be tossed away like their graduation cap into the crowd. Lyrem held onto it now. He held onto it and would probably put it on display.

“Stay safe and stay out of trouble!” He shouted, seeing the last fluff of hair disappear down the steps as Arch turned the corner. He smiled to himself endearingly and sighed.

“Kids,” a voice tutted behind him. “Can’t live with them, can’t live without them.”

Lyrem straightened to a rigid board at the sound.

“Hekate,” he addressed, slowly, he turned toward the Goddess of the Moon. She watched him like a mother seeing their infant walk for the first time. A pitiful, sweet look it was. He grimaced toward her. “To what, do I owe the pleas”-

His voice cut out. Rude.

She breathed in deeply… and out. In the lighting and dispersing foot traffic, she very nearly glowed in her elegance, though she was wearing only a casual business outfit, striped trousers and a simple button up blouse, it made her beautifully dark complexion pop.

“I do enjoy your silence. Walk with me?”

If Lyrem had the ability to make a sound, Hekate may have heard a grumble from him. But he did as she requested, and followed the Goddess down the wide staircase, causing himself to wince with every third step. His knees were not quite as spry and healthy as they once were, if he were able to, he would have requested the use of the elevator instead. She descended the stairs elegantly beside him, as if she were floating.

“You seem to be happy,” She commented. “I like to see my children happy.”

Lyrem nodded, feigning a smile toward her as he clung to the banister. She wasn’t so easily fooled.

“Unfortunately, the time has come for you to deliver me what you owe.”

“What I owe?” His voice worked again, a single chance from her to provide the correct response. Knowing he failed, he didn’t bother to speak another time.

“Just because the woman you raised from death left you for another man, does not mean that your debt has been forgiven, Lyrem.”

He nodded, understandingly as they met the bottom of the stairs finally. His legs, thankful for the relief.

She smiled warmly. “You are in debt with several other God’s and Great Spirits as well as myself, are you not?”

Lyrem looked off to the glass doors; the last of the limousines drove off into the evening twilight. He refused to answer her, having one God after his literal heart was bad enough, to be reminded that there was yet another, was a kick in the pants.

“Hades demands your life and gained power as well, does he not?”

His head snapped back to her, his eyes wider, his thoughts and reckless nature betraying him. His voice worked again.

“How do you know about that?”

“You really believed you could trap the God of the Underworld in a Labyrinth?”

“Fuck.”

Hekate laughed.

“Do not fret, my child. He cannot reach the surface and so you are safe as long as you can avoid his… chosen emissaries.”

Lyrem nodded. “Well, that I can do.”

“Hm.” Hakate voiced absently. Strolling outside, she stared toward the west, where the sun was sinking behind the city buildings. “You’ve avoided paying your debts with many of us. Whether changing your name to avoid the fae, or substituting the sacrifice of your own life with the lives of others, or by throwing us into your little holes with help from silly little demons…”

Lyrem remained silent, waiting for the Goddess to finish.

“But from you, I have seen neither hide nor hair. I have been waiting for a scheme to arise, I was curious to see what you might come up with to shake me off your tail.”

“I don’t scheme,” he spouted at her, offended. “I plan.”

She smirked, yet again. Nothing ever seemed to upset this one. Nothing ever offended, or caused her to stray from her task at hand. Perhaps that was what disturbed Lyrem about her so. She never seemed to care. And yet she cared.

“There is no plan?” She asked. “Not for me?”

Lyrem fell into silence again. It was so tempting to tell her everything. She drew a calmness out of him that very few were ever capable of. He cleared his throat and straightened his posture.

“You gave me more than anyone else could. I would never trade my years with Maria for anything. I would not try evade what I owe to you for that favour.” He shuddered. Arch wasn’t ready yet. This was an earlier visit than he had been planning for, but Aurelius would tell him to accept his fate and be thankful for it, so, Lyrem tried. “If what you demand from me Hekate, is my life, my power, and essence, then I will go with you tonight and I will not challenge my fate any longer. I respect you too highly for that.”

“That is reassuring, but not what I need from you,” She interrupted him, touched by the gentle mention of his ex-wife. She stared at him expectantly.

“There is a plan.” Lyrem succumbed. “A retirement plan… I knew that eventually, one of my creditors would come to collect. Whether it be you or some other”- he sighed, and shook his head. “It’s Arch.”

“Ah, your latest…” Hekate raised a thick dark brow, “investment.”

“That might be one way of describing them, yes.” Stoically, as he tried, his composure faltered, ever so slightly.

“You care about them?”

“I didn’t mean to.”

“Hm.”

Lyrem stopped at the road side, seeing his SUV parked across the street, he pulled his keys from his back pocket.

“Why are you here, Hekate?” he finally managed. “If not to settle my debt, then why have you come?”

She sighed, staring up to the sky above them that was growing different shades. In a couple hours, the world would be plunging into a deep darkness.

“I simply wanted to understand.” She spoke gently, then addressed him with a warmness that nearly made him buckle under her gaze. “I wanted to understand you… I am forgiving your debt.”

Lyrem blinked, taken aback by the sudden generosity.

“Excuse me?” He voiced.

She nodded to him.

“I… I don’t understand.” Lyrem stared at her, suspicious of her words. Disbelieving of her decision. “You gave me Maria back. I cannot ever repay you for that”-

“Exactly.” She said knowingly. “And you think me to take your little friend’s life in replacement of your own? That would be well and truly barbaric- not my style at all. You know this.

And I see now that there was once a time when you made deals to prosper, to control of the world around you; you made agreements to fill your pockets and to bring you pleasure- and that was with all sorts of spirits and demons and demi-gods”- she huffed. “But with me, you asked for your love to be returned to you. You loved another so much that you even allowed her to leave you for another man. I never once thought that you were capable of such a noble deed.

And here you are, trying to live a part of life that you never thought you could have… Do you know what is more valuable to a Goddess than the saintly wishes of a good man?”

Lyrem was confused. She had this effect on him the first time as well.

“… No.”

“The saintly wishes of a bad man.”

“Ah.”

“If there is one thing you can do in return for me, it’s to take care of those that care about you. Pay off your debts with the others, be accountable for what you have done.”

Lyrem tilted his head slightly.

“… But that isn’t all necessary, is it?”

She smirked, and looked into him one final time.

“Goodbye Lyrem, your debt to me is forgiven.”

She melted into the darkness until nothing remained behind, leaving Lyrem to ponder what this change in heart would well and truly mean for himself… and more importantly, Arch.

[johannstutt413]

(HAPPY BIRTHDAY BEST OWL!!!!! Continuing from this post)

It was another beautiful day at Rhodes Island, specifically in the Doctor’s room. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and- wait, no, that wasn’t the birds. Just his Liberi alarm clock. “Hrrngh...Snooze.”

“Request denied.” Ptilopsis’ chirping took a lighter tone as she giggled. “You have (1) scheduled appointment.”

“Appointment? I didn’t schedule anything.” He lifted his head to look at her…

...and she was frowning at him. “You have (1) missed appointment,” she pouted.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” The Doctor cupped her face with his hand. “Happy birthday, Tilly.”

“You did remember~” She held his hand where it was, twittering merrily with her eyes closed.

His other hand, however, moved with an entirely other agenda, finding its way to her side and settling there. “I have a present for you.”

“Every day with you is a present.” Nonetheless, that got her attention. “Proceed with breakfast protocols?”

“How about we treat ourselves today? There’s a restaurant with a table reserved for us, after all.”

Tilly beamed at him. “Date registered. Resume altered start-of-day routines?”

“Might as well.” He gave her a kiss - the real best part of waking up - which of course had an inevitable chain effect. Eventually, they got up, and once they were ready they walked to where the Doctor had made their reservations. “Do you remember our first date?”

“...Hmm. 404: Data not found.” She frowned, troubled; normally, it took longer for memories to escape her. 

The Doctor squeezed her hand. “It’s alright, dear. This is the restaurant we went to on that date. Hopefully they don’t remember that one thing...”

“Did something notable occur?” When he responded with totally-innocuous whistling, Tilly giggled. “Alright, Doctor, keep your secrets~”

“If it comes up, I’ll tell you. Good morning. Table for two, Doctor ->#@-*+%&!=!VT?”

The waiter stared at his reservation list, clearly lacking the caffeine necessary to decipher that; luckily, Ptilopsis was able to direct him to the right entry, and shortly they were seated near a window overlooking the sky beside them. “Did we sit by the window on our first date?”

“At this table, actually. I kinda wanted to match it more than not,” he admitted, “so it’s a little ironic this was the date you forgot...Ah, yes, I’d like the double eggwich with a side of chocolate chip pancakes. Tilly?”

“Scanning, scanning...the Early Bird Full Plate, please.”

As the waiter walked off, the Doctor chuckled. “‘Early Bird.’ You’re more of a nocturnal creature, aren’t you?”

“I ordered it specifically for the contrast,” she smiled. “It amused you?”

“Definitely. Is there anything you want to do today?”

Tilly was about to shake her head, but there was something that came to mind. “One thing...Formulating query.”

“Take your time,” he encouraged. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“...Would you consider being a father something you wish to be?”

 ...Huh. “I’ve never really thought about it before. Do you want to have kids?”

“Yes.” She fiddled with the tie around the silverware-laden napkin. “But only with you. If you’re willing, I’d like to try tonight.”

“That certainly cuts a few steps out of the process. Heh. We’ll have time to prepare before they’re born, so...yes. Yes, I’d like to raise at least one kid with you.”

She chirped triumphantly. “Yay! I’m so happy.”

“Me, too.” The Doctor smiled, albeit more subdued than he was feeling. “You’re using more first-person than usual.”

“I am? Oh, yes, I am. I don’t hear the voices nearly as loudly today.”

