#the only line i visited more stations on this year was the elizabeth line and even that was just cos there was less of it in 2022 lol | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

houseboatisland · 3 years ago

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Is Elizabeth on your island, and if so how has she adjusted after decades abandoned?

She is! And here's my headcanon for her:

Topham Hatt I, (The Fat Director,) had by 1926 accumulated a small fortune as General Manager of the North Western Railway. Reputed as a workaholic, (or boss-aholic,) Topham had sunk considerable amounts of money into his sprawling Wellsworth estate, Topham Hall. Topham was inspired by the undertaking of his sometime friend Sir Robert Walker, the Baronet of Sand Hutton. Walker's estate utilized war surplus one foot and three inch gauge locomotives to carry distinguished guests, agricultural produce, and coal to and bricks deriving from the nearby brickworks of Claxton.

The resulting pet project, the Topham Hall Railway, is where Elizabeth's story begins.

The T.H.R. was laid to what had essentially become the Sudrian "standard narrow gauge," of two feet and three inches. The line started from its Exchange Siding with Wellsworth Station, and made several crossings through the streets of that town's suburbs, before reaching the estate grounds. Hall Station brought passengers within a stone's throw of the mansion itself. Moving on, the line dove into the woods through a magical tree tunnel, with a spur at its opening for the engine and carriage shed. Crossing a brook over a three-span wooden trestle bridge, another station and a few sidings known as "Orchard Station" served the fruit and vegetable orchard. Another mile or so, and the railway stopped again for "Bowler's Station," where the Hatts and any guests could detrain for the estate's cricket pavilion.

Another half a mile, and the railway terminated at the Wellsworth Brickworks. This had been a puny operation before the THR linked up with it, employing only three men or so. After the railway's arrival, it expanded to employ a few dozen, and three more kilns were added. Throughout the Great Depression, Topham kept the Brickworks open and its employees onboard out of his own pocket, even as the bricks accumulated unsold. This was far more humanitarian than his treatment of NWR employees and three of his engines!

The railway had one locomotive, a royal purple Kerr Stuart 'Tattoo' class, named "Little Barford," technically a brother of the Mid Sodor Railway's No. 4, "Stuart." Little Barford arrived also with several v-tipper wagons, a dozen ex-War Department bogie wagons, four-wheel trucks and two ambulance vans. The ambulance vans were thoroughly rebuilt by the estate's woodshop to become an elaborate passenger coach, and a "Dining Car," which was quite identical save for the fewer seats and teeny gas cooker. The passenger coach saw constant use, but the Dining Car mostly sat in the siding at Bowler's Station as it cooked. The line was so short, it never could've done more than boil an egg while moving to timetable!

Capping off this complement of rolling stock was one Sentinel DG4 "Overtype" Steam Lorry, quickly named Elizabeth, after the Duchess of York's newborn daughter. Elizabeth was absolutely coveted by Topham, though he wasn’t exactly a steady hand at the wheel. Elizabeth was kept polished to perfection, even when her work involved carting such grubby loads as soil, clay, and coal. She was in every respect a "father's princess," but she worked dutifully and loved Little Barford like a twin brother. She also learned from her Victorian old master her favorite catchphrase, "We are/are not amused!" depending on the context.

The Second World War began in September 1939, and this national shift in priorities turned Elizabeth’s devil-may-care youth on its head. The Wellsworth Brickworks shuttered as many of its men volunteered or were called up, and housing construction all but ended. Little Barford was kept on at the Hall as the Ministry of Agriculture and Fisheries set to increase production on Topham Hall’s farms. Elizabeth on the other hand was, for the first time, moved away from her only home. As the civilian petrol rationing situation tightened, and private motoring was eventually banned, Elizabeth was suddenly very valuable as a coal-fired road vehicle.

She was commandeered and relocated to Tidmouth Harbour, working night and day as a dockside lorry. This was a very stressful period for her, for she was utterly friendless and out of her element. Although Sodor was never bombed, the routine blackout drills and stories of other ports destroyed, such as Liverpool, took their toll on her mentally. At some point however, she "bucked up." Elizabeth realized she was no longer an aristocrat's toy. For all she knew, Topham had probably forgotten her. As the military lorries she came face to face with daily were almost all of the internal-combustion type, who was to say that when, if ever the war was over, that he'd want her back if he remembered her?

In these circumstances, Elizabeth adopted her more familiar, stiff-upper lip personality. There was no time for polish or quaint little rides to the cricket pavilion, there was a war on! She became grubby, and liked to be grubby. She worked like the devil, and loved that even more. Her posh accent never left her, but she was now in every respect out to be a working girl. Elizabeth would never admit it to herself, but this huge change of self owed much to her upset at being removed from her only home. Did she legitimately like being a working lorry, rather than an estate owner's princess? Certainly she did. Was it an easy and completely voluntary change of character? Of course not. But it was done, and Elizabeth spent many nights assuring herself that it was the right path, the only path to have taken.

1945, the end of the war. Everyone was so jubilant. Elizabeth was cleaned and polished like a crown jewel, decked out with flags and bunting, and allowed to participate in the Tidmouth Victory Parade. In several colour newswreels of the event, you can spot her amid the cascade of tickertape and throngs of soldiers, nurses, longshoremen, civilians, tanks and lorries. It was no doubt a fun day for her, but now she thought a great deal about the future.

The war, which had been everything to her for six years, was over. Soldiers were being demobilized and coming home. Industries were retooling for the postwar world, to make consumer goods rather than several airplanes an hour. The Attlee Government, in conjunction with the devolved Sudrian Parliament established in 1946, had a grand vision for The Mainland and Sodor, where the welfare state for the long-suffering people and machines was vastly expanded, their jobs would be increasingly unionized and their bosses answerable to them, rather than the other way around.

Despite the historically harsh winter into the New Year of 1947, Sudrian workers, bouncing back much quicker than their Mainland counterparts, were delighted with PM Attlee's "New Jerusalem." Tidmouth Harbour was still very busy, as Sodor's biggest gate in and out for the world, and Elizabeth kept calm and carried on as time marched on. She was much busier than she had first feared, and that winter was her time to shine as so many petrol lorries were out of commission with "head colds." Elizabeth convinced herself, somehow, that these thousands and thousands of war surplus petrol lorries wouldn't take over. If so many had taken ill in these conditions, maybe Sodor, or even the whole world, would consider turning back the clock and restoring steam to the roads completely.

She feared and resented petrol lorries something terrible. When the petrol ration which had enabled her life all this time, was finally ended, she was heartbroken. Every worry she had seemed to come to pass all at once. First, the Tidmouth Harbour Authority decided it would be much cheaper to stack its fleet with war surplus lorries, and she was out of a job. Her next owner, a furniture mover, didn't keep her long, and neither did the next, a man who planned to fit her out as a bus and ran out of money.

By 1956, when the now-knighted Sir Topham Hatt I had died, Elizabeth had already been accumulating dust in a shed for two years. She never saw her last owner, who by now had failed to pay rent on her storage. Anopha Quarry, who owned the tumbledown little shack, seized her to make up the difference, but never once came to inspect the lorry who was now their property. Eventually, the Quarry forgot about her too.

It wasn't until 1961, when a little blue puffer deputizing for Toby on the Quarry Tramway carelessly had a coupling rod failure, that she reemerged. She made a heartstopping journey down the line for the necessary spare rod, pins, oilpot and tools in Ffarquhar Sheds, where she stirred up quite a scene, before an even more uncomfortable journey back. Elizabeth's Sentinel heritage thankfully preserved her for the whole ordeal, when Thomas' Driver, then at her wheel, worried that she'd explode and take him with her.

Back into the shed she went after this good deed, for how long, if ever to come out again, she didn't know. Until of course, that same night, a man very like her old Master, named Bertram just like his son whom she had given so many rides through the orchards and to cricket games, came to make a visit...

You can guess the rest :3

Sir Bertram Topham Hatt I was reunited with his childhood friend, and his father's favorite lorry. He immediately sent for her with his own money to be restored, and at once moved her back to Topham Hall, where she was herself reunited with the closest thing to a brother she'd ever had, Little Barford, who this whole time had been working as well as ever, and wondered why no one had ever gone to look for Elizabeth despite all his questions. It had been assumed, wrongly, that Elizabeth had perished on war service. That's how the Tidmouth Harbour Authority wrote it, after they pocketed her sale money! (Sir Bertram was LIVID not to get his hands on the now deceased Harbourmaster responsible.)

Elizabeth is now back to her childhood home hauling farm produce and any visitor willing to get dirty, for she still insists on carrying a bit of grime as a testament to her labours. The Wellsworth Brickworks has reopened, on a much smaller scale, as a "living museum," and Elizabeth takes great joy in carrying clay and coal again. Her, Little Barford, and Sir Bertram are now tighter than they've ever been, and Sir Bertram is the only man allowed to polish her. He's a much more sedated force at the wheel than his father, she notes, and quite often!

We ARE amused to see her <3

#ttte #ttte elizabeth #ttte the fat director #topham hall railway #ttte little barford #ttte worldbuilding #ttte thomas #ttte oc: sir bertram hatt i #tw death

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shiftyskip · 4 years ago

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Joseph “Joe” David Liebgott

The Real Joseph Liebgott:

Joseph David Liebgott was born in Lansing, Michigan in May 17, 1915 to Joseph (Josef) Liebgott Sr and Mary. Joseph Liebgott Sr was of German descent, but he was born in Beresztocz, Hungary. Joe’s mother was Yugoslavian, but was reported as born in either Yugoslavia or Hungary I am not sure which one because records show both. On his father’s side his grandparents were Yugoslavian as well. On his mother’s sider, they seem to be from Hungary. His mother immigrated in 1909, Lieb’s father immigrated in 1912.

Below is a picture believed to be his parents.

He was the oldest of his siblings. He has four sisters: Mary, Elizabeth, Anna, and Barbara, and one brother, Stephen/Steffen . Both of his parents spoke German, which would later help him during the war. His father worked in the auto industry before they moved.

His family soon moved to California around 1927 and his dad became a barber. He was the oldest of his siblings, one brother and four sisters. He was extremely protective of his younger sisters

Liebgott and his siblings attended Catholic schools. This is where learned how to box and played soccer.

After high school, Liebgott drove a taxi around San Francisco. This career was temporary and he soon attended barber college.

He was also previously married before the war. He was married in July 31, 1933 to a woman named Frances. They had one child, David Albert together on February 27, 1934. But the couple soon divorced within a year, and he was living with his family again by 1940, where he was working on a forestry project. Meanwhile his ex-wife and son moved into her family. Here is Joe and Frances:

He eventually became a barber and this was his career when he enlisted at the age of 26. Liebgott chose the paratroopers to be able to make more money to be able to put a down payment on his parents’ house.

Included is a photo of Joe and his mother

He has a Jewish service card, registered under his mother’s name. But his family denied he was Jewish, stating he was a German Roman Catholic. I’ll attach it below (filtered for safety).

In his draft card he is listed as 5 feet and 5 inches tall and was 109 pounds. He had blue-grey eyes and brown hair.

Malarkey remembers meeting Liebgott on his way to Toccoa where they became part of the original Toccoa men. Liebgott was trained under the harsh command of Herbert Sobel.

Liebgott didn’t talk much about the war, so there will be little but other’s words to put here. This is a photo from 1945 in France.

