#taxi a verona

[verona2314]

Judgment of the Damned (translation) PART IV

Link part III

Summary:

In the realm of Limbo, where souls deemed too good for Hell but not virtuous enough for Heaven reside, Victoria finds herself thrust into an unprecedented mission. When a notorious sinner, Sir Pentious, achieves redemption and ascends to Heaven, it sends shockwaves through all realms. Tasked with unraveling this mystery, Victoria, a minor judge of souls, is sent to the infamous Hazbin Hotel in Hell. For the first time, an emissary from Limbo steps foot into the fiery depths, tasked with observing and judging the denizens of Hell for their potential for redemption. As Victoria navigates this unfamiliar territory, she captures the unrequired attention of the enigmatic Radio Demon, Alastor. Amidst the chaos of demonic antics and the pursuit of understanding redemption, Victoria must confront her own beliefs and judgments. As she delves deeper into the secrets of the Hazbin Hotel, Victoria uncovers hidden truths about sinners, redemption, and the ultimate fate of souls caught between damnation and salvation. With each soul she encounters, Victoria's journey becomes not only a quest for answers but a personal voyage of self-discovery in the heart of darkness.

Chapter 4: Rumors from the Past

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Hey, its me "Verona". I just want to say a liiitle thing before you start your reading....I must say, this chapter was quite a challenge to translate due to the archaic English in which Zestial should speak. In advance, I apologize. I hope you enjoy the chapter. Love u! (Yep. Spanish is my native language, and yes, there is a Spanish version of this work.)

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Angeldust

His body ached all over, as was customary after a day of filming with Valentino. Ever since their little disagreement at the bar, the bastard hadn't given him a moment's rest. He was beginning to wonder if he could keep this up forever, or if he should start imagining the impossible and find a way to free himself from that contract. He shifted uncomfortably in the taxi seat. He needed a good shower.

After a few more minutes of travel, the vehicle stopped outside the hotel. Angel got out and looked up at the building. He hated to admit it, but that place had become a space where he felt safe, relaxed, and happy. A place he always wanted to return to... a home. He shook his head slowly, smiling as he walked towards the hotel. They had really softened him up. Maybe he could buy those lunatics something nice.

He opened the door, stepping into the hotel. The lobby was completely dark and everything was silent. That struck him as odd. Suddenly, he felt someone lunging at him and putting a sack over his head. He tried to break free but his attacker was too strong. He fell to the ground where his arms were tied.

"WHO ARE YOU? WHAT ARE YOU DOING? HELP!" he exclaimed as he was dragged into a room. His assailant leaned him against a wall and removed the sack from his head. Angel looked around and saw Niffty to his right, also tied up. To his left, Husk was in the same condition. "What's going on?"

"Relax," Husk replied irritably.

Angel wanted to ask more but at that moment, he saw someone entering the room.

"Alright," said Vaggie, "now that I have you all gathered here, there's an important matter to discuss."

"Vaggie? What the hell is wrong with you! Why did you tie us up? Have you gone mad?" shouted Angel, feeling indignant. Just moments ago, he had felt so relieved to have returned to the hotel and now this.

"I apologize for the extreme measure, but I needed to have you all gathered without causing a mess. There's something very important you need to know, and you must not speak of it outside of this hotel under any circumstances," Vaggie said in a very serious tone. "There's no simple way to say this. We have a very important guest in the hotel and it's crucial to make a very good impression on her, so you must behave. Niffty, don't stab insects in front of this person, Husk, try to be less gloomy, and Angel, don't be so…horny.

"Can I step on the bugs in front of her?" Niffty asked. "Besides, ever since I started the war in the attic, there aren't as many."

"Ugh, sure," Vaggie replied.

"Who is this soooo important person?" Angel grumbled. He didn't want to have to watch his behavior in a place he considered his home. "I mean, we tried to act well when Charlie's father came, and everything went fine. In the end, we didn't even have to keep up appearances. Why would it be different this time?"

"Angel, please, you have to listen to me this time," Vaggie responded.

"I think we deserve a better explanation. I agree with leggies," Husk said. Vaggie sighed.

"Fine. But as I already told you, this must be kept secret. Limbo is real, and a minor judge from there is staying here. She will be studying sinners, making a report on them, and determining the chances of redemption. In short."

The room fell silent as they watched Vaggie, processing the information.

"Vaggie," Angel said softly, "What the hell did you smoke?"

Vaggie let out a frustrated growl before speaking again. "Fine. Let's start over. I'll explain everything. But please, we have to help Charlie

Victoria

She woke up with her face resting on the documents. She looked around a little disoriented. It was barely nightfall. She couldn't believe she had fallen asleep. She couldn't afford to nap when she had so much work ahead of her. Her eyes still felt sleepy. Perhaps it wasn't a bad idea to get up and walk around the hotel to shake off the laziness.

She stretched in her seat before getting up and leaving the room. It was a relief to be able to wander the place freely without the deer-ears guy nearby. The decoration of the place was very beautiful and sophisticated. The place gleamed now that it had been reconstructed following Adam's attempt to eradicate these sinners. Victoria struggled to understand how anyone could take pleasure in destroying souls, but, well, Cain must have inherited his temperament from somewhere.

She descended to the first floor via the main staircase, admiring the magnificent chandelier hanging over the hall. Suddenly, she could notice a strange movement among the crystals and bulbs. A kind of red spot moved with agility. She squinted trying to understand what she was seeing. At that moment, she collided head-on with someone.

"I'm so sorry!" exclaimed a boy. His appearance reminded her of a spider.

Victoria mentally reviewed the files she had read. The person in front of her was a resident of the hotel... Angeldust, real name Anthony. "Don't worry, I wasn't paying attention to where I was walking," she responded amiably.

"No, I insist. Let me make it up to you. How about a massage?" Angel replied nervously. "It'll release all your tension! Not in a sexual way! Ah, it's not that you're not attractive, but you're just not my type. Not that there's anything wrong with you. I mean, it's bad that you're not... No! That's not what I meant. I like to... you know... but not with you. It's just that..."

Victoria listened to Angel's verbal diarrhea, bewildered. What the hell was he talking about? She couldn't make sense of anything, let alone why he was acting so nervous.

"I could massage your feet. Not that I have a weird fetish!"

"Angel, don't say anything else," interrupted a gruff voice from a demon with feline features. Victoria searched her memory again. That must be Husk. The hotel's bartender subtly moved her away from Angel with his wings. "Uh, um, Judge, how about a magic trick?"

Had he just called her judge? Now everything made sense. "No, no. Don't worry. Hey, I know what this is all about."

"Damn it, Husk, you called her judge," grumbled Vaggie, entering the room.

"Look," Victoria began in a friendly tone, "it's really not necessary for you to try to pamper or flatter me. I'm not here with any ill intentions or prejudices. I hope you can treat me like anyone else, without thinking about my judge status. Which I had hoped would remain confidential. But it doesn't matter. I trust I'll have a very good opinion of all of you."

As soon as she finished speaking, something struck her head. She looked down and saw it was a shard of crystal.

"Watch out!" Vaggie shouted, pushing her aside just as the chandelier crashed down from the ceiling with a loud bang. Victoria sat on the floor, observing the scene. Vaggie had managed to evade the impact. From the ruins of the fixture emerged a small woman with a large eye, who laughed nervously.

"Sorry. I was cleaning the crystals. Uh... does this count as attempted murder if it was accidental, right?"-Niffty said. 

"This is fucked up already. Judge Victoria, welcome to the Hazbin Hotel, where this shit will be your daily life," Husk growled, opening a beer can and leaving the foyer. "I'm not cleaning up that shit."

"What a relief, I couldn't keep up with this forced smile anymore. How the hell does Alastor do it?" Angel added, following Husk.

"Well, Judge," Vaggie said, standing up, "at least they tried."

Alastor

The meeting with the Overlords turned out somewhat predictable. It was evident that Carmilla would be on alert for the potential repercussions following Adam's death. Hell had defended itself adequately for the first time, and that was unprecedented. Overall, the entire meeting revolved around obtaining weapons, planning measures in case of another attack, unity, strength, and similar matters.

But Alastor's mind was focused on more interesting affairs. He knew the judge wouldn't give him much information about... anything. He had already learned that she was a stubborn, reserved, composed, and very intelligent woman. Her witty responses irritated him but were also refreshing. Perhaps deep down, he hoped to have another confrontation with her, but this time, more prepared.

As the congregation neared its end, Alastor directed his gaze towards today's target, Zestial. The ancient being returned his gaze with curiosity. The radio demon simply smiled even wider. It's not that he particularly relished the idea of interacting with that Overlord, but if anyone had answers, it was him. Of course, he had to be careful with his words, as he didn't want anyone else trying to approach the judge, for now. No. It was convenient to keep her presence in hell a secret for the time being. It didn't take a genius to understand that someone like her could be a very important card to play. And…Under no circumstances could he underestimate Zestial, as he was very skilled at noticing subtleties.

"Very well. Does anyone want to add anything?" Carmilla declared before concluding the meeting. As everyone began to leave, Alastor didn't even manage to get up from his seat before he immediately felt a presence behind him.

"Greetings, Alastor," Zestial spoke with that characteristic resonant voice of his. "I knoweth not if mine senses art dulled, but I deem I hath perceived thou didst seek to engage in discourse with me." 

Alastor emitted a slight laugh. "Always so perceptive, Zestial. You're correct. Will you have a few minutes before you go to your teatime with the esteemed Carmilla?"

Carmilla watched them from the doorway of the meeting room. Zestial nodded to her, who, at such a gesture, left the room, closing the door behind her. The ancient being took a seat opposite him and observed him with great interest.

“Very well, Alastor, thou hast mine full attention. I must say, our discourse is always... captivating.-Said the Overlord.

"Oh, Zestial, I hope not to disappoint you. I just wanted to ask you about a matter that seems more myth than reality," Alastor replied in a casual tone. Zestial seemed more intrigued. "Well, I won't keep you on the edge of your seat any longer. How true is what they say about Limbo?"

Zestial narrowed his eyes and his smile widened. Alastor didn't expect that reaction. He thought the Overlord would laugh and say that stories about Limbo were just children's tales

"Dear friend, I implore thee not to fall into the error of the majority, thinking that all concerning Limbo is mere invention. For in every fable lies a grain of truth. I suppose thou hast heard what is commonly said. That Limbo, also known as the intermediary realm, is where souls go that are not sinful enough to merit hell, yet not virtuous enough to enter heaven. But in its origins, there was more. But of course, I would like to know, why dost thou show interest in this matter?"

"These are personal matters. Perhaps I could refrain from giving you details if, in exchange for your knowledge, I were to resolve a certain inconvenience Carmilla is dealing with... and what difficulties, I must say!" responded Alastor as he playfully moved his fingers. What he was doing was somewhat risky. But it was worth it.

Zestial emitted a deep chuckle. "I note thou art well-informed. Aye, 'tis true that a new pest hath arisen, seeking to snatch Carmilla's market. Naught that we cannot resolve."

