#the distance between everyone and my clients is so much smaller than we want to believe it is

[scary-grace]

In the mood to make a personal post but all my ideas are bad

[brinkofdiscovery]

Iridescent Stars

They smiled, and he could feel his breath catch in his throat.

Contains: Guns, Death, Car Wrecks (aftermath)

Tyler steadied himself on twisted metal, chilled by the freezing water that flowed around his ankles. Around him, broken glass glimmered beneath the water, a hundred tiny stars dashed along the freezing creek bed. Music played softly from ruined speakers, struggling out in short, sputtering bursts as the sun set golden across the snowy ravine. 

His client sat still and bloodied in the driver's seat, and just as he reached for their chest, a shadow cast itself across the valley. The frigid water suddenly became colder somehow, without the grace of sunlight shining through it. Tyler looked over his shoulder, a shadowed figure loomed, magnificent and motionless on the highway far above. Golden sunlight filtered through magnificent, outstretched wings, spread wide on either side of the silhouette that stood haloed by the sun.

Tyler stared up at them for a moment; they stared back--unmoving, unwavering. He sighed, turning back to his client with a quiet resignation. Slowly, he placed his hand against their chest, feeling out the rhythm of the shallow rise and fall of their breath. With their exhale, he dipped his fingers through their skin, down, and past their heart to the small, glowing mass of energy that sat behind it. With one gentle motion, he pulled their soul from their body, and their steady breathing slowed to a halt.

He took his time putting his shoes back on. Part of him hoped that if he stayed by the bank for long enough, the angel would leave, or at the very least come down to confront him on their own; it’d be nice to get it over with. He’d like to climb out of the ravine knowing he wouldn’t have to face them at the top.

But as always, he’d have no such luck. By the time he finished tying his laces and turned to face the hillside, the angel was still there, staring down at him from high above. Tyler shook his head, and dropped his eyes back to the task at hand. With the soul held securely in one hand, he reached out to a sturdy branch with the other, and started his climb up the snow covered slope.

Exposed roots and rocks threatened to give way when used as footholds, and with one hand dedicated to keeping the soul off the ground, he could barely manage to catch himself when they did. The ice and snow was loose and unreliable, and as it shifted and broke beneath his weight he quickly learned he could only trust it to numb his hands to the cuts and scrapes the climb subjected him to.

A single, gloved hand reached out to him as he reached for the highway’s guardrail. He stared at it for a moment before taking it, and accepting the angel’s help as he finally climbed onto the pavement.

The angel was tall, and somehow just as delicate as they were imposing. The setting sun shone behind them, illuminating strawberry blonde curls in a second halo beneath the golden ring that already floated above their head. They held Tyler steady as he pulled himself to his feet, fretting over him with gentle hands in wool lined mittens.

“It’s getting dark.” They said, glancing over their shoulder to the sun setting over the ridge. The sun caught their face at a different angle, and their freckles seemed to shine somehow, like a dusting of tiny opal across their cheeks. Tyler watched as the colors danced on their skin. He was still staring when they cut their eyes back to him.

They smiled, and he could feel his breath catch in his throat. “Do reapers typically work into the night?”

Reapers. That’s right. He was working, and though the angel’s eyes didn’t move from his for even a second, he knew the soul was in their periphery.

He realized his hand was still resting in theirs; he lifted it gently out of their grasp and took a slow step away, his eyes fading back to a practiced intensity as he finally spoke.

“What do you want?”

The angel watched him silently. Silence hung in the air. They didn’t make a move for him, they didn’t so much as take a step forward.

“Can I tell you a little bit about the soul you’re holding?”  They said gently.

“I already know.” Tyler sighed. His eyes closed, shaking his head wearily.

“You know?”

“I already know,” Tyler repeated, “I know who he is, I know what he did. I know all the good he put into the world. Whatever you’re about to tell me, I already know.”

“Then you know you’re holding someone very remarkable.”

“I am.”

“And you know why I’m here.”

“I guess I do.”

Silence hung in the air, the two watched one another with dwindling patience. Tyler didn’t make any distance between them; he just waited for them to ask for the soul, and they waited on him to offer it.

“Can we talk?” They finally asked.

Tyler slowly shook his head. “I’d rather not.”

“Please, listen. I know what you’ve been through, I know how hard it must have been. But you’re not dealing with demons right now. I’m not going to take the soul from you, I promise. I’m asking.”

Tyler didn’t answer. He just stared back at the angel, a spark of fire growing behind tired eyes.

The angel cleared their throat, trying again with a nervous smile and a quaver to their voice. “You’re resilient, I’ve heard. Seventy years and you’ve only lost one soul, is that right?”

Tyler winced, he thought back to the smell of iron and the feeling of chilled floorboards against his cheek. The cool blue moonlight through the window of that cabin.  The horrible slamming he’d tried so hard to block out. The shame of his client’s soul leaving the room alongside a demon’s.

He stared at the ground for a while. “You know a lot about me.”

“I try to learn what I can.”

Tyler frowned, finally looking back up to them. “Then you know that this is my job, right? Not some,” He looked down at the soul, starting to struggle for his words, “Some game? I mean, I could get in serious trouble for losing a soul. You know that, right?”

“I know, I know.” The angel assured him, “But I also know that other reapers have been able to reach certain… compromises. Maybe we could--”

“No.” He interrupted, “There’s no compromise to reach. This is my client. This is my job. I ferry the souls of a dozen horrible, cruel people every day. And you think I’m going to give you one of the decent ones? No. Absolutely not.

“Unless Life or Death tell me otherwise, this soul?” He held the soul up, for the first time the angel allowed themself to look at it. “Belongs on another reincarnation cycle.”

“I promise you I’m not trying to disrupt any sort of--”

“Do you think you know better than Life?” Tyler demanded.

“No, no no, not at all.”

“Better than Death?” He held the soul out further, shaking it in front of him.

“No! I--” The angel stammered. Their eyes flickered between Tyler and the soul he held between them. They took a careful step forward with their hands out, like they were ready to catch the soul if Tyler happened to drop it.

“Please,” They said carefully. “If you would just listen.”

“No!” Tyler shouted. He snatched the soul back and held it protectively against his chest, it’s vibrant green glow shone brightly through his fingers. “There’s nothing else to say about it! I’m not giving you the soul.”

He realized for the first time how the angel loomed over him, how close they were, how far their wings stretched on either side of him. He backed away slowly, his heart drumming hard in his chest now. He clutched the soul tightly in both hands.

“Tell all the angels,” He said, “Or your higher ups, or-- whoever you need to tell to leave me alone. Tell everyone to leave me alone! I want you all to leave me alone!”

He turned to run, to open a rift in reality for escape, anything to put some distance between himself and everything--everyone else, and a hand fell gently, carefully on his shoulder.

A single gunshot echoed through the valley.

Tyler stood with his pistol held high, his gaze levelled on the angel in front of him. They had drawn away, folded their wings in and shrunken in to make themself smaller. Wide, panicked eyes watched Tyler as he slowly lowered his gun, cooly settling his aim on them. Tyler placed his thumb on the hammer, fire burning in his eyes. One shot left.

“I want you all to leave me alone.” He whispered.

The angel nodded quickly, their hands clasped into a nervous, pleading gesture. They didn’t move, their eyes begged Tyler to have mercy, to step away, to let them go. Tyler held their gaze for a long while before he nodded to the sky, and they took their cue to escape. Their wings spread wide, and with one magnificent push, they were gone. Snow swirling on the pavement in their wake.

Tyler looked up in time to see them sail over the ridge and out of sight. He looked down at the soul. The first decent person he’d held in what seemed like months. He didn’t want it. He didn’t know what he wanted.

Right now, he wanted to go home.

He noticed he was still aiming for where the angel had been standing. With a sigh, he holstered his gun and took a seat on the edge of the road. He could see the wreckage at the bottom of the ravine, still soaked in the golden glow of the setting sun. It was getting late, and he had places to be. But he could rest for a while.

[causeiwanttoandican]

Holy crap!

The Telegraph- Camilla Tominey

'She wanted drama': The inside story of the rift between Harry and Meghan and The Firm

As the Sussexes give their tell-all Oprah Winfrey interview, royal insiders reveal the 'other side of the story'

By Camilla Tominey, Associate Editor5 March 2021 • 9:00pm

There was something distinctly familiar about the Oprah Winfrey teaser in which Prince Harry declared: "My biggest concern was history repeating itself."

The words, due to be aired during the Duke and Duchess of Sussexes' tell-all interview on Sunday night, bore an uncanny resemblance to the statement released by Harry's communications secretary, Jason Knauf, in November 2016 after the Sunday Express had revealed that the Prince was dating the American actress.

Confirming that "his girlfriend Meghan Markle" had been "subject to a wave of abuse and harassment", the statement criticised the "racial undertones" of newspaper coverage, adding: "Prince Harry is worried about Ms Markle's safety and is deeply disappointed that he has not been able to protect her. This is not a game – it is her life and his."

The unprecedented salvo created two important narratives around the former Suits star – it formally confirmed her status as the woman in Harry's life but also positioned her, in the eyes of the palace and the public, as the victim at the heart of a media "storm". As the statement suggested, a line had been "crossed".

But the tirade "by the Communications Secretary to Prince Harry" also put Mr Knauf in a compromising position. How was the former director of corporate affairs for the Royal Bank of Scotland going to be able to handle media relations for a couple when the Prince had so publicly made plain their deep hostility towards the press?

Almost exactly two years later, the 39-year-old spin doctor would submit a a bullying claim accusing Meghan of driving two personal assistants out of the household and undermining the confidence of a third staff member.

The Sussexes have denied that Harry pleaded with Mr Knauf not to pursue it, claiming the couple are the victims of a calculated smear campaign based on harmful misinformation. They said the Duchess was "saddened by this latest attack on her character, particularly as someone who has been the target of bullying herself and is deeply committed to supporting those who have experienced pain and trauma".

Those highlighting the "outrageous bullying" say they want to "tell the other side of the story" to the picture expected to be painted by the Duchess on the Oprah special of her "almost unsurvivable" time in the Royal family. "Anyone who is a victim can't bear to watch it," said one.

The couple's lawyers insist Buckingham Palace is manipulating the press to peddle a "wholly false narrative" –notwithstanding the fact that the complainants no longer work in the royal household and the lack of palace action has now prompted an internal inquiry.

The Telegraph has spoken to a number of well-placed insiders who witnessed first-hand the turmoil within the royal household from Meghan's arrival as Prince Harry's girlfriend to the couple's decision to stand down as working royals last year.

All spoke on the condition of anonymity amid claims they had been operating in a "climate of fear", where employees were routinely "humiliated" in front of their peers and repeatedly subjected to "unreasonable demands" by both Meghan and Harry.

Unwilling to play a supporting role

It was not until October 2017, a year after Mr Knauf's unprecedented statement that Meghan gave an interview to Vanity Fair in which she declared of her relationship with Harry: "We're in love. I'm sure there will be a time when we will have to come forward and present ourselves and have stories to tell, but what I hope people will understand is that this is our time."

The public did not have to wait long. Just a month later, the couple announced their engagement with a photocall in the sunken garden at Kensington Palace and an interview with the BBC's Mishal Husain in which Harry described his fiancee as "another team player as part of the bigger team".

Yet behind palace gates, it was quickly becoming apparent that Meghan had no intention of she and Harry being seen as the "supporting act" to the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge, despite their seniority in the royal pecking order.

That Christmas, determined to walk side by side with William and Kate to Sandringham's St Mary Magdalene Church, rather than several steps behind, they were pictured together as the so-called "Fab Four".

The Cambridges invited the Sussexes to spend the festive period at their nearby bolthole, Anmer Hall, an experience Meghan spoke of fondly afterwards. "Meghan was very positive about it," said a former aide.

Two months later, the quartet appeared at their first official event together at the inaugural forum of their Royal Foundation – a highly choreographed event described by one royal insider as "designed to send a message that they would be working as a team. It was all very carefully rehearsed beforehand".

Disagreements with the Cambridges

After Meghan showcased her years of previous work with "larger NGOs and smaller grassroots organisations", both William and Harry acknowledged that working so closely with loved ones had led to "healthy disagreements" over how to best guide the foundation's work.

"Working as a family does have its challenges, of course it does," Harry said. "But we're stuck together for the rest of our lives."

By now, Kensington Palace staff had already become familiar with a mantra that would come to characterise the run-up to the Sussexes' wedding in May 2018.

"Want Meghan wants, Meghan gets" may have been shouted by Prince Harry to Angela Kelly, the Queen's personal assistant, following a row over a tiara – but royal aides were already well acquainted with the importance of meeting the Duchess's exacting standards.

"Everyone wanted her to be happy because they knew that would make him happy," said one. "Do whatever it takes to make it work for Meghan was the mantra. We all cared deeply about Harry. Contrary to this idea that they weren't supported, we were going to great lengths to accommodate their needs."

So much so that there was an extraordinary incident during the couple's first tour of Scotland when members of the palace PR team "body blocked" Meghan's former adviser Gina Nelthorpe-Cowne during a visit to an Edinburgh cafe in what one former aide described as "the most embarrassing moment of my professional career".

The Duchess had apparently expressed "a reluctance to make eye contact" with Ms Nelthorpe-Cowne, who was reduced to having to post an Instagram shot of her former close friend and client visiting the Social Bites cafe from a considerable distance. "Anyone from the past was a problem," observed the former aide.

Ms Nelthorpe-Cowne's name would later reappear in court documents accusing Meghan's close friend and stylist Jessica Mulroney of "putting pressure on her [Ms Nelthorpe-Cowne] to withdraw or change statements" she had made in an April 2018 interview with the Mail on Sunday.

The defence documents claimed the Sunday newspaper's features editor complained about the intervention to Mr Knauf, who allegedly responded by saying he would ensure "this does not happen again". In the piece, Ms Nelthorpe-Cowne described Meghan as: "Picky, not only when it comes to her clothes but also her colleagues, instantly dismissing those who didn’t share her 'vision'."

Describing how the Duchess had "given me a bit of a difficult time" after meeting Harry, she added: "Meghan likes to move on".

When contacted by The Telegraph, Ms Nelthorpe-Cowne declined to comment on the incident.

'Email bombardments'

As the world was gearing up for what the LA Times had billed as "a royal wedding for the 21st century", behind palace gates the atmosphere was becoming fraught.

Staff had grown used to "email bombardments" by Meghan and Harry, with one describing how "the last thing we'd do before going to sleep is reply to their messages and the first thing we'd do in the morning is reply to their messages. Weekends, holidays – there were no boundaries. They live on their phones all the time".

Despite publicly claiming they largely ignored the press coverage, in reality the couple were often consumed by it. "They're both very thin-skinned," said one former employee.

Meghan's supporters say staff members "who preferred a more genteel pace" could not keep up with the Duchess's "American work ethic" – with one close friend now suggesting the criticism was racially motivated. "Find me a woman of colour in a senior position who has not been accused of being too angry, too scary, too whatever in the workplace," the friend said.

Yet it was not just palace employees who found themselves on the receiving end of "inescapable screaming and shouting".

Much has been written about the bridesmaids' dress fitting, first revealed in The Telegraph in November 2018, that left the Duchess of Cambridge in tears.

Contrary to subsequent reports that the row concerned Princess Charlotte's tights, what actually happened was that the dress itself did not fit Kate's then nearly three-year-old daughter. According to a well-placed source, "demands were made about when subsequent fittings would be, and Kate left sobbing".

While Meghan's allies suggest that Kate did not make enough of an effort to welcome her future sister-in-law into the royal fold, allies of the Cambridges suggest she "tried to arrange social things" and invited her to watch tennis together but "there was a sense that Meghan never really wanted to be friends".

Those inside the palace concede, however, that the Cambridges can "appear standoffish" and are "often out of contact for extended periods".

Another former royal aide claimed the Duke, particularly, appreciated the "deflection" from his own occasionally demanding behaviour. "Bullying is endemic across all the households," the former aide added.

"The Meghan thing is a disgrace, but it's not in isolation. They cut you out, undermine you, talk down to you. One minute you're in – the next you're persona non grata. Some staff have special protection. I've never witnessed behaviour like it before. I wish I'd never seen behind the curtain."

A reprimand from the Queen

One member of staff afforded "special protection" is Angela Kelly, who has served as the Queen's closest aide since 2002. Rumours of Meghan being dubbed "Duchess Difficult" began to surface around the time it emerged that the Liverpudlian docker's daughter had been given a tongue-lashing by Harry.

Yet what was never accurately reported around the time of "Tiaragate" was that far from being denied the item from the Crown Jewels she wanted, Meghan was in fact given her first choice.

The argument erupted after the Duchess demanded that Queen Mary's Diamond Bandeau Tiara be produced for an unscheduled hairdressing appointment.

"Angela told Harry it was priceless and couldn't suddenly be handed over at short notice. He was furious and shouted: 'What Meghan wants, Meghan gets.' Suffice to say it didn't go down too well." So badly, in fact, that the no-nonsense 53-year-old, who has her own fearsome reputation among colleagues, reported the incident to the Queen, prompting a grandmotherly telling off for Harry.

Little did the Prince know at the time that staff had also given him a nickname: "The hostage".

According to one person with first-hand knowledge of the events: "They insisted that they had the same inflation-adjusted budget for the wedding as William and Kate – she got the choir she wanted, the dress, the carriage procession, the tiara – she got everything she wanted but it still wasn't enough.

"She was constantly looking for reasons to say she had been deprived. Also, she wanted drama from the very beginning."

Although the couple wanted their spokespeople to deny it, a story about Meghan requesting air freshener to be sprayed around the "musty" St George's Chapel was true, according to multiple sources.

Even The Kingdom Choir did not get off lightly after the couple changed their song 12 times before they were happy with the arrangement of "Stand By Me". As choir member Karen Gibson revealed: "Gospel music is all about the cherries on top and it's not about stinting on anything. But we got word back that they wanted something a little less, so we did a second version which had an Etta James arrangement but again we had word back that it wasn't right."

The group was then asked to meet Harry and Meghan face to face, before the couple finally settled on an arrangement after 11 previous attempts.

"The wedding was hugely stressful for everyone involved in it," said one former aide. "Staff were spending most of their time having smooth things over with suppliers."

Tears before the big day

The "Markle Debacle", when Meghan's father Thomas pulled out of the wedding at the last minute, only added to the tension as royal aides scrambled to "rescue" the narrative around the "big day" by having the Prince of Wales step in to walk Meghan down the aisle.

Despite Meghan later claiming to ITV's Tom Bradby that "not many people have asked if I'm ok", royal insiders insist they "rallied around" the couple – who were both in tears at times.

The Most Rev Justin Welby, the Archbishop of Canterbury, who officiated the ceremony, is also understood to have given "psychological as well as spiritual" support. The principle leader of the Church of England caused hilarity among his staff by failing to recognise Ms Winfrey at the lunchtime reception at Windsor Castle, asking the US chat show host what she did for a living.

By the time the couple had returned from their honeymoon, relations between the Sussexes, the Cambridges and their staff became so bad that Harry and Meghan appeared reluctant to engage with anyone at the June 2018 leaving party for Miguel Head, William's former private secretary.

According to two separate sources, the couple "remained aloof" throughout the bash in the private garden at Kensington Palace. "It was a really convivial atmosphere with William giving a touching speech about Mig, but Harry and Meghan just remained on the outskirts and didn't mingle with anyone. They were the last to arrive and the first to leave."

Eyebrows were similarly raised when, having shared the news of her pregnancy at the Champagne reception following Princess Eugenie's wedding to Jack Brooksbank in October 2018, Meghan declined to attend the evening do. The bride was said to have been "upset" that Harry only "popped along for a drink without Meghan" – although they were due to fly to Australia for their first Commonwealth tour the day after.

During the 16-day tour, which also took in Fiji, Tonga and New Zealand, the couple appeared reluctant to engage with the press. Although Harry managed to be persuaded at one point to speak to reporters at the back of the plane, he told them: "Thanks for coming, even though you weren't invited."

Bullying claims emerge

On the same trip, it was claimed that Meghan had cut short a visit to a market in Fiji because she was concerned about the presence of a UN organisation promoting women, with which she had previously worked but now was no longer associated.

At the time, officials suggested that it was because it was humid and the crowd was oppressive in the market. After Meghan had been ushered away, a female member of her entourage was spotted sitting in an official car, looking extremely upset. Meghan's female personal protection officer left her post shortly afterwards.

Lawyers for the Duchess said she met other leaders from UN Women later on the tour and denied she left for the reason alleged.

Although Mr Knauf had not gone on the tour, he is thought to have been "deeply concerned" by reports of the couple's behaviour overseas.

"There was a sense that they were just refusing to take advice, and insisting on doing everything their way," said one royal source. "No one, from the most senior to the most junior employee, wasn't under constant attack," said another.

