#wait what if we made an army of just geese

[moridacted]

had a surprising amount of childhood friends with goose trauma

idk if it's just a canada thing...but do you have goose trauma? or do you know anyone with goose trauma?

[someone-give-me-a-hug]

update timeeee

Ello there guvnor! tis I! Huzzah! 

Yeah i dont know what that was either. hello hello! much better. it has been a little longer than expected to update but i wanted to wait until after my exams finished to give you a reply! 

first of all, i think I've only ever had a tomato once. my grandma gave me one and i felt too bad to say no after absolutely hating it. But hey maybe I’ll try it again! Beans however? well i could live off of beans on toast, which granted aren’t the beans you are probably on about but omg maybe its that British in me but beans on toast is an absolute banger of a meal (and was the first thing to come to mind after Bean Crock, which we eat in the winter, another classic).

To answer your very valid question about the number of exams i had, it was 21. 21 exams :) In all fairness exams sorted out my sleep schedule like a charm. i decided to get up at 6am everyday i had an exam so i could have breakfast and revise the content. which then meant i went to bed earlier (around 23:00) and slept like a log the whole night! the longest exam was 2 hours and 30 minutes. and let me tell you, i made a big fat mistake; i decided to take my friends advice and go through the paper backwards. what an oopsie that was. I ended up forgetting that the outside world even existed during that exam, it felt like lifetime! but honestly, oh well too late to change it now. 

We had a BAV (Beliefs and values) exam (3 actually, catholic christianity, judaism and then philosphy and ethic) becuase it’s required to learn. we needed to use a source of wisdom and authority in most answers and the one i mustve used a hundred times was ‘Love thy neighbour’. I’m also pretty sure I made a few up but hey ho it’s done now. 

It’s officially the summer holidays and school doesn’t start again until September so I’ve got so much time on my hands I have no clue what I’m gonna do! when I go back though I’m doing my Level 3 certifications (A-levels) in history, English lit and philosophy and ethics!

on the note of wildlife, there are so many birds in my garden it’s insane. I’m starting to think they’re building an army to come hunt me down and peck out my brains. although i doubt they eat brains, maybe I’ll have to stuff my pockets with seeds as a sacrifice. Also i had to search up what a bull moose was but oh good heavens THEY ARE HUGE!? I swear i’d literally cosplay Jesus and ascend to heaven if i saw one of them. I love the fact that you get to see wildlife, it’s so cool! I once got chased by a flock of geese and that was scary enough. I think geese talk to each other because they always seem to stare me down. Now listen, I may have a seriously moody resting face but come on! I just want to go about my day and here I am getting glared at by the most viscous bird ever. unfair if you ask me. 

Oh oh oh! about the tumble drier situation, I have been known to lack common sense at times. For example, when i start a task and don’t plan ahead. Imagine I’m baking something and as I wash up i haven't got out a tea- towel to dry my stuff. i will freeze like a moose in headlights (see what i did there? eheh funny). It’s like i have no issue remembering what the emergency quota act did during the red scare in USA history yet if something is missing or new my brain just grows legs and goes on holiday. 

In the words of my grandmother, if brains were made of dynamite i wouldn’t have enough to blow my cap off. 

Random thought I had the other day to finish off: the saying ‘Hold you horses’ comes from literally slowing down a horse. like ‘stop, slow down’ ‘Hold your horses!’. it has taken me an unbelievably long time to realise that. like what else was ti meant to mean?! I’m literally as thick as a plank of wood sometimes. 

Anyway, I hope you are well! I hope everything is good and that you’re good! 

Love ya! Little sib!

[duhragonball]

Hellsing Liveblog, Ch.11-13

This is the “Balance of Power” arc.