"Oh, but this way I spare you the hassle and the time. I believe it's fair, considering I'm merely asking for some unverified information," Alastor said, and he and Zestial locked eyes for a brief moment. The radio demon knew he couldn't show even a hint of doubt or greater interest in the matter.

"Very well," Zestial finally responded. "Be that as it may, I reckon that sooner or later I shall uncover thy true intentions…In mine early years here in the inferno, 'twas spoken that when the heavens were forged, Limbo stood as a neutral ground to settle disputes and judge the angels' conduct. 'Twas only the supreme judges present then. But in general, there weren't many issues until the incident o' the apple. From that moment forth, with the inception o' hell, Limbo would become the intermediary 'twixt heaven and hell. Not merely for receiving souls, but also for resolving grave disputes 'tween both realms, akin to an international court. With this evolution came the minor judges. On one hand, the supreme judges continued their role as an international court, alongside judging mortal souls. On the other hand, the minor judges were tasked with settling conflicts 'mongst inhabitants of the same domain that couldn't be resolved internally, serving as an appellate body. Of course, they also bore the duty of crafting records of human deeds upon the Earth. But that part's well-known to all."

"Interesting. So, if two angels had a problem they couldn't resolve themselves, could they turn to a minor judge to decide the matter?" Alastor asked to make sure he was getting it all.

"Indeed," Zestial replied, conjuring a teacup before taking a brief sip before continuing, "But you must already know that there weren't as many issues in heaven. The spotlight was on hell, not for murders or thefts, but for something more subtle: contracts." Zestial looked at Alastor attentively, trying to gauge his reaction, but the radio demon remained unfazed. "Supposedly, a minor judge had the power to modify or annul a contract, of course, adhering to the rules or laws of hell."

"Hmm? Contracts, you say?" Alastor prompted Zestial to continue.

"Aye, that's what was told in my time. It was also said that a catastrophic event occurred, causing the Limbo's communications to shut down from their end. However, Alastor, processes don't vanish. The mere fact that Limbo has isolated itself doesn't imply that there's no longer an avenue for appeal."

"Oh, but if that were true, we would still have demons trying to make appeals," Alastor pointed out, resting his chin on his intertwined hands.

“That's the other curious bit. Allegedly, they wiped out all who knew of that process to let it fade away. Does the appeals process truly not exist, or is it just that no one knows how to activate it anymore?”.

Alastor looked silently at Zestial. He couldn't determine if the ancient creature believed in those stories or not. But if that process really existed... perhaps. Unfortunately, he still had no way to verify it. Alastor inclined his head before speaking again, "Well. We can't really know. Anyway, all of this is just legends. It doesn't sound like these minor judges are very strong."

“Perhaps they don't have great destructive power, but it certainly was useful to have one as an ally. In addition to being able to modify or annul a contract, they also had access to the information of all sinners and angels. On the other hand, every judge has two basic powers. The oath and The mandate of the judge.”

"The oath?" Alastor asked, feigning disinterested tone. He was surprised at how enthusiastic Zestial seemed about this topic.

“Indeed. If a minor judge asked you to swear an oath and you agreed, you were bound to speak the truth. If you were to lie, the judge would detect it immediately and, if desired, could inflict great pain upon you as a consequence.”

“And the other one?”

"Ah, the judge's mandate? Or rather, known as the command. Basically, it entails the judge exercising their authority by issuing an order that cannot be disobeyed, as if a force were controlling your body. Of course, the scope and strength of this mandate depend on the power and rank of the judge. The mandate of a minor judge is usually not very strong, limited to simple commands like 'sit' or 'be silent', essential for maintaining order in a court, thus not very enduring. But that of a supreme judge... well, it is said that it was precisely that which condemned Lucifer to hell.”

“Well, I'll give you that. If these judges were real and contact could be made with them, they would clearly be a magnificent ally."

Zestial chuckled maliciously “Precisely, and I reckon all the sinners and demons had the same notion, wouldn't you say? It wouldn't surprise me if the big catastrophe were tied to millions of those minor judges getting corrupted or extorted by the infernal lot to reap benefits from the appeals, changing contracts to their whims. Well, but then again, none of this is quite verifiable or true. Right?”

Alastor didn't like the tone of voice Zestial used in that last sentence. The ancient being was beginning to suspect. Why was he suspicious now? He had been careful with each of his expressions. Could his memory of Victoria asking them for silence during the meeting with Charlie have caused some gesture that caught his interlocutor's attention? Alastor couldn't help but think that that request could have been a judge´s mandate subtly carried out by Victoria, implying that at least one of the powers mentioned by Zestial was true.

Alastor glanced at Zestial again just as he narrowed his eyes. Damn it. It wasn't time to think about that. That damned judge was making things complicated with this Overlord just by appearing in his memories. "Indeed!" he responded in an animated tone, trying to dispel the seriousness of the atmosphere. "After all, they're mere stories."

Zestial chuckled softly, "Yes, but it surprises me that you're wasting your time on mere tales."

"Oh, you all with your theories about me. It's a delight to hear your conspiracies. I simply wanted to satisfy the curiosity that arose in me after reading a dramatic work where they staged this Limbo," Alastor continued nonchalantly as he rose from his seat.

"Verily, I am acquainted with that tome," said Zestial, rising to his feet to accompany Alastor to the door of the conference room. "Indeed, it doth portray Limbo akin to the contemporary lore. Yet, one aspect hath ever intrigued me. Mayhaps I am overly fastidious regarding artistic license."

"What might that be?"

"Well, that literary work mentions seven supreme judges. Not five."

LINK PART V

[katyliz415]

lil nas x said mpreg rights | my favorite songs from the plague year (2!)

2020 playlist | 2019 playlist | 2018 playlist

full tracklist under cut

arizona / ms. white // blaze & sybil's lullaby / ben dickey & alia shawkat // don't wanna / haim // brothers / hanggai // guitar song (live) / frou frou // the wellerman / the norfolk broads // julianna calm down / the chicks // let the tall ships sail / walter martin // my lagan love / the chieftains w/ lisa hannigan // ain't got no (i got life) / nina simone // silver dagger / dolly parton // infatuation / sophie // travelers / andrew prahlow // ode to billie joe / bobbie gentry // all together now / ok go // stil love / great caesar // rooftop dancing / sylvan esso // robert henry / the westerlies // doom days / bastille // in waves / house of waters // thunder clatter / wild cub // dear august / pj harding & noah cyrus // slow dancing / aly & aj // pledging my love / fawn wood // sono inochi / kaho nakamura // harlem / jazzboy // whiskey c'est mon ami / pine leaf boys // fabulous / c.u.t. // hainamady town / toumani diabete & the london symphony orchestra // runaway (guitar acoustic) / aurora // difyrrwch / the trials of cato // with you (a sweet little love song) / valeria june // half a mind / freddy & francine // in his arms / jack ingram, miranda lambert, & jon randall // angel island / the brother brothers // montero (call me by your name) / lil nas x // sahara / debanjan biswas & akshay dabhadkar // symptom of your touch / aly & aj // halfway tree / the east pointers // kiss me more / doja cat & sza // jubilee / the war and treaty // mara / jack garrett / ooh ahh! / miguel // fraulein / colter wall & tyler childers // the medicine man / keb' mo' & old crow medicine show // fruits of my labor / waxahatchee // buzz / maddie medley // whipporwill / chance mccoy // train song / feist and benjamin gibbard // garden / nahko and medicine for the people // down the road / stan rogers // rita mae young / the record company // last laugh / elise davis // empty threat / chvrches // find yourself / lukas nelson and promise of the real // dog in a manger / smooth hound smith // don't lose sight / lawrence // krivo polska / hazelius hedin, esbjorn hazelius, & johan hedin // i wish i was the moon / neko case // pizza day / lucky chops // surefire (piano) / wilderado // pilgrim / john mark mcmillan // live for it / moon taxi // remember when / tinashe // this can't be love / dinah washington // getaway / vincint & tegan and sara // without your love / the paper kites w/ julia stone // breath i breathe / ayla nereo // be and bring me home / neko case // jalebi baby / tesher & jason derulo // colors / black pumas // water me down / vagabon // stay (little dragon remix) / valerie june // shade of yellow / griff // cloudy day / tones and i // wine, beer, whiskey / little big town // song of my returning / phil ochs // skate / silk sonic // magnolia blues / adia victoria // i need my girl / aly & aj // rumors / lizzo feat. cardi b // long tailed winter bird / paul mccartney & idris elba // worry no more / amos lee // can't do much / waxahatchee // butter / bts feat. megan thee stallion // love's been a little bit hard on me / juice newton // devil like me / rainbow kitten surprise // in the image / beverly glenn-copeland // hands up / bent knee // verona (stripped) / geographer // coming home / honne feat. niki // oba, la vem ela / jorge ben jor

[lamilanomagazine]

Verona, entro l'estate al via il servizio Taxi Rosa con linea dedicata a sostegno delle vittime di violenza e stalking