Matters came to a head in October 2018 following the departure of a second member of the Duchess's private office.

Mr Knauf emailed Simon Case, then William's private secretary and now the Cabinet Secretary, after conversations with Samantha Carruthers, the head of HR. Mr Case then forwarded it to Ms Carruthers, who is based at Clarence House.

The email read: "I am very concerned that the Duchess was able to bully two PAs out of the household in the past year. The treatment of X* was totally unacceptable. The Duchess seems intent on always having someone in her sights. She is bullying Y and seeking to undermine her confidence. We have had report after report from people who have witnessed unacceptable behaviour towards Y."

The email, which also expressed concern about the stress being experienced by Samantha Cohen, the couple's private secretary, concluded: "I questioned if the household's policy on harassment and bullying applies to principals."

While Mr Case was "very personally supportive" of the individual members of staff, Mr Knauf expressed his concern in the email that "nothing will be done". The palace is now holding an investigation, having been criticised for failing to act sooner.

It was not until a month later that it was reported that Melissa Toubati, the Duchess's former PA, had "quit suddenly", just six months into the job. The following month, it was announced that Ms Cohen would not stay in post after the Sussexes' baby was born.

The couple were apparently "furious" about reports of their high staff turnover, piling more pressure on their PR team to "try to turn negative headlines into positive ones".

According to one former employee: "What people fail to understand is Harry's hatred of the media is probably one of the most important things in his life. It is defining for him. So the narrative is always – it’s the press's fault, never theirs."

That Christmas, the Sussexes were once again photographed alongside the Cambridges on Dec 25 but opted to stay with the Queen at the "main house" rather than Anmer Hall.

It came after an awkward staff Christmas party in which "all mention of Melissa's name was banned", according to one royal insider. "It was as if she never existed." Some employees found it hard to reconcile the couple's erratic conduct with moments of genuine kindness, such as when Meghan would buy female staff members flowers or even jewellery.

Relations break down

By the New Year, relations within Kensington Palace had "irretrievably broken down," with Prince Harry no longer on speaking terms with Mr Knauf after he had failed to persuade him to drop the complaint against his wife. The Sussexes' lawyers deny any such conversation took place.

Sources close to the couple say Ms Toubati, who was asked to sign a non-disclosure agreement, was sacked for misconduct, pointing out neither staff member made complaints of their own to HR. Ms Toubati's friends deny she was sacked for misconduct.

With Harry and Meghan already operating in a silo – and increasingly consulting the Duchess's US team of advisers rather than palace officials – a split of the two households at Kensington Palace appeared an inevitability.

It was around the time that the couple moved to Frogmore Cottage in Windsor in March 2019 that Amy Pickerill became the third of the Duchess's staff to leave her role, having served as her assistant private secretary since November 2017.

Mr Knauf also stepped down to work as senior adviser to the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge. He is now chief executive of the Cambridges' Royal Foundation. Friends say he "bitterly regrets" not warning Sara Latham, who was appointed as the Sussexes' director of communications in April 2019, how difficult working for the couple could be.

The American PR supremo, who used to advise the Clintons, quickly worked this out for herself when the couple insisted on secrecy around son Archie's birth on May 6, while trying to maximise global coverage.

Around the same time it was falsely claimed that the Duchess had been prevented from doing an interview with CBS anchor Gayle King, Ms Winfrey's close friend. In fact, insiders say "the Duchess was calling shots throughout."

It came after Meghan had attended a high-profile baby shower in New York with Serena Williams and Amal Clooney, without being accompanied by any palace press officers. Concerns were raised behind palace gates when freebies started arriving at New York's Mark Hotel, causing consternation for staff back in the UK having to wrestle with the Royal family's strict rules on gifting.

Having courted controversy throughout the summer of 2019 for snubbing the Queen's invitation to Balmoral and taking four private jets in 11 days instead, relations with the media were at rock bottom at the start of the Sussexes' September tour to Africa.

Royal aides were then left dumbfounded when what had been a surprisingly successful 10-day trip with Archie was overshadowed by Meghan's interview with Mr Bradby, in which she revealed the "struggles" she had faced adapting to life in the Royal family.

Duke's fears for wife

It came as Harry released an attack on the tabloid press as the couple announced they would be suing the Mail on Sunday over the publication of a letter Meghan had written to her father.

In a highly personal and scathing statement, Harry said some newspapers had "vilified her almost daily for the past nine months" and claimed they had published "lie after lie" at Meghan's expense simply because she was out of public view on maternity leave.

Referencing his mother Diana, Princess of Wales, who died in a car crash in Paris while being pursued by the paparazzi, the Duke said: "Though this action may not be the safe one, it is the right one. Because my deepest fear is history repeating itself. I lost my mother and now I watch my wife falling victim to the same powerful forces."

The interview set the tone for their January 2020 announcement that they would be "stepping back as senior royals" to become "financially independent".

As the world gathers to watch the most highly anticipated royal television event since Diana's Panorama interview in 1995, it will be left to the viewers to decide which version of history represents the truth.

[winter-is-lost]

TRANSFORMERS : MTMTE

Rodimus x Cybertronian! Reader

Y/n = Your name

Y/f/c = Your frame colour

Warnings : I'm honestly gonna stop adding these 'warnings' cause trust me even I have absolutely no idea how it's gonna turn out. But I hope I can do well and hopefully, it turns out good. :)

○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○

《 Reader's P.O.V.》

Betrayed...Tired..Exhausted...No. All this felt like an understatement.

..I was done..

My autobot badge, that I once wore with such pride and joy had long since lost it's shine, now rundown and broken, covered with my energon. One could only imagine how it still managed to hold on to me. Then again, I wasn't in a good shape either now, was I? No. I had managed to snag a ship and barely escaped.. My ship crashlanded on some random planet. I didn't care which as long as it was away from there.

Pulling myself out of the wreckage of my ship I proceeded to make my way towards an urban inhabited area. I struggled to maintain my balance, stumbling here and there before my body eventually gives up making me fall like an asteroid. I place my hands near me, trying to push myself off the ground.

A futile attempt...

..What's the use anyway..It's not like I have any place to go to...any one to return to..what does it matter..

I lay there on the ground. Bright red warning signs flashing infront of my sight. It was happening...Is this how I was gonna go...

I laid there for God knows how long before I heard the sounds of pedesteps rushing in my direction before coming to a stop near me.

I felt someone placing a servo on my shoulder plate and shaking it gently, as if in fear of causing any further harm to my already damaged body.

"-eed a doctor. You los-"...barely being able to listen, I somehow managed to catch a glimpse of the bot...Orange..with..with glasses.

"-be ok. Just..just hang in ther-"

That was the last thing I could make out before my optics offlined...

===============================

{ years later }

"-so, I think it would be a nice experience for us to go." Rung turned away from his datapads to look up at me with a soft smile gracing his faceplates.

We were both preparing for the journey we were to take part in. Rung informed me yesterday of a mech designated Broadi..no wait - Daud..no,no..YEAH! Rung informed me yesterday of a mech by the designation Rodimus who had proposed a journey across space in order to find the Knights of Cybertron.

Unsurprisingly, Rung wanted to leave on this journey too. Of course, not because of finding the Knights or anything, but because of his love for space ships and the journeys they bring.

I mean, it was pretty obvious to me as I was placing his models of the ark ships into a box so it would be easier to carry while he was making sure he handled all the data and knowledge of his clients properly before leaving.

"Yeah, you're right. It does seem like it's gonna be fun, so why not." I reply as I place another one of the models into the box.

It was kinda true. I was actually going along because of him.

You see, after the war has just barely ended mostly everyone knows how to fight. Then, there's Rung. Now, I don't mean to sound like I'm berating him but he just...he can't fight..he doesn't even have the build most average mechs have. On top of that, he's kind-hearted and a gentlemech, which is nice but makes it all the more easier for someone to harm him.

People are willing to use others for their own benefit, to achieve their goals, even the ones you know for the longest of time, trust me, I'd know...and that's where I come in. I make sure to keep him out of harm's way to the best of my abilities, he's someone that I care for and respect like a..a..what was the organic term for it...a brother, yup, like a brother. The universe needs more good people like him.

Besides...he did save me all those years back, so God forbid if I let anything happen to him. Of course, he doesn't know that..or maybe he does but just pretends that he doesn't, but let me tell you, aside from physical *ahem violent* confrontations, he can handle himself just fine - the guy's been aboard all the Ark ships, that's gotta mean something right.

===============================

"NEXT!"

Finally. After standing in the long line of passengers waiting to board the Lost Light for what seemed like a thousand cycles. It was finally our turn. Rung and I made our way towards the 'Head of Security' for one final inspection before being allowed aboard the ship. Since I was Rung's assisstant, sort of, I remember this guy, he was Rung's client for a couple of centuries. His name was..Red Alert, I think.

"ONE HUNDRED MILLION! That's an impressive serial code,..Er.." Red Alert looks up at Rung with a suprised expression plastered across his face plates. I clench my dentas together in an attempt to hold my laughter.

After everything and everyone was on board and with our ship Quantum jumping God knows where.

Everyone was called by Rodimus, the ship's captain for a debriefing about the current events. I didn't hear much because I don't know why but there was something about this guy...something familiar...weird because I don't remember seeing him before.

The longer I looked at him, that feeling of familiarity turned into a slight feeling of unknown dread settling itself into my fuel tanks.

The debriefing was done and everyone around me was leaving to handle the task at hand, just as I was going to leave as well, I ended up making eye contact with Rodimus.

That feeling of dread and slight anger mixed with some sadness came back to me as I stood there frozen in my spot. I could tell he felt something too just by the way his optics widened and his jaw hung open. As if something unexpected had happened. As if someone you had once lost to the realm of death had come back...

I saw his mouth move slightly, as if trying to whisper out a name. MY name..?..

"..Y/n." I was brought back from my trance when I felt a servo touch my shoulder. Looking down at the owner of the hand, I was quite relieved to see Rung looking back up at me with concern evident across his faceplates. "What's wrong Y/n?"

"Nothing, nothing at all," I give a small smile to reassure him. I decided not to worry him about something like this, afterall, it could just be a side effect from that faulty quantum leap.

《 Rodimus' P.O.V. 》

There had a been a breach in the hull caused by the sudden quantum leap. We had 40 crew mates drifting across space that we had to save. We NEEDED to save. No way am I gonna leave MY crew behind.....Not this time.

After giving everyone a brief idea of what had happened and what needed to be done. I was preparing to leave for the mission - gathering back the 40 lost crew members, when my optics landed on a familiar Y/f/c bot. Is that...No. It can't be. Nope. Not real. She/he isn't real...is she/he?

She/he turned her/his helm in my direction and our optics met....it was her/him...But how..I..I thought she/he had...I thought she/he had died when our team was attacked back on Ki-Aleta...

But she/he was here, right here, on my ship, right in front of me...

I wanted to call out to her/him, but before I could I noticed a slightly smaller mech with an orange frame and slim built approach her/him. Their interactions reminded me of how we used to be like this back in the day. She/he was always there to lighten up the entire team even at the darkest times, no matter how tough or impossible a mission would seem, she/he never gave up. She/he always had our backs..My back. I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel something more for her/him. I thought I had lost her/him back on Ki-Aleta. She's/he's here..I need to talk to her/him..

As I look back to see her/him and the orange mech making their way back to their quarters, I push back my thoughts of her/him and attempt to focus on current mission.

===============================

{ A time skip to when the Lost Lighters found a sparkeater aboard the ship, brought to you by Rung's adorable noodle arms }

===============================

《 Reader's P.O.V. 》

As I was sitting on the edge of the bridge in the Oil reservoir I couldn't help but let my thoughts run back to that Rodimus guy and this dreadful feeling of familiarity. He did remind me of someone though... Someone I'd rather forget about. His optics, I had a feeling like I'd seen them before, but I hadn't even met this guy...right?..

Though I was getting kinda suspicious of him being someone from my past. The similarity between the names. The way he had addressed the crew, the way he spoke, even his colour scheme was similar...so similar to an old friend..one that I was close to, one that I loved, one that I trusted....all just to see him leave me behind admist the enemy and the dead bodies of our team mates.

I had hoped that he would return, he might have just gone to get help. How silly...

I was brought out of my thoughts when I heard the sound of emergency sirens going off. As I made my way out of the ship's oil reservoir, a voice on the hallway's comm informed everyone of a little inconvenience that had occured and advised everyone to find a room and lock themselves in for a short while...for safety reasons...

Just turning around the corner and witnessing the dead body of a crew member I sadly did not remember the name of, was enough to convince me that this was more than just a 'little inconvenience'. Approaching the dead body I did what any rational bot would do,

I poked it.

I flipped the dead body over and instantly wished I hadn't. This guy wasn't just plain old dead, he was completely sliced up. His brain module had been torn out, his chasis was ripped apart...But what horrified me the most was his damaged spark chamber. It was as if..as if something had clawed it's way through.

I nearly jumped when I heard the sound of the elevator door opening in the distance, followed by the sounds of rushing pedesteps. Leaning from behind the corner I saw Rung running down the hall with a blue bot, Skids as I remember, seconds later a Sparkeater running after them.

Wait..

.

.

A SPARKEATER?!

I moved out into the hallway and saw an elevator with the door ripped open. Inside there was a yellow and blue bot with a briefcase strapped to his arm looking back up at me from his place near the far back corner of the elevator, obviously terrified. Suddenly it hit me, there was a sparkeater on the loose...right now after Rung...

I turned around and tore down the hallway to where I saw them going. The Engine room, that's where I found them.

My eyes landed on the Sparkeater as it was rushing towards..towards..RUNG who was being held in place by Rodimus?!

Infuriated was an understatement. I was beyond that. HOW DARE HE?!

"NOOOO!!" I dashed towards them but before I could reach I felt someone stop me and hold me back in place as I continued to kick and move out of there grasp.

I had to do something. I wasn't gonna let anything happen to Rung. I couldn't.

Not only had he saved me, he was my closest friend. I couldn't just sit back and watch him die, I couldn't just not do anything. I couldn't LEAVE MY FRIEND.

Then I saw it, admist it all, the resemblance, the similarity. It was him..It was him all along...Hot Rod...and he was still ready to give up someone else to save himself.

I glared at Rodimus as he held Rung in place despite hearing him protest. HOW CAN HE DO THAT TO A CREW MATE?!

I kicked myself free from my captor but ended up getting hit behind the helm by someone. The last thing I saw before blacking out was Rung being shoved to the side.

===============================

When my optics onlined I came to realize that I was laying on a metal berth probably in the medical bay.

Slowly getting up I placed a servo behind my helm where I was hit.

"You're up early."

I snapped my helm towards the source of the sound, clearly not expecting anyone to be there before.

When my optics landed on the all-too-familiar flame design. "You..." I glared at him.I clenched my servos and through gritted dentae I tried to control my anger. "Where is he .?.."

"..I'm righ-"

"Not YOU. Where is RUNG!?" The scowl on my face probably showed him that I was not in the mood to joke around.

*sigh* "He's fine. He's in his

habsuite."

I nodded my helm slightly in acknowledgement.

He managed a small smile, "Your

new friend was quite stubborn.

He refused to leave and wanted

to stay in case you woke up.

Ratchet sent him to his habsuite."

My 'new friend'.?...

"Yup, he's like that. Doesn't like leaving his friends behind." I remarked, putting a subtle emphasis on 'leaving' and 'friends'.

His smile faltered as he turned his gaze away from me before he stared at me again, this time there was a sad look in his optics which almost made me soften before I remembered all he had done both to me as Hot Rod and to Rung as Rodimus and I hardened my glare further.

"I..I'm sorry Y/n. I kno-"

"What for? Letting others die? Prioritizing a stupid oracle over the lives of our friends? Abandoning us just to save yourself? Leaving me behind in Ki-Aleta between the enemy fires and the dead bodies of our fallen team mates?" Speaking those words it came back to me, all the pain, the hopelessness, the anger, the sadness..the betrayal...

"For all of them Y/n. I'm sorry.

I regret leaving you like that

but I had to do it."

I let out a dry chuckle at that,"Of course you had to."

"I was under strict orders Y/n.

Orders the rest of you didn't

know about."

"So?.. I thought we were a team. Do you realize if only you had informed us of these 'strict orders' before, we would have gone there better prepared. GIZMO AND DOWNLOAD WOULD STILL BE ALIVE!" I felt my voice waver at the mention of our long dead team mates.

"Y/n-"

"SAVE IT HOT ROD! Even when you had a chance, you chose to save yourself. When you left us..left ME behind, Rod, I was in denial. I still believed like a fool that you would come back. You'd be there. You wouldn't just abandon us like that. I kept hoping that you'll be back.....but I could only keep hoping so much. One day I realizd you weren't coming back. That was the day I realized we were all just acceptable losses to you, just collateral damage.."

I placed a servo across my optics to hide the Lubricants threatening to leave them, "..And to think I loved you..Trusted you with my life.."

"Y/n..Look, I know what I did was

wrong, but like I said, I was under

the strictest of orders.." He paused,

probably to see if I would interrupt

him or not, before speaking again, "I should've told all of you. I thought if I did then it would complicate the mission too much. But now, seeing how things turned out for all of us, it would have been better if I had."

"Rod..sto-"

"I went back."

I removed the servo covering my optics and looked at him. Instead of anger, there was slight shock mixed with sadness in them as I processed what he just said.."Huh..?.."

"I went back for you. All of you. I couldn't find anyone except Dealer. I thought you had died Y/n and it was my fault. I spent so many sleepless nights wondering all the different ways I could have saved you, all the different 'what ifs'. I was frustrated and angry at myself for letting you suffer that fate."

He reached his servo out for mine, holding it gently, softly as if I would break.

"I know..It's not much use saying sorry now. Nothing I say can ever excuse my actions, but please Y/n. Give me a chance. A chance to make up for all of it. I finally found you after so many eons, after I thought I lost you forever. Even though I know you hate me, just give me one chance to rebuild our trust and all that we had. Just one more chance to make things right. Hmm?"

"Rod.." I looked up at him. I saw the sincerity in his optics. No matter how much I tried, even after all that happened, I still couldn't hate him, my anger was slowly fading, giving way to sadness. The sight of our servos clasped together, drowned me in nostalgia.

"..I could never hate you..*sigh* It may take a while for us to go back to the way we used to be. Rod..I may be able to forgive with time but..but it's gonna be hard to forget.." He gave my servo a small reassuring squeeze. "But I'm willing to take a chance and start over."

I looked at him and saw relief mixed with happiness in his optics.

"I'll never abandon you..never again."

A small but genuine smile spread across my faceplates as I felt my spark warm up. The feelings for him, I had once buried within me started to resurface, slow yet steady.

●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●

Aightttttt peeps so that was it with this one-shot. I hope you had fun reading this (I know it was kinda long and maybbbbe sort of all over the place, sooooo thank youuuuu for bearing all that.)

I'm open to all advices and suggestions, so please feel free to speak your mind on how I can improve.

Have a good day everyone~

[anogete]

In Between

Hi, folks.  I’m sorry I have nothing to offer as far as fic goes.  Things have been... ::sigh::  You know, I don’t know what things have been.  Not good, not bad.  Just... things.  I wanted to talk--get things out of my head--this morning, but I realized I don’t have a person/outlet who can accept these things right now.  So, I will put them here for anyone who cares to read them.

1) My car blew up.  Well, the engine did.  I was on my way back home with groceries last Saturday, and I lost all ability to accelerate and brake.  So, I puttered out on the side of the road and waited to be saved.  The issue may be covered under the warranty so I had it taken to the dealership.  They’ve had it for a week and still don’t have answers for me besides an offer to lend me a car for free until they can figure out what to do with my car.

2) This deserves it’s own point, though I almost included it on the first point.  I’ve never bought a car without my grandmother.  She was under five feet tall and had a tendency to wear sweat pants and Christmas sweaters year-round.  She smoked Winston Lights and carried a purse covered in rhinestones.  The car salesmen didn’t know what hit them because she wasn’t at all the sweet old lady who would roll over and accept their first offer.  She was hard to read and she wouldn’t give an inch.  She also wouldn’t tell them what she was willing to pay.  No counter offers from her; she’d just tell you to “do better.”  Anyway, she worked her magic when I bought all three of my cars.  When I realized the problem with the engine was serious and might require me getting a new car, I went into a mental tailspin.  Yeah, yeah, I was worried about fitting it into my budget and all that, but mostly I couldn’t seem to cope with buying a car on my own without my grandma there to hold my hand.  I’m almost 39 years old and the thought of doing this without her had me sobbing in the floor.  Except, I didn’t realize my tailspin was due to my grandmother at first.  At first, I just thought I was incapable of handling stress.  Maybe that’s still accurate.

