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intothedysphoria · 8 months ago

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“You’re telling me that the shit that snapped her out of it was Kate fucking Bush? God, that’s embarrassing.”

Steve wasn’t quite sure how they’d found Billy but they’d found him regardless. Sleeping in the trees, eating demobat meat for food. Hopper thought he’d just lost it, like his buddy had in Vietnam. Billy seemed fine though, perfectly lucid and no injuries that had the potential to be fatal.

So they took him in. He took a swing at several of the doctors who tried to have a look at him, until only Joyce was allowed to help. From what Steve understand, he’d spent most of the past week with his feet on the couch, being fed chicken soup.

Well, if anyone deserved the royal treatment it was Billy. God knows Steve had tried to give it to him. That is until he fucked up and Billy threw the promise ring into a bonfire.

Steve still replayed that night on a loop, alone in his bed. All the wrong things he’d said, bad decisions he’d made.

He was going to have many knarly scars draped across his back and spilling onto his chest. The Party, even though they would never officially admit to liking Billy, talked admiringly about them constantly. Steve had even heard Dustin call him a badass. Far, far cooler than Steve.

They were part of a small few who’d been allowed to know that Billy was alive, which led Steve to where he was now. Awkwardly perching on a chair in Joyce Byers sitting room, listening to Billy hold court to a raggedy pack of fifteen year olds and a fussing Joyce Byers.

She’d put some peonies in a jar for him. They’d always been Billy’s favourite flower. Steve still remembered Billy threading them into his hair, a proper crown for King Steve. It was what he’d brought to Billy’s grave too. After the funeral. A faggot like Steve wasn’t worthy of his son, Neil had said.

Max was loudly protesting, insisting that Kate Bush was cool. She’d cut her hair shorter so that it came just shy of tickling her shoulders. The doctors weren’t sure if she’d ever walk again. Steve didn’t think she seemed to care. Not now that she’d got her brother back.

Jonathan was fiddling with the radio, changing the station every other song because the past one had been too mainstream. Steve had been happy to tune it out as background noise until The Beatles came on and he winced.

From across the room, Billy winced too.

The months of Steve wearing out his record of Stawberry Fields Forever as he painted Billy. Just his face and chest, even though Billy had suggested post coitus and wiggled his eyebrows. Steve would pretend to be disgusted and push him away, only to pull him back and kiss him silly five seconds later.

They were high most of that spring of course, with the occasional dip into shrooms from Eddie’s stash. Of course being high was no excuse, but it was the only one Steve had.

The feeling of wailing into Neil with his bat had been goddamn euphoric until Billy pulled him off, face puce. He’d yelled for a good hour about how the police could have got involved (Billy hated cops), his income kept them from homelessness and maybe Steve, Billy didn’t fucking want to be saved. That, and the incident had ended up outing Billy completely.

They hadn’t talked since then. Billy wasn’t exactly quick to forgive and Steve hadn’t much felt like testing his luck. Until they were in the same room together, Steve with a chunk torn out of his side by a demobat and Billy with more scars than Steve could even count.

And Billy was looking at him. Not glaring, just considering. The Party had gone through what song they all thought could have saved them and then turned to pestering Steve who mumbled something about the new WHAM album.

Billy snorted from the corner. They both knew that wasn’t the real song Steve would have chosen.

To keep up appearances, Steve pivoted and said in a voice far more confident than he actually was:

“Oh and what metal crap would your song be Hargrove?”

Billy could have hit him. Maybe should have. But he didn’t. Instead he did something he hadn’t done in a long time.

He cocked his head knowingly and smiled at Steve, the way he’d used to before Steve had violated his trust and ruined what they had.

“Oh and for the record Harrington- the song that would have saved me is Strawberry Fields forever. Got a soft spot for The Beatles ya know.”

Only Steve knew what that really meant.

Steve, baby, everything is forgiven.

#billy hargrove #steve harrington #harringrove #harringrove ficlet #tw homophobic language #angst #angst with a hopeful ending

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curamorte · 11 months ago

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ELOUISE ANH MARCH ❧

FULL NAME: elouise anh march NICKNAME(S): ellie, lou ALIAS(ES): n / a OCCUP.: mortician, funeral home owner + operator AGE: 24 - 29 D.O.B.: 8 / 28 ETHNICITY: vietnamese - american ORIENT.: panromantic / demisexual RELIGION: agnostic, catholic upbringing ZODIAC: virgo / cat (rabbit) FACE CLAIM: trúc anh HEIGHT: 5’ 6 EYE COLR: golden brown HAIR COLR: black TATTOOS: n / a SCARS: n / a PIERCINGS: earlobes HOMETOWN: district eight, ho chi minh ~ vietnam + bishop, ca ~ u.s.a. CRNT RESIDNC: verse dependent LANGUAGE(S): english, a.s.l., vietnamese, v.s.l., spanish, french PARENT: be thuy march (nee nguyen) PARENT: elric alexander march FAMILY: n / a SIBLING(S): kim thanh march, elric huynh march jr. CHILD(REN): n / a PET(S): artax & falkor ( dumbo rats, m )

THEMES EXPLORED: finding comfort in death and the dead, respecting life and what comes after, becoming the dead's comfort, kindness above all else, softness as a strength, be the flower & the knife, accepting mortality when the dead can't, understanding fear to overcome it.

what do you get when an entomologist falls in love with a pinning specialist? elouise anh march is what. be met elric as college students and quickly fell in love, entering a field hand in hand with two of their favored interests. they married just about as quick as they’d fallen for each other, and soon after began building their family together. it started with kim thanh march ( of whom would become a taxidermist for the same museum her parents worked for ), then came elric huynh march jr. some years later ( who'd grow up to specialize in paleontology ). then, finally, elouise would be born. raised around a certain amount of death and respect for life- all life, big and small, is what elouise accounts her love and fascination for caring for the dead and it’s remaining living ever since she was young. pets were given lavish funeral services before elouise had much a concept of funerals as a whole, and when family surrounding her parents began to pass one by one, elouise began to truly understand the beauty and art behind funerals and their services for both the living and the dead. school life growing up was uneventful enough that it allowed elouise to focus on a quite life-long goal of entering the funeral business when she grew up. maintaining exceptional grades and involvement in extra-curriculurs, elouise devoted what extra time she had to learning all she could about funerals and their necessary role with grief and grieving. it fascinated her ( maybe a little more than it should have ). it fostered a level of care and caution for all life, in maintaining the gift given so that it could mean something when it was celebrated at its end. sure, it’d weird some of her school friends and classmates out when she asked if they’d like her to hold funerals for their pets, but it was always genuine. it was out of love and care for those around her, out of love and care for those which hav epassed, and out of the want and almost intrinsic need to bring joy to others in a deeply dark time. all of this never left her. even as an adult somewhat seasoned into the funeral service field as a mortician, elouise has never lost sight in what she does or who it is for.

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misfitwashere · 2 years ago

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Four Dead in Ohio

Keith Newman

On this day in May 1970 Four students were killed at Kent State by the Ohio National guard. The governor was behind in the polls and these deaths which he ordered helped him climb into contention. Though he lost by one point in 1970, he won re-election in 74 and 78. Some Parents told their (unharmed) kids who were at the scene, the Guard should have shot them all. That is how divided our nation was. (We can overcome Trump).

William Schroeder- Sought to understand the war. He had chosen to serve in the armed services and intended to go to Vietnam so he could better under understand the events of his time Allison Krause- The day before she had placed a flower in the barrel of a National Guardsman's gun saying; 'flowers are better than bullets. She was leaving campus on her way to her car to go to a job Jeffrey Miller- intelligent and kind, he was against the war in Vietnam but by no means was a violent protestor Sandra Scheuer- was on her way to class. Her father escaped the Holocaust to see his daughter murdered as others expressed their first amendment rights. She and Jeffrey Miller were in a relationship but were not together when the shots ending their lives rang out.

Source

A Not so Final Thought on May 4

Keith Newman

“There is, and there may never be, any closure for what happened at Kent State University. As I wrote almost 30 years ago: “No one was willing to confess. Which is understandable. After all, how would you like to go down in history as the man who started the killings at Kent State?”

William Gordon

Maybe Gordon is right. Maybe history will always treat May 4, 1970 as an open case, ensuring its lessons are taught and retaught to every generation of Americans. The dead cannot be brought back to life, the wounds of survivors hit by bullets cannot completely heal. The heartache affecting so many will not dissipate until their own hearts takes its last beat.

That is true for me as well. Though I feel a strong bond to those who fell on May 4, it was not my biological sister or brother whom was killed. My heart was not ripped open due to the unexpected loss of a loved one. For me it was my country. I lost the notion that our country was good, that our leaders could be trusted, that everyone deserved respect. And this loss I mourn. Questioning Authority became what I can do for my country.