Verona, entro l'estate al via il servizio Taxi Rosa con linea dedicata a sostegno delle vittime di violenza e stalking. Sono tante le iniziative messe in campo dall'Amministrazione per garantire strumenti e servizi a dimensione di una città delle donne. Uno di questi riguarda l'accordo tra il Comune e l'Unione Radiotaxi Verona per introdurre, entro l'inizio dell'estate, una linea dedicata e sicura per permettere di spostarsi in città o tornare a casa di sera e di notte in tutta tranquillità. Ai tassisti verrà data la possibilità di partecipare a corsi di formazione mirati, volti a sensibilizzarli sulle problematiche legate alla violenza di genere e a fornire loro gli strumenti necessari per intervenire in caso di situazioni di pericolo. È importante sottolineare che i tassisti, già da tempo sono sensibili al tema visto che  durante il servizio quando accompagnano le donne, sanno di dover  aspettare in strada finché non sono entrate in casa. Inoltre, su ogni taxi sono presenti gli adesivi che pubblicizzano il 1522, numero gratuito attivo 24 ore su 24 con operatrici specializzate che accolgono le richieste di aiuto e sostegno delle vittime di violenza e stalking. Per sostenere economicamente l'iniziativa della nuova linea dedicata, e renderla accessibile a tutte le donne che ne vorranno usufruire, verranno emessi dei buoni grazie a risorse messe a disposizione dal Comune. "Abbiamo perfezionato i contenuti di questa proposta che, una volta completata, verrà messa a terra insieme ad altre iniziative che riguarderanno altre attività su questa tematica – spiega l'assessora alla Sicurezza Stefania Zivelonghi -. È lo step più importante e di maggior impatto di un progetto ben più ampio, che coinvolgerà anche Atv e altre realtà del territorio per un continuo miglioramento dei servizi e garantire una mobilità serena alle donne". "Siamo a fianco dell'Amministrazione per sostenere tutte le iniziative e i messaggi che possono aiutare le donne – sottolinea il presidente dell'Unione Radiotaxi Verona Daniele Garonzi -. Da anni abbiamo come forma di cortesia di aspettare che rientrino a casa quando siamo in piena notte. I tassisti fanno già una parte nel sociale operando uno sconto del 20 % ai disabili, e siamo disponibili a mettere a disposizione del Comune la nostra tecnologia per la gestione di eventuali buoni messi a disposizione. Inoltre aderiremo alla proposta di partecipare a corsi di formazione per dare un ulteriore aiuto alle donne o a soggetti in difficoltà, una tematica che ci interessa moltissimo. Potremo farli nella nostra sede, riuscendo a istruire tutti i 177 tassisti che fanno parte della cooperativa". Il pacchetto di iniziative a cui sta lavorando l'assessora alla Sicurezza Stefania Zivelonghi vede il coinvolgimento del Gruppo Donne di Confimi Apindustria Verona che plaude alla concretizzazione dell'iniziativa, una di una serie, come sottolinea anche la presidente Marisa Smaila. "Come Gruppo Donne di Confimi Apindustria Verona abbiamo voluto fare qualcosa di concreto contro la violenza di genere, nella convinzione che per contrastare questo fenomeno si debba investire innanzitutto nella formazione e nell'informazione delle persone. Formazione e informazione che devono raggiungere tutti i livelli della nostra società: dalle scuole alle nostre aziende, dalle strade della città ai luoghi che frequentiamo. Non possiamo aspettarci che debbano essere soltanto le Forze dell'ordine o i centri anti-violenza ad occuparsi della violenza di genere. Esiste una sfumatura grigia, ed è quella dell'indifferenza, che deve essere cancellata. Come? Con una maggiore attenzione e presa di coscienza da parte di tutti, attraverso piccoli gesti che ciascuno di noi può compiere nel quotidiano o azioni più coordinate come quelle che caratterizzano questo progetto che pensa sì alle donne ma che ha una ricaduta positiva sull'intera società".... #notizie #news #breakingnews #cronaca #politica #eventi #sport #moda Read the full article

[bike42]

Almost as soon as we returned from last year’s Yoga Retreat at Imiloa Institute near Dominical Costa Rica, we booked again for this year. Jeff said he’d never been so relaxed in his life (even though he failed a heart stress test the following week and received two more stents in his Cardiac Artery).

Since we’re somewhat retired now, I thought it’d be great to add on another week down here. We’d already done the thrilling adventures here when we did a REI trip to celebrate Jeff’s 60th birthday 12 years ago. We got word that the Verona Methodist Church was doing a mission trip to Guatemala the week before our retreat so we signed on to that. Flying from San Juan CR to Guatemala City is like flying from Madison to Minneapolis, after all! However, about 4 weeks ago that portion of our trip was cancelled due to some political insurgency that doesn’t make our news (but would if the radicals kidnapped some American missionaries)!

I was bummed but not deterred. I turned to Andrea Russell, our Yoga Retreat leader for suggestions. Besides leading two weeks of retreats, she stays in CR for nearly three months until winter is nearly over. She suggested Drake Bay / Osa Peninsula - specifically Aquila Lodge. I contacted them and of course they were fully booked, but we stayed in touch and they were able to piece together 7 nights for us, but it’ll require moving rooms several times. We can do that!

We had an early departure from Madison; 5am boarding time!! Ryan offered to drive us, but it was so early. We booked an Uber for 4:30am and that worked great. One hour after we crawled out of bed we were strapped in our seats on the plane. First flight was to Atlanta, where we had a gorgeous sunrise probably somewhere over Tennessee.

Tight connection there so we speed walked from terminal C to the International terminal and boarded the flight to CR. Three and a half hours - for the first time on a plane we listened to the audiobook we’d started last week. I overlapped a bit with blackjack on the seat back screen.

We arrived in San Jose shortly after noon, spent an hour in the immigration line, collected our bags and headed towards the little domestic terminal. A polite young man wanted to show us the way and we let him and paid him a $5 tip.

Check in at Sensa Airlines was funny. We had to pay an extra $10 for our heavy checked luggage. Then they weighed our carry on bags, and then they weighed us (glad I didn’t have to pay extra for the pounds I’ve been carrying on my body since the holidays!). We had about 90 minutes to wait for our flight. We had a snack, chatted with some guys from Charlotte and watched people.

We boarded our little Cessna early and took off about 3:45pm. While it was a warm and sunny day, there were clouds on the mountains, and soon we were surrounded by clouds - more than a little frightening as we know there are other little airplanes up here too.

After about 30 minutes, we were out over the ocean and could see the shore, and soon, the tiny airstrip that was Drake Bay. Glad to be on the ground again! Inside the terminal we were greeted by a guy who led us to a truck that had one of those mufflers mounted high on the hood for river crossings! We soon saw why! He wasn’t local, but said he’s been here about two weeks helping his girlfriend with “transportation services.” He bumped us over some rough roads and rivers, through the tiny village of Drake Bay and to the beach. There we met two guys in a water taxi that brought us to the resort.

Alex met us at the dock and walked us up to the open air restaurant. The resort includes breakfast, lunch, and dinner in a communal dining style. We had about 90 minutes before dinner, so he walked us to our room and told us a bit more about the property. Tonight we’re staying in “Esmeralda House,” about halfway down the path towards the village. Our beautiful view is of the beach where we caught the water taxi. The house is rustic, but will be fine. I’m glad they could accommodate us with such short notice. We changed and relaxed a bit, before grabbing our flashlights and venturing back to the restaurant (so glad we arrived during day light!).

We had a mango cocktail, amazing ceviche appetizer, salad and huge tuna steaks for dinner … chocolate cheesecake for dessert. Back to our house for quick showers and hopefully a good nights rest with the sound of the jungle mixed with the sound of the sea!

[eliteroyal25]

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[snellblogs]

THE ROAD TO VENICE

Arsenale stop on Colonna,

Garibaldi street

Venice..

June 8 23

 10.15 pm

  I did all the last minute tasks like getting Euros in cash, and downloading apps for airlines and a hard copy of the boarding passes and the coach.  There was also shopping for the right clothes, very thin for the weight of the luggage and then there is the rain forecast for Verona so where is the multi coloured umbrella?

 It was such a long day and so much has happened.  I woke up in Reading and get a drive to the coach for Heathrow, which I caught with two minutes to spare.  I had just the person to see me off on a trip.  Why am I doing this, you say to yourself?  Because I was asked.

 Also, I would be a fool to turn down a trip to Venice, wouldn’t I? But I really liked my home that I am trying to turn into to a homely cottage.  It has rather a lot of character though.

 So I leave the South West, a rural area and board the crowded Heathrow coach until I reach the right airport and airline and meet up with my travelling companion.

 Flying is the same as ever, it’s been so many years since I went anywhere.  Except now there is an issue with luggage, how big it is and how many you may take.  We all sit very close together, I don’t remember that and there isn’t that romance anymore is there.  But maybe that’s a Canadian thing.

 So we made our flight after queueing in snake lines and I just smiled, what can you say?  That it didn’t use to be like this?  Nobody wants to hear that, but it’s true, it was lovely travelling, the freedom, the romance.

 The flight was lovely, perfect weather except for a little turbulence as we neared Italy, the mystery over luggage and what you can and can’t take with you.  I took my keyboard. I have to be able to write.  I have my pen and paper too.

 Here in Italy I have no idea what’s going on.  It’s rather nice, bit like being a kid again because my opinion is not asked, not deemed important which it isn’t because I don’t understand any of the adult happenings.

 So I made it to Stansted airport with all the hundreds of people going away because it is June and we are in a holiday mood and it strikes me that the English love to travel, and chase the sun.

  Having landed in Venice we take the water taxi where my companion meets a retired English vicar and his wife from Camborne who spend month at a time here in Venice, just because they like it.  What an interesting type.  They have all the Brunetti books by Julia…and come several times a year and follow the Brunetti walk that has been created for those who follow the books.

NEXT: Getting Around in Venice.

www.lynnepearl.com

Lynne Pearl at Goodreads

[micro961]

Matteo E Io - “Un letto qualsiasi”

Il nuovo brano di Matteo e Io, giovane artista veronese

Un letto qualsiasi è un singolo che parla della vita, delle sue difficoltà e delle sue sfide.

Una canzone che racconta di quanto un letto possa essere un posto qualsiasi e sconosciuto se non hai con te la persona che ami

 Matteo Poletti, in arte Matteo E Io, nasce il 22 dicembre del 1993 a Verona. La passione per la scrittura di brani inediti da lui composti lo proietterà già all’età di 15 anni a confermarsi come cantautore scrivendo il suo primo album che sarà, dopo un breve periodo, arrangiato e prodotto insieme alla band da lui stesso formata chiamata “United Ways”. Successivamente, dopo alcuni cambi di formazione nel corso degli anni, tra il 2019 ed il 2020 saranno pubblicati quattro nuovi singoli tra qui “Quasi Alla Fine” che permetterà alla band di toccare per la prima volta classifiche, giornali e radio su scala nazionale. Dopo anni spesi all’interno di questo progetto “United Ways”, decide di intraprendere nel 2021 un percorso che lo porterà a definirsi sotto una nuova veste da solista. Il 26 novembre 2021 esce il suo primo singolo da solista “Le luci dei taxi” e il 18 febbraio 2022 esce “Cuspide”, brano che entra in generazione z e ci rimane per otto settimane.

 Etichetta: Orangle Srl - www.oranglerecords.com

 Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/artist/4Zx1FdnVj10w170XV0GzvO

 Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/matteo_e_io/?hl=it

 l’altoparlante - comunicazione musicale

www.laltoparlante.it

info@laltoparlante.it

[aloneinstitute]

Olá amigos,

Faz 3 dias q estou de volta ao Brasil e depois de colocar o sono em dia e descansar bastante lembrei de algumas dicas q gostaria de passar pra ajudar quem está planejando a sua viagem ou até pra quem já está de malas prontas.

DICAS ÚTEIS:

Na volta para o Brasil, no check-in foi solicitado cartão de vacina q poderia ser mostrado pelo app ou impresso. Eu estava com o meu impresso e isso ajudou na rapidez do atendimento.

Tax free - eu estava em Milão e todas as empresas são no quadrilátero da moda, então, passei e já peguei o dinheiro, o q foi bom pq assim não precisaria sacar e pagar taxa. Eles solicitam o cartão de crédito como garantia pq no aeroporto vc tem q passar no guiche da empresa e carimbar o papel q eles te entregam. Se nao fizer isso eles debitam o valor dado do seu cartão. Achei q valeu super a pena. No aeroporto Fiumicino todos os guiches ficam no T3 perto dos balcões dos check-in.

