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sundarika · 3 years ago

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headcanon in two parts, sorry. Ask does not miss it. 1.1 Oh, you know the insecticons from the tfp? Can I have a headcanon where a S/O person is on friendly terms with insecticons?

[TF PRIME] S/O Is Friends With The Insecticons

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* [S/O] meets them by accident quite a bit before the events of the Energon Eaters. Arachnid is still “leader” of the Insecticons by technicality as the only available ‘Queen’ for the hive-mind, however she never really patrols the area or takes care of the hive as she should, rather choosing to wander as a free mind, disobeying orders from everybody.

* You had stumbled upon the hive while taking a short walk along the side of the Jasper highway, leading out of town and to an old coal mine you liked to inhabit on your days off work. A home-away-from-home of sorts, it brought you peace of mind to have a quiet place.

* At least you thought it was a quiet, desolate area until you broke through a thinning in the rock floor of the entry shaft and ended up crashing an Insecticon tea-party.

*It was a rather awkward fall, and it had injured your hip joint on the way down, leaving you temporarily paralyzed in throbbing pains and nerve damage.

* The giant bug-like robots and their shiny, metal wingspans immediately armed themselves and aimed at the shifting dust and rockfall, growling and chittering in a language of some sort, unknown to you.

* “Is it one of those ugly-faced Decepticons ploys again?”

* “It’s too small and squishy, much sooner to be a predacons’ chew toy than any weapon.”

* You looked super confused, absolutely stupefied, completely duped, utterly incomprehensible, awkwardly awed, amazingly idiotic, a-

* Their manner of speech and vocal patterns was practically lost on you. You could pick up remnants of a language similar to broken [language], but really nothing else. In an attempt to make contact with the metallic giants to gain help, you enabled your parroting capabilities.

* Humans have the stunning ability to mimic sounds and specific noise frequencies, at levels other earthen animals, especially mammals, cannot. Using this ability, you managed to copycat the grinding and chattering noises coming from the vocal mass of bug-bots.

* [S/O]: “¿Krrt-grrut vvurrr chechch?”

* Hardshell: “¿Buzzzz vert-tet-brrrz, Erreech?”

* [S/O]: “¿Erreech?”

* Hardshell: “¡VRREE BUZZZ-EECH CLICKLICKIK!”

* The contact went well, unbeknownst to you, and the successful communication meant that you might actually have a chance at escape, or finding a hospital!

* Congrats! You are now [Tiny Bug Child]! You have no idea what they were speaking about, unaware that they were contemplating how to execute you, but you successfully managed to evade death by being cute and cuddly! People say curiosity killed the cat, but it evidently saves the naive human-who-fell-into-an-insect-cult-meeting!

* Hardshell, the Insecticon you nearly landed on top of, begins to lift you out of the rubble, and place you down upon a makeshift stone table, partially destroyed by the collapse. The others—including Wingflap, Bombshell, Shrapnel, Blockhead, and Kickback—gather closely around you, cooing and chirping in their weird language again.

* This was, evidently, how you became the new Queen of the hive, though you didn’t know it, and managed to befriend your way through the entire enclosed community and worm into the spark of every Insecticon, though they were very few in number.

* You made easy friends with Bombshell, and remained close with him up until his untimely death by Bulkheads hammer fist. He would often lay atop the Jasper cliffside with you, and make out shapes in the clouds, constellations in the stars—regaling to you tales of the Old Cybertron, when his own kind weren’t so despised, and were respected as viable assets and allies amongst those with forms like and unlike their own—until the Autobot Elitists ensured they were seen as ugly and malformed, made to hide away in the shadows and step away from society for ‘the greater good’.

* It’s how you came to hate the Autobots—and Decepticons—for all they had done, to their planet and yours, and to your friends as well.

* Your mimicry slowly turned into actual speech patterns and recognition. Repetitive sound signals were a key portion of Archaic Insecticon speech, which made it easy to recognize simple words or phrases, each indicated by a set of whirs, clicks, or beeps.

* Now that you could actively communicate with most of the hive, it was far easier to make friends with even the hardiest of bots.

* Hardshell, of course, was tough to crack. At your constant insistance, he spoke with you once or twice, and made sure to acknowledge your presence when in the room, as well as save you a seat at the underground pub every other weekend. It wasn’t actually a pub per-say, rather a dugout chamber with smooth walls and some stone slabs insert for seating, where the cons enjoyed engex they could sneak off the Nemesis from time-to-time.

* After awhile, he warms up to you, welcoming you back to the hive every day after work, standing alongside his multiple siblings, and pushing others aside to get to hold you first.

* Meanwhile this all happens, they still don’t know what a human is. Their simple understanding of earth comes only from what they’ve seen on the highway from the cliffside, or from video footage of the Autobot pests on the Nemesis. Due to their bulky size and noisiness, they’re banned from most human-inhabited areas.

* Don’t doubt that some of them have attempted to follow their [S/O] home. They have. And some of them won’t stop trying. It’s been more than one awkward encounter between you and some teens to get them to realize they could get you in trouble.

* You all eat [dessert] together sometimes, made with energon supplements for ‘The Boys™️’, with some good ol’ 25-something-kg of sugar mixed in.

* The boys were worried when you didn’t show up for a week due to hospitalization via severe food poisoning medical coma.

* When Arachnid finally returned to Earth, and her fight against Arcee had proceeded about as well as expected, she located the hive and proceeded to force them to engage in business with Megatron. She believed that by implementing her own soldiers amongst the ranks, she’d be better equipped to backstab Megatron when the time came.

* She was undoubtably surprised when Hardshell and some others adamantly refused to take part in her plans at first, until she enforced their compliance through the hive-mind.

*When she learned of your existence, and the very gauge of your importance to her former hive, she came at you with full force.

*The Insecticons were fully unprepared to deal with a fight between their small [S/O] and an extremely angry ex-Queen. In refute, they returned you to the surface without so much as a goodbye, and begged you to escape before Arachnid scented you out.

* It was soon after these events that you learned of Breakdown’s death, Bulkhead’s coma, and Bombshell’s demise due to the combined effects of a substance called Tox-En and injuries sustained during his battle with Bulkhead. It broke you inside to learn there was nothing you could have done to help, but you refused to disobey their pleas to stay away for awhile.

* At the hive, Arachnid rules supreme. Being able to control the hive-mind was a feat a human was incapable of achieving, only Cybertronians able to easily access the imbedded chain of command.

* Hardshell mourned the loss of a true friend—a small, squishy human—but a friend nonetheless.

* Wingflap and Kickback went through a collection of memories you’d left behind with them. Pictures and small objects gifted over the years, a small treasure trove of important parts of their lives, now without you in them.

* Shrapnel stims a lot more now, and has nervous tics that he believes are the result of the loss of his dear friend. He knows you aren’t dead, least not yet, but he knows that you’ll likely never come back.

* Blockhead, as dumb as everybody thinks he is, is actually very emotionally intelligent. He has a way with words he barely understands, and [S/O] acted as a big support for someone like him. Without them now, he can no longer function like normal, and now has nobody left to talk to.

* Arachnid could care less. She absolutely despises [S/O], and would smite them for all she cares. You matter little to her, and only worry her for the loyalty and capacity of her troops.

* It isn’t until the Energon Eaters appear that everything turns completely south.

* [S/O] finally builds up enough courage to march themselves back down to the mine, and demand to meet Arachnid face-to-faceplate.

* The desert is hot, Nevada is hotter, and the trek down the highway seems endless and tedious. You pass by 5 interstate signs on your way to the hive, and count the steps it takes to reach the entrance, parched by the time you make it there.

* In all your sweaty glory, you, [S/O], make your way down the carved pathway into the mineshaft, dark and cramped—just as you left it.

* But everything is exactly as it was left, not an item out of place. The entire hive was empty, including of those you cared about. Their rooms are full of memories, and their energon cubes still lie in a corner, collecting dust and grime.

* The search seems profitable, yet it leaves you with nothing, and the emptiness of the hive echoes around you, and in all the chambers, through the cavern walls of every room.

* You know they’re gone, that they have left without you, and without so much as a simple passing note.

* Perhaps someday you’d find them, hiding away in another Jasper mine, but you never would.

* In their haze of a hive mind, they barely even remember the face of the human they left behind. A long line across the moon—stretching on for miles—and a vampire on a false throne, draining the lifeblood from their veins, and the image of [S/O] from their minds.

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✨ Hope you enjoyed ✨

#writing #transformers x reader #transformers imagine #transformers headcanon #tfp insecticons #transformers #transformers prime #tfp decepticons #x reader #tfp #insecticons #platonic reader

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sananaryon · 3 years ago

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The shooting in oslo

Sorry this isn’t quite my usual brand of nerdy fandom stuff, but this hits a bit close to home and I want people to know about it, especially since most of the sources are obviously Norwegian.

25th of June at around 1:14 am a shooter killed two people and injured 21 in a gay bar in Oslo.

The shooting started at the neighbouring bar Per på Hjørnet, and then moved down the street to London Pub, which is a prominent gay bar in downtown Oslo. Just to give you an idea, it’s just one block down from Oslo’s court house and a few blocks away from the parliament.

The shooting started outside, and two were killed. The number of injured is a bit unclear, but at least 21 were seriously injured, 8 of which enough to be taken to a hospital and 11 taken to a local clinic.

The queer community did what we do best and protected each other until the police showed up, giving medical attention to those who needed it and later helping the police locate and subdue the shooter.

The shooter is a 42 year old Norwegian citizen born in Iran who currently lives in Oslo (name not given because the investigation is ongoing). He has been under police investigation for gross violence before (possession of a knife, drug use, and violence against another person) and the security police have had him on a watchlist though haven’t disclosed why. He is believed to be the only shooter, although the police is still looking into possible connections.

The police are still puzzling out his motives but let’s not kid ourselves, it was a hatecrime, though they are also looking into his mental health records just to be thorough.

Police response

Before I continue, just to clear up the misconception; The Norwegian police is far from perfect, and I am absolutely holding them to the highest fucking standards and calling out their corruption and brutality. HOWEVER they are not the American police. They are not a blatantly racist organization that enforces an authoritarian system. With that out of the way;

The police were informed about the shooting at 1:14 am. At 1:20 they had the shooter, which is honestly good response time which can partially be credited to it happening literally between the courthouse and the parliament. The police later told the press that they were assisted by civilians in apprehending the shooter, though they haven’t disclosed the details yet.

The shooter is currently accused of murder, attempted murder, and terrorism, though the charges might change depending on the investigation. They do suspect that it’s a hate crime and believe his motive was to cause fear and terror, though won’t make any concrete statements about motivation yet.

The police has also declared that they will temporarily arm all officers in the entire country, which... fuck that.

Pride parade cancelled

The Oslo pride parade, which goes from the Grønland neighbourhood to the University Plaza between the parliament and the royal castle, along with every other event connected to Pride, has been cancelled on the recommendation of the police for security reasons (note that the police only recommended that we cancel it, and the actual decision was made by the organization Oslo Pride. Take from that what you will).

Personally I’m against that because it’s better to show that we can’t be silenced, but I can understand the concern.

Political Response

About what you’d expect. It happened 10 hours ago, and most of that time was night, so there hasn’t been time to give a proper political response. However, prime minister Jonas Gahr Støre, head of Oslo city council Raymond Johansen, and head of the storting (senate) Masud Gharahkhani have all gone out to condemn the shooting and expressed their sympathies with the queer community.

King Harald V has also expressed shock and horror, and wishes to reinforce the values of freedom, diversity and respect for everyone.

The Chief of Defense Erik Kristoffersen and his wife Linn Therese have also visited the site of the shooting and expressed both sympathies and frustrations that one man’s act of terror cancels the entire pride.

Sylvi Listhaugh, head of the far right party FRP has also expressed sympathies and concern that this will cause panic and fear, which... Yeah fuck her this is partially her fault.

The Norwegian State Church has given their support for Pride.

Sadiq Khan, mayor of London (the English capital) has expressed sympathies on twitter.

The parliament intends on having a press conference at 14:00 today.

Source:

NRK, the Norwegian national news serivce VG, Norwegian paper

#Real life stuff #queer stuff #tw gun violence #tw terrorism

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sevenkittensinatrenchcoat · 4 years ago

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You See: Jellylorum’s Arc and Why It’s the Best Grizabella Arc

Yeah, so, I got writer’s block trying to organize and write this properly, so I’m just writing off the top of my head. I can only hope that any of it makes sense.

I said that I might elaborate on Jellylorum’s hatred of pubs and Grizabella, and I decided to go ahead and do it, even though literally no one asked.

So, the general arc with Grizabella for most characters, especially Munkustrap and Bombalurina, is that Griz did something to offend everyone and they still hold a grudge, so they won’t let her back into the tribe, even though she might be literally dying. Then Grizabella sings Memory and everyone’s moved and they learn to forgive and Grizabella goes to the Heaviside Layer, which was probably Old Deuteronomy’s plan all along.

However, many people, even if they like Memory as a song, don’t really follow the Grizabella story. I’ve gotten the feeling that she’s not a popular character on this site, which is not helped by Munk and Bomba, much more popular characters, being against her for most of the show. The main problem with the forgiveness story is that the audience lacks any context. We don’t know what happened, so we don’t know if this is a story about forgiving someone for something petty, or forgiving someone who seriously wronged you. Most attempts to solve this problem fall flat. The 2019 film said that Grizabella went off with Macavity, but the movie had to alter the roles of several characters to get that to work. Mungojerrie worked for Macavity, and the tribe took him back. Demeter and Bombalurina had some sort of relationship with Macavity, and the tribe took them back. So, the movie makes Jerrie and Bomba more villainous and removes Demeter’s connection to Macavity, so Grizabella stands out. If you have to throw out large portions of what’s interesting about three characters to make your backstory make sense, it’s not a good backstory.

But, the show already sort of has a built in solution to this problem. While most of the characters hate Griz because of some past incident, there’s still at least one character arc about accepting Grizabella that’s based entirely on what the audience can see and hear.

This is where Jellylorum comes in.

If you pay close attention to how Jellylorum reacts to Grizabella, as well as to several other characters, you’ll notice that, though I’m sure she’s upset over whatever Griz did too, Jelly is not motivated by a grudge. It’s not about Grizabella’s past. It’s about her present.

Grizabella the Glamor Cat

Jellylorum, for the first few numbers, doesn’t really stand out. She’s always part of a larger group. In Gumbie Cat, she’s in a trio with two other queens. At this point, the audience really wouldn’t know what makes these characters stand out from one another. In Tugger’s number, Jelly is one of four older cats who are shocked and offended by Tugger’s antics, but the reactions of all four characters serve the same purpose. Jelly, Jenny, Skimble, and Asparagus are part of an older generation and they don’t get the things kids are into these days, finding them downright offensive.

If isn’t until Glamor Cat that this starts to change. At first, Jelly’s still the same as Jenny and Skimble, an older cat who stops the kittens from touching Grizabella. What’s different is how Griz reacts. Skimble leads Jemima away and Griz doesn’t comment. Jenny slaps Electra’s hand away and Griz doesn’t comment. But, when Victoria and Etcetera crawl towards her and Jelly runs in to stop them, Griz turns on her. Up until this point, the song has been fairly quiet. This is the first time Griz raises her voice, taking the orchestra with her.