One of the things that frustrated me about the Hellsing TV anime (as opposed to the Hellsing Ultimate version) was that the TV series aired while the manga was still running, and it seemed to struggle between following the source material or just diverging into all new stories.    I think if Gonzo had made up their minds one way or the other, it would have ended up a better show.   Instead, there were all these filler scenes of Seras training with human soldiers, which seemed like an utter waste of the character’s time.    Worse, this meant the human soldiers featured much more prominently than they ever did in the manga, where they all get killed off by Chapter 9 or something.   And if you know that’s coming, like I did, it makes the human soldiers that much more insufferable, because you know dorks like Farguson aren’t going to matter, but they get tons of screen time anyway.    Farguson is like every episode of Dragon Ball GT condensed into a single character.  

Here, in the original manga, it’s pretty clear that the soldiers never mattered, because the only time you ever see them is when Jan Valentines’ ghoul army slaughters them all.    They only existed so Integra would have something to be in charge of, but the only ones who actually matter here are herself, Alucard, Seras, and Walter.    In this chapter, Walter practically admits as much, when he states that there were 96 staff members, and now we’re down to ten: Walter, Integra, and eight jabrones who weren’t at the base that day.    Well, maybe those eight guys will show up later and do something important?   Bullshit they will, they never get mentioned again.   The Gonzoverse might have been able to break some new ground by focusing on those human characters more, but what they actually did was half-assed, and it looks all the more futile when you know how unimportant they are to the original work.   Walter just hires a band of mercenaries to backfill all the vacant positions, and I’ll give you three guesses what happens to those guys.

Concerning “Millennium”, their mysterious new enemy, no one has any idea what they are.    A bunch of people try to research it, because we didn’t have Google in 1999, or at least not Google as we now know it, so if you wanted to know something cryptic you just had to rummage through a card catalog in a library or whatever.    But Integra just makes the logical leap that “Millennium” is a reference to the “Thousand Year Reich” dreamed of by Nazi Germany.   This seems like a stretch, but I think Integra’s reasoning is that this is the only “Millennium” reference that could possibly be worth Hellsing’s attention.

Later, Integra meets the Wild Geese, the merc group Walter hired, and explains their assignment even referencing the Bram Stoker novel.    So I guess Dracula is a real book in the Hellsing world, but it must be at least partially based on a true story, right?   The Geese don’t buy any of this, so Integra introduces them to Seras to prove that vampires are real.

They all laugh at Seras until she starts flicking their leader, Pip Bernadotte, with her fingers.    Then Alucard shows up, and that seems to be enough to convince them.

After this, Integra gets a letter from the Iscariot Organization, inviting her to a meeting with Enrico Maxwell at the Imperial War Museum.    The whole thing introduces Bishop Maxwell very effectively.   He tries to play this off as a peaceful, diplomatic conference, but he makes Integra wait, and she’s still sore about Anderson’s violation of their treaty back in Chapter 5-6.   Maxwell takes all this in stride, then replies that he could care less about the deaths of even two billion Protestants, so the two guys Anderson killed mean nothing to him.    He’s only here because the Pope ordered him to do this, and he calls Integra a “Protestant sow” for good measure.  

At this, Alucard comes out to stand up for Integra’s honor, and then Maxwell responds by bringing out Anderson, except Anderson has a berzerker rage thing going, so it kind of ruins Maxwell’s posturing.    For all his contempt, he really was ordered to London to talk to Integra, so he’d probably get in trouble with the Pope if Anderson starts a big superhero battle in a museum.

In Cross Fire, the unpublished manga that was sort of a precursor to Hellsing, Maxwell looked a lot like Sir Integra does now, so when Kouta Hirano brought him back for this arc, he slicked his hair back and removed his glasses.   On the other hand, Integra doesn’t look much like the early Integra anymore either.    By now, Hirano seems to have settled on her design, straightening her hair out and making her face longer and thinner.   Anyway, Maxwell’s brinkmanship has backfired, and now even he can’t stop Anderson, so what can be done?