That was music to his ears. “Is that normal on your birthday?”

“No - in fact, usually, it’s the reverse.” Tilly shrugged. “It’s not difficult to see why, however.”

“It isn’t? Did they change your treatment plan recently?”

She shook her head, a knowing smile on her face. “No, dear, they haven’t. Two more guesses~”

“Hmm...” He looked her over. “Are things better with the rest of Rhine Labs?”

“I’m not actively overseeing Saria and Silence’s squabbling, true, but that’s not it, either. One more try.”

The Doctor stared at her for a moment before, at last, it clicked. “You really mean...am I that good for you?”

“You make me feel loved, and you’ve shared your world so openly with me.” Tilly leaned forward, resting her chin on one hand while stretching the other out to him. “There’s no better medicine than that.”

“...I’m going to cry in this restaurant today, aren’t I?” He sniffled, adjusting his glasses as he took her hand - and set a small box in her palm.

She looked at the box, still covered by the Doctor’s hand, and felt a blue screen coming on. “Is...This is a ring box.”

“Happy birthday, dear.” He slid the box out of her hand to open it, showing her the ring inside. “Do you want to go to the officiate today? I have the paperwork for them to sign off today.”

“Yes...Entering Power Save mode.”

The Doctor patted her hand. “It’s alright. I’ll let you know when our food comes.”

“Mmhmm...zzzz...” As Ptilopsis fell asleep, right then and there, one final thought passed through her head. ‘I love him so much.’

“Love you, too,” he whispered, wiping a tear from his eye...

[dragonrajafanfiction]

Dragon Dancer IV: Zero

I heard the wind through the trees first. It carried the scent of pine needles to my nose and that opened my eyes. Darkness still reigned, so not much time had passed. I sat up and was steadied by a pair of hands.

I looked up into pair of reptilian eyes and gasped. Lu Mingfei was still more dragon than human, leaning in the shadow of a large tree. He held up a finger to his lips, curving a sharp claw. He was breathing heavily, like he’d run the whole way here.

Were we hiding? I tried to get up and he held me down. His grip tightened and he shook his head. He suddenly crouched, his wings folded up against his back.  A helicopter shined spotlight over head.

Fenrir’s bone armor had turned black and had was falling away from him in pieces. He’d used the Word Judgement against the members of dragonslayers come to kill him. Everywhere I had looked, there was nothing but dead bodies falling from the sky.

Could it be that he had expended all his remaining power? He was only one quarter of his strength. With Fenrir’s bones crumbling, he must have used all the power in them as well.

“They’ll be using infrared.” I whispered. “You’ll have to let me teleport you.”

“First, I need the bones of Constantine.” He whispered back to me.

“Do you know where they are?” 

He nodded once. 

The sound of the helicopter swung away from us and we relaxed for a moment. 

He looked into my eyes. “No matter what... don’t come out of cover.”

“Mingfei...”

“I’ll have to face them. I can hear... they’ve surrounded us. They’re coming.”

“Are you going to die?”

Mingfei lifted one claw and drew it along the contours of my face. Then he stood up and walked away from me. I was lying, propped up against a tree, half buried in sticks and leaves. I stayed quiet.

The trees thinned out in the distance. The roar of the helicopter returned, incredibly loud, throwing down gales of wind that sent the forest swaying. Someone jumped from the helicopter, directly in front of Mingfei.

This shadow of a figure tossed aside his trenchcoat, and I saw a person who was only slightly less of a dragon than Mingfei was. Even in the dark of night, his skin was so pale it practically glowed. His hands reflected the moonlight, glittering with fine white scales.

I swallowed. Was this one of them? The dragonslayers of Beowulf? I shrank lower to the ground, doing my best not to be seen.

The helicopter was rotating in the sky, making slight adjustments in angle and altitude. A sound, like a sharp whistle of air reached my ears and the sight of a long dark harpoon ripping through Mingfei’s back reached my eyes. It sliced clear through him, exited out the other side. The tip opened into array of hooks that bit into his chest when when the helicopter lifted. Mingfei was taken off his feet and left dangling in the air in front of the man.

The attack was so swift and unexpected that Lu Mingfei couldn’t react. I heard him gasping, struggling against the harpoon that held him. His body suddenly stiffened and he began to howl and scream, his voice higher pitched than humanly possible. I saw smoke rising from his body and realized that they were sending electricity through his body at a rate strong enough to kill someone. A light, bright and pulsing like the sun appeared at the point of contact and I was forced to look away.

After an interminable amount of time, the torment stopped and Lu Mingfei was limp. 

The man strode forward and knelt down, rubbing the tips of his finger into the ground. They came up dark. He ran his tongue over them and let out a sigh closing his eyes.

I lay low, suppressing the small whimpers from coming out of my throat, but I couldn’t hold back my tears. Grief welled in me like a breaking tsunami I had to hold my breath to keep from screaming. My nails dug into the ground. I had to stay still and quiet but all I wanted to do is rip the world in half. I pressed my face to the ground and tried to control my breath. But I inhaled a long involuntary gasp that would have been audible had the sound of the helicopter not concealed it.

“Are you surprised? You shouldn’t be. We caught your brother like this you know.” The man raised his voice so Mingfei could hear him over the sound of the machine. 

“We heard that a Dragon King may have escaped a secret lab in Siberia. We couldn’t just sit back and watch. We called out all the elites. Even some of my family were there.”

“It was an extremely tragic battle then as well. He was different from all the dragon swe had contact with. He was very adaptable and very cunning. Like a human. He wasn’t as strong as Norton or Fenrir. But with a simple dagger, he killed hundreds of A-level and S-level secret party members along the way. Just when the mission was nearly defeated, we received a high level order to clear the field as we were going to deploy our most powerful weapon, even if it meant killing other nearby party members.”

“The weapon was a person who could use the Speaking Spirit ‘Rhine’. This power can only be used once in a lifetime, as it obliterates the user in what can only be described as a nuclear explosion.”

“This kid had many ways to escape, but the Rhine user had captured his companion, a little girl. Then he did something that was completely inconsistent with dragon standards. He carried the daggers and kept going. He killed everyone standing in his way. The people he killed were actually decoys. Distractions. He didn’t expect that  what waited for him was a nuclear explosion.”

I lifted my face from the dirt. Mingfei was still hanging limp, his eyes closed.

The man let out a deep sigh. “What a lonely child... unwilling to give up his last companion.”

“A hundred square miles of forest was burned. The child was lying on the ground. He was still alive but the girl had escaped somehow. He was able to take “Rhine” at close range but was immobilized. So we plunged the legendary weapon, Gungnir, directly into his heart.”

Mingfei lifted his head at that.

“Have you seen it? The Secret Party collected it ages ago. Anyone who contacts it dies immediately. But not this child. Its lethal effect was balanced by the boy’s own vitality. He can’t die, but he can’t wake up either. But you... you are not as strong as he is.”

“The people... in the helicopters. You sacrificed their lives .... too?” Mingfei rasped.  He could barely speak, the effort of breathing put pressure on the hooks in his chest with every agonizing inhalation. His words came out in a rush to relieve the pain. 

“Of course. They knew what they were facing. They expected to die and were quite willing to do so. Your powers are incomplete, but you would still have to be weakened for us to capture and kill you.”

“If... I hadn’t... killed them...  What would you have done?”

The man barked out an incredulous laugh. “If you hadn’t... Dragons are bloodthirsty. It is your instinct to kill. Such hypotheticals are pointless.”

He reached into his coat and pulled out what looked like a short sword. It’s cutting edge glowed the bright red of sage stone.

“Before you... before.... you kill me... answer the question.”

The man said nothing. Nothing that I could hear anyway. If he did answer, it was drowned out by the pulsing reverberation of gunfire. Bright beams of light erupted from the trees and impacted the helicopter. Its rotors suddenly stopped and it began to fall. I was scooped up only a few feet off the ground by someone, a young woman who deposited me out of the danger of falling debris.

Her blond braids whipped from her face, her cold gaze faced forward as she raised the automatic weapon at the man and squeezed the trigger. The sound was impossibly loud and I clapped my ears over my head and clambered to my feet. The man pulled out his gun but dropped it and staggered backwards.

The young woman, who looked like she was barely out of high school, coolly reloaded, walking forward, firing, her face impassive until she reached his body.

She reloaded again, fired again until the heat distorted the muzzle and the gun misfired.

I rushed to Mingfei’s side and then I heard voices in the woods. The girl dropped her automatic weapon and pulled out twin pistols. She stepped on the chain holding Mingfei and fired until the bullets snapped it apart. She looked at me, her expression icy in her blue eyes. “Get him out of here. You see that rise in the distance?” 

I turned my head, following her gaze. 

“There’s a truck. The skeletons are there. Get him to them.”

I struggled to lift his limp form but I knew how to do a fireman’s carry. “Thanks... whoever you are.”

She shoved in another clip. “Call me Zero.”

[jrgsportsbuzz]

Diener drops 28, shorthanded Cedarburg beats West Bend East

WEST BEND – Clare Diener’s shooting stroke is renowned throughout the state, and it was on full display again on Thursday night.

Cedarburg’s junior forward knocked down six 3-pointers and dropped a game-high 28 points to help the Bulldogs break open a close game in the second half and beat West Bend East, 60-48. Diener hit three triples in each half and the ones in the second helped the shorthanded road squad turn a two-point lead into a 14-point cushion in a matter of seven minutes.

“Clare could always shoot, but now, she’s just bigger and stronger and she can do more things,” said Cedarburg coach Dave Ross of Diener. “She can get off shots that, when she was younger, she couldn’t do. You really can’t cover her. She’s going to score.”