3) While we’re talking about expensive-ass shit, I knew the air conditioner and furnace on this house needed to be replaced sooner rather than later when I bought it last February.  It looks like the time has come.  I managed to find a nice man with very odd hair (think a longer version of the Prince Valiant hair-do, but bright white) through my boyfriend’s dad.  He does this for a living and said he’d give me a discount and do for $5,000 what other places were telling me would cost $9,000.  So, that’s happening next week.  I have the money, but the idea of writing a $5,000 check makes me want to puke.  Ugh.

4) The days are running together.  I’m working from home.  I can’t complain, though.  I’ve got it better than most.  I’m alone all day.  I have a library with a desk.  I can go downstairs and make tea or lunch in my own kitchen.  I’m getting paid my full salary with bonuses.  I can pretty much make my own hours.  The company I work for is taking the pandemic seriously and has told us that we can all work from home until we feel comfortable returning to the office.  Their timeline for “normal” is months.  I don’t think I’ll be back in the office until late summer, if that.  Those who want to return are permitted to, but they can’t use the public areas (kitchen, conference rooms) and have to abide by some strict safety requirements.  And they can choose when and how often they go into the office, working the remainder of the time at home.  So, better than most.

5) I’ve been doing this social distancing thing since March 19th.  It’s not difficult for me.  On good days I’ll exercise (I have a Peloton) before logging into work around 9am.  On not-good days (which seem to be more often than not), I’ll skip the exercise and just log into work early.  Work keeps me busy and I spend a decent amount of my day on the phone with clients.  I go to the grocery store once a week, but I order for pickup.  Someone else does the shopping for me and loads it into my trunk.  This is nothing new.  I’ve been shopping that way for years.  Now it’s just harder to get my usual pickup slot because everyone else has joined the party.  I do miss taking a break from work and leaving my office to grab a coffee and sit outside on a bench downtown.  I guess I could do that outside my own house, but it just doesn’t feel the same.

6) A few months ago, a husband and wife who are clients came in to meet with me at my office.  They’re in their 80s and both were having trouble walking.  They parked in the garage next door and couldn’t find the elevator to exit.  I walked over and escorted them to our office building.  They were both struggling with walking and the wife (Rose) had been fighting lung cancer for a couple years, so I suggested they wait outside and I’d valet their car once we were done.  The thought of making the trek to their car alone was painful to me because it was a monumental struggle for them to walk down a hallway.  Their daughter-in-law called me two days ago.  Rose passed away two weeks ago.  The husband, a former literature professor for a university, was in the hospital with four broken ribs because he’d fallen shortly after Rose’s passing.  He was a Jewish child in Nazi Germany during the war.  He’d told me stories about hiding from the Nazis, surviving off of tree bark and whatever he could find in the forests.  He also jokingly told me that he’d live until he was 120.  Now, it looks like he won’t survive the year.  He and Rose would tease each other all the time, but you could see all that love between them. Whenever I’d call him, he’d ask me in that wonderful accent to wait while he got “the boss” on the phone as well.  Rose thought it was silly that she was “the boss,” but she humored him.  You know, they’re shorties, too.  Five foot, nothing.  Just like my grandma.  Hearing that Rose was gone and Dr. (he’s a PhD) was likely soon to follow just broke my already fragile heart.

7) Fragile heart, huh?  Yeah.  After the car situation and the realization that one day I’m going to have to do big life things without having my grandma to help me, I was feeling pretty raw.  But I’ve been trying to be responsible and do things I’ve been putting off lately.  So, I gathered up all those medical bills from Ferguson’s illness last September.  (Ferguson was my soulmate little chihuahua mix that I had for over 13 years.)  I had pet insurance on him and hadn’t bothered to make the claim because I couldn’t handle it.  But it’s been almost a year so I pulled out the invoices, which were over $2,000, and logged into the website and starting inputting the info to file the claims.  The little box asks for a description of why I took him to the vet.  And answering that question just brought back all that shit like a wave.  I remember reading this nice description of grief and how it is like waves.  At first they’re big and they knock you around and you can’t breathe.  But over time they get smaller and you learn how to navigate them.  Still there, but manageable.  Filling in that box resulted in a bit of a tidal wave that knocked me on my ass.  My boyfriend came home to find me sobbing at my desk like a lunatic..  He’s... not so good with emotional shit.  And I usually keep it bottled up so that no one knows what’s going on inside me.  But some days...  Some days it just overflows.  So, after confirming that nothing terrible had occurred and that I was reliving September 2019, he slowly backed out of the room to leave me with my grief-wave.

8) I want to be one of those succulent people.  You know, the ones who have succulents lining their windowsills.  The dining room and kitchen windows are full of this oddball little plants.  The boyfriend hates it, but I told him he’d have to deal.  I’ll die on this hill.  I’m a succulent lady.

9) I’ve been reading memoirs or, rather, memoirs through collections of essays.  I don’t know if it’s the mental state I’m in or if social distancing has got me subconsciously reaching out for life beyond my head, but I can’t seem to read much else.  I loved Liz Phair’s Horror Stories.  I’m reading The Book of Help by Megan Griswold right now.  I’m determined to procure a signed copy of What Doesn’t Kill You Makes You Blacker by Damon Young.  He did a virtual event for a local bookseller recently and they have signed copies available for purchase.  I just need to muster up the will to call them and ask them to hold one for me.  The little snippets of their life and experiences via these memoirs through essays bring me some measure of comfort.

10) I tried to watch Euphoria on HBO.  I managed to make it through the first episode, but I don’t think I can watch more.  I can’t relate, but that normally isn’t a necessity for an enjoyable story.  Maybe it’s just too depressing for me right now.

11) I binged Dollface on Hulu and wish I had more to watch.  Parts of it hit me hard.  I’ve always had trouble maintaining friendships, period.  But maintaining friendships while in a relationship has been damn near impossible for me.  Just like Jules.  Except, I’m not nearly as cool or gorgeous as Kat Dennings.  And I have no friends in this city to go back to.  Just friends at work. 

12) I haven’t worn makeup for 2 solid months.  I’m starting to miss it.  I found old selfies I’d taken in which I don’t recognize myself.  Did I ever look like that?  I must have since here is photographic evidence.  I look like shit now.  I’m forever in yoga pants and a hoodie with half-wet hair from the shower.  Maybe putting on a pair of jeans and a cute shirt and some makeup will make me feel like a human being again.  Maybe I’m not doing as well as I thought in quarantine.  Huh.

13) I hope you all are well.  If you’ve sent me a message, I’m so sorry for not responding.  My mental state has been delicate lately and the silence from me has nothing to do with your kind words.  I promise I read and treasure and appreciate anything that is sent to me.  I’m also sorry for having no offering of fic or a promise of something to come.  I haven’t written since last summer.  It’s been almost a year.  I guess I’m in a dry spell.

14) Since I’ve been struggling with loss/grief lately, I’ll leave you with a quote from Philip Pullman, taken from his novel The Amber Spyglass.  It’s about death, I suppose.  Or maybe just a transition to something else entirely.  It’s nice to think of my grandma and Rose and my sweet, sweet love of a dog falling in the raindrops and riding on the wind through tall grass.  If it wasn’t raining, I’d take my computer outside right now.

“Even if it means oblivion, friends, I'll welcome it, because it won't be nothing. We'll be alive again in a thousand blades of grass, and a million leaves; we'll be falling in the raindrops and blowing in the fresh breeze; we'll be glittering in the dew under the stars and the moon out there in the physical world, which is our true home and always was.” 

[capricornus-rex]

A Shadow of What You Used to Be (8)

Chapter 8: Ensnared | Cal Kestis x Irele Skywalker

Summary: There is another! Years after young Anakin Skywalker departed Tatooine, his mother Shmi delivers a second child—this time, a daughter. Whilst the circumstance of the girl’s birth remains unexplained, Irele Skywalker has yet to choose the true path between those laid out for her.

Tags: Fem! OC, Irele Skywalker, Force-sensitive! OC, Anakin’s Younger Sister, Skywalker! OC, Darth Vader’s Secret Apprentice, Long-lost Sibling

A/N: Hi guys, I’m happy that you’re enjoying the story so far! But I have to let you know that I’ll be in a quick pause from publishing chapters for a while because I have to drop off my laptop in the shop again to have my new SSD put in (because I don’t know how to do it myself). They said it might take five working days, but that will still depend on my place in line. So this might be the last chapter for now, but I hope I get this baby back soon!

Requesting to be tagged: @heavenly1927​

Also in AO3

Chapters: Prelude – 1 – 2 – 3 – 4 – 5 – 6 | Previous: Part 7 | Next: Part 9 | Masterlist

9 of ?

“Hey, Irele, I got a job for us!” the Twi’lek boy, Frelik, panted as he supported himself on the arch of their door, as if he came sprinting from the town to their house in the salt flats.

“For who? Where? When!?” Irele bombarded back, and luckily Frelik answered all questions.

Irele looked over his shoulder, he had reached her house using the sand skimmer that all five of them worked together on. She told them to wait, hurried back inside, jumping to the floor from the first landing of the stairs to the rotunda and sprinted to her bedroom. She was all over the place—flashing from one side of the room to the other, swiping her pack with her tools and her scarf lying in different spots.

“I’m going out!” she announced in a voice loud enough for Owen and Beru to hear, wherever they were, and there was no time for either husband or wife to respond. They just heard the door whiz open and then shut.

Another wrangling job with her friends. It was a normal day, but it was something she enjoyed.

They’ve traveled about ten miles east of Mos Espa. The skimmer did its job, it resembles perhaps a smaller rendition of the complementary hovercraft that comes with a sail barge. Through his binoculars, Frelik spotted a cluster of brown speckles in the sand—a Bantha herd, he had found. Their quarry.

“Drello, full speed ahead!” cried out the tan-skinned Twi’lek to the human male. The boy cranked the lever of the motor and they pulled forward.

They stopped their skimmer in a safe distance, atop a small hill that overlooks the Banthas gathered around a watering hole—a rare sight in this planet. After peering through the lens, Frelik handed the binoculars to no one in particular, Irele took it out of his hands.

“Those aren’t domesticated, alright,” she panned slightly to her right. “We can slide our way down there. We’ll have enough cover so they won’t be startled by us.”

Before they got themselves on the move, Irele scanned the area for any signs of Tusken Raiders. It was not uncommon to have a run-in with Tuskens who were also trying to wrangle up mounts for their numbers; should that happen, the most logical—and only—move is to try your luck for another herd. A group of adult Tuskens versus a small band of children are in no good odds whatsoever.

“We’re clear. We’re the only ones here,” she reassured then returned the binoculars to Frelik. They sprinted back to the skimmer to retrieve their sleds and boards.

“I’m gonna ruin your win streak today, Irele!” prided Drello.

She clapped back after pulling her goggles down and smirked, “We’ll see about that!”

The children ran to the edge of the slope, the Twi’lek siblings shared a sled, Heeda—the other human female besides Irele—had her own sled that can only fit her. Golden blonde and sandy brown tinted the girl’s hair, and a bright-eyed face that proves her to be the youngest of the group, being only a year behind Irele.

A trail of sand plumed as they zipped down. It was a collective skill for them to resist squealing and cheering in delight as they slide down a two- to three-mile long sand slide. Irele and Drello surfed with a quiet confidence in the middle of this friendly competition between the two of them; sweving and leaving snake-trails along the sand, as one overtook the other.

Show off! Said each teenager in their heads, referring to the other.

Only a few meters remain before the group lands on flat grounds. They hopped out of their rides and hurried behind the rocks.

“I thought you were gonna beat my streak, Drello?” jeered Irele.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever!” the boy chide, and the girl snickered under her breath.

Another cautionary look through the lens before they approach the herd and then they scrambled to their positions. For every job they took together, there was always a harmony amongst them, a testament to their three to four years of friendship forged by their odd job life.

As always, Irele was in charge of the actual wrangling—along with Drello and Frelik. The two other girls’ jobs were to tranquilize the animals should any of them escape or refuse to be mounted.

The three vaulted over the rocks, leaving Heeda and Venee—Frelik’s sister—behind. Producing ropes out of their packs as they prowled quietly in the Banthas’ blind spots. Given the beast’s width, the children are practically invisible if they stay directly behind them. They became slower when they crept slower, the ropes primed into a lasso. In all their years in practice of this dangerous trade, they’ve mastered how to cleanly hoop the rope around the Bantha’s thick, spiraling horns.

A solid tug indicated that their ropes have rung around the base of the horns, they jumped onto the giants’ backs. Drello’s Bantha bucked its massive head, attempting to wriggle the rope off. Unfortunately, the boy had caught perhaps a more aggressive one than the rest of the herd; and to add insult to injury, his ropes have tangled around his leg and a few strands of the Bantha’s fur caught along with it.

“Drello, hold on!”

“Irele!” Drello yelped. “HELP!”

“Stay still!”

Seeing the trouble from their post, Heeda and Venee primed their dart guns.

“Wait for my signal, Heeda,” Venee warned. Fives seconds when they saw a clear shot, “Now!”

Two darts charged with a strong dosage of tranquilizer pierced their way through the Bantha’s curtain of fur and thick hide. The girth of the needle was thick enough to penetrate the animal’s skin. Drello’s Bantha seemed to have slowed down and the boy finally won some control over the beast.

“Troublemaker, are ya?! I’ll sell you to the first butcher I see in town!” grumbled a vexed Drello.

“Aw come on, don’t be like that!”

“What? He was the one who tried to buck me off while my leg’s caught in the rope,”

“Maybe he doesn’t like you,” Frelik suggested jokingly and the rest of the children giggled in agreement.

For the Banthas who didn’t put up much of a fight and were tamer, Irele suggested strapping their skimmer to the beasts.

“Since they got ropes around their horns anyway, we can just tie the other end on the winch!” she suggested, and everyone loved the fun idea.

There were no objections from her friends. In fact, they were all in on it! Heeda and Venee wanted to the ride bareback on the Bantha while the other three would sit in the skimmer. All five teenagers giggled in excitement and delight as their idea is about to be put into play, until Irele’s smile vanished, she flinched when she felt a needle prick the back of her shoulder.

“This is PG-957, target has been found and marked.” a sinister, muffled voice spoke through his comlink gauntlet.

No one noticed the tiny dart that had landed in her shoulder, but she easily swatted it off like it was some kind of debris. Little did she know that the tiny bullet that hit her packed such a punch. In her easterly side, she saw two distant figures calling out to her. The first figure waved a piece of cloth to get her attention, the second cupped their mouth with their hands to amplify their voice.

Irele!! Come quick!

“Hey, Irele, what’s wrong?” Frelik asked as he noticed his friend has suddenly gotten quiet.

“Smoke?” she muttered under her breath.

She squinted her eyes, sheltered her head with her scarf and confirmed that a pillar of smoke was in the distance as the Banthas pulled their skimmer.

“Do you see that?” she asked to no one in particular.

“See what?”

“That! That column of smoke over there!”

Frelik and Drello exchanged confused glances, and then back to Irele who had her back turned to them.

She squinted again, the two figures appeared to have gotten closer to where they are, and she could hear their voices.

IRELE, HURRY, IT’S YOUR FAMILY!!

“My home!” she bursts.

“Whoa, hey, Irele, where are you going!?” Drello tried to stop her by grabbing her sleeve but she slipped away.

Irele literally jumped out of a moving skimmer, taking her things with her as well.

“Irele, hey! Come back!” Heeda screeched.

“Where is she going!?” Venee exclaimed.

“There’s nothing over there!” Frelik insisted to his friend as he—along with his companions—watched her sprint into the distant nothingness.

Irele sprinted as fast as she could, those two figures materialized into a pair of older human males. Her friends literally lost her in the desert just when they were about to make their way back to Mos Espa, where they client awaits.

“I can’t see her anymore! Frelik, can you!?”

The Twi’lek growled in frustration, “No, she went straight into the storm!”

“Is she crazy!?” his sister protested.

“We have to go after her!” Heedra insisted.

“We’re not equipped for a sandstorm, Heeda, we can’t turn around. We have to get back to town and get shelter!” Drello argued.

They have no choice. They continued in their original path but they wordlessly promised that they’d come back for her.

Irele followed the direction of the smoke, knowing that it’s coming from the homestead. The adrenaline made her forget the aching of her legs, exhausted from running. She cared not if her friends didn’t believe her, her vision narrowed to the direction of her house. She didn’t even notice that the two males she followed were out of her sight.

The tower of black smoke got bigger as she closed the distance further. At the top of her parched lungs, she cried out for her family.

“OWEN!! BERU!!” she screeched.

She caught sight of her homestead in flames—or so she thinks—the dirty white dome of her house was charred black, a gaping hole put into the front door, the machines in their rotunda had been blown up, and tattered rags scattered across the front of the house.

“No…” she gasped. “NO!! OWEN! BERU! WHERE ARE YOU!?”

She repeated these three names, but an answer did not come.

Irele… a voice called to her.

“Owen!?”

Irele… do not fight it. It instructed her. It was a deep, ominous voice, and after the last word, a sharp robotic breath followed.

She recognizes that voice anywhere. She’s heard it in her nightmares, during the nights where she cannot sleep.

“No… No… Bring them back!” she cried.

She did not know it was an illusion. The sniper who had planted the needle into her flesh had followed the girl aimlessly going into an incoming sandstorm.

Poor Irele spun around in a panic, thinking that she was standing in the premises of her home, when in fact that she was standing in the first few inches of the storm. It was all a blur in her eyes, but she persisted looking for her family. The sniper, a trooper with a unique black armor, watched the poor girl spin until she got dizzy and weak.

Meanwhile, Darth Vader remained unmoving in his meditation chamber, dead center in the black, cold floor. He could hear Irele’s cries, her screaming of Owen and Beru’s names, and he could feel the hot, prickling wind that swats her face. The leather of his gloves squeaked as he tightened his already-closed fists.

Irele…

“No…” she exhaled one last time. “Bring them… back…”

“Target incapacitated. Requesting transport.” The trooper reported and was answered by an incoming transport craft to retrieve the trooper and a knocked out Irele.

–

The storm had eventually died down, but the teenagers’ anxiety did not.

Once they’ve gotten rid of the Banthas, they instantly hopped back on their skimmer and retraced their steps to the location where they lost Irele.

The sandstorm had erased her tracks, but they followed the direction where she aimlessly ran to.

Frelik heavily relied on his binoculars to find any sign of Irele. They had gotten far enough from the path they took when the Banthas pulled their skimmer. Drello may not be the most skilled wrangler, but he was a good tracker.

“We were here when she started talking funny, saying that she sees smoke when there’s nothing at all,” Drello pointed out the subtle indents of their skimmer and the Banthas’ hooves. He then angled his body to his easterly side, mimicking Irele’s position before she ran off. “And then she ran off there.”

“It’s strange,” Frelik added. “I heard her say the word ‘Home’ before she ran… but her house is in that direction.”

“Maybe the heat got to her?” Heeda theorized.

Frelik shook his head, “We didn’t even stay out that long, Heeda.”

“Come on, talking will take us nowhere!” Venee grunted. “Drello, what can you take from here?”

“We go to that direction,”

The skimmer hovered in a steady, leisurely pace; they were careful not to miss anything. The wind picked up as they got farther, a minor aftermath of the sandstorm in the middle of its calm; on his right, Frelik spotted something fluttering in the distance.

“Look! Drello turn us over there,”

Drello went straight ahead for that fluttering brown shape in the wind. Heeda picked it up and they all gathered around it.

“This is Irele’s scarf,” Venee mumbled pessimistically

“Then she must be close!” Heeda’s hopefulness contrasted the Twi’lek girl’s mood.

With only her lost scarf as a clue, it took the group all day trying to find her. The sunset beckoned them to stop. It never crossed their mind that they have to tell this to Owen and Beru, and they were scrambling over on what to tell them, how to say and explain it all, and that they’ll witness firsthand the wrath of Owen Lars—as well as his grief.

Reluctant, they drove their skimmer to the Lars homestead, with only a piece of Irele to bring home to her family. Up to now, not one of them have decided who will speak to Owen—neither do they have the courage to walk up to the front door.

They agreed that they go together, however, they hesitate to come an inch closer.

Eventually, Owen appeared out of the door.

“Oh, good thing you kids are back before dark.”

Silence from the children. Drello clutched onto Irele’s scarf so hard that it creased.

Owen’s eyes shifted left to right, counting in his mind, and it hit him.

“Where’s Irele?”

The teenagers flinched—shoulders flinched, sweaty fists clenched tighter, and knees were knocking.

Owen repeated the question until he spotted the scarf crumpled up into a ball.

“That’s Irele’s,” he pointed weakly at it. “Where is she!?”

“We… We’re sorry, but we lost her…”

“Lost her? Lost her!? Lost her how?!”

The raising of Owen’s voice attracted Beru—carrying Luke—to go outside. She finds Irele’s group being confronted by her husband.

“Owen, what’s going on here?”

“Irele didn’t come with them.”

“What?!” Beru gasped, her brown eyes widened.