Luckily, Seras is here to provide a distraction, as she leads a tour group of elderly Japanese tourists through the gallery.    For some reason this kills Anderson’s fighting mood completely, so he leaves.    Alucard also leaves, because he hates being up during the day.    Walter gives Seras a hearty thumbs up for defusing this tense situation.    Good job, Seras.    You’re doing amazing, sweetie.

All right, so what’s so blamed important that the Pope would send Maxwell to London?    Well, he knows about Millennium’s attack on Hellsing’s base, and he has some juicy deets on them.   After making Integra say “please”, he explains that “Millennium” was a Nazi military unit responsible for transferring resources and personnel for Nazi Germany.    They relocated a ton of these resources and personnel to South America for safe keeping.    Integra’s not too impressed with that, since “Nazis fleeing to South America after the war” isn’t exactly a shocking revelation.  

The twist here, though, is that Millennium was smuggling Nazi stuff to South America during World War II. 

Also, the Vatican helped Millennium do this?   I never understood this part of the story, but I think it gets explained later.   I mean, it explains how Maxwell would have this lead to share with Hellsing, but it raises more questions than answers.

  Volume 2 ends with another chapter of Cross Fire, starring Heinkel Wolfe and Yumiko Takagi.    In the first story, they saved hostages from Islamic terrorists.    This one is them recovering stolen church money from radical communists, which I guess could have been a thing in 1998?    It’s basically the same story, though, as they send Yumiko to infiltrate the bad guys, then they slaughter everyone in sight.    Mostly, I want to focus on the part at the end, where Maxwell, the leader of Iscariot, justifies the use of extreme hyper-violence in the name of the Catholic Church.   You sort of get the sense that the Iscariot Organization in Cross Fire was a concept in search of a villain.   the idea of two girl-assassins dressed as a nun and a priest might have had some traction, but Hirano really seems to have had trouble coming up with worthy enemies for them to fight.    But Hellsing brings vampires into the mix, which suits the Iscariots quite nicely.

Back to “Balance of Power”, the third part features Seras training with the Wild Geese in the middle of the night.   For some reason, Seras expects them to shoot targets from over 4km away.   She can do it, but only thanks to the vampiric senses Alucard showed her how to use.    It’s like she doesn’t realize that this is an ability she only has because she’s a vampire or something.   

Indoors, Alucard and Walter discuss the whole Nazi angle.    Al isn’t terribly surprised, because he only knows three who have ever used undead warriors for combat.   

1) Hellsing

2) Himself

3) The Nazis.

He knows #3 is legit, because he and Walter destroyed a Nazi research facility during the war.    Supposedly that contained all their work on the undead, but now that we know Millennium was smuggling important stuff from Nazi Germany to South America, it only makes sense that they’re the ones who devised the Valentines’ ghoul attack.    The bigger point of this scene is to reinforce that Walter used to be a big wheel in Hellsing, teaming up with Alucard to have Golden Age WWII adventures.   And now, Hellsing will be sending Alucard and Seras to South America to investigate this new threat.   

Here, Walter asks the big question: Why make Seras a vampire?   I’ll have more to say about this later, but I dig this scene because it works as an exposition scene, but there’s more to it than that.   Alucard’s only apparent motivations are over-the-top violence and doing his master’s bidding.   Helping Seras doesn’t seem to fit either of those, so it does indeed feel out-of-character.   You’d expect someone to ask this question, and by now there’s really only two people left who know Alucard well: Walter and Integra.   So yeah, let’s have Walter ask the question.    But later on, it becomes clear that the point is not the question itself, but the fact that Walter is the one asking it.  

For what it’s worth, Alucard doesn’t seem to know, or maybe he just doesn’t want to spell it out.   He keeps saying that it was her “choice”, except he had to make his own choice that night.    He could have just let her die, regardless of any requests she might have made.   Al remarks on her tremendous resilience on that night, since she was surrounded by death and hopelessness, but didn’t resign to her fate.    That impresses him, so I guess we can say that he chose her because he found her to be such an impressive specimen, in spite of some of her goofier behavior.    As it currently stands, Seras can’t even travel across rivers or oceans, a weakness for lesser vampires, but not a problem for Alucard himself.    He seems to think that’ll all be resolved once she finally drinks blood, and he expects that it’ll just be a matter of time before she does.    Ominous!