“It’s the same as all the rest of our games,” Suns’ coach Asia Rhines-Malone said. “Our defense has to get better. Our overall basics have to get better. We can’t allow one player to beat us. Right now, in practice, we’re emphasizing the basics and we’re going to keep on pounding the basics until it clicks.”

The Bulldogs were playing without six of their varsity players.

“We only had a couple days to prepare with a couple of the JV kids and a couple of our kids that haven’t played much,” Ross said. “They did their roles so well tonight. It was very exciting, as a coach, to see kids understand what to do and what not to do.”

“I knew I had to step up even more with half our team being out,” Diener said. “I just looked for the open opportunities and took big shots with confidence that I could knock them down.”

Diener helped the Bulldogs get the early momentum in the first five minutes. She scored the game’s first basket on a layup off an inbounds pass before knocking down a 3-pointer from the right wing to give Cedarburg an early 7-4 lead.

East answered with triples from sophomore guards Cadence Xiong and Sommer Dricken to take a 3-point lead of their own. Both teams traded blows over the next five minutes, with the Suns holding a slight advantage throughout most of the frame. Xiong and Dricken each hit two more threes and Diener countered with two of her own to force a 20-20 tie with just under seven and one half minutes to play in the half. Xiong led East with 14 points.

East seized momentum during the next three minutes, as senior wing Sarah Stapelfeldt scored two baskets in the post and Xiong added a jumper and a free throw for a 7-0 Suns run.

“I think, in the first half, we played some unselfish basketball,” Rhines-Malone said. “We were passing the ball around, getting that ball movement and getting those open shots.”

The Bulldogs closed the half on a 12-2 run to lead by three at the break. Two transition baskets and three free throws by freshman wing Mary Stroebel led the Cedarburg late charge. Stroebel finished second for the Bulldogs with 14 points.

“Their starting point guard (Xiong) went out and then we started to change our defense,” said Ross of his team’s late first-half burst. “We did some different subbing and that allowed us to change the pace of the game.”

Diener took charge in the second half with help from sophomore guard Reagan Pahl. Pahl knocked down a triple to begin a 16-4 run that produced a 48-34 Cedarburg advantage. Diener keyed the stretch with her second-half 3-pointers. Pahl, who was third for the Bulldogs with 12 points, finished the flurry with a driving layup with just under ten minutes left.

“I think Diener stepped up and my kids just weren’t able to make those stops,” Rhines-Malone said. “We tried to switch on her, but we just weren’t quick enough.”

Xiong and freshman guard Sara Doedens each hit triples over the next minute to get the Suns back within ten. However, a 10-2 Bulldogs’ run effectively put the game out of reach. Cedarburg channeled their inside attack for this spurt, as four players each had layups. Diener finished the stretch with a reverse layup to push the lead to 60-42.

“We put a huge emphasis on moving the ball,” said Diener of the final run. “We didn’t need to take hard shots. We just needed to look for an open layup because we could break down the defense.”

East scored the final six points, including a 3-pointer from senior guard Veronica Sadownikow. However, both teams were scoreless in the final 2:25, preserving the Bulldogs’ 12-point win.

[stcrr]

elle fanning. cis female. she/her.  ／  lorelei “lorrie” gunther just pulled up blasting which witch by florence + the machine  — that song is so them ! you know, for a twenty-three year old musician, i’ve heard they’re really -reclusive, but that they make up for it by being so +observant. if i had to choose three things to describe them, i’d probably say chipped glitter nail polish, a silver gilt mirror, losing yourself in the beat of the music. here’s to hoping they don’t cause too much trouble ! ( ally, 22, est, she/her )

me: i don’t have a type when it comes to muses! also me: unveils this new muse that is also introverted and anxious but this time with more glitter. anyways, meet lorelei, starr to her fans, and lorrie to her friends, an observant girl, gifted mimic, misfit, mirror, and musician. kind of a jem and the holograms/hannah montana/perfect blue hybrid. details under the cut, like for me to hyu to plot !! 

(also her pinterest im really proud of it you guys)

statistics.

full name. lorelei amelia gunther. nicknames. lorrie. aliases. starr. occupation. singer-songwriter. age. twenty-three. date of birth. february 1st, 1997.  nationality. american. ethnicity. white (austrian and irish).  gender | orientation. cis female | queer. hometown. boston, ma. zodiac sign. aquarius sun, scorpio moon, pisces rising career/voice claim. lorde.

height. 5′9 weight. 120lbs build. willowy.  distinguishing features. wide eyes, full lips, constant bags, probably has glitter in her hair.  health. 7/10; has no major illnesses but eats like shit, has a whack sleep schedule, is a dysfunctional adult basically. she’s also big depressed but you know how it be. 

positive traits. ambitious, intuitive, observant, imaginative, independent,  neutral traits. talkative, intense, impressionable,  negative traits. anxious, avoidant, moody, secretive, resentful, aloof, 

likes. the nighttime, storms, baggy clothes, mountains, weed, lsd, books, blanket forts, lying on the floor, singing, cryptids, cemeteries,  dislikes. being herself, deadlines, dolls/puppets, the paparazzi, social media, planning ahead, the outdoors, conflict, the beach, 

history. 

(tw suicide mention, anxiety attack) (tldr at the bottom)

her mother called her lorelei after the sirens of the rhine; she insisted her first cries were the sweetest song. and lorelei continued to have a beautiful voice; she sang more than she spoke. but only at home. 

she never responded to lorelei, though, not really; it felt too grand for her. she was a chicken-legged girl who liked overalls and goosebumps books. she was just lorrie.

she grew up in a lower-middle class region of boston, ma. her father was a salesman, and her mother was a travel agent. 

for a while, at school, she didn’t speak at all. she was diagnosed with selective mutism at age five, and it took until she was thirteen to overcome it completely. 

this was not at all helped by the fact that her parents had a nasty divorce when she was seven years old. her father used her mother’s ten-year-old suicide attempt against her in court to prove she wasn’t stable, and gained full custody of lorelei and her two older brothers. her oldest brother, matthias, sided with their father, but the middle brother, jeremias, sided with their mom, and tried to run away to his mother’s house basically every month. he ran away for good when he was fifteen, living with his girlfriend’s family. 

what helped her overcome this selective mutism, at least at first, was her middle school drama class. at home, lorelei had always been an excellent mimic. she did her favorite impressions for her drama teacher, and she encouraged her to try some monologues and scenes. as she got better at acting, she realized that she didn’t have to be herself; she could be somebody else. and that made talking all the easier. 

by high school, she was no longer selectively mute, but was still anxious and shy. she was, however, a total drama kid, and still loved to act. she could be outrageous, incredible on stage; she wasn’t being herself, after all, so if people were judging her, it was the character they were judging, not her. 

still she was def the kind of girl who had a mental breakdown every four months and dyed/cut her hair/gave herself bangs. she could never quite shake the feeling that she was an outsider looking in, separated, different. 

she still loved music, and as she grew older, she started to write songs. it was her secret dream to be a musician. one of her theater friends talked her into singing one of them when she was sixteen, and then encouraged her to try out for the talent show. she was able to get through the audition, though she was a little nervous, but she knew it would be fine. she was on stage all the time, this would be fine. 

but this time, she had to be herself in front of the entire school, and she froze up, not a sound leaving her lips. she doesn’t remember leaving the stage; only remembers that suddenly, she was in the girls bathroom, sobbing her eyes out. 

her friends comforted her that night, partying in their basement like they always did, but thats when lorrie had an idea. what if she didn’t perform as herself? 

that’s when a starr was born. 

as lorelei dressed herself up in all the holo and glitter she had, she created starr in her head; she was born beloved, charismatic, fearless, this glitz and glamor girl who had it all, but what now? even at the top, she found emptiness. she was a beautiful supernova, so breathtaking you forgot she was really a collapsing star. 

starr was lorrie’s ultimate muse; she wrote song after song for her in the next few months, until, finally, she asked some of her friends to help her record a music video. she didn’t expect this music video to get 60 million views in a matter of weeks. 

royals, of course, blew the fuck up, and she had people calling her house to get her to sign with this record company or that record company, and her eventual producer flew her out to la with her dad. and, of course, the rest is history. (her dad also blew a lot of the money she earned as a minor but she got rid of him and that’s neither here nor there.) 

however, as she got more and more into the la lifestyle, she began to rely more and more on starr as an alter ego. people liked starr, after all, and lorrie didn’t even like herself. she played the part of the dignified, wise, and eccentric former queen during interviews, when recording, at after parties and award shows. 

even her first major relationship she got while acting like starr, someone fearless and fun, basically a manic pixie dream girl. if you’ve ever listened to the album melodrama, then you know how badly that ended. 

that’s around when she realized that starr had taken over her entire life. coming home from a house party absolutely zonked, she looked in the mirror and didn’t recognize herself, didn’t see that nerdy, overall-clad chicken-legged girl from her family pictures. 

she stripped her clothes off, scraped the makeup off her face until her skin was red and dry, dragged a brush through her hair to get rid of all the product, and pulled on a hoodie and leggings she had brought with her to la a year ago. she wrote the first draft of all the songs in melodrama in the coming hours. 

however, she still wrote from starr’s perspective, knew she’d perform it as starr. it may be far more personal, but lorrie wasn’t ready to come out just yet. in fact, she’s kind of been hiding the last year or so, a full-on depression mess. 

tl;dr lower middle class nerdy girl from boston overcomes crippling social anxiety through acting, finesses this into an alter ego to be a musician, hits it big, loses herself in the alter ego, has a disastrous relationship, and tries to become herself again. 

present.

first of all, her real name is Known to the public, but not her “brand” outside of starr. it’s proven to be a boon as of late; she’s known for basically being a walking sailor moon cosplayer, not a skinny woman in baggy jeans and a big black hoodie.