Venee stepped forward, “We were on our way back, honest! But she started acting strange. She looked distraught about your house, she said she spotted smoke coming from here but…”

“What smoke? We were perfectly fine here all day!” Owen interrupted.

The Twi’lek girl continued, alternately looking to her friends. They vouched her every word with nervous yet truthful nods.

“That’s the thing, sir. What’s worse is… she ran into an incoming sandstorm. That’s when we lost her.”

Heeda stepped in Venee’s side, “It’s true what Venee said. We tried to look for her when the storm passed, honest! We just didn’t want to stay until dark because of the Tuskens.”

“We’re sorry,” Frelik said sadly and with a misplaced guilt. “But this is what we can only find of her.”

Drello unfurled the scarf and held it in both hands, presenting it to Irele’s brother. The young boy stepped forward to hand it over to the man who was hesitant to take it from his hands. Unable to accept that this was a rhyme to the fate of his late stepmother.

“No…” Owen’s rage melted into grief and distress. His heart wrenched. “Oh no…”

“Owen…”

Luke tugged the collar of Beru’s jacket and quietly asked, “Aunt Beru, where’s Irele?”

Unable to grasp how Irele’s friends had lost her, neither can Beru explain it to her nephew-in-law.

“Irele’s… Irele won’t be home for a while, dear.”

“Why?”

At a loss, Beru gave up looking for answers, there were no right ones after all.

“I don’t know, darling, I don’t know…”

As soon as Irele’s scarf came to Owen’s hands, he did not care anymore who would see him break down to tears. His knees melted, his back arched as he embraced a remnant of his dear sister—his remaining closest kin next to Luke—as he was fueled by the burning determination to find her.

Even if it meant he will have to repeat his father’s steps in finding Shmi all those years ago, then he would do the same for Irele. But for this night, the dunes heard his sobs and buried them underneath each and every grain of sand.

The next few days seemed desperate and hopeless. Owen had called up every men who were willing to come with him in search of Irele, her friends joined in as well. By the day, their numbers thinned out—majority giving up on the search as they could not find any other relevant leads except the scarf and the girl’s last known position.

“Give it a rest, Owen! The girl’s probably lost, or worse, fallen into a Sarlacc pit while in a heatstroke daze.”

“DON’T YOU DARE SAY THAT ABOUT MY SISTER!” Owen swung with a finger pointed at the man who claimed such an assumption.

Knowing that this was not worth his time and energy anymore, the scout gave up and turned tail. Owen originally rounded up at least fifty men scattered across the outskirts of the major towns, even as far as the Dune Sea; though little by little, they all gave up on the search as well as Owen himself. Some with a heart apologized and wished him luck in finding the teenage girl.

“Oh, Irele…” Owen huffed, exhausted. “Where are you…?”

He was forced to stop the search just a few hours before sunset. He sent her friends home earlier. Upon returning to the house, he watched as Beru quickly walked out of the kitchen with a hopeful face—only for that hopefulness to fade away when she saw that her husband arrived alone.

She awkwardly dismissed herself and returned to the kitchen. Leaving Luke playing with a toy cruiser and shuttle on the table. Owen sat across him, the boy continued playing and reentered the little world he’s created with his ships, accompanied by little scaled figurines carved out of painted wood.

And from that day forward, something in Owen changed. In the following years, he would have grown old and sterner especially towards the remaining youngest family member—his nephew. Never mind if Luke would resent Owen’s ways in disciplining him or keeping him grounded, if it meant keeping him safe and preventing the same fate to happen to the boy, then he would do it.

He cannot afford to lose another part of his family.

[theskyeandsea]

Safe Harbor || Shiloh & Skylar

Location: White Crest Zoo & Aquarium, but specifically the Aquarium

Notes: Skylar and Shiloh go on their first date since the disastrous lobster beach party and Skylar decides to take a leap of faith.

Shiloh knew she was cutting it a little close - of course work dragged on longer than it should have, she knew she never ended at a certain time. But she wouldn’t be late for their date. Neither would she arrive stinking of a day’s work. Ew. So as soon as she got home she headed for the shower and just as soon as she finished she was out the door, hair still wet, but not caring because she needed to be there at a reasonable time. She’d only give herself 15 minutes and that was it. Anything more was unacceptable. Shiloh had never gone to the aquarium or the zoo so she had to look it up and drive there which ate into her time as she figured out how to get there. Still, once she arrived, she was ready - happy, to see Skylar again. It’d been a while and she was waiting for Skylar to bring up a date (which was stupid she should have said something). Either way, she headed for the aquarium exhibit, hoping she’d spot Skylar in the Saturday crowd. Lo and behold, she did. It was almost as if her eyes knew where to look. She spotted her standing by the entrance and Shiloh felt relieved at the sight of seeing her. She made sure to walk into her line of sight, which proved to be difficult with a light crowd lingering in the front. Once they caught eyes, she signed as well as said, “Hi, Skylar!” She rushed to close  the distance between them. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting long, sorry.”

Skylar’s fingers tapped nervously against her thigh, signing Calm and relax to herself rapidly, as thought signing it would make it real. But, her heart was pounding, her stomach was worked up in knots, and her hands were getting covered in stupid slime. Again. Ugh. Sticking her hands into the pockets of her jacket, she did her best to discreetly wipe them clean. The fact that this wasn’t just a date, but… that she was really considering telling Shiloh about herself? She grimaced slightly. What would she think? Would she think she was a monster? Glancing up, Skylar caught sight of Shiloh making her way towards her. Waving at the other woman, a smile slowly spread across her face. When their eyes met, some of the tension in her shoulders eased. As nerve-wracking as the whole prospect of their date, of telling Shiloh the truth was… Skylar was startled by how much she had missed seeing her. It had been weeks since their disastrous date. But now, here she was. And signing too? Shaking her head, Skylar replied, “No, you’re fine, I just got here ten minutes ago. Just enough time to buy tickets.” She said, pulling out the two passes from her jeans pocket. “Work run late?” Skylar asked as the two joined the line to enter the aquarium.

“Oh, you didn’t have to do that.” Shiloh said, her voice softening. “Thank you. Next one’s on me?” She asked, looking over at Skylar, eyes hopeful. Not that she minded Skylar paying for it, but she wanted to be equal - Shiloh could very much cover herself. However, she knew it was rude to push that so she just wanted to show she appreciated it. She looked down, wanting to reach for Skylar’s hand but it was in her pocket and the other holding the tickets so she just kept hers at her side. “It took us a little longer to finish panelling a client’s floor but it’s fine.” Shiloh waved her hand, very much wanting to leave work at work and focus on Skylar and the aquarium. “I haven’t been to an aquarium in years. I’m a little excited.” By little she meant very. It felt safe, despite it featuring marine life and Shiloh not wanting to step foot on that beach again. There were plenty of people, families. Nothing happened in a big crowd, right? Shiloh closed her eyes for a beat longer, wanting to gather her anxieties. What’s the worst that could happen? Another large lobster? What will most likely happen? Her and Skye would have another great date only this time with a nice end to it. She smiled and looked over at Skylar as they entered.

Shrugging, Skylar merely smiled. “It’s okay, honest. I suggested the aquarium after all. And, I kind of wanted to make up for how the last one ended…” She said, her voice trailing off at the memory of that night. Seeing her friends fighting giant lobsters, the awful curse that had fallen over her when she’d bumped into the chest, the fear-- nope! No, she wasn’t going to think about that. Swallowing, Skylar focused on Shiloh’s words instead. “Mhm, well, hopefully the rest of the repairs go smoothly!” She said, taking the hint when the woman waved her hand at the subject. She couldn’t blame her for not wanting to talk about work; it seemed like she had a lot on her plate, now that everyone was certain the fish rain wouldn’t come back. “Same here, honestly. I think the last time I went to one I was… oh, probably back in 7th grade? It was for a school trip.” She said with a nod. Handing their tickets to the attendant, Skylar smiled back at Shiloh and tentatively reached out to hold her hand, lacing their fingers together. “It looks like there’s a lot of cool animals here-- there’s a penguin exhibit, a stingray pool, sharks… and a crocodile?” She said, gesturing to the map that was displayed by the entrance.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Shiloh didn’t want to talk about the beach event (especially in public) but she wanted it to be clear Shiloh didn’t blame Skye for anything. “I will say, just agreeing to meet up for another date more than makes up for anything that happened.” She reassured, not wanting Skye to feel terrible over what occurred weeks ago. It was time to move on. At least for Shiloh. Her subconscious might take a bit to catch up with that but it’ll happen. Eventually. “A school trip to the aquarium? That sounds like so fun. I haven’t been to one since I was a kid either. I barely remember it but I’m happy to make a new aquarium memory with you.” Shiloh internally winced, wondering if that came off as lame but Skylar’s touch was comforting. Far more than she probably realized. Shiloh leaned into her, brushing shoulders as she looked at the map. “We have to go to the penguin exhibit.” Shiloh said trying to downplay her excitement at the idea of seeing penguins in person. “They’re so cute.” She squeezed Skylar’s hand in excitement. 

A pang of guilt struck Skylar at her words. Maybe she didn’t cause the chest, maybe she wasn’t responsible for the lobsters. But… she was part of this craziness. The seal skin tucked under her bed was more than proof of that. And, Shiloh was roped into it too. Nodding, she glanced over at one of the smaller tanks, pretending to be interested in the small little fish hiding in their enclosure. She couldn’t bare to look Shiloh in the eyes, not when they were talking about this. As the topic transitioned away from the beach, Skylar smiled a bit, her cheeks reddening at Shiloh’s last words. “Mmm, I am too.” She said, squeezing her hand gently. Looking closer at the map, Skylar nodded, “Yeah, the penguins sound like a fun time. I wonder which kind they have… the ones with the little yellow eyebrows always kinda look silly.” She said. As she stared at the map, her stomach lurched as her eyes fell on a specific section of the aquarium. Harbor seals… shit.

“The yellow eyebrows?” Shiloh repeated as she tried to picture it in her mind. And then it came to her and she let out a laugh. “Oh my god, I hope they do. Have you ever seen Happy Feet? That movie is so cute. Those kinds of penguins come out in it.” She can’t remember what they’re called though. The only one that came to mind was Emperor Penguin but she’s sure that’s what the normal looking ones are called. She glanced back at the map. “Oh look they have seals too, how cool.” She pointed at it before dropping her hand and looking over at Skylar. “They seem to have everything in this aquarium. Can we go see the penguins first?” Not that the general fish in the aquarium weren’t interesting to see, but penguins were cute. Who didn’t want to go see some penguins if given the chance?

“Yeah, the ones that kinda look like Guy Fieri,” Skylar said with a laugh. Poor penguins didn’t even realize they looked like a walking meme. “I think I saw it when I was really little once, but I didn’t like it as much as I liked Finding Nemo.” When Shiloh pointed out the seal exhibit, Skylar felt a bead of slime begin to form on her forehead and she hurried to wipe it away with her free hand. “Mhm, neat!” She said, trying to play off the motion as brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Penguins sound great to me, let’s go.” She said, leading Shiloh further into the aquarium. The backlit tanks of fish and small aquatic animals cast blue hues across the room, bathing them in soft light. Skylar cast a quick glance over at the woman next to her. In this light, with the blue glow, Shiloh just looked so… out of her league. Mmm. Quickly shifting her gaze, she pointed at one of the nearby tanks, “Aww. Look at that little starfish sticking to the glass.”

“Guy Fieri?” A slow smile spread on Shiloh’s face as she started to laugh once more, the similarity not having been one she noticed before. “They are the Guy Fieri of penguins!” They were cute though, albeit weird looking. “I liked Happy Feet, it took a turn from being a cute children’s movie to the effects of overfishing and things like that. I also liked this one called the Pebble and the Penguin? It was really cute.” After those two though the only penguins she could think of were the ones from Madagascar and those weren’t that cute. As she was distracted by her own thoughts she looked over at where Skylar pointed walking towards it. “Oh, how cute.” She smiled down, pressing her finger against the glass. “Do you remember that one scene in Finding Nemo where the little girl is tapping at the glass and all the fish hate the sound?” She glanced over at Skylar, pulling back her finger. “I never tapped on a fish tank after I saw that. Not that I really did that before. It just stuck with me.”

The way Shiloh’s face lit up at her joke put Skylar slightly more at ease, her own smile returning. “Mhm, that’s true. It’s cool how the writers were able to make it more than just a fun kids movie. The Pebble and the Penguin? I’ve never heard of that one.” She said, curious. It was cute, hearing Shiloh’s excitement. If she liked penguins this much, Skylar wondered how she’d react if they went to the zoo and saw the tigers there. If… If they had another date. Which, if she went through with this, there was no guarantee that she would even want anything to do with Skylar, let alone another date. “Oh for sure. I always felt really bad for the fish after seeing that.” She said as she looked at the little starfish. A few smaller fish were hiding in the background, their heads poking out curiously from the rocks. “I wonder what it’s like to be a fish in an aquarium,” She remarked as they continued their way through the hallway, “All these new people coming by and staring at you. Mm. Must be weird.”

“It’s a real old one.” Shiloh added, feeling maybe her older age was showing with that one. “The Pebble and the Penguin is about an awkward penguin wanting to court the pretty penguin and they find a really nice pebble for her and in trying to give it to her a mean penguin keeps thwarting his attempts because he wants the pretty penguin too.” Shiloh gave a small laugh at her explanation. “I haven’t seen it in years I’m sure there’s more to it than that but that’s pretty much it.” She shrugged, hoping Skylar didn’t judge it based on her terrible plot explanation. “Can the fish see us?” Shiloh asked keeping her eyes on the moving fish as they continued walking. “I don’t know how fish tanks work, I always wondered what they see on their end. I agree though, it must be pretty weird to see all these people coming and going. Maybe they think we’re fish too. Just swimming by.” As she turned away from the fish and looked to Skye, she sucked in her cheeks to make a fish face, unable to hold it for long as she turned away and laughed.

Listening to Shiloh’s recounting of the movie, Skylar could feel her shoulders relaxing once more, the slickness on the back of her neck fading away a bit. “That sounds cute. Does the awkward penguin get the girl in the end?” She asked. She would have to look it up later-- a part of her could definitely related to feeling like an awkward penguin. A pretty large part, actually. Ack. “We’d be some pretty weird looking fish--” Skylar caught sight of Shiloh’s face and burst out laughing, covering her mouth with her free hand. “I take that back, if we just make that face, they won’t know the difference between us and them.” She teased, shaking her head, beaming all the same.

“Yeah! The awkward penguin always gets the girl.” Shiloh explained with a smile despite not remembering specifically if it happened but she knew that it had to have happened. It was a children’s movie… maybe she’ll have to look it up. Shiloh was pleased with herself after she made Skylar laugh, leaning forward to see her face better. She really couldn’t believe how cute Skylar was. “Oh yeah? Was it a good impression?” Shiloh giggled as she wrinkled her nose, not wanting to imagine how she looked making that face but if it made Skylar laugh, she’d do it all over again. She heard the sounds of the penguins before she saw them and looked up. Already there were some people gathered around, but she managed to find a spot for the two of them to watch. “Look at them waddle!”

“It was a very good impression, yup. Very fishy.” Skylar nodded, making the sign for “fish” as she spoke. It was a little wiggling motion with a flat hand, nothing too fancy. As the other woman led her onwards, pace a little quicker, she realized that Shiloh must have heard something she hadn’t. Was there something wrong with her hearing aids? Was she just not picking up everything-- as they neared the exhibit and the squawking of penguins filtered in, she understood what must have happened. The sound probably carried down the hall and got lost in all the other noises she’d been picking up. Somehow, Shiloh managed to find a spot for them among the crowd, nice and close to the glass. “Awww. They’re so cute.” She said, the other woman’s enthusiasm catching. Peering through the glass, she pointed at one of the penguins flapping its wings energetically. “I wonder if that one’s trying to fly or something.”

Shiloh chuckled at the sight of a penguin flapping its wings. “Definitely trying to fly. Although I imagine they have it pretty good here at the aquarium, yeah?” She looked over at Skylar. “At least I’d hope so.” She was sure she read somewhere that most of the animals in zoos are either rescued as illegal pets or are unable to return to the wild. She continued to watch the penguins waddle and smiled at the sight of one of them sliding on their belly. “I wonder what it’s like to just stop walking and decide oh it’ll be faster if I just slide.” She smiled as she looked up at Skylar. “Do you think they get tired or lazy and would rather just slide everywhere? I imagine it’s kind of fun? Let physics do its thing.”

“Oh, definitely. They get to hang out with their friends, they get food, and they get lots of attention. It sounds like a fun life.” Skylar said with a nod, watching as the penguin began to preen its feathers. Catching sight of the little penguin that started sliding around, she started to laugh, but it caught in the back of her throat at Shiloh’s words. Mmmmmmm. Not that she’d ever slid around on her stomach as a seal; she’d never done anything like that. She’d never even… changed outside of the bathtub. “It looks kinda fun, yeah.” She grinned, hoping it didn’t seem to forced. She could feel her hands growing slick again, dread welling up in the pit of her stomach. This… she needed to tell Shiloh. She had to just, get it out in the open. God, she just hoped that Shiloh didn’t hate her after this.

Shiloh kept her eyes on the penguin as her and Skye walked around. “Bye, penguins,” she said once they moved along. As they kept walking Shiloh felt Skye’s hand grow a little damp and she glanced up, catching Skylar’s face grow blue as they went through the aquarium again. “Hey, Skye?” Shiloh called out to her, slowly down to a stop. She squeezed her hand. “Hey, uh, can I kiss you?” It was awkward to ask for a kiss and yet she felt she needed to, unsure if Skylar would even be up for a kiss. Not to mention she looked a bit lost in her thoughts previously and who knows how a surprise kiss would have gone. Shiloh figured she could learn that out at a later time. Either way she felt her cheeks redden as she grew a bit self-conscious waiting for Skylar’s response. 

Maybe Remmy was right. Maybe there was never going to be a right time to talk about this. Maybe she just needed to get it out in the open, just put it out there and see what would happen. Because then she would know-- she’d know for sure where they stood and if… if she was just kidding herself with this. Skylar was so wrapped up in her own thoughts that she didn’t realize that they’d slowed to a stop until Shiloh squeezed her hand gently. Blinking, Skylar felt her neck burn with embarrassment; she’d been so wrapped up in her own worries, she’d… oh no. She’d made this weird, hadn’t she? With a nod, Skylar glanced down quickly before meeting Shiloh’s gaze, “Mhm. You don’t-- you don’t need to ask me every time, you know. I… I really like you.” She said quietly before leaning forward to kiss Shiloh, capturing the other woman’s lips with her own in a gentle embrace. 

“I was just trying to be polite,” Shiloh spoke with a smile as Skylar leaned forward, her smile melting into the kiss. Shiloh had no desire to pull back, her eyes fluttering shut once their lips met. However, the middle of the aquarium wasn’t the most ideal spot for a make out. Shiloh wasn’t really one to kiss someone so heavily in a public space anyway. So, she pulled back, her smile returning. “I hope you know I really like you too.” Despite the craziness that was their last date, Shiloh truly liked Skylar and enjoyed spending time with her. She wanted to get to know her better, learn all she could. However, there was some hesitation. It made Shiloh second guess herself in situations she wouldn’t have before. It was different and Shiloh wasn’t sure why. Shiloh took Skylar’s hand once more, stepping aside so they could keep walking. “So, I have permission to kiss you whenever I want?” Shiloh asked with a sly smile.

Shiloh’s lips were soft against her own, in a brief but sweet kiss. Skylar felt her cheeks darken as she realized that she’d just kissed her in a very public setting. She was-- she hoped that there wasn’t anything wrong with that. But, the way Shiloh looked at her put her at ease and she couldn’t help but offer a soft smile in return. Her heart was still pounding, but the feelings of anxiety had faded some at the other woman’s words. “I’m glad to hear that. It’s honestly a bit of a relief.” Shiloh liked her too, but would that... would those feelings be enough? Could Shiloh look past the fact that she was a Selkie, could she do something that Skylar couldn’t even manage? As they continued down the hall, Skylar bit her lip, embarrassed. “Mhm. You do indeed.”

Shiloh realized they were both equally relieved the feeling was mutual. She smiled, giving a small laugh at how silly that was. She needed to make her feelings clear so that Skylar wouldn’t have any doubts as to whether or not she liked her. In turn, maybe Shiloh would be reassured as well in the process. She hadn’t expected Skylar to agree to that and actually felt her face heat up. “Oh! Okay. Great.” They had just finished kissing though and Shiloh already wanted to kiss her again. Best to spread that sort of thing out. Probably. At least that’s what she was going to tell herself. “So what’s coming up next?” Shiloh asked, forgetting how the map looked… once again she wasn’t really good at navigating herself.