You see the border of her coat is torn and stained with sand

Grizabella is dirty and beaten up by life and she accuses Jellylorum of responding to that, assuming that someone in Griz’s condition must be a threat to the children. This isn’t about a grudge. It’s about judging by appearances, specifically, the appearance of poverty, which will become more clear as we go.

When Demeter starts singing about Grizabella, she doesn’t sing about her glamorous past:

She haunted many a low resort

Near the grimy road of Tottenham Court

Tottenham Court Road, at the time this poem was written, was associated with crime. It’s a street in a lower class neighborhood which was infamous for theft and prostitution. So, Griz has been seen in a place where bad things happen. To think of her as a criminal is guilt by association.

The play decides not to tell us what Grizabella did to become an outcast, but it does tell us about her life as an outcast. From her character design, we can also see that Griz is in poor shape. This is the information the audience is actually given.

Bustopher Jones

Bustopher is easy to compare to Tugger, since the cats that don’t like Tugger all adore Bustopher. But, because we met Grizabella right before this, he can be compared to her too. Bustopher is everything the older cats see as ideal, while Griz is the opposite. Bustopher spends time among the rich in gentlemen’s clubs. Griz spends time in a working class neighborhood with a high crime rate. Even though they’re both probably strays, Bustopher presents as rich and Grizabellla presents as poor.

Just as different cats have different reasons for hating Grizabella, different cats have different reasons for liking Bustopher. For some, it’s his skill and gaining access to good food. Jenny has a crush on him. Misto likes that they look similar and that he’s the mature and sophisticated adult Misto wants to be. But, though Jellylorum’s part in the number is small compared to Jenny’s, the first thing she has to say about Bustopher is:

He doesn’t haunt pubs

Unlike gentlemen’s clubs, which are exclusive, pubs are everywhere and are for everyone. They’re frequented by the working class. Bustopher is only seen in the upper class parts of town.

Meanwhile, some of the locations Demeter mentions in Glamor Cat, The Rising Sun and The Friend at Hand are pubs. Bustopher doesn’t haunt pubs. Grizabella does.

The Glamor Cat Reprise:

So, a lot’s been implied about Jellylorum and how she admires things associated with the upper class and has disdain for things associated with the working class. But, this is where it all comes together. Grizabella accuses Jelly of treating her as someone to be feared and shamed because she’s from the bad side of town and looks it. Here, by repeating Grizabella’s words, Jelly confirms the accusation:

You see the border of her coat is torn and stained with sand

Jellylorum turns to Victoria, the pure white Symbol of Innocence who wears a sparkly pink collar, implying a wealthy owner, and points out that Griz is dirty and is both someone Victoria should avoid and strive not to be like. Victoria ignores her. Victoria is the feline equivalent of the sheltered princess, a proper young lady from a good family who hasn’t seen much of the world. But, Victoria is unaware of the implications of her status and sees someone like Grizabella as an equal. She doesn’t acknowledge class and doesn’t listen when adults try to explain it to her.

When Jellylorum pulls a kitten away from Grizabella, it’s always Victoria. The first time, it was Victoria and Etcetera, but Victoria is always involved. Victoria is never stopped by any other adult either. She seems to be Jelly’s responsibility, which creates and interesting contrast.

Gus: The Theatre Cat

After the Grizabella Reprise confirms that Jelly’s prejudice against Grizabella is based in classism, it would be easy to see her as a villain. The unspoken grudge of Munkustrap and Bombalurina is more sympathetic.

But, very early on in act two, Jellylorum is given the spotlight, and we can see her good side. Gus is a lot like Grizabella. They’re both old and past their prime, but they once were stars of some sort. But, Gus is loved and cared for by everyone. Grizabella is one her own.

Gus meets with his friends at the pub to tell theatre stories. You can tell from Jelly’s delivery when she brings it up that she’s not happy about this. But, she loves Gus anyway. Gus is old, his coat is a mess, and he hangs out in working class pubs, but Jellylorum loves him anyway. She’s perfectly capable of seeing beyond classist prejudice when it’s someone she already likes. She just hasn’t realized that Griz and Gus are the same. She can learn the lesson she needs to learn. She’s not a villain. She’s antagonistic, but she’s redeemable.

Memory

Griz appears one last time, Victoria tries to touch her, Jelly stops her. Same old, same old. Things don’t get interesting until everyone sits down. Jellylorum, along with Victoria, sits with Old Deuteronomy and Munkustrap. She’s right up there with the leaders of the tribe. This puts her on the same level as Munkustrap, who has his own lesson to learn from this.

Memory makes Jellylorum realize how much Grizabella is suffering. She’s not on Tottenham Court because she does bad things. She’s there because she’s in a bad situation and has nowhere else to go. Griz is also caught up in memories of her past like Gus is. Jelly, like everyone else in the tribe, figures it out.

When Victoria gets up to touch Grizabella, she looks back to the adults to get permission. Old Deuteronomy nods, letting her go ahead. But, it looks like all of the adults in that corner consulted each other. Munkustrap, at this moment, makes the decision to forgive Grizabella. Jellylorum, at this moment, makes the decision to accept Grizabella as an equal. She’s no longer beneath someone like Victoria.

Then, when all the cats greet and welcome Grizabella, Jelly looks very guilty, more so than the other older cats do. She’s realized just how petty she was being, that she was even worse to Griz than most of the tribe, because they either had a more emotionally-charged reason, or they just didn’t know any better.

Jelly’s story arc is a classic “don’t judge a book by its cover” story, with the symbols of class being the cover she judged.

In Conclusion:

Everything about this arc is based on information the audience is given. We can see that Grizabella is in bad shape. We know where she’s been spending her time because Demeter tells us. We can confirm Jelly’s motivation with the Grizabella reprise. We can compare how the characters of Gus and Griz are described:

You see the border of her coat is torn and stained with sand

vs.

His coat’s very shabby, he’s thin as a rake

Jellylorum sings the former line with disdain, but she sings the latter line with sympathy.

Jelly’s arc is where Grizabella stands out the most. Griz calls her out on her bullshit, is shown to be completely right in her judgement of her, and then is able to change her mind.

And, the emotional impact is all there, because no important information is hidden from the audience. The arc begins with the words “you see”, because you can.

#cats 1998 #jellylorum #grizabella #cats victoria #gus the theatre cat #bustopher jones #i did an essay #i had a surprising amount to say about that #jellylorum hates pubs #and it's actually important #class consciousness #but with singing cats #don't be a dick to poor people #this isn't edited #so i have no idea what typos it has #and i don't care right now #it's two o'clock in the morning #i give my last fuck at midnight

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mostlysignssomeportents · 4 years ago

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$50T moved from America's 90% to the 1%

Inequality requires narrative stabilizers. When you have too little and someone else has more than they can possibly use, simple logic dictates that you should take what they have.

The forbearance exercised by the many when it comes to the wealth of the few isn't down to guards or laws - rather, the laws and the guards are effective because of the *story*, the story of why this is fair, even inevitable.

Think of the story of monarchy and its relationship to the Church: the Church affirms that the monarch (and the aristocracy) was chosen by God ("dieu et mon droit") and the monarchy reciprocates by giving the Church moral and economic power within the kingdom.

Capitalism replaced the story of divine will with a story of a self-correcting complex system: humans are born and raised with a variety of aptitudes and tastes, and at any moment, historical exigencies dictate that some individuals are better suited than others to do well.

When it's railroad time, there are people who were born to oversee the laying of track and the coordination of rail networks: markets find those people, allocate capital to them, and allow them to mobilize that capital to produce shared prosperity for all of us.

They get a larger slice of the pie than the people who lay the tracks, but they also made the pie bigger - their wealth represents three goods:

The incentive to make us all better off,

a reward for doing so, and

proof they earned it.

Implicit in this theory is the idea that markets are elevating people based on their suitability to a time and circumstance, for the benefit of us all.

You didn't strike it rich because you just weren't the right person to lead in your time and place.

But because the right person *did* strike it rich, your life - and the lives of the people you love - were all improved. Your kids got a better start, and they might turn out to be the right person in the right place when they grow up.

That's the true significance of rags-to-riches: not that anyone can strike it rich, but that the people who did strike it rich deserved it, and anything you do to stop them will make YOU worse off, because they know how to maximize all our wellbeing in this moment.

But that's not actually how it works. As Thomas Piketty showed in CAPITAL IN THE 21ST CENTURY, the biggest predictor of whether you'll get rich is whether you're rich already:

https://memex.craphound.com/2014/06/24/thomas-pikettys-capital-in-the-21st-century/

Markets reward capital at a higher rate than they reward growth. Bill Gates founded the most successful company in world history, but made less money from it than L'Oreal heiress (and useless parasite) Liliane Bettencourt made over the same period.

But then Gates retired and became an investor - someone who allocated capital to people who did things, rather than doing things himself. And almost immediately, his fortune grew larger than either Bettencourt's or Gates-as-founder's had.

All other things being equal, markets allocate capital to people who have capital, not people who have ideas that will make us all better off, and so the story begins to break down. The tale of meritocracy is hard to credit when the richest people started off rich.

If that's a meritocracy, then it's a *hereditary* meritocracy, an idea straight out of eugenics. In a hereditary meritocracy, markets don't serve to locate people with the best ideas for this moment and place - rather, they locate people with the best blood.

Think of how many times we heard Trump boast about his "good blood." Capitalism went full circle, becoming a new form of monarchism, where the hereditarily wealthy assert their right to rule by dint of the divine scripture of neoliberal economists who assure us all is well.

But being born rich doesn't make you a good capital allocator, it makes you a useless parasite. Some might escape the prison of birth to parasitehood, but they don't have to - you can be Donald Trump, or Don Jr, and still amass millions.

When our capital allocations are dominated by plutes, we end up in a society where evidence-based policy can only be made if it doesn't gore a plute's ox, and the plutes own all the oxen. So we end up with lethal healthcare, agriculture, climate and other policies.

We see the evidence of this daily, in headlines like "Inadequate healthcare has killed more Americans than Covid":

"The US trailed the rest of the advanced world in life expectancy since the 1980s... it's 3.4 years shorter than other G7 countries."

https://qz.com/1971415/poor-life-expectancy-in-the-us-causes-over-400000-excess-deaths/

Death and privation chip away at the narrative of beneficial inequality, a system that elevates those who do the best for us all. I think we're at an inflection point now, as the storylines that started with Occupy are proven out by the pandemic and leap to the mainstream.

How else to explain Time headlines like "The Top 1% of Americans Have Taken $50 Trillion From the Bottom 90%—And That's Made the U.S. Less Secure"?

https://time.com/5888024/50-trillion-income-inequality-america/

The article reports on a Rand Corporation paper that estimates the wealth of the bottom 90% if American wealth distribution had held steady at the postwar levels, the most equal America had been since manumission.

https://www.rand.org/pubs/working_papers/WRA516-1.html

It traces the real consequences of this inequality - the health and lifespan difference, the political instability, the mounting budget for guard labor to restabilize a system made untenable by the near-universal breakdown in a belief in its fairness.

"Are you a typical Black man earning $35,000 a year? You are being paid at least $26,000 a year less than you would have had income distributions held constant."

"Are you a college-educated, prime-aged, full-time worker earning $72,000? Depending on the inflation index used (PCE or CPI, respectively), rising inequality is costing you between $48,000 and $63,000 a year."

Systems are stabilized by law and the force of the state, but these are rounding errors compared to the stability imparted by narrative, the consensus that things are fair. Once you lose that, no amount of guard labor can keep it all from toppling over.

#pluralistic

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juminly · 4 years ago

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As The Rush Comes (Ikémen Vampire Theodorus Van Gogh x Reader)

Summary: You are at a nightclub with your friend Theodorus Van Gogh. The problem is, you want to be more than friends. Does he feel the same? Hell yes. Change is bound to happen. And it does. This one-shot was inspired by the song As the Rush Comes. Read all 3 parts on AO3. Rating: Mature (explicit/coarse language, detailed mention of sexual acts)

Tags: Modern AU, mutual pining, sexual tension/frustration, jealousy, dirty dancing.

Warning: mention of the reader not remembering the events of a past night of heavy drinking and partying. Word Count: 3500 approx.

Club Music Playlist *Kiss you by Nadia Ali **Down to Love (Kyau & Albert Remix) by Armin Van Buuren feat. Ana Criado

***Still I Wait (Richard Durand’s In Search of Sunrise Remix) by Jonas Steur feat. Jennifer Rene.

Song lyrics are in bold; look at this asterisks to know which song is playing in the background and play the song as you read -------------------------- *I'd wake up, and make love to you if I had you, I would touch you so much, but I'm not allowed to… Nadia Ali, bless her heart, was only adding salt to your wounds. You were already feeling salty enough for feeling the way you did and she didn’t make it any better. Why were you salty? While the song went on and on about how the vocalist just needed to wait for the perfect moment to kiss the one she wanted to show love to, you were here lamenting pathetically over Theodorus Van Gogh, the man that occupied your every waking thought and dream… and most recent fantasies.

The music was thrumming loudly in your ears, the discographies selected by this particular local DJ was always to your liking. The rhythmic beat of trance sending the club-goers into an ephemeral state of rapture as the dancefloor flocked with writhing bodies, the scent of alcohol, sweat and sex heady in the air. Were people living in some sort of state of drought? The thirst was real… and so palpable. You were not one to judge, you felt it too.

Thud… Thud… Thud… Was that the music or your pulse? You couldn’t tell anymore.

Would you pretend, we're only friends, if I kissed you, At least I can dream of you in a scene, when I'd kiss you.

You’ve dreamed of so many scenes, in so many different locations and in all of them, you were in the most compromising situations and positions. Holy fuck, just thinking about how those icy blue eyes staring into you while he lazily ran his tongue over his swollen lips, the ones you wanted to kiss and bite so damn much, that chiseled body of his positioned between your… No.. No… You told yourself you wouldn’t go there but your mind couldn’t help but wander. The song had just been coaxing you to act on your impulses and you covered your ears, just to keep Nadia from tempting you more than you already were.

How many months has it been since the incident?

The office hottie, Arthur Conan Doyle, had thrown an extravagant birthday bash in his so-called crib, and to your own surprise, the man had exquisite taste and the entire thing was planned immaculately. Who had been his wingman during the entire process? The hot mister that was your companion at the club for the night. That was how, when and where you met him, much to your dismay.

You heard that things had gotten hot and heavy between you during that birthday party and you were literally flung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and carried into Arthur’s bedroom. Things had gotten that heated… However, big emphasis on the word “heard” cause you unfortunately don’t remember jackshit from that fateful night and cursed yourself all the time for this.

His hands roughly groping you and his lips fiercely crashing down on yours… The things that could’ve happened… The things you could’ve done… You could ONLY imagine. Imagine, yes. Remember, no. The heavens indisputably had some mocking plot to make you miserable. Miserable? You definitely were. After that night, you were thrown into the friendzone. With a capital F.

Pining after a man that wouldn’t lay a finger on you unless it was to ruffle your hair like some puppy. You almost got your chance at some type of romance in your uneventful life… Still, things only got interesting when that asshole suddenly showed up, but it wasn’t like you were actually willing to admit that to him. You’d rather swallow his… Brain and heart, focus. Libido and hormones, get the fuck away. He wants me… He wants me not… I want everything he’s got.