“The fundamental role of a democracy is to control the amount of police force that is used. What happened was an inappropriate and very unfair use of force against protesting students”

Kent State Professor Jerry Lewis

“I disapprove of what you say, but I will defend to the death your right to say it,"

Patrick Henry

What happened that day was a 24 minute hunting expedition.

Alan Canfora

The Boston Massacre did have closure. It served a lesson for our not yet formed country, that everyone is entitled to a trial, that the accused shall always be granted a lawyer. The results of that trial astonished many.

The Kent State Massacre deserves such a legacy. General Canterbury, the commanding officer has passed away, Sergeant Pryor, the man who claims he never fired his pistol, a gun that wasn’t his, that he should not have had with him that day has died. So have several of the student survivors of that day such as Alan Canfora carrying the flag in the above picture. Canfora had chosen the Black Flag to reflect his dark mood over having recently attended a funeral for a close friend killed in Vietnam.

But Terry Norman remains alive. He was placed at the event by members of the City of Kent Police Department. He was given instructions on where to be, what to do. Acoustics say a gun was fired four times before the Guard returning from the practice field turned and fired on innocent civilians, just as German soldiers had often done during the Holocaust. We know Terry Norman on that day confessed to shooting his gun four times, admitted he may have killed someone, we know officers examined the gun stating it had been fired four times. We know he met on the practice field and conversed with several members of the Guard when the soldiers there realized their commanding officer was not prepared for the day, when discipline amongst the troops broke down, when several members of the Guard knelt in firing position guns aimed at students.

No one knows what happened during that time on the practice field, what plans were hatched as soldiers left the field and began their march up Blanket Hill, across the Commons, and back to the ROTC building. Americans deserve to know the truth of what happened on the day Democracy died. If the FBI wants to be taken respectfully by honest American citizens, it needs to come clean on what the FBI Agent who met with Terry Norman on May 3rd discussed. We need to know how Democracy died on May 4th.

Concepts, unlike human life can be brought back from the dead. When I visited Germany, another place where Democracy once died, I visited a Gestapo headquarters in Cologne. Blood was still on the walls. Fear gripped me even though I had nothing to fear. Anger rifled through me though there was no one I could vent my anger upon. Last night I dreamt that building was dismantled and shipped piece by piece to my house, and that it was my job to reassemble that shrine, a shrine that exists in a thriving Democracy. Kent State has done no less, and yet I fear in these Trumpian times, it’s not enough. That nothing will be enough. Martin Scheuer, the father of Sandra Scheuer escaped the Holocaust in Germany to see his daughter be killed in America while walking to class as others were expressing their first amendment rights. We who value these rights must be committed to “Never Again.”

Visit to Gestapo Headquarters

I walked into death

Cold burning into my soul

Screams imprinted onto the walls

White filth, charcoal blood, the empty rooms filled with unlived lives

Visitors spoke silently respecting the dead, fearing the torture,

Sounds no longer heard, still visible

The unspoken greeting at the door was not a welcome

Just an acknowledgement.

The guard, aware of my guilt though he knew me to be an innocent witness

An innocent witness no different than he the guard of guards

The preserver of the past, the guardian of the future.

Our eyes met.

We shared the acknowledgement.

I recognized his pain.

He recognized mine.

Our only sin We are survivors

Not in blood or tatoos, but in tears,

Not just for our own, but for those with whom we share the spirit,

I get to walk out of death and he comes home from it every night

We leave the cold death burnt into our souls and daily exchange it for the warmth of love

Tomorrow he’ll greet a new face with another silent acknowledgment

And I’ll be linked to all who visit through his ghostly but knowing stare

It’s not just the guilt we share, But the spirit

And the hope

No one will be guilty again

#Ohio #Kent State

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odctravel · 5 months ago

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Culture and Customs of the Cham Ethnic Group:

Cuisine The Cham have a diverse cuisine, including rice cooked in large or small earthenware pots. Main dishes include fish, meat, vegetables, hunted, gathered, and domestically raised or cultivated. Alcoholic drinks such as need wine and rice wine are used. The custom of chewing betel is also popular in daily life and traditional ceremonies.

Marriage Cham marriage customs maintain the matriarchal system. Although men play an important role in life, the elderly women are the heads of the family. It is customary for daughters to take their mother's surname. During weddings, the bride's family is responsible for organizing. The groom lives with the bride's family. The youngest daughter inherits the property, especially because she takes care of the elderly parents, receiving a larger share than her sisters.

Funerals The Cham have two main forms of sending the dead to the afterlife: burial and cremation. The Brahmanism group often performs cremation according to their religious regulations, while other Cham groups often perform burials. Those in the same lineage are usually buried in the same place, following the maternal lineage.

Religion and Beliefs Most Cham in Cambodia and the southwestern region of Vietnam follow Sunni Islam, practicing religious activities such as praying five times a day, fasting during Ramadan, and performing Hajj to Mecca. The Sunni Muslim Cham community in Cambodia has religious schools led by a Mufti. However, a small group called Kaum Jumaat maintains Shia theological adaptations with different religious practices.

Festivals The Cham have many agricultural ceremonies throughout the year, including canal digging, dam building, plowing, rice seedling celebrations, and rice flowering celebrations. However, the largest festival is Bon Katê, held grandly at temples in mid-October of the lunar calendar, significant in Cham culture and religion.

Traditional Attire

Cham men's attire features long hair wrapped in a turban, light or dark split-neck jackets, round-collar buttoned shirts, short-sleeved jackets, and long slit white or red shirts. The outfits are decorated with borders and round metal pieces. Traditional men's clothing includes skirts and trousers.

Cham women's attire often includes headscarves worn in various styles such as draped over hair, neatly wrapped, wrapped in an X shape, or wrapped and draped over the shoulders. Headscarves are usually white, with border patterns and motifs. Women's festive attire includes white long dresses and shoulder scarves.

Traditional Cham clothing is often white, with a unique design featuring a slit neckline and side panels made from a narrow piece of fabric as the central part of the shirt. Notably, Cham men are among the few ethnic groups in Vietnam still wearing skirts, with unique attire and aesthetic style.

[email protected]

#ChamHistory #ChamCulture #ChamPeople #ChamTraditions

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baoohu · 7 months ago

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Send Flowers to Vietnam: The Perfect Gesture for Every Occasion

Flowers have long been a universal symbol of love, joy, sympathy, and congratulations. Whether celebrating a birthday, an anniversary, expressing condolences, or simply saying 'I care,' flowers are the perfect way to convey your emotions. With the increasing ease of international shipping, it has never been simpler to send flowers to loved ones abroad. If you’re looking to send flowers to Vietnam, particularly with the help of a reputable brand like Ho Chi Minh Florist, you're in good hands.

Why Choose Flowers?

Flowers have an unmatched ability to brighten up someone's day. Their vibrant colors, delicate fragrances, and sheer beauty can lift spirits and bring smiles. Each flower carries its own symbolism – roses for love, lilies for purity, chrysanthemums for longevity – making them suitable for any occasion.

The Convenience of Sending Flowers to Vietnam

Sending flowers to Vietnam is now easier than ever, thanks to advanced logistics and reliable online services. Here are a few reasons why opting for flower delivery to Vietnam is an excellent choice:

1. Express Your Emotions

When words fall short, flowers can convey your heartfelt emotions. Whether you're expressing love, gratitude, sympathy, or congratulations, flowers can speak volumes.

2. Convenience

Online florists like Ho Chi Minh Florist make the process seamless. You can browse through a variety of arrangements, select the perfect bouquet, and have it delivered to your loved one’s doorstep in Vietnam without leaving your home.

3. Personalized Touch

With a wide range of flowers and arrangements available, you can customize your bouquet to suit the recipient’s tastes and the occasion. Adding a personal message can make the gesture even more special.

4. Timely Delivery

Reputable flower delivery services ensure that your flowers arrive fresh and on time. This is particularly important for time-sensitive occasions such as birthdays, anniversaries, or funerals.

Choosing the Right Flowers for Different Occasions

1. Birthdays

Bright, cheerful flowers like sunflowers, daisies, or mixed bouquets with vibrant colors are perfect for birthdays. They symbolize happiness and celebration, making them ideal for marking another year of life.

2. Anniversaries

Roses, especially red ones, are the classic choice for anniversaries as they represent deep love and passion. Orchids and lilies are also excellent choices, symbolizing beauty and refined elegance.

3. Sympathy

White lilies, chrysanthemums, and roses are appropriate for expressing condolences. They convey purity, peace, and remembrance, offering comfort during difficult times.

4. Congratulations

For celebrating achievements, consider bright and bold flowers like gerberas, tulips, or a mixed bouquet. These flowers represent joy and success, perfect for congratulating someone on their accomplishments.