Right before the jump out of the airplane, he put his barber skills to use and gave a few of the men Mohawks.

He would jump out of the airplanes with the rest of the men on June 6, 1944. He received the bronze star for his bravery at Brecourt Manor, where he worked with Winters and several other men, Compton, Guarenere, Wynn, Lipton, Toye, Malarkey, and Ranney to destroy a German Battery firing on Utah Beach on the day of the D-Day Invasion.

He cut off the finger of a German that he had bayoneted and took the man’s ring near Carentan. At Carentan, Ed Tipper was seriously wounded after clearing out a house with Liebgott. Liebgott grabbed Tipper, yelled for a medic, and told Tipper that he’d be okay. Welsh and Lieb dragged Tipper into the street until Welsh could get him back to the aid station.

After Brecourt, Compton recalls a painful memory with Liebgott in his book, Call of Duty, Compton and Liebgott were patrolling along hedges at dusk. Across the way, in another set of hedges were two men. Both were dressed in German ponchos, one was holding a German gun. Assuming that these men were in fact German, he and Liebgott shot the men. Come to find out, when they checked their dog tags, they were not Germans. They were Americans. They had just killed fellow soldiers in friendly fire.

October 5, 1944. Winters sent a few Youmen out on patrol to take an outpost near a windmill. Liebgott and a few other men (James Alley among them) went with Sgt. Youmen. They sent one man ahead, to look out over the dike. The man spotted German machine guns. German voices approached the remaining boys. Lieb called out for the Youman, as we was trailing behind, only to have grenades thrown at him and the other men. Liebgott got minor wounds while James Alley received 32 shrapnel wounds in his left side, stretching from his face down. They’d run into a company of SS.

Liebgott was known for being rough with prisoners, the fighting that followed the injuries wit the SS company was a prime example of this. After Winters led his patrol to attack these Germans, in which during the fighting they lost William Dukeman, 7 Germans surrendered. The most famous story of Liebgott is as follows, in Dick Winter’s words.

As Winters explains in his book, “Tech/5 Joseph D. Liebgott had been slightly wounded in the arm, but he was ambulatory so I assigned him the mission of escorting seven German prisoners to the rear. Liebgott had earned the reputation of being one of Easy’s best combat soldiers, but we had all heard stories that he was very rough on prisoners. Liebgott was one of Easy Company’s “killers,” so I deemed it appropriate to take a bit of caution. When he heard me say, “Take the prisoners back to the battalion command post,” he replied. “Oh, boy! I’ll take care of them.” In his exuberance, Liebgott stood up and paced back and forth and he was obviously very nervous and concerned. I stopped him in his tracks. “There are seven prisoners and I want seven prisoners turned over to battalion.” Liebgott was highly incensed and started to throw a tantrum.Somewhat unsure of how he would react, I then dropped my M-1 to my hip, threw off my safety, and said, Liebgott, drop all your ammunition and empty your rifle.” There was much grumbling and swearing, but he did as I had ordered. “Now,” I said, “you can put one round in your rifle. If you drop a prisoner, the rest will jump you.””

Liebgott got all 7 prisoners back.

Joe would recover in a hospital in England with Webster, but he was back before Bastogne. Here is the record for that:

Name:Joseph D Liebgott Race:White, includes Mexican (White) Rank:Enlisted Man Admission Age:29 Birth Date:abt 1915 Admission Date:Oct 1944 Discharge Date:Nov 1944 Military Branch:Infantry, Parachute Troops or Units Diagnosis:FirstLocation: Ulna, generally; CausativeAgent: Artillery Shell, Fragments, Afoot or unspecified Type of Injury:Casualty, battle Injured in Line of Duty:In line of duty Type of Discharge:Duty Length of service:2 Year(s), 6 Month(s)

In Bastogne, Winters made him a runner to get away from the tension and constant stress of fighting. One story of his service was outside of Foy is the battle of Noville, he and Earl Hale ducked into a barn and took 6 SS officers prisoner. Outside the barn, a shell exploded. One of the SS officers took this as an opportunity and jumped Hale. He slit Hale’s throat. Liebgott instantly shot and killed the officer. He then killed the others. Hale survived miracuously.

At some point, before the end of the war, Liebgott became first platoon’s interpreter-radioman. This was because he could speak some German. But Webster claimed in his book that the German’s didn’t understand his Yiddish.

He was with Webster when they took Hitler’s Nest. They spent their time drinking Hitler’s alcohol together with a few other men. He was living with Headquarters Company while there.

Of course, the war came to an end and everyone who wanted to was discharged.

Over the course of the war, Lieb was injured 3 times and won 3 purple hearts. He refused one because the wound was “just a scratch”. He would receive partial disability for his wounds.

When he returned home, he disappeared for two years. Eventually he was found living in Yuma, California. He didn’t come to reunions, even when offered multiple times. His father simply told the vets “not to mess with him”.

After the war, Liebgott was a barber for a short time. He married again to a woman named Peggy in 1949. They had eight kids together. Making Lieb’s total children come to nine, although he was mostly involved with the last eight. They lived on a barber’s salary, not leaving much room for fun activities but everyone had their basic needs met. He often only had one day a week off and would take his kids to a Long Beach pike, where they would visit an amusement park.

Liebgott liked to bet on the ponies at the racetrack. Every other sunday, him and his boss would take the boss’ airplane down to Mexico.

He is believed to have never contacted anyone from his days in Easy Company. He just wanted to get away from the war.

The Liebgotts divorced in April of 1969. She remarried, but he never did. He was described as really quiet by his granddaughter.

She states, in Marcus Brotherton’s book Company of Heroes (pages 120-121) “His hands looked like a man who worked with his hands, sunspots all over. He absolutely loved his grandkids. he had false teeth that he flipped out of his mouth and smiled, threatening to kiss us with his gums. He was a tickler. He never held babies over his shoulder...because he wanted them to see everything....He didn’t have a lot of money - I’m pretty sure all he had was his veteran’s benefits...He made all of the bikes for the grandkids by scouring thrift stores for dilapidated bikes. He stripped the bikes down to their frame, fixed and assembled them as good as new. He let each grandchild pick the color of new paint for his or her bike....I always knew the specific foods we were going to eat at his house. He had bite-sized candy bars and store brand soda-pop. There was no drinking water in his house. He always lived in rental houses...”

He was very neat, and keep his house and appearance orderly. However, he was always working in the garage, so the house had black smudges from the dirt on his hands.

However, Liebgott was not perfect. While he hated the Nazis, he was also seen as a bigot, maybe even harsher. Rhonda explained that he threw the n word around like it wasn’t a big deal. He blamed the wrong goings of the world on different ethnic groups. Rhonda started seeing a guy from El Salvador, he asked if her partner “even spoke English?”

As he grew older, Lieb got sicker. He eventually lost the use of one of his legs from a hernia. He was confined to a chair and hated any new technology. He was stuck in a wheelchair, angry when he would hit a cabinet.

Lieb did not talk about his military career until towards his end. He would spend time with his son Jim, watching tv talking about the war during a war movie. He would talk about the war when he was mad, possibly angry at himself for doing a lot of killing and other things that people his age shouldn’t have to do.

In 1992, Liebgott developed a tumor in his neck, near his windpipe that would cause a lot of pain. Jim took him to the hospital on Father’s Day. Shortly later, on June 28, 1992 Liebgott died. He was against a funeral and just wanted to be cremated, so his family did as he wished. They still have his ashes and letters and the Toccoa book.

#Real Life Band of Brothers #real band of brothers #joe liebgott #joseph liebgott #band of brothers #Band of Brothers fandom

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introvertguide · 4 years ago

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Saving Private Ryan (1998); AFI #71

The next film on the list is one of the best films of any genre, Saving Private Ryan (1998). This is what I consider the best war film of all time despite how overwhelming it is to watch. Maybe it is because it is so difficult to watch, since the movie was nominated for 11 Academy Awards and received five trophies. Because of the ensemble cast and almost complete lack of women, the film was never going to garner much in the way of acting awards. Like the soldiers who they hoped to portray, these actors shouldn’t have expected much individual recognition. This movie affected me greatly, and I would like to delve into that after going through the story line.

MAJOR SPOILER WARNING!!! BECAUSE OF THE NATURE OF THE FILM, EVERYTHING THAT COULD POSSIBLY BE REVEALED AS FAR AS PLOT IS GIVEN AWAY BELOW!!!

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In the present day, an elderly man visits the Normandy Cemetery with his family. At a tombstone, he falls to his knees in anguish. The establishing shots showing the mass of grave stones is overwhelming from the get-go. The movie transitions from the graveyard to a landing boat at the battle of Normandy. Be prepared because it is about to get rough.

On the morning of June 6, 1944, American soldiers land at Omaha Beach as part of the Normandy invasion. Everything goes bad immediately as machine guns and mortars literally tear the landing soldiers to shreds. Soldiers are screaming for their mothers as they die on the beach. There is no going back into the ocean so the soldiers have run into the machine gun fire. Captain John H. Miller (Tom Hanks) of the 2nd Ranger Battalion leads a breakout from the beach that makes it through to the German encampment. It is about 15 minutes of carnage and nobody will blame you if you want to forward through this until the action cools down. Elsewhere on the beach, a dead soldier lies face-down in the bloody surf; his pack is stenciled Ryan, S. It is at this point I would recommend taking a breather if you need one.

Continuing on, we are shifted to Washington, D.C., at the War Department (keep an eye out for Bryan Cranston with one arm), where General George C. Marshall learns that three of the four sons of the Ryan family were killed in action within a short time of one another. Daniel Ryan in New Guinea shortly before D-Day, Sean Ryan at Omaha Beach, and Peter Ryan at Utah Beach: all dead with letters arriving the same day for their mother. The fourth son, James Francis Ryan, is with the 101st Airborne Division somewhere in Normandy. After reading Abraham Lincoln's Bixby letter, which is meant to comfort grieving parents, aloud, Marshall orders Ryan found and brought home.

Three days after D-Day, Miller receives orders to find Ryan and bring him back. He chooses seven men from his company for the job—T/Sgt. Mike Horvath (Tom Sizemore), Privates First Class Richard Reiben (Edward Burns) and Adrian Caparzo (Vin Diesel), Privates Stanley Mellish (Adam Goldberg) and Daniel Jackson (Barry Pepper), T/4 medic Irwin Wade (Giovanni Ribisi) and T/5 Timothy Upham (Jeremy Davies), an interpreter from the 29th Infantry Division. The group moves out to Neuville where they meet a squad of the 101st engaged against the enemy and both Ted Danson and Paul Giamatti show up. THe group searching for Ryan bump into a stranded French family who try to give over their children but a German sniper breaks up the party. Caparzo is killed by a German sniper, who is then killed by Jackson (who makes the most amazing shot that legends are made of). They locate a Private James Ryan (Nathan Fillion), only to learn that he is James Frederick Ryan. On the point of giving up, the Captain starts asking random passing soldiers and learns that Ryan is defending an important bridge in Ramelle.