Shut it, Nadia. You were already drowning in heaps of doubt and you’ve clearly… clearly had enough of her feeding you more fantasies and unlawful and excessively unadulterated thoughts and you were doubting yourself already. And what you decided to do? Drink yourself into oblivion, accompanied by the vexing perpetrator who had just gotten back from the men’s room. It was admiration and pining time for you. As he slowly approached you with long and sure strides, Theodorus was, is and will always be probably the most gorgeous, handsome piece of eye-candy that you’ve ever laid your eyes on and you were 99.99% sure that this statement was your true and unbiased opinion.

Beige dress pants hugged the length of those legs that carried him, giving you the chance to drool over the definition of his stature that you could see thanks to the tightness of the fabric, emphasizing a bit too much for your liking on his… No, don’t go there. Heat flooded your reddened cheeks as your thoughts scrambled wildly in your mind as he found his seat next to you. That’s always where you found yourselves. Together. Always. You get along so well. It’s bound to be this way, right? The string of fate and the butterflies of time managed to find a way to bring you together. While your internal ruminations besieged your mind, a rich baritone touched your ears, unmistakably his. “We probably should leave soon. I don’t want to suffocate in this clothed orgy.” You shot him an inquisitive look, silently asking him to elaborate on his point. “You look like you’re about to melt in that pretty little dress of yours, Hondje. I’d rather hop to any pub or have a drink at that klootzak’s place and deal with his moaning than this. At least his place isn’t as filthy as this hellish kennel.”

“You talk like an old man, Theo. Why don’t we just try to live a little?” He simply gave you a glare, a response that you knew very well. He wasn’t going to waste his breath on such mundane frivolities. It seemed that you would have to take the drinking party elsewhere. Clubs were clearly not Theo’s favourite destination.

You couldn’t help but giggle at this man’s dog analogies. As much as they pissed the shit out of you… Wait. Rewind. Did he just compliment what you were wearing...? He noticed?

For the first time in a while, you decided to try “letting loose” and go for something different. You would usually go for something, more like, anything black but today was different. In celebration of whatever weird feeling and eccentricity that came over you, you decided to go for a skimpy off-the-shoulder purple dress that kissed every curve of your luscious form, barely reaching the top of your mid-thigh and pushed your bosom in a way that accentuated your cleavage. You felt hot and you wanted to feel hot too.

**It's down to love tonight, This is where we are, As we turn into the light, Let’s make it last...

On any other day, Down to Love would’ve been one of your favourite songs to listen to but definitely not today. You were clearly not down to any kind of love. This is not where you wanted to be and you didn’t want this to last. You growled under your breath, enough to have Theodorus, the man of the hour… no, he was the man of your every-fucking-day and your every-goddamn-dream and fantasy, tilt his head to the side to cast a judging gaze at you, raising an arched eyebrow with a silent what-the-fuck is wrong with you.

There was so much that was wrong with you and he was the cause of it all. The prime suspect. The only one, this maddeningly handsome asshole.

Lips slick with moisture, your eyes lingered a little too long on the inviting gleam before you attempted to relax in your seat, while Theo remained hunched apathetically over the bar counter, nursing his drink thoughtlessly. Both of you were so accustomed to whatever it was that you were doing, you fell into a pattern that soon began to feel more like a ritual. You couldn’t even remember how you became his drinking buddy but there was something that Arthur said once… Both of you were not the type to party hard so it made it hard for him to have fun with the both of you, even though Theo and him spent an obscene amount of time together. You were kindred spirits. That was a fact.

Being around him made it hard to breathe. You noticed that not only the first button of his shirt was open, but now, the second one was too, giving you a good look of impeccably sculpted pectorals, his skin shining under the epilepsy-inducing lights of the nightclub while drops of sweats meandered down to places unknown, unexplored… and desired. With one arm propped on the counter and leaning his full weight to one side, his form was completely angled towards you and his eyes roamed appraisingly over your provocative dress and your overall physique. You knew that look, you’ve seen it before. It was the same way he scrutinized and examined art.

His gaze was now posed on your thighs, your dress hiked up even more on your silky skin as you crossed and uncrossed your legs restlessly. “Looking at something, big guy? My eyes are up here. You’ve been checking me out since we got here.” you quipped with a smirk. “Hm?” he hummed, as if you had ripped him away from the depth of his thoughts. You could see a faint blush on the top of his cheekbones… It was clearly only a sign of inebriation. Right? “Oh, I was just wondering who you’re trying to seduce.” he replied blankly before continuing. “You wouldn’t need to dress up like this to impress me.” His tongue swiped over his lower lip, wettening it before throwing his head back, draining his glass of whiskey and turning his body away, leaving you perplexed by his words. What… What exactly did he mean by that? Shaking your thoughts away, you had enough wine in your system to finally get the words spilling from your lips. “Theo… Wanna dance?” Those three words prickled his ear drums and he turned to look at you with a judging smirk. “Is it playtime, Hondje?” You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms at his expected remark, climbing off your bar stool and tapping your heeled foot on the black tile beneath you. Looking at him expectantly, your heart clenched, momentarily regretting your decision to build up the courage to take the first step. He was bound to embarass you somehow.

“I’m sure you can find lots of other pups and mutts to play with in that disgusting pile of bodies.” An affronted expression washed over his handsome face and you resisted the need to slap his smugness away. You began to tremble slightly and snapped at him “You suck, Theo!”. His reaction made you freeze for a second. His eyes were taking you in, gliding over your body from head to toe before locking with yours. “Would you like to take me for a test drive? Are you in heat, Hondje?” he practically purred.

“Fuck you, Theo.” Was he capable of doing anything but frustrate (and arouse) you? You could feel an intense heat building inside of you, your heart beating angrily in your chest as you seethed from his response. You blinked, completely outraged and offended as he dared to freaking chuckle at your contained outburst.

“You wish. Now, can you go bark at someone else and let me enjoy my bloody drink?” Not wanting to give him more of your precious time, you actually flipped him the bird this time, scowling at him in disbelief, all that wine in your blood giving way for your tongue to sharpen as the night went on. “Do you always have to be such an ass?”

The ear-splitting grin on Theo’s face suddenly transformed into a smirk… and a scowl? when a young man behind you asked you to dance. You couldn’t really register what the guy was saying. Something along the lines of “ I don’t know if he’s just stupid or blind” and honestly, you kind of agreed with him. As much as Theodorus Van Gogh was a genius at what he did, he was stupid for not giving in to you. You were ready to give him… your everything. You were in deep shit, being so in love with a man who would possibly not return your affections? He looked like the incarnation of heartbreak and didn’t that just make you giddy? Being around him almost made you… sarchotic.

Sarchotic or not. Now you had his full attention.

Those ocean blue eyes were trained on you, an unfamiliar predatorial aura reverberating from him, still seeping through Theodorus’ attempt to enshroud it with the negligible quirk of those lips, that half-smile that you knew too well. If he wanted a show, he’s gonna be getting one. Not that you really cared whether he enjoyed it or not, but the least you could do is actually enjoy the company of the… You looked at your newly appointed dance partner, who had just lead you to the dancefloor, to evaluate him.

Okay, he wasn’t too bad: a bit shorter and less muscular than Theo but his hair were waves of chocolate brown that were simply asking to be threaded through and pulled. You beamed at your partner, feeling a rush of adrenaline course through your blood, knowing that the handsome Dutch man had his eyes on you and you were going to put a damn show. Wait, it wasn’t a show. You were doing this for you. You didn’t give a fuck and just wanted to have some fun. Looking at the cutie in front of you, you raised your arms in the air and jumped to the beat of the music, body-rolling as you let the sinful rhythm of your racing thoughts lead your every movement. ***I wanted it, I needed it, I love the way your skin felt upon my skin, And I thought you felt the same but you threw me away, Threw me away and still

The man in front of you was definitely getting into the groove, slowly inching close to you and you were more than ready to welcome him. Your hands that were in the air were now resting on his shoulders, your fingers finding the inviting chocolate strands of his hair. His hands were on both sides of your hips, claiming control over the frantic sway of your hips, matching the booming tempo that filled the room. You licked your lips and bit them, feeling your heart race as you snuck a quick look at the bar counter, the expression on Theodorus’ face was absolutely feral… and bloodthirsty.

Good thing you had bitten your lips because you were about to let out an obscene moan as he looked like he was ready to slam you into a wall and fuck you senseless, growling in your ear: You’re already so wet for me, Hondje, so ready for me to slide inside you…. You’ve been teasing me all damn night and when I stuff you with my cock, make you mine… You’ll be screaming my name. A looming presence was suddenly behind you, a hand gripping your hip and forcefully pulling you away from the “cutie”. You had absolutely no idea what happened, when it happened and how it happened. You could’ve sworn that you heard something along the lines of “She’s mine” but it was most probably your brain playing tricks on you. Or not.

“Are you trying to play games with me, Knabbeltje?” His heavy hand on your hip clenched tightly, his fingertips digging in your soft flesh while you drank in the rumble of his voice in your ear, velvety smooth yet deep enough to shake you to the bone, capable of making your knees buckle in weakness. You fought the temptation to rub your legs together and continued the lascivious sway of your hips from side to side in a rhythm that was your own and one that Theodorus would come to learn. Cutie, who? Theodorus was the only person you knew. All your senses acutely aware of him and he made sure of that. Only a breath of air seperated your bodies yet, he was so close but still felt so far before he yanked your back brusquely, your back hitting the vast plain of his chest and the softness of your derriere grazing his crotch. You closed your eyes and hummed with a nonchalant tone, your back arching as you reached your arms behind you, gripping Theo by his nape and threading your digits leisurely through his chestnut locks.

“You really want to know, hm?” You crooned and he tensed briefly but soon relaxed behind you, one hand caressing the curve of your hips, his hold on you was firm and steady, making you feel the heat radiating from his body and enveloping you with the scent of his cologne mixed with whiskey, intoxicating you even more than the wine you drank.

One of his large hands snakes up the curve of your waist, lightly grazing the side of your soft mound and trailing up your neck and resting there. He rolled his hips against yours, your body following his every moment as he dictated your every single motion. The warmth of his breath tickled your ear as he crooned sultrily in your ear. “I could eat you all up, Knabbeltje… right fucking now.” I don't wanna feel rejection, don't wanna have no regrets… Is this a good decision or will you look for someone else? Leave me all by myself...

“Is that so?” you could hear your own smile in your voice and could hear an inherent raspiness in it too. Your thoughts swiveled with yearning and your judgement was clouded by your love for this man… and your inebriation. Your mutual ministrations continued as he grinded his hips at an excruciating pace, drawing out the torture that you were both suffering from. His long fingers were now teasing the column of your neck, careening over your sensitive skin and sending shivers up and down your spine. Slowly, he wrapped his hand on your neck, pressing only lightly and bit the tip of your earlobe before sucking on it, letting his tongue glide over its seams. “I wouldn’t say it if it weren’t true. You want me to repeat myself?”

“I didn’t say any such thing, Theodorus.” You dared to use his full name, intentionally triggering him. His grip tightened on your neck and warm breath caressing your ear. “I’m not all bark like you.” He truly thought that you were all bark but you were prepared and intended to do lots of biting, now that he was so near. You tightened your grip on his strands, making him groan in response. “I hate that you make me feel this way.” you breathed out slowly, trying to ignore the tightening of anticipation rousing in your chest. “Enlighten me… What kind of way do I make you feel, hm?” It was now his turn to tease you. “You know how I feel about you…” you pouted, grudgingly taking a sharp inhale before you carried on with this morphed, semblance of a confession. “You keep… you keep messing with my head, Theo.”

“You’re doing much worse to me, mijn liefste.” Oh God, you didn’t know what he said but you were positive that it was not some dog related insult and your heart drummed even harder in your chest. Why did this man have so much control over you? His voice was like whiskey and chocolate, dark, decadent and heavy with yearning, a blazing fire in your core, an excited tremor coursed through your veins like lightning, but not once did you rush the wicked to and fro of your hips, brushing your softness against the harsh ropes of sinew that made him the Adonis that he was.

Your cheeks were rosy as the pink dusk that painted clear skies and he saw that as you twisted your chest to look back and up at him. His fierce stare reflected in your glimmering eyes, your pupils dilating clearly, making them appear almost darkened in their shade. It would be blasphemous to say that Theodorus was anything but completely mesmerizing. “Don’t give me those eyes, Knabbeltje... or I promise I’ll take you here and now.”

I love to see you smile, I love, my love… As much as the thought had you reeling, you wanted the awaited spectacle to be a private one. Gazing straight in his almost glowing orbs of sapphire, he had the look of a man who was born ready to ravage you and rearrange your insides. Leaning down, he drawled against your lips with a huskiness that sent you into a frazzled state of need.

“When I fuck you, I’m going to make sure you always remember it. The only thing that’s gonna spill from those pretty lips is my name.”

------------ Read Part II HERE. Tagging le Theo simp squad + those who have been so kind to send me their ideas on what the “dirty dancing scenario” should be like: @delicateikemenmemes @sweetlittlemouse @nad-zeta @nafeary @raymiazaki @munarisblog @karmaaf (sorry if I forgot anyone else) Hope you enjoyed this 💜 Please feel free to leave comments/feedback! Masterlist

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikemen vampire theo #ikemen vampire theodorus #ikevamp theo #theodorus van gogh #ikevamp theo x reader #ikemen vampire scenario #ikemen vampire fanfic #ikemen vampire theo x reader #ikevam theo #theo van gogh #ikemen series #otome #cybird

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pale-silver-comb · 5 years ago

Note

I have a meta question for you. As much as we would love to believe that our Leverage babies will be taking down the baddies forever. Eventually, especially for Eliot as his body is abused more often than the other two, they will have to retire from actively working cons. Do you see them training the younger generation to one day take over for them? Similar to the Avengers at the end of AOU.

I LOVE IMAGINING THE OLDER OT3.

I think Hardison and Parker would very much stay in the game - adapting their roles as they got older - but I think Eliot would eventually semi-retire. He even tells Sophie that’s how he sees his future, running “Hardison’s pub”. (Like that boy didn’t buy it FOR YOU, Eliot.)

I think Eliot would still go on jobs - particularly jobs that meant something to him - but largely I think his life would become about running and cooking for the brewery and maybe bringing in kids/young adults to teach them skills and help them get back on their feet. If the OT3 did adopt older kids, or bring older kids in to train, you bet Eliot is teaching them how to cook and that each one of those kids will have at least a Saturday job working under Eliot at the brewery as long as they are with the team.

(I have this thing it would 100% be older kids they took on, rather than adults. Older kids who have been crushed, cheated or let down by the system. Parker and Hardison have a particular interest in this, knowing what it’s like growing up in the foster system, but it’s always Eliot who is bringing kids in, a sucker from day 1. Even if the kids aren’t interested in the Robin Hood gig, he’s still teaching them the art of crème brûlée, okay?? Stop looking at him like that Hardison, crème brûlée trains you in at least 17 different skills, including self-defense!)

As much as I hate the idea of things coming to an end, I can totally imagine Parker training new master-minds, Hardison teaching the next world-class baby-hackers, and Eliot training kids to defend themselves. These kids learning to grift on the job from Parker, Hardison and Eliot much like Sophie taught them to grift better on the job. One of the kids managing to perfect Hardison’s video-game based con, The Double Pronged Monkey (he’s so proud).