Cartão da Wise como todos sabem é excelente mas sugiro q façam ele digital no celular ( pagamento por aproximação com o celular) e guardem o físico. Pq em caso de perda do cartão vc não consegue sacar dinheiro o q pode te deixar em apuros. Eu perdi o meu e só depois comecei a usar o digital e teve uma maquina do hotel q o digital não funcionou e se não tivesse dinheiro eu teria me lascado. Por isso, achei essa dica bem valiosa pra vcs.

Se tiverem de carro e forem estacionar nos Parkings, lembrem-se de ter moedas. Se a hora custar 1euro e 20 e vc colocar 1 euro e 50, não tem problema pq a máquina calcula os minutos a mais q vc está pagando. Uma coisa muito importante, o bilhete deve ser colocado em cima do painel do carro para o fiscal ver. Caso contrário, vc leva multa. Falo isso, pq vi gente pagando e colocando o comprovante no bolso e o fiscal não tem como adivinhar q vc pagou neh.

Eu fiz uma pasta com tudo impresso por dia e local. Caso a Internet não funcionasse eu estava com o comprovante de tudo.

Nos hotéis basta falar o nome em q está a reserva e ok. Prestem atenção qdo forem reservar pq alguns hotéis cobram a taxa na hora tah e outros compram na reserva o q ajuda muito na hora do check-out q é só deixar a chave qdo sair. Em Verona precisava sair as 7h e o check-out era só as 8h mas como já tinha pago td foi só entregar a chave.

Qdo cheguei no Roma Termini comprei um chip da Ilíad e funcionou na Itália inteira sem problema nenhum. Paguei 20 euros por 120Mg mas no Roma Termini tem Tim e Vodafone tb.

Metrô em Roma é super fácil e em Milão tb.

Em Verona o Táxi foi a minha opção para ir para estação de trem com mala. Fiquei hospedada perto do centro e é distante da estação. Basta vc ligar e pedir o táxi q eles te informam em qto tempo o taxi mais próximo chega. Não adianta querer reservar para o dia seguinte, por exemplo, pq vai sair cedo. Tem q ligar na hora q vai pegar o Táxi. O telefone é +39044532666

O Pantheon em Roma quem for visita-lo sábado, domingo e feriado precisa agendar o horário da visita on line.

Acho q é isso mas se alguém quiser mais alguma informação, estou à disposição.

PS. Já estou com sdds da Itália 🇮🇹🥰

[lamilanomagazine]

A Verona 40 taxi in più grazie alle nuove licenze

A Verona 40 taxi in più grazie alle nuove licenze. Grazie ad un lavoro di squadra, che ha visto scendere in campo il Comune di Verona insieme alle associazioni di categoria che fanno parte della Commissione Taxi, verrà ampliato il turno di 8-10 ore, mettendo a disposizione dell'utenza 40 taxi in più grazie all'opportunità di una seconda guida e grazie anche a nuove licenze. Un miglioramento significativo dell'offerta del trasporto e della mobilità a Verona in vista di grandi eventi e picchi di afflusso turistico. Prossimo step l'acquisto di nuove auto ibride a bassa emissione di co2. Un nuovo provvedimento che rappresenta un passo significativo verso una mobilità urbana sempre più efficiente per tutti, cittadini, turisti e associazioni di categoria. È quella annunciata oggi frutto di un impegno condiviso tra il Comune e le associazioni della Commissione Taxi, un ulteriore segnale concreto per rispondere alle esigenze della comunità. L'iniziativa si propone di ampliare e potenziare il servizio taxi, ricorrendo a ciò che la legge mette a disposizione, ponendo così le basi per un sistema di trasporto che sappia rispondere alle esigenze di residenti e di tutti coloro che arrivano nella nostra città. Un impegno collettivo che mira a consentire una maggiore copertura e flessibilità nei turni lavorativi. La strada da intraprendere è stata trovata grazie al DL. 104 del 10 agosto 2023, che fornisce precisi strumenti per rendere flessibile e maggiormente usufruibile all'utenza il servizio taxi. Le misure intraprese. Innanzitutto, è stato introdotto un nuovo sistema che consentirà a due tassisti di condividere la guida di un'unica auto. Nello specifico si darà la possibilità anche ai tassisti 'monoguida', cioè che non hanno collaboratori familiari, di sottoscrivere un contratto di gestione per far svolgere ad una seconda guida, quindi un nuovo tassista, un turno integrativo di 8-10 ore in aggiunta al turno del titolare. Verrebbe usata la stessa autovettura ma di fatto si otterrebbe da subito il raddoppio dei turni con un totale di 40 auto in più grazie ad una seconda guida e nuove licenze. Questa iniziativa permetterà altresì di promuovere una forma di collaborazione più stretta tra i conducenti, aprendo la strada anche al passaggio del testimone tra generazioni e offrendo nuove opportunità per i giovani aspiranti tassisti. Come secondo intervento la Cooperativa Unione Radiotaxi Verona infatti punterà ad ottenere nuove licenze taxi stagionali, da far guidare a dipendenti o gestori, impegnandosi nell'acquisto di auto ibride a bassa emissione di co2 come previsto dal DL 104/2023. Infine, grazie ad un principio di massima flessibilità, si punterà all'applicazione dell'istituto della collaborazione familiare occasionale per sostituzioni del titolare in determinati casi occasionali di impedimento al lavoro. Alcuni dati. Grazie ad una elaborazione su dati forniti dai comuni e da Istat, è stato stilato un rapporto tra Residenti all'1 gennaio 2023/Licenze taxi/Numero di taxi ogni 100.000 abitanti. A Verona è risultata avere 255,588 abitanti, 177 licenze con 6,93 taxi ogni 10mila abitanti. Una proporzione destinata a cambiare drasticamente in occasione di grandi eventi in città o in alta stagione. Tra le varie città esaminate Roma con un rapporto 2.748.109/7.838/28,52; Milano 1.354.196/4855/35.85; Napoli 913.462/2.364/25,88; Firenze 360.930/772/21,39; Torino 841.600/1501/17,84; Bologna 387.971/656/16,91; Genova 558.745/869/15,55; Trieste 198.417/249/12,55; Padova 206.496/150/7.26; Brescia 196.446/101/5,14; Venezia 250.369/108/4,31; Vicenza 109.823/45/4,10. (Fonte Wired Italia) Questo primo provvedimento sarà seguito da altri, tra cui la condivisione delle risorse taxi con i comuni limitrofi per eventi di grande portata come Vinitaly e la Fiera Cavalli. Dopo un periodo di osservazione l'Assessorato al Commercio valuterà se gli interventi messi in campo risulteranno sufficienti o se sarà necessario intervenire ulteriormente. Un altro segnale indicatore verrà dato quando termineranno i lavori della filovia con conseguente riorganizzazione del traffico cittadino. A presentare le novità questa mattina in Sala Arazzi sono intervenuti l'assessore al Commercio e attività produttive Italo Sandrini, il vicepresidente nazionale Uritaxi Verona Stefano Sella, il presidente Unione Radio Taxi Verona Daniele Garonzi, il presidente Associazione per la Difesa e l'Orientamento dei Consumatori ADOC Verona Luigi Sperani, Daniela Campostrini della Confederazione Nazionale Artigianato piccola e media impresa Daniela Campostrini e il responsabile trasporti di Confcommercio Ferdinando Marchi. "Questo provvedimento va ad ampliare l'azione intrapresa l'anno scorso – commenta l'assessore Italo Sandrini - È stato necessario infatti implementate il numero per soddisfare le esigenze dei trasporti a Verona. Ora, grazie al decreto 104/2023 e la legge in vigore, abbiamo messo a regime pieno a turno 40 autovetture in più grazie ad una seconda guida e nuove licenze. Un lavoro veramente importante di concertazione con le associazioni di categoria presenti in Commissione Taxi. Siamo veramente soddisfatti perché, utilizzando entrambi gli strumenti a disposizione, credo che riusciremo finalmente a soddisfare le esigenze dell'utenza. Visto che Verona in questo momento è interessata da tante opere pubbliche, ci siamo ripromessi di monitorare costantemente la situazione, in vista di un ulteriore ampliamento delle licenze". "Uno dei problemi emersi in passato, è stato poter accedere al servizio con flessibilità – afferma Daniele Garonzi -. Abbiamo necessità di poter usufruire di turni integrativi e mettere a disposizione l'auto, anche in fascia notturna, specialmente durante l'alta stagione. Quest'anno, grazie al DL 104 del 10 agosto 2023, avremo la possibilità già da aprile di offrire alla cittadinanza un servizio con turni integrativi e successivamente avere in capo alla cooperativa delle licenze taxi acquistando auto ibride". "È stato fatto un lavoro responsabile e di squadra – sottolinea Stefano Sella -. Per una professione che è principalmente stagionale, e che quindi richiede ampia flessibilità". "Come consumatori auspichiamo che questo servizio migliori l'efficienza di tutta la città e dello scorrimento del traffico – ha detto Luigi Sperani -. L'introduzione di auto ibride sarà sicuramente un altro grande passo avanti per il miglioramento dell'ambiente". "Questo accordo ci consentirà di soddisfare le esigenze sia delle imprese, sia dei tassisti – aggiunge Daniela Campostrini -. Questa nuova forma di flessibilità infatti ci aiuterà a garantire un buon risultato a vantaggio di tutti". "C'è grande soddisfazione per l'accoglimento di questo principio di offerta flessibile, legata alla stagionalità e ai grandi eventi – conclude Ferdinando Marchi -. Abbiamo già sperimentato con successo collaborazioni previsionali per quanto riguarda l'analisi della domanda, ad esempio mediante l'indagine delle prenotazioni alberghiere. Questo è un insieme di provvedimenti che, grazie alla collaborazione con l'Amministrazione comunale, migliorerà sensibilmente l'offerta del trasporto e della mobilità a Verona".... #notizie #news #breakingnews #cronaca #politica #eventi #sport #moda Read the full article

[rosesloveletters]

Bad and Lovely.

pairing: Patrick Verona x Fem. Reader

word count: 4,079

warnings: strong language

summary: Reader is away at college and is homesick. they return home, ready to surprise Patrick, only to find him with an eager replacement. Alternatively, Pat and Reader confess their true feelings. 

You braced yourself in your seat as the plane landed, bouncing once on the runway as the engines grew loud and rumbled with the effort it took to slow the aircraft down. After a few seconds, the plane was moving at a normal speed again as the pilot taxied off the runway to park at the gate.

You shifted, crossing your legs to keep from seeming too eager to get off the plane. The other passengers were already gathering their things at their seats; everyone was on the edge of their seats in anticipation for the pilot to come on the intercom and give permission to depart. It wasn’t a very long flight and you hadn’t make the trip as often as you felt like you should because of that fact. You just didn’t feel like driving the distance this time. You had enough money for a plane ticket and you couldn’t get back home fast enough.

The last phone call that you and your best friend Patrick had shared was what led to your sudden return to Seattle. The two of you called each other almost every single day. The transition from high school to college had been rough on you. It felt like there were worlds between you and you missed him every waking second. You hadn’t been gone for more than a couple of months, but you were already heartbroken and missing him dearly. Your ability to focus on your classes was failing you and you couldn’t concentrate when you were so far apart from the one person who kept you sane. You had been prepared, you had thought, but now that everything in your life had changed so suddenly you were wondering if you had ever been prepared in the first place.