As far as transporting Seras to South America, Alucard figures the easiest thing to do is nail her shut in her own coffin.   The Wild Geese know a smuggling operation that can fly them to Brazil without any messy customs.   That works out, since they also have to transport Alucard’s coffin, and all the guns.

Integra asks why Alucard is dressed like this, and he says he can’t wear his usual stuff because he’d be too obvious to their enemies.    Also, he doesn’t need to spend the whole trip in his coffin, because sunlight and traveling over water doesn’t bother him, I guess?    I don’t really get the water thing.    If Seras can’t travel over running water, what difference does it make if she’s in her coffin or not?    I can accept that Alucard, who’s basically a super-vampire, would be immune to the whole water thing, but it becomes a plot point later on, so... aw, forget it   

Integra gives Alucard only one order: Search and Destroy, which seems kind of vague when you think about it.   Anyway, she’ll be saying this about a hundred times before the story is over, so we may as well appreciate the original.

[rosierocks30]

Hidden: Ch.16

Chapter 16: Deception

(Historia)

It’s been three weeks since Levi tried to take her away from this hell. The only companion she felt safe was with Ymir who somehow was in her subconscious. Historia doesn’t know how it happened, but it helped her get through being Nathaniel’s obedient queen. The blonde woman had started to come out of her chamber to roam some areas of the palace or go to the beautiful gardens whenever she was tired being in her chamber. 

Today, the sun has shined on the west wing side of the garden. It’s one of her favorite gardens from all of them here. This garden has so many wildflowers and ponds with bridges and benches to enjoy. The geese and ducks gathered to swim in the ponds. There are also few swans which she doesn’t know how Nathaniel could afford them, especially the nation has very high national debts it needed to be paid. 

Historia was wearing a light pink dress made of silk with white and red roses as patterns. Her hat was light pink with a big white flower to match. The pearls around her neck were a gift from her “husband”. She hated these pearls and anything, Nathaniel had given her, but Ymir was right. She needed to play her part until it’s the right time to escape. Don’t expect anyone to save you if you want to be saved. So do it for yourself. 

Her blue eyes stared down at a pretty powder blue book made of leather with golden letters for the title. This book was not a storytelling book. It was a dairy; her mother’s dairy. Historia found this book in one of the old studyroom of this palace. Turns out it was her grandfather’s; then it was passed on her uncle then Frieda’s. Probably her older sister found it and hid it somewhere in that room so no one finds it. At first, the queen was reluctant to open the book to read it. Humph. Why should she care about her mother’s life before she existed? She was aware how much her own mother despised her. 

The young queen began to open the dairy and started to read the first page. Her mother was around a couple years younger than her when her father’s wife hired her as a maid. For the first several pages, all it mentioned was how excited she was to work at the palace.  The way she had described inside the palace was familiar how the palace is now. To Historia, her mother was a teenager with dreams of wanting to be part of the upper class’s life. While the queen was reading more into the diary, one of her ladies-in-waiting spoke to get her attention. 

“Your Majesty, the King is waiting for you to have lunch with him at the garden on the east wing.” The lady said. Historia laid the diary on her lap to nod. 

“Very well.” She sighed then gripped the book as the royal woman got up then started to walk to where Nathaniel was. 

By the time she and her ladies reached to the east wing of the palace, Historia entered the garden where Nathaniel was already sitting sipping wine. The servants was serving lunch when the queen spotted them. 

“Ah, my dearest. I’m pleased you’re here to join me for lunch.” Nathaniel glanced up to see his wife coming towards him. 

Historia had her expression neutral as she went to sit on the empty chair. The table was small  and made of marble with glass on top of the surface. She glanced down at the dish being served. Historia gave the servant a small smile to show her appreciation of their dedication to making it look delicious. 