And just like that, suddenly there are just mini-Leverage teams across the world, all trained by the very best. But more importantly, supported to become a family by the very best. Some of them even do the odd job with Sophie and Nate when they cross paths.

I think out of everyone Parker would get pretty restless staying in the one place over the years. Portland is home but I think the OT3 would travel a lot the older they got: Parker seeing it as prime locations for cons, Hardison seeing each one as a well-earned vacation, and Eliot grumbling the whole time but always instantly made happy when he finds some new ingredient for a recipe to bring back to the brewery. (That and he’s just a big ol’ softie who is content so long as he’s with Hardison and Parker and they aren’t causing too much trouble.)

Also can we please just imagine Hardison making things to keep them comfortable as their bodies get that bit older? Like installing a heated pad into Parker’s harnesses because her hip is a little stiffer these days. Custom making a mattress for the three of them to sleep on because Eliot can’t sleep on a firm mattress like he used to without feeling sore the next day.

Eliot squeezing fresh orange juice for Hardison every morning for, like, forty years, because it’s the only way Hardison will be tempted away from starting each day with orange soda. Parker is harder to dissuade which is why Eliot also always finds himself making her whatever she asks for every morning and doing his best to load it with vitamins.

Parker making sure Eliot takes his “old-man” medication, which annoys Eliot to no end. But he can’t refuse because she always brings it to him in a wee cup which she’s personally drawn a happy face on and proceeds to change to a frowny face if he begins to protest. (It’s better for everyone if he just takes the damn meds before she starts giving the face The Sad Voice.)

Oh. Also. They have a dog. They 1000% have a dog. Sometimes two, if one has happened to follow Eliot home or Parker has decided one was looking just a little too sad at the shelter. Hardison has a permanent subscription to several different dog-food companies because each dog they foster always has some kind of specific food needs due to health problems orrrrrr have become terribly fussy after being exposed to Eliot’s cooking for longer than a week.

Honestly, I could talk about older Parker, Hardison and Eliot all day. I love reading all the posts and fics about it. It makes me terribly happy!

(Pssssst, Eliot gets to live to a very old age, okay? He's prepared to die for Hardison and Parker - expects it, even - but THAT. IS. NOT. WHAT. HAPPENS. They all get to grow very old and very happy together. Okay??? Okay.)

#leverage ot3 #leverage #talk leverage to me

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imagineclaireandjamie · 5 years ago

Text

Shielded. Chapter One

ANON: Courage is being scared to death but saddling up anyway. [John Wayne]

Since the beginning of lockdown here in the UK, I’ve been making little notes here and there and I’ve finally put something together that is hopefully interesting. It’s set from the start of our isolation back on Friday 20th March and will work its way forwards in time <3 enjoy! Mod MBD.

-- --- --

The Daily Briefing:

She left under the cover of darkness, the atmospheric sheet rain appearing out of nowhere to conceal her as she hid the doorway of a boarded up shop. The ‘closed’ signs that littered the windows of each and every shop on the highstreet illuminated as the lights flickered on, the daylight fading as night enveloped the south of England. It should have been a regular Friday evening, but it wasn’t. And despite the shock of the rest of the nation, she was more than happy for the lockdown to take immediate effect.

A couple of the pubs were still open, the last of their punters being ushered out by groups of policemen and women as the 9pm curfew approached, and though there was still some footfall through the small village, it wasn’t enough to worry her greatly.

She remembered reading YA fiction that started in a similar way and the idea that the whole population might be reduced to some dystopian teen nightmare seemed more than plausible. But at least she’d be far away from society by the time it did. Wondering whether Suzanne Collins and Veronica Roth were somewhere together, raising a glass to their literary insight into such things, she pulled her jacket tighter around her neck to stop the droplets of water running down her chest.

The honk of a horn brought her out of her thoughts as she grabbed her meagre belongings and hid her face from the rain. Getting herself settled in the back of the blacked out van, there was a part of her that scoffed at the idea of danger lurking within as the plain-clothed officers escorting her smiled softly, passing her a towel to wipe the stray drips of moisture from her face. As a child she had, of course, been warned about strangers in vehicles. Now though there were more monsters lurking in her own home than there were anywhere else in the country.

“You might want to get some sleep, if you can, miss.” One of the younger officers said, breaking the silence even with his moderately quiet statement. “It’s a long drive, we’re aiming for eight hours if we can, but it will all depend on the roads.”

Nodding, she pulled a woolen blanket from one of her bags, removed her coat and curled herself against the window. Though she thought sleep impossible, she did manage to doze a little as the car made its way towards the motorway. Her mind went blank as they sped up, she’d spent weeks agonising over this choice, the solid notion of it taking root in her subconscious as the country seemed to spin towards chaos and confusion.

The virus, however, had not been her primary concern. Only her mental and physical survival had taken precedent. It was the prime minister's announcement yesterday that schools and pubs would close the following week that spurred her onwards, and she’d (rather rapidly) responded to the offer she had been levelled with.

If she wanted to disappear, now was her chance.

“John wants you to know that he’s processed the documents you’re going to need and included a shielding letter with that. This should take you until the end of June as well as the furlough payments. He also says you did the right thing.”

Making incomplete thumps against her chest, her heart stopped for a moment as the police officer spoke. She’d been warring with herself for weeks, uncertain of the best course of action. She had, of course, lived with the increasing threat for years before it had finally erupted. John had seen the outcome and had begged her to reconsider his previous offer of assistance having watched her descend into a less than perfect relationship. But she had been convinced that she’d be able to manage.

She hadn’t. An obvious change had taken hold of her husband. He wasn’t the man she married, not by a long shot, and as 2019 came to a close, so did any of his positive attributes. He was a professor, a professional man with many books to his name and he refused to believe his actions had become that of a less than ideal partner.

The first stay in hospital, however, stated otherwise.

“Will I be able to speak to him?”

The officer shook his head sadly. “No, if this is to work, you have to sever all contact with anyone you previously knew, even John. Anything that puts you at risk or could enlighten the wrong people into knowing your whereabouts would jeopardize all of the work we’ve all put in to assure your safety.”

Having had the mood suitably dulled, she lay her head against the window and let several hundred miles pass her by.

As they crossed the border around midnight, the rain finally began to ease and she smiled at the irony. She hadn’t spent much time in Scotland, but she knew it wasn’t famous for its notoriously glorious weather. Part of her was desperate for some coffee but the further they travelled up the country, the less likely it was that the service stations were 24 hours - nor did she think her drivers would be willing to stop until they’d reached their destination.

Once off the motorway and onto the single track roads that led them further into the highlands, she started to guess at where their final destination might be. When the proposition had first been offered to her, John had given her a number of options of a safe haven - one being a flight away (by that point he had started to take her safety quite seriously). As the grey scenery passed them by, a slight pinking of the sky signalling that dawn was close, she was trying to recall the names of the places he’d suggested though her mind was as much of a blur as the greenery whooshing by the back window.

“I don’t suppose you have anything caffeinated to drink?” She asked.

Reaching forward, she took the unopened bottle of coke from one of her escorts and relaxed back into her seat.

“Not far away now. There aren't any toilets, though.”

Fatigue was running deep, she could tell by the tiredness in his voice as he spoke and she nodded as she took a sip. The warning was clear; drink it all quickly and there would be no stopping for a break. But she was too thirsty to worry too much.

“Can I ask where we’re going?”

“Just north-west of Inverness. It’s a farm so it’s as remote as they come. It’s single occupancy, the guy who lives there runs his family business. He’s an old contact of John’s, so although there is to be no contact between you, he trusts you’re in safe hands. All shopping is pre organised and will be delivered once every two weeks to ensure neither of you are put at risk leaving the property for supplies.”

“Should I leave the house at all?” At this point she couldn’t tell whether she was being sarcastic or not but there was an honesty to her question that made the officers answer her quickly.

“No. You have your letter, not that there is anyone around to ask for it, but for the next 12 weeks you should remain inside at all times. No matter how far we take you away from civilization there is always the risk - even during a national pandemic and lockdown - of someone being around, seeing you and passing it on. Where we’re taking you, the owner hasn’t had another friend or family on the property for a number of years. Small communities talk so you should stay inside and out of the view of any members of the local village.”

“Noted.” Replying sadly, she replaced the cap on the half finished bottle of cola and ran her fingers along the inside of her leg. The scar there was still fresh, the heat of it making the hairs on her arms stand on end. She knew that if she wanted this to work, if she wanted to remain hidden, then she would have to obey the rules set.

They drove through Inverness just as 5am hit and the sun rose across the extensive lochs and mountains.

“It might seem far-fetched, the idea that you’ll be located, but we can’t take the risk. We did look through your file, though, and found a name we hope has some resonance to you.” *but nobody else* he thought, but did not say.

“Thank you, I really appreciate it. Please pass that on to John, I didn’t even get the chance to tell him how grateful I am. For everything.” Her intrigue had been piqued about her new identity but once she knew who she was going to be for the next few weeks, it would all become real. Whilst they still hadn’t arrived, she could sit and pretend to be existing in an in between - half way between fantasy and reality.

As they pulled off one side-road and onto another her driver passed her an envelope. She could see a small smile lift the side of his mouth as an archway came into view in front of them. “Of course I will, Claire.”

“Claire?”

“Yes,” he returned, bringing his arm up and pointing his finger at the brown packet in her hands, “it’s all in there...the rest of it. Read it, keep the ID documentation and then burn anything you don’t need to use later.”

“Claire.” She whispered to herself.

And in one breath, as a rather large white brick farm house appeared beneath the now large ivy coated arch, Elizabeth Randall died and she instantly became Claire Beauchamp.

#anonymous #ask #;mod mbd #shielded #featuring: john grey #jamie x claire #ficlet #isolation creation

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hexandbalances · 4 years ago

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Visiting Salem

A few years ago I traveled to Salem for Halloween week. It was a fun trip but not at all the quaint town I had expected. And it was busy. Salem eagerly leans into its witch history and new age spiritualism, sporting many psychic readings and occult shops. To be honest, a large part of my stay was spent walking, shopping, and eating so I didn’t get to visit as quite as many museums as I would have liked. I’ve included a brief review of some of the places I stopped in at while I was there:

Jolie Tea - this was tucked away from the Essex Street pedestrian mall, which made it the perfect place to escape the crowds and blustery wind. They had a selection of seasonal tea blends made in shop. I stopped in several times and took several pounds of tea back as a visiting gift for my aunt. I know it’s an odd compliment but I’m in love with their upholstery and the wallpaper in their restroom. Very limited seating (only 3 tables, one of which only seats two people), but quiet enough at the times I went as to not be a problem.

Count Orlok’s Nightmare Gallery - located on Essex street (the main thoroughfare, foot traffic only) this gallery houses memorabilia and trivia from classic and modern horror cinema. I recommend it if you fancy yourself a horror movie buff. Tickets were $9 for adults and did not need to be purchased in advance. The tour is self guided, walk in any time.

O'Neill’s Pub & Restaurant - honestly I popped in here just intending to use the facilities and get off my feet for a bit but they sell the best pumpkin ale I’ve had to date. The rim is dusted with cinnamon sugar and the head is dusted with a crescent moon of spice. I enthusiastically returned twice a day for the duration of the trip (I was on holiday after all). Their shepherd’s pie was quite good and the waitresses were happy to share insider advice on the best places to park, how to avoid traffic, etc.

Howard Street Cemetery - I visited this cemetery under the impression that the headstone for Giles Corey was there. It wasn’t. There was a memorial at one time but it was toppled by a vandal in 2015. Nevertheless it was a nice, quiet place to stop and take a breather from the crowds.

The Witch House - this is a bit of a misnomer as the house belonged to Jonathan Corwin, one of the judges of the trials. The house is the only structure left in the city that has direct ties to the trials and gives a much more authentic impression of daily life. The tour is self guided but there are volunteers stationed throughout ready to talk about particular items or history of the individuals that resided there. They have a limited capacity they’re required to stick to because of the house’s age so you may be in for a bit of a wait if you catch it during a busy hour. Tickets are about $10 for adults, sold in the gift shop.

Salem Witch Museum - They start the tour by seating visitors in a dark theatre. A recording plays, lighting up vignettes at scheduled points. These vignettes are maybe roughly 9 feet up from where you will be seated, not in sequential order, and cover a full 360° so swiveling your head up and around to find it is necessary. The recording and displays are rather dated; my guess is that they haven’t been changed since the museum’s founding in 1972 (to be honest I was rather expecting Vincent Prince to narrate). After this the group is lead into a small gallery with various placards and pop culture and news printouts. A guide will deliver a brief monologue and then you are free to view the gallery or filter into the gift shop.

I was rather perturbed that the museum spent effort linking hysteria of the Salem witch trials to McCarthyism (and any other time the American media described a thing as a “witch hunt”) but did not give but the briefest lip service to the misogyny that drove the witch trials and the selection of its victims. Anxiety about attacks from indigenous people were mentioned, but nothing of the political tension of territory and property lines, the disputes between Salem and its many pastors, or the institution of witchcraft as a prosecutable offense in a court of common law by King James. For a museum on the trials it was very light on the details. I found more information available in the gift shop’s surprisingly thorough selection of books. You do have to buy tickets ($21 adults) somewhat in advance for tours that rotate on (I think) 45 minute intervals.

Peabody Essex Museum - The Peabody Essex Museum is huge and hosts art and history exhibits. When I visited they had an exhibit on Qing Dynasty empresses and had just finished reconstructing brick by brick, tile by tile, a real Qing Dynasty ancestral home imported from Huizhou, China, Salem’s sister city. General admission is $20 for adults.

The Hocus Pocus House - The house used for the exterior of Max and Dani’s in the 1993 movie is a popular stop but it is quite a long walk away from the main tourist hub. I’m sure there are bus tours that would take you there, but like the spendthrift I am, I hoofed it. You can’t enter the house as it is a private residence so taking photos from across the street is the best you can get. The benefit of walking are the scenic views (at last! The quaint town I had imagined!) and meeting a neighbor a few doors down. She had fashioned a hedge from seashells and had delightful watchdog whose name escapes me, save that it was compound and started with “Sir.” I caught her outside gardening - or rather she caught me - and had a chat about the house, tourists, and living in Salem.

Witch City Mall - free multi-story parking! Get there early.

The Coven’s Cottage - Tools, ingredients, books, and more with an exclusive focus on Asatru.

HausWitch Home + Healing - prime example of the self-care industry meets new age spiritualism.

Artemisia Botanicals - Every powdered or raw ingredient you could likely hope for. I saw advertisements for their tea reading service but none was offered when I visited.

Hex Old World Witchery - a sister store to the one in New Orleans. It sells tools, spell ingredients, enchanted candles, jewelry, and some very jaunty pointed hats for ladies and gents.

Life Alive Organic Cafe - Organic vegan cafe. It has the Sanderson Sisters painted as vegetables on their window.

Opus - A fusion restaurant. The food was amazing and the service was great. They have live shows in their basement level. A perfect place for cocktails.

Adriatic Restaurant - Mediterranean and Italian fare. Decent, but pricey.

Caramel Pasteries & Macarons - Easily the best macarons in town. They also sell ice cream and a limited selection of coffee and tea.