With a quiet laugh at Shiloh’s slightly flustered expression, Skylar leaned in and kissed her quickly on the cheek before continuing their walk further into the aquarium. She could do this, she could just… get it out there in the open. She had to. All she needed was just, a quiet moment, away from other people. And then… hopefully it would be okay. Hopefully it would all be okay. “Mm, I think it was--” As they turned the corner, Skylar’s stomach lurched and she found herself staring at a set of large, dark eyes that peered curiously through the glass, flippers tucked in at its sides. A large harbor seal stared back at her before flitting back up to the surface of the large tank. “Seals. The seal exhibit, mhm.” She said with a slightly tense smile. God, she hoped that Shiloh didn’t notice.

Shiloh squeezed Skylar’s hand as she got a kiss on the cheek, unable to say anything as her cheeks reddened. That wasn’t fair! But she really liked it nonetheless. As they neared the next exhibit Shiloh looked and waited to hear from it. “Oh, seals!” She lightly pulled at Skylar’s hand as she walked faster. “They’re so cute.” Shiloh cooed as she watched some of them lounge above water and some swimming about. Dropping Skylar’s hand, Shiloh squatted as one of them swam by the glass. “Oooh.” She’d never seen any this close before. “Those are some thicc boys.” Shiloh said with a laugh as she got back up and looked over to Skylar, wondering if she had heard her.

Skylar was glad that Shiloh pulled away, because her hands were now covered in a thick sheen of slime. She shoved her hands in her pockets, doing her best to wipe the gunk off her skin and just pretend that she was fine, that this was fine. Watching as Shiloh peered through the glass, Skylar caught sight of the three seals in the tank, all of them swimming around rather lazily in the water. One of them was rolling around, doing bored barrel rolls in the tank. “Mm. There are actually two girls and a boy.” She said without thinking, pointing to the bored barrel roll boy in question. Wait… how did she know that? Skylar cleared her throat and gestured to the little information plaque next to the tank. “They’ve got pictures next to the tank of them.” She said with a weak smile. 

“Oh really?” Shiloh looked over at Skylar about to ask how she knew that, wondering if Skylar just knew about seals. However, she mentioned the plaque and walked over to it. “They look so cute in their pictures. I wonder if they know any tricks.” Not that she wanted to see animals exploited for entertainment but she knew they must know how to do something so the zoo veterinarians can inspect them up close. “Oh, they do a feeding in like an hour. Do you want to come back and see?” She turned around at Skylar who just seemed the slightest bit uncomfortable. Shiloh assumed it was still date jitters and smiled coming up next to her, looping her arm around Skylar’s and leaning her head against her as she just stood and watched the seals, not saying anything just providing comfort in a way Shiloh would like. Of course Shiloh enjoyed verbal comfort as well but this was about Skye. Shiloh was still learning how she liked to be comforted.

Blinking, Skylar stared at the seals-- there wasn’t anything specific she could point out that told her the seals were what they were. Was it like… the way their snouts were? Or how they interacted in the water? But, she had the distinct impression that they were siblings. Looking over at the plaque more closely, her odd hunch was confirmed. Three orphaned seal pups that had been rescued and rehomed in the White Crest aquarium. “Mmm. Maybe.” She answered, still lost in her head as she stared at the seals. Were these actually seals? They didn’t seem to be staring at her any more than anyone else who was passing by. When Shiloh stood closer to her, putting her head on her shoulder, Skylar bit the inside of her cheek, her hands balling up in the pockets of her jacket. “Do you mind if we sit down for a second?” She asked, tilting her head to a bench not far away. It was slightly off the beaten path, out of earshot from passersby. Skylar had to tell her, she had to tell her.

Shiloh picked her head up, looking over at the bench. “Oh yeah sure.” She said and started to walk over to sit down. Maybe Skylar had gotten tired of walking around. She’d understand that. She herself was feeling a little big hungry now that she thought about it. She’d only eaten lunch at work and then rushed home to change and head to the aquarium. Maybe there was somewhere to eat in the area and they could go there after. Hopefully a rumbly tummy wouldn’t ruin the mood of the date. She doubted that but it would have still been embarrassing. Shiloh sat down, actually finding comfort in it, maybe she was more tired from work than she thought but she was happy to sit down. She let out a soft sigh and leaned against the wall the bench was against.

As they settled on the bench, Skylar took a deep breath, her hands tapping against the top of her thighs nervously. She just had to do this, she had to rip the bandaid off and tell her. “I…” Swallowing past the lump that had formed in the back of her throat, Skylar focused on the tops of her shoes. It was easier than looking at Shiloh or at the seals that were still flitting around in the tank in front of them. “I need to tell you something. And-- I don’t blame you if this freaks you out, it freaked me out when I first heard it too. But, I… I really care about you and I just need to tell you.” Glancing over at Shiloh, her fingers fidgeted nervously. “Just please, please let me explain.” Or, at least, let her try to explain any of the craziness that had become her life. 

Shiloh looked up as soon as Skylar began to speak. Her brows furrowed as the conversation seemed to be serious and she worried about what it might be. “Okay,” Shiloh began with a nod, hoping Skylar was okay. Was she in danger? Was something after her? Shiloh felt a swell of protectiveness stirr inside her at the thought and she leaned forward, scooted forward. “Just tell me, it’s okay.” She reassured Skye, not wanting her to be scared or think Shiloh would freak out. Shiloh hadn’t really freaked out in front of her so Shiloh was sure Skylar would remember that. She wasn’t someone to freak out. At least not visibly. In an attempt to comfort, she reached out for Skylar’s hand. Whatever it was, Shiloh was sure she’d be here to help her in whatever way she needed. Shiloh remained quiet, leaving Skylar room to speak. 

Deep breath in. Deep breathe out. Just tell her. Just tell her, just spit it out and tell her. Skylar turned to look at Shiloh, forcing herself to look the other woman in the eyes. “I’m not... human. I’m a Selkie.” As she said the words, Skylar was dimly aware that this was the first time she’d told someone, in person, that she wasn’t normal. “I-- I didn’t know until about a month and a half ago. My parents, they never told me what I was, they never told me anything. It wasn’t until I moved here and all of this supernatural stuff started happening did R--” Shutting her mouth, Skylar quickly corrected herself, “I realize that I was a part of this. Being a selkie means that…” She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, trying to steady herself in spite of her pounding heart, “I turn into a seal.”

Shiloh listened to everything she said. Even when she started it off with not being human. Of course Shiloh was surprised but she still made sure she listened to everything she said. How Skylar had only just known for a while, how she had no clue she was different until she moved here. Shiloh wondered what that must be like. To not have any clue and then have it all fall into your lap. Relieving? Stressful? Probably a bit of both. At the mention of seal she glanced over at the seals just swimming about. Skylar turned into that? She smiled and looked back to Skylar. “Thank you for telling me. I had no idea you weren’t human.” Shiloh didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing. “So a selkie is like a werewolf? You turn into an animal?” Shiloh tried to think about what she’s seen in pop culture about werewolves. She had so many questions to ask Skylar but wasn’t sure if it was the right time and didn’t want to overwhelm her. “That’s… incredible. You’re a selkie. Cool.” Shiloh didn’t feel negatively about learning all this information but she honestly wasn’t sure how she should feel? Excited? However a smile crept on her face as she remembered something. “Wait, so do you not know how to swim or were all those swimming lessons just a ruse to get closer to me?” Shiloh teased, not at all offended if it had been. Yet, it was doubtful, Skylar didn’t seem like the type, but how could a seal not know how to swim? She figured it should be something that just… happened, right?

Skylar wasn’t exactly sure what she had expected to happen when she told Shiloh. That was a large part of why it had all been so nerve wracking, the not knowing. And… she half expected Shiloh to get up and walk out on her, to say that she was some kind of… monster or an awful liar. Because that’s what she was. But, Shiloh was a good person, a better person than herself. Kinder, more understanding. “Mmm. Sort of. But, it’s not because of the moon or anything like that. I just… I have a skin? And when I put it on, I change.” She said with a nod. Cool wasn’t how she would describe it, not at all. Humming, Skylar stared at her lap. “I didn’t actually know how to swim. My parents, they didn’t know anything about this. They never took me to swim lessons.” She said, “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

Shiloh took a moment to think about that, wanting to be honest with Skylar. Was she okay with this? The supernatural world was unsettling but Skylar? She was comforting. In time, maybe the rest of the world would be too. “I don’t feel any different about you.” Shiloh made that clear, feeling it was important. She looked at Skylar and still felt her heart race at the thought of kissing her or just staring at her for too long. “I just have only dated humans before, so if you could be patient with me as I figure everything out?” Maybe it wasn’t right for Shiloh to even ask her for anything but she was being honest in that she needed some time to learn how the supernatural world worked. It was a lot but she was a part of this world, living in this town and now, going out with Skylar. “I want to know, Skye.” She said, scooting closer and taking one of her hands into hers. “If you’d let me, I’d love to know everything about you. Including this selkie stuff.” Shiloh didn’t know if leaning over to kiss her would be the right move so she just picked up her hand and kissed the back of it. “I mean it.”

She really didn’t feel any differently? A wave of relief washed over Skylar and she slumped backwards, leaning against the wall. Closing her eyes, she let out a sigh. She didn’t care that she was different. Or at least, it didn’t change her feelings. Skylar opened her eyes and looked at Shiloh with a weak grin, “Of course. And, in the interest of being honest… I haven’t dated anyone before. So maybe we can figure this out together?” She asked, hoping that the words didn’t sound too cliche, too clingy. Her cheeks darkened as Shiloh kissed the back of her hand and, for a moment, she didn’t know what to say. The sweetness of the gesture caught her off guard, surprised her. She hadn’t thought Shiloh would support her so wholeheartedly. “Okay. Just, maybe not right now. I think one big life changing revelation is enough for today.” She said with a quiet laugh, “And I feel the same way about you-- if that’s okay?”

“No one?” Shiloh had to lean back, caught off guard but then leaned back forward. “Yeah, let’s figure this whole thing out together. I’m here for you.” Shiloh realized she had a pretty big role to play for Skylar. She was her first. Why did that feel more stressful than finding out she was a selkie? “Whenever you’re ready, whenever you feel comfortable. I don’t want to rush things. So, thank you, really, for trusting this with me. I won’t - I won’t tell anyone. You’re safe with me.” She had learned about hunters and the thought of anyone coming after Skylar was enough to bring Shiloh back to the seriousness and dangers of the supernatural world. This beautiful, kind, sweet girl in front of her could turn into a seal. And there might be people out there who want to hurt her because of that. Shiloh cared about her - it didn’t matter what she was. “I’m really glad you feel the same way. Like really, really glad.” She let out a sigh. 

Shaking her head, Skylar shrugged. Dating just had never been on the table for her. High school, college… No one would ever be caught dead with the girl who couldn’t hear, or who was out sick every couple weeks. But, she didn’t need to explain all that to Shiloh, not right now. “Nope, no one. So, um, yeah. Just thought you should know that too.” She said, shutting her mouth before she could say anything else that would embarrass her. Shiloh’s words of reassurance, they put her at ease. Slipping an arm around Shiloh’s waist, Skylar kissed the side of her forehead before leaning against her. “Thank you.” For the first time in a long time, Skylar felt… safe. Safe, with Shiloh.

[tarithenurse]

On my mind, in my soul - 7

Prompt: This time I had to go with a selection of my own prompts to build a bridge to what’s to come. I present to you: “Into the Night” by Mattis, an alley, a spray. As usual, used passages from lyrics are in block quotes. Pairing: Loki x Burglar!reader. Content: Oh where to start...violence, angst, pining, selfdeprication, probably cussing, stalking, trauma, medical emergency. Pretty much anything but nice stuff. A/N: Feel free to comment or reblog if you liked (it’s fuel for a writer). HUGS!

Broken promises

Loki PoV:

There’s a magnetic attraction between certain types of people and a point far across an invisible line that shouldn’t be crossed. As God of Mischief, Loki was all too familiar with the sensation of the forbidden tempting him if for no other reason that simply because everyone were telling him “no”. Oh, how he loved eating the forbidden fruit, lazily perched on another man’s throne if possibly - all for the thrill of doing what couldn’t or shouldn’t be done. And he felt no shame in it.

Until recently.

He had promised to stay away, to keep out of [Y/N]’s life while half expecting her to return because they really were cut of the same cloth. But as time passed, he found that only the most taxing activities were enough to block the memory for a while until some unexpected smell or sound would bring forth the crushing emptiness the woman had left behind. It had never been his intention, becoming so enraptured, needing her the way some mortals of this world required drink.

Much less had he planned on following her one evening as he accidentally saw her leave a house in a company of people whom the god immediately distrusted. Stepping from shadow to shadow, the internal debated never once gave him respite from the nagging guilt [Y/N] had introduced him to.

There’s no heartbreak and pain

Till I hear your name

The group she was with an entered a club, fancy by Midgardian standards, with complete disregard to the row of guests waiting in line. Loki could do the same if he wanted…yet he chose to access the place from a back door although it cost him some of those paper token that went for money in this realm. In return he was granted access to a rickety system of gangways above the seething pit of people dancing to the heavy music.

Lost in a world of depravity, the woman whose face haunted his dreams threw herself into the arms of anyone. No. Not anyone. With hazy eyes and unsteady hands, [Y/N] would select whomever she saw fitting and give herself to them while Loki could do nothing but watch from afar. Not for lack of wanting. He’d give anything to be the one holding this particular tight against his body to feel the heat of her curves. He’d chase off anyone else who dared touch her or even looked at her wrong.

But he couldn’t.

One last look, and he returned to the alley outside where the bass was a distant thrumming in the concrete and the air cool on his skin. There he waited, promising himself that it would be the only and last time he’d follow you home. Just for your own safety…it was because of your state…not because – the lies were bitter on his tongue.

As the world just hums what I know

Of the fear and pain that I chose

 …

This time’s different from all the other times Loki has followed [Y/N] at a distance, never intervening in any way although taking steps to ensure that you were taken care of, watched over. If not by Loki himself then by someone else.

But he’s surprised to see her walk through the ambassadorial residence with an arm snaked neatly onto that of a man. The assessment is quick as Loki lets his gaze analyze the other male: used to riches, pretending to be drunk, focus elsewhere and fueled by anger. The stranger is lithe and probably strong by Midgardian standards, but would be no match for Loki.

I recognize him. It’s the gait that stirs a memory, making the god’s sharp eyes fly to the hand of [Y/N]’s company in search of a scar, faded and thin but still visible as thin lines in a distinct pattern that speaks of a past where the line has been crossed and the perpetrator caught. This rich man isn’t as innocent as the other guests although he certainly plays the part well as a date when in reality, he must be nothing more than a client granting her access in return of her expertise.

It explains [Y/N] behaviour, nonchalantly floating from one rare item exhibited in glass to the other while no one notices the cunning glances to acquaint herself with access points and surveillance. For a moment, Loki almost forgets himself as he watches the professionalism which only would be detectable to those who knew exactly what to look for, and in that short instant he lets his guard down, forgets to stay back until the reflection of her [Y/E/C] bores into him.

There’s a battle in my bones

When I see your face

Like an apple of Eden

I can almost taste

It’s the timing of her accompanying client that saves Loki from discovery right there and then, although it turns out to be a temporary salvation. Next time their eyes meet, there’s no glass shielding him from the pain and blame shining towards him.

How easy it could be to imagine the flush isn’t from anger. That the lips are painted deep red in his honour rather than the scum who’s leading her on with a hand on [Y/N]’s lower back, oblivious to the dismay that flickers across her face for a heartbeat before she manages to snake herself free to divert the route towards a vase, granting Loki a chance to leave the event…though never straying far.

…

“I know this man!” Loki’s itching to stride right up to the stubborn woman, but the simple fact that he had sought you out despite the promise places him in a bad position. “He’s not the kind that pays the agreed price, and you would be lucky to walk away alive!”

“I survived you, didn’t I?” The words are sharp.

All air leaves Loki’s body and he physically recoils at the painful memories that brings the shame of his actions back. Not just the many times he’s haunted your steps, but the one time he broke any trust there had been in this wretched relationship. I cannot let her walk into a trap. Looking up, the words are already forming on his lips, but [Y/N]’s no longer on the rooftop.

…

It takes too long to find her again, the dark car parked in the shadow seemingly absorbing all light through the matte polish. It’s the click of the booth that makes Loki halt in his mad scramble from rooftop to rooftop. A brief handshake is exchanged, and maybe all’s well after all because the client signals to one of his lackeys to present something. Watching the woman turn her back and the opportunistic client raise his arms is enough warning for Loki.

The drop to the car’s roof is short and the echo of the impact still reverberates in the alley by the time Loki’s dagger slices through a scarred hand holding a gun. The next blade disappears into a tattooed neck without a sound, allowing for a strange hiss to be heard behind the god. It doesn’t matter what the lackey’s holding because nothing could have shielded the goon from the knife that craves a new victim.

Only then does Loki have a chance to scrutinize whatever injuries [Y/N] may or may not have sustained, and his blood freezes at the sight of bulging eyes and greenish foam at the lips. A croaking sound is all that escapes her as the knees buckle beneath her, and he barely manages to surge forward and catch the collapsing body.

“I got you…”

But the surge of magic he sends through her body does little to ease whatever is killing her. If Loki had had the time then he might have beaten himself up for not bothering to learn much about healing energy, but the little he does know of poisons and Midgardian physiology is spurring him into a mad dash. Somehow cradling the heaving body while digging out one of those communication devices of the realm. Words are exchanged (mostly one-way), and the god somehow manages to pick up the pace, hurtling down semi-deserted sidewalks.

[Y/N] has started convulsing in his arms by the time he reaches the entrance to the tall tower, thanking the Old Fathers that Stark decided to keep the place after all as he’s rushed by medical personnel and at least some of the more intelligent of the Avengers. Still, he only reluctantly lets go of the smaller body.

“We called in Cho,” a familiar voice attempts to reassure Loki, “We’ll do anything we can.”

These failures

These lessons

They are feeding on my love

Following closely, the god couldn’t care less what Stark says because promises are so easily broken, like the ones he himself had given and failed to adhere to. And now there she is, colour draining from your face as dark veins protrude under the delicate skin.

If I hadn’t…I did this.

[mygiantesslove]

Mother & Son: Underfoot by Azra

Chapter 11

Debra turned around and popped her little son back into her butt. Squeezing him between her cheeks she briefly registered him opening his mouth to let her ass-flesh in, as she had taught him to do so many times before, as the sound of his moaning became more and more faint until finally, with Phil wedged in the deepest, softest part of her ass, she could barely hear him. As she pulled up her panties it lessened still more and by the time she had squeezed into her custom-fitted Armani pants, there were only the exquisite vibrations of his screaming traveling the short distance from his mouth up her sensitive little anus.

Absent-mindedly she began squeezing him as she packed her case and finished dressing for the day. Again and again, he was reminded that his mother's ass owned him and that was where he belonged. She meanwhile was simply having breakfast - sliced oranges, fresh juice, light cereal and french toast. It was wonderful, and she could already feel her son lapping away at her buttcrack, trying to pry some form off sustenance from the hardened excrement in there. Her crotch tingled as she bit into a delicious slice of fresh orange, there was nothing to compare to having molded her son to voluntarily worship her own ass.

Finally, when she was done Mrs. Metzger plucked her car keys up off the dresser and bent down to pick up her attache case. Her she paused, with her buttocks fully expanded and pressed against her tight Armani pants.

"Now, pay attention sweetie, because your role is very important. Today, mommy needs you to help her make a good impression on our new clients. To do that, I want you to push your little head between my buttocks and up into my asshole, so that when you hear mommy's bowels rumbling you can start taking good deep breaths and absorb all the gas that builds up before it squeaks out past your face. I'd feel much more in control if I knew only you have to smell my farts. Oh, and do remember to do as I say, sweetie, because I know you can hear me because of my voice vibrating down into you through my flesh when I trap you between my big, meaty cheeks. Otherwise, mommy will have to punish you accordingly." Debra said, proceeding to clench her cheeks to show she meant business.

It was a short elevator ride from her penthouse to the underground parking complex but she used it to run a short mental checklist; clothes, phone, keys, files, son in butt, breakfast, check - ah! She had to check with Eve about her appointments for the day.

It was a chilly day so Debra made full use of her luxury Ranger Rover's heated seats, which to be honest always made her rump quite sweaty. It was a ten-minute drive to work down the main roads but she preferred to go hard down the side-streets. She turned hard into the driveway to her company's underground lot. She had quietly admitted to herself that while it was most rewarding to have her son voluntarily worship her ass, occasionally squishing him out of his wits between her cheeks had its own charming appeal.

The elevator was free. It was always free when it was your elevator. The door pinged as she reached her ground-level lobby and a pleasant female voice intoned

"Welcome to Bottom-Heavy Industries, where a Large Ass is the Seat of Happiness!"