You didn’t want to make Patrick uncomfortable and so you hadn’t told him at first. But the last phone call you had shared, at the end of the call, he’d said ‘miss you’. You had almost cried. You missed him so bad. You repeated it back to him before ending the call.

It was a snap decision to go visit him for the weekend, especially buying a plane ticket for it. But your parents had agreed to give you a ride back if you were willing to purchase a ticket to come home. And so you did.  

You hadn’t brought a carry-on bag; it only slowed you from the goal of getting off that damned plane. When you’d gotten on the plane you’d intentionally sat up front so you’d be one of the first ones off. Only in the third row back, after arriving at the gate, you were nearly off the plane as soon as you’d been allowed.

You could see from out the window that it was raining— quite a change from the bright sunshine when you’d been high above the clouds. You smiled; rain was so typical of Seattle. It was normal and familiar. You had really missed your hometown.

Once the passengers in front of you had left the plane, you stood and filed into the narrow hall between the seats, nodding your thanks to the flight attendants and the pilot on your way out.

You sped up your pace, walking quickly from the gate until you burst from the doorway and into the massive airport. The other passengers were on their way to the baggage claim and you followed. Up ahead you caught sight of the TSA agents and the security scanners, lines of passengers waiting their turn to be admitted to the terminals. You continued on, the signs pointing the way to baggage claim led you to an escalator. You stepped on and rode it down to a lower level. Once at the bottom, you stepped off and turned right, walking down the next corridor and stopping beside the carousel. By now they were already putting bags out on the belt and you waited patiently for yours until you saw it leave the back room. You grabbed it as quickly as you could and headed for the doors. Your parents were supposed to pick you up in the front.

You got to the doors as quickly as you could and looked up and down the long stretch of road in front of the airport. There were taxis and other cars lined up outside waiting for passengers. You remained under the safety of the awning to stay out of the rain as you looked for your car. Your father flagged you down from the car. You wanted to run to them but you remained as calm as you could, making your way to the car without wasting any time. You were thrilled to see your parents again. It had been months after all and Patrick wasn’t the only thing you were missing. You had missed your entire lifeit seemed.

Hugs were exchanged as your father helped you get your bag into the car. The previous hole in your heart was starting to fill again, but the only person that could make you whole again was Patrick. You could breathe a sigh of relief once you got to see him.

With everything packed away, you got into the car and were on your way.

***

Of course, your parents had wanted a detailed novel on how college was going for you. To tell the truth, you weren’t one for such conversations. You never had been. You didn’t like to re-count things that happened all that much or over-share whenever it came to how your life was going in that regard. You had told them all was well and that you were adjusting just fine. But even more truthfully, the part that was closer to your heart knew that you were notadjusting just fine. Everything was so different and strange and you weren’t sure if you had really known how much of a change it would be. You weren’t taking it well. You had none of the regular consistencies in your life anymore. Nothing that you had been used to or had once relied on to get you through the roughest days. That was mostly because Patrick was what had gotten you through. It was hard to picture him there rooting for you on the sidelines whenever you couldn’t even see his face.

The drive from the airport to your house was the longest car-ride of your life. Making conversation with your parents was harder than it had ever been because you couldn’t concentrate at all on what they were saying or what to say in response. All you could think about was Patrick. You were going to surprise him. He had no idea at all that you had come home today. You knew that he was at work tonight and you were going to show up unannounced and give him the greatest gift of his (and your) life. It was going to be great.

You eventually arrived back at your house and you smiled upon seeing it. Nothing really looked different. In fact it looked about the same as it had whenever you left. You felt as if your life was really coming back together right before your very eyes. Even though you wanted to surprise him, you imagined what it would have been like if your parents had told Patrick of your return despite knowing your intent to surprise him. You imagined seeing him waiting on the porch for you, see him come running down to greet you in the pouring rain. The images played in your mind of what that might’ve looked like and you thought that you might have been so surprised you could have kissed him. The thought of it made you blush. Why did you miss Patrick so badly? Your current relationship with him was a grey area. The last few times you had been in each other’s presence, you’d had a sneaking suspicion he’d been flirting with you, but Patrick had always been your best friend. That didn’t make the urge to kiss him any less strong.

Your parents knew that you were dying to surprise Patrick at work and they let you take the car and head out after dropping your bag off in your room. It was starting to get dark and the rain made it increasingly more difficult for you to see. Fortunately Patrick didn’t work very far from your home. It was only a little over a fifteen-minute drive and the streets were fairly quiet this time of night. You were glad you were able to leave early enough in the day on Thursday that you didn’t have to wait until Friday to come home. You didn’t live deep inside the city either and that made things a lot less stressful as well. The only thing causing you stress was not seeing Patrick. You had to listen to music on full blast the entire drive to keep yourself preoccupied. You could barely contain your excitement of knowing you were going to see your best friend within minutes. You grinned at the thought of the big smile he’d get on his face whenever he saw you. You hoped he’d run over to you and give you a big hug like he always used to do. You wanted to hear his silly jokes and sarcastic remarks. There wasn’t one thing about him that you didn’t miss.

You parked your car around back, right next to Patrick’s. You smiled fondly at the old car sitting in the parking space beside yours, remembering how many times the two of you had gone out in that car to hang out. You spent a lot of time in his car because he always insisted on driving. A lot of the time in high school, he had driven you to school. On weekends, the two of you would go out to the creek or the woods and spend all day talking and hiking and playing around. Sometimes Patrick would hide while you weren’t paying attention just to try and jump out and scare you. He always made you laugh. Patrick loved being outside and you did too. It didn’t really matter to you whether you were inside or outside whenever you were with him. He was what made all the difference.

You turned the car off and got out. You ran to the door quickly to keep from getting drenched, even though the rain was still coming down hard. It didn’t look like there were hardly any customers because of the rain.

When you opened the door and stepped inside, laughter immediately reached your ears. It was a pleasant sound and you smiled. You couldn’t wait to surprise Patrick. You stood by the door and craned your neck to see if you could catch a glimpse of him at all. You didn’t want him to spot you first and ruin the surprise.

All you could see was a young girl talking to somebody around the corner. She laughed again and smiled at the person she was chatting with. It didn’t look like she’d even noticed you walk in. You stood as still as you could and you listened. You could hear a man’s voice talking lowly in response to what she’d said. Your heart fluttered; it was Patrick.

Your smile grew as you started to approach the counter. He was going to be so surprised!

The girl that was talking to Patrick let out another giggle, this time accompanied by her putting her hand on Patrick’s arm. You had moved just enough to be able to see a sliver of his face. He didn’t say anything back to the girl, but you saw him smile at her. How many times had he looked at you like that?

Any thought of surprising your best friend had died. You didn’t feel like you would be able to look him in the eye. A spark of jealousy stabbed you right through the middle. Perhaps it was selfish of you to feel that way, considering how you and Patrick hadn’t even seen each other for months. Had you really expected him to wait for you? Neither of you had ever talked about anything like that or ever had anything beyond a friendship. You had just assumed that all your life it was going to be you and Patrick. Not Patrick and some girl and then you with some guy. It was always supposed to be you and Patrick. Right?

“Y/n?” Patrick’s deep voice made you look up, “y/n, is that you?”

Both of them had stopped talking and were looking directly at you. Patrick had walked a little closer to the counter and from the looks of it he was moments from coming around and hugging you. You couldn’t take it. Was this your life now? Were you and Patrick really not as close as you thought you were? The worst part was that he hadn’t even told you he was seeing anybody. You’d known Patrick a good portion of your entire life. Weren’t you close enough to tell each other if either of you were seeing someone? You couldn’t even bring yourself to look at him. Maybe you wouldn’t be able to ever again.

You made a soft noise of discomfort and turned and grabbed the door handle. You flung the door open and stormed out into the rain, leaving Patrick standing in the lobby in shock. He didn’t know whether to run after you or not. You were gone before he could decide.

***

You threw yourself down onto your bed and clutched your pillow tight to your chest. You wished it was Patrick so that you could strangle him. Why didn’t he tell you? And why did you even care this much? It wasn’t like you expected that he was supposed to stay single his whole life. You knew you both were bound to meet somebody eventually. It was just the initial shock. You hadn’t been prepared for it. He hadn’t told you about her and you felt like you’d just walked in on a private moment that you didn’t have a part of. Those moments used to belong to you and Patrick. Now you felt like a third wheel who was trying too hard. After all, you had come all the way back to Seattle just to surprise him. That was a huge gesture for just a friend. What had you been thinking? It all sounded crazy to you now. How stupid had you been to think he would want to see you now. You came back all because he said he missed you. That was just something people say, even if they don’t mean it. They say it because its polite, not because it’s true.

You were mad at yourself for thinking he would care to see you now. Obviously things were different. You were trying to walk back into a life that didn’t exist anymore. Your feelings disgusted you. You had no grasp on why you cared if he met someone or not. You wouldn’t have cared in high school. You knew now that that was a lie. You would have cared. Maybe it wasn’t a fear of your friendship ending, but more of a resentment that someone had gotten to his heart before you had. You cared about him more than anyone else ever had or ever would. And you loved that beautiful, stupid boy. You lovedhim.

***

“Pat, can you come over? I need to talk to you.” You held the phone in a white-knuckled grip, nervously awaiting his response.

“Sure,” Patrick’s voice was warm and soft, despite how you had fled the scene earlier and left him spinning in your wake, lost for answers, “I can be there in a few minutes. I just got off work. Hey, why’d you leave so fast? I didn’t even have a chance to say hi.”

You wanted to answer him, but your voice wasn’t about to let you form those sentences yet. You felt your throat begin to burn as you fought back tears, “just hurry. I really, really need to talk to you.”

You heard him begin to ask if everything was alright and you hung up on him.

***

Patrick was right; he was there within minutes. You were upstairs in your bedroom putting things away when the front door opened and you heard muffled voices filtering up through the vent. Your parents had obviously let him in. You listened to the footsteps coming up the staircase and held your breath as they stopped right outside your door. There was a quiet knock on your door before it clicked open a crack, “hey,” Patrick called as he swung open the door the rest of the way.

“Hey, Pat,” you beckoned him in.

He walked in and dropped his bag on the floor, half expecting you to jump into his arms. His exquisite, strong, protective arms that would squeeze you close as he would kiss you and moan into your mouth as your hands desperately pulled at his back and his hair.You pushed that thought away as you sat on the bed and put your focus on him.

He was shaking water droplets out of his hair, “it’s still coming down out there,” he sighed as he plopped himself down beside you. You watched silently as he removed his heavy boots and set them on the hardwood.

“Yes, Patrick,” you pointed toward the window, “I have a window. I can see.”

Patrick laughed lightly, nodding, “still just as hilarious as I remembered you.”