The Satanic Temple Headquarters - Baphomet had just returned from his extended stay in Arkansas. The connected Salem Art Gallery and library was also open, and there were some rather striking vine and wicker sculpture work to greet you. And as expected, the people were quite friendly and helpful with recommendations for what else to do and see in Salem. The only downside is that it is a bit of a hike from downtown, but a much shorter one than the Hocus Pocus house. Self-guided tour is $15 for adults.

Street vendors - there are many of these out and about close to Halloween. You can buy whole bags (and whole bags only) of apple cider donuts and other goodies. Not something I normally go for but it was enjoyable. Bring cash.

Additional notes

There are loads of people in costume days before Halloween. If you are shyly deliberating on whether or not to pack a costume, you needn’t think on it further. Do it and have fun, my darling.

However, I should warn you that if you are one of those that plans to wave a movie replica wand at traffic while shouting bad Latin, I can assure you that you aren’t the first to attempt this and the drivers will not be patient with you. Better to hustle along.

Salem has a noise ordinance that goes into affect at 10 PM on Halloween night. According to the local waitresses most folks don't begin to trickle into town until 10 AM or so that day.

Essex street is cobbled, please wear comfortable shoes.

Shop around! There are many shops selling largely the same merchandise. By and large you'll see the same prices but if you've got a sharp enough eye you can save yourself a bit of cash.

Reserve your stay, wherever it is, AS SOON AS POSSIBLE. I reserved in January and still had to book a room 20 minutes away, which required a car rental.

Speaking of which, if you're driving in from outside Salem, the lanes merge and disappear frequently and it can be a little stressful. Most of the drive into Salem is single lane through neighborhoods - school bus traffic included.

The temperature in late October is mild but the wind chill coming off the sea makes it feel at least 10°F cooler. And it’s quite windy - wear your hair up. Preferably add a hat lest you show up on someone’s doorstep looking like Sadako, as I did.

#travel #traveling witch #salem #witchblr #halloween #hocus pocus #satanic temple #salem massachusetts #samhain

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ofinkdried · 5 years ago

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INTRO: ADORA

uploading data … ⟳ 𝙲𝙾𝙼𝙿𝙻𝙴𝚃𝙴 ! welcome , ADORA. a long way from she-ra , huh ? hm … a twenty year old personal trainer who looks like FLORENCE PUGH — could be worse. i heard you were at MACLARENS PUB when we un - glitched , & you ( ran home to try and transform into she-ra ]. still the brave & dense type , that’s why [ high pony tails, sore muscles, & a heart of gold ]’s totally your vibe. the memory of SAVING ETHERIA is hazy , but maybe the ( sword of power ) waiting for you at the pawn shop’ll bring clarity. + human first one , cisfemale [ she/her ] , lesbian.

( she ra spoilers below the cut !! )

ah yes, everyone’s favorite dumb blonde gay jock superhero princess, Adora.

CANON: adora is she-ra, princess of power. she was raised in the horde from a young age along with catra, though eventually defected and joined the rebellion when she found the sword of power and realized that the horde was attacking innocent people. she realized she was she-ra, the princess of power, and joined the princess alliance against the horde to stop them from hurting anyone else. fighting for years, the two armies went back and forth before hordak, leader of the horde, built a portal to return to his creator, horde prime. they discovered a weapon that would destroy all magic in etheria, with adora as the key. in order to keep anyone else from using it, she destroyed the sword as the planet was pulled through to where horde prime was located. she lost her ability to turn into she ra as a result of losing the sword, and had to fight to help keep people safe as just plain old adora. with friends trapped and others falling under horde prime’s mind control, the only thing left to do was activate the fail safe. in the end, she managed to overcome with the help of catra, and they all lived happily ever after.

CLOUD: here, adora is just herself. shes always been sporty, always loved working out and self defense classes. she grew up in a without a family still, the orphanage being the closest thing to a family she had. she was on the softball team all through middle and high school, and one of the best in track and field. she was perfectly, naturally normal, something she loved for herself. she knew she wanted to do something with sports or fitness for her future, and loves that she’s become a personal trainer, helping people learn the best way to train themselves. her favorite place is the welcoming atmosphere of maclarens pub, where she can sit and watch sports and eat some of the best food ( in her own opinion ), however she has a soft spot for the lighthouse as well, and finds herself climbing to the top at least once a week. Something about the height makes her comforted, something she can’t quite pin down -- until recently. Now, with her memories ( mostly ) restored, adora knows it reminds her of happy times with catra, bow, and glimmer in high places. even though she has those memories back, some things are still blurry, but she wants to try and remember everything she can. I mean, wouldn’t you want to know everything if you suddenly found out you could turn into an eight foot warrior lady who saved the world ??

CONNECTION IDEAS: friends from high school, people she meets up with at maclarens, people she’s met at the gym she works at or just seen around the lighthouse. clients for work.

#cloud:intro #(( this is shit but ))#(( ill post a plotting call in a bit !! ))

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fitllivinglifestyle · 5 years ago

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Best Hiking in Ireland and Other Unique Irish Adventures

If you want to fully experience one of the most naturally beautiful places in the world then you must go Hiking in Ireland. The rolling green fields, stone fences, savage cliff coastlines and medieval castles make it one of the most awe inspiring locations for a great hike or country walk. It is one of the greenest place I have hiked in the world, right up there with my home area of the Pacific Northwest and Hiking the Banaue Rice Terraces in the Philippines. Then you have the Irish themselves who are some of the friendliest people you will ever come across. Everywhere you go, whether a city or small village, you will find a pub filled with welcoming locals, music, dancing and stories of myths and legends. A perfect place to rest your feet and quench your thirst after a day of hiking the Irish hills and valleys. So where do you hike in Ireland? Well the list is almost endless but to get you started I have created a guide to some of the most scenic hiking spots in Ireland and Northern Ireland. Here you will see some of the best this island has to offer while hitting up a few iconic photographic spots as well.

Best Hiking in Ireland and Other Unique Irish Adventures

1. The Cliffs of Moher

At over 700 feet tall these cliffs are magnificent to view. They are one of the most visited attractions in Ireland and can get busy during peak season. I suggest going early in the morning when they first open. There is a great walk along the cliffs. They do have a small wall barrier but this can be easily hopped over for a full cliff hike experience. Be careful as winds can be very strong when walking too close to the edge. You can literally fill up a whole card of images here. Look below and see the power of mother nature slamming into the walls. Scenes from great movies like The Princess Bride (Cliffs of Insanity) and Harry Potter and the half blood prince have been filmed here. Here is a 360 experience for the Cliffs of Moher Galway is one of the best places to stay as a home base for seeing the Cliffs of Moher. A bustling center with so many pubs to explore when you are not exploring nature. Galway Hotels

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2. Ballybunion Cliff Walk

South of Galway is a little town called Ballybunion. Along the coast is a great walk along some beautiful beaches and picturesque cliffs. This walk has been used by visitors for the last 100 years. You can also explore a pretty castle and some lovely sand dunes. Most people can easily spend a couple hours here exploring.

3. Clogher Strand Beach

A must see stop when driving around the Dingle peninsula is Clogher Strand. There is a car park here and even on the calmest day, this little cove is spectacular to view. The rocky shore and cliffs are battered by wind and waves up to 26 feet high. There is a wonderful hike from this cove along the countryside and cliffs to the Pier at Wine Strand. This is some of the best hiking in Ireland. This route takes about 3 hours, but you can make your way back via a road if you do not want as long of a walk. Many movie fans may recognize this area as the Irish countryside that Tom Cruise's character was from in "Far and Away."

Dingle is an iconic Irish village worth a stop itself. It has one of the biggest food festivals and also is home to one of the most famous Dolphin's by the name of Fungie. Locals say this same dolphin has made this it's home for the last 32 years. Dingle Hotels

4. Slea Head and Dunmore Head

Easily accessible from Dingle, this is the most western point in Ireland. You can park at Coumeenoole Beach and head up to see Coumeenoole Ogham Stone. This particular Ogham stone is believed to be a place of worship for someone named Erc to the goddess Duibhne(Dovinnias). It is a bit of a hike up to the stone through fields of sheep and over a small fence, but the views from there are one of a kind. You have a heavenly view of the Blasket Islands to the west and nothing else until North America behind them. To the east you can view Slea Head beach and endless miles of green countryside. Put this one on your hiking in Ireland list.

5. Gap of Dunloe

The Gap of Dunloe is a scenic narrow mountain pass just outside of the popular town of Killarney, Ireland. A popular way to ride through the pass is with a jaunting car or pony guided by locals who live around the gap. You can also find some of the best hiking trails in Ireland here. Many also choose to bike through the area. There are even rock climbing routes in the area for those looking for a more extreme adventure. The Dunloe gap is about 7 miles long and consists of 11 lakes connected by the river Loe and an old arch bridge called the "Wishing Bridge." The gap was also a filming area for the movie "The Crying Game." Killarney is your best bet for a place to stay in this area and is a wonderful town full of pubs, delicious food, live music and amenities. There is also the Killarney National Park to explore and definitely worth a visit when in Killarney. One of the largest parks in Ireland. Killarney Hotels

6. Bog of Frogs Loop

Dublin is an epicenter in Ireland. Many people just stay in Dublin for pubs, music and food but there is adventure just outside the city along with some great Ireland hiking. Within the town of Howth is a fairytale hike through enchanted forests and up to an amazing lookout. This whole area known as Howth Head was immortalized in James Joyce's book Ulysses. One of my favorite Howth hikes is Bog of Frogs that winds through an enchanted forest of gnarly trees which locals say is full of fairies. Check out Shane's Howth Hikes for guided Ireland hiking tours of this area. Need a spot for lunch? Don't miss the delicious seafood at Octopussy's Seafood Tapas Restaurant on the Howth waterfront. Coming from the Pacific Northwest, I know seafood and this is good seafood. Need place to say in Dublin? Dublin Hotels

7. Dalkey Island

In the town of Dalkey just outside of Dublin you can kayak over to Dalkey Island with Kayaking Dublin. This drops you right into Lord of the Rings-like terrain. The kayak trip over is full of encounters with seals and beautiful coastline. Then you touch down on the island which is covered with rock and a spongy Irish moss. I chose to go barefoot and literally felt like a hobbit exploring the island. If overnight stays were allowed I may not have left. The island was used by the Vikings as a holding area for slaves they had captured and a base for attacks and defense. This uninhabited island has been used for various purposes for 6000 years. It is now home to goats, seals, rabbits and legends. Want lunch in Dalkey? Look no further than The Dalkey Duck Looking for more adventure? Zip It Forest Adventures may be what you need. Packed with fun and challenging routes for beginners to advanced. The Red Circuit is an upper body killer!

8. Hellfire Club (Mount Pelier Hill)

One of the most haunted buildings in Ireland wrapped up in witchcraft and satanic rituals. The Hellfire Club had multiple meeting locations around Ireland and some of the most influential and richest men in the country would partake in these gatherings. This old hunting lodge built by William Connolly is on top of Mount Pelier Hill. Locals share stories of debauchery, sacrifices and even the devil himself at this lodge. The hike up to the lodge is gorgeous with views of Dublin to the North and the Wicklow mountains to the South. The lodge itself sits on an old burial site in which adds to the haunted tales and stories of satanic rituals. You can explore the building and feel the eerie presence of those who may have died at this site. Watch your step as the building can be damp and dark. There is a great company Hilltop Treks that does Ireland Hiking tours and can take you up to this spot and other hiking in Ireland Watch a story told by Terry from Hilltop Treks about Hellfire Club here. Looking for something extra to do in this area. How about horseback riding in Dublin overlooking the Wicklow Hills with Killegar Stables? They are a great outfit for beginners to experts and one of Ireland's longest established riding schools. Take in the fresh Irish air as you trot through the countryside. Prefer golfing to hiking? Check out this resort just outside of Dublin with golfing at your fingertips? Check out Portmarnock Hotel and Golf Links

9. Carrick-a-Rede Rope Bridge

Situated in Northern Ireland along the coast is a rope bridge not for the feint of heart. The bridge is 65 feet long and 100 feet above the rocks below. It connects Carrickarede island with the mainland. It is a nice scenic walk down to the bridge, there is a fee to cross it. On the other side you can explore the old fishing dock and take the stairs to the top of the island. Upon returning across the bridge to your left you can follow the trail to a nice lookout spot for a great photographic view of the bridge and island. This will loop you back to the parking area. Not some of the best hiking in Ireland, but definitely a unique and beautiful area. Plan to stay in Belfast? Belfast is a prime city to situate yourself when exploring Northern Ireland. You can visit Carrick-a-Rede Rope Bridge, Giant's Causeway, Dunluce Castle and The Dark Hedges all from Belfast. Belfast Hotels

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10. Giant's Causeway

One of Northern Ireland's most visited natural wonders. An area consisting of about 40,000 interlocking basalt columns. This is the by-product of an ancient volcanic eruption and is now a UNESCO site. Legend denotes the columns are the remains of a route built by giants. To get to the columns you must park above near the Visitors Center. Remember entrance to the Giant's Causeway is free but use of any of the facilities like the car park requires payment. In slow season you may be able to stop for a drink or snack at the pub and use their parking area or find parking along the road or a wall near the visitors center. It is a bit of a hike down along the coast to get to the columns, but a fairly level road to walk on. Once there, you can spends hours climbing and exploring the area. One the weirdest landscapes next to Cappadocia, Turkey.

Are you a Game of Thrones fan? When you are on your way to the Giant's Causeway or any other of the Northern Ireland Coastal locations, you can stop by the Dark Hedges. Used in the popular TV series Game of Thrones. The massive and unique trees curve over the road and give an eerie and medieval feel to them. Here is another article about Game of Thrones in Dubrovnik.

11. Dunluce Castle and Cliffs

The medieval Dunluce Castle sits right on the edge of the coastline of Northern Ireland. Something right out of Game of Thrones or Lord of the Rings. On all sides of the castle are steep drops which made it an ideal fortification for early Christians and Vikings. There is a cool little bridge connecting to the castle plus a waterway escape to the ocean from under the castle. You can spend a good hour exploring the area and walking through the castle. Plus the area is beautiful for a cycle or a good ole Irish walk along the coast. Read about another Historic Trail here.

12. Glenveagh National Park

Glenveagh National Park is an adventurers paradise. In the county of Donegal in Northwest Ireland lies an oasis of trails, cycling, fishing, vast landscapes and a picturesque castle. In reality this area provides some of the most remote and best hiking in Ireland. Entry to the area is free, but services will be extra. At almost 40,000 acres, this park provides countless hours of exploring. It consists of most of Derryveagh Mountians, the Poisoned Glen and part of Errigal Mountain. You can rent a bike with www.grassroutes.ie to discover more of the area. Fishing can be done on Lough Veagh from July 15th - September 30th. Contact www.donegalanglingholidays.com to arrange. Derry, also know as Londonderry is just over the border in Northern Ireland, but provides a good home base for exploring County Donegal. It is a sight to explore by itself as well. It is a walled city with various 17th century architecture to see. LondonDerry Hotels

Another option for accommodations is Ireland 's Blue Book. They provide access to Irish Country House Hotels, Manor Houses and Castles for a more unique experience.