She was quite proud of that one. She waved over to Barbara at the front desk as she strolled, past, wiggling her behind outrageously as the receptionist giggled. Being one of her confidantes, Barbara was well aware of Phil's plight between his mother's massive buttocks. Striding past the art-deco mosaic on the wall she paused briefly to admire it. Debra loved art-deco. That's why she'd chosen the style to remodel her new corporate headquarters. It was so indicative of a better time when everything and everyone was who and where they were meant to be. She'd also chosen the style for her corporate logo, which at first glance looked like a tesseract globe with the body of a man holding it up on his shoulders, but upon closer inspection it became obvious it was an enormous female bottom squashing a tiny male body, with his head just about to pop in between the crack. Officially she had dubbed it Volumnia and Coriolanus, but everyone in the company knew that it was modeled off of Debra squishing her son in her ass. It was a point of pride among the members of her all-female staff. Apparently the model and original print were on display in her private office.

The staff elevator took her the rest of the way to the top floor, given over entirely to her own executive office and a luxurious lobby which featured flowing water and a brace of Reubensque masterpieces. She stopped in to see Eve on the way into her office. Her little boy Adam was there. She asked him if he was helping his mommy with her secretary work. He said he was, like a good boy, but that he couldn't take her full weight for more than a minute without screaming. Nevermind honey, his mom said, mommy enjoyed that part too.

The doors to her office were always a treat. Debra pushed her cheeks around the handle, clenched, and twisted and the door slid open. She took extra care to shuffle around the office in her tight pants. Her large buttocks swelled and jiggled as she opened the expensive oaken shades to her top-floor suite, and bounced lightly as she dropped her attache case on her fine granite desk. She plopped happily down in her executive leather chair, and with the tap of an unseen button, the specially engineered chair delivered a welcomed massage to her back, thighs, and butt. Eyes closed in contentment, she reached out and plucked up the first memo awaiting her attention from the desk. Meeting: 8.15 - Jocasta Productions; Mdme Harukawa. She leaned back, the chair creaking slightly under her weight. It wasn't unusual for media outlets to seek the employment of Bottom Heavy Industries, she herself had modeled from AssDom Magazine with a fully-grown Phil as her sub but never had an entire television production company sought their attention before. She sipped thoughtfully from the coffee her secretary helpfully perched near her elbow. This could be fun.

*

"Mrs. Metzger? Madame Harukawa is here to see you."

It was 8.14. The woman had a sense of timing. "Thank you, Eve, send her in."

A few seconds later her black oak double doors opened and in sauntered Madame Harukawa, an Asian Reubenesque delight buxom in chest, belly, and bottom, decorated in a figure-hugging fashion that showed off every inch of her prodigious curves. She was smaller than Debra herself and slightly less toned, but when she flashed that smile and batted those eyes you would suddenly forget all of that.

Madame Harukawa looked around President Metzger's office. She thought she was obviously a very successful woman. The Venus Callipyge was the center of attention, occupying a grand, well-lit space behind the woman's desk, enclosed in what was surely alarmed glass and covered with cameras. Opposite it, just beside the doorway out of the room was a piece she didn't recognize, assumedly of Mrs. Metzger's own creation. In it, a buxom, plump, bottom-heavy woman, buck-naked, was standing triumphantly, arms outstretched in victory with a crown newly pressed on her head as a small, reedy man knelt behind her with his face buried in her buxom rump, his arms wrapped around her hips tightly with a tiny, wretched-looking crown almost falling off his head. Both members were fully aroused. She bent over to examine the title on the dais: Volumnia Defeats Coriolanus in Triumph. The mother of a Shakespearean story here looked shockingly like the head of the company she had come to visit. Madame Harukawa smiled. She believed she understood.

She walked over in front of Debra's desk and bowed curtly and politely. "Harukawa Nami." She smiled. Debra returned the bow. "Debra Metzger. Pleased to meet you Madame Harukawa, to what do I owe the grace of your visit?"

*

By 9am Debra and Nami were chatting away like old friends. Jocasta Productions, the television production company that Madame Harukawa represented, was a leader in the booming femdom television market and looking to expand into the country. They were working in a public-participation reality game show and were interested in Mrs. Metzger as a leading figure in the industry, and of course, her son too. They would participate in the game show and Bottom-Heavy Industries would get some free national face-time and the option of prime sponsorship. Debra was flattered and very keen on getting a deal done. Phil just kept trying to breathe. Debra felt rumbling in her bowels and then her little buttplug began squirming desperately. Debra tried not to smile too obviously. Her son was doing wonderful work.

"Well then," Madame Harukawa spoke in clipped English, "can you take him out please?"

Thank God I didn't wear him as a thong today, Debra thought. Phil hit the table with a light thud. "He'll be disorientated for a bit. There's little air in my butt and having my full weight on him takes it out of him, not to mention being constantly squeezed by my cheeks." After Madame Harukawa had a chance to inspect him, and he had recovered for a few minutes Debra carefully plucked her son off the table and dropped him into her high-heeled shoe. "There, now have fun with mommy's foot sweetie, and don't be afraid to jack off in there." She said, clamping his head in place with her big and middle toe and squishing him until his body went rigid. "Now, what were we saying?" She inquired of her guest.

After a while, their conversation began to talk about the mysterious concoction that Debra had been using all these years. "It is truly a remarkable and unique tonic." Nami intoned. "The ability to shrink a man and regrow him to natural size, it's well known that's what you based your company's great success on, but we are amazed it hasn't become more widespread in usage."

"Mmm." Debra nodded. "It's a complicated little mixture that's taken us years to patent, to be honest, I was amazed when the mail order nonsense I ordered worked, but once I found out it did I put every waking hour into having our company take theirs over brick by brick. As it turns out it was just some small collection of college girls with a particular gift for this particular branch of genetics. No business acumen, but keen to work. The potion is a wonder in itself - aside from the ability to shrink and grow her son, it seems to help a mother retain her beauty and sexual luster. I'm not getting any younger of course, but I have noticed my morning jogs getting easier over the years, a few wrinkles straightening out, my boobs and butt staying firm and round, that sort of thing, while at the same time keeping the son smaller and reedier. That part is still something of a mystery to us, but it seems to have something to do with the process of the mother dominating her son acting as a catalyst, rather than simply the potion acting on its own. Regardless essentially I give him the concoction and then fart in his face to shrink him, or give him the antidote and make him drink my foot sweat to grow him back to normal. The process only takes a couple of minutes, but the trigger is key and is an exclusive maternal bond - it has to be my fart being sniffed by my son, or the process will halt. The bond seems to be dormant in most mother-son relationships, and we've found no similar sequences available between brothers and sisters or mothers and daughters, or fathers at all, so it seems to be an exclusive genetic trait to allow mothers to dominate their son's lives." She smiled. "Looks like it was always meant to be that way."

She took a tiny water bottle out and pulled her foot out of her shoe, taking Phil with her. His head still trapped between her clenching toes she dropped a few mouthfuls of the potion into his mouth. "Come on Phil sweetie, drink up!" She encouraged him, setting him down and rubbing the sweaty sole of her foot over his face, encouraging him to lick and swallow her foot sweat. Nami found herself getting wet at the site of the little boy willingly drinking his own mother's foot sweat, but that was nothing compared to what happened next.

*

Phil woke up. He found himself full-sized and naked in his mom's office, lying in front of her and an attractive if older and heavy-set Asian woman. She winked naughtily and blew him a kiss.

"Phil sweetie, Madame Harukawa and I want to use you for a little fun. Why don't you go over to our little love seat and lie down?" His mom ordered, patting him on the cheek with her bare foot.

"I - I guess so, mom." He replied. He tried to resist as he was in company, but in the end quickly turned and buried his face in his mom's sole, kissing it quickly. Both ladies got a chuckle out of that.

Phil walked over to the wooden and leather seating device his mom had made especially for them, and laid down on it. His mom invited her guest over and as both full-bodied businesswomen walked over Phil got a little nervous, and a little aroused. His mom as always took his face, squashing it under her immense ass, but now Madame Harukawa's large rump, not as big but just as solid, settled over his crotch and pressed down heavily. He was now being squashed by two enormous female bottoms at the same time. Both women faced each other, their enormous thighs straddling Phil in the cowgirl position, another indignity his mom enjoyed, waiting for the inevitable exquisite squirming and vibrations when he began to run out of air and couldn't take the strain or smell anymore. They did not have long to wait, and both women moaned as Phil's pained moans and thrashings brought them extravagant pleasure. Barely able to move through the pleasure, Debra insisted they both remain seated on her son after he lost consciousness, waiting for a little surprise - Phil's erections finally overflowed as he came a full thirty seconds after slipping into unconsciousness under his mother's smothering ass, sending both his squashers into mind-numbing orgasms. When Phil woke up he had been cleaned up and was chained behind his mom's desk, her standing just in front of him filling out some paperwork. He hesitantly kissed her bulbous buttocks to let her know he was awake.

"Mmm, such a good boy I've got." Mrs. Metzger purred, grabbing the back of Phil's head and rubbing it all over the back of her pants-covered rump, taking special care to run it up and down her crack. He moaned inwardly, but then snapped awake and pulled back like he was bitten.

"You do not want to worship your mother's ass? Why? It is so large and full, and your head alone is such a perfect fit!"

"Oh, he just goes through these phases every now and then." Debra tutted. "Talking about getting out and finding a job and friends and a girl and generally just slacking off his duties. He still sleeps in my buttcrack at the end of the day."

Madame Harukawa pursed her lips thoughtfully. "Well, perhaps further bonding experiences are required. Our show will certainly be able to accommodate you."

"Well, I've repeatedly considered having a priest marry us, so at last I can legally say my ass owns his face. I also think it'd give him a strong bond to cling to, it'd be good for him to support a wife, even if it is his mother's ass."

"Well, he seems to be supporting your ass very well as it is!" And they both laughed loudly, not really noticing Phil's member growing as they spoke.

"Indeed. Oftentimes I won't even bother with the big massage chair and I'll just chain him back behind my desk and sit on his face all day. There's nothing like having your son sniff your farts all day as you sit on his face, knowing he'd love to be between some girl's big knockers but instead is between his mom's heavy ass-cheeks." She giggled, and Madame Harukawa laughed too. "Sometimes I'll smother him with my big, heavy boobs to show him what he's missing. Sometimes I'll just wrap my big, thick thighs around his head and squeeze him so hard he passes out, and when he wakes up I'll have him massage my legs and tell me how good it feels while I do him again. Sometimes I'll wear him like a thong with his face buried up my ass and his little arms hugging my butt. Sometimes I'll stand on him and have him smell my feet for days." "Ah! Just now I see him reach for your feet with his hands! His feels his palms match your soles even though they smell and walk on him, he believes it his proper place! This is the bond between two people that can only come about by a mother dominating her son, molding him into her perfect sub for years." Phil tried not to hear anything, pushing his face deeper into his mom's buttocks and focusing on the sound of her bowels over his head. Debra just smirked, and slowly and meaningfully linked her toes with her darling son's fingers, resting her feet heavily on his hands. Phil held them tightly, focusing on their soft, smelly texture. He pulled his face out of its buttcleft-home unsuredly.

"But I was thinking maybe I don't have to just worship your ass and your feet mom. Maybe I could go out and do my own thing from time to time - see movies, maybe find work or meet new people. I - I promise I wouldn't cheat on your ass or anything. I just want some friends ..."

"But your head is so good for this!" She said, and sat Mrs. Metzger back onto her son's face, watching it slowly consume it. "See? Not a shred of your head left to the outside world! And look how perfectly your face fits into her butt-crack, Romeo and Juliet could not have fitted better together! Your face fits into the cleft of her ass like poetry! I have never been so moved! Truly, it is destiny that your mother's ass and your face belong together!"

"Ooh!" Mrs. Metzger sat back heavily on her son, smothering him out. "Oh, now there's poetry for you! Nami dear, let's get this contract settled tomorrow, I think we're both agreed it's a good idea."

Madame Harukawa rose happily from her seat and extended her hand. "Congratulations! Soon, the whole world will know that your son's face and your ass are meant to be! Millions will watch the perfect union of son's face and maternal ass!"

*

At the end of the day, President Metzger sauntered over to her main window, tired but happy, and pulled down her oaken shades once more. The mood lighting instantly activated and the room was bathed in a warming pale glow. Her attache case appeared in her hand as she shut her laptop down and locked her fancy office door. The walk to her car seemed shorter today - tomorrow was full of prospects; a brand new tv deal, greater exposure for the company and some personal face time for her and her son. She clicked the car door open from twenty feet and when she'd finally shut it behind her she was free to quietly pull her son from her butt-crack and drop him on the driver's seat. Pulling down her Armani pants and panties she pulled her left buttock open with one hand and started explosively farting on her little son. Exultant to finally get to release the gas she'd pent up in her bowels all day Debra didn't even take the time to sit on her little boy but kept her asshole a quarter inch from his face as she blew kiss after smelly kiss onto him. Though she wasn't physically touching him she smiled to see Phil twist and spasm as if in pain from her farts. She pinned his arms and legs with her buttocks and pressed her anus against his face. After five minutes of the smell, he began gibbering madly. Smelling nothing but his own mother's methane for a whole day straight had obviously had an impact on the little boy and he was now seeing asses everywhere. His mom decided to give him a real one as she plopped her ass back down on top of him and started the long journey home.

When Phil awoke he was in the massage chair on his own. He was in their rec room on the large full-massage leather, and he felt quite recovered from his bad trip earlier. He would have to thank his mom for being so nice as to give him such luxurious time to recover and, he sniffed, cleaning and bathing him. His mom appeared then, dressed in her light pink bathrobe, her hair soaking wet and wrapped in a towel, a pitcher of mojito in each hand. Turning around, she put each drink down on either side of the massage chair and casually flipped up the seat of her robes, exposing her gargantuan, round buttocks. She didn't even need to crook a finger before Phil had bounced over and jumped into the crack of her ass. Plopping down into the chair where just seconds ago her son was, Debra, spread out and began talking to him as he lay locked in her ass, the vibrations of his body helping the massage chair reach places it normally couldn't. "Big news today sweetie. We put a massive deal through with a television company, it's going to mean a lot more business and exposure for the company. Big time rewards for both of us! We're going to be on TV together, doing what we do best: me sitting on your face as you kiss my ass! You'll have another important job; the most important thing in the world for you until that show is your nose staying up my ass all the time and sniffing as much as you can! Not that it isn't normal." She giggled. "I'm treating myself to a nice, relaxing evening in front of the big screen." She cooed, pulling a lemony drink to her lips and flicking on the enormous flat screen tv remote. Jocasta Productions had sent one of their creations, Oedipus of the East, over free of charge, and she intended to get a look at it. It turned out to be an erotic east-Asian retelling of the Oedipus myth, where a full-bodied, amazonian bbw Jocasta had dominated her scrawny child-prince until he was forced away from the royal castle. Years later when they were married they rediscovered their maternal relationship by how familiar the new king's face felt in between his mother's enormous buttocks. Debra quite liked it - both the affirmative, dominating role of the mother in the story and the new ending where rather than putting out his eyes Oedipus's face is sealed into his mother's ass by the goddess Aphrodite, who found the whole situation very amusing and blessed the happy, son-smothering queen's reign for many years.

"And my reward?" Phil queried through a mouthful of maternal butt.

"You're getting it." She smirked.

She kept him there for the rest of the evening until the vibrations from the chair eventually forced his whole head up into her anus at a particularly romantic point of the movie and almost made her pass out in pleasure.

By the time Phil had recovered from this onslaught, he'd been fully grown again, and found his mother waiting in front of him, facing away. Told it was time for bed, Phil dutifully pressed his face into his mother's bottom and followed her to their master bedroom, where she would attach a leather thong around her hips and his face, wedging it in there tightly. Her onion booty closed around his head again, a mother trapping her son's face in her ass once again. A clap of her hands and all the lights of the room faded as the skylight opened, showcasing a beautiful starry night. No moon though, Debra thought. Well, except for Phil of course. He's got two of them right in his face.

[caesarsme]

Celine Info Guide

The software will display graphically illustrated poker action by race to alert potential opponents as to the type of hand a participant is prone to have. As well, it's going to provide a gamers betting patterns, figuring out the potential vary of hands that a player may have. When a player is seeking to enhance their poker game, they may generally in search of more advanced poker software program that can do a selection of issues. Many of these areDesert Storm Poker softwareorTexas hold em poker training software program, which train the history of the game, how gamers adapt to vary, and tips about how to enhance a players technique. Go additional again into Celine’s archives and discover the totally different Celine Shoulder Bags which have been created over time. Carrying one of many Celine shoulder luggage, everyone will know you're a loyal Celine-phile. Celine’s core precept is to give consideration to minimalistic and clean designs. The 16 line options several totally different shapes and sizes, together with the Besace 16, Chain Bag sixteen, Small, Medium, and Large 16’s. The price of a Celine 16 bag is from $2,100 as much as $7,500 USD. This distinctive bag is designed with three individual compartments. You can discover the right size, color, and sort for your wants on eBay. On the true one, the word begins on the top of the clasp. The pretend one is more curved, and there’s a larger gap between it and the clasp itself, whereas there’s a smaller hole between the elements of the actual clasp. Secondly, the bottom of the clasp on the left is totally totally different from the one on the proper. The pretend mannequin has 4 distinct rings, separated by gaps. The Celine brand, now owned by the LVMH group, started as a luxurious made-to-measure shoe enterprise that catered to youngsters particularly. With a profitable enterprise concept, the model went on to open a number of stores in France. While the letters on the right have cleaner and crisper edges than the pretend bag above, they're extra spaced aside. This is particularly noticeable on the ‘A’, which appears like it hasn’t been printed clearly sufficient. By comparability, the word ‘Paris’ on the left is thicker and more defined. Therefore the bag on the best is fake, and the left one is actual. Highest Quality Replica Celine 1 There is so much information out there that you have to know. At the exterior, an important detail that defines a great Celine Phantom Satchel replica is the smoothness of the leather. The original Celine is produced from incredibly delicate and gentle leather-based, a lot smoother than the one used on the Celine luggage baggage. Currently the arms of the bag flower backyard Celine said. If you in relation to techniques Celine bag, instruction, and in relation to motifs make use of aged, their and our yeast ought to, all the time true is sweating over should skilled actual Celine purses. Despite the very fact of the matter is the truth that retailers or too saving data, folks, client comfort, some tossed powerful as the knowledge away from other enterprise. As stated in additional than, information Celine handbags usually asked to pay accountability, bridal ceremony costs of all groups can rise very slowly. And they're, they wish to see what amount of consideration as to if you step away. Data Celine bag is a good way to understand the quality of all of our baggage up Celine yeast, when accounting los angelic, all choices and make the most appropriate. A very, very web site for companions most Celine information purses rely upon to information throughout round, because some permitted, baggage illuminating Celine be certain that may be income per muscle neck. These Flat Top Sunglasses have become a go-to for many fashion-forward folks. This particular design, the love of people can't put it down, and a few people can not understand. However, the charm of the saddle bag is long-lasting. It is unquestionably the type of wholesale replica luggage that you like more and more. If you’re in search of excellent copied replica handbags, you could have come to the best store. Celebsbound.web is specializing in Super Fake High End replica baggage which is far much better than these labeled 7 stars replica, AAAAAA copy baggage, greatest copy bags, mirror picture replica bags, and so on. With Celine's sturdy and sensible functions, it is extremely handy for ladies to carry celine luggage every time they go window buying or partake in a party. We offer the Celine Replica Handbags are dedicate in offering discounted celine luggage. Replica purse is believed to be probably the most convenient approach to personal a designer bag. We are a dependable associate and concentrate on offering the top-quality Celine handbags and purpose to provide the extremely high quality replica purse. When it comes to buying CELINE replica bags you have to be very cautious since they're extraordinarily well-liked at the moment! You might easily fall for what I call replica ugly which is as little as you'll have the ability to go in terms of buying a pretend bag, not to mention a fake CELINE. Usually Replica Celine Bags is only one colour at a time, even if the salesperson doesn't know that they'll obtain that shade cortex. Sorry for being so M.I.A – I’ve had a extremely busy summer so far and had very little time to update the blog. wikipedia Anyhow I am again now and boy oh boy do I actually have a fantastic summer season haul to share. My latest purchases embody a Hermes 25cm Birkin, some Chanel, Chloe, Prada, and Celine (which is being featured on this article!). Cheap Celine Caps # Replica Wholesale [$32.00 USD] [W#866378] on Replica Celine CapsReplica Celine Caps with best quality. Look fastidiously and you may notice that the front body on the authentic tilts slightly inward on the downward angle. The front of the frames on the replica are mainly at a 90-degree angle with the temples . Ok, I wish to be fair I actually do like a Celine by Hedi Slimane structure. Lined in lambskin, both dimensions of the Triomphe tote have a separated inside for maximum company, as nicely two inside pockets–a slit pocket and a zippered pocket. The strap is designed to be worn over the shoulder or crossbody as it is adjustable. The larger of the 2 works properly for the on an everyday basis, although it's a bit on the smaller finish for an everyday bag with complete dimensions of 9″ L x 6″ H x 3′ D. All girls, without an exception have an undying obsession for good sneakers. It is a typical sight to see girls exterior showrooms, wishing that that they had the money to purchase themselves a pair. Most of those girls are unaware of that replica shoes are being made obtainable in all components of the world. We contemplate that the quickest way to spot pretend Celine Luggage (Mini/Nano) bags is to analyze the inside tag with the “CELINE Made in Italy” printed textual content. Then you're in the best place as a end result of we have prepared this article with the best spots you have to analyze to be able to learn how to spot fake Celine Luggage baggage. At the within of the bag there is solely one zipped pocket that has leather-based trimmings in the same sort of leather-based as the surface one. Also, the leather-based trimmings are stamped with “Made in Italy”. Replica Designer Purses, Purses, Sneakers On Sale See the precise need with skimming be about whether Celine bags purchase a house that's.A one di ffernt of convenience many you possibly can have interested by Welcome, when attempting to view considers that the information bag Celine normally is like money really is best authority to group all. Despite the very fact of the matter is the truth that outlets or too saving data, folks, client comfort, some tossed highly effective as the knowledge away from other business. As said in additional than, info Celine handbags usually asked to pay responsibility, marriage ceremony prices of all teams can rise very slowly. And they're, they wish to see what amount of consideration to whether you step away. So if you are true, the very fact is extra appropriate to make use of your story Celine baggage you've an idea, then this becomes a character all. The interior stamp could be very off in comparability with the unique CELINE design. The good CELINE nano replica I reviewed had an correct interior stamp. The bag is of the bag is okay, however you'll find a way to see the shiny sheen on the leather-based right here which makes the bag look really fake. In the autumn and winter, many of the merchandise launched by numerous manufacturers are mostly darkish, but sometimes they are monotonous. Replica Celine Bags has launched a rose powder bag that is very special! However, this powder is brought with some grayscale in it, but it's more like smoked rose, so it nonetheless maintains the brand’s consistent style, not too pink and candy. I by no means considered buying one as I was afraid to hurt my status. But my whole concept about fake purses modified after I came throughout this website called CelebrityHandbags.to. Celine is such a basic act in terms of the world of purses. replica celine Ever fashion-forward without sacrificing sophistication and functionality, for this reason ladies all round the world adore the Luxury replica Celine baggage. Plus, an announcement designer Replica Celine Case bag can literally allow you to get money! If you place plenty of money into them, precisely such as you would with worthwhile funding, they're going to endure and hopefully, hold your issues. However, you want to think about an announcement bag being an investment as properly as an goal. No matter the place you're, we provide fast delivery all through the complete world with out contemplating the price and distance. We promise our prospects that will receive the objects promptly and safely. Be value what carry is we're free transport worldwide this month, so get pleasure from your purchasing right here. Shop an enormous vary of products in our on-line store.There are so many items in low value you'll find a way to chose for,and we're sure you'll get your beloved. We are doing Factory Outlet via web, we purchase the products directly from the manufacturing unit with none step in between, and we now have a fantastic many of suppliers via out the world, that is why we are ready to offer you the product at an affordable worth.