You hadn’t allowed yourself to look at him fully. Patrick didn’t like heavy conversations. He liked to make jokes to keep things light and silly, but the longer you kept your head down to avoid eye contact, he couldn’t help thinking he had done something wrong.

“Is everything alright, y/n? I mean…it feels like you’re upset with me. Maybe I’m wrong, but something’s off. I thought you missed me. Did I do something?”

“I came home because yousaid youmissed me,” a hint of exasperation snuck into your voice, “I didn’t realize you already had someone to keep you company.”

Patrick turned and looked at you, baffled by your words, “what? What in the hell are you talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, Patrick. I saw you with that girl.”

Realization struck and Patrick sighed dramatically, “who? Anna? She’s a friend, y/n. We work together. She’s still in high school, for fuck’s sake!”

“How in the hell was I supposed to know that!?” you had never screamed at Patrick before and it almost was enough to scare you, “you never tell me anything anymore!”

“What’s there to tell? I’m stuck here living the same fucking life that you left behind. You left me, y/n. Don’t try and turn it around to make me the bad guy. You left. I didn’t.”

“I never wanted to leave, you huge idiot!”

Patrick got up from the bed and walked over to the window. You could see the muscles jump as he clenched his jaw in anger. He didn’t say anything. He even looked to be on the verge of crying, but you knew he wouldn’t. You had never seen him cry. Not once.

You continued, “College sucks, Pat. I hate it. I hate it so much because I’m far away from everyone and everything I care about. The worst part is never getting to see you. I came home to surprise you and…I saw you with that girl and it made me think I lost you for good. I never wanted to lose you when I went away. I know we can’t just…pick up from where we left off but… I never wanted to lose you.”

Patrick looked at you behind him through the glass, “you never lost me. And if you felt that way, you could’ve just told me. We don’t have secrets, y/n, you know that.”

“I know…I guess I shouldn’t have assumed.”

Patrick nodded and turned back around to face you, “trust me, no random girl I meet at work is ever going to mean half as much to me as you do.”

He caught your eye and you finally looked up at him, met his eyes with no fear or anxiety or distress, “You know, I think that part of the reason I came back is because I needed to tell you that I…”you took a deep, albeit shaky breath, “I love you, Patrick.”

He looked into your eyes and you held his gaze. His face lit up in radiance. He was so beautiful, this man you had come to love so effortlessly and intensely, this man that made your knees weak and chest so bubbly with emotions. His honest eyes said it all and you felt nothing but pure love for him, “I love you too, y/n. I think I always have.”

He sat down beside you again and pulled you into his embrace. His head nestled in the crook of your neck as he held you and all you wanted was to stay like that forever. He didn’t even need to say ‘I love you’. You would’ve known from the way he held you, like you were the most precious thing in the universe.

He brushed a stray lock of hair behind your ear and as he bent closer to do so, he caught your lips with his. He swallowed your surprised gasp as his lips moved solidly with your own. You kissed back without thinking. You didn’t need to think whenever it came to Patrick. Thinking was irrelevant when you already knew what you wanted.

Your hand found his while you kissed and you held it tight. You wouldn’t let him go ever again. Being apart had been hard on you. You never even stopped to think that it might’ve been just as hard for Patrick. He kissed you with fervor, built up passion from a need so deep and so raw that had finally been released after too long. You would have easily kissed him for hours.

“Don’t go back,” Patrick whispered against your lips, “don’t leave me again. I can’t…just don’t go.”

You broke the kiss, “Pat, I haveto.”

He was staring at your lips as his playful smile returned, “come on, don’t do it. You can kiss me whenever you want if you stay.”

“Patrick!” you were smiling back, “I hope you’ll still kiss me even if I do leave again.”

“I’ll come with you,” Patrick said suddenly. It was on a whim but he didn’t care. He would follow you to the ends of the Earth. He didn’t care where you went, he would go too. He would quit his job and pack his things tonight. He had enough money for a hotel room. He could figure something out. The two of you could work it out together. You were both smart and surely there was a way that it could happen…

“Patrick, listen. I’m not completely against the idea. But we have to be smart about this,” you put your hands on his shoulders as you tried to calm him down and talk him out of such a fast decision, “what if…you were to work here a little longer, save some extra cash while I take a look at some apartments near campus? You could rent a place, get a job there and we’d be close to each other. Think about it! We could see each other every day, Pat,” you leaned in, lips almost touching his, “I could kiss you every day.”

“That’s a perfect idea,” Patrick whispered to you, “I like that idea.”

His lips parted in desperation for another kiss. He was touch-starved and needy from being apart so long. You gave in and let him have another, smaller kiss.  

You exhaled. You had not expected to return home and come face to face with emotions you never realized you had fallen victim to. You never expected any of this. It was all happening so fast, but in such a beautiful way. The pouring rain did nothing to sour your mood as you gazed at the man sitting inches from you. You’d loved him from day one. He was the one you wanted to spend your life with. Everything had felt wrong when you were apart and suddenly, when he came back to you, nothing had ever felt more right.

[taxitransfer344]

Transfer Verona Airport

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[lamilanomagazine]

Verona. Dal comune la proposta "Taxi Rosa": un servizio per muoversi in sicurezza nelle ore notturne

Verona. Dal comune la proposta "Taxi Rosa": un servizio per muoversi in sicurezza nelle ore notturne. Un servizio di trasporto serale e notturno per garantire sicurezza e libertà di movimento alle donne che si spostano in città da sole. Per poter rientrare a casa dopo essere andate al cinema, a teatro o dopo una serata trascorsa con amici e amiche. E magari sapere di poter contare su una persona che aspetta finché non sei entrata in casa. Parliamo del "Taxi Rosa", una buona pratica già attiva in alcune città italiane ed estere, presto anche a Verona. Un'iniziativa che vedrebbe la collaborazione tra Comune di Verona e i tassisti, e che parte dall'assessora alla Sicurezza Stefania Zivelonghi insieme all'assessore al Commercio Italo Sandrini, il presidente del Consiglio comunale Stefano Vallani, la vicepresidente Veronica Atitsogbe e la consigliera comunale delegata alle Pari Opportunità Beatrice Verzè. In mattinata le parti si sono incontrate per trovare una soluzione che, nel giro di un paio di settimane, possa dare inizio a questa ulteriore misura di tutela a favore delle donne, e che va ad aggiungersi al servizio già attivo di bus a chiamata "Scipione il bus a prenotazione" per garantire una sempre maggiore mobilità sicura a tutti e a tutte. "Prosegue l'attività lanciata a seguito di un incontro che l'Amministrazione ha avuto con le rappresentanze di APIDonne Verona – spiega l'assessora alla Sicurezza Stefania Zivelonghi -. È stato istituito un team di lavoro per la messa a sistema di una serie di misure volte a consentire di muoversi in libertà e sicurezza per la città di Verona anche in ore serali e notturne. L'incontro di oggi, che è stato con le rappresentanze dei tassisti, ha dato il via alla formulazione di una proposta che credo potremmo vedere attiva nel giro di un paio di settimane. I tassisti hanno mostrato molto interesse a riguardo, e a breve formuleranno una proposta adeguata. Il tutto andrà ad aggiungersi alle altre misure, alcune delle quali già in essere, che verranno pubblicizzate e diffuse sul territorio". "Abbiamo incontrato le varie sigle sindacali dei tassisti per chiedere la disponibilità ad istituire questo servizio che riteniamo sia un'importante opportunità per consentire libertà di movimento migliorando la qualità della vita delle donne in città" – aggiunge l'assessore al Commercio Italo Sandrini -.... #notizie #news #breakingnews #cronaca #politica #eventi #sport #moda Read the full article

[josefavomjaaga]

(King Maximilian I. Joseph of Bavaria, by Stieler)

The attempts to sway Eugène to join the side of the Allies are particularly well-documented. Partially because of Marmont. The "Duc de Raguse", suffering for the rest of his life from accusations of having betrayed Napoleon, had written rather controversial memoirs, that were only to be published after his death in 1852. (Someone compared him to a sharpshooter hiding behind his own tombstone which is an image I really love.) He made accusations against several people; most prominent among them figured Eugène, whom Marmont accused of having disobeyed Napoleon's order to lead his troops across the Alpes to France and to defend French soil rather than Upper Italy, thus having been the real cause for the lost war of 1814.

By that time, Eugène himself was long dead, both his sons were dead, and even Auguste had died in 1851. However, his daughters protested vehemently against these accusations, and Planat de la Faye, who had only been in Eugène's service for the last brief years, fought tooth and nails to protect Eugène's memoir all his life. Eugène's family and friends actually went to court over this question (and unsurprisingly, considering by then Napoleon III ruled France, they won).

However, this was not the first time similar accusations had been made, and Auguste at earlier occasions already had collected testimonies, letters and documents in order to be able to refute them. In court, much of it became public, and some of it even had to be added to Marmont's memoirs.

That's why we have a detailed report by one prince of Thurn und Taxis, aide-de-camp to the king of Bavaria, about his mission to convince Eugène of the necessity to join the allies in mid-November 1813. The young man, who had served under Eugène's orders in Russia, was sent to Bellegarde's Austrian troops from Frankfurt, armed with a letter by King Max Joseph. It turned into a real undercover movie; the Bavarian had to put on the uniform of an Austrian major and present himself to Eugène's outposts as a negotiator sent by Bellegarde, was taken into custody and blindfolded by Eugène's Italians, led behind their lines and, after convincing them that he really, really had to talk to Eugène in person, locked into a church while they went to search their viceroy. On entering the building, Eugène immediately recognized his former subordinate and explained to his entourage that he was certain he would be safe around this gentleman and wanted to take him outside on a walk, for a one-on-one interview. In which his first question, according to the prince Thurn und Taxis, apparently was not "What the f are you doing here?" but "Is the king okay?«, before even opening Max Joseph’s letter.

For the rest, we can let Eugène speak for himself, because as usual, he immediately had to write to Auguste about the encounter.

Le prince Eugène à la princesse Auguste. Vérone, 23 novembre 1813.

Je t'envoie, ma bonne Auguste, une lettre que j'ai reçue du roi par un officier parlementaire. Cet officier n'était autre que le prince Taxis. J'ai causé plus d'une heure avec lui, et je t'assure que je n'ai dit que ce que je devais. En deux mots, il m'a apporté la proposition.de la part de tous les alliés, pour me faire quitter la cause de l'Empereur, de me reconnaître comme roi d'Italie. J'ai répondu tout ce que toi-même tu aurais répondu, et il est parti ému et admirateur de ma manière de penser; comme il a vu que je ne voulais entendre à rien qu'à un armistice, il m'a assuré que le roi l'obtiendrait d'autant plus « que les alliés admiraient mon caractère et ma conduite. » C'est déjà une bien belle récompense que de commander ainsi l'estime à ses ennemis. Déchire le billet du roi, ne parle de rien de tout cela. Dans l'armée on ne sait qu'il est venu un parlementaire que comme officier autrichien.