Near Ramelle, Miller decides to neutralize a German machine gun position at a derelict radar station, despite his men's misgivings. It does not go well and the medic, Wade, is killed in the process. They take a German soldier that they name Steamboat Willie (Joerg Stadler) who gives up willingly and pleads for his life. The men are angry and want to kill the soldier since they can’t take any extras, so, at Upham's urging, Miller frees the surviving German soldier. Losing confidence in Miller's leadership, Reiben declares his intention to desert, prompting a confrontation with Horvath, who threatens to shoot him. Miller defuses the standoff by disclosing his civilian career as a high school English teacher in a small Pennsylvania town.

At Ramelle, they find Ryan (Matt Damon) among a small group of paratroopers preparing to defend the key bridge against an imminent German attack. Miller tells Ryan that his brothers are dead, and that he was ordered to bring him home. Ryan is distressed about his brothers, but is unwilling to leave his post. Miller combines his unit with the paratroopers in defense of the bridge. He devises a plan to ambush the enemy with two .30-caliber machine guns, Molotov cocktails, anti-tank mines, and improvised satchel charges made from socks. It is basically suicide so the bridge is wired to explode in case it can’t be held.

Now is a time to take a breather if you need one because it is about to get bad again. Elements of the 2nd SS Panzer Division arrive with two Tiger tanks and two Marder tank destroyers, all protected by infantry. The small American group holds off the force the best they can, Although they inflict heavy damage on the Germans, nearly all of the paratroopers, along with Jackson, Mellish and Horvath, are killed. It turns out that Steamboat Willie joined the group and he personally kills Mellish with a Nazi youth knife (it is horrible) and shoots Miller Captain Miller as he attempts to blow up the bridge. Miller crawls to retrieve the bridge detonator, and fires ineffectually but defiantly with his pistol at an oncoming tank. As the tank reaches the bridge, an American P-51 Mustang flies overhead and destroys the tank, after which American armored units arrive to rout the remaining Germans. With the Germans in full retreat, Upham emerges from hiding and shoots Steamboat Willie dead, having witnessed him shooting Miller, but allows his fellow soldiers to flee.

Miller tells Ryan to “earn this” before dying from his injuries. As the scene transitions to the present, Ryan is revealed to be the veteran from the beginning of the film, and is standing in front of Miller's grave expressing his gratitude for the sacrifices Miller and his unit made in the past. Ryan asks his wife if he was worthy of such sacrifice, to which she replies that he is. The final scene shows Ryan saluting Miller's grave and fades to the American flag gently waving in the breeze.

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I really have a hard time getting through this film without pausing and taking a breather. I saw the film in the theater when I was 18, so my friends and I were all around the age that these soldiers would have been that rushed that beach and retook France. It was truly terrifying. Now I am old and have back issues, so I wouldn’t be put on a front line, but the kids that I work with and care for would be the exact age to be caught in a draft and that scares me even more. The creative ways in which man finds to kill one another is the greatest threat to humanity.

The first two times I saw the film, I did not realize that it was the same German soldier that the group had captured who eventually killed many of the group we were following. It really changes the message in the end. I had thought that Captain Miller had showed his humanity showing mercy, but it turns out that this mercy is misplaced. Now it seems like Spielberg is saying that neither humanity, nor religion, nor innocence, nor skill, nor even intelligence can save a man in the heat of battle. The only way to live is to watch the back of your group and protect each other like family.

There was a little bit of a travesty that occurred at the Academy in early 1999, because this film lost out in the Best Picture category to Shakespeare in Love. This is the same year that also saw Saving Private Ryan, The Truman Show, Life is Beautiful, Elizabeth, and The Thin Red Line. There had to be something behind that because I wouldn’t consider the winner even in the top 5. Shakespeare in Love is considered one of the worst Best Picture winners along with Crash and The Artist. Oscars are not everything and this movie is one of the best examples of this.

When I say that some of the scenes from this movie are difficult, I really do mean it. There was a hotline set up for people who have PTSD that was triggered by the film. One of the actual members of the 101st Airborne, Major Richard Winters, was consulted about the occurrences surrounding the attack. He said that it brought up many memories that he had worked hard to suppress because he had been taught that war veterans couldn’t express the psychological pain of battle. He also said that it was an important film that revealed what war was really like.

On Veteran’s Day in 2001 and 2004, ABC aired the film uncut with limited commercial interruptions. Living in California, I was able to watch the film on both of those occasions and remember getting my girlfriend at the time to watch in 2004. The film has become like a memorial to Americans lost in the European Campaign during WW2, so I treat viewing as a badge of honor and understanding, no matter how difficult it is to watch.

This film is a pretty easy answer when it comes to the standard questions for the most part. Does this film belong on the AFI top 100? Of course. It is the new benchmark for which all American war films will be judged. It is historically accurate, it is beautifully shot and directed, and it leaves a lasting impression far longer than just about any movie I have seen. Would I recommend it? This one has an age warning. It is not appropriate for young children because the first and last battle scenes are nightmare fuel. Even worse, they are apparently very realistic. It is hard to recommend something that is so scarring, but it will keep people for glorifying battle. It is horrific and should be avoided as much as possible. And that is a lesson that I believe this movie teaches better than any other. So please give this movie a watch and feel free to take a break if you need it.

#tom hanks #saving private ryan #d-day #veterans #best director #1998 #war films #steven spielberg #normandy #introvert #introverts #matt damon #vin diesel #bryan cranston

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minervacasterly · 4 years ago

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MARGARET TUDOR: The Queen Who Thrust Herself into the Political Chessboard

The Spanish Princess is showing Margaret in a broader light than other historical dramas where she is distorted and merged with her younger sister, shown for a brief period of time or is practically non-existent. Margaret’s life was a never ending roller coaster. Unlike what was shown in the first episodes of part 2 of TSP, the real Margaret never broke decorum. She certainly would have never disrespected her husband in front of his lords. However, she did have a strong will and was determined (at all costs) to protect her young.In hindsight, she could have chosen for a better husband – or a better route – to keep her regency or, share power with her surviving son’s distant Stewart cousin.

Her marital problems aside, including her son’s mandate to remain married to her third husband (in spite of his betrayal), the last four years of her life, were spent in safe retreat. She wasn’t actively involved in government, since her son was now of age. But she was nevertheless happy to be there by her son’s side, should he need her advice.

Although Margaret’s death is a stark contrast to the two most controversial of Henry VIII’s queens, his first two wives, Katherine of Aragon and Anne Boleyn; her end by no means was her beginning. Today, mourners can visit the tomb of Katherine of Aragon. Though not a saint, she has become a cult figure. The same goes for Anne Boleyn, who’s treated as the equivalent of the Virgin Mary for bearing the golden savior of England, Queen Elizabeth I. Every year, hundreds of visitors pay their respects to these women’s tombs. One of the most popular tourists spots for Tudor history buffs is Hever Castle, St. Peterborough Cathedral, and Hampton Court Palace. The first is the Boleyn homestead, where Anne, her sister Mary and brother George grew up. The second is the place where Katherine is buried. And the last is Henry VIII’s majestic palace.

Although at the time of their deaths, it was almost taboo to say a good word about Katherine of Aragon and Anne Boleyn – not to mention that since their marriages had been annulled before their deaths, they didn’t receive burials befitting their stations. Yet, as time went on, their popularity grew. This reverence didn’t reach Margaret Tudor. Death for her was truly the end of her journey. Margaret deserves equal admiration as all of Henry VIII’s wives and her younger sister. She was a woman with a will of iron who lived through many tragedies and survived many intrigues – including those of her own doing when these didn’t go as planned. Her last demands indicate that she wished that the last of the bad blood that existed between the King and her second husband, the Earl of Angus would be over. She also asked that her possessions be handed over to her daughter, Lady Margaret Douglas. She never got an answer. She died at Methven Castle on the 18th of October 1541. She was buried at the Carthusian Charterhouse in Perth in Central Scotland. Ironically, despite having enjoyed a good relationship with her son James V and his second wife, Mary of Guise; her son didn’t fulfill her wishes. He chose instead to appropriate himself of all his belongings.

As the religious wars continued to divide Western Europe, Calvinists in Scotland decided to give the biggest middle finger to the Catholic faction by desecrating the tombs of past kings and queens, and saints. Just like their predecessors, over a thousand years before when they burned pagan sites, or their Catholic enemies who burned Maya and other precious historical jewels in the “New World”, in 1559 Calvinists, professing the true faith, opened Margaret’s tomb, destroyed her burial site and burned her body until there was nothing left.

Was it fair?

No.

It’s history. It can’t be rewritten or undone. Only reflected upon. Margaret’s descendants still sit on the English throne. The first Stuart King to sit on the English throne descended from both her children, James V and Lady Margaret Douglas. James VI of Scotland became the I of England and Ireland in March 1603 after Queen Elizabeth I died and her privy councilors chose him as their next ruler. This was in direct violation to her brother, Henry VIII’s instructions which stated that if neither of his offspring, Edward VI, Mary I and Elizabeth I had any legal issue of their own then the next in line would be the heirs of Mary Tudor, Queen Dowager of France and Duchess of Suffolk (Margaret’s younger sister) and Charles Brandon. But at this time, Elizabeth had long shown that she did not care for wills and naming heirs, so it was up to the politicians to name who’d suit them best. While Margaret is a rising star in historical fiction and romance novels, she still remains obscure. She’s largely seen as a side-character or an auxiliary figure when her actions show that she was much more than that. Prior to Flodden, Margaret tried to convince her husband not to ride to Flodden based on a dream where she saw he was murdered. After his death, Katherine of Aragon, feeling genuine sympathy for her sister-in-law, sought to reestablish a peace between their adoptive countries. Margaret was not just a widow but Scotland’s Regent. Ruling in their son and husband’s names respectively, Margaret and Katherine started to work together to seek a resolution. Unfortunately, Henry VIII had other plans. It’s not known how Margaret felt about Katherine following the death of her first husband, or when she and Angus sought asylum in England after their failed coup against John Stewart, the Duke of Albany (who’d been chosen to replace her as her son’s regent). There are no letters that express any ill will between the two women. Yet, her actions speak of a possible resentment. In Alison Weir’s biography of her daughter, Lady Margaret Douglas, The Lost Tudor Princess, she points out that while her youngest sister remained a fervent supporter of Katherine until her death, Margaret chose to side with Anne Boleyn. Margaret’s daughter was in England under her uncle’s care. Though a good friend of Princess Mary, her livelihood was in her uncle’s hands. Margaret probably thought that if she sided with Katherine, Henry VIII would take it out on his niece. Or it could be a case, where with her daughter’s welfare and future in mind, Margaret still felt a little resentment over what happened at Flodden. Either way, Margaret worked endlessly to be the mediator she could not be during the events leading up to Flodden. Like her mother, she possessed a silent strength that is often ignored when studying women of these period. The modern proverb of “silent women don’t make history” isn’t only wrong, it’s a narrow view of history. All kinds of women make history. Sometimes actions speak louder than words. Margaret Tudor’s life is a clear example of that.

Sources:

Fatal Rivalry: Flodden, 1513: Henry VIII and James IV and the Decisive Battle for Renaissance Britain

Tudors vs Stewarts: The Fatal Inheritance of Mary, Queen of Scots by Linda Porter

Tudor. Passion. Murder. Manipulation: The Story of England’s Most Notorious Royal Family by Leanda de Lisle

The Lost Tudor Princess: The Life of Lady Margaret Douglas by Alison Weir

Game of Queens by Sarah Gristwood

Images: Georgie Henley as Queen Margaret Tudor of Scotland in The Spanish Princess Part 2; posthumous sketch of Margaret Tudor, and Methven Castle where Margaret Tudor died.