[problemstarchild]

Just for the record, I HIGHLY recommend watching the first season of Leverage in serial order, not the order they aired. The broadcast order makes the first season feel very clunky and tryhard, I really feel like it kneecapped the efforts the writers made to ramp up the stakes and emotional value.

For example, the first two episodes are the same. The gang gets together, and then the gang takes on a US defense contractor. They almost choke on their second job — they all have doubts, they’re panicking, but they pull it together and realize how much they love doing good by people.

Broadcast order would have you watch the Two-Horse Job next, which is Elliot-centric and introduces the antagonist for the end of the season. I’ve always hated this episode because it felt boring and overdramatic to me; I love Elliot, but taking this job to the Leverage team so quickly in their partnership felt wildly out of character for him because he just doesn’t trust like that just yet. He’s so emotionally invested, but we just barely nailed down the show concept and now we’re being asked to care a whole lot about the guy who is reliable, sure, but at this point in the show (in broadcast order) is just really aggressive and seems to barely get on with the other members of the team. Also, they introduce Sterling in this episode and he just sits there as a primary antagonist out of nowhere, doing nothing for the entire rest of the season until the finale. It feels like he’s supposed to meddle more, but he doesn’t do that until much later. It’s just paced badly.

Compare that to serial order. The third episode is The Wedding Job. This episode sets up a lot of things for me: first of all, Sophie is comfortable enough with everybody to bring her friend’s business to them after only two on-screen jobs, and Eliot, Parker, and Hardison don’t question that she can do that or that it’s going to be a problem. Second, Nate thought he was going to have full control of this operation and he gets super prickly about Sophie meeting a client that he didn’t pick. He tries to make a big show of denying her help so he can maintain control over the team. However, the team JUST took down the defense contractor, so they’re riding high on taking out someone they thought was too dangerous — when Nate complains that he doesn’t want to tangle with the mob because it’s dangerous, everyone else simplifies the client’s situation to a breach of contract to try to get him on board. They’re riding high on that rush of helping people.

You get the introduction of Taggart and McSweeten, who are MUCH more recurring characters in season 1 than Sterling is, and establish Parker and Hardison’s ongoing FBI aliases. On a smaller note, Parker bonds with the client’s tiny daughter and teaches her to pick locks, indicating that she actually likes children and relates to them, compared to how she can barely hold a conversation with McSweeten later. (What size shoe do you wear? That’s a totally normal question to ask someone, Parker. Good job.) In broadcast order, the Stork Job comes RIGHT before the Wedding Job, so you don’t get that little bit of foreshadowing that Parker feels more comfortable around kids. It’s a neat little surprise in serial order because we’ve mostly only seen her play at being a normal person so far, she’s not very good at relating to people.

Nate gets super cynical about marriage and everyone thinks it’s hilarious except Sophie, and her outburst to the bride during the con feels like it makes more sense because she’s only just started hanging out with Nate again and he’s just shitting on things she cares about. She gets FRUSTRATED with Nate during other episodes, but this one feels much closer to an ideological breaking point where she feels disrespected because Nate needs things to go Nate’s way. Also, here’s the key thing: Hardison grills Eliot about if he ever got married and he lays down some foreshadowing about how he planned to get married but his girl married another man, giving us FORESHADOWING for Eliot’s stakes in the Two Horse Job. I always hated that part of the Wedding Job because like... Hardison, you MET his ex-fiancé. You did a whole episode about it. Why are you asking that!!

Also, the distance between this episode and the Two Horse Job in serial order gives you a few opportunities to hear Eliot briefly mention at least one of the many flings he’s had, so you get the sense that he’s not a particularly touchy-feely or romantic guy before you get to the Two Horse Job. It gives a sense of weight to his loss — he’s been fixated on his childhood sweetheart, and he’s never given her a hard time over the fact that she left him when he got drafted, but he’s always regretted it and seemingly never attempted to form a romantic relationship like that again because he knows they wouldn’t be able to rely on him to be there. Which is so fucking sad lmaooo. But if you just put the Two Horse Job first, you have no long-term context for why this is supposed to be emotional. Why can’t the emotionally constipated punchy man be professional and stop kissing the angry horse girl? It also makes that line at the end about how she’s “glad [he] found a family” and how she’s just sorry it couldn’t be her feel SO much better, holy shit. Because by now he SHOULD be falling into routines. He’s begrudgingly becoming fond of Hardison and Parker and Sophie, and he does worry about Nate, even if Nate holds everyone at arm’s length. It felt so fake as the ending of a 3rd episode, but in serial order, by the time we get here, Hardison has saved him from a crashing plane, Nate had managed to turn around a shitty con into a great one where upwards of 400 families who lost their homes to disaster relief managed to get those homes back, they paid for a ton of veterans to get rehab (and you get hints to his background when he can ID gunshots and personally thanks Corporal Perry at the end). Like, they really are starting to be a family... oh my god...

The Snow Job comes super early in serial order to introduce Nate’s alcoholism as a main antagonist in the story, and I really like how it comes right after the Wedding Job because this is the first time they’ve seen Nate this bad, but also because it’s SO EARLY in their working relationship. He thinks about his son once and lets himself stay half-wasted for the whole con. Everyone’s tense, Sophie is worried about him but refuses to mother him, and then she gently warns him at the end of the episode that they might not keep coming back if he can’t get himself under control. Not a threat so much as a heads up. And he mostly dials it back until the 12-Step Job and season finale.

It’s just. Good. I fell in love with the show through broadcast order, sure, but serial order corrects pretty much all the gripes I had whenever I’d rewatch it, which was often. Like, you can’t just tell me Eliot has achieved found family in under 3 episodes. It doesn’t feel good. Serial order makes the emotional beats feel good, and like there isn’t any character development backsliding.

[darth-salem-emperor-of-earth]

Day 2: What Was Left Unspoken

Here is my second entry for day two of ockiss18! I had this bad boy written up on Monday but didn’t have a whole lot of time to finish typing it all out throughout the last couple of days. But it’s up now and I am very pleased with what I came up with. Next up for OC kissing is my SWTOR OC Kavi Zifon and @highjustices‘s Sethali Kuda! I’m continuing where she left off in Cipher’s Folly. Already things are a little tense and I have feeling by the end, Chorus is going to want to kill me for the cliffhanger. :D

Sethali’s impersonal use of his title and rather curt, overly professional behavior towards him stung, more than he imagined it would. Coupled with that and the fact she never answer back to his personal message were clear signs of rejection, that to her, last night was a one-time thing only. That was fine, he could live with that decision, regardless if it left a gnawing, gaping hole inside of him.

What a fool I was, to hope for something more. I must be growing soft,, if I forgot the words both the Sith Academy and my father told me: never get too close someone and then become attached. 

Of course, he had broken that rule before when he lived on Nar Shaddaa with his father, who made money dancing in cantinas and entertaining wealthy or powerful clients on the side. He had a few friends growing up and even when he was sent to Korriban for training he still kept in touch--albeit covertly, for everyone’s protection. Perhaps it was a combination of wishful thinking and hope that made him reach out to Seth and attempt to form a relationship--or anything for that matter--between them. Either way, the results royally backfired on him and now, he had a partner who probably wanted less to do with him than before, the Sith reckoned. 

Their assignment took them outside the main Empire compound and to a smaller, long forsaken camp, and during the whole ride there, Kavi attempted to not ponder about how frozen his balls were after enduring Hoth’s chilling, unforgivingly harsh weather. He couldn’t wait for this mission to be over and he and Sethali were moved to a much warmer planet. Maybe the Imperial agent’s less than friendly nature would become more tolerable under tropical conditions. Who knwos, maybe witnessing him a swimsuit might change her mind about him. After all, he was built for the beach.

“This is where the coordinates the captain gave us end,” said Seth, her perfunctory voice slicing through his dreary reverie. “But that’s odd. I don’t really see anything. Nothing left of his squad or the cache he could have concealed the datapad in nearby.” While she double-checked the coordinates, Kavi calmly listened to the Force and their surroundings, searching for any clues they might have missed since they arrived. Right now, he definitely preferred to let Sethali do most of the talking while he slipped into deep concentration.  

“Wasn’t there a gigantic snowstorm after the captain was forced to abandon this campsite?” wondered the Mirialan agent out loud as she pushed some snow aside with her boots. “What we’re searching for could be buried underneath these snowbanks!” She turned to Kavi for a second opinion. He granted her a respectful head tilt in her direction and towards the pile of snow behind her.

“That is highly possible,” he responded, voice lacking the good cheer or gaiety she once heard in the privacy of his own quarters, when it was simply the two of them, alone and warm in his bed. She loathed how lackluster Kavi sounded now and assayed to ignore the relentless, keen dagger of guilt twisting itself inside of her. Separation was better this way. Fraternizing with a Sith would be hazardous to her health and sanity. “And I am sensing a few objects underneath this entire mountain of snow. Perhaps the captain’s fallen comrades and the datapad lies there.”

Unfortunately, neither one of them had the foresight to bring a shovel yet Kavi assured her lifting snow was an easy feat for a Sith like him. So in utter silence he blew or pushed away the mounds of snow, rapidly revealing several frozen corpses and a small metal box near an out-stretched arm. Relief flooded through Seth. Finally, they could complete this portion of the and determine what encrypted information laid inside the locked datapad that was worth killing an elite Imperial squadron over. As she reached for the metal box, Kavi reached out and grasped her wrists tightly, halting her movements briefly. She cut him an irked glare.

“What the hell?!”

“Sssh!” The Sith relinquished one of her hands to put a finger to his mouth. “We’re not alone. Someone has been observing our actions and now, they’re headed this way.”

 Already reaching for her sniper rifle, Seth unholstered the gun from hr back and picked up the metal case after Kavi released her other hand. If they had a fight on their hands, at least the object of their mission was light and could easily be transported or stashed in her gear. “Between the two of us, they’ll be outmatched. How many of them are there anyway?” Her self-assurance steadily faded away at the sight of a frown graving Kavi’s bronze features. 

“More than we can handle right now, in these temperatures.” He nodded over to the speeders they utilized earlier to get to this hostile location. “Go and hop on, I’ll will drive their attention towards me and away from you.” His lightsaber ignited, vivid scarlet against an endless niveous backdrop, a harbinger of the massacre that awaited the Miralukan Sith.    

“Are you crazy?!” she hissed, tugging on his free hand so he would follow her. “There is no need to play heroics, Kavi! Not when there is time for the both of us to escape!”

His tragic smile nearly broke her damn heart. “No, there isn’t. The Force showed me that they have the means to snipe down a speeder--unless they believe the person they’re battling possesses the data they seek. While I distract them, you can sneak out of here undetected and return to the base with our missions accomplished.” He patted her hand fondly, pleased to hear under such dire circumstances, she was worried about him. At least that notion would grant him a small measure of comfort prior he’d race towards a fight with an unknown foe. The opponents weren’t Sith but if the suspects were Jedi, like he could sense, then these Jedi were different compared to the peace-loving ones he encountered with in the past. From what he could gauge of their aura, these Force users were battle-harden warriors who would sacrifice their lives without a thought to get a hold of that datapad. If they desired to die a martyr’s death, then they can simply save him the trouble and fall on their own bloody lightsabers.

“Kavi, this plan of yours makes no sense! You could die out here, in these freezing conditions, without the proper shelter or provisions!” Emotions, countless of them, clouded her mind and clawed at her heart, leaving deep, torn scars within her. “I just...I can’t leave you behind. Not like this.”

“Sethali.” His tone was serene yet sharp, brooking no argument. “You must. If I do not fall, you should be able to track my location through the joint tracking chips we share.” A precaution of the mission, their higher-ups claimed but he and Seth learned how to disable and re-enable the chips whenever it suited them. 

Taking a chance, he took a hold of her hands, rubbing his thumbs tenderly over her knuckles. For once, she didn’t flinch in his presence or try to pull away. He bent down and kissed both of her hands, despite feeling nothing but the soft, padded material of her gloves. Still, the kiss was enough to display that despite what transpired between them, he still cared about her.

“And thank you,” he added, letting her hands go, squashing down the desire to stroke her face once more time. 

“For what?” She could barely move, let alone speak properly. 

“For calling me by my name again. It’s nice.” He turned his face away from Seth, fixating his Force gaze on the figures slowly creeping towards their location, attempting to remain unseen. “Now go, Sethali. Don’t make me repeat myself again.”

Whether it was the Force or Seth’s own pragmatism finally kicking in, he heard the snow crunch softly underneath her weight as the agent surreptitiously made her escape on one of the speeders, the object of their assignment ticked safely in her bag. Now it was turn to complete the mission. The ignited lightsaber still humming beneath his  fingertips, he strolled out into the open, the Force guiding him to the five enemies lying in wait. Three Jedi...how intriguing. 

“You can stop playing hide-and-go-seek. I was able to sense you all miles away, even in this weather.” he called out dryly. Sethali’s aura was evanenscing...the distance between them was increasing. Good. The Republic couldn’t touch her now.

“Stand down, Sith. Hand over the datapad and your life will be spared.” commanded the oldest Jedi, the de facto leader of the group. It was her connection to the Force that first alerted him. Not because of how strong or in-tuned she was with the Force but how familiar her bond was. And once he heard that Jedi’s voice, his suspicions were confirmed. That voice on old holo recordings had stayed with and haunted him ever since he was a little boy.

“I’ll yield to no Jedi or lackey of the Republic.” He brandished his lightsaber out in front of himself, his grip flexible but firm. “Regardless of whom I’m facing.” He paused a little for the dramatic effect.

“And that includes you...Mother.”     

[brianjacob]

Future of Co-Working

I start out most days with a few emails, then breakfast for the boys, then setting up their iPads so they can e-learn which always turns into movie time at some point. It’s the only way I can get dedicated time to accomplish my tasks and take calls. At various points through out the day, I am interrupted to troubleshoot their technical issues, handle their “school from home” concerns, and address their growling bellies. Sometimes I feel it’s not so different than when I’m at the office. That got me thinking… what will all the new norms be with my ability to work, and our capability to provide a safe working environment to our members at Collective Ventures?

As an owner of a co-working & collaborative space in Downtown Ft. Lauderdale, FL… I have been struggling with the thought of what the future of my business would be post Covid. We’ve been closed for 3 months, and our members have been focused on their health and families as they navigate this new normal. This new normal may impact my business significantly if no one wants to come back for months or longer. What can we do to pivot, how do we navigate WFH (Work From Home) as a co-working space, and how do we still remain a resource for our members?

For now, figuring out how to work from home effectively has become a challenge for some, but a success story for others. Implementing any large change to your life or business is a daunting task. One of my first companies was an EMR software that would enhance a Physician’s ability to manage medical records electronically and make their lives much easier. Implementing the solution and the ramp up time for staff to learn how to use the product took time. It’s one of the many reasons EMR adoption was so slow.

But because Covid put everyone on notice immediately, we had no choice but to learn how to adapt. Most of us work from home now, often times with our families in tow, and many of us with kids to home school. We don’t have our typical resources, or teams. We end up with many distractions but must function as if nothing was wrong. And here’s the thing… after our own implementation period, we’ve gotten very good at it. Productivity reports from many large companies show no drop in productivity. In fact we are seeing the opposite. Employees are given time to work at their own pace and in their own time slots, and we are seeing better results. Just one caveat… some employees don’t know how to make the distinction between work time and family/self-time, and are overworking. But companies are trying to find balance by providing additional days off, counseling, or other strategies.

So what now with offices?

Many companies are saving Hundreds of Thousands to Millions on their overhead costs yearly. It’s tough to go back. Those funds can be spent to acquire more clients, or increase staff salary. Huge positives to the P&L statements and growth of your brand.

Many companies realize there is no reason to have their employees come to work outside of having some control over them. They believed that if those employees got to work from home, they wouldn’t work. That was proven wrong. This has even increased their efforts to hire virtual assistants and staff, and outsource work to other parts of the country or other countries all together.

The tech finally accommodates this. With a hybrid of Phones/Email/Teams/Slack/Zoom/Citrix or some combo of those utilities, all work can get done. We all have faster internet at home, and even with tethering, we can manage to get by with fast cellular service and the mini computers we call cell phones. It took a bit of getting used to, but we are there now.

Companies that typically show off space like Legal, Financial firms, Creative Agencies are finding a way to work without it. The results are the milestones clients want to see. Not that there is a ping pong table at your office, or the board room has the best tech and is stocked with Fiji water.

Even Law is being practiced over Zoom, and everyone is okay with it. If the Judge is cool with it, who are we to disagree.

Many companies have already taken a long term stance on it. Facebook, Twitter, Google and many others have already opted for WFH forever for the staff that want it. Some like Twitter and others are making it a company wide mandate. Others like Google are providing cash bonuses to work from home so their employees can build out custom home offices.

We’re going to have to get used to this new norm for traditional businesses. Of course hospitality, retail, and a few others will have to go back to business as normal in some capacity. But for many firms, this is life altering. It is going to be tough to work in open space areas with so much uncertainty about our health. Teams will feel comfortable working with each other, although some with trepidation. With so many unknowns about this disease and future iterations of it, we have to find new norms, and we have to think quick.

Commercial property is tanking in most places, and will continue to do so. Rents will become cheaper. Many companies are leaving the city and going into suburbia. There are going to be many new alternatives to choose from. Large spaces will break their space into smaller offices. Retail spaces will become open for more creative companies, and so on.

Boutique offices: I think large companies will opt for smaller boutique offices to use for large meetings, to show off to potential clients and for creative sessions. Saving so much from their old office space will allow them to do more with a smaller space. Add additional screens, and Gigabit internet speeds, additional services staff etc.