**

Prince Eugene to Princess Auguste. Verona, 23rd November 1813.

I am sending you, my good Auguste, a letter which I received from the King through a parliamentary officer. This officer was none other than Prince Taxis. I talked with him for over an hour, and I assure you that I only said what I had to. In two words, he came to me with a proposal on behalf of all the allies, in order to make me leave the Emperor's cause, to recognise me as King of Italy.

I answered all that you yourself would have answered, and he left deeply moved and impressed by my way of thinking; seeing that I only wanted to agree to an armistice, he assured me that the King would obtain it all the more "as the allies admired my character and my conduct."

It is already a fine reward to thus command the esteem of one's enemies.

Tear up the king's note, do not mention any of this. In the army it is only known that an Austrian officer came as a parliamentarian.

As Eugène would soon learn, this professed "esteem" his enemies had for him would not lead him anywhere. Neither did he receive an armistice from Bellegarde in 1813/4, nor a principality in 1814/5. But everybody agreed that Eugéne was a really great guy, and maybe that was worth it for him.

Eugène of course also immediately sent a detailed report of his meeting to Napoleon – for his own safety if for no other reason, so he could not be accused of secret conspiracies. It’s a rather businesslike letter, listing the content of the conversation in bullet points, but Eugène also repeatedly puts in declarations of loyalty and tries to reassure Napoleon that he will remain by his side.

The report by the prince Thurn und Taxis, written from memory in 1836, contains a lot more sighs and worrying and even tears on Eugène’s side about the future of his children. But the interesting part is that the prince claims to also have talked about Murat’s probable defection:

Finally, when as a last argument I began, as my instructions prescribed, to speak to him of the fairly clear willingness that King Joachim had shown to deal with the allied sovereigns, and when I added that before six weeks his right flank would be exposed, compromised perhaps, the Prince said to me: "I like to believe that you are mistaken; if, however, it were so, I would certainly be the last to condone the conduct of the King of Naples; still the situation would not be exactly the same: he is sovereign, I, here, am only the lieutenant of the Emperor."

So, in a way even Eugène recognized that Murat’s actions, if possibly questionable from a moral standpoint, were justified by the fact that Murat was an independent king, bearing responsibilty for the well-being of his country. Whereas Eugène could shed this responsibilty; after all, he was only following orders, and thus his line of conduct was never in doubt.

Plus, Eugène always knew that, even if he himself went down with Napoleon, his family had a safety net in their Bavarian royal relations. Murat had no support among the other European nations, unless he joined their cause. Napoleon’s two “Italians” were indeed in very different situations.

[con-fection]

ASHES TO ASHES | jim moriarty x reader | part 3/13

Word count: 4.3k

When Sherlock Holmes becomes a man obsessed, James Moriarty becomes a man intrigued. That much, you are about to learn.

The first night in your hotel room, you allow yourself rest. The bed sheets are so soft, and sleeping on a mattress is infinitely more comfortable than the floor of a freezing basement. In many ways, despite your fervent dislike of the decor of the room based on its disingenuity, it is a decent opposite to your life before.

There is no blustering breeze blowing through dark, cracked bricks. There are no semi-dangerous power tools strewn over the floor. The sheets don't scratch at your skin.

You make sure, that night, to check yourself over for injuries. The fire was a major risk, you knew that much, and there had always been the chance that you could get caught in the blaze and burn alive, your body remaining trapped in the same house as those of your step-family's, and your freedom curbed by fire.

And you had come out unscathed.

There were no burns on you, not even the tiniest of markings from something as harmless as a stray ember. There was the chance you were suffering from some mild smoke-inhalation, but you felt completely fine, so you weren't too worried about that.

You wake up earlier than most people, but today, you don't have to get up and start sweeping or work on preparing breakfast. You feel absolutely, devastatingly victorious when there come no shouts of your name, no demands to get out of bed and fix the house.

Freedom feels so utterly delightful.

The only real downside is the lack of birdsong. The kind of birds that will chirp sweetly in the morning with you as their only audience do not thrive in inner-city London. Here, there is the eternal street-chatter, car noises, and taxi calling.

When you turn on the TV, having spent the early morning lounging in bed and enjoying the feeling of being wrapped up in soft sheets, the news is reporting live from your street.

There is a news reporter lady talking rapidly to the camera, a microphone clutched tightly in one hand. Behind her lie the remains of your parents' house. The blaze has long-since been extinguished, but there still remains one lone firetruck at the scene. The house itself has practically caved in on itself. Tiles of the roof and pieces of wood that had served as the infrastructure of the house lie lamely scattered around the lawn and driveway. It's a mess of ash and what had once been your childhood home.

The words she's saying are almost imperceivable.

Verona's car had caught fire after all. That alone gives you a smug sense of satisfaction. Just one more thing that she had valued had been stripped from her and desecrated.

"...The police have announced that they are launching a murder inquiry into the deaths of Verona Archer and her nineteen-year-old twin daughters Aubrey and Alora. Detective Inspector Lestrade, who will be heading the inquiry, has declined to comment, but sources have confirmed to us that Reichenbach hero Sherlock Holmes will be consulting."

You sit up, more interested in what she has to say than you had been just moments ago. The murder inquiry was no real surprise - you hadn't exactly tried to cover up the fact that the corpses had been hacked to bits. The mere thought of Sherlock Holmes - an allegedly brilliant civilian detective - on the case, did however shock you slightly.

Taking in a shuddering breath only calms you very slightly.

You had been so, so careful, and this had the potential to become your downfall.

The police, of course, would be on the case. You had been smart - burning everything in the house that had belonged to you. Any item that bore your name or image was to be reduced to ash, now scattered in the wind like black snow.

It was most fortuitous that Verona had caused you to have a life of solitude. Her daughters, of course, had been allowed to go out and socialise as much as they wished. Verona herself would attend dinner parties, and had wormed her way into any and every social scene that she could. Everybody had adored the three of them - Verona Archer, with her perfectly curled blonde hair, pink lips, and her darling twin daughters that were the spitting image of her.

That was a social life that you hadn't been permitted. You had been incredibly resentful at the time. Your parent's families flaked away from you once they had both died - there was nobody who cared to reach out and check on their only child. There was no way of being certain whether or not they would even remember that you had been living in the Archer household.

It was rather unlikely there were even any neighbours that even knew of your existence. That obscurity would hopefully keep you safe.

It's mid-morning by the time you eventually leave the hotel room. You've decided that today you're going to buy some new clothes, get some food, and look for a job that won't ask too many questions, all whilst keeping your head down and staying away from any cameras. The employment will probably come in the form of a seedy pub, which does invoke some kind of revulsion within you.

You have to remind yourself that it won't be for long. This is all temporary - once you're able to acquire some forged documentation you'll be in the clear. This is just one step closer to your happy ever after. You've already endured the hardest part and come out stronger for it.

---

Lestrade has relocated his board, featuring pictures, evidence, and lots of colourful string and thumbtacks, to a bigger room in the police station. The board sits front and center of the room, and is the primary focus of the room's occupants.

The full team has been gathered, all congregating in this one room to try to work cohesively.

"Listen, we're under a lot of scrutiny on this case." Lestrade says, grimacing as he looks between his taskforce and the board.

"And that's your fault." Donovan sniffs. "If you hadn't brought in Sherlock bloody Holmes then I bet that the media wouldn't even care."

"Right, right," John tries to intervene. "Let's just look at the evidence, yeah? And try to solve the case?"

As usual, she seems less than thrilled with John's presence, regarding him less than a teammate and more as a tag-along that Sherlock had somehow procured.

"So what do we actually know then?" Donovan asks, staring unrelentingly at the board.

Sherlock steps forward, pinning another picture to the board, next to the Archer girls. "This is our culprit. She's Verona's step-daughter, the child of a previous marriage of Verona's second husband."

There she is - there you are. It's an old photograph, ridiculously outdated from when you had been in high school. It looks terribly out of place next to the pictures of the Archers when they had been alive. Theirs are recent, good quality images - Verona's had been just the night before she was killed. The twins were impossible to distinguish from one another. All of them had the luxury of smiling at the camera, of being happy.

Lestrade takes over. "Her father died almost a decade ago in a car accident, and her actual mother passed away a while before that from health complications. The dad remarried not too long after his wife's death, so Verona becomes her step-mum, and the twins become step-sisters. She's a few years older than the twins, and we have no clue whatsoever what she had been doing since she finished high school."

"And we have no clue where she is now?" Anderson asks.

"None wha-" Lestrade begins.

Sherlock cuts him off. "No, that's not true. She'll be in a major city, most likely London. She'll either be keeping a low profile, or have a new identity set up already. She will have changed since high school - probably a hair cut, hair dye, or even tattoos, though that's unlikely."

"Right, I'll tell the officers on duty to keep an eye out for her." Lestrade nods, "Though I don't think a picture from years ago is going to help very much."

Donovan frowns slightly, her eyebrows tugging downwards slightly. She bites her lip for a second, her eyes darting between the pictures of the Archer girls when they were alive, their bodies, and their possible murderer. "Do we have a motive yet? Are we sure that this couldn't be a stalker who killed the Archers to kidnap their step-sister? I just can't really see a girl who Verona had raised, who loved the twins as if they were really her sisters, just turning on them like that."

"That's been bothering me too." Lestrade says. "I mean, maybe she felt like an outsider, but -"

"Of course she felt like an outsider." Sherlock says. "Verona took away her step-daughter's bedroom and had her sleep in the basement, so that she could store her fur coats upstairs. The step-daughter would be banned from furthering her education, and served as practically a live-in maid. It's incredibly obvious, really."

"They kept her as a maid? In the basement?" Lestrade's jaw hangs open slightly, his tone utterly disbelieving.

"Of course they did. All we have to do now is find her." Sherlock says, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "Come on, John. If Cinderella's looking for a story, then we'll help her write one."

---

By the time you get back to your hotel room, your confidence has been bolstered immeasurably. You'd rather cautiously kept away from the more densely populated, camera-filled streets, and remained in more seedy, shady areas where nobody would really care too much even if they did know what you'd done.

In that time, you'd secured clothes, food, and you'd scouted out a few places that would probably be willing to employ you and not ask too many questions, though you weren't under the impression that they would pay you particularly well.

It felt so intoxicating to be completely and utterly free. You had no constraints any more. There were no Aubrey and Alora to hound you when you went shopping, and Verona was no longer around to tell you to be grateful that she even kept you around. Total, complete independence was one of the finest things you had ever encountered.

Perhaps the next few months would be rough whilst you were evading the police and establishing your new life. But ultimately, you were free. From freedom, your happily ever after would be borne.

Hastily, you put the food away - you'd bought simple things that could be stored in the mini-fridge - and pull the clothes on to hangers in the wardrobe. It doesn't feel like home, but oddly, you're glad for that.