5. Just Because

Sometimes, the best reason to send flowers is no reason at all. Surprise someone with a bouquet of their favorite flowers just to show you care. It’s a simple yet powerful way to brighten their day.

How to Send Flowers to Vietnam

1. Choose a Reputable Florist

Select a reliable online florist with positive reviews and a good reputation. Ho Chi Minh Florist is a trusted name that guarantees fresh flowers and timely delivery.

2. Select the Bouquet

Browse through the available options and choose a bouquet that fits the occasion and the recipient's preferences. Consider the type of flowers, colors, and arrangement style.

3. Add a Personal Touch

Include a heartfelt message to accompany the flowers. This personal touch can make your gift even more special and meaningful.

4. Provide Delivery Details

Enter the recipient's address and any specific delivery instructions. Ensure that all details are accurate to avoid any delays or issues with the delivery.

5. Place Your Order

Review your order, confirm the details, and proceed to payment. Most online florists offer secure payment options for your convenience.

Conclusion

Sending flowers to Vietnam is a wonderful way to express your feelings and brighten someone’s day, no matter the occasion. With the help of Ho Chi Minh Florist, you can ensure a seamless and delightful experience. Their wide selection of beautiful arrangements, reliable delivery service, and commitment to quality make them the perfect choice for your flower delivery needs. So, whether it’s to celebrate, console, or just because, send flowers to Vietnam and let your loved ones know you’re thinking of them, even from afar.

#send flower to vietnam #vietnam flower delivery #ho chi minh florist

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wutbju · 11 months ago

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It is with heavy hearts we announce the passing of James Hartley Young (Jim) on October 17, 2023, in Sebring, Florida, at the age of 90. Jim was born on February 25, 1933, to Edwin and Elizabeth Young in Plymouth, Massachusetts and was the youngest of eight children.

After graduating from Bob Jones University in 1955, Jim began his 27-year military career as a chaplain in the United States Army. In the military he was awarded the Senior Parachutist Badge with the 82nd Airborne Division and the Bronze Star with the 20th Engineer Brigade in Vietnam. He also served with the 1st Cavalry Division, Korea; the 1st Infantry Division, Fort Riley, KS; Special Operations Command, Okinawa; and was in the 5th Signal Command, Germany. From 1970-1975 Jim was Chief of the Course Development Branch, Deputy Director of Correspondence Courses and Chief of Military History Writing Team at the U.S. Army Chaplain Center and School at both Fort Hamilton and Fort Wadsworth, New York. While stationed at Madigan Army Medical Center in Tacoma, Washington he was the Chief of the Department of Ministry and Pastoral Care. Over the course of his military career he earned numerous medals, citations and awards. He retired full colonel in 1982. But ever the patriot, Jim requested to be re-instated during the 1990's Gulf War. He was disappointed with being denied because of age.

Jim had a love for education and spent most of his adult life as a student. While serving in the Army he earned seven Masters degrees: an MA in Clinical Psychology, MA in Counseling Psychology, MST in Sacred Theology, MA Political Science, MA Journalism, THM Theology and MDiv Divinity. He also completed four doctorates: Doctor of Theology, Doctor of Political Science, Doctor of Ministry, and Doctor of Clinical Psychology.

While working on his last doctorate his wife, Janis, passed away. A year and a half later he met and married his second wife, Dolores Mallery Pies.

Preaching was the foremost of Jim's passions. The Conservative Baptist Association of America ordained him in 1956 in Middleboro, Massachusetts, and from that time on he endeavored to be in the pulpit at every opportunity. From serving as a U.S. Army Chaplain on the front lines in Vietnam to being an interim pastor at numerous local churches, Jim's desire was to be serving his Lord in ministry.

After retiring from the Army, he taught 17 different undergraduate and graduate courses at Bob Jones University in the span of just four years. He then moved to Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, and founded Christian Therapy Services where he as a clinical psychologist spent many years counseling and helping individuals who were experiencing spiritual, emotional or psychological battles. After the 9/11 attack, he volunteered and served as counselor to survivors in New York City.

Jim was an avid athlete, excelling in basketball, handball, swimming and tennis. He also loved music, especially the old hymns, and even took up playing the violin at the age of 68. He loved animals and had chickens, dogs, cows and a horse on his mini-farm in Gettysburg, PA. And nothing made the end of his day better than having a big bowl of ice cream, a love that he passed on to his many grandchildren!

Jim was preceded in death by his first wife, Janis Swanson Young, grandson Jason Robert Dayhoff, stepdaughter Lorrie Pies, and all his siblings. He is survived by his wife, Dolores Mallery Pies Young, and four children; James Young, Jr. (Mary Anne), Julia Young Fremont (Gil), Jorai Young Dayhoff (Bob) and Joy Young Bates (Tim). He is also survived by two stepsons; Kevin Pies (Lisi) and Jeff Pies (Leigh), 14 grandchildren, 23 great-grandchildren, six step-grandchildren and two step-great grandchildren. He was a beloved husband, father, grandfather and uncle and will be sorely missed by all who knew him.

Funeral will be on October 25, 2023. Feel free to send flowers; or better yet, honor his heart for preaching the gospel by donating money in his name to a gospel preaching or missions outreach ministry.

#Bob Jones University #BJU Hall of Fame #2023 #Obituary #BJU Alumni Association #Class of 1955 #James Hartley Young

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edertwins · 1 year ago

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Victor B. Kley Funeral (1946 ~ 2023) from Eder Twins on Vimeo.

Victor's obituary

In Memoriam: Victor Kley, Visionary Inventor, Actvist.

It is with profound sadness that we announce the passing of Victor Kley, a pioneering inventor and visionary. Vic departed this world on November 12, 2023, leaving behind a legacy of groundbreaking contributions and activism.

Born on April 13,1946 in Washington, D.C, Victor Kley, “Vic” exhibited an early aptitude for science and technology. His insatiable curiosity and passion for pushing the boundaries of what was possible led him to become a trailblazer in early computers and electronics, and later in nanotechnology, and cold fusion. Vic earned a reputation as a brilliant mind and a tenacious problem-solver, garnering hundreds of patents over the course of six decades.

Vic was also a passionate advocate and political organizer. As one of the founding members of the Earth Day movement, he helped organize events and worked to uncover the effects of the use of Agent Orange in the Vietnam War. Vic’s dedication to the betterment of the environment and the human condition was born from the deep compassion he felt for the suffering of others and his concern for the children of the future.

A loving husband, father, and brother, Vic is survived by his wife and partner of 51 years Helen Munson of Berkeley, CA., his children, Douglas and Darrell Eder of Kailua-Kona, HI, Lysistrata Munson of Elk Grove, CA. and Victor Basil Kley III of Covelo, CA., his grandchildren Hamza Lhamous of Elk Grove, CA and Soumaya Lhamous of Berkeley, CA., and his sisters Melody Bratton of Millsboro, DE., Michelle Conci of San Mateo, CA. and Denise Lingenfelter of Hendersonville, NC. We mourn the loss of a mentor who never shied away from telling it like it is! His memory will be cherished not only for his brilliant mind but also for his warmth, generosity, and unwavering commitment to making the world a better place.

A memorial service to honor Victor Kley's life and contributions will be held on November 27, 2023 1pm at Sunset View Cemetery & Mortuary, El Cerrito, CA. In lieu of flowers, the family requests that donations be made to UNICEF in Victor Kley's name.

May he rest in peace, and may his legacy continue to inspire future generations to use their talents to make the world a better place for us all.

-Lysistrata

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cindyhangrad604 · 1 year ago

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Unpacking your Chosen Elements

Tiger Balm #6

Explain the Origin of this Element? Tiger Balm is a herbal pain reliever ointment that is effective for a wide range of aches and pains. Following the death of Chinese herbalist Aw Chu Kin in 1908, his sons recognised the potential of this product and began manufacturing across Asia.

Where did you get this Element? This element is easily accessible to the public. Can be brought online or purchased at your local Asian supermarket.

Why is this Element Significant to you? This element is significant to me Nostalgic aroma. Underlying holistic approach/beliefs in treating physical health, which is a similar approach in how I encounter in research.

Confusion Belief of the five elements. The theory of the five elements It’s believed that we’re connected to our environment and the natural world; our world is a part of the greater universe. Five Elements consist of fire, water, soil, metal, and wood. To visualise, it can be seen as a generating cycle, it’s used to showcase the interaction between elements in how they generate and overcome with each other.