13. Slieve League Cliffs

Just over 2 hours from Derry, these Irish cliffs are said to be one of the best cliffs is Ireland. Larger and just as spectacular as the Cliffs of Moher. I am talking almost 3 times higher. You get wonderful views of Sligo Mountains and Donegal Bay from the top of the cliffs where the ocean devours the rock below. If you are feeling like a little extra adventure, head onto One Man's Pass which connects around to Pilgrim's Path. This is one of Ireland's best hiking trails in Ireland and goes along one of Ireland's most impressive coastlines. The best part is this area is less explored than many other parts of Ireland, at least for now. Thanks for reading. Another detailed article about an Ultimate Road Trip from Belfast to Derry, Northern Ireland is here. Let me know if you think any new hiking in Ireland adventures should be added. Always looking for a new adventure to try. Here is some of the Best Hikes Near Seattle, my hometown. On Pinterest? Use this Pin below to share!

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hyperionswrath--archived · 4 years ago

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@onepartbrave

Huh. You really did learn something new every day—who knew? Squall blinked at the newfound information freely given. Considerately given? Crownsguard were different to the Glaives but held similar roles—just to different people? The name was a given, he supposed, Kingsglaives. A random thought of being sworn to one person was awkward but wasn’t he in the same position as SeeD? A grimace began down turning his lips and folding his brow as further unanswered questions joined the pile already growing. As often as he did it, he hated overthinking. Too much noise drove him insane as it was, but inside his cranium was far worse.

Still… he couldn’t deny the perks. Summoning a weapon of choice at a whim? Yeah, he could get behind that. Though he liked the reassuring weight of a gunblade at his side, they were far too notable and bulky to sneak anywhere. ‘Pretty cool’ indeed… Knowing he didn’t need to voice the sentiment for it to be understood, he bypassed a verbal answer and completely skipped Seifer’s playful taunting concerning Squall’s unintentional staring. Imagine addressing the blond’s ridiculous statements about his physique? Squall’d never hear the end of it. Plus, with all the admiring stares from all walks of gender, he needn’t one more from him.

Although, he mused Seifer deserved a little effort on his behalf to keep a conversation and weaponry was something Squall could blabber on about for ages. “At my hotel,” he explained simply, noting more wouldn’t kill him. “…Still in top condition all these years later. Just as quick too.”

Clearing his throat lightly, his mind wandered to Hyperion and its current status. Assuming the imposing blade to be within the disappearing roster Seifer had, he couldn’t help but desire a gander. Weapons were something he could do. They didn’t require sentiment, emotional outbursts or persistent company. When something went wrong or broke, his intimate knowledge on the model meant it was fixed in a matter of hours so long as he had the pieces. If he pissed off a person, it’d sometimes taken days to remedy it. Days. There were exceptions to every cause, of course, and those were the companions he’d gotten much better at reading and contending with. But in general… hand him sharp objects used for maiming over interpersonal relationships any day.

Strolling along in silence, clearly having given up already on the chatting part, he matched Seifer’s stride and kept up with ease. Inquisitive eyes darted this way and that as he navigated unfamiliar streets with the blond as his guide. Architecture was unlike any he’d seen before, inspiring both a modern and regal image simultaneously. Not as in your face with technology as Esthar yet not as old timey and ‘we refuse to accept change’ as Deling City. A refreshing alteration. Hell, even the air felt cleaner… until Seifer decided to pollute both it and his system with a cigarette.

Keeping that remark to himself, Squall nodded concurringly and bypassed the blond to enter the building. A fleeting inspection of the sigh plastered to the door—‘The Last Resort’? How fitting—he pushed inside and was greeted with unexpected warmth. Blinking the abrupt dryness from his eyes, he gave them an irritable rub with the back of one sleeve. Vision clearer, he performed a once-over check of the establishment, noting any escape routes other than the obvious entrance. Not that he’d remember later if his plan to get irresponsibly wasted went through without a hitch.

Falling back on his anointed assignment, he sought out a cosy, cushioned booth in the corner that had a large curve of seat. Good, should he fall over at any point, he’d fall on something soft. He just needed to stay central. Seifer could take one side and risk toppling to the floor, he was hard-headed enough to not succumb to an injury. Shimmying his way onto the designated seat, he butt-shuffled around with slight awkwardness, grunting in mild pain when his knee collided with an unfortunate low beam in the middle.

Shrugging off the spark of irritation, he snagged one of the menus showcased on the tabletop. The front page displayed a cartoony version of the pub’s exterior, well drawn and admirable work, and recited the basic information of address and contact information. Storing the titbits away for a later date (if it was decent food and a good atmosphere, he might venture there again during his mandatory vacation), he opened the first of two pages inside. A list of delectable looking starters glared back at him and he scowled faintly when his stomach rumbled in pre-emptive appreciation. His own fault, he hadn’t eaten anything substantial since breakfast.

Deciding then he was going to get some food alongside his future binge, impatient grey-blue eyes peered toward the entranceway, praying silently Seifer hurried his ass along because Squall was hungry and he didn’t want to give up the perfect perch he’d gained.

Staying behind as Squall entered the pub, Seifer let himself sink against the stonewall behind him, feeling the rough quality of the bricks press through his shirt. His gaze unfocused, he made a mental note to pull himself together. When he had come here, to the Crown City, it had been to escape his past and not look back anymore. People here had their own problems and he was allowed to banish the shadows of his inglorious attempts at playing the hero in favor of doing the one thing he knew how to do right - fighting. If nothing else. And yet here he was, running into his former rival like it was just another day at Garden, after ten fucking years of successfully pushing down his guilt, far enough he could pretend all of this didn't happen. When he had firmly believed he would never see him again. Not just that but he had been stupid enough to tag along, to fall right back into his old behavioral patterns and even end up protecting the guy he once.... tried to kill. Flip the switch and it's like nothing has changed at all... Throwing himself in front of Squall to protect him the night before stemmed from two evils. One being his recklessness which had only worsened over the years when it came to getting wounded because he simply did not care. The other was deep, shame-filled guilt.

Dragging one last time on his cigarette, he huffed the smoke out with bitterness underlying the amused tone as he realized he acted like Squall in his prime with all this brooding. Eyes closing so he could regain composure, he took a deep breath, then pushed off the wall and made for the entrance. One hand pushing the door open, the tall blond stepped inside the warmth that was just a tinge too much for the still lingering warmth outside but would be most pleasant once the nightly cold set in. Emerald gaze brushed over the room, much quicker than Squall's had since he knew the place, but still following old patterns to survey the place and locate possible threats or anything conspicuous which was, given the fact they had been practically child soldiers, simply branded into his being. Soon his eyes flicked over where the brunet had made himself comfortable, another small twinge of his six-bedamned guilt tightening his chest for the briefest moment as he saw how deeply focused the other seemed to be on the menu. It reminded him acutely of simpler days, when he had spotted the man sitting around with his nose in a Weapons Monthly magazine. Shaking his head briefly to end this futile train of thoughts that continuously tried to pull him in, he made for the bar counter and knocked on it, smiling his most charming smile at the woman manning it. "Hi, could you bring us the usual? Also two shots of your best Leiden whiskey, we've got something to celebrate." Leaning back as the woman busied herself with a smile, Seifer slid one hand into his coat still draped over his shoulder and procured his phone, unlocking it with a slide and checking his messages.

Kerr had sent him about fifty messages, most of which consisted of funny images meant to cheer him up since he'd heard about his suspension. A fond smile tugged at his lips as he quickly filed through them, taking a moment to reply so the guy wouldn't worry himself sick. After pocketing his phone again, he found the two shots standing on the counter already, taking them with him as he made for the corner Squall was sitting in. Placing one of the small glasses filled with golden liquid in front of him, he quirked a brow at the irritated look on the brunet's face before throwing his uniform coat unceremoniously on the bench where it would stay until way later tonight. Movement and all had the sleeves of his shirt slide up a bit, exposing part of the tattoo on his left biceps - the likeness of the blood-red cross he had stitched on his old trenchcoat, now displayed in black ink with small red embellishments. If one was to pay closer attention to his skin due to this, they would likely also notice the fine webs of scars riddling the tall blond’s skin, marring arms and even parts of his neck, definite signs of not applying healing properly - or in time. Lifting the glass in Squall's direction now, still standing, he shot him a lopsided smile. "Well then, to unexpected run-ins that get me suspended," he toasted before downing the shot in one go, grimacing slightly at the strong burn in his throat.

"So, what's your poison, Leonhart?", he then asked, nodding briefly to the bar to signal he'd get the order. "Also don't bother with that," finger now pointing at the menu, "I ordered us a plate with their specialties." On the occasions when he came here with fellow Glaives they'd to the same, just snack away all evening while getting drunk. It was more convenient than plastering the entire table with gazillion dishes. Once the brunet would let him know what he wanted to drink, Seifer would turn and go back to the counter to place their order.

#onepartbrave #more angsty angst #the boy has issues #also hangry squall is adorable :3 #rp #long post

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buttsonthebeach · 6 years ago

Note

prompt: lucius and ashara form a loving healthy polyamorous relationship w/ laurence breadman. ellana and solas find out. GO

SO WHO IS READY FOR THIS

It’s only been 84 years since you sent this prompt but I wanted to finish Reckoning first! (Speaking of which, this has spoilers for Reckoning.)

Tagging @empresstress13 per your interest in Breadman!

My Ko-Fi || My Commissions

Pairing: Ashara Lavellan x Lucius Talvas x Laurence Marchand (OC x OC x OC)

Rating: EXPLICIT! The smut is short but it’s there, and it is a m x m x f threesome. You are warned.

*********

They met Laurence at the party where they themselves reconnected. His cakes were the dessert, and he had run late perfecting them all, so he was still there when they arrived. He was carefully arranging each one on a tiered display, his eyes narrow with focus. He was a big man - broad through the shoulders and soft in the belly - and he very nearly intimidated both of them when they first saw him. Then he saw them sidling up to the table, and his face broadened into a wide grin.

“Ah, pardon my intrusion. I am Laurence Marchand, the baker of these fine goods. I am simply making sure that everything is exactly as it should be. May I tempt you with something, monsieur…?”

“Talvas,” Lucius said.

“Well met, Monsieur Talvas. And this beautiful lady is…?”

“Ashara Lavellan,” she said. She flushed to hear herself called beautiful. Months of war had not left her much time to think of such things.

“Lavellan - I believe your esteemed mother is the reason I am here, mademoiselle. Unless of course it is madame?” From another man the comment might have been leering, but from Laurence it just seemed curious. Warm.

“It’s mademoiselle,” Ashara said, even as her hand drifted to Lucius’s. They’d kissed on the balcony and it had been a kiss full of meaning after two years apart, but they hadn’t tested the depth of that meaning yet. She wanted to leave the party and twine herself around him and never let go.

“Well, you must thank your mother for me again. And if you like the cakes and you want some more, you must stop by my new bakery. We open next week. I think if I have such a handsome man and such a lovely woman present, I’ll be sure to draw customers.”

Again, it was a comment that might have put Ashara back on her heels if it had come from someone else. But from Laurence it just seemed - sweet. She glanced at Lucius and saw that he had that pleased, embarrassed look he always got when someone praised him, and she wanted to kiss him at once, right there, her Lucius and his sweetness. She was pleased that someone else saw what she saw, even if it was a stranger.

“We’ll stop by,” she said, because the night was full of promise, and she was alive, and she was happy, and so was Lucius, and so was Laurence.

Laurence’s new bakery was quite close to the central market square, a prime location that Ashara did not doubt Mamae had helped him secure. Despite his claim that he would need a handsome man and a lovely lady to help draw in business, there was already a modest crowd. There was a selection of fresh rolls and baguettes, and some sweeter additions more similar to what he’d served at the party. He recognized them at once as they walked in, hand in hand.

“Monsieur Talvas! Mademoiselle Lavellan! I am pleased to see you. Come, sit. You must try this coffee I have just brewed and give me your honest opinion. I ground the beans myself this morning. I fear that I ground them too fine and that some made it through the press and into the coffee itself.”

Ashara and Lucius sat, held hands on top of the table, because they did that now, three weeks into this new beginning. This new version of themselves that was an us. Lucius rubbed his thumb across the back of her hand and smiled whenever she glanced his way. The coffee was good, but Laurence was right - he’d ground it too fine, and there was a siltiness to the brew, like river water. He tsked and took the small porcelain cups back.

“I shall try again, if you have the time. And you must try this chocolate croissant with the next batch.”

“We have time,” Lucius said. It was true. They had nowhere else they needed to be. There was a looseness in Ashara’s spine she had not felt in months, and it was the looseness of time.

The crowd had thinned by the time the next batch was ready, and Laurence sat with them as they enjoyed it. This one was perfect. Rich and hot and chocolatey, just like the croissant.

“You will have to tell your mother to come here,” Lucius said. “She would love this.”

“It was her suggestion, in fact,” Laurence said. “She is a very good woman, your mother.”

“She is,” Ashara said, full of pride.

“And she raised a good woman,” Lucius said. He was more bold now than before, at least with such expressions of affection. He seemed to sense how much she needed them after everything that happened.

Laurence looked between them, warmth in his hazel eyes. “We should go out, the three of us. One cannot help but to want to bask in such happiness. And I am still new in this city. What do you say?”

“Of course,” Ashara said, because she was happy, and life was full of promise and sweetness (and she wanted more chocolate croissants).

It was after the third time they went out with Laurence - not counting the times they stopped by his bakery, which was fast becoming a favorite among many residents of Enasan - that they first began to realize that he was interested in them. In both of them.

They’d gone out to a pub this time, and they’d drunk expensive Fereldan whiskey, which Laurence promptly declared inferior to Orlesian brandy, but it still made him giddy enough to drape one arm around each of them at different points in the night. To get a high red color on his ruddy face when Ashara leaned in and planted a kiss firmly on Lucius’s neck. They were all a little drunk.

“You are both so lovely,” Laurence had murmured then. Their legs were close to his under the table. “I cannot help but wonder if -”

“If?” Lucius asked.

Laurence looked away suddenly, waved his hand. “It is nothing.”

But Ashara knew it was something. She knew it because she’d started to feel it too, when they were with Laurence. They fit with him in a way they did not fit with other friends, like Haleir. So she decided to be bold when she and Lucius went home, still tipsy. It was a new life. A time to take chances.

“Do you think Laurence intended to ask us to bed tonight?” she asked when they were home. Lucius was already down to his smalls, getting ready to collapse into bed. He paused.

“You caught that as well?” he asked, turning to her. “I thought - well, I assumed it was just the whiskey addling my brain. But it did cross my mind that he might mean that.”

Ashara pictured it in flashes. Her own brain was still addled with whiskey but they were there. They had not known Laurence for long but he was so warm, so confident, so at ease - so different from herself and from Lucius, with their fears and anxieties and constantly moving minds. And he was handsome, and wouldn’t it be an indulgence to have both of them on her, their lips, their hands, their legs -

“And what did you think?” Ashara asked, mouth dry. “Or - what would you think, if he asked some other time, and I said yes?”

Lucius rubbed the back of his neck, cast his eyes down. There was a tenting beginning in his smalls, a rising, a filling.