“I was feeling hungry so I decided to come to eat.” She said. One of the servants served wine to her. At first, she was going to reject, but the queen had remembered Nathaniel is here. To get through their lunches, Historia will need something strong to endure this date. 

“It’s good that your appetite has returned. I assume you are getting better from your foolish attempt to escape from a few weeks ago.” He stared at her waiting to see how she would react. 

Of course, Historia wanted to grab the knife in front of her to stab him into his eyes. Her rage was rising up but a familiar voice kept her at bay. 

Hey chill, remember play the goody good Krista in order to gain his trust then strike him. 

Ymir said in her mind which thank the walls Historia was trying to calm herself down. The blonde queen finally stared into his eyes and gave him a smile. This smile was not one of her sweet warm ones. 

“Yes, I had time to think about my actions, husband. For that, I hope you will forgive me. I will do better and remember my place as your queen and beloved wife.” Historia said. 

The blue eyed queen noticed the way Nathaniel gloated at her admitting mistakes. She wanted to throw her wine at him for being an arrogant gullible asshole. Historia slowly sips her wine. 

“This makes me happy to hear.” he smirked. “So, tell me how was your morning? I’m sure you were busy with many duties to manage order in the palace.” 

“It has been a busy morning. I noticed you want to do a charity event ball? May I ask what kind of charity is it, my king?” The way she spoke made her want to gag. It just feels so forced when she said, her king.

She remembered during her mid pregnancy, Historia had considered to give Levi a title. He rejected that offer so many times, but Historia was stubborn not to give up in convincing him to accept it. 

(Flashback) 

 “Levi, I know you don’t like it but can you-” She was interrupted by her husband. 

“No.” He said bluntly. 

She pouted. “My love, you don’t even know what I was going to say.” 

“Whatever it is. The answer is no.” He said stubbornly. 

“Humph. You should have a title.” Historia finished her sentence which Levi raised his brow. 

“You know I don’t care about titles.” His beautiful silver eyes with a hint of blue looked into her. 

“I know, but when that day comes of our marriage and the baby being publicized; the council will make you take a title by their choice. I just brought it up because I want you to pick your own title and not let anyone choose it for you.” She said with concern.  

Levi still stared at her but it softened. He understood what she was trying to say. He leaned to kiss gently on her lips. Oh how she loved his sweet soft lips. His walls dropped from time to time to get where they are now. Levi was not afraid to be soft and gentle with his wife. To Historia, this was happiness. Seeing the man she loves, being his true self around her. There was no mask or anything to separate between him and her. His thumb caressing her soft pink cheek with affectionate. 

“How about the Queen’s heart?” He mumbled. 

Historia grinned when she saw a light blush on his face. “Oh is that a blush I see?” She teased him. 

“Tch, brat.” He said while Historia laid her head on his chest with a victory grin in making the Captain Levi Ackerman blushed. 

(End Flashback)

Historia was trying not to smile so Nathaniel won’t suspect her why she was smiling. Nathaniel took a bite out of a piece of cut fruit. 

“It’s a charity to raise money for security to make sure other nations will think twice in attacking us.” He said. 

“Basically, funding the military?” Historia raised her brow in confusion. 

 Nathaniel placed his eating utensils on the plate. “Yes, but not the ones we used to have. I disband them all to recruit a new army to obey their king. The three regiments had ruled this nation far too long. It’s time for the monarchs like us to retake our divine rights.” 

“I see. Why didn’t you just convert the military’s power to yours instead of disbanding them. We’re on the brink of war with Marley.” She doesn’t know if Nathaniel realized they need their soldiers more than ever which concerned her. 

“I don’t trust them. Don’t worry. Marley is too busy with their own issues. Beside, we have the templar’s support to protect us until our new military is ready.” Nathaniel was so sure of his decisions.