How is this Element Significant to your Creativity? How has this object transcended throughout generations. How has it managed to travel across continents and had managed to retain its image. Admin. (2022, October 27). The tiger balm philosophy. Tiger Balm US - Proven Pain Relief. https://www.tigerbalm.com/us/about/ Jiang, J. (2023, January 10). Chinese Five Elements Philosophy and Culture. China Highlights. https://www.chinahighlights.com/travelguide/chinese-zodiac/china-five-elements-philosophy.htm

Five element framework. (2022, July 7). TCM World. https://href.li/?https://www.tcmworld.org/what-is-tcm/five-elements/

Frog Origami #7

Explain the Origin of this Element? Washington served as the first president of the United States, overseeing the growth of our nation from 1789 to 1797. He was a celebrated military figure, serving as commander-in-chief during the Revolutionary War before becoming president. Where did you get this Element? Family trip to the United States to visit extended family members. Origami leaping frog. Why is this Element Significant to you? This element is significant to me. A memory I cherish with extended relatives in learning how to make a frog origami. How is this Element Significant to your Creativity? Being innovative and making use of objects.

Tui Bird #8

Explain the Origin of this Element? Constructed Tui bird and New Zealand postcards to give to homestay during my stay in Vietnam. Where did you get this Element? I had purchased this item from a New Zealand tourist gift shop. Why is this Element Significant to you? Tui’s are a valuable species to New Zealand and are significant to Maori Culture. The significance of this element is to share something that’s significant to one culture with another. How is this Element Significant to your Creativity? Arts & Crafts.

Flower Arrangement #9

Explain the Origin of this Element? Walking with a bouquet of flowers, candles, and incense is one of the Buddhist funeral customs. Before the burial at the cemetery, it was customary to travel to the home of the deceased to assist and help navigate her way through the afterlife Where did you get this Element? Bouquet consisted of flowers, candles and incense sticks. Why is this Element Significant to you? Based on Buddhist beliefs, this act of mindfulness (by the attendees) can be seen as a way to earn merit that can be passed on to those who have passed. An act of good in self. How death is viewed in Buddhist customs? where friends and relatives are encouraged to be calm and peaceful. It's encouraged to talk about what good life the deceased had and how it will benefit their next incarnation. How is this Element Significant to your Creativity? This element is significant to my creativity is to showcase others of different perspectives. In this case, the idea of death and how it's viewed in different religions.

Funeral Partners. (n.d.). Buddhist funerals. https://www.funeralpartners.co.uk/help-advice/arranging-a-funeral/types-of-funerals/buddhist-funerals/#:~:text=The%20body%20is%20presented%20in,and%20carried%20to%20the%20crematorium Buddhist death and mourning rituals, funerals, and beliefs. (n.d.). Empathy. https://www.empathy.com/funeral/buddhist-traditions-in-death-and-mourning

Nin Jiom Cough Medicine #10

Explain the Origin of this Element? Nin Jiom Cough Medicine originated in the Qing Dynasty. The mother of a provincial commander suffered from a chronic cough that was cured by a physician’s concoction of 15 herbs. There is an underlying principle of Chinese philosophy and medicine as its believed that Chinese herbal medicines were prescribed to restore energy balance to the opposing force of the ‘Ying and Yang’. Classics of traditional Chinese medicine: Yin and Yang. (n.d.). National Library of Medicine - National Institutes of Health. https://www.nlm.nih.gov/exhibition/chinesemedicine/yin_yang.html

Where did you get this Element? Purchased items in a local Chinese supermarket. This cough syrup is a staple in an Asian household, Why is this Element Significant to you? This element is significant to me because it is my go-to medication when I have a sore throat. Herbal supplements in Asian culture.

How is this Element Significant to your Creativity? Sharing medication + popularity.

The Chinese herbal cough syrup that has taken New York by storm. (2018, February 27). The Telegraph. https://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/2018/02/27/chinese-herbal-cough-syrup-has-taken-new-york-storm/

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vietnamflorist · 1 year ago

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What Makes Flower A Better Gift For Birthdays?

Flowers are a common present for many different occasions. from funerals and graduations to anniversaries and saying "thank you." Yet are flowers a suitable birthday present? Absolutely! Because flowers are beautiful and meaningful, everyone to send birthday gifts to ho chi minh. But it can be challenging to select the ideal birthday flowers; that's why we're here to assist! Continue reading to learn why giving flowers is so precious and how to choose the greatest ones.

Is Flower A Good Gift For A Birthday?

Giving presents may be challenging, especially if you don't know what to gift your loved one. Because of this, send flowers to ho chi minh city vietnam. The floral arrangements are always a welcome present. They are lovely, upbeat, and excellent for those with limited space. Given that they can be provided right to a person's door, flowers make a great birthday gift as well!

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For ages, birthday gifts of flowers have been the norm. Flowers make great birthday presents for a variety of reasons, including:

Boosting Someone's Mood

Receiving a stunning and vibrant flower arrangement is the best feeling ever. Flowers are always valued since they show that someone special has thought about you, regardless of the occasion.

Convey A Feeling

Each species of flower has the ability to convey a variety of feelings to a unique recipient. Flowers will always evoke good sentiments, whether they be love, joy, sympathy, or admiration.

Flowers are among the most practical presents available since there are so many alternatives to pick from. They are easily scalable in terms of colour and dimension to fit any situation.

Flowers Have A Variety Of Odours In Addition To Their Lovely Appearance.

send birthday gifts to ho chi minh is an excellent choice if the person you love is far away or otherwise occupied throughout the day. Sending flowers to someone's place of employment or front door will undoubtedly make their day.

Conclusion

These are some reasons that make flowers a better gift on birthdays. You can find stunning gifts and flowers at Flora Vietnam.

#sendbirthdaygiftstohochiminhcity

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dienhoathanglong · 1 year ago

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Sending sympathy and funeral flowers at a difficult time can offer your loved ones a great deal of support and show that you are thinking of them in their time of need. The death of a family member or friend is a very hard and stressful time for most people. There are many complex emotions and at times words can fail us. In this way, a beautiful funeral arrangement of white roses, lilies and other popular funeral combinations can sometimes say more than words can. The gentle colours and soft petals can provide a very calming feeling which will help to ease the pain of a great loss or bad news.

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#saigon florist #florist saigon #funeral flower delivery saigon

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ledenews · 2 years ago

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Ross Herman Stoltz, Wheeling Philanthropist, Passes Away

Ross Herman Stoltz, 75, of Wheeling, WV, passed away Sunday, February 19, 2023, at Liza’s Place.

He was born in Naponee, NE, a son of the late Otto “Mike” and Mildred (née Whitney) Stoltz. Ross is known for his long and prestigious career with McDonald’s Restaurants, where he started as a crew person at the age of 17 alongside his older brother Clyde. Taking a break from his career, Ross enlisted into the army during the Vietnam War where he graduated from officer candidate school and achieved the rank of 1st Lieutenant. He was stationed at Ft. Jackson, South Carolina. After his three years of service in the army, Ross went to college at Nebraska University as an English major where he met his wife, Carol. After college, Ross resumed his career with McDonald’s corporation and directed numerous restaurants in the Pittsburgh region. In 1989 he was offered the position of McDonald’s liaison in Europe. After much thought, and being a devoted family man, he decided instead to become a McDonald’s franchisee. While owning and operating twelve McDonald’s restaurants, Ross and his family created thousands of jobs in Wheeling and across the Ohio Valley. He was especially admired for his professional drive, and his loyalty and dedication to employee growth. Ross was a participant in the McDonald’s Archways to Opportunity program, helping many of his employees achieve their high school diplomas and college degrees. Ross was also known for his commitment to upholding McDonald’s Golden Standards. During his career, he was a recipient of several awards including the Ronald Award (twice), the People’s Champion Award, and the prestigious Golden Arch Award, an award given only to the top performing 1% of McDonald’s franchisees in the world. Ross was heavily involved in charities and had a passion for supporting the community. He has supported many local schools, organizations, children’s sports teams, and countless fundraisers. He participated in McDonald’s MAC grants for teachers for over 20 years, and was a board member of Ronald McDonald House in Morgantown. Ross was also dedicated to sponsoring the Ohio Valley Athletic Conference and had great pride for the McDonald’s OVAC All-Star Marching Band, whom he supported for over 25 years. His philanthropy with the OVAC earned him placement in the OVAC Hall of Fame, one of his most prized achievements. Ross was a fan and major sponsor of the Wheeling Nailers hockey team, whom he also supported for over 25 years. Ross was a longtime member of the American Legion Post 364, located in his hometown of Naponee, Nebraska. During his spare time Ross enjoyed gardening, watching sports and the Wheeling Nailers, going to rock concerts, and proudly loved watching his grandkids play youth hockey. In addition to his parents, he is preceded in death by his two brothers, Raymond and Clyde Stoltz. Ross is survived by his loving wife of 48 years, Carol (Cutright) Stoltz; three children, Amanda (Glenn) Moore of Wheeling, Michael (Connie) Stoltz of San Diego, and Robert “Bob” Stoltz of Wheeling; two grandchildren, Brenden and Tessa Moore; several in-laws, nieces, nephews and cousins; and his beloved cat, Fred. Family and friends will be received Wednesday, February 22, 2023 from 12-3 and 5-7 pm at Altmeyer Funeral Homes, Elm Grove Chapel, 154 Kruger St. Interment will be held at a later date at Naponee Cemetery, Naponee, NE. Ross’s family would like to thank the staff and volunteers at Liza’s Place for their excellent care and service. In lieu of flowers, memorial contributions may be made to Ronald McDonald House Charities of Morgantown or to the Naponee Booster Club in Naponee, C/O www.tmcfunding.com. Read the full article