#Margaret Tudor #The Spanish Princess #History #Scotland #England #Flodden #dailytudors

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morningfears · 5 years ago

Text

Back Home

Rating: PG-13 (Blink and you’ll miss it homophobia, some swearing)

Summary: Calum and Elizabeth are going to Hangout with Michael and Crystal in Gulf Shores, Alabama. However, they’ve decided to make a stop in Elizabeth’s hometown, first. Calum gets to see firsthand what growing up in the middle of nowhere was like and, while he’s at it, ask her parents for her hand in marriage.

Word Count: 7k

Calum watched as sunlight filtered through the thick growth of trees lining the road and into the car, illuminating Elizabeth’s face as they drove along a seemingly deserted back road in some tiny Alabama town he didn’t remember the name of. Her eyes, a beautiful green that he hoped their children would someday inherit, were hidden beneath a pair of sunglasses she’d stolen from him but he could clearly see how she was feeling from the smile on her lips and the way that she relaxed in the driver’s seat.

They were on their way to her parents’ house, located in an even tinier Alabama town, where they planned to spend a few days before joining Michael and Crystal in Gulf Shores for the Hangout Festival. It was a new experience for him, he’d never been to either her hometown or Hangout, but he found himself looking forward to it. He found himself looking forward to the blistering heat (“It’s actually not that bad yet,” she’d told him as they packed their bags, “it’s only hit ninety once this week.”) and the solitude she’d described when telling him about growing up in the middle of the woods. But his excitement was nothing compared to hers.

Elizabeth had always been vocal about her dislike of southern politics, southern hypocrisy, southern weather (“It can’t make up it’s damn mind! One day, it’s eighty degrees and sunshine. The next, it’s thirty and you’ve got snow flurries. But maybe that’s just April,” she’d once said, and Calum had never forgotten it), and her own accent - one that Calum could hear but just barely - but he knew she missed certain things. She missed the food - her mother’s, specifically - and some of the people. She missed being able to smile at someone as she walked down the sidewalk and not get a funny look in return. She missed manners, being expected to say hello and ask how someone was doing when she walked into a shop, and not getting a dirty look if she called someone over the age of thirty ma’am.

But, more than anything, she missed her family.

Though Calum and Elizabeth had been together for nearly three years, he’d only met her parents once. It was at her college graduation, less than a year into their relationship, and the meeting was fine. Her parents, while polite, didn’t exactly love him right off the bat. They hadn’t cared how well the band was doing, that he’d made a career out of music and that it was going well, nor did they care about how much he already loved their daughter. He was different, a musician that didn’t look anything like the sweet southern boy her mother had always imagined she’d marry, and that was enough for them to write him off as a novelty.

They imagined that Elizabeth would grow tired of Calum after a while, that she’d get tired of the long, lonely nights while he was away on tour, and that she would begin to see things from their point of view. They imagined that she would tire of California, that her southern roots were planted just deep enough, and that she would tire of Calum and return home to them. But, so far, she hadn’t.

And Calum desperately hoped that she never would.

While her parents had accepted her desire to stay in California and to keep Calum in her life - her mother even liked him, enough to bake him a loaf of bread that apparently no one else in her family liked - there was a bit of a rift. Calum’s parents traveled to see him every so often (and he packed up to see them when he could) but Elizabeth’s parents didn’t like to travel. She told him once that her mother was so afraid of flying that even a Xanax couldn’t calm her enough to get on a flight and that she was such an awful car passenger that a twenty-nine hour drive, even. with regular stops, might actually kill her. They’d only been to California once, to see her graduate, and that had been such an ordeal that Elizabeth never asked again.

Her schedule, while freer now that she’d finished school, was less flexible than his own. She had work, a job that required her to stay in Los Angeles most of the time, and that made going home (as well as joining him on tour) next to impossible. She went home for big holidays, Christmas and Thanksgiving, but even that was starting to become difficult as she and Calum began to intertwine their lives.

She hadn’t been home since November - they’d spent Christmas with his family in Australia - and was beyond homesick. Most of the meals she made were recipes her mother talked her through over FaceTime so when Michael and Crystal asked him if they would want to join them for a week in Gulf Shores, Calum jumped at the opportunity to surprise his homesick girlfriend. He worked with her boss - a lovely woman from, coincidentally, Georgia, who had become more like a mentor than a boss - to get her a week of vacation. He called her mom and asked her if it would be alright for them to stay for a weekend before they headed to the beach (of course, she was so excited that she cried and Calum didn’t quite understand half of her words through her accent but he felt the love). And he managed to keep their final destination a secret until they landed in Mobile.

Just before they landed in Mobile, when the pilot announced their destination, the look on Elizabeth’s face was more than enough to make Calum’s year. He took a picture of it, just to remember the look of awe and love she’d given him, before he kissed her and confirmed that they were headed to see her parents. He told her, as they navigated the airport and headed toward the car rental, that they would be spending the weekend with them before heading down to Gulf Shores to spend a few days exploring and experiencing Hangout.

He was certain the smile hadn’t disappeared since.

Although he’d offered to drive, Elizabeth refused to let him behind the wheel. Calum normally drove on their outings - mostly because he was a much calmer driver than her and knew how to handle Los Angeles traffic without having a minor panic attack - but she’d been insistent. The closest airport to her parents’ house was in Mobile and the quickest route took them through a maze of backroads that, according to her and Michael (who had gotten lost on more than one occasion during his trips down south), didn’t appear on either Apple or Google Maps. Elizabeth, however, knew the route like the back of her hand and was comfortable navigating the winding curves and deserted country roads.

“Did you go to Mobile a lot as a kid?” Calum asked, his voice breaking the silence for the first time since they’d left the city limits. He’d been content to just look, to soak it all in, and apparently, so had she. It was like she was recommitting the entire route to memory and he didn’t want to disturb her. However, he was curious and, with her, he never let his questions go unasked.

“Not really,” she hummed, glancing over at him for a moment before returning her gaze to the road beyond the windshield. “It’s almost a three hour drive. It wasn’t a big deal to make the trip but it was more special occasion, you know? We came down here to get dresses for formals and, like, my prom dress. I came with my grandparents some because my paw-paw went to the doctor down here. He took me to Hot Topic for the first time and my mom swears I haven’t been normal since.”

Calum grinned at that, both at the casual use of ‘paw-paw’ (something he knew she hated saying because of the obviousness of it’s origin and the way it seemed to draw out her accent) and the mental image of a pre-teen Elizabeth exploring Hot Topic for the first time. There were pieces of her, bits of her past, that he had never seen. They were never intentionally hidden, it wasn’t as if she locked them away and refused to show them to him, but they were just things that didn’t really come up in the course of their daily lives. Memories of childhood, old habits that had long since been forgotten, seemed to return to her as they drove through the curved roads and he was looking forward to getting know who she was before she moved to LA.

The drive passed far quicker than either imagined it would. Calum watched Elizabeth’s face more often than he watched the scenery pass them by but both were equally captivating. She pointed out certain buildings, little shops or restaurants, that she’d visited as a child. She informed him when they left one town and entered another. She made him promise they could stop by a diner, a little building that looked like it could only fit about five people at a time, on their way back to Gulf Shores (they would make the return trip, the same way they��d just come, and drive through Mobile to get there), as well as made him promise they could stop and get ice cream at a farmer’s market that would apparently ruin his desire to eat any other ice cream ever again.

It was endearing, seeing her so excited for such small things, and Calum decided that he would do whatever she wanted, stop wherever she wanted, just to see the carefree smile she’d been sporting since they stepped out of the airport remain on her lips.

The closer they got to her hometown, the more relaxed she grew in the driver’s seat. She smiled as she pointed out her high school (“It sucked. I hated every moment of it, but it still feels nice seeing the building, you know?”) and the one gas station in her hometown. Calum smiled as he imagined her driving these very roads as a teenager, singing along to All Time Low and wholeheartedly agreeing with the pop punk standard of needing to leave her hometown. He marveled at the lack of traffic lights, at the lack of buildings, and grew more and more astonished the farther they got from her high school. She’d told him she grew up in the middle of nowhere, far away from civilization, but he thought she was joking. However, as he realized that he could count on one hand the number of buildings they’d seen since leaving the city limits of the town closest to her home, he realized that that wasn’t the case at all.

But it was nice, in an odd sort of way. It felt serene, like a quiet place where you could disconnect from the world, and Calum wondered what it was like to grow up here.

“It was miserable,” Elizabeth answered candidly when he asked. “The nearest grocery store is twenty minutes away, if you’re speeding, and they don’t even have half of what you need. It’s just the essentials, really, like milk and bread and stuff. If you wanted anything good, like ice cream or candy or snacks, you’d have to go to Walmart. The closest Walmart, the only place where you can get stuff like dish soap and good shampoo - well, as good as Dove is, I guess - and toothpaste that doesn’t cost six bucks a tube is forty-five minutes away. The nearest hospital is an hour away. Same with the nearest mall, movie theater, bowling alley… The list goes on. There wasn’t much to do here as a kid. You just kind of exist, you know? I played outside al to as a kid. Shocking, I know,” she added, grinning in Calum’s direction as she caught the surprised look on his face.

He couldn’t imagine Elizabeth, the girl who hated her hands being dirty more than anything else, playing outside in the southern heat. He almost asked what her neighbors were like, what the other kids in her neighborhood were like, when she added, “I didn’t have neighbors so I just kind of had to entertain myself. It was lonely and boring.”

Calum watched as she focused on a turn she was making, down a road just off the main highway, and he imagined that they were getting closer to her parents’ house. “Do you miss anything about it?” he asked, his voice soft as he watched her bring one hand up to play with the butterfly pendant laying against her skin. “Other than your family and the dogs, of course.”

“Of course,” she laughed as she glanced at him and smiled. She paused for a moment, as if to think about it, before she shrugged. “Not really,” she hummed as she returned her gaze to the road ahead. “I mean, I miss the food but if I really want it, I can make most things myself. The only thing I haven’t mastered yet is collards and I think that’s just because I can’t get good ones in LA. I miss the quiet sometimes, mostly when I’m trying to sleep, and being able to see the stars but I love living in an actual city with things to do and places to go. Yeah, some stores are still twenty minutes from our house but if I really need something, I can get it from somewhere else. And, I mean, I love the diversity of the city. I didn’t know anything about other cultures, about other people, when I moved to LA and it’s been amazing to see it all and to see how open everyone is to new things. I mean, yeah, I hate some things about LA and it’s a different world for me, for sure, but, at the end of the day, it’s home now.”

Calum nodded his understanding at that. He realized that she loved being surrounded by options. She loved having the ability to get in the car and go get coffee or just go to Target if she felt like it and her hometown wasn’t exactly the most stimulating place he’d ever found himself. Everything looked as if it had seen better days, decades ago, and he didn’t begrudge her not wanting to return for good. However, he was glad that he was getting the opportunity to at least spend a weekend in the middle of nowhere with her and that joy was only magnified as they approached a small dirt road that he quickly realized housed her parents’ home.