since she’s trying to work on herself, she’s kind of in a creative slump. like, she still has more than enough royalties off her music to keep her going, but her agent and producer are both pushing her to clean up some of her songs and record them for a new album. she can still write as starr, but it feels... different, now. melodrama was far more personal than pure heroine, and she wants to continue to grow; writing as starr feels like reverting back to her sixteen year old self. but she’s too scared to write as herself So....

at events though she’s still in the gauze and stars people expect from starr. 

trying to reach out to her mom and brother jer again. not her dad, fuck her dad. 

loves true crime, the supernatural, and conspiracy thought. is probably watching a true crime doc rn. 

she’s just starting to leave her house for the first time in like... a year? like she’s only started to get out again in the last few months.

as for drugs, she def drinks, but she’s more likely to smoke weed. also, she’s a big fan of lsd, but holds herself off to only tripping every few months.

is considering moving to the woods and being the lonely crone everyone whispers about. or maybe switching to voice acting. 

she fuckin hates dolls. literally her worst nightmare is being trapped in some collectors’ doll rooms.  

wanted connections. 

melodrama ex (0/1) - the ex she wrote her breakup album about. can be any gender. i literally want this connection so bad kfdskjkadsfds

best friend (0/1) - someone who was with her throughout her... Transformation

squad (0/3) - bc who doesn't love a squad. this is the vibe i’m going for (sound warning)

icon (1/1) - someone lorrie looks up to and like... majorly doesn't wanna disappoint. - filled by kami!!!

musician buddies (0/?) - they bounce lyrics off of each other, you know how it is.

rival pop star (0/1) - idk i just think it would be Neat. maybe even with a plot that they had a major falling out and now they have to pretend to get along.

hookups (0/?) - or other messy shit

texting crush (0/1) - really weird concept but like... i imagine lorrie would have the number or snap or insta or whatever of this muse and they get talking after melodrama and she just... lays it all out. they don't really talk in person, but she feels really close to them and definitely develops a crush

weed buddy (0/1) - they come to her house and smoke and complain its great

friend turned enemy (0/1) - maybe someone who adored starr but doesn't like who she is now?????? idk idk

enemy turned friend (0/1) - maybe someone who thought starr was fake af but then meets lorrie being Herself and is just like "oh you're a Human" idk idk

bonus.

as a thank you for making it to the end of this fucking enormous intro, please take a moment to enjoy these tik toks reflective of lorrie’s personality (they’re also???? great on their own) 

lorrie talking/singing to herself alone in her house 

honestly she has tinkerbell vibes

drunk mouths speak sober thoughts

and thats on mental illness

[coffeenovels]

I was tagged by @maythewolvesforgetyourname to do this, thank you so much! 💖

A // age — 22, yikes

B // birthplace — I was born in the north of North Rhine-Westphalia and I now live about 250 km away in Cologne (y'all can guess though, my birthplace is a big city beginning with the letter M)

C // current time — Almost 9 pm

D // drink you last had — Some good old H2O (also fun fact: I love sparkling water and regular water is gross af)

E // easiest person to talk to — Probably either my mom or my best friend

F // favorite songs (currently) — I love listening to the new album by Marina, especially the song Life is Strange. I missed her so much

G // grossest memory — Can’t remember right now, but there must’ve been a lot of gross memories

H // horror yes or no — A big yes! I love horror/scary movies

I // in love — Nah mate, I’m not messing with that right now

J // jealous of people — I try not to be, but honestly sometimes I can’t help it (I can control it though)

K // kids — I’m not interested in having kids, however that could still change with the right partner, but for now I really don’t want to have kids

L // love at first sight or walk by again — I don’t really believe in love at first sight, so I guess walk by again

M // middle name — I do have a middle name, but that one will stay hidden forever (or until I get rid of it)

N // number of siblings — None, I’m an only child

O // one wish — Mental stability would be great right now

P // person you last called — My mom, I asked her if I should get her some food from the grocery store (I always do this when I go grocery shopping alone)

Q // questions you always get asked — I always get asked how old I am, because I don’t look my age and because I am really short

R // random fact about you — I’m a leftie and yes, there is a slight “discrimination” going on against left-handed people because society still thinks that being right-handed is the default so we have to adapt a lot (e.g. in sports like ice hockey or American football) and that can actually cause a lot of headaches and other illnesses, welcome to my TED talk

S // song you last sang — Girls Like Girls by Hayley “Lesbian Jesus” Kiyoko

T // time you woke up — 6:00 on a Saturday and I’ve been suffering from menstrual cramps ever since (ayyyyyy)

U // underwear color — Black, I think I only own black or grey underwear in general

V // vacation destination — I mean my last vacation destination was Hannover, but my dream vacation destination would be Iceland right now, also I really wanna visit England again (and just never come back)

W // worst habit — I can’t eat food in public when I’m alone or in a big group (restaurant is fine though), but for example when I’m at the train station waiting and I’m alone, I just can’t eat anything

X // x-ray — I only had to get an x-ray in order to determine wether I needed to get braces or not (and I did get braces for 1 1/2 years and they were the worst)

Y // your favorite food — I’m a slut for anything that involves pasta or ramen

Z // zodiac sign — Libra sun (with a Pisces moon and Leo rising)

I tag @wonderinghobbit @owlglas @ifellgayintoyourarms @rickielamberts @ihthr @ckmblt @tendertragedies

[tonkipages]

Sausage fest showtimes

#Sausage fest showtimes movie#

#Sausage fest showtimes full#

#Sausage fest showtimes plus#

Saturday: Ziliak and the Lilac Band, Starlite Lounge, Lani Williams, Half the Neighborhood, Streakerįor more information, call 31 or visit the SausageFest Facebook page. What is the music lineup?įriday: Fabulous Sausagekings, Doghouse Grove, Supercosmic, Sidewalk Souls, Meat Monster. An aging Chinese immigrant is just trying to finish her taxes. Rating: R Release Year: 2022 Starring: James Hong, Jamie Lee Curtis, Jonathan Ke Quan, Michelle Yeoh, Stephanie Hsu Country: United States Language: English, Mandarin, Cantonese New year, new universe. There also will be a separate chaperoned party lot for teens with a DJ. Director: Daniel Kwan, Daniel Scheinert Run Time: 139 min. The festivities include bouncy houses, a dunk tank, games and face painting. Get on that crowded dance floor and shake your groove thing baby. We’ll resume service as soon as possible check back soon to keep enjoying Microsoft Rewards. If you think Valentine’s Day is a bit of a sausage fest, enjoy DJ Alicious spinning all your favorite girl friendly and queer dance hints.

#Sausage fest showtimes full#

Stay tuned for more details regarding the full 2022 schedule of. Reward Page description Something unexpected went wrong on our end. The 21 and older crowd can choose to enjoy ice-cold beverages from Sun King Brewery or a selection of vino in separate beer or wine gardens. The only cost is the price of daily admission and tickets will not be sold in advance or online. Looking for something other than sausage? All good, the event will have sides dishes from Illinois Street Food Emporium, pizza from Byrnes, and snacks and sweets in the Snack Shack. You can end the weekend on a high note by running, walking, or crawling 164' feet in the. Following the successful return of March’s beer festival after two dormant years, The Driftwood Spars has announced dates for its next foray into food and drink festivities on the Cornish coast.

#Sausage fest showtimes plus#

Games for kids with our partners at the Cincinnati Recreation Commission start at 11A, along with a petting zoo with you guessed it, goats! Live music in the afternoon along with more chances for a walking tour of Cincinnati brewing history, plus the BockFeast pig roast continues. You're not done yet, as we start Sunday a little slower and a lot more family friendly! Goat Yoga starts the day at 10A, followed by the cutest Little Links pageant for the kids. Make sure to stop by our participating venues, both in Over-the-Rhine/Downtown and around Cincinnati. Take a break Saturday night with great music, then watch our newest Sausage Queen be crowned. Hop next door to Rookwood Pottery for our Bockfest Heritage Series with breweriana and speakers or take a 1 hour walking tour of one of Cincinnati's most historic breweries and its underground lager cellars. The Bock Beer Experience kicks off at 12P where you can sample over 30 bock beers! You'll need a full belly to make sure the goat doesn't kick too hard, and the BockFeast Pig Roast will fill you up. Shake off those cobwebs on Saturday morning and cheer on the Bockfest 5K runners at 10A. Homemade roasted garlic sausage with peppers and onions, wood fired garlic pizzas, garlic roast pork.

#Sausage fest showtimes movie#

Grab a bock beer and some food and Rock out with The Klaberheads before heading out to our participating venues in Over-the-Rhine/Downtown and around Cincinnati with their own specials. Beavercreek Movie Times Regal Fairfield Commons Cinemark - The Greene + IMAX Dayton Movie Times Dixie Drive-In Movie Theater Air Force Museum - IMAX Neon Movies Melody 49 Drive-In Huber Heights Movie Times Cinemark Huber Heights Miamisburg Movie Times Cinepolis at Austin Landing Plaza Theatre Piqua Movie Times Cinemark Miami Valley Cinema. When youre hungry, venture over to our food court. Follow the Parade up to our NEW Bockfest Hall at Findlay Playground to hear Jake Speed sing "The Bock Beer Song", bow your head with Brother Tim as he blesses this year's bock beer, and cheer as the Parade winners are announced. Hop on the streetcar to Arnold's and Main Street to watch the Parade step off at 6P. Cincinnati's own Queen City Sausage arranged the celebration of all things meat in tubular casing. Start your Bockfest weekend at the Moerlein Lager House with the winners of this year's Schoenling Bock Home Brew Competition at 4P. Let's get this out of the way now it’s a literal sausage-fest for lack of a better term.