#belmontcounty #BrookeCounty #MarshallCounty #McDonalds #McDonaldsOVACMarchingBand #ohiocounty #UpperOhioValley #wheeling

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annarellix · 2 years ago

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THE SUNSHINE GIRLS by Molly Fader - EXCERPT

Book Summary: A cross between Firefly Lane and The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo, a dual-narrative about two sisters who realize their mother isn’t who they’d always thought when a legendary movie star shows up at her funeral, unraveling the sweeping story of a friendship that begins at a nursing school in Iowa in 1967 and onward as it survives decades of change, war, fame—and the secrets they kept from each other and for each other. A moment of great change sparks the friendship of a lifetime... 1967, Iowa: Nursing school roommates BettyKay and Kitty don’t have much in common. A farmer’s daughter, BettyKay has risked her family’s disapproval to make her dreams come true away from her rural small town. Cosmopolitan Kitty has always relied on her beauty and smarts to get by, and to hide a devastating secret from the past that she can’t seem to outrun. Yet the two share a determination to prove themselves in a changing world, forging an unlikely bond on a campus unkind to women. Before their first year is up, tragedy strikes, and the women’s paths are forced apart. But against all odds, a decades-long friendship forms, persevering through love, marriage, failure, and death, from the jungles of Vietnam to the glamorous circles of Hollywood. Until one snowy night leads their relationship to the ultimate crossroads. Fifty years later, two estranged sisters are shocked when a famous movie star shows up at their mother's funeral. Over one rollercoaster weekend, the women must reckon with a dazzling truth about their family that will alter their lives forever…

The Author: MOLLY FADER is the USA Today bestselling and award-winning author of The McAvoy Sisters Book of Secrets, The Bitter and Sweet of Cherry Season, and more than 40 romance novels under the pennames Molly O'Keefe and M. O'Keefe. She grew up outside of Chicago and now lives in Toronto.

Author Website: https://mollyfader.com/ Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/molly.fader Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/mokeefeauthor/ Twitter: https://twitter.com/MollyOKwrites Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/18435981.Molly_Fader

Buy Links: BookShop: https://bookshop.org/p/books/the-sunshine-girls-original-molly-fader/18408170?ean=9781335453488 Harlequin: https://www.harlequin.com/shop/books/9781335453488_the-sunshine-girls.html Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-sunshine-girls-molly-fader/1140810565?ean=9781335453488 Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Sunshine-Girls-Novel-Molly-Fader/dp/1335453482/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=sunshine+girls+molly+fader&qid=1668111685&sprefix=sunshine+girls+molly%2Caps%2C109&sr=8-1 Books-A-Million: https://www.booksamillion.com/p/Sunshine-Girls/Molly-Fader/9781335453488?id=8292090795540

EXCERPT:

Clara Greensboro, Iowa 2019

There were too many lilies. Clara wasn’t an authority on flowers or funerals. But, it was like a flower shop—that only sold lilies—had exploded in the blue room of Horner’s Funeral Home. This was what happened when everyone adored you. They buried you under a mountain of your favorite flower—in this case, stargazers with their erotic pink hearts and sinus-piercing pollen—before they actually buried you. And it was just a cosmic kick in the pants that Clara Beecher was allergic to her mother’s favorite flowers. “Clara!” Mrs. Place, her eighth-grade language arts teacher, clasped Clara’s hands in her bony grip. Mrs. Place had not changed at all. She was the kind of woman who seemed middle-aged at seventeen and just waited for time to catch up. “Your mother was so proud of you. You and your sister, you were her pride and joy.” “That’s nice of you to say,” Clara said, keenly aware of her sister, Abbie, across the room doing the sorts of things that would make a mother proud. “At book club, she’d go on and on about you and the important work you were doing in the city and, well, most of it went right over my head,” Mrs. Place said. There was nothing complicated about Clara’s work; Mom just lied about it so, as a former hippie, she didn’t have to say the words my daughter is a corporate shill. “But you could tell she was just so proud.” Clara pulled her hand free in time to grab a tissue from one of the many boxes scattered around the room and held it to her allergy-induced, dripping nose. “Thank you,” she said through the tissue. “Everyone is going to miss Betts,” Mrs. Place said. “So much. There’s not a part of this town that she wasn’t involved in. Church, the library. Park board. Community gardens.” Like an invasive species. Invite her to something and she’d soon be running the show. Grief is making you sharp. That was something her mother would say. If she wasn’t dead. The Blue Room of Horner Funeral Home was hot and wall-to-lily packed with people coming to pay their respects to one of Greensboro’s favorite citizens. BettyKay Beecher had lived her whole adult life in this tiny town, and the town had shown up bearing casseroles and no-bake cheesecakes for the reception after the burial, wearing their Sunday best, armed with their favorite BettyKay stories. She sat with my dad when he was dying. She helped us figure out the insurance paperwork when our son was in his accident. They were all mourning. The whole room and the hallway outside and the people still sitting in their cars in the parking lot. People were crying real tears, huddling, sobbing—actually sobbing—in corners. And all Clara could think was: Did they know? Had Mom, in true fashion, told the entire town the secret she’d kept from her own daughters for nearly forty years? The bombshell, life-rearranging, ugly secret she’d blurted, exasperated and furious with Clara in their last phone call? Would they be mourning so hard if they knew? Clara sneezed. “Oh, bless you, honey,” Mrs. Place said. “It’s just allergies.” Clara folded up the tissues before putting them in the pocket of her new black Marco Zanini suit with the sash tie and the sky blue silk lining. She’d thought the lining might be a bit much for a funeral, but that was before she knew about the lilies. And don’t get her started on all the men wearing camouflage. To a funeral. Were they all going hunting after this? “She’s with your father now. I hope you find comfort in that.” “I do, thank you.” It was, as it always had been in Greensboro, Iowa, easier to lie. Another person came up with another story about BettyKay Beecher. “Is that your sister?” She pointed across the room after sharing an anecdote about their time together in the Army Nurse Corps. “Abbie?” Abbie was surrounded by her friends from childhood—who used to be Clara’s friends from childhood, not that it mattered—who kept bringing her mugs that were not filled with coffee. Abbie’s cheeks were flushed and her eyes were bright and she was half-drunk, crying and hugging and not at all bothered by the lilies. “Yep. That’s my sister,” Clara said, ushering the woman toward Abbie and not even feeling bad about it. “She’d love to hear your story.” Three years ago, they’d stood in this exact same room, mourning their father, Willis Beecher. It was hard to be home and not see him in the corners of rooms. She couldn’t drink rum or Constant Comment tea and not miss him. The smell of patchouli could bring her to tears. A sob rose up in her throat like a fist, and her knees were suddenly loose. She put a hand against the table so she didn’t crumple onto the floor. I’m an orphan. Me and Abbie—orphans. She was a full-grown adult. A corporate lawyer (about to make junior partner, fingers crossed) who billed at $700 an hour. She had a condo on Lakeshore and a good woman who loved her. Abbie had two kids of her own, a husband of twenty-five years and kept slices of homemade lemon loaf in the freezer that she could pop in a toaster in case someone stopped by for coffee. They were far from orphans. But she couldn’t shake the thought. Clara found the side door and stepped out. The wind was icy, blowing across the farmland to the west, picking up the smell of fries and burgers from The Starlite Room, only to press her flat against the yellow brick. She felt the cotton-silk blend of her suit snag on the brick. The first few days of March were cold, too cold to be out here without a jacket, but the freshness woke her up. Spring hadn’t committed to Iowa yet and the cornfields were still brown, lying in wait, like everything else in Greensboro, for the last blizzard to come hammering down from the Dakotas. Her phone buzzed. She left it in her pocket. Horner’s Funeral Home was on the other side of town from the Greensboro University, and St. Luke’s School of Nursing’s white clock tower was just visible over the trees. The university had all the flags lowered to half-mast for the week. It was a nice touch. Mom had been a student there and then a teacher and for the last twenty years, an administrator. She closed her eyes, letting the wind do its work. “Hey.” Clara felt her sister lean back against the wall next to her, smelling of vanilla and Pinot Grigio. “Hey,” she said, eyes still closed. “The lilies—” “Yeah.” “You okay?” Clara hummed in her throat, a sound that wasn’t yes or no. That was, in fact, the exact sound of the exhausted limbo the last few days had put her in. “Me neither,” Abbie said. “It just… I feel like I’m missing something, you know? Like I’m walking around all wrong.” Clara felt the same. Being BettyKay Beecher’s daughter was a part of her identity she didn’t always carry comfortably, but it was there. “Where’s Vickie?” Abbie asked, and Clara caught herself from flinching at the sound of her girlfriend’s name. “She wishes she could be here but she has a case in front of the Illinois Supreme Court.” She felt Abbie’s doubt, the way she wanted to probe and pick. “Did you have to blow up that picture so damn big?” Clara asked, before Abbie could get to her follow-up questions. All around the funeral home were pictures of the Beecher family. And—God knows why—Abbie had decided to blow up to an obscene size, the picture of their mother that was on the back of her book: Pray for Me: The Diary of an Army Nurse in Vietnam. In it BettyKay was a fresh-faced twenty-two-year- old, with a helmet-shaped brunette bob wearing an olive green United States Army Nurse Corps uniform. “Darn.” “What?” “Fiona’s turning into a little parrot, so we don’t swear anymore. We say ‘effing’ and ‘darn’ and ‘poop.’” “That’s effing nonsense.” “Probably.” Clara could hear the smile in her sister’s voice. “And yes, I did. I love that picture of Mom. She looks so brave.” Clara thought she looked terrified. “Max and Fiona don’t understand what’s happening,” Abbie said. “They keep asking why Gran is lying down.” Clara’s laugh was wet with the lingering allergic reaction to the flowers. “That’s awful.” “Denise from the hospital keeps trying to get the kids to touch Mom’s hand. So they can feel how cold she is and then they’ll understand.” “What will it make them understand?” “That she’s dead.” “That’s morbid even for Denise.” They were both laughing, which felt alien but sweet. “She says it will give them closure.” Abbie reached out and grabbed her hand. Clara started to pull away, but Abbie didn’t let go. I should tell her. Part of her even wanted to. To share the burden of information like they were kids again. And Abbie, who liked the view from the perch her reputation as a Beecher in this town gave her, would tell Clara it wasn’t true. Couldn’t possibly be. That Mom had been wrong. Angry. Something. Some excuse to keep everything the way it was. That was why Clara couldn’t tell her. Because Abbie had to live in this town side by side with the memory of Mom. Bringing Abbie into it would make her sister’s life harder. “Abbie, don’t get upset but I am going to leave after the reception at the church.” There. Done. Band-Aid-style. “And go where?” Abbie asked. “Back home.” And here comes the look. “Chicago? You’re kidding.” “We have a new client—” “You’re leaving?” Accidentally Clara caught Abbie’s furious gaze and wished she hadn’t. She could see her sister’s rage and her grief and it felt worse than her own. “I’ll be back,” Clara lied. “Bullshit.” So much for not swearing. “Abbie—” “You know. I should have expected this. You show up last-minute in your car and your ugly suit—” “Hey!” “With your nose in the air—” “I’ll pay to have the house boxed up.” Abbie sucked in so much air Clara went light-headed from the lack of oxygen around her. “Can we please not make this a big deal?” she asked. “What did I ever do to you, Clara? To make it so easy for you to leave me behind?” The wind caught the side door as it opened, banging against the brick with a sound that made Clara and Abbie jump like they’d been caught smoking. Ben, Abbie’s husband, stuck his head out and Abbie stepped forward. Ben was a good-looking guy in a gentle giant kind of way. Constantly rumpled, but usually smiling. He reminded Clara of a very good Labrador retriever. She wanted to pat his head and give him a treat. And then yell at him for tracking mud across the rug. “There you are,” he said. “I was just getting some air,” Abbie said, with surprising defensiveness. “Is everything okay?” “There’s…” Ben glanced over his shoulder and made a face, bewildered and somehow joyful in a way that made Clara and Abbie push off the wall. It was his mother-in-law’s funeral after all. Joy was a strange sentiment. “What?” Clara asked. “Well, I think you should come in and see for yourself.” Ben held the door while Abbie and Clara walked back into the packed room. Everyone was silent now, pressed to the walls and corners in little clumps, whispering in that painfully familiar way out of the corners of their mouths and behind their hands. There was a path down the center of the room right to Mom’s casket, where she lay with her arms crossed, wearing her favorite green dress and way too much blush. Standing at the casket, was a woman. A stranger. Everything about her screamed not from around here. She wore an elegant long black skirt and a pair of boots with low heels of rich black leather. A gray sweater (Ralph Lauren Collection cashmere or Clara would eat her own boots) with a black belt around her trim waist. Her hair was long and silvery blond, the kind that appeared natural but Clara would put money on the fact that it cost a lot and took a lot of time to keep that way. She kind of…glittered. “Who is that?” “You don’t recognize her?” Ben whispered between Abbie and Clara’s shoulders, his breath smelling of coffee and cough drops. Something about the woman did seem familiar, polished. “Is she from the publishing company?” she asked Abbie. “I don’t think so. They sent a cheesecake.” “That morning show Mom did sometimes, in Des Moines? Ramona?” “Ramona Rodriguez died, like, ten years ago.” Clara should know this woman. But her mother’s funeral was throwing her off. “Are you kidding me? You really don’t recognize her?” Ben asked. “It’s Kitty Devereaux.”

#women's fiction #graydon house #Blog Tour #NetGalley #excerpt

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wantedtourist · 3 years ago

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Do you think Terry is Irish-American? Specifically, maybe raised Irish Catholic? It’d be an interesting comparison to Daniel who the fandom headcanons as Italian Catholic.

I have headcanon-ed that Terry is of Irish descent since I learned that TIG is of Irish descent 😄. Also, after learning about the ballad “Danny boy” via TIG singing a tiny bit of it in Excessive Force, I decided a fun (🥴) “Terry is Irish” HC is that the reason Terry calls Daniel “Danny boy” is that he grew up knowing that song. It’s been around since the early 20th century, sung by various famous artists over the decades, and supposed to have special meaning for the Irish diaspora. And (someone CMIIW) from reading comments on yt videos of the song, I’ve gathered that “Danny Boy” is for special occasions, including funerals. One interpretation of the song is that it’s a parent’s message to a son who is going off to war.

Oh, Danny boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling From glen to glen, and down the mountain side. The summer's gone, and all the roses falling, It's you, It's you must go and I must bide. But come ye back when summer's in the meadow, Or when the valley's hushed and white with snow, It's I'll be there in sunshine or in shadow,— Oh, Danny boy, Oh Danny boy, I love you so! But when ye come, and all the flowers are dying, If I am dead, as dead I well may be, Ye'll come and find the place where I am lying, And kneel and say an Avé there for me. And I shall hear, though soft you tread above me, And all my grave will warmer, sweeter be, For you will bend and tell me that you love me, And I shall sleep in peace until you come to me!

So here’s an interesting thought for this “Danny boy” HC: Terry in Vietnam, humming or singing this song to himself. For comfort? Who knows! Depends on what the song means to him. Because hey. Maybe it was sung for him by a family member on his way out; or maybe it wasn’t, and that burned. And so, then, what of the journey from “Danny boy” the song (meant for goodbyes but also for reunions/home), to “Danny boy” the special name for Daniel (the person he wants to possess, control, consume)? Idk idk, I just feel like something can be coaxed out of that,,, 😶 (y’know, I’m feeling compelled to make a silverusso video edit to “Danny Boy” now… This version in particular! Seen in @godwithwethands post. I will make the lyrics work for me.)

Um wow that super got away from me and had little to do with your ask! Sorry LOL. Going back to your original question: I actually haven’t thought much about Terry being Irish Catholic. But if fandom has decided Daniel is Italian Catholic, then I say why not! And hey, according to wiki, TIG attended a Catholic high school and a Catholic college. Rpf-ers, do with that what you will 😇

#terry silver #daniel larusso #silverusso #the karate kid 3 #cobra kai #ask

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pricescigar · 3 years ago

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What if Dietrich Wolff died in Vietnam?

(Pt.2)

"Shooting a gun is easy, you either can get the one easy kill... Or critically hit them and they only have a couple of hours or even minutes to live... If not treated properly, you just gotta hit them at the right place." Perseus would say he relaxed Elvira's shoulders gently. And he helped her aim the gun correctly, staring at the target himself. And there he would slowly mutter to Elvira. "You don't want to dislocate your shoulder either, now it is the choice you can make. Critically hit them, or shoot it where it hurts most." He lastly said.