“Am I going to get to hear your southern accent?” he asked, an excited lilt to his voice as they drove down a tree lined dirt road, careful not to hit the rocks and tree limbs that cluttered it. “It’s so faint now,” he reminded her. She, like him, had adapted to Los Angeles and he accent had faded. It was still there, more so than his own, but it only truly appeared when she was angry or excited or exceptionally tired and unable to control her speech pattern. It was faint and Calum missed it. He thought it was cute, he liked the way it sounded when she said his name, but he knew it had been a source of annoyance for her when she first arrived in the city. He also knew that she herself wasn’t very fond of it so she didn’t lament its loss at all.

“Probably. At least, it’ll be thicker here than it is in LA,” she confirmed with a sigh, not at all pleased by the thought. “I try not to control my voice so much around my family. I just talk, I guess. But I still don’t get why you like it so much. It’s gross. And, besides, you’ll get tired of the southern twang real quick with my family. I’ll provide translation services if necessary.”

Calum laughed at the deadpan comment and nodded his appreciation. She knew how much trouble he had understanding her mother sometimes (usually when she was angry and ranting during a phone call) and had warned him that the rest of her family - with the exception of her brother - was worse. The accents grew thicker and thicker, harder and harder to understand, and she herself sometimes found it difficult to navigate a conversation. But Calum was looking forward to seeing her at ease among members of her family and grew excited as he spotted a comfortable white house looming in the distance.

“Here we are,” she informed him with a smile, her cheeks round and pink (from the heat or excitement, he couldn’t tell) and her teeth on display, as she caught sight of the cars parked out front. “Holy shit, everyone is here.”

Everyone seemed to be an understatement. There were several cars, all parked in front of her parents’ home, and Calum couldn’t even begin to guess who had appeared to greet her. Her mother had told him that her brother, his wife, and their children would be there to greet them. He also imagined that her nana would be there. However, he couldn’t fathom who else her mother could have invited. But, as Elizabeth put the car in park, a horde of teenagers, all in their mid to late teens, rushed out of the front door, down the steps, and swarmed the car.

“Lizzie, you’re home,” one girl with blonde hair and braces cheered as Elizabeth climbed out of the car. Though she looked to be about sixteen, she stood several inches taller than Elizabeth and dwarfed her as she pulled her into a hug. “I missed you! I have so much to tell you. I got a car! I can drive now. And a boyfriend! You went to high school with his brother, Austin.”

“Let her go, May,” another of the girls, this one shorter than Elizabeth and decidedly the oldest of the group, urged as she shoved her arms between the pair, “I want to hug her.” She wrapped her arms around Elizabeth’s waist and pouted up at her as she said, “Lizzie, I start college in August. I’m going to LSU and I don’t know what to do. Help me!”

“She’s my aunt!” A high pitched voice squeaked as a short girl with glasses and braces that bore a clear family resemblance to Elizabeth shoved through the others. “Aunt Lizzie!”

“Hey, guys,” she laughed, clearly overwhelmed by the affection as she struggled to fully climb out of the car. “It’s good to see you all, too. What are y’all doing here?”

“We waited to have maw maw’s birthday party today so we could celebrate that, you being home, and me graduating high school all at once. Oh my god, is that a boy? Lizzie has a boyfriend!” the second girl, whose name Calum still didn’t know, yelled as she caught sight of him climbing out of the car. He offered her a smile, amused by the apparent novelty of Elizabeth bringing someone home, and waved at her before he reached back into the car to grab his bag. “Lizzie’s never brought anyone home before,” she told Calum as he walked around the car to stand at Elizabeth’s side. “We thought she was a lesbian but just didn’t want to tell us.”

“Oh my god, Haley,” Elizabeth groaned as she reached out and nudged the shorter girl away from her. “Go away. All of you, go inside. I’ll be there in a second.” When the girls turned and began running back toward the house, Elizabeth groaned and turned to bury her face in the crook of Calum’s neck. “Jesus, fuck. This is why I never brought anyone home,” she deadpanned as she glanced up at him from the corner of her eye. “I’m going to go ahead and apologize for everything that’s about to happen.”

Calum, who was struggling to hold back his laughter, shook his head at her statement. “Don’t worry about it,” he assured her with a smile as he leaned in to press a kiss to the crown of her head. “Family can be embarrassing but, at the end of the day, they love you and want to see you happy.” He paused for a moment, thinking about the comment the girl had made, before he asked, “Before we go in, they don’t know you’re bi, do they?”

“No,” she sighed as she removed herself from his grasp and opened the back door to grab her own bag from the seat. “They… I don’t know. I can’t tell them and, I mean, right now, it doesn’t matter. But, no. There are a lot of things they don’t know about me. I didn’t realize you’d be thrown to the wolves on the very first night so I’m going to apologize again for anything they say that’s offensive. I’ve tried so many times to educate them but it’s so tiring when they don’t want to learn, you know? My mom tries, sometimes, but it’s easier to just pretend for a few days than keep pounding my head against a brick wall.”

Calum wasn’t sure what he could say to that statement and he knew that, sometimes, all she needed was a hand to hold. So, instead of putting his foot in his mouth, he gripped her hand in his and brought it to his mouth to place a gentle kiss against the back. When she shot him a halfhearted smile, he squeezed it a little tighter and said, “Lead the way, love.”

Though Calum had been overwhelmed by the barrage of teenage girls that bombarded the car, they were nothing compared to the barrage of adults that swarmed them as they entered the house. He held Elizabeth’s bag and watched as, one by one, adult after adult wrapped Elizabeth in hugs and shouted variations of, “Lizzie Belle!” He stood off to the side, a small smile on his face, as he watched them tell her how proud they were of her for finding a life in Los Angeles or how beautiful she looked. It was sweet, an onslaught of love, but he imagined that she was incredibly uncomfortable with the outpouring of compliments as she thanked everyone. She didn’t like to be the center of attention, not when there were so many sets of eyes on her, but he could tell that she was glad to be at home as she hugged her nana and held on tight.

“Here, let me help you with that,” a voice called over the din of the living room and Calum glanced over to meet the eyes of a man he recognized as her older brother. The family resemblance wasn’t very strong - likely due to their different fathers - but he could see bits and pieces of Elizabeth in him. They had the same dark, wavy hair (though her brothers had started graying) and kind smile but that was where the similarity ended. Her brother, slightly taller than Calum and significantly bigger, looked as if he spent a good deal of his time outdoors and was covered with tattoos.

“Thanks,” Calum said as he handed the bag to Elizabeth’s brother and followed him through the small path he’d carved behind the crowd of relatives. “Calum,” he introduced, holding his hand out as they entered a long hallway, “nice to meet you.”

“Josh,” he returned as he shook Calum’s hand before gesturing to a room with a closed door, “this is Lizzie’s room. Y’all’ll be in here.” Josh dropped the bag onto Elizabeth’s bed and Calum followed suit before he paused to glance around the room.

The room was exactly what he’d imagined it would be. The curtains were black and red with a light blocking curtain behind them. The queen sized bed was tall, so tall that Elizabeth needed a step-stool to climb onto it, and covered with a black duvet with white polka dots and nearly a million pillows at the head. Posters covered every inch of the walls and Calum spotted All Time Low, Green Day, and even a few One Direction posters thrown into the mix. A bookshelf rested in one corner and was filled to the brim with books, CDs, DVDs, and old trinkets. He spotted a stack of yearbooks on the top shelf and decided that his night was going to spent combing through her memories.

As Calum lost himself in exploring her bedroom, he didn’t realize that a small velvet box had fallen out of his bag. He’d tucked it into the pocket for safety but it jostled loose when he tossed the bag onto the bed and hit the floor with a thud. As he ran his fingers along the CDs littering her bookshelf, stopping and grinning when he came across their self-titled album - something he was absolutely going to tease Elizabeth about having later - Josh bent down to pick it up.

“You know, Lizzie’s never really been a jewelry person but, from the way she talks about you, I can see her being alright with wearing this.”

Calum turned, surprised as he had forgotten that Josh was still in the room, and blinked as he stared at the box in his hand. He didn’t know what to say. He’d been planning on asking her parents for permission, something he knew she thought was old-fashioned but a sweet gesture, and was mildly terrified of the response he was going to get. However, as Josh smiled at him and held the box out to him, Calum felt a small bit of ease wash over him.

“You think?” he asked as he shoved the box back into his bag and ensured that it wouldn’t fall out again. “I don’t - I know we’ve just met but I…” He paused, unsure of what he should say to him, before he simply stated, “I really love her.”

“I figured,” he nodded as he took a seat on the edge of her bed and jerked his head in the direction of the living room. “Anyone willing to put up with all this has to be in love. Momma said you were the one who called and asked if y’all could come down,” Josh said as he glanced toward the door of the room. “Lizzie doesn’t get to come home much so it meant a lot that you called and set this up for her. Momma’s hard to get through to sometimes. She doesn’t think anyone’s good enough for her kids, especially when they keep them so far away from home, but that made her happy. That gave her a reason to like you. I don’t think they’ll say no, if that’s what you’re after. But, you do know that Lizzie won’t care what they say, right?”

Calum was floored to hear Josh speak so candidly about their mother. Elizabeth was never so open about it. She rarely spoke about the bad with her family - only when she really needed to convey the importance of something - but he knew that there was a tension that he would need to overcome where her family was concerned. He was more of afraid of their denial than hers but to hear Josh predict that they would approve made his heartbeat calm and the tension in his shoulders ease.

“I know,” he laughed as he imagined Elizabeth raging against a denial from her parents. She was an adult, she was free to do as she pleased, and if she wanted to marry Calum, she would. However, having that approval was more of a symbolic gesture that Calum hoped would extend an olive branch to her parents and assure them that he wasn’t trying to steal their daughter or keep her from seeing them. He opened his mouth to thank Josh when footsteps interrupted him.

He glanced up to see Elizabeth step into the room with a small child in her arms, no older than two, and Calum felt his heart skip a beat at the sight. “There you are,” she hummed as she glanced at Calum and gave him a smile before she turned her attention to her brother. “Dad’s looking for you. They’re getting the crawfish ready to put out. They need some more hands.”

“Alright,” he sighed as he stood from the bed and clapped Calum on the shoulder. “Nice meeting you, man. We’ll have a beer later, talk some more. Lizzie says you’re in a band. I wanna know about your music,” he said before he leaned in and wrapped an arm around Elizabeth’s waist and pressed a kiss to the baby’s head. “Hey, girl. Good to see you. Don’t drop my child, please.”

“Like I would,” Elizabeth huffed as she nudged her brother away from her. “You literally threw me across a room as a baby. I’m clearly not the one anyone needs to be concerned about. Isn’t that right, Sawyer?” The baby in her arms cooed, grinning up at her, and Josh rolled his eyes as he let go.

“Keep bringing up the past, damn. Can’t let anyone make any mistakes around here,” he grumbled playfully as he left the room and left Calum, Elizabeth, and Sawyer alone.

“Sorry for letting him steal you,” she apologized as she stepped closer to him and smiled when he reached out to offer the baby his finger. “I try desperately hard to keep anyone I like away from him. When I was twelve, he called out this guy I had a crush on on Facebook and the guy never spoke to me again. He was, uh, a little… overprotective?” She paused, glancing down at the baby in her arms, before she cooed at her. “You’re gonna have such tough time dating, honey. He’s gonna give your dates the ultimate interrogation and it’s not going to end well for anyone involved.”