[lostinfic]

Mercier x Betty  British Raj AU

The word ‘dance’ comes to mind, their own choreography of gazes exchanged across the room, brushes of hands and half-spoken confessions. They orbit around each other, destined never to collide it seems; Mercier is upper class, Betty is a governess. And he’s spying on the family whose children she swore to protect. But in this foreign land of spices and silk, of golden gods and lush forests, where cultural norms clash and wane, even destinies must yield to desire.

Rating: Mature  Word count: 3.9k Beta: @fadewithfury​ <3 Thank you anon who prompted a Victorian AU that became this, and to my French anon for inspiration; Don’t let the pretentious summary fool you, this is plotless and shameless romantization of India, and an excuse to write UST and sneaking around. Warnings: drinking, smoking, kids because Betty is a governess. You don’t need to have seen either show. 

Tumblr | Ao3

1 | Falling

Calcutta, August 1902

As soon as Mercier exited the Raj Bhavan and stepped out from under the shade of the portico, the sun assaulted him. He tugged at his stiff high collar. It wouldn’t last, leaded clouds loomed on the horizon.

Monsoon season was almost over, the violent showers now few and far inbetween, giving way to the more tolerable days of Sharad Ritu, the fourth season of the Hindu calendar with the autumnal equinox as its midpoint.

Mercier walked towards the river Hoogly, intent on enjoying the city before having to shut himself indoors because of the heat.

Early morning was the busiest moment of the day. Even before sunrise, natives and foreigners alike took advantage of the cooler temperature to conduct their business. The clocks had barely struck nine when Mercier left the government house, having approved a transit between Calcutta and the French territory of Pondichéry.

He navigated between sweetmeat sellers, water carriers and liveried chaprassis, and beasts too, as numerous as humans, oxen pulling carts, gharry horses wearing blue beads and sacred bulls eating marigolds. Dust rose under their hoofs. And the smell of them reminded him of the stables on his estate, in a much quieter part of the world. How incongruous to find something so familiar halfway around the globe, and that such a foul smell should make him smile.

He reached the shore and stared absentmindedly into the flow, brown waters, a shade like café au lait, stirring memories of lazy Sunday mornings with his wife.

Mercier shook his head free of these melancholy thoughts, and instead settled his attention on the large steps descending into the river. No, not the colour of café au lait but of chai masala. Locals and pilgrims bathed there, washing clothes and cattle. The thrum of women’s gossip and fakir’s prayers reached his ears. A couple knotted their robes together and dipped side by side as a little boy priest showered them with petals.

In every city he’d lived in there had been such a river. The social and commercial center of the city, bustling with activity and yet nothing appeased him like walking along the banks. The Seine, the Thames, the Danube, the Vistula, the Rhine… And once again his mind wandered with the river, joining the Ganges and flowing to the Bay of Bengal and into the Indian Ocean; the same route he’d arrived in this country.

His steps took him towards the port where the wind impregnated the great white sails of the P&O ships.

He did not miss France per se, but his freedom. Always an independent spirit despite his military career, he went from one European capital to the next, to spy or fight, taking unpaid leave when things didn’t go his way. India had promised such liberty. But after four years, the close-knit community felt claustrophobic. The occasional mission kept him on his toes, but he’d imagined a work far less administrative.

He’d missed another Exposition Universelle and the summer olympics in Paris. He’d thought about leaving India before. But this country always had a new marvel in store to convince him to stay a while longer. Whenever melancholy had swept over him before, he’d discover a new sport, new food, new landscape to remind him there was much left to discover and enjoy. What would it be this time?

Anyway, he had an important assignment to complete before he could take his leave.

Mercier stared into the waters again. There were no steps here, but a steep wall, four feet above sea level, that dived into the river. Waves broke against the stone and a refreshing salty mist sprayed his face.

“Oliver Douglas Wigram, come back here!”

Mercier perked up at the name; Lord Wigram was part of his assignment, someone to report on, but he had yet to secure an invitation to his home.

“Oliver! It’s dangerous!”

A woman, Lady Wigram he assumed, ran and shouted, holding up her yellow skirts. A little boy, no more than four years old, ran past Mercier, giggling as he glanced over his shoulder at his pursuer.

Out of nowhere, a donkey headbutted the boy, sending him into the port’s deep waters. Mercier froze, agape. Oliver resurfaced, gesticulating wildly to keep himself afloat. Mercier started removing his jacket. He barely had one arm out that the woman dived straight into the river, her hat flying off behind her.

The strong current dragged Oliver away. Lady Wigram swam steadily to him. Mercier ran along the edge, trying to catch up, preparing to jump. Water swallowed the boy, and she dived under. His heart stopped as they disappeared, but she emerged with the child in her arms.

She was a good swimmer but her layers of clothes and corset would weigh her down. They didn’t need a third person in there but something to pull them out. He grabbed a thick rope, unwinding it from around a post, and threw it at them. It fell too far.

With one arm around the crying boy, the woman had trouble keeping her head out of the water. Mercier threw the rope a second time. It landed right beside them, and she grabbed it immediately. With the help of other men who’d witnessed the incident, Mercier pulled them out of the river.

An old sepoy caught Oliver, and Mercier hoisted Lady Wigram by her underarms. He laid her on the ground and knelt beside her. Brown curls stuck to her face, and he wiped them off as she coughed water. Her breath was short and laboured, her eyes wide and panicked. She clawed at her dress, and he realized what she needed. Running his fingers over her torso, he located, under the fabric, the front hooks of her corset. With some fiddling, he managed to free her. As soon as she could breathe properly, she looked around, searching for the boy.

“He’s here, my lady, he’s alive.”

She crawled to the boy. Oliver safe in her arms, she sagged with relief against Mercier’s chest. He couldn’t help but close his arms around them.

“Shhh. You’re fine, you’re safe,” he whispered to soothe the lady’s tears.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, pulling away and wiping her nose on her sleeve.

“There is nothing to be sorry about. Can you stand up?” he asked after a moment.

She nodded, and he helped her up to her feet. The old sepoy offered to get them a carriage. They sat on a bench near the road to wait for it.

“Oh, my Lord! Thank you for saving us. Thank you,” she said. “Oh, where’s me head at, I didn’t even ask your name.”

“Colonel Jean-François Mercier. It’s a pleasure to meet you Lady Wigram.” He kissed the back of her hand.

“Oh. I’m not lady Wigram.”

“I heard you say the boy’s name, I assumed…”

“I’m just the governess.”

“A pleasure all the same. And your name?”

“Betty Salinger, sir.”

“A governess? You do not look like one.” He looked pointedly at her colourful promenade dress.

She sniffled as she fingered a muddied lace trim. “It’s me— my day off,” she explained

She looked at her ward, but didn’t express discontentment at his presence on her day off. She attempted to clean his face with her soaked handkerchief, and Mercier offered his own. It didn’t do any good, the child still looked a right mess, soaked to the bones with a runny nose and one shoe lost.

“Her ladyship will kill me dead.”

At that, Oliver’s lip wobbled and his eyes welled up again.

“Oh, no, no, sweetheart, don’t worry, I didn’t mean like that.”

“Because you saved her son?”

“I let him run off.”

“Children will do that. The donkey pushed him.”

Betty nodded, but worry lines still bracketed her mouth. The poor woman was dishevelled, her chignon slid halfway down her hair, and her corset still gaped under her dress.

“Perhaps if your clothes were clean and dry, the accident might not appear so severe.” He pulled a dead leaf out of her hair.

“Is it that bad?”

“We could stop by my house so you might fix your appearance and the boy’s, and dry your clothes.”

Her wide, uncertain eyes settled on him, mouth slightly agape. “Is that proper, sir?”

“Oh, of course, my apologies… My sister will be there.”

She relaxed. “Yeah, if you would be so kind, it might make matters better.”

*

The carriage stopped in front of a large white stucco house with a classical portico. Above the entrance, hung a French flag, the heat had caused the blue and red dyes to bleed on the white middle.

Taking in the size of the building, Betty’s eyes widened and shifted between Mercier and the house.

“It is not all for me. It doubles as the French consulate,” Mercier said. “The west side is offices and guest rooms.”

“There are people in there?” She crossed her arms to cover herself.

“Come this way, I will make sure no one sees you.”

He guided her around the house to a side entrance.

Oliver was getting impatient, clinging to Betty and demanding to go home, but he stopped whining as soon as he saw Mercier’s two pointer dogs. His giggles and the dogs’ soft barks attracted Gabrielle to the room. Back from calling on a friend, she removed her gloves and feathered hat.

“Have you gone fishing, brother?” she teased as she eyed their soaked guests.

Mercier introduced his younger sister and explained the situation.

Gabrielle promptly put an arm around Betty’s shoulders. “Good heavens, what a fright you must have had. Come with me, we will find you something dry to wear. Jean-François, please have the cook prepare something.”

He watched the three of them walk up the stairs with an odd pinch to his heart. He could trust his sister to take good care of them. No doubt Gabrielle’s congeniality would soothe Betty’s nerves better than he could. But it felt wrong to let them out of his sight. Of course, he couldn’t follow, Betty was about to undress. Not that he was averse to witness that.

Clucking his tongue at his own silliness, Mercier headed for his rooms. He changed out of his clothes, damp from holding Betty, trading the layers of jacket, waistcoat and cravat for a loose linen shirt.

He unlocked his roll top secretary and sifted through files for the one on Lord Wigram.

Douglas Wigram had been doing business in India for over a decade but only moved permanently to the country eighteen months ago. Although his business partners worked mainly in Bombay, he now lived in Calcutta, on the eastern side of the country. He had made enemies in Bombay, amongst which trade partners from the French territories of Mahé and Pondichéry. Rodier, the Governor General of French colonies, had put him on the list of potential enemies who believed India should be united under the British crown.

By taking Oliver back home, Mercier might meet Lady or Lord Wigram and perhaps secure an invitation for some upcoming gathering at their house. From then on, it would be easier to assess if Wigram was a threat.