Historia sighed. When she was in power, at least the late Premier Zackely let her have some power in order to help the common people. As long as she doesn’t interfered very delicate decisions. A part of her wanted to have all the power as a ruler should have so she won’t be limited to help others and make life a bit easier for the common people. In her perspective, they are the driving force of the economy. 

Historia stayed quiet as her lips pressed on the rim of her wine glass slowly sipping. The templars were nothing but greedy hypocrites. She wonders if there are prisoners in the dungeon. The queen will make plans to ditch her ladies in waiting to investigate on her own later. 

“If you think this is the best; then nothing can’t go wrong right?” She finally said something. Of course, her words were full of bullshit, but Nathaniel is a gullible man. His ego is too big; it’s suffocating. 

What wonders her the most is that grandmaster. He gives off a cunning backstabbing vibe. She preferred to have Nathaniel in power than a man like Alexander Di Lorenzo. She feels something bad will happen and Historia gotta make an efficient plan to save her people and her loved ones. 

“Of course it does. By the way tonight, I won’t be visiting. Probably not for a few days.” He said. The queen was relieved about this. She doesn’t know if there will be another night of repulsiveness of having him do things only her true husband can make her feel loved and passionate. A faded smirk spread on her lip. She will use those days to explore unwanted areas. 

(Levi) 

He doesn’t know how long he was a prisoner. It’s felt like years for him. Levi was back at the animus to finish the life of his ancestor, Arne Ackerman. The captain waited for the male version of Shitty Glasses to turn on the machine. He took a deep breath as the glass-like hover over his eye view. Levi closed his eyes as the machine made it’s countdown then everything went black again. 

Eldia Empire, 1555

Arne Ackerman was busy helping his father setting the plots of crops on their 10 acres of land. They are almost done as winter solstice will arrive in several months. Arne had grown through the years being raised by two loving parents. Throughout his growing years, Arne had wondered why he never took after neither of his parents in looks or anything. Both of them had lighter hair colors with grays of strands coming out. 

He looked at his father to notice his nose was different than his along his mother’s too. At first, he was curious until one day in the village; Arne was on an errand to buy some minerals for the soils. There were some whispers from old crones near him. They were looking at him as they whispered to each other. Arne rolled his eyes in annoyance. Those old crones are nothing but gossipers. As he paid the man for the special soils, he heard what the gossips were about. 

“Oh my, Hilda’s and Birger’s kid has grown into a fine handsome man. Many village girls gossips how strong and handsome he looks.” the first crone said. 

“Pfft, my granddaughter and her silly friends, that's all they talk about. It gets tiring to hear them squeal.” The second crone scoffed. 

“I’m surprised Hilda was about to have a child; I thought she was barren. The gods had blessed her a fine strong son.” The third crone said. 

“That poor boy is not their blooded child. Hilda is barren. Always has been. They both found him at the slave market and bought him because Hilda couldn’t bear seeing a babe being alone and a slave. So, it’s a win-win for the Ackermans and Arne.” the second crone said. 

Arne couldn’t believe what he had just heard. His parents aren’t his actual parents? He was a slave. An infant slave when they bought him. The young man doesn’t know whether to be angry at. The main question was who his real parents were. Where are they? Are they alive? Did they sell him? These questions were becoming overwhelming for him. 

He didn’t realize his hand was gripping on the edge of the wooden countertop of a stand. His breath was gasping for air while Arne was holding it. His parents had never bothered to tell him of his origin? Maybe there was a reason. 

The dark haired man began to walk away. He was distracted with what the old crones were saying that Arne didn’t realize he bumped into someone else which they both fell on the ground. Arne opened his eyes to see a girl around his age with strawberry blonde hair. When her eyes opened, he could see they were blue like the deep ocean. 

“I’m sorry for not seeing where I am going…” Arne observed the girl to notice she has a teal colored dress with golden embroidery patterns. Her cloak was royal blue. The way she dressed; this girl is a daughter or some high lord or a princess. 