Calum laughed as Elizabeth pouted at the baby and felt his heart melt as he watched them interact. He’d been thinking a lot lately, about children and marriage and the future, and every image of the future he got, Elizabeth was in it. He wanted her to be the one walking down the aisle to meet him. He wanted her to be the one to carry his children. He wanted her to be the one he grew old with. He wanted her, then and forever, and it made his heart ache in the best way to see her look so happy holding a small child.

“You look beautiful like that,” Calum breathed before he could stop himself. When Elizabeth rolled her eyes, brushing him off with a comment about how much she’d been sweating from the sweltering heat, he shook his head. “You always look beautiful but you look even more so holding the baby,” he elaborated, smiling as she glanced down at the giggling girl in her arms. “It looks natural.”

“It’s taken us a few times to get this right,” she hummed as she tickled Sawyer and grinned at her. “She threw up on me the first few times I held her. But we’re good now, right, honey?” When Sawyer cooed at her, reaching out to tug at her hair, Elizabeth smiled and glanced at Calum. When she met his amused glance, she grinned and shook her head. “I know what you meant, bub. It’s nice. I’ve thought about it and I want it - children, a family - with you. I’m sure there are other things we need to work on before that but I want that.”

“I do, too,” Calum confirmed with a grin as he leaned over to press a soft kiss to her cheek. When the baby slapped at his chest, he laughed and pulled away from Elizabeth with a grin, “But maybe now isn’t the best time to talk about our family plans, huh?”

“Nope,” she agreed with a smile, “not when there’s a cranky little lady that needs her mom and two adults that need beer and crawfish.”

Calum quickly found himself in the backyard, passed around by relatives as Elizabeth introduced him to each one. Her mother, who had been finishing frosting a red velvet cake, grinned when she spotted him and nudged an uncle that Calum had already forgotten the name of out of the way. He was almost surprised at the hug he received, the affection was a little startling, but he decided not to question it as Elizabeth’s mother wrapped her arms around him and squeezed.

“Thank you,” she said as the others around them dispersed to give them a moment to talk. “My Belle doesn’t get to come home much and she’s always so worried about taking off so I’m so glad you convinced her to come home for a little bit. I’ve missed my baby. And it’s good to see you again. I haven’t seen you in nearly two years. I miss your hair,” she laughed as she pointed out the buzz cut he’d gotten recently.

“Lizzie does, too,” he laughed as he rubbed a hand over the bleached hair on top of his head. “She liked playing with it while we were watching TV,” he added quickly, afraid of how the first part of his sentence sounded. “I’m glad that everyone was able to come. She’s missed everyone.”

“She has,” her mom nodded as she glanced around the backyard and smiled as she caught sight of Elizabeth sitting with the girls and chatting animatedly about whatever topic they’d gotten started on. “Everyone’s missed her. It’s not the same without her here but she’s happy in LA. You make her happy. I’m glad that y’all have each other,” her mother told him with a smile and Calum breathed a quiet sigh of relief at the sincerity in her tone. He was afraid that Josh had misread the situation, that he wasn’t nearly as favored as he imagined he was, but to hear her say that eased the nerves he felt in the pit of his stomach. However, they quickly returned as she turned to face him and said, “Josh said you had something you wanted to ask us?”

Calum blinked, surprised he was being put on the spot so quickly, and nodded slowly. “I, uh, yeah. But it can wait. It’s fine.”

Her mother smiled at him and Calum could see the understanding on her face. “If it’s what I think you want to ask, I’d prefer you didn’t. The answer is yes, by the way, from both of us. But we still want to hear your proposal.”

Calum laughed as he found himself being dragged into the house by Elizabeth’s parents. Her brother and grandmother — whose opinion really, truly mattered — followed them into the laundry room (the only room that seemed to be empty) and listened carefully as Calum asked for permission and detailed the proposal he had planned in Gulf Shores.

The rest of the weekend seemed to pass in a blur. Elizabeth taught Calum how to eat crawfish - her brother showed him how to suck the head, though he didn’t imagine he would be giving that a try - and her maw maw taught him how to shell butterbeans and peas as they sat in the shade of a pecan tree and worked on seven five-gallon buckets of peas and beans. They took him to a fish camp, an old cabin-like building in the middle of nowhere that made the best friend fish he’d ever had, and showed him the river where they went tubing when Elizabeth and Josh were young. And on their last night, he and Elizabeth sat on her parent’s front porch with a bucket of peas a piece and watched as the dusty afternoon turned to night.

“I’m really glad you did this,” she hummed as she glanced away from the bucket in front of her and over at Calum. “I never thought I’d say this but maybe all I needed was to come home and shell peas for a few days.”

Calum, whose fingers were sore and stained from the hulls, couldn’t imagine having spent every summer in this fashion but it was a nice glimpse into her world and he agreed. It had been restful, something of a recharge, and he found himself grateful for the experience. “It’s been nice,” Calum agreed with a smile as he watched her work for a moment. “It’s been good to see you in your element. I know that this isn’t your life anymore but it was nice to see where you come from.”

“I’m glad it didn’t send you running for the hills,” she teased as she tossed a hull into the bucket and shook her head. “You know, if you’d told me as a kid that I would move to LA, I wouldn’t have believed you. But if you’d have said that I’d move to LA, find someone as amazing as you, fall in love, and then bring you home someday to show you what my life was like before? I would’ve called you insane. But it felt right. Letting you in, letting you see this part of my life. It felt… it felt like it was time, you know?”

Calum reached out to squeeze Elizabeth’s hand but said nothing as they continued to shell their peas. If he’d spoken, he would’ve poured his heart out to her. He would’ve confessed just how much he loved her, just how much she meant to him, and would’ve ended up proposing on her parents’ front porch. Instead, he let his touch convey everything he wanted to say and hoped that would last them until they made it to the beach.

Saying goodbye was a rough affair. Elizabeth’s mother and nana cried. Her father held onto her for so long that her mother had to pull them apart. They all made her promise to visit again soon and sent them on their way with enough food to feed an army. Elizabeth let Calum drive on the return trip and watched as he navigated the streets she regarded with a fondness that she never imagined she would feel. She felt bittersweet, glad to have gone home but sad to be leaving, and hoped that the festival would cheer her mood.

However, what she was met with was something far greater than she expected.

As they arrived at the beach house she, Calum, Michael, and Crystal would share for the weekend, she was under the impression that they’d arrived before Michael and Crystal. However, as they entered the house to find it decorated with photos from her and Calum’s relationship as well as flowers, she realized that she was wrong. They’d been in, long enough to help Calum set up his surprise, and were waiting somewhere in the city for Calum to make his move. It didn’t click, not at first, what the point of the set up was. But as she dropped her bag and began to look at each of the photos, it soon dawned on her.

“Calum,” she began, her voice quiet as she turned to him, only to see him on one knee behind her. “Oh, fuck.”

At her exclamation, Calum laughed and held his hand out for her to grab. “Come here,” he laughed, smiling as she stepped closer to him and allowed him to hold her hand in his. “I’ve been thinking about this for a while and even spending a weekend shelling peas can’t deter me,” Calum teased as he glanced up at her. Her hand rested over her mouth, her fingers shaking as she watched him open the small velvet box to reveal a beautiful ring. “I love you, so much. Whenever I imagine the future, I imagine you in it. I want it all with you. I want to have a family with you, I want to grow old with you. I want to marry you and spend the rest of my life by your side. I love you, Lizzie. Will you marry me?”

Elizabeth, though she imagined the proposal was coming, couldn’t speak. Instead, she nodded her agreement and kneeled onto the floor to wrap her arms around Calum’s neck. He laughed, relief and joy bubbling in his chest, as he wrapped his own arms around her waist and held her tight against his chest. He held her there for a moment, relishing in the moment, before he pulled away just enough to press a kiss to her lips. “I love you,” he breathed against them, his eyes shining with joy as he moved to place the ring on her finger, “I can’t wait for forever with you.”

“Forever isn’t long enough when I’m with you, Hood,” she quipped, her smile bright and her eyes glittering with unshed tears as she pressed her lips to his once more. “I love you, Cal. Thank you for being the most amazing man and for loving me the way you do.”

Calum knew that the future was rapidly approaching. He knew that, no matter how far away it seemed, everything would change in the blink of an eye. But with Elizabeth by his side, with her hand in his, he imagined that he could tackle whatever the universe threw at him.

And as they sat on the back patio, curled up together on a lounge chair and looking out at the water with Michael and Crystal to their left and the sound of pre-Hangout revelry to their right, Calum couldn’t think of any other place he’d rather be.

____________________________________________________

Author’s Note: This is literally just seven thousand words of self-indulgent bullshit. I don’t know. I felt it and I’ve wanted to do this for a while. It wouldn’t leave me alone so I spent my day alternating between this and Rose Tattoo. Also, with tag lists I lowkey feel like I’m annoying people if I tag them (which is the point, I know) but tell me if you don’t want to be tagged in everything. Anyway. I need to write something for Ash now. I’m, like, in an Ash mood.

Tag List (like this post or message me if you want to be added! If you don’t want to be tagged in everything, just let me know): @toolazymyguy , @irwinkitten , @jamieebabiee , @glittersluke , @spicycal , @lusbaby , @everyscarisahealingplace, @brokenvirtualheartcollector , @if-it-rains-it-pours, @blisshemmings , @calumscalm , @lovemenowseemenever , @ijutreallylovezebras , @rhiannonmichelle , @p0laroidpictures , @tomscuddles , @loverofmineluke , @harrytreatspeoplewithkindnesss , @blueviiolence , @loveroflrh , @empathycth , @luckyduckydoo , @tobefalling , @bandsandbooksaremykink , @watch-how-she-burns , @megz1985 , @wokeupinaustralia , @lucidlrh , @canterburyfiction , @cal-is-not-on-branding , @jaacknaano , @findingliam-o , @idk-who-i-am-anymore1 , @sammyrenae68 , @flowerthug ,

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aristocraticvision · 4 years ago

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Chapter 81: Welcome News

It was rare to receive a phone call from his royal cousin, so Devon Grey, Earl of Buckland, had been somewhat alarmed when he had heard Stephen’s voice on the other end of the line.

“I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to call,” Stephen said. “I wanted to thank you for stepping up during my hospitalization. As my only male heir, I know the pressure the situation must have placed on you, and I wanted to apologize for putting you in that position.”

“Thank you, Stephen,” Devon said, hesitating. “I hope you know how happy I am that you recovered.”

“Oh, I’m quite aware of that, cousin,” Stephen said. “I know that the crown isn’t something you would accept if you had a choice.”

“Yes, well … unfortunately, I don’t have a choice,” Devon said. “But as you know, the family expects us to do our duty if called upon.”

“Of course,” Stephen replied. “I’m confident that you would rise to the occasion admirably. But hopefully, I won’t put you in that position again. Elizabeth and I consider starting a family our top priority once we’re married.”

“That’s good to hear,” Devon said, relieved. “Although my mother won’t be glad to hear it.”

Stephen chuckled. “Yes, well, you and I share the curse of domineering mothers, don’t we?”

Devon smiled despite himself. “Indeed.”

“Hopefully, within a year, we’ll push you down a bit in the order of succession,” Stephen said. “Then you can relax.”