After stopping by the kitchens, Mercier joined the women on the white marble verandah. In the corner, a punkah wallah with a string attached to his toe stirred a large cloth fan suspended from the ceiling on a wooden frame.

Betty was sat on a reclined Planter’s chair, and, standing behind her, Gabrielle braided their guest’s long brown hair. Both wore loose muslin wrappers, strictly speaking these garments were dressing gowns, but had been widely adopted as day wear in India, perfect for the heat if not quite appropriate to entertain company. Gabrielle tied the end of the braid with a ribbon and laid it over Betty’s shoulder. Water from its tip seeped into the white fabric and a wet ring grew above her breast. She noticed and swept the braid behind her, but Mercier’s gaze lingered on the sheer spot, then on her delicate sun-kissed collar bones. She clutched the fabric on her chest self-consciously, and he averted his eyes immediately.

He cleared his throat and turned to the bar caddy, chiding himself for ogling her. The poor woman was stuck between borderline indecency in the company of strangers and the wrath of Lady Wigram. Yet the light tan of her skin told him it was not her first time out of the house wearing little.

“Brandy?” He offered Betty a glass which she accepted but didn’t bring to her lips.

“None for me?” Gabrielle complained as she sat down on a large cushion.

“Only for those who have rescued someone today,” he replied, drinking from his own glass. “How are you feeling miss Salinger?”

“Better, thanks,” she answered, eyes downcast.

“In this sun, your clothes will be dry in no time,” Gabrielle assured her.

Mercier turned his attention to the garden below. The chirping of blue-breasted quails and Himalayan flamebacks made him search for their colourful plumage amongst the garden shrubs.

“What kind is that?” Gabrielle asked pointing at a small bird with iridescent feathers perched on a palm tree.

“A sunbird, I believe, green-tailed.”

“My brother loves birds and all wild animals,” Gabrielle said. “Do you love nature and animals, miss Salinger?”

“Oh yes!” She covered her mouth, tampering down her own enthusiasm straight away.

“The wildlife of India is marvellous, don’t you think?” Gabrielle insisted.

“The flowers are beautiful, I shall never tire of walking in the Wigrams’ garden.”

“How nice. You love the flora and my brother loves the fauna.”

It’s only out of respect that Mercier didn’t roll his eyes at his sister’s matchmaking attempt. Gabrielle was all but married to Armand, and, before leaving her brother, she endeavoured to find him a companion.

“Do you hunt, Colonel?” Betty asked.

“I have been on a few expeditions.”

“Have you ever killed a tiger? I hear they are terribly dangerous and bloodthirsty.”

“I saw some last year. I was invited to a hunt with a few generals and lords at the domain of the Maharaja of Surguja. They are magnificent creatures, but I did not kill any.”

When their party had arrived in the forest, servants had already baited and drugged the tigers. There was no danger, and certainly no honour, to killing them. So as not to insult his esteemed colleagues, he’d held his tongue and pretended to miss his mark.

“His lordship made a carpet out of the first one he caught,” Betty said. “I always walk around it.”

He smiled at her, and she averted her eyes.

“How is the boy doing?” he asked.

They looked at Oliver, chasing after the dogs.

“Brave lad, he had quite the adventure… oh, what’s the point of fixing me dress, he’ll tell her ladyship everything anyway.”

“He seems quite taken with the dogs, perhaps it’s all he shall remember,” Gabrielle said.

“Let’s hope so.”

Truth be told, Mercier worried more about the dogs than the boy, he was now pulling at their tails and ears.

“Achille. Céleste,” he called.

The dogs joined him, Oliver on their heels. Mercier showed him how to pet and play with them.

“You don’t have to do that,” Betty said, “I should take care of him.”

“It’s your day off, is it not?”

She didn’t voice another objection, instead leaning back and taking a sip of brandy.

“He was lucky you know how to swim. It’s quite rare amongst young women,” Mercier commented. When she offered no explanation, he asked, “where did you learn?

“Me father, sir.”

“Did you live near the water?”

“No.”

He wondered if her reluctance to speak stemmed from shock or shyness. To put her at ease, he told her of a river, near his family’s estate in Boutillon where he used to swim. No more than two-feet deep, but still his mother had forbid him to go. “So of course, I went there every occasion I had.”

“And I followed,” Gabrielle added. “Even after you left, I kept going.”

“Not by yourself, I expect.”

“I always managed to find some company…”

He smiled indulgently at his sister. She used to tease the village boys mercilessly. They did anything she asked as long as they believed they had a chance with her, which, in actuality, they never had. One of them received the scold of a lifetime for bringing her tobacco.

He rolled a cigarette and handed it to his sister. She never smoked in public, etiquette forbade it, but he wanted to check Betty’s reaction. A sort of moral test, to assess if he could use her to spy on Lord Wigram. Betty frowned at Gabrielle exhaling smoke, but he thought it was more from curiosity than judgement. Interesting.

A servant brought a platter of jalebi, deep fried curls of batter dipped in sugar syrup and saffron. Oliver dashed to the plate, grabbing one jalebi in each hand.

“Slow down, sweetheart, don’t spoil your lunch.”

But the adults were as eager as the kid. They emptied the platter in no time, the crystallized exterior crunched under their teeth, and they hummed with delight, sucking their greasy fingertips. Colour returned to Betty’s face, cheeks flushed, her lips tinted gold with saffron, and glistening from the sweet oil. He caught her eyes as her tongue darted to the corners of her mouth. For the first time, she didn’t look away.

“Me granddaddy did, live by the water I mean, near the Eccup reservoir in Leeds,” she said.

“And that is where you learned to swim?” Gabrielle asked.

“Yeah... We went there in the summers,” she added, gaining a little confidence. “Daddy was in the Navy. He knew water can be dangerous, but he didn’t want us to be afraid of it.”

“You certainly were not afraid of it today,” Mercier said.

“Wish I’d stayed longer in the water, it was quite refreshing,” she admitted, hiding a laugh behind her hand.

That made him smile. Perhaps it could be arranged, he’d heard of some rivers one could swim in just outside the city. He refilled their glasses of brandy, offering one to his sister this time.

“How long have you two been in India?” Betty enquired.

“I arrived fours years ago, and Gabrielle joined me a year later. You know what they say, women come to India for two reasons: because they are married to empire builders or because they want to be.”

“I will hear no such thing, Jean-François! It may be unladylike, but I came here because I wanted to see India.”

“And you prefer piano players to empire builders,” he replied, referring to Armand.

“Hush!” She poked him with her toes. “And you Betty, why did you come here? Looking for the perfect man?”

“The only interest I have in men, is making a good one out of Oliver.”

“I like her, brother, you should rescue governesses more often.”

Realizing what she’d said, Betty blushed and glared at her glass of brandy. “As good a man as his lordship, I mean… I should go, we will be late for tiffin. Come on sweetheart.”

“I want the doggie,” the child replied, hugging Achille’s neck.

Betty gently pried him away.

“You can come back to see them again,” Mercier said impulsively, earning a surprised look from Gabrielle.

While Betty and Oliver put on their now dry clothes, Mercier had the driver prepare the buggy. He put on a waistcoat and jacket again, and fixed his hair to make a good impression on the Wigrams.

Although Betty and Oliver looked in better shape, their outfits were still the worse for wear. It saddened him to see her smile now turn into a frown.

“Thank you for your help, Colonel, but I’m afraid it will not do much good.”

Mercier’s ancestors had been knights, and he found nothing awakened the chivalry in his blood like the distress in Betty’s doe eyes.

“Let me take you home and talk to Lady Wigram. I will tell her it’s my fault.”

“I appreciate it, sir, but why would you do that for me?”

“Yes, why would you do that?” Gabrielle echoed.

He could not reveal he wished to make the Wigrams’ acquaintance to spy on them. But he didn’t have to take the blame for that. The truth was he couldn’t stomach any criticism coming to Betty when she’d so bravely jumped in the water before he had even gathered his own courage to do so.

*

As they neared the house, Betty chewed harder on her bottom lip and wrung her hands in her lap. She fussed over the child’s appearance. “Oliver, sweetheart, what did we do this morning?”

“I played with doggies.”

“Yes, exactly, that’s what we did. All morning. We played with the dogs. Do you remember their names?” And she kept on asking about the dogs, to make sure it was all the boy would talk about.

Arrived at the house, Betty had hoped to slip under the radar but Lady Wigram was in the hall. She was a good looking woman, but her pale skin, droopy eyelids and oddly slow demeanour gave the impression she was permanently drowsy.

She took in their clothes and asked: “Good Heavens, what has happened?”

“I fell in the river,” Oliver said before running off to his room.

“My horse pushed him,” Mercier said right away, “it was frightened when the boy came running. Miss Salinger was with him. He fell in a stream, hardly a river, and—”

“You let him run off?” Lady Wigram spoke daintily, but accusation and contempt spiked her words.

“I— I’m sorry… the horse and…”

“She immediately jumped in too, to grab the boy, most courageously.”

Lady Wigram huffed and sent Betty to her room. “You cannot possibly eat lunch in this state.”

Betty’s eyes welled up, and, shoulders bowed, she walked away. As he watched her disappear up the stairs, there was again that odd pinch to Mercier’s heart.

“Really, madam, miss Salinger is not to blame.”

“There is no need for that, Colonel.” She looped her arm through his, guiding him to the front room. “The girl is a lost cause, but my husband knew her father and he’s sentimental, you know how these things go. We make do with her flaws, poor girl.”

Mercier ground his teeth.

*

When he returned home, Gabrielle was waiting for him at the dining room table. He knew that amused glint in her eyes, and only reluctantly sat down with her.

“You like her,” she said in French with that teasing lilt.