Private offices in shared spaces: Co-working spaces like mine will have to adapt to become mini offices for companies instead of open space arenas for the individual or sole proprietor. Those folks for the most part have found new ways to function as they built out their own private offices at home. This can be a great option for companies that have downsized but need dedicated space somewhere.

Timesharing office space: I feel that some companies that have similar offerings may be able to get away with time sharing space. Use it when you land a large client, host large conferences, conduct large think tanks etc. Why pay full price for something you may not use all the time, and your staff won’t want to drive to unless mandated. With shared resources, front desk staff, mailing services etc, this could be an option.

Spaced out options: Some companies may need their staff onsite, and to truly accommodate social distancing they may need much larger spaces. Floors will be available, and I’m sure they will find this option doable.

Our plan:

-Go back to a private office only structure, with a social distanced cafe. -Implement cleaning strategies to ensure the health and safety of our guests. -Look to partner with cities that want to reinvigorate the local small business economy. -Focus on complimentary services that help all our members grow their businesses. -Focus on resources to help invest in our co-workers, and their brands. -Implement all in one tools to help startups function without having to sign up for many services, most of which they may not know how to use, or implement. -Teach our members how to increase efficiency with less. …

So what happens when the world gets back to normal? I don’t think the shift will change that fast. Entrepreneurs are saving money, being more efficient. Office and overhead is not were they want to spend it. Acquiring new clients is. Paying themselves and their staff more money is.

Employees are realizing what matters, spending time with their loved ones, zooming to stay in touch, enhancing their life skills, and picking up new hobbies. They have built out incredible home offices, with all the tools they need at their disposal, but friendly enough to accommodate their kids, pets, or spouse. They are saving a tremendous amount on commuting and eating out, and found ways to become more efficient. I can’t count the amount of my friends that have had new kids, or adopted pets during this quarantine. When we open up, they’ll spend physical time with loved ones, and enjoy the many experiences like dining together, dancing, and the much need travel we’ve been limited to.

As I finish this post, my youngest came up to me sipping his coffee(chocolate milk) and asked me to me to charge his iPad, and help him open up some cookies. How could I refuse. He thinks he’s working like his dad. Looks like I am co-working after all. Just a different set of entrepreneurs and dreamers alongside me. This unfortunate & untimely disease gave us no choice but to implement our new work-routine… and we may be better off for it.

[amcbrooks-blog]

How to travel around (when you don’t have a helicopter)

New expats frequently ask me where the best places are to live in and I always recommend trying to live the same side of town as you work. Scroll down and you’ll understand why. does not have a public transport system as such (it’s all privately owned) but there are many different ways of travelling to and around the city. Here’s the muzungu’s introduction to the different types of transport and a few personal recommendations.

If you’re a regular reader of my blog, you’ll know I’m always up for a new adventure so I’ve tried all the different methods of transport across .

⦁ Walking ⦁ Cycling ⦁ Boda boda motorbikes ⦁ Cars ⦁ Taxis and special hires ⦁ Matatus ⦁ Buses and coaches ⦁ Train ⦁ Helicopter!

Walking in

If you’re within walking distance of where you work, then lucky you! My organisation office was in the spare room of my home for my first few years in Uganda and I was saved the hassle of fighting through ’s traffic. I had no idea how lucky I was!

You wouldn’t think this was in would you? Morning view across the wetlands below Bukasa, Muyenga . A morning walk is the perfect way to start my day

Walking my dogs through the back roads of Bukasa and Muyenga were some of my happiest times in Uganda. Here’s a favourite walk of ours. Once you’re in town however, walking is an altogether different matter.

Pavements along Road are good. Very occasionally the streets are closed to vehicles (this was during the City Festival)

It’s only in the centre of town and around the central business district (CBD) that you will find decent pavements. In other parts of town, pavements may suddenly end without warning (if they exist). Drainage covers may be there today and gone tomorrow so always tread carefully. If you have kids, forget bringing the buggy to . You won’t be able to push it very far.

Cycling in

I know very few expats who dare to cycle on ’s crazy streets. I used to cycle when I lived in London but here we have little awareness of cyclists or their safety. You wouldn’t find me cycling around unless it is down by Lake Victoria or on the quiet hills of Kololo or Nakasero. Save your biking for weekends in Lake Mburo or Fort Portal. (Did you know there is an annual mountain bike tour in Karamoja?)

Boda boda motorbikes

These are undoubtedly the quickest way of getting from A to B and the city couldn’t function without them. Boda boda drivers are our best friends, our Mr Fix It, frequently our saviours – just choose with discretion. They can be a real menace too. Read my blog How to ride a boda boda.

Rush hour boda bodas Jinja Road

If you take a boda boda, do yourself a favour and wear a helmet. Don’t just accept a lift from random guys driving past either. Get to know riders from your local boda boda stage or download one of the ‘ride hailing apps’. I use the Uber app all the time in . Their boda riders are registered and bring you a high quality helmet to wear.

Driving a car in

Lots of people prefer the comfort and privacy of having their own cars. I bought my car from expat friends and enjoyed the independence of it for many years. What I didn’t enjoy were the many hours sweating in traffic jams at Jinja Road. Neither did I appreciate being pulled over by the traffic police for some minor offence they had just cooked up when they spotted a loan muzungu. (They pick on Ugandans too, I know!)

The weirdest occasion was one Christmas Eve when I was driving through the industrial area. The traffic policeman ahead of me motioned me to pull over. “What have I done?” I asked him innocently. He walked around the car.

“I’m pulling you over for having a faulty rear brake light” he said.

“How could you see that when you were standing in front of me?” I asked him.

“For us, we have special powers” came the reply.

Driving in – not for the nervous is a popular post by a former expat.

Taxis and special hires

This is where it gets confusing!

Private cars, like Uber, which we now have in , are called ‘specials’ or special hires.

When a British person like me thinks of a taxi, this is what I see:

Black London taxi cab

Matatus

In however, ask for a taxi (pronounced taxiiiiiii) and someone will point you to a matatu or minibus. The crowded old taxi park in downtown is an experience in itself! It can be pretty intense.

Diary of a Muzungu (plus new mattress!) squeezes into a matatu in the Old Taxi Park

The 12 seater minibus taxis (generally white with turquoise ‘go faster’ stripes) are the cheapest way to get around but the routes can be annoying as you have to go into the centre of town to get out to the other side. People often walk a bit, take a matatu and then take the second one or jump on a boda boda for the last part of their journey.

Matatus are very cheap. There are no price lists, no receipts and no timetable. They have set prices but the conductor (who sits by the sliding door and takes your money) will frequently try and overcharge you if you’re a muzungu. It is inevitable but you will quickly get to know what’s a fair price. Most routes charge 1,000 shillings (equivalent to 20 British pence or 30 US cents). If you’re not sure how much to pay, fellow passengers will usually help you out (and scold the conductor at the same time!) Travel with loose change or small notes if you’re using a taxiiiiiii in .

Matatus are good if you are on a tight budget, have a good book to read and can go to work very early (or arrive home very late). Play with your expensive phone at your peril. Thieves are known to put their hand through taxi windows and snatch phones when you’re stuck in traffic.

British TV presenter Jeremy Clarkson and the Top Gear team drove through . Here they were looking for a way to get out of the old taxi park!

The downside with matatus is that they frequently get stuck in traffic, especially around the taxi park and Clock Tower roundabout. It’s not uncommon to sit for one or two hours without moving. Their drivers are often aggressive. Also, you have to be careful of your belongings on these crowded minibuses as there are lots of cunning pickpockets. One friend was relieved of her laptop in a matatu. She had no idea she was being robbed until she got out of the taxi and opened her bag to see her laptop had been replaced by bricks!

If you are using a taxi upcountry, expect to fit a lot more than 12 people in!

Nairobi’s matatus – famous for their graffiti decor and pumping sound systems – are bigger than Uganda’s vehicle of the same name

Note: Uganda’s matatus are twelve-seater minibuses, slightly different from Nairobi’s matatus which are buses, coaches or ‘coasters’ (slightly smaller than a bus).

Buses and coaches

Within city, Pioneer are the only bus company that I know of. Their buses are new, well-maintained with fixed routes, fixed prices and even tickets! Oh how I wish the city had more of these.

I usually take the Link bus between to Fort Portal

If you want to travel outside , upcountry or across one of Uganda’s borders, buses are safer than matatus,  which have a particularly poor safety record. My preferred bus companies – who I use regularly – are Mash, Link and Jaguar Executive Coaches. Other people also recommend Oxygen, Coast and Modern Coaches.

Train

If you are lucky enough to live in Kireka or Namanve, you can even get the train into town! The downside is that the service is infrequent although it does have a daily timetable and it’s very cheap. Click on the image to read more about ’s commuter train service.

Rift Valley Railways passenger train – early morning view from the train window

I simply love trains. Read about my train travels across East Africa:

On the right track – my first Ugandan train ride

More ‘lunatic’ than express – an epic adventure on Kenya’s (in)famous train to Mombasa

Of romance and railways. A guide to booking Kenya’s Standard Gauge Railway train and a comparison between the train journey and the bus between Nairobi and Mombasa.  

Helicopter

I once crossed Jinja Road by helicopter!

Helicopter pilot David Guy (flying over Murchison Falls in this photo)

When I was a volunteer, I got to know the pilot of the helicopter stationed at International Hospital Muyenga. I begged him for a ride (not thinking there was any likelihood of it).

One morning he called me. “Can you get to the hospital in fifteen minutes? I have to transfer the helicopter to the grounds of the Serena Hotel to pick up a private client. You can hop in if you want to?”

God I was excited – but no sooner had the helicopter lifted off the ground than we were landing again… and that sums up my travel experiences in helicopter!

What’s the muzungu’s preferred way of travelling around ?

These days I’m a big fan of Uber and use them every day I’m in .

I love talking to Uber drivers – everyone has a story

Although Uber isn’t ’s only ride hailing app, it does offer the most flexibility and for tourists and new expats, it’s a recognised brand that you may already have installed on your phone. The system works exactly the same way as it does ‘back home’ but cash is always preferred by drivers. Few of them accept credit cards which is understandable. Very few shops in Uganda accept credit cards – we just aren’t there yet.

View from my mobile office in ! My work day starts once I’m in Uber

What’s great about their service in is that Uber have both cars and boda bodas. When I have time, I’ll take a car. This gives me a chance to schedule my meetings, check my email, do a Facebook update (and do my make-up (!) of course). Uber is my mobile office, regardless of the weather or the heavy traffic. When I’m in a rush, I order an UberBODA from the same app. When I’m in , I won’t get on a boda unless I have my helmet. The great thing with UberBODA is your driver will arrive with a helmet for you to borrow (meaning you don’t have to carry your helmet with you all day long). I love the flexibility this gives me.

What are your tips for travelling around ? If you’re coming to live in Uganda for the first time, read Uganda for beginners – an introduction for new expats.

If you’ve enjoyed this blog, feel free to share it and sign up to my occasional newsletter.

The post How to get around (when you don’t have a helicopter) appeared first on Diary of a Muzungu | Uganda & East Africa Travel Blog.

[chargenovasmash]

Friends in Low Places (Pt. 2)

Of course, the simple job for the girl in the helmet wouldn’t turn out to be as simple as Reyes thought.

Part 1 is here.

Puck wanted to meet in the badlands.

It was never a good sign when they wanted to meet in the badlands.

Especially not when the client hid her face, changed her voice, and he didn’t believe for a second that Puck was her real name. Not to mention the week he’d promised suddenly grew a couple of extra days, and even though the modulators in her helmet hid most of her vocal cues, Reyes could tell when they finally arranged the meeting that she was already annoyed with him.

The Angara called the place Puck’s navpoint brought him ‘Draullir’.

Death caves.

Although appropriate, judging from the rotten egg smell of sulfur and the fresh animal carcasses near the entrance to this particular cave, the name didn’t do much to inspire confidence. Puck, for her part, had taken up a position well inside, in an alcove just before the tunnel opened up into a larger chamber. At a glance, Reyes counted at least two weapons, but he couldn’t exactly expect her to come to the badlands unarmed, could he? Hell, even he was armed, and he let one hand glide quickly over the Predator pistol resting at his hip. Judging from the brisk pace she kept when coming to meet him the second she laid eyes on him, she’d been waiting there for a while.

“That it?”

She was definitely annoyed.

“This is it,” he said, with a curt nod and a pat on the parcel tucked under his arm. Puck, predictably, took a few more brisk steps forward and reached out with one hand, as if he was going to let this prize go without getting his due.

“Ah-ah, credits first.”

The outlaw gave their surroundings a quick glance before opening her omni-tool, and Reyes took the time to check his merchandise. Everything intact, nothing out of place, a surprisingly easy transaction, given the circumstances. He even allowed himself a small sigh of relief at the knowledge that soon, he’d walk out of this foul-smelling cave 750 credits richer.

He drew that sigh back in a moment later, and every one of hairs on the back of his neck stood on end when, instead of the sound of a notification of the incoming credit transfer, the next sound he heard was a distinctly familiar stomach-churning combination of whirrs and clicks.

“Or you can just fucking give it to me.”

Ah, shit.

She had a pistol pointed in his face.

Of course she had a pistol pointed in his face.

“Listen, just take it easy, okay?” He inched away from her, one hand holding onto the parcel for dear life, and the other extended, fingers splayed in a rather pitiful excuse for a shield between the business end of her pistol and himself. As if it would make any difference.

“You don’t want to kill me.”

Puck stood unnervingly still. No nervous trembling, no hint of insecurity that might give him an opening. At least, not that he could see.

Shit. Had she planned this all along? Was she working with someone else, Sloane maybe? Taking him down for going around her and not giving her her cut? Who the hell was she?

“Give me the medicine,” she growled, with only a slight movement to reinforce her stance. It wasn’t much of an opening, if it could be called such a thing at all, but, unwilling to lose out on the credits and unable to see any other option, Reyes decided to take his chances.

He reached forward with his extended hand as quickly as he could and slapped her wrist off to one side, then made a break for it towards the other while drawing his own pistol. Not even two steps in, he was almost blinded by a mess of electrical sparks, and narrowly managed to pull himself to a halt before what looked like a smaller version of a Krogan warlord’s hammer, its coils thrumming and arcing every which way and surrounded by an aura of dark energy, smashed to the ground right where his next step would have been.

As was his luck, presently, he also dropped his gun, which Puck smugly put one foot over before he could secure it again.

Great. Just great. Now she’s a biotic, too? You sure know how to pick ‘em, Vidal.

Once he stabilized himself, he noticed Puck had brought the hammer up to rest on one shoulder, almost mocking him with her ability to even wield such a thing in the first place, and raised her pistol once more.

“Maybe I’ll just break your fucking legs, then.”

Almost involuntarily, Reyes started backing away from her again. To say he wasn’t the least bit scared would’ve been one of his greatest lies, and pretending he wasn’t was proving to be one of his greatest performances.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

Puck kicked his gun behind her, and slowly stalked forward after him.

“Good thing you’re not, then.”

Not what he wanted to hear.

“Give me the medicine.”

Stand your ground. Keep it together.

“I don’t think so.”

This could never end well. Shit. He searched her armored frame, from her boots to that ever-staring helmet, looking for something, anything he could use to his advantage. Everyone had a weakness. There had to be something.

She kept calling the stuff ‘medicine’, not drugs, but if she was sick enough or in enough pain to need that damned tonic so badly, she certainly wasn’t showing it.

Of course.

“You’re…obviously perfectly healthy. It’s not for you, is it? You need it for someone else.”

Biotic energy erupted around her. “Shut your mouth.”

Now we’re getting somewhere.

“That’s exactly what it is, isn’t it? Think about it, Puck…you’re going to run out eventually. I’m your best bet for a steady supply and you know it. Kill me, or cut ties with me, and good luck getting anyone else to deal with you.”

His heart raced as his back hit the cold rock wall, and Puck had only to close the remaining distance. If she weren’t biotic, he may have been able to overpower her and escape, but as it were he ran lower and lower on options with each step she took forward.

There. He’d have never noticed if she wasn’t right in front of him, but she held her pistol tightly enough that she trembled now. His words had struck a nerve, and she was starting to show it.

Time to pull out the big guns. Figuratively, of course. Reyes scolded himself for a moment for only thinking to bring a pistol in the first place.

“You do this, and you’re killing whoever you think you’re saving.”

Almost painful silence followed. Sweat dripped down his forehead, and his heart pounded in his ears. What the hell was she waiting for? His only way out was through her. There was nothing stopping her from pulling that trigger, taking that damned medicine, and leaving him to rot in that cave. Since that hardly sounded appealing, he gathered every bit of resolve he could muster, poured it into staring right through that garish green ring, and hoped the mask he made out of it could keep her from seeing just how fucking terrified he was.

Practically an eternity later, Puck sighed.

Then, she let the hand holding her pistol fall to her side.

Reyes could only stare in disbelief that he could possibly be that fucking lucky.

“I…”

The coils on her hammer hummed and arced again as its head hit the floor with a dull thud. Puck’s posture relaxed, although she didn’t take her hand off the hammer, and he got the sense that he might be able to breathe again.

“Look, I can’t pay you, okay? But my…my brother’s sick, and it was either you or Sloane.”

Reyes made a face, just a little offended that she’d thought he’d be easier to intimidate and rob than Sloane.

He wanted to pick up his gun, point it in her face and see how she liked it, maybe put a bullet in her leg for good measure, but…he believed her. Her helmet hid many things, but not the sincerity with which she’d just told him that. It was easy to forget, sometimes, that not everyone came to Andromeda alone. Some people survived the Scourge, the uprising, and made it to Kadara with the people they cared about, people they’d do anything for.

Including tricking a relatively green smuggler into procuring expensive Angaran medicine, and then trying to rob him for it.

He couldn’t really fault her for trying; she needed to find her feet here just as much as he did, only with the added burden of holding someone else up as well. Still, if he’d learned one thing, it was that compassion came with a price, and the revelation that he would not, in fact, be getting paid for this shit meant Reyes was a little short on credits at the moment.

“Well, I can’t just give it to you. Bad for business.”

Her hand clenched around the end of the hammer, and he fully expected to be right back where he was a moment ago, certain he was a dead man. She only sighed, and turned her head away. As her shoulders sank, perhaps in acceptance of her failure, an idea came to him. Probably a very bad idea, given what had just happened. A complete and total gamble with no guarantees and the highest of risks, but also one that, if played right, could have the highest rewards.

“But, you obviously have some…useful skills. Perhaps we can help each other.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Kadara was no paradise for anyone, certainly not someone making a living outside what tenuous law presided over the lawless there. What better advantage could he possibly ask for if shit ever went sour for him again than a faceless biotic soldier wielding a goddamned krogan hammer on his side? And what better way to keep that faceless biotic soldier wielding a krogan hammer on his side than to be the reason her sick brother isn’t sick anymore?

“I let you have this precious medicine of yours, and you make sure my cargo gets where it needs to go without being picked off by scavengers or…whoever else.”

Puck cocked her head to one side, as if silently asking, ‘are you fucking kidding me?’ Reyes almost wanted to ask himself the same thing.

“What, you want me to work for you?”

Did he? He hadn’t really thought about it that much, if he was being completely honest with himself. He’d never been less sure about a bet he’d already committed to in his life.

“Something like that. Unless, of course, you don’t think you can handle it.”

She scoffed.

“Of course I can handle it.”

Nothing but pure dumb luck could explain how this idiotic attempt to save his own skin was actually working.

“So, I do this for you, and you’ll keep getting the medicine for me?”

He nodded.

“Like I said, steady supply. I promise.”

Like some kind of overconfident fool in front of an animal about to eat him, he flashed a far less than subtle wink, and slowly extended the offer of a supine hand.

“So, do we have a deal?”

Puck, in the most glorious sight he’d seen all day, anchored her pistol at her hip, and firmly grasped his outstretched hand.

“Yeah. Deal.”

He wanted to imagine she returned his lopsided smile under that helmet, but the curt nod she gave him would have to do for now. She’d have to take it off sometime, and they were going to be seeing a great deal more of each other in the future.

As the handshake broke, Reyes tucked the parcel back under his arm and gestured towards the still ominous hammer in her other hand.

“Can you, uh…put that thing away now?”

She did, impressively compacting the weapon into a shape that easily anchored at the small of her back.

“That’s better.”

With a deep breath to ready himself, he finally offered her her prize.

“It’s all yours.”

Puck didn’t yank it from him, only calmly pulled it from his hands once he was ready to release it. All things considered, it reassured him that maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

“I…thank you.”

Nothing ever quite melted the heart of a man only out for himself, and for credits, like an earnest statement of gratitude. Reyes let slip a soft, genuine smile as she turned to leave, and immediately felt compelled to say something to counteract it. He was, after all, too short on credits for compassion.

“Don’t make me regret this.”

“You won’t.”