“Well - I did notice other boys sometimes. In the Circle. But you know me. I was never crazy after sex. I noticed the girls too. But after those first couple of times, realizing I didn’t enjoy it if it didn’t mean anything - and with Tevinter being less open about men loving other men - I never pursued it. But he is very handsome, and I do -”

Ashara was already in front of him, pushing back on his shoulders so he sat on the bed, kneeling between his legs, taking him in her hand. He gasped, grew to full hardness in her grasp.

“But you might like it?” she asked. “You might like him? If he did this to you instead of me?”

Lucius swore in Tevene. She pumped him, probably a little too quick, a little too rough, but she could feel him pulsing.

“Or would you want to touch him?” she asked. “Do you think he would feel good in your hand?”

Lucius only groaned, gripped the sheets tighter, flexed his hips up and into her touch. She tugged, tugged, kept everything quick and tight, and he came, loud and moaning with every burst of it, his spend hot on her hand. She licked him clean at the very end and he pulled her up, held her close.

“I love you,” he said. “I love you so. I would never want anything to change that.”

“I agree,” she said.

He paused. Then: “But - I wouldn’t mind seeing where it goes. With Laurence. I’m not ready for anything drastic yet. I want to know him better, first.”

“Of course. And I love you, vhenan. So very much.”

Lucius smiled, and he kissed her, and they went to bed.

Laurence had been serious, it turned out. He made the delicate overture again, a couple of weeks later, sober this time, while they were all relaxing in one of the parks after taking in a show at the theatre.

“I truly enjoy the time I spend with both of you. I do wonder if - you consider our time together as special as I do,” he said.

For all his bravado and confidence, there was some nervous in him in that moment. Ashara reached out and touched his knee.

“I - I think we do.” She glanced to Lucius, caught his quick nod. “Both of us. I think - I think we’d like to continue seeing each other. To get to know each other even better, maybe. If you would like that.”

Laurence beamed, bright as the coffee press he polished every morning in his bakery.

“Good,” he said.

Something in the air shifted for the rest of the afternoon. The teasing was more romantic. Hands brushed more often than they should have. Ashara kept studying Lucius, anxious for his reactions, and saw that he felt the same giddiness they did. As they prepared to part ways that evening, Laurence took both of their hands and kissed the back of them. He did not do it with a flourish or a simpering air like the Orlesian courtiers Ashara had known. Instead he did it with genuine tenderness. Genuine eagerness.

“I must admit, coming to a new city and managing to find myself falling in love with a couple instead of one person may be the most Orlesian thing I have ever done,” he said. “But for once, I think I am happy to live up to the image everyone has of my country.”

Falling in love.

Ashara and Lucius turned those words over that night, in bed. Falling in love. They made love, and they both imagined him there with them, both came panting and shivering with the force of their pleasure.

This was not what Ashara had imagined at all a year ago, fresh from the horror of Clermont. It was not something she had ever really imagined. It was a little overwhelming at times. She had a million questions about how it would work, what it would mean, what people would think (though she cared about that least of all). But if she had learned one thing in her experiences, it was that she had to take happiness wherever she could find it. And she was happy when Laurence and Lucius were smiling, holding hands with one another. She was happy when she and Lucius woke warm and sleepy and burrowed into their covers to keep sleeping just a little longer. She was happy working at the university.

She was happy, and she wasn’t going to let that feeling go for anything.

They waited until Lucius felt comfortable before they went any further than kissing, cuddling, wandering hands. It was worth the waiting. Ashara would never forget the sight of the two of them, naked, marveling at each other’s bodies, so similar and so different. She would never forget the way Lucius asked if Laurence would show him what pleased him, the way Laurence guided Lucius’s hand to his cock (shorter, thicker than Lucius’s own, Ashara wanted to touch it too) and showed him the rhythm he liked best. She would never forget curling up behind Lucius, pressing him between Laurence’s body and her own. She would never forget when Laurence oiled his hand and wrapped it around his cock and around Lucius’s and stroked them both together, how both of them gasped and groaned, how their kisses got more and more sloppy. She would not forget the sound of Laurence’s hand working them both faster and faster, the slick tap tap of it, the way they writhed against each other. She kissed and kissed Lucius’s shoulder, ran her hand along Laurence’s face, told Laurence to keep going, said she wanted to see them come like this.

She would never forget the way they both shuddered and groaned and rutted into each other as they came, the glorious mess they made of each other. The way they rested their foreheads against each other and just studied one another afterwards.

“Je t’aime,” Laurence said, soft, the words only for Lucius this time. They did not spark any jealousy in Ashara, though. Only joy.

“I love you,” Lucius said.

Ashara grinned. She cuddled them close. Her two men.

“I do think, though,” Laurence said. “That we are being very rude right now. Our poor beautiful Ashara has been so patient while we learn each other’s bodies. Won’t you show me what she likes best, amour?”

Lucius smiled, rolled over, kissed Ashara hard on the mouth. He sat back against the headboard and held Ashara between her legs and he told Laurence how to use his mouth to drive her wild, how to lick slow and careful all around her aching clit until she couldn’t take it any longer, until she begged him to suck on it. How to fuck her roughly with his fingers while he sucked her there, until she came, and she did come, she came so hard she keened and left marks all over Laurence’s shoulders, so that his square jaw was covered in her slick when he sat up.

“Perfect,” Laurence said, grinning. “You are both perfect.”

“So are you,” Lucius said. They were both right.

***

It was not always easy, for all that it was perfect. There were language barriers - Laurence struggling to communicate in Trade all the time, wishing bitterly that one of them spoke Orlesian, finding Lucius’s Tevene accent confusing. Laurence’s (admittedly casual) Andrastianism occasionally giving him pause, too. Lucius sometimes wanted time just to himself, and that could be difficult for Ashara and Laurence alike. There was the matter of where to spend each night, how to balance the needs of their various jobs.

And, finally, there was the matter of what to tell family.

Ashara’s parents had gone to live with Clan Lavellan, and they had not been back since. They knew she and Lucius were together, of course, and she had mentioned Laurence several times. Mamae was the one who brought him to Enasan, after all. She was pleased to hear updates on his business, and to hear that he had become part of Ashara’s life. But she hesitated to tell them the true extent of things. Neither of them were terribly judgmental people, of course - but still. Ashara did not know any other lovers quite like her and her men.

But they were going to visit them for a midsummer festival, and so soon there would be nothing to do but to tell them.

Ashara stalled and stalled - what if Papae was just as displeased with Laurence as he had been with Lucius at first? What if the more traditional elders of Clan Lavellan disapproved? - but finally her mother asked if Lucius was coming with her one night while they visited in the Fade.

“Lucius is coming. And Laurence too.”

“Oh? I am surprised he can take time away from the bakery.”

“Well, it’s important for him to come.”

Mamae arched one eyebrow. “Why?”

“Because we’re lovers,” she said. “The three of us. We’re in love.”

Mamae’s other eyebrow went up to join the first. She studied Ashara for a moment. Then she burst into laughter.

“Oh, da’vhenan. You went out and got yourself a Tevene first, and then you got yourself an Orlesian, too? What’s next? A qunari?”

Ashara’s anger was flame-hot.

“This is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you. Who cares if they’re both human, or where they’re from - they’re good men and I love them! Laurence is so good at living in the moment, at reassuring Lucius and I, and - Lucius has always been there for me - and we’re very happy, and if you can’t accept that, then -”

“Ashara, Ashara. Atisha. Listen to me. I don’t care at all that they are human. Your father and I both remarked recently that you seem so happy now. I’m just laughing because I can’t wait to see the look on his face when I tell him.”

“He’d better not be mad. Or treat Laurence the way he treated Lucius.”

“Don’t worry. I can’t promise he won’t grill Laurence at least a little. But he’s taken up smoking elfroot now when he gets stressed, you know. I’ll just make sure he has plenty.” Mamae cupped Ashara’s cheek with her right hand. “And I will make sure there is enough room in your aravel for all three of you. I am so happy, da’vhenan. All I want is for you to be happy, too.”

And they were happy.

No one in Clan Lavellan raised an eyebrow at the three of them. Papae narrowed his eyes at Laurence now and then, asked probing questions about his family and his beliefs about alienages and his feelings about the Chantry and about mages. He smoked some elfroot. And then one evening when he was alone with Ashara by a dying campfire he smiled his gentle, quiet smile and said.

“I am happy for you, da’vhenan. And I think you make both of them very happy, too. Hold on to that as long as you can.”

Ashara smiled the same smile back.

“I will.”

And she did.

#beach writes #beach does commissions #ashara lavellan #lucius talvas #laurence marchand #lucius x ashara x laurence #reckoning #IT IS DONE

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zrtranscripts · 5 years ago

Text

Season 8, Mission 21: I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For

Hanged Man

SAM YAO: Five, Jody, you've reached the town. We don't know who was working with Jones, or who has the Edda, or who drew all those super creepy pictures of people they wanted to kill, or if they're all the same person. It's dark, but try and stay out of sight. I've got some cams on the island, but yeah, [sighs] a lot of them don't seem to work well in the dark, so I might not see anyone following you. Have you got the map?

[paper rustles]

JODY MARSH: This is from Jones' papers, right? It marks out a route in symbols and says "Follow in the footsteps of the father of the slain," which isn't at all sinister.

SAM YAO: Yeah. Amelia and her people have been going through everything we found in Jones' stash. They've correlated what they've got with Ellie's notes, and the only thing they're sure comes directly from the Edda is that map.

AMELIA SPENS: Which is why you and Five are going to follow the route for me.

SAM YAO: Amelia! Sam, why didn't you say she was with you?

AMELIA SPENS: I'm not. I'm in my stateroom aboard the Undaunted. Since Team Janine has proven a complete liability, I'm overseeing this mission.

JODY MARSH: Hey, Janine's not well. Paula says she's permanently lost vision in one eye. And we still managed to make a successful alliance with Dearg labs, and we discovered that the red fungus comes from Mor Island like the Edda.

AMELIA SPENS: You also discovered several caves bursting with red fungus, which might have been useful to know about earlier. I've sent marines to scour them with flame throwers. All traces of silver mud will be delivered to Dearg for analysis.

SAM YAO: The laird is doing a good impression of an irritated landowner rather than a sinister skincoat. He complained to Janine about damage to a historic sight.

AMELIA SPENS: And the UK is losing more land to the red fungus. Everything we've learned about the Edda suggests that it contains an account of a way to stop it. That's why my marines are searching house to house for the Edda, but so far, they've turned up nothing. All we have is that map. Jones scrawled something on it about the source of the red fungus, and he wrote "skincoats" next to it.

SAM YAO: Right. So following this map might help us understand what's in the Edda. Or guess at it, anyway.

AMELIA SPENS: It's a faint hope that ancient history might save us, but we must follow every lead. Chop chop! Run!

SAM YAO: Okay, you're at the first location marked on Jones' map. It's the street in town we, um, destroyed.

JODY MARSH: The houses are burned-out shells.

AMELIA SPENS: Honestly, I send one envoy out as Prime Minister and you set fire to a town! It's just as well no one has the vote.

[paper rustles]

SAM YAO: The route runs between the uh, the squiggle we think is the church and the um, blob we're pretty sure is the pub.

[paper rustles]

AMELIA SPENS: Isn't the smiley face the pub?

[paper rustles]

JODY MARSH: That's a Celtic symbol. It represents the graveyard.

AMELIA SPENS: [sighs] Are you sure this map is to scale?

JODY MARSH: It was drawn by an unstable murderer and is based on a book that's a thousand years old. Of course it's not to scale! I've done the best I could, but -

[cough]

SAM YAO: Someone's coming.

AMELIA SPENS: Probably a displaced islander coming to recover the remains of their treasured possessions from the ruins of their family home.

JODY MARSH: Aw, shut up.

SAM YAO: Right, time for you to get out of there. The next mark on the map is up that hill to the north. Run!

JODY MARSH: We got away from that person, Sam. Did they see us?

SAM YAO: Don't think so. It's Hamish McDougall, the grocer. Amelia was right about recovering possessions. He came out of a burned-out house with a charred box labeled "king of the rocks - costumes."

AMELIA SPENS: This is the same king of the rocks ceremony that Jones kept raving about? The one in the rhyme Chief Macallan told us? Moons and pools and stones and fruit? Isn't it a bit of a coincidence that he should pop up on the map's exact route?

SAM YAO: Nah. No, not really. The full moon isn't far off, so everyone's preparing for the ceremony.

JODY MARSH: Besides, the king of the rocks parade doesn't go anywhere near the route on Jones' map.

AMELIA SPENS: All right, then. The next location's marked by a crown?

SAM YAO: That's the laird's manor.

AMELIA SPENS: Ah, yes. The man who not only shot Jones, but had a secret tunnel filled with red fungus in his back garden.

SAM YAO: Yeah, just have a quick look and then get out as fast as you can. It's at the top of the hill. Run!

JODY MARSH: Five and I have scaled the back wall. We're in the laird's garden. It feels a bit cheeky, being here on the sly. He's always been dead nice to us.

SAM YAO: I know, but well, the truth is we have to suspect everyone, don't we?

JODY MARSH: So what are we looking for, exactly?

SAM YAO: Anything that looks like it might be connected to the red fungus.

AMELIA SPENS: Other than the tunnel full of red fungus beneath the place, you mean? You could sneak through a window and see if the laird has the Edda. He's been... resistant to the idea of my marines searching his home.

JODY MARSH: We can't just break in!

SAM YAO: Jody, shhh! Keep your voice down!

[door opens]

LAIRD REID: Who's there? If that's another lackey from that blasted Prime Minister – [cocks gun]

JODY MARSH: [whispers] It's the laird! He's got a shotgun!

LAIRD REID: Who is that? Oh, Five, Jody! What on earth are you doing?

JODY MARSH: Um - !

AMELIA SPENS: Oh, for goodness sake, lie!

JODY MARSH: Actually, we're following the route of this map. It's from Jones' notes on the Edda.

LAIRD REID: Interesting. May I have a look?

AMELIA SPENS: I despair.

[paper rustles]

JODY MARSH: See? Your manor's marked with a crown.

LAIRD REID: Hmm. I think you might have made a mistake. Why don't you and Five come with me, and I'll offer an alternative theory.

SAM YAO: Uh... I don't think that's a good idea.

LAIRD REID: Come along. It's not far.

SAM YAO: Five, don't – [sighs] Okay. Do follow him, but be careful, guys. There's lots of reasons not to trust him.

LAIRD REID: We'll have a good view from up here. Do you have a spare headset?

JODY MARSH: Yeah. Here you go.

LAIRD REID: Sam, hello.

SAM YAO: Hi.

AMELIA SPENS: Laird Reid.

LAIRD REID: Oh! And Prime Minister. A delight, as always.

AMELIA SPENS: I should very much like to know why you've kidnapped my people in the middle of a crucial mission.

LAIRD REID: [laughs] I'd hardly call it kidnapping. I wanted to show them something. Look, up on that hill there.

JODY MARSH: It's an ancient stone circle. I've been up there. There's a carving of the sun in the middle.

LAIRD REID: Aye. During the king of the rocks, there's a parade over it waving yellow streamers. Does the shape of it remind you of anything?

SAM YAO: Uh, well, stone circles sort of, um... It looks like a crown?

JODY MARSH: Oh, you're right! Wait. Have we been reading the map upside down?

AMELIA SPENS: So this exercise has been a complete waste of time?