“I would appreciate that, Stephen,” Devon replied. “I won’t rest easy until you have at least one legitimate heir. So the more children you have, the better.”

Stephen laughed.

“Very good, then,” Stephen said. “I’ll do my best to oblige you, cousin. I assume you’re still staying at Polk Cottage?”

“Yes,” Devon said. “Mother is quite settled at Buckton Hall, so I think we’re both quite happy with this arrangement. I see her regularly, but not so often that we argue as much as we used to.”

“That’s good for both of you then,” Stephen said. “I was going to mention – when we return from our honeymoon, Elizabeth and I plan on spending some time at Hilningham. We were hoping you might come out for a visit?”

“I would love to, Stephen,” Devon said. “It’s been a long time since we’ve spent much time together. I would enjoy that very much.”

“Oh, and by all means bring your friend, Viscount Perry,” Stephen said. “He’ll be quite welcome.”

Devon hesitated.

“It’s alright, Devon,” Stephen said, gently. “I’m just happy that you’ve found someone.”

“Thank you, Stephen,” Devon replied, still surprised. “I didn’t realize that you ... well, that you knew ….”

“Oh, I’ve known since you were twelve years old, Devon -- or at least I suspected,” Stephen replied. “Do bring him along. He seems like a fine young man, and I promise you neither your mother nor mine will hear anything of it.”

“Then we accept,” Devon said, breaking into a smile. “I look forward to it. Goodbye, Stephen, and thank you.”

Still stunned, Devon hung up the phone as Grant Fellowes, Viscount Perry, approached.

“Was that the prince?” Grant said.

“Yes,” Devon said, sweeping Grant into his arms. “Yes, it was.”

They kissed, and for a moment, Devon forgot the constant weight of his station and felt truly happy.

BEGINNING | PREV | NEXT

Continent of Oceana | History of Weston | History of Corwyn

#TS4 #ts4 royal family #ts4 royal legacy #ts4 simblr #ts4 royalty #ts4 royal simblr #Principality of Weston #HRH Prince Stephen III #devon grey #Oceana Stories

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slippinmickeys · 5 years ago

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Of the Eight Winds, Part 6

This is part six in who knows how many from the prompt from @sunflowerseedsandscience : “Mulder is unhappily married when Scully is partnered with him, and while he doesn’t cheat (because sorry that’s not romantic), he falls for her so hard that he finally gets the courage to end the marriage and start fresh.”

Links to parts one, two, three, four and five.

Mulder’s mother-in-law was sick. Terminal cancer, from what Scully gathered from the little he talked about it. He was gone a lot, accompanying Lauren back and forth between her parent’s house in Newport News and the hospital and home.

Their basement office felt cold, empty without him in it. She felt like every small noise she made echoed off the walls. One Friday, she left early, unable to stand it any longer.

She went home, but felt alone there, too. She drifted out into her neighborhood, the warm sun of the afternoon laying long shadows through the streets.

There was a farmer’s market set up a few blocks from her apartment— an entire block’s worth of a street closed off, with tented stalls lining both sides of the road, selling everything from fresh eggs to flowers to jewelry.

She was looking through the selection of breads and baked goods on the edge of one of the stalls when she felt a light tug on bottom of the sundress she had changed into. She looked down to find a small black feline paw had reached through the bars of the cage in the next stall and had hooked a claw into her dress. Her laugh alerted one of the women working the rescue group’s stall, who rushed over to help release her from the kitten’s grasp, with an “oh honestly, Trouble.”

“His name is Trouble?” Scully asked, laughing.

“Her,” the woman said, smiling at the little black fluff affectionately, “she’s sweet but has an excess of personality.”

“How old is she?” Scully asked.

“Ten weeks,” the woman answered, then narrowed her eyes, seeing a prospective cat rescuer suddenly in her midst. “Here,” she went on, handing Scully a feather-on-a-stick cat toy, “play with her. She’s a hoot.”

Scully bobbed the toy about Trouble’s head, who took one swat at it and then jumped into the air and caught it, growling like a dog. Scully laughed, delighted.

“She plays fetch, too,” said the woman, who was still hovering nearby.

“You’re kidding,” Scully said, tugging on the feather, which Trouble refused to give up.

“I’ve seen it with my own eyes,” the woman said, “wadded up paper ball. And when she brings it back, she drops it better than my retriever ever does.”

Scully was thoroughly charmed.

“You in the market for a new friend?” the woman asked with a smile.

“Oh! No, not really.”

“Well, we’ll be here if you change your mind. Our rescue group has a stall at the Farmer’s Market on Tuesdays and Fridays.”

Scully smiled at the woman and turned away, thinking of buying a bag of apples and a bouquet of flowers.

“Miss?” the woman said, and Scully turned back to look at her, “Trouble won’t be here long. The cute ones get adopted quick.”

Scully smiled indulgently and walked on. On her return trip through the market to head home, carrying a bag of greens, two cartons of strawberries and a small bouquet of yellow calla lilies, she saw a small girl playing with Trouble and a slightly larger orange tabby kitten. The girl’s parents were standing a few feet away and the girl turned to them. “I want the orange one,” she told them.

Scully was insulted on Trouble’s behalf. It was no fun coming in second. She veered back toward the cage and stuck a finger through the bars. Trouble rubbed her face against her finger and sat down, purring.

“Can I get an adoption application please?” Scully said then, and found that the woman was already behind her with a clipboard and a pen. The woman winked.

Two hours later she tumbled into her apartment laden with her haul from the farmer’s market, twenty five pounds of kitty accoutrements and a cardboard cat carrier that had little black paws popping out of the holes in the top.

She opened it up and looked down at its lone occupant, who sat, looking back at her, as prim and proper as a posy. She looked like a ball of black puff with two green eyes, as round as the moon.

“We’re going to change your name, Trouble,” Scully said, “A friend of mine once told me about self-fulfilling prophecies.”

Scully didn’t go to Lauren’s mother’s funeral, but she did send flowers. She tried to strike the right tone with the arrangement, somewhere between work acquaintance and best friend, and leaned into one that was more on this side of ostentatious than not.

She got a thank you card from Lauren, but it was written in Mulder’s scrawling hand.

Scully had voiced a craving for a mid-afternoon latte, and the day was bright and clear, the first in almost a week. He volunteered to accompany her to a nearby coffee shop.

He waited in the back of the shop next to a stack of high chairs and a small creamer station dusted with spilled Sweet’N Low and cinnamon. He watched as she gave her order to the barista, laughing at something the girl had said as she handed over her money. Her face shone amongst the other patrons, brighter and clearer than anyone else’s. It was like she alone was in focus, everyone else in the world walking in an ill-defined blur.

Why had he waited so long, he wondered. Some misplaced sense of loyalty? Things with Lauren had always gone from bad to worse, waiting certainly hadn’t made them better. It wasn’t to spare Lauren’s feelings. It certainly wasn’t to spare his own.

Scully turned from where she stood in line and caught his eye. She smiled at him with a radiance that hit him square in the solar plexus.

How many years had he wasted? How many breaths had he taken, how many nights spent alone in a bed of two?

He smiled back at her, a delicious ache in his chest.

Their first meeting with Skinner after Mulder informed him of their relationship was a budgetary meeting. Kimberly smiled at them in a knowing way when they walked into the front part of Skinner’s office, at which Scully blushed. Mulder wondered vaguely how much Skinner and his assistant talked.

Just before Skinner adjourned the meeting of roughly ten people, he said “Please consider this a reminder to make sure your current address, emergency contact information, and any other pertinent personnel file data is updated and filed with Human Resources.”

Mulder shot a look to Scully, who shot a look back.

The skin at the base of his left ring finger was bare but indented with years long pressure.

One morning, Mulder woke up to find Blackwell sitting on his chest, the end of her fat, fluffy tail twitching slowly up, keeping time like a metronome. The cat regarded him coolly for minute, then yawned once and flopped down to lay atop him, purring gently.

Scully awoke about ten minutes later and cracked a sleepy eye to look at the domestic tableau before her.

She smiled.

“She likes you,” she said.

“I have a way with women,” he rumbled, scratching a nail under the cat’s chin.

“I’ll remember that the next time she needs her claws trimmed,” Scully said, stretching.

Mulder considered the animal.

“Why did you name your cat Blackwell?” he asked.

“Have you heard of Elizabeth Blackwell?” she asked back. He shook his head. “She was the first woman to graduate from Medical School in the United States,” she said.

He nodded, running his hand along the velvet coat of the black cat.

“Perfect,” he said. Blackwell purred. So did Scully.

He had dreams. Terrible dreams. He dreamt that he hadn’t made it in time to the top of Skyland Mountain. He dreamt that Melissa had been shot dead in Scully’s doorway. Dreams where he showed up at the hospital to visit Lauren’s mother and found Scully in her bed.

In the mornings, he woke to find Scully next to him and pulled her close. She generally woke when he did this, but never once complained.

Blackwell had stopped growling when playing with toys after a week or two of living with Scully, but would still occasionally play fetch. Mulder was so taken with the idea of a dog-like cat, he offered to open an X-File on her and swore he would teach her tricks.

True to his word, as the years passed, Mulder taught Blackwell several, including a high five, “speak” and a version of “play dead” in which he would pull an imaginary service weapon (complete with correct form and safety procedures) say “bang” and over she would keel. True her status as a feline, Blackwell would perform these tricks only five times out of ten, which Scully did have to admit, was pretty good.

On a lazy Sunday morning when Lily was nine months old, Mulder, Scully and their daughter were whiling away in their rumpled bed (Mulder with a book, Scully with a crossword, Lily with an orange teether) when Mulder set the book down on his bedside table and turned to Scully.

“Lily and I taught Blackwell a new trick,” he said.

Scully set down the newspaper and pencil where Lily couldn’t get to them and turned toward him.

“I’d like to see it,” she said, smiling.

“What do you think, Lil?” Mulder said to the baby who babbled a bit in response, a string of drool sliding down to soak into her already damp onesie.

Mulder nodded, pursed his lips and whistled.

A light tinkling sound came down the hallway, and Blackwell jumped up easily onto the bed and sauntered up to Mulder to give him a gentle headbutt.

Scully clapped softly.

“She comes when whistled for now? I’m impressed.”

Mulder pet the cat affectionately and then looped a finger underneath the cat’s collar to bring it up and over her fur.

“And check out the new accessory,” Mulder said.

Scully clicked her fingers and Blackwell walked over to her.

“A new collar, I see,” Scully, said, eyeing the new black collar with equal parts humor and distaste -- it had a repeating pattern of alien heads and ufos.

Mulder nodded as Blackwell sat in front of Scully and then he thrust his chin up and towards the cat.

“That’s not all,” he said, “check out the hardware.”

Lily made a grab for the cat, but was scooped up by her father who lifted her to his shoulder as Scully leaned down to take a closer look at Blackwell’s new collar. Where the bell usually was, hung a platinum ring with three diamonds and an aged patina. Scully sucked in a breath and fingered it, flicking her eyes to Mulder, who looked at her with affection.

“What do you think, Scully? Make an honest man out of me?”

Blackwell sat patiently as Scully unhooked her collar and slid the ring off of it. She held it in her palm, her eyes shining.

“Was this…?” she said, and Mulder knew what she was asking.

“It was the ring I gave to Lauren,” he said, “it was my grandmother’s. She returned it to me a few months ago. She thought you should have it.”