Elvira had shot the target perfectly at the critical part, that part being the head Perseus himself was pleased very pleased; The smile under his mustache, she had proven herself well in flying colors, she for sure was the Wolff's daughter without a doubt. And the other Agents themselves, were honored to finally meet her at last. Someone who inherited a Wolf's instincts and to act like one, and that was Elvira.

"Well done Elvira, I am pleased... Very pleased indeed. You've improved so well in the last couple of days." Perseus would say placing a hand on her shoulder.

Elvira seemed happy she shot the target perfectly, and held the gun down before then looking back over to Perseus smiling softly. He had been a great support, since she went with him. Perhaps all she needed all along, was a father figure.

"Here, devushka you can place the gun back where it belongs for now. And after some thought... I think you're finally ready now." Perseus would say to her.

Elvira placed the gun back in it's box, they were only at a small training ground that had been made just for them. Mostly Elvira spent her time in it, just to practice on her fighting skills. It was only just these last few days, Perseus was teaching her how to shoot a gun. She glanced back over to Perseus in curiosity, she simply raised an eyebrow. "Ready for what? What is it?"

This was the best part, Perseus simply gestured her to follow him and she did. They soon came across to a secluded area, not far from their safehouse and there was a single gravestone as he approached it. "Elvira this gravestone ... Is where your father is actually buried, not in Berlin. But here." He would say.

Elvira slowly approached over to the Gravestone, gently placing her hand on it, staring down at it a little. This felt different than the one back in Berlin, maybe this was the whole part of healing? She didn't know anymore.

"He wanted to be buried here, as far as I'm aware. He didn't tell me the reason why— It was a will of his, and so I made it happen." Perseus replied, standing by her side.

"I was so young, when the funeral happened in Germany... I didn't even know what to feel then, and now I'm just feeling a whole bunch of different emotions at hand." Elvira sighed softly.

"This is the whole part of healing Elvira, maybe you're getting the closure you need. And as I promised... I'm here to help you with that. You needed this closure. " Perseus would say looking back to the Grave, he made sure that gravestone alone was treated with care. The flowers were still blooming around it, a few things were still on his grave in honor as well. Elvira continued to stare at the grave in silence. Both of then stared in silent, a sign of respect they guessed. "He also left something behind for you, whenever you're ready to see it. Of course." Perseus soon spoke to her.

"I would like to see it, at any point I just want the closure I really need at this time." Elvira sighed softly, standing up from her place looking back at Perseus.

As they arrived back inside Perseus guided her down the halls, and over to a room that had been kept locked and he soon unlocked the door before then opening it for Elvira. "This was your father's room, Elvira. Feel free to look around if you want. I have no objection." He said.

Elvira began to walk around the room, everything remained as it was though the room was always dusted and cleaned regularly just to keep it tidy. There were pictures left behind; When Dietrich and Mia got married, him and his brothers, him and with a superior in the war; That being here Freisienger and most of all, one picture of him and Elvira. Along with one of Dietrich and Mia on their wedding day.

His firearms had been put to one side, even some of his outfits had been left in the Wardrobe. Still untouched, and most of all he kept the many drawings Elvira had done for him. He seemed to have kept them in one souvenir box. Everything or anything Elvira had given to him, it would go into the box.

"He kept everything, even those silly drawings... I thought he'd thrown them away or something because they do really look awful. Looking back at it now." Elvira began to laugh about it, before then looking down to the drawing. She even remembered clearly when she drew this for him, it was a couple of days before he left for Vietnam. And he was never to be seen on the face of the earth again.

They were little stick figures, there were three of them to be precise. The sun was on the corner of the page. Little clouds on the top, green grass. A big grey bear each was Smokey; The stick men were; Vater, Mutter & Me.

"... I will honour you Vater, no matter how long it takes. I'll get Russell Adler, for you. I'll make you proud, then I can finally rest in peace..." Elvira spoke softly, looking over to the photo of her father.

Meanwhile in Germany. . .

"Please... Mr Adler, do you have any update on Elvira? I don't know how long I can possibly wait... Is she even alive? Or is she lost... Please she's all I got. I love her very much..." Mia begged him, she had been so uneasy the last couple of days, amidst Elvira's disappearance; With Kalli by her side, it made it a little bit better. However, all she ever wanted was Elvira to come back home.

"We're trying Ms Jäger, we're trying all we can. Unfortunately the moment we arrived at Volkov's warehouse, the place was deserted as anything. He knew we were coming to get them, but what else would help my colleague and I. If you tell us more about your daughter? Anything will help actually." Adler asked, to which Mia nodded in agreement.

Adler and Park were in the household with Mia, unfortunately Kalli was at work. And Mia was the only one there, except for Adler and Park. Yet she didn't have the mentality to work or even do anything else; The disappearance of Elvira ruined her, and she knew it was all her fault. Making the two more comfortable, she made them some coffee and made one herself. Before then placing it down on the table for them, grabbing her one from the counter. Soon sitting back down opposite the two.

"Elvira is... Tall, black hair and emerald green eyes. She knows how to keep things to herself, and especially when it comes to defending herself. I don't know who taught her how to fight like that but, she said by her words: "It is easy to fight." Then left it like that... Though, we never spoke about it again..." Mia said while drinking a bit of her coffee, Adler listened intently. Park was writing anything down, mainly trying to find loopholes or anything of the sorts that'll help. "Dietrich of course passed when she was five, and she was daddy's little girl as everyone says... But the moment he wasn't around, she noticed easily. And that's when she began to change, eleven years later. Elvira wanted to know everything about her father, she was aware of what he did in the war. But not with ... Perseus." She explained to them.

"Sounds like she's been looking out for someone, someone in terms of having a father figure. It's something that she needs in her life. To fill that emptiness. '' Park easily guessed, looking back up to Mia.

"Well, my boyfriend. Kalli, that's what he's been trying to do. He knew what happened and everything else, but it's almost like Elvira hates him. For no reason at all, and I always pulled her up on it because it was rude." Mia shook her head alighting softly.

"It's because he isn't him." Adler put it plain and simple, exhaling the smoke from his lips before taking a sip from his coffee. "He isn't Dietrich Wolff, and she won't settle it for anyone else. Or will find someone, similar to that. That's why I believe your daughter went to Perseus."

"Perseus? I don't understand... Why on earth would she do that? She's only sixteen..." Mia became pale at the thought of it.

"That's what we're trying to find out, we couldn't find traces of her going on public planes, the train or even bus routes, we only found security footage of her wandering out nearly at midnight. Then she hasn't been seen from that point." Adler said.

"Sometimes some children or teenagers are manipulated easily into things— Volkov was the gateway, he knew her father. And used that tactic to get her on his side, the rest is History... And that's where she may have been taken to Perseus, or willingly went there herself." Park replied as she finished her writing, placing the pen on top of the notebook.

"Unfortunately that's all the time that we have for today, we will keep you updated as much as we can. I appreciate the Coffee." Adler said, finishing the last bit standing up from his seat and so did Park too.

"Before you go ... Here is a picture of Elvira, should you need it." Mia said getting a photo out of her pocket, it was only a small one. Handing it over to Adler; He took it from her, soon leaving the house.

Adler stared at the picture; He remembered clearly in Vietnam when Dietrich was taken down, but he certainly wasn't aware that he had a child. Slowly he was starting to put the puzzle pieces overhead, they just needed to fit in the right place.

"She looks like him, eerily, that's the scary part. A mini version I would say." Park said observing the photo, which made Adler snap back into reality looking over to Park.

"Yeah... Can't help to think that we're missing something out on this, maybe it'll come to me. Or even she just ran away, because she couldn't get her way... We'll find her. I'm sure of it. When we find her, maybe she knows something that we don't know at all." Adler finished his cigarette, throwing it to the ground, taking the smoke out with his foot.

Meanwhile in Russia. . .

"Volkov gave news to us that Russell Adler and his associate Helen Park were roaming around the streets. And may be headed towards our way any day now, it's with extended caution you keep Elvira safe. And yourselves too, please ... Watch your back, we'll be always watching the streets." Persues said to his agents, they all nodded in agreement. The meeting was soon over, one by one they left.

The security tightened whenever Perseus, Elvira went out together or separately. He knew how important she was to him, and to her late father. And what better way is to keep her safe, and away from Rusell Adler and Helen Park. Including any other filthy agents who are involved as well. However after an attempted kidnapping on the coast of Leningrad, Perseus thought it was best to put Elvira in an undisclosed location in Russia, as much as it hurt to depart from her. It was the best thing he could possibly do, he made sure plenty of guards were with her; Of course he didn't underestimate her will to protect herself, it was more of the fact that he would do anything to protect her. And would ensure her safety.

Alas, there had been double agents that had successfully infiltrated their way into being Elvira's body guards. How the hell did they manage to pull that off, who knows? Woods and Mason were put up for the job, to capture Elvira Wolff. Woods knew a bit of Russian, Mason however; Well he was completely fluent with it.