LAIRD REID: [laughs] It's not their fault. There's a clue on the map, but you'd have to know a lot of Norse mythology to spot it.

JODY MARSH: Ellie would have known.

LAIRD REID: Aye. Your Ellie, or my wife. Those words on the map there, follow the footsteps of the father of the slain? That's another name for Odin. In his quest for knowledge, Odin hung himself upside down.

AMELIA SPENS: Ah, that does make sense. An ancient code for those in the know.

JODY MARSH: Just a sec. Jones drew this map from the Edda, we're sure of that?

AMELIA SPENS: That's what the Norse history boffins tell me. We're as sure as we can be that that map is in the Edda.

JODY MARSH: But look, Five. Turned upside down, it does follow the king of the rocks parade. The ceremony isn't just some folk tradition, it's from the Edda! Laird Reid, we'd never have figured it out without you.

SAM YAO: You've got the follow the rest of the route.

LAIRD REID: Tell me what you find.

JODY MARSH: We will.

SAM YAO: Hey, wait. What - what's over to your left?

JODY MARSH: I don't see anything.

SAM YAO: No, I thought... [sighs] No, you're right. There's nothing there now.

JODY MARSH: What was it?

SAM YAO: Well, it looked like a person in one of those gray coats. You know, the skincoats. I'm sure they were there!

JODY MARSH: Probably just shadows playing tricks with your eyes.

SAM YAO: Yeah, maybe. Look, just finish following the map and get home safe as soon as you can. Uh, the next marker's by the shore. Go, run!

JODY MARSH: There's a snake marked on the map here. Looks like the footpath leading into that cave. The parade starts outside it. Let's see if there's anything hidden in there, Five.

SAM YAO: Um, now if Jones had the missing pages of the Edda, do you think he knew the ceremony came from it?

JODY MARSH: Hard to say. His notes weren't exactly coherent. Mostly ramblings about what he'd do when he was made king of the rocks.

[zombie moans]

SAM YAO: Zombie!

JODY MARSH: Worse, a creepy child zombie! It's walked in through the cave entrance. It's blocking our exit.

AMELIA SPENS: Shoot it!

JODY MARSH: We didn't bring weapons!

AMELIA SPENS: Oh, for pity's sake!

SAM YAO: Uh, doesn't the king of the rocks cave have another opening?

JODY MARSH: Yeah. The parade used to start there, lighting bonfires deep into the cave. I heard the laird say the town council stopped it because of health and safety.

SAM YAO: Then you need to get to that entrance. Go!

[zombie moans]

JODY MARSH: There's a breeze up ahead.

SAM YAO: The cave opens out over the sea. If you let the zombie follow you out, then knock it off the ledge -

JODY MARSH: Way ahead of you. I'll lead it towards the opening. Five, grab some rocks. Aim for its knees.

[rocks clatter]

SAM YAO: It's slipping. Just one more!

[zombie croaks, water splashes]

JODY MARSH: Amazing shot, Five!

SAM YAO: Uh, guys, have a look at the cave ceiling.

JODY MARSH: Oh God. Amelia? The ceiling in this place, it's covered in those big bulging alien egg-looking things. Like the ones we found in Jones' camp, the things that coconut pomegranate-y seedpods hatch from.

AMELIA SPENS: The pods that brought red fungus to the mainland.

JODY MARSH: Yeah. And there's hundreds of the egg things in here, over our heads.

SAM YAO: Hold on. So the king of the rocks used to start with the islanders lighting fires in this cave?

AMELIA SPENS: And we think Jones lighting a campfire is what caused seedpods in his cave to hatch out.

JODY MARSH: So we're saying the king of the rocks is from the Edda, and part of the ceremony is causing fungus seedpods to hatch? And they used to do it on purpose for some reason?

SAM YAO: Um, but shouldn't Mor Island be overrun with V-types, in that case?

AMELIA SPENS: And certainly hatching more pods won't help us fight the red fungus. [sighs] The ceiling. It's not what I'm used to. In general, I've found when I want something, there's someone I can bargain with, some deal to be struck. But this... we're looking for knowledge no one has anymore about the meaning of a ritual whose origins are forgotten.

JODY MARSH: Jones' notes kept mentioning Edda verses 321 to 327. If we could read them, they might explain it all.

AMELIA SPENS: Yes, but we can't. I've just heard from my marines. Their house to house searches have yielded nothing. [sighs] I won't allow those seedpods to further devastate the mainland. The Edda is the key! We must get that book back! [sighs] So I'm going to need to find someone to negotiate with, aren't I?

#zombies run #zrs8 #s8m21 #I still haven't found what i'm looking for #zr transcript #zrs8 spoilers

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anngersmy · 6 years ago

Text

The Queen of Ireland

Sipping pints of the dark stuff they contemplated the news that was invading their peace. It was blaring out from the television that sat precariously balanced on a rickety shelf over the bar. There wasn't many in the pub, there never was anymore in this small town bypassed by the motorway to Dublin.

“Teresa May, UK prime minister, has lost the vote in Parliament. The troubled exit of Britain from the EU is likely to result in the return to a hard border for this island”

Images of car bombs, crying children,men in balaclavas and soldiers flashed across the screen.

Eochy looked over at his companion, her blond hair glittering in the dim light of the bar, her bright blue eyes glued to the screen while she pursed her ruby red lips in anger.

He coughed to get her attention.

“Do you remember that film, ya know the one with the students from Scotland stealing back that rock thing from the English? Do you remember?”

“You mean The Stone of Scone?” she replied absentmindedly.

“Scone? Scone? You mean like the bun you eat with butter and jam or like the English eat with cream, that Scone?” he half said to himself while she continued watching the news.

“Well it's spelled the same. Why?”

“I was thinking about that stone. They thought it was the Stone of Destiny, An Lia Fáil, you know what? It wasn't. They were mad wrong, it never left the Hill of Tara.”

He looked at her waiting for her questions.

“How do you know that? Oh, who cares?

“ Well, I do know and you should care because with that stone and you we can sort out the whole English Brexit shite once and for all. I dreamt about it last night and I know exactly where it is. In my dream a cloaked person led me right to it. I googled it and there are loads of rumours that's where it's at. My dream is true, I'm being led to it.”

“You've lost me completely now. I haven't a notion what you're talking about.”

He was exasperating at times.

Eochy didn't give up.

“The feckin’ English are going to bring the troubles back if we don't do something about it and our gobshites of politicians are just bending over backwards for their EU lords and doing nothing about it so, SO, we have to. We have to go to Tara, dig up the real Lia Fáil 'cos the penis stone they have there now isn't it, it's just like a headstone or whatever. The real one is buried somewhere beside the mound of hostages. We need to get the real one and you need to stand on it and Bob's yer uncle, United Ireland, sorted.”

He sat back, delighted with himself and downed his pint in one.

“Right, losing me again”

Etain had to admit she was more interested now.

“You're always telling me you're 100% Irish and your line goes right back to the Kings of Ireland so there is a pretty good chance if you stand on the Stone it will screech with Joy because you're the rightful heir to the throne and we won't need to worry anymore about a hard or soft border as there will be no border!”

“You, my friend are most likely mad, polluted drunk definitely and while I'm loving the idea, there is a problem, I won't be the King of Ireland, I'm a woman. Ireland is a woman and the King is married to her, that's how it works”

Etain sat back and looked at him.

Eochy looked puzzled.

“Don't get you, why? We can have a queen, sure it's 2019 for feck sake and didn't we vote in same sex marriage. Queen of Ireland, let's get the stone!”

He stood up unsteadily and made his way to the bar.

All that night, Etain couldn't get the conversation out of her head. She had a romantic head on her shoulders. She really was a direct descendant of Niall of the Nine hostages and therefore of the last great king of Ireland, Conn of The Hundred Battles. Legend said he was the last king to make the Stone of Destiny sing out in joy as a true King who could unite the country. The next morning she was still seriously contemplating it, though she couldn't believe it herself. She rang Eochy who was only waiting for her call and they agreed to meet back in the pub and trash the crazy plan out over lunch.

She greeted him with

“It's an archaeological site of international importance, I don't want any damage done. Is there any non-invasive way we can locate it first before we start digging, like maybe echo sounding or a drone or something? And, we could get in trouble, big trouble. Could end up in jail”

Eochy smiled, delighted this was happening

“Aye, Maybe we'll be fined or something, which is a crying shame and us only trying to save the country for feck sake. Trouble will happen only if It doesn't work”

“Yeah, only if it doesn’t work. We will need more help with this but who can we trust?”

Eochy couldn't stop smiling

"I was thinking Aengus, well he has a drone and a good understanding of how to excavate without damaging the site.”

“Oh yeah, he should do, he IS an Archaeological student. Oh he won't agree.”

“I think he will.” answered Aengus himself as he wandered into the bar.

“Eochy already sold the whole idea to me. We should do it as soon as possible. I've the drone outside and there was very little growth so we should get a good look at the land. If there is anything there we will see it.”

They discussed it more as they ate their lunch and then drove to the sacred site to have a look for themselves and plan the raid. Etain was worried Aengus doing a drone flight might be traced back but he assured her there were plenty of drones up there all the time and in fact he had, in anticipation, already put a rumour out about a naked pagan ceremony either today or tomorrow so there will be lots of activity. They'll be lost in the midst of all the air traffic and no one will be suspicious of them being there too.

“There are always prayer circles up there, The other drones will have plenty to look at while we work. It will be like we have a cloak of invisibility over us.” he laughed.

“Misdirection.” agreed Eochy.

When they got to the Hill there already was a bit of a crowd gathered in wait for the mysterious naked pagan ceremony just as Aengus had said. No one noticed them preparing their drone nor did they see that their drone was focused on one small area a little away from all the activity. They were taking detailed coverage over the mound of hostages while the prayer groups, who hadn't got naked yet, nor would they, were over at the phallic pillar.

Etain decided to take a closer look while the two men were playing with the drone. She wandered up to the entrance of the mound and stared into the darkness. A cloaked man approached her and asked was she joining the group. She said she was only having a look, having never been there before. His accent was Northern Irish, Antrim, like Eochy, she thought. He wandered off up the Hill.

The entrance was gated and locked. She had noticed that despite being an important historical site, there wasn't much other security about the place. The hill was accessible at all times, they would just need to be careful they weren't conspicuous, weren't followed up the Hill. They would need to bring something to cut the lock and dig. How do you carry a spade without drawing suspicion she wondered as she watched the eccentric group on the hill chanting.

When Etain came back down the two men had put away the drone.

“We took as much footage as we could and thermal imaging as well so if the stone is there we will see it.” Aengus said. “How did you get on?”

“I think I know how we get our shovels up there without looking suspicious, in the funniest way really, as anyone dressed like this would be suspicious anywhere else. We dress in cloaks and we carry our shovels in plain sight in our hands. Keeping the shovel part hidden under our cloaks and a candle on the handle we will walk to the mound in a procession as if we are performing a ritual. No one seems to pass any heed on that sort of carry on here.”

Aengus laughed.

“Great idea. We’'ll go back and examine this in detail, I'll enlarge it up and we can decide when we are coming back then.”

“The sooner the better I think” said Eochy, just to say something as he was feeling a bit superfluous.

“Imbolc” Etain said.

”Imbolc, First of February, day of the goddess Brigid, there will be activity here day and night just like there is at all the sites, no one will notice us.”

Aengus nodded

“That's less than a week, we better get back and examine these now so. You two ok to come over to mine?”

Eochy nodded.

“Yeah grand, will we stop by the pub and pick up our cars now or will you drop us in later?”

“I'll drop you there now and you can go home and pack a bag and come over to mine, we could be at this all night, you might as well stay over.”

When they all gathered again, excited with a little trepidation at what they were planning, each of them was afraid to say to the others that this might just be a risk not worth taking. No one in Ireland would appreciate them damaging the site. The authorities would most certainly frown at it. They may be arrested and all for a story, a magical legend that couldn't possibly be true but they just couldn't help themselves. It had turned into a quest, a mission, they felt obligated to follow now they had thought of it. Crime or no crime, they had to do it.

“Aengus, this is is very impressive” said Eochy as he looked around at the tech gadgets everywhere. One big screen was in front of the keypad with two smaller ones each side. Aengus was pointing at a spot he had circled on all three screens.

“See here, this darker patch in the photo, there's something solid there and here over in the thermal image you can see it more clearly. I've enlarged it in this one. It's rectangular, it's not as big or as phallic looking as the one they have up on the hill but if you look closely you can see a big crack down the middle where, according to legend, it split when Cú Chulainn hit it in anger. It could be it, maybe.”

Etain looked closely at the image.

“It's flat, you could stand or sit on it. I think it's worth a try. By the looks of it we have to break in through the entrance, follow the tunnel until we come to the back wall and dig into the left. It looks like there may have been a passage there before. I think we can do this without much interference with the site.”

“We don't know that for sure but we'll be years looking for permission and if the legends true well better now than never.” Aengus said against his better judgement.

Over pizza and a bottle, or two, of wine they discussed it more and had a plan of action for the next Thursday night, 31st of January, the eve of Imbolc. Eochy went over to close the curtains as it got dark and noticed a hooded figure standing under the lamppost across the street. While it was odd, he didn't mention it.

Dressed in cloaks the three gathered their tools from the boot of Aengus’s car, set the battery powered candles on the top of them and made their way up the Hill. They passed a few other cloaked and unusual individuals muttering chants as they wandered up and down the Hill. No one passed much heed on them. They got to the mound of hostages and Etain snapped the lock. Looking around to ensure no one noticed them they slipped inside and pulled the gate behind them. Down the dark passage they went to the end and started to dig at the wall on the left of them. They worked quickly and quietly, each taking turns to keep watch at the gate while the spiritual people outside wandered about their business. Aengus kept a close eye on what they were doing and anything of interest they found he noted it's position, documented it and photographed it. It slowed the process down but he insisted.

The night went on. Eochy was on watch and Etain and Aengus were working away when Etain hit a large hard rock. They both cleared all around it and pulled at it until they had it out and were preparing it to drag out of the mound. They were so excited they never noticed that Eochy had returned and he wasn't alone. Etain recognised the man from the day she had been here before and she looked at Eochy.

“I'm sorry, I had no choice. I owe them money. They were going to hurt you, kill you and me. I didn't have a dream. I made it up. I had to get you here, they wanted to make sure they got the stone so it can never happen, never come to pass and only a true queen could find it.”

“But it was your idea!”

“No it was mine.” The unwanted visitor stepped out and smiled at Etain.

“We can't take any chances now can we? There won't be a United Ireland in my lifetime or ever, not when we've disposed of you and the stone.”

“You said you wouldn't hurt her!”

“I did, I lied.”

He pointed his gun at Etain ready to shoot.

While they were talking, Aengus, unnoticed had been cleaning the stone and reading the Ogham lettering on its side in a low whisper. He pulled Etain onto it and finished reading. A guttural roar of deep joy vibrated through the chamber. Eochy and the intruder fell to the ground. Gusts of whirling wind surrounded them whispering

“We are released, our time has come.”

Aengus and Etain looked at each other wondering what they had done, They knew there would be a United Ireland but they didn't know under whose, or what, rule.

#shortstory #myths #legends #history #mystery #UnitedIreland #Brexit #Everycloudhasasilverlining

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