“I need her. I have to learn more about Lord Wigram’s business in Calcutta.”

“So you are using her to be in the Wigrams’ good graces.”

“Exactly.”

“Hm.”

“… What is it?”

“And how does taking the blame achieve that?” she asked. “Wouldn’t it have been better to present yourself as a hero, or to at least side with Lady Wigram on staff’s incompetence?” Although she’d formulated her sentences as questions, he knew she was only mocking him by stating the obvious.

“It worked—” he showed an invitation to a dinner party at the Wigrams’— “it’s all that matters. I can complete my last assignment.”

And with that mission done, he would be able to leave India. The governess was his ticket out… or the marvel that would make him stay another while longer.

Chapter 2: Observing

[dragonturgy]

11 Questions

Rules 1. Always post the rules 2. Answer the questions given by the person who tagged you. 3. Write 11 questions of your own. 4. Tag 11 people.

I was tagged by @ogtumble.  Thanks, Darlin!

Questions

1. What is the best part of waking up for you?

I’m an early riser.  Really early.  As in, I wake up before the 5am alarm, even on weekends, early.  I sometimes wake up before the birds.  I love the quiet world, the sky just before the sun rises, and having my cup of Irish Breakfast Tea with a side of no one.

2. What was your favorite food when you were a kid? Do you make it for yourself now?

Sushi has long been a favorite, ever since my gramma took me to Japan when I was 12.  I’ll leave the raw fish preparation to the professionals.

3. What is something you’d like to build?

A novel retelling the Gospel stories through the eyes of someone else, most especially the eyes of women.  See SpirARTuality for early attempts.

4. Who is your favorite visual artist (e.g. painter, sculptor, etc.)?

Dali.  I have a small print of this hanging over my tea kettle.

5. Where would you really like to visit in the world?

Among the places I haven’t yet been: Barcelona, Ely Cathedral, Angor Wat, Bhutan, Yosemite, Napa Valley, Vienna, Johannesburg, Edinburgh, Galway, Iceland, St. Petersburg, Croatia, Jerusalem, Lalibela, Provence, Rhine Valley, Auschwitz, Munich, Rio at Carnaval, Wales, A Forgotten Spot in the Caribbean, Montana, 

6. What is your favorite non-fiction book?

And It Was Good, Madeliene L’Engle

7. What is your favorite mode of transportation?

My own two tootsies.

8. If you could witness any event past, present, or future, which would it be?

In terms of historic events, they are most often remembered for their horror and gore.  I’ve seen enough of that for one life.  The passage of the Thirteenth Amendment or the Nineteenth Amendment would be cool.

9. If you could meet anyone, living or dead, who would you like to meet?

My biological father.  Just to know who he is.

10. What is your favorite piece of classical music?

“Miserere Mei” Allegri

11. What is your favorite quote?

“All of old. Nothing else ever. Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better.” ― Samuel Beckett

My questions

Which failure has been the best influence on your life?

If God(de) exists, what would you like him or her to say when you enter the afterlife?

What was the last piece of art to move you to tears?  Or laughter?

What would you want to learn how to cook that you don’t yet know how to do?

How deep is your stack of unread books?

If you could go back, what would you tell your 15-year-old self?  (and would you listen?)

Who is your hair idol?

Three items that you never leave the house without?

What is your second best talent?

Thunderstorms: love or hate?

Describe your favorite room in your dream home.

I always tag the wrong people, so if you are interested in my questions, please answer them and play along.  Thanks for reading!

[kainnna]

2017 NYE Memories

Watching Jumanji with Jerome Rhine Ruben Jessica and Charr.

Taking turns Reading poems from Rupi Kaur’s The Sun and her Flowers on top of Dump Park.

“I do not weep

Because I’m unhappy

I weep because I have everything

Yet I am unhappy”

Having to hold in my farts for almost 4 hours lol.

Ruben feeding a frightened dog outside of San Jose Mart.

Going into San Jose Mart to *window shop (*try to fart)

Watching Buzzfeed Unsolved at Jerome’s apartment.

Demons! It’s ya boi!

Watching an unfinished edit of Rhine’s Guam trip.

Last meal of 2017 was Tom Yum Chicken. Lol. Everyone ordered chicken.

Drinking Redbull to wake up at 10pm.

Jerome and Rhine filling the car with so much vape smoke outside of Twins Market LOL

Feeling anxious being at Hyatt’s NYE party and wanting to leave.

Needing to take a shit at 11:55pm, but holding it in because I didn’t want to miss out.

Seeing the fireworks with my bestest friends at 12:00am January 1, 2018.

Hugging Jerome, Rhine, and Lee Roy and greeting them Happy New Year.

Hugging Ruben and feeling like he didn’t want to let go.

Being sad about it.

Closing my eyes and making a New Year’s Wish.

Meeting up with my family in between Hyatt and Fiesta and the first thing they wanted to do was show me an embarrassing video of my dad dancing LOL.

Jerome losing the raffle for a free trip to Hawaii.

Driving to 3 step and Jerome running over the island LOLOL.

Popping fireworks at the dock.

Popping pop pops on Rhine’s belly.

Popping pop pops on each other lol.

Having a wizard duel with Rhine.

Feeling like a kid again.

Getting chased by Jerome holding a lit fuse.

Telling crazy childhood stories.

Realizing I didn’t have a crazy childhood.

Talking about big and small resolutions.

Going home at 4am wishing I could have stayed out longer.

Happy New Year everyone.

[swipestream]

Cinema (The Right Geek): What I’m trying to say here is that I’m the audience for a female superhero like Captain Marvel. And yet – and yet! – I have no interest in seeing her new movie because her marketing campaign has been a trash fire of epic proportions. First of all, there’s the deeply stupid year-zero mentality.

  Writers (DMR Books): I first encountered Shea by way of the Cthulhu Mythos. I’d heard he was a good writer–this being in reference to his classic, Nifft the Lean–but I stumbled onto his Mythos novel, The Color Out of Time, first. The cover blurb made it sound cool, I was always in the market for good Mythos fiction, so I bought it.

  Fiction (Swords Sorcery Blogspot): For five blood-soaked chapters of C.S.Forester’s debut Horatio Hornblower novel, The Happy Return (1935) (Beat to Quarters in the US) the British frigate Lydia battles the Natividad, an old Spanish ship-of-the-line crewed by Nicaraguan rebels. For all of author Forester’s tremendous success at recreating the wooden world of King George’s navy during the Napoleonic Wars, it’s that battle, as presided over by the brooding Hornblower, that got me.

Fiction (Pulp Archivist): During a discussion of science fiction by C. S. Lewis, Kingsley Amis, and Brian Aldiss, published as “Unreal Estate”, attempts to define the genre. While I lean towards the German view of science fiction, that of any adventure of the future, I have to admit the Lewis has a point. There is something to the English and American traditions that demands something more, despite how popular futurist adventures can be.

  Writers (The Mixed DM): In addition to old-school roleplaying games, I enjoy reading fantasy and science fiction stories. Unfortunately, there is a lot of garbage out there, so finding the good stuff can be hard.

Luckily, there are some authors out there writing great fantasy and science fiction. One of the authors bringing us good fiction is Kit Sun Cheah.

When I saw that he was doing a Kickstarter for a trilogy of novels that had an OSR influence, I asked him for an interview about the novels. Without further ado, here is the interview.

  Fiction (Track of Words): For this instalment I spoke to veteran Black Library author James Swallow about The Buried Dagger, his latest Horus Heresy novel – the 54th and final book in the main-range series! As befits the book that closes off the Horus Heresy this is a somewhat longer interview than usual, so settle down with a mug of recaff and enjoy!

  Cinema (Akratic Wizardy): As noted at this blog previously, Amazon Prime is coming out with a television series set in Middle-earth. Rotten Tomatoes has posted an article that goes over everything that is known publicly about the series at this time (and also engages in a fair bit of fun speculation).

  Gaming (Rleyh Reviews): Although the publication of Behind Enemy Lines by FASA in 1982 was the first roleplaying set during World War II, it would not be until the year 2001, the sixtieth anniversary of the United States of America’s entry into that conflict, that the hobby industry really became interested in the period with Pinnacle Entertainment Group, Inc.’s Weird War II: Blood on the Rhineand Godlike: Superhero Roleplaying in a World on Fire, 1936-1946 from Arc Dream Publishing. Both though added an extra genre to World War II, horror and superheroes respectively, whereas Steve Jackson Games’ GURPS World War II line kept it purely historical for the most part…

  Gaming (OSR News): There’s another, different OSR sale at DTRPG right now. I picked up a bunch of random stuff.

Official GW3 Cleansing War of Garik Blackhand –  Gamma World module about his fight vs the cult of Mr. Clean. $4.99 and 38 pages, also available in print.

Polyhedron 26 and 27 – 99 cents each. Actually has something interesting, what’s happening in Gamma World on Mars (both issues).

  Anime (Rawly Nyanzi): I’ve heard so much about the films of Hayao Miyazaki, but I had only seen Spirited Away prior to this one (and that was a long time ago.) Out of curiosity, I decided to watch his 1997 movie Princess Mononoke, which I remember the media speaking highly of when I was a kid. At the end of it, I came away quite impressed. Before reading anyone else’s thoughts on the movie, I decided to get my own thoughts down.

    Fiction Review (Catholic Reads): Ready for the end of the world, battle mechs, and body swaps? This collection of short stories has it all.

Strange Matter is a collection of short stories from one of my favorite contemporary authors. Niemeier has a range of talent, covering various genres in this volume including sci-fi and horror. It ranges from the whimsical to the terrifying, to the thought provoking.

  Fiction (Western Genre Musings): This 1893 work of historical theorizing offered as “The Frontier Hypothesis” has been influential on many historians, authors, and those with a libertarian bent.