The girl glanced at him then blushed from realizing she’s still on top of him. “Oh dear, I think I should be the one apologizing to you, sir.” The strawberry girl gets up to dust off the dirt on her dress. 

“No my lady, I should have been the one to apologize.” He gets up after she does.

“Good sir, I insist. Take my apology.” Her tone was becoming firm. 

Arne sighed. This woman is a stubborn one. He gave in. “Very well my lady. I accept your apology, but I’m no knight to be called such an honorable title.”  

The high born woman snorted. “Oh please, a man of your status has more what it takes to be a knight than the ones at the castle.” 

The woman glanced properly at Arne to notice his exotic features. “Are you from around here?” She asked curiosity. 

“Yes, I am. I should be asking you the same thing.” He said. 

“I am afraid not. Let’s just say I escape from the chamber of the castle of my betrothed. Honestly, who wants to marry into that Fritz clan. They may be the ruling clan, but they are mad with their god-like persona.” The noble woman said with a cynical tone. 

“My lady, it’s bad luck to speak ill of the royal family. The goddess Ymir and the gods blessed the House of Fritz as our rulers.” Arne was worried for the woman who could have angered the gods for her insults at the royal family. 

“Ymir? She’s no goddess; just a woman who was granted with the power of the Titan. A blessing and a curse. We, Eldian, are cursed for many generations until some fool decides to play god to break this curse.” This woman was peculiar. She was bold to speak her mind. 

Arne couldn’t tell if this woman was completely mad or just knowledgeable. He barely knows how to read and do some counting. His mother was once a servant maiden at the palace during her youth before meeting his father, a simple farmer. She has given the best education she can give. For someone like him, he was educated compared to other farmers’ kids who received no education at all. In a way, he was lucky. 

“Has the gods and the goddess pissed you off?” He asked. 

“In a way, yes. I’m not ready for marriage. I always wanted to explore and learn so many places from the other side of the world. Did you know? There are some female rulers like Mary I of England. I have always wanted to visit Europe. I know I’m not meant to be some prince’s bride or anyone else’s. I was supposed to be the next clan leader, but my cousin took over and offered the king a bride to his heir. The nerve of him.” She stomped her foot on the dirt in frustration.  

Arne doesn’t know why this woman decided to tell him this. A simple apology was all it took for them to go their separate ways. “I’m sorry to hear that.” He said awkwardly. 

The noblewoman noticed how awkward he sounded by her rant. “My apologies, I didn’t mean to lay my burdens on you. By the way, how rude of me for not introducing myself. I’m Lady Ingrid of the Völsung clan. What’s yours, good sir?” 

“I’m Arne Ackerman, son of two humble farmers, Birger and Hilda Ackerman, mi’ lady.” He said. Ingrid stared at him curiously. 

“For a son of a farmer, you are educated from the way you speak.” She said. 

“Yes, my mother Hilda used to work at Fritz's castle when she was a young girl until she met my father. You can say, I’m lucky I was taught the way to speak to nobles and the royal family if I encounter them. Besides, I like learning whenever I have time; I read from the books I borrowed from this village’s bookshop.” Arne’s tone became passionate whenever he mentioned learning or books. His parents praised him for his intelligence. At one point, his mother tried to convince his father to send him to a pedagogue to properly educate him so he can advance his life comfortably. Birger didn’t want to send his son away. Who will maintain this land if Birger Ackerman died? By the law of the Eldia Empire; it’s Arne as the sole living child of the Ackermans. 

Arne was determined to keep the family farm alive with his parents. He was grateful that his father at least allowed him to self-taught whenever he made time. He can understand why his mother was insisting him to become something more than just a farmer. His mother was always dotting him. He may be annoyed sometimes but he does enjoy it nonetheless. 

“Ah I see. You are fortunate, Ackerman. Maybe I can use my position to get you a better occupation? “ She offered her help. 