Home had been burnt down, reduced to ashes by your own hand. In due time, you'd build a new one if you had to, and it most certainly would not resemble this hotel room.

Once you've finished packing everything away, you try to allow yourself to relax, but for some reason, you feel utterly unable to.

For some, indecipherable reason, you feel watched.

Instantly, your eyes narrow and you stalk around your hotel room, checking below your bed and in the bathroom. There's nobody hiding in either places, and you know that the wardrobe is empty, too. You're utterly alone here, and yet, you certainly do not feel that way. Rather, it feels like there are eyes at your back, scrutinising your every move.

Your next course of action is to check out the window. There's nobody there. Still, you draw the curtains closed tightly. It does little to block out the light or offer you any true sense of security. You're on edge - all of a sudden the shadows in the room feel too dark, too ominous, and it feels like the temperature has dropped several degrees.

There's a deep paranoia settling into your bones, and slowly, but surely, your heart rate is beginning to rise, to the point where your heart is rapidly thundering against your ribcage.

There has to be something you'd missed.

Most people hadn't developed the acute senses that you had. They simply weren't as perceptive, and they had no reason to be. Your distinct awareness of everything around you had been developed over years and years of maltreatment.

Just the slightest movement could tell you a thousand different things. Noises, from the screech of a heeled shoe against wooden floor to the mutterings of your step-mother, were a vital part of determining how safe you felt. Sight, too, was important. You could recognise just from the way Verona positioned her handbag if she would be in the mood to let you eat that night.

You had learnt to trust your senses. And right now, they were declaring that you had missed something - that there was something totally and completely off about this room.

Quickly, your eyes are traversing over every tiny little thing. From the doorframe, to the curtains, to the TV, to the desk -

The desk.

That's what had changed. The sugar packets and TV remote had been pushed to the outskirts of the desk to make room for something that hadn't been there before.

It's in the centre of the desk, and your jaw drops open slightly just at the sight of it. A bolt of ice rushes down your spine and suddenly you're afraid. There had been no fear when you killed three people and set their house aflame. But this, this felt like a threat.

Resting idly, almost innocently on the desk, is a heeled glass shoe.

It glitters prettily under the few rays of sunlight that escape from the curtains, but its mere presence feels insidious. You want to stumble away from it, dash out of the hotel and run for your life. But you don't. Rather, you stalk closer, creeping towards it, your eyes wide and unblinking.

The glasswork is pretty. It's delicate - carefully made, with intricate spirals running up the heel. It's relatively transparent, with a slight blue tint to it, enough to make it appear more frosted. It looks about your size, but it's far too nice to even attempt to wear. It's the kind of shoe you would have relentlessly lusted after as a child. A real life glass slipper.

And yet, neither the pretty glasswork or whether it is actually wearable are the primary thoughts on your mind.

Right next to the shoe, lying so innocuously on the desk, is a little white note. It almost resembles a business card, with a swooping golden border around the edges. If the shoe felt like a threat, then this feels even worse.

Inscribed, in shocking black ink on the bone-white card -

HELLO, CINDERELLA. WOULD YOU LIKE TO GO TO THE BALL?

Now you really do feel like crying - like yelling out and destroying everything around you, smashing the glass slipper and burning your dreams just as you'd burnt the house down. You collapse to the floor, one hand clutching at your chest, grappling onto your torso like it was a lifeline.

You had been cautious. Cameras had been avoided at all costs. You'd even made sure that there would be no up to date pictures of you available for you to be identified from. You had done everything right.

It was so, awfully unfair. All of a sudden, that tenuous, delightful freedom had been ripped out from under you and torn to ribbons. And you had no idea by whom.

There was somebody out there who knew. Somebody who knew what you had done, and worse still, knew where you were. Somebody who could very, very easily let themselves into your hotel room.

Last night, you had slept so soundly, totally unaware that you had already been compromised.

You had no idea who could possibly do this - who could want to torment you in this way. Nobody came to mind. There should have been nobody that even cared to look for you, beyond the police hunting down a criminal. Logically, there should have been no way for you to be found. All of your bases had been carefully covered.

Worst of all is that you have no way of fathoming what it even means. Is it a threat? A taunt?

You simply have no idea, and you're not inclined to even want to find out. It's entirely possible that you've burnt your way out of one cage just to be put in another. All because there's somebody out there who's smarter than you, who has somehow been able to undo every precaution you put into place.

Taking in a deep breath, you lower your head into your hands and beg yourself to just think.

This could be a threat. You have no idea who would want to threaten you, and you have no leverage against them.

Rather quickly, you come to the conclusion that for now, you will simply play along with whatever they want. It's the easiest option - if they'd found you here then they could potentially find you anywhere. This way, you can dig for as much information on them as possible.

Playing along could mean being extorted, or made into a pawn. Wretchedly, it threatened to put a stranglehold on your freedom.

But, you'd broken out of the role of the pawn before.

If they were threatening you, then you would play along, until you found the right time to burn them to ash, reduce them to cinders that could easily be swept away. You were already well on your way transitioning from pawn to queen, and you were absolutely determined not to let anything derail you.

This time, you wouldn't run away from the blaze. You would gleefully watch it consume anybody who dared stand against you.

If reaching the fabled happily ever after meant starting a few fires, then that's what you would do.

---

There's a deep sense of relief when you wake up and find that nothing's changed. The glass slipper is still resting threateningly next to the card it came with upon the desk, but you haven't received any additional gifts. Not yet, anyway. You cannot simply throw caution to the wind - now you must be more careful than ever.

Somebody has discovered exactly who you are, and they know exactly where you are. It's quite possibly the worst position for you to be in. The last thing you need is anybody else recognising you.

That morning, you creep out of your hotel room, dressed in some of the clothes you had bought the day prior. You were very careful not to choose anything too flashy or that would stick in people's minds. For all intents and purposes, you needed to become a shadow, to fade from memory and hide in plain sight.

Once again, you will be trawling the shadier areas. These are the places bathed in darkness and defined by hidden bloodshed. These people have little regard for the law-abiding. Being amongst them will probably help keep you concealed.

They won't allow the police to get anywhere near them. There will never be any security cameras. There will only be secrecy and that is where you'll thrive. It's where you will hide, until the press has blown over and your step-family's murders have been relegated to cold cases.

You stalk out of the hotel, ever wary of everybody that you interact with.

Any one of these people in the lobby could have left you the slipper and the note. They're the ones with the most opportunity. However, most of the guests here, from what you can reasonably guess, are disenfranchised or senile. It could have even been the lady at the desk, Emily, you think her name had been.

You take to the streets like a duck to water. You decide to walk along a route with less traffic, working your way through maze-like alleys rather than go near the roads. There's almost no cameras here, and occasionally you will see a metal clasp on the brick walls that perhaps, at some time had held a camera, but it had since been taken down or torn off the wall.

Unfortunately, these places are rife with unsavoury people. Realistically, you probably weren't the only person here that was on the run from the police.

Your methodology of travelling only by the shadiest routes brought you past a myriad of seedy little pubs. You'd taken a look at some of these places yesterday. They seemed like as good a place as any to start looking for a job. The people there weren't likely to ask too many questions.

Despite having probably done crimes more morally reprehensible than any of the pub patrons, there's a disparity in how you view yourself compared to how you view them. They're stationed below you - they are just another stepping stone to your future. Among them isn't where you belong.

The way you spend the day is rather boring - doing a more in depth evaluation of all the places nearby that would probably be willing to employ you, mentally cataloguing the pros and cons of each place. It's incredibly dull, but you have to remind yourself that it's necessary. Right now, you don't have much other choice.

By the time the sun is beginning to set and dusk is beginning to fall over London, you've found a few places you like the look of. They're easy to get to, and just seedy enough that they may not care about your lack of documentation. That, of course, had been destroyed in the fire, and even if it hadn't, you weren't about to use your real name.

Once it starts to get darker, you head back to your hotel room, half-starved. You're simultaneously eager to get back just to eat, and nervous that you could have been left another message.

You practically fly through the lobby, hurriedly following the signs back to room one hundred and twenty five.

You make your way down the hallway, pausing cautiously at your door.

There, hung on the door handle is one of the hotel's do not disturb signs. You hadn't been the one to place it there.

Immediately, you're put on edge. The tiny, rectangular blue and green key card feels rather heavy in your hand. Your fingers twitch, and your eyes narrow. Once again, something is very, very off.

You press your ear to the door. There's nothing - no noise that you can discern. Cautiously, you swipe the card, and you tug the door handle down, but you don't push it all the way open. Not yet. You wait another moment before doing so, your eyes immediately flying to check the bathroom before you even truly step inside.

The room looks deserted, overcast by shadows. There's a deep anticipation stirring within you as you step into the hotel room and let the door close behind you.

It's rather dark - the shadows all move in the dying sunlight, and there's too many places for someone to hide.

"Hello, Cinderella." A voice calls out from the darkness, crooning and smooth.

In a second, your hand has slammed down on the lightswitch. The lights flicker for a moment, but they enable you to see him.

There's a man lounging in the chair to the desk, looking directly at you. His legs are outstretched in front of him, and he's passing the glass slipper between his hands.

You'd never seen him before. He's older than you, perhaps in his early thirties, with slicked back dark hair, an expensive-looking grey suit, and eyes that stare straight into your soul.

"Did you like my gift?" He asks, sounding vaguely amused. His dark, all-consuming, black eyes dart briefly down to the glass shoe in his hands. He strokes a fingertip along the glasswork intimately.

"Who are you?" The question tumbles from your mouth before you can even think to stop it.

He rolls his eyes. "I believe that I asked you a question first. You're welcome to call me Moriarty. But you, Cinderella, have been a very naughty girl."

This Moriarty man is rather changeable, you think. His annoyance had quickly faded to something that sounded horrendously like glee. You're left floundering for a response - there's nothing clever for you to say.

"Have I?" You find yourself saying, rather absently, like you were making an off-hand remark about the weather or something equally insignificant. It feels meaningless to refute him. You know exactly what he's referring to.

"Oh come on," Moriarty says. His voice is almost playful - and it's now that you place his accent. Irish. "You know you have. Killing your wicked step-mother and ugly step-sisters? Most people would call that terrible. Psssh, I'm not so boring." He waves it off, dismissing what you had done gut-wrenchingly easy.

You flinch backwards, your back colliding with the door. "Oh?" You manage to choke out.

"No, no. I'd call that impressive," He says in a sing-song voice. He seems so cheery, and he's practically grinning at you. "You see, most people don't quite gather the guts to kill their own families. And when it's a woman - well, they tend to go for poison. Bit of a cop out, don't you think? But no, not you. That would be too boring. Go on, Cinderella, tell me how it felt."

"Am I...being blackmailed?" You don't think you've ever felt so confused and worried at the same time. This man - the man who had figured it all out and found you seems to be dually comical and threatening. You can't really discern what is an appropriate reaction.

"Only if you'd like to be." He replies with an innocent shrug of his shoulders. "Just tell me something, will you?"