I wager those with an attraction to the Western genre will find much food for thought in Turner’s essay.

I am struck by much of significance within it that I offer several lengthy examples below.

    Weapons (Paul Bishop): TV Westerns also had a passion for celebrity guns. Like celebrity horses, these gimmick guns were given to TV’s Western heroes in another attempt to make each show stand out from the competition. Many of the hybrid six-guns and rifles used to establish law and order on Hollywood’s backlots and sound stages were made by Ed Stembridge’s Gun Room at Paramount Studios.

  T.V. (Red Shirts Always Die): Cosmic horror, which is also known as Lovecraftian Horror, exists at a gloomy intersection of science fiction and horror.  Based on the works of H.P. Lovecraft, a storyteller who himself is on the opposite end of the spectrum from Gene Roddenberry in some respects, cosmic horror depicts people facing abysmal existential dread.  The strange happenings and encounters with mysterious and horrific beings serve only to remind the characters that they are merely insignificant humans.

    published first on https://medium.com/@ReloadedPCGames

[skincare-us-blog]

Claudia Schiffer

New Post has been published on http://skincareee.com/claudia-schiffer/

Claudia Schiffer

“I grew up in a small town in Germany near the Rhine River. I was quite shy in school and then one evening, I went to a discotheque in Dusseldorf. An agent was there when I was dancing to this song and he approached me and said, ‘You should be a model.’ And it kind of went off like that. I was quite a good dancer. [Laughs]

I never thought I could be a model, so when he stopped me in the nightclub, I thought it was by mistake. I told him if he was serious, he should talk to my parents. I never thought he’d actually give my parents a call. And he did call. My father was a lawyer, so he drew up a tight contract and said, ‘We’ll give it a go for one year, and at least you’ll come back speaking fluent French.’ At any moment, I thought they were going to realize that they made a mistake and send me back. I thought everyone in my school would confuse it with glamour modeling and so I didn’t tell anyone I was going to Paris. I would say that I was sick and go to Paris to do these one-day shoots while I was still in school. When I finally left for good, I said I was going to work for Chanel even though I didn’t have a contract there yet. Eventually that became the truth—and thank God, because I don’t like lying.

CAREER The first year, I got really lucky early on and started working with Elle magazine, which sent me around the world on all these different trips with Gilles Bensimon and Hans Feurer. Then I met Karl Lagerfeld and he asked me to join his show. That was around the time when runway models were different than fashion shoot models. And particularly at Chanel, everyone was quite like Coco Chanel. Slightly masculine, dark hair, and the models walked down runway in a very elegant way. I was so shy and I thought there was no way I could do that. Karl told me that all he wanted me to do was walk down the runway like I would normally walk down the street…‘Do it however you want. Be however you are. Don’t worry.’ Suddenly now there was a blonde girl walking down the runway, and she didn’t know how to walk and everyone was wondering what the hell was going on! [Laughs] Then Gianni Versace started doing spectacles instead of fashion shows. There was the lighting, the music change, a really high podium—people would have bought tickets to see a show like this. You would be walking down the runway to Prince and Prince would be sitting in the front row.

Immediately after I started working with Ellen von Unwerth, people started making the Brigitte Bardot comparisons. In her photography, Linda Evangelista was Sophia Loren, Milla Jovovich was Marilyn Monroe, and then I was Brigitte Bardot. A lot of photoshoots looked like that, it was the dark-eyed ‘60s makeup and the backcombed hair. She sent the pictures to Paul Marciano and said, ‘You should meet this girl.’ The Guess Jeans campaign followed, and that created a whole other wave of interest in fashion. After the Guess campaign was the first time anyone had recognized me.

When I started modeling, they said by age 30, my career would be over. But when I was 40, I was literally doing so many things—the boundaries kept changing. So you have your period where you’re trying to get to the top and then it becomes a question of, ‘How do you create longevity?’ Once I reached that, I decided that I only now want to do projects that I’m really excited about. Back then in the ‘90s in particular, I’d go from shoot to shoot and take it as just another job. When you look back, you realize how great these photographers are, even more so. I made a book of all those shoots with Rizzoli—it started from a bunch of Pinterest boards actually. Then we had to find the negatives because we didn’t have digital back then. There were actually a few they couldn’t find.

I never wanted to do anything outside of fashion and beauty because it was the family I lived in and breathed every single day. I didn’t really know anything else. All I wanted to do was succeed and work with the best people in all categories, from hair to makeup and styling. Designing was just a natural step. I learned a lot from designers, the fittings, the photographers and how they created things and how they got their inspiration to create the final result. I had my own ideas over the years and let out some of my creativity into a product.

MAKEUP Without sounding arrogant, I do know a lot about beauty products. If you imagine someone today learning something from a YouTube video, I’ve lived 30 years looking in a mirror. By that, you learn all the tricks—what works, what doesn’t, what’s not so good with natural light, all of those details. For that, I don’t need anyone’s advice. There’s not one thing I use all the time, except for my own line because everything [in it] was something I wanted. And I’ll send it back with feedback if necessary.

As I leave the house, I always put on mascara and use an eyelash curler. I love long eyelashes, so my mascara is lengthening and thickening. Artdeco Luxurious Volume Mascara works for that—I put it on top and bottom. Then I use a bit of an Illuminator and lip balm. I like to shape my brows with a brow pen because you can really correct where you need to and make the shape how you want it. I like to also use a really soft crayon and a clear gel. I got them waxed by this really famous person who used to wax everyone’s brows in the ‘90s, I forget the name. But when I got them done, I looked in the mirror and said, ‘That’s not me.’ Now I just leave them how they are.

I love a smoky eye because it makes your eye color pop. Not like Jean Shrimpton, more like Jane Birkin in the ‘60s. Those sort of effortless pictures where you just quickly smudge it around. It’s not really perfect, but it’s really dark. You start first with the mascara, and then the liner, and then just work in the powders around it. I definitely have to use a brush. My favorite shades for lips are different peaches and apricots from Nars and MAC. I just like a more natural look. On the cheeks, I like a fresh pink because it makes me look like I’ve just run around the block. And for contour, I like to use a soft brown powder. I apply it on high cheekbones and then I’ll use something light brown that’s sort of applied like you went on holiday and tanned really fast above your eyes, or the corner of your forehead and the top of your nose. When you do it together with a blush, it makes it look like you’re fresh and stepped out of the natural sun.

Also, I love having red nails on my toes and my hands all the time. It’s like having rings on or sunglasses—it’s just part of my look. In my line, my favorites are Popsicle and Kingsman.

HAIR This isn’t my natural color—it used to be my natural color! [Laughs] I used to have this hair color when I was growing up, and then I turned 17 it and got dark and I had to do highlights. Then it got even darker, so now, it’s really dark blonde. Anyone can dye it for me—I work with Schwarzkopf to develop the color so I have it on my own. I just need someone to apply it to the roots.

My hair goes through different stages because of the color. When I put in my conditioner, I comb it in from the bottom-up to avoid breakage. I also cut it regularly to keep it healthy. But I’ve never had a huge hair change because if I did, I’d never work. My contracts literally said, ‘You are not allowed to cut your hair.’ [Laughs] I did a Steven Meisel shoot where I was a brunette with a short hair, but that was a wig.

I do my hair with tongs. My favorite way to have my hair styled is with a soft wave, but if I do it myself, it’s straight. I just use a literal hairbrush and a blowdryer to go in and smooth it all out. I do like the brushes that have soft bristles that go in between. Mason Pearson brushes are too soft and wouldn’t get all my knots out—I need one that’s slightly harder. Harry Josh has a great line of hairdryers that I love. They also work really well.

SKINCARE In the morning, I just shower and wash my face with water. And then I moisturize a lot. When I apply anything, I make sure to massage my face to get the blood moving. Bamford is what I use for the basics—I do the serum, then oil, then cream. In the morning, it helps seal everything in and calm everything down. They also make a cleansing and clearing mask that I like to use when I take an Epsom salt bath. Sisley also makes some creams that are really hydrating—their Black Rose Cream in particular. At night when I’m really tired I do make an exception to not take off my makeup. I’ll just do it in the morning. Being a mom didn’t change my approach to beauty, the only thing it made me do was do it faster. [Laughs] There’s not time to do anything when you’re taking care of your kids.”

Claudia Schiffer photographed by Tom Newton in New York on October 19, 2017. Claudia wears an Isabel Marant sweater and Ulla Johnson jeans.

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Mohololo & Tshukudu

In the morning I went to Moholoholo Rehabilitation center.  The take in injured animals and try to nurse them back to health and release them back into the wild.  If they can’t rehabilitate them sufficiently to release, then they give them a good home on the site.  Some of the animals that can’t be released are used as “Ambassadors” on trips to schools to teach the local kids about wildlife.  They have lots of birds there, but also Lions, Leopards, Cheetahs and Hyenas.  Not a lot of photo opportunities due to fencing and enclosures.

In the afternoon I went to Tshukudu private reserve for an afternoon/evening game drive.  Saw Rhinos, Elephants, Crocs, Buffalo, and just after dark, a pride of Lions moving to hunt.  Also got to see a Puff Adder up close and personal.  That was pretty cool.  They have amazing camouflage.  I can see why so many people step on them and get bitten.  Fortunately, they are not aggressive if you don’t step on them.

A croc catching the last of the afternoon sun.

This Elephant at dusk was so close that this is a wide angle shot.

Got a nice Hippo Yawn.  Though they do this quite a lot, its hard to catch on camera because you have to be pointed at the right Hippo at the right time.

A nice tree reflection in a waterhole.

Sun rays peeking through a gap in the clouds.

A Mom Rhine and her youngster.

This is the first Puff Adder I’ve ever seen.  They are so well camouflaged that you could walk right by one and never notice it.