Scully smiled sadly.

Mulder rushed on.

“I understand if you would rather not wear it. I’d be happy to buy you a new one. But I wanted to give you the option. Mulder women have been wearing this ring for close to a hundred years. It maybe doesn’t have the best mojo, but…”

“I love it,” Scully said, as Lily reached up and patted at Mulder’s cheeks. Scully slid it over her finger and it seemed to fit perfectly.

“So is that a yes?” Mulder asked, nuzzling their daughter’s head.

“It’s a yes,” Scully smiled. “And Mulder?”

He looked at her.

“I don’t believe in mojo.”

They buried Blackwell under the dogwood tree in their backyard, eleven year old Lily crying into her mother’s shoulder. Eight year old William, who had inherited his mother’s stoicism and his grandmother’s stiff upper lip stood next to them, watching his father blankly as he patted the soil flat with the back of a shovel.

“She was good cat,” William said somberly, and Mulder reached out and pulled him into a hug. He could feel a wet spot start to soak into his shirt.

“She was, buddy,” he said, and swung his eyes to Scully, who was absently rubbing Lily’s back, her eyes still on the ground. “I think maybe we should celebrate her life with ice cream, what do you say?”

William snuffled loudly, wiped his nose with the back of his hand.

“Vanilla, dad?” he said on another sniffle, “chocolate is bad for cats.”

Scully finally cracked a smile.

“It’s what she would have wanted,” she said, and tucked a strand of bright red hair tenderly behind Lily’s ear.

A blossom detached from the tree and fell gently to the ground, landing softly on the freshly turned earth.

#the x-files #fanfic #fanfiction #my fic #of the eight winds #prompt #msr #au

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newstfionline · 4 years ago

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Saturday, December 26, 2020

Getting creative to help the homeless (AP) After three years on the streets, Tiecha Vannoy and her boyfriend Chris Foss plan to weather the pandemic this winter in a small white “pod” with electricity, heat and enough room for two. Portland this month assembled neat rows of the shelters, which resemble garden sheds, in three ad-hoc “villages”—part of an unprecedented effort unfolding in cold-weather cities nationwide to keep people without permanent homes safe as temperatures drop and coronavirus cases surge. “We just get to stay in our little place. We don’t have to leave here unless we want to,” said Vannoy, wiping away tears as they moved into the shelter near a downtown train station. “It’s been a long time coming. He always tells me to have faith, but I was just over it.” ... “Those (are) folks who would under normal circumstances maybe come into a drop-in center to warm up, or go into the subway to warm up, or go into a McDonald’s to warm up—and just not having those options available to them. What then?” asked Giselle Routhier of the Coalition for the Homeless in New York City.

Raise your mittens: Outdoor learning continues into winter (AP) Cindy Soule’s fourth graders in Maine’s largest city have studied pollination in a community garden. They solved an erosion problem that was damaging trees. They learned about bear scat. Then came a fresh layer of snow and temperatures that hovered around freezing—but her students were unfazed. Bundled up and masked, they scooted outside with their belongings in buckets. They collected their pencils and clipboards, plopped the buckets upside down in the snow, took a seat and went to work. The lesson? Snow, of course, and how snowflakes are formed. Schools nationwide scrambled to get students outdoors during the pandemic to keep them safe and stop the spread of COVID-19. Now, with temperatures plummeting, a smaller number of schools—even in some of the nation’s most frigid climes—plan to keep it going all winter long, with students trading desks in warm classrooms for tree stumps or buckets.

Explosion in Nashville that damaged 20 buildings, injured 3 people an ‘intentional act’ (USA Today) Authorities believe an explosion that occurred in downtown Nashville early Christmas morning and was felt for miles was an “intentional act” sparked by a vehicle. Police responded to reports of a suspicious vehicle parked outside the AT&T building just before 6 a.m. Upon arrival, police said an officer “had reason” to alert the department’s hazardous devices unit, which was en route, when a “significant explosion” happened. Three people were hospitalized with injuries, police said. At least 20 buildings were damaged, Nashville Mayor John Cooper said. The sound of the explosion could be heard from miles away, and people reported windows shaking from South and East Nashville. “It looks like a bomb went off,” Cooper said. The downtown area will be “sealed off” for further investigation and to make sure everything is “completely safe.”

US to require negative COVID-19 test from UK travelers (AP) The United States will require airline passengers from Britain to get a negative COVID-19 test before their flight, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention announced late Thursday. The U.S. is the latest country to announce new travel restrictions because of a new variant of the coronavirus that is spreading in Britain and elsewhere. Airline passengers from the United Kingdom will need to get negative COVID-19 tests within three days of their trip and provide the results to the airline, the CDC said in a statement. The agency said the order will be signed Friday and go into effect on Monday. “If a passenger chooses not to take a test, the airline must deny boarding to the passenger,” the CDC said in its statement. The agency said because of travel restrictions in place since March, air travel to the U.S. from the U.K. is already down by 90%.

Many just want a hug for Christmas this year, Queen Elizabeth says (Reuters) All many people want for Christmas this year is a simple hug, Britain’s Queen Elizabeth said in her annual festive message, saying it would be hard for those who lost loved ones to COVID-19 pandemic or were separated by curbs on social mixing. In her traditional pre-recorded Christmas Day address to the nation, the 94-year-old monarch repeatedly spoke of hope for the future whilst acknowledging millions of Britons would be unable to have their usual family celebrations this year. “Of course for many, this time of year will be tinged with sadness; some mourning the loss of those dear to them, and others missing friends and family members distanced for safety when all they really want for Christmas is a simple hug or a squeeze of the hand,” Elizabeth said. “If you are among them, you are not alone. And let me assure you of my thoughts and prayers.” “Remarkably, a year that has necessarily kept people apart has in many ways brought us closer,” said the queen, adding the royals had been inspired by stories of those who volunteered to help others in need. “In the United Kingdom and around the world, people have risen magnificently to the challenges of the year and I’m so proud and moved by this quiet indomitable spirit.”

For the European Union, It’s a Pretty Good Deal (NYT) The European Union emerges from fraught negotiations with Britain over its exit from the bloc with a sense of satisfaction—that it has maintained its unity and its core principles, especially the integrity of the single market of now 450 million consumers that is the foundation of its influence. And it is now looking ahead to its life without Britain. The final deal is a free-trade agreement that recognizes Britain’s desire to leave the single market and the customs union while preserving tariff-free, quota-free trade in goods with the European Union. To that end, Britain agreed to a mechanism, with arbitration and possible tariffs for violations, that would keep its regulations and subsidies roughly in line with those of Brussels, to prevent unfair competition. But the deal will require inspections of goods to prevent smuggling. The deal also covers many mundane but crucial matters of visas, health insurance, and air, rail and road travel. It treats Northern Ireland, which is part of the United Kingdom, as within the E.U. customs area to prevent the need for a hard border on the island, but requires some checks on goods going from Britain to Northern Ireland. And the deal reallocates fishing areas and quotas, given that Britain is now an independent coastal state.

Pope Francis celebrates low-key Christmas Eve Mass amid coronavirus restrictions (Fox News) Pope Francis celebrated Christmas Eve Mass on Thursday night amid coronavirus restrictions that reduced a normal crowd of as many as 10,000 congregants to a group of fewer than 100 people, according to reports. During his homily, the Roman Catholic leader urged followers to reach out to the needy, noting that Jesus Christ was considered an outsider. “The Son of God was born an outcast, in order to tell us that every outcast is a child of God,” the pope said. May the Child of Bethlehem help us, then, to be generous, supportive and helpful, especially towards those who are vulnerable, the sick, those unemployed or experiencing hardship due to the economic effects of the pandemic, and women who have suffered domestic violence during these months of lockdown,” he said.

Turkey debates law that would increase oversight of NGOs (Reuters) Turkey’s parliament began debating a draft law on Friday that would increase oversight of non-governmental organisations and which, according to rights campaigners, risks limiting the freedoms of civil-society groups. The government says the measure, covering “foundations and associations”, aims to prevent non-profit organisations from financing terrorism and to punish those who violate the law. Civil-society groups, including Amnesty International and the Human Rights Association, said terrorism charges in Turkey were arbitrary, and that the draft law would violate the presumption of innocence and punish those whose trials were not finalised.Investigations based on terrorism charges have been launched against hundreds of thousands of people under a crackdown following a failed coup in 2016. Hundreds of foundations were also shut down with decrees following the coup attempt.

Half of Russians sceptical Kremlin critic Navalny was poisoned (Reuters) Half of Russians believe that Kremlin critic Alexei Navalny was either not poisoned, as he and Western governments contend, or that his poisoning was stage-managed by Western intelligence services, a poll showed on Thursday. The poll, released by the Levada-Center, shows how hard it remains for Navalny to shape public opinion in Russia even as his case attracts wide media attention in the West and his own slickly-produced videos of what happened to him this summer rack up millions of views online. Navalny, one of President Vladimir Putin’s most outspoken critics, was airlifted to Germany for medical treatment in August after collapsing on a plane in Russia. Germany has said he was poisoned with a Soviet-style Novichok nerve agent in an attempt to murder him, an assertion many Western nations accept. The poll by Levada, which is regarded as more independent than state counterparts, showed only 15% of Russians believed what happened to Navalny was an attempt by the authorities to rid themselves of a political opponent. By contrast, 30% thought that the incident was stage-managed and that there was no poisoning, and 19% said they believed it was a provocation orchestrated by Western intelligence services.

Hong Kong street refrigerator keeps giving (AP) Most people who head to Woosung Street in Hong Kong’s old-school neighborhood of Jordan are visiting its popular restaurants serving everything from curries to seafood. Others may be headed for a lone refrigerator, painted blue, with a sign that reads: “Give what you can give, take what you need to take.” The door of the fridge sitting outside a hockey academy opens to reveal it is stuffed with packets of instant noodles, biscuits, tins of food and even socks and towels for anyone who may need them. Ahmen Khan, founder of a sports foundation on the same street, said he was inspired to create a community refrigerator after seeing a film about others doing the same thing. He found the refrigerator at a nearby refuse collection point and painted it blue. “It’s like a dignity, that when you go home, you open your fridge to get food,” Khan said. “So I want the people to just feel like that. Even if it’s a street, it’s their community, it’s their home, so they can simply just open it and then just put food there, and collect the food.” Khan’s blue refrigerator project went viral on social media and people have been dropping by to leave food inside.

Israeli jets fly over Beirut, explosions reported in Syria (AP) Israeli jets flew very low over parts of Lebanon early Friday, terrifying residents on Christmas Eve, some of whom reported seeing missiles in the skies over Beirut. Minutes later, Syria’s official news agency reported explosions in the central Syrian town of Masyaf. Other Syrian media said Syrian air defenses responded to an Israeli attack near the town in the Hama province. The Syrian Ministry of Defense issued a statement saying Israel “launched an aggression by directing a barrage of rockets” from the north of the Lebanese city of Tripoli towards the Masyaf area. Israeli jets regularly violate Lebanese airspace and have often struck inside Syria from Lebanese territory. But the Christmas Eve flights were louder than usual, frightening residents of Beirut who have endured multiple crises in the past year, including the catastrophic Aug. 4 explosion at the city’s port that killed over 200 people and destroyed parts of the capital.

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