"Be on your toes Mason, they got more guards here than usual... Nice and slow..." Woods spoke quietly to him, he observed the surroundings.

"Yeah you're the one for being quiet?" Mason teased him, holding the gun firmly in his hands as they approached over to the safehouse.

"I'm a goddamn Onion Mason, you should know that by now." Woods scoffed a little, but a light chuckle escaped his lips. They quickly switched back to being serious, a couple of guards could be seen patrolling the safe house. It backed into the forest, if luck was on their terms. They could retreat in the forest, call for an immediate Exfil and should be right as rain.

In the safehouse Elvira resided there, she had only been here for a couple of hours but was bored out of her mind already. She knew they were doing what it takes to protect her, however long she would be here. That Elvira was unsure of. Mason and Woods cautiously got inside, they saw Elvira was distracted. For now, Mason stood by the door and Woods went forth stealthily.

Elvira was looking down at a few things that needed to be done throughout the day, and turned to see Woods. Before she could even react, she was already locked out and Woods held her so her body wouldn't fall.

"Close call... Let's go." Mason said, Woods nodded in agreement and lifted Elvira into his arms. By the time they got out of the back door, just as it closed behind them. One of the guards went to check on Elvira, when they saw she wasn't there. The alarm was sounded, and all of the guards were on high alert.

"Close call my ass! Shit Let's go before shit gets even more hectic!" Woods said, the two began to run head first into the forest. The deep snow is what put them off, yet they still had to get to a safe point where none of Perseus' soldiers were around. Luck was on their side today, which was a huge relief so it wasn't much of a problem for the two. Hudson and Adler hearing of the news, they too were happy about it.

The many guards began patrolling the area, trying to find any clues of Elvira's whereabouts and in the outskirts by the Safehouse too. Perseus was immediately informed of the situation, and when he found out that they couldn't successfully recover Elvira Wolff... He wouldn't be too happy about the situation.

"I ask you all to do one thing, just one thing. And you couldn't protect Elvira?!" Perseus raised his voice, as he began to lecture the body guards. He then took a deep breath; He had to think of this clearly, lecturing the bodyguards would do no good. He quickly realized that as well. Staying silent momentarily, a deadly kind of silence too. And soon stared back at the Bodyguards. A simple grin formed under his mustache. "Well then, which one of you is a traitor then?"

Meanwhile in America . . .

Elvira woke up to a bright white light, covering her eyes due to the harsh brightness before her vision got used to the light as she sat up from the bed. Her surroundings were unfamiliar, and all what was around her.

The door opened and stepped in Russell Adler, he had been impatient since she had arrived being unconscious and wanted all answers immediately. Especially when it came to the location of Perseus himself, after a moment of silence he exhaled the smoke from his looks and he looked at her. "How are you feeling?" He finally spoke.

"Russell Adler." Was all Elvira said, maybe some bitterness and cold ice tone to her voice as she stared at him. The man who killed her father.

"Yeah. You probably got my name from Perseus soldiers… Putting things into a child's head is never good." Adler exhaled the smoke from lips. "Come we're gonna go and chat a little somewhere else rather than here.

"And if I refuse?" Elvira glared at him, her weapon was stripped from her. Yet she remembered self defense, but with cameras dotted around left, right and center she couldn't exactly do anything.

"When the whole Cold War is at stake, maybe you should rethink your choices a little … Besides, bad enough for you to keep a mother worried to death. I won't take no for an answer. Let's go." Adler said again.

Elvira stood up from the bed, she complied but that doesn't mean that she'd give the answers to him. No way, not in a million years. Adler led the way to one of the Interrogation rooms; She could easily tell she was in America and not in the mountains of Russia.

Adler opened the door for her, letting walk in first before then closing the door behind him. Making sure it was firmly shut, seeing she helped herself in sitting down he sat on the chair across from her. He didn't like the silence that she had given him, hopefully she won't be stubborn about this. Adler turned on the recording tape, before his bombardment of questions would start.

"So, want to tell me why you ran away from your mum? She's been worried about you this whole time. You must have your reasons I bet" Adler asked Elvira, he was hoping to actually get some answers. He knew she was mature enough so there was no point in talking to her like she’s a child.

"Because I was angry and upset, and that's all you need to know." Elvira kept her reply blunt and short, as he stared at him.

"We got called in for a missing person, which was you. With enough leads, it brought us to this man." Adler pushed the photo towards her. The photo shows Anton Volkov. "Does this man look familiar to you?"

Elvira leaned in to see the photo before then leaning back and looking at Adler shrugging a little. "Nein I haven't got an idea, I haven't seen him before. Doesn't strike a resemblance to anyone I know..." She shook her head.

"This is Anton Volkov, a dangerous man. And he does his operations in Berlin. He was an associate to your father, were you aware of this at all?" Adler began to bombard her with questions.

"Nein, I wasn't aware of this. I was never told about this before. I knew nothing about what my vater had done." Elvira changed her tone of voice to make it seem like she wasn't aware of it at all.

Adler had to change his wording, there was no point in going around back and forth would do no good. He knew that one way or another, she was going to be difficult about this.

"So you knew nothing about what your father had done? Nothing at all?" Adler tried playing dumb, but of course he wasn't stupid. If he had the chance to kill that man again, he would and seeing his mini version of him right then and there made it a bit too nostalgic for him.

"I was secluded from everything like that, so I knew nothing about my vater or what he did. So I don't know why I'm actually here sir." Elvira bluntly replied to him, even being in the same room as Russell Adler made her sick to the core.

"You’re here because you ran away from your mother and her boyfriend. I'm only just doing my job. And to make sure you get back to West Berlin safely." Adler assured her, though still she seems a bit too unhappy about all of this. If only he could understand a teenager's emotions yet the situation she was in it was dire. “You were in a safe house in the mountains of Russia, you were held captive by them. What happened?”

"I overstepped into their territory while I was exploring, that was all nothing bad happened, they brought me in for questioning and that was it. I was planning to get out of there first hand too." Elvira explained the situation to him.

"Hm, well did you see a man by any chance? He goes by ‘Perseus’ A rogue Soviet Agent, this is essential Miss Wolff, anything out of the ordinary will be a massive help to us, and in the long run." Adler was becoming almost desperate into gaining any kind of informationnow, like his bloodhound senses tingling.

"Perseus? Hm, nein can’t say that name sounds familiar to me. I’m sorry that I can’t be of help to you." Elvira was sincere and apologized to him, she made a few good convincing lies. Anything to keep Perseus and the others safe they had done so much for them already, might as well return them the favor.

"Well then that concludes everything… Thank you for your cooperation Miss Wolff." Adler sighed and the recording had ended as he stared back at her, some part telling him that she was straight up lying to him. Or she was just a simple kid who ran away from home; That was just at the wrong place, wrong time either way. At least he got her out of that mess quickly as he did. There was a moment of silence before he stood up from his seat. “Your mother should be arriving soon… I’ll take you over to the waiting room, are you hungry or thirsty?”

“Nein I’m not but I appreciate the offer.” Elvira replied to him, finally getting out of there she followed him down the hall to the waiting room. She didn’t want to go back to Germany again not in a million years, she continued to follow him.

The alarm suddenly went off which Adler took notice of and immediately got his gun out. He gestured to Elvira to follow him quickly, whatever was going on he didn't like the look of it.

"Stay close to me kid, it's important, don't want you ending up in hospital now." Adler said as he tried to get her to a safe location.

Elvira followed him closely, waiting for the right time to strike, or even possibly making a run for it. Smoke began to fill the corridors, she covered her mouth a little.

Stitch was assigned to retrieve Elvira, he walked through the halls and the soldiers split up into searching for Elvira Wolff, he wasn't going to go anywhere until she was found. It wasn't until he heard a voice, and from there he went to investigate.

"Get off of me! I'm not going anywhere! I won't go back home!" Elvira shouted at him, pulling out of Adler's arms and glared at him, this was now or never.

"I'm trying to help you!" Adler said to her, a gun suddenly swung over to his head temporarily knocking him out it was no other than Stitch.

Stitch quickly approached Elvira, grabbing her. Before she could retaliate he held her arms. "Elvira it's me I've come to get you." He said, pulling her away but she stopped.

"Nein, I'm not going anywhere! He killed my vater he needs to die!" Elvira said with anger, trying to get out of Stitch's arm but he had a firm hold of her. She was trying to keep all of her emotions together.

"And you will, I promise." Stitch assured her before successfully getting out of the CIA headquarters with her, and so did the soldiers too.

Adler soon regained consciousness just as the smoke disappeared, Elvira was no longer in his sight. And glass was all over on the floor. "Dammit…" He cursed to himself.

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