“I, thank you my lady for your offer, but I must decline. I am humble to be a farmer just like my father.” Arne bows respectfully to Lady Ingrid. 

“Very well. I will respect your decision.” Ingrid gave a small smile. 

Before they leave their separate ways, Ingrid hears a few men with their horses galloping through a busy main road on the village. She turned around to see those guards that were chasing her earlier looking for her. Quickly, she grabbed Arne to run into a random shop. The shop was dark and dainty. The only light it shined was from the hazy window. Both hid as the knight guards passing through the muddy street. Arne could feel the woman’s body pressed too close for his liking. Don’t get him wrong. As a man, he would enjoy it, but this woman was a high born lady. A lowly commoner must respect a high born at all cost plus his mother taught to respect women no matter what status they are. To be honest, he hasn’t ever been with a woman. Most of his time since reaching puberty, he works and reads. It had never considered him courting a decent girl. He did have a crush on a girl who was his neighbor, but she had chosen another for better crops and livestock than his family could offer. 

He remembered how heartbroken he was when Arne came back home and explained that Roslyn had coaxed flirting gestures along another boy who also liked her.  It was also the main reason he lost his best friend. In a way, he was happy for him; but it did hurt his pride. It’s stupid now to let his pride ruin his friendship. Maybe, he’ll stop by their land with a peace offer and have his best friend in his life again. 

“Are they looking for you?” Arne stared at the strawberry blonde haired woman. 

“Yes, looks like they noticed I escaped. Some of them are part of my clan.” She growled in irritation. 

“You are very committed to not marry the royal heir.” His steeled eyes looked over the window

“I rather died than marrying that incompetent imbecile boy. I am a Völsung. I will not have my bloodline tainted with an idiot who prefer to suckle his mother’s tits than grow bloody balls.” Ingrid continued. 

“I see you have colorful vocabularies for a beauty maiden such as yourself.” Arne let a smirk appear on his lips from being amused the way she ranted about Prince Adelrick of the Fritz clan, heir to the Eldia Empire. 

Ingrid blushed from his compliment and the way she used foul words. It’s not that a lady likes to use improper words, but she was never your average high born maiden. So he labels her as beautiful? In her world of high born, most men saw her as a wild maiden that hasn’t been tamed yet. Being a Völsung, she was trained to fight and be in shape as she was supposed to inherit the Attack Titan, but her cousin took it. Her clan was the only one who still allowed their females to train like warriors. Most of the clans became soft and weak. All they worried about was how to appear like an ideal maiden or lord to woo them away and live happily ever after like the Grimm brothers’ fairytale book she was read to as a child. That’s why her clan was in charge of holding the Attack Titan. Most males were born into her bloodline until her existence. Her mother died giving birth to her and her father didn’t take another wife since he had mourned and loved her mother. She had admired her father’s loyalty to her mother. Their love story was poetic to tell.  

“Yes well, if you were forced to marry some royal cunt. You would probably be colorful with your words too.” Ingrid held her chin up as her pride began to take over. 

“I guess I would.” He chuckled humorly. “It makes you look human than some godly being a peasant like me should have been worshipping.” His dark humor came out. 

“I never see myself as some divine maiden. Just like you, I’m a human that’s capable of making errors or has flaws.” She glanced through the window again.  

“Good to know.” He glanced at the window too. 

“I think it’s safe. I guess I should take my leave. Thank you for your company, Arne.” She stepped away from him which Arne felt relieved. If she had stayed closer to his body more, let just say his little friend would have woken up. 

“It’s my pleasure, my lady.” He said. 

“Ingrid. You may call me Ingrid since we are becoming familiar with one of another.” She said. 

“That seems improper for a commoner like me to call your name.” Arne said while blushing a bit. In their society, you get to call someone their first name if you are close like friends, families, or lovers. Like in their situation, people will talk and assume their lovers. Ingrid is definitely a bold wild beauty. She’s like a she-wolf. Untamed, wild, and strong. He doesn’t find women like her these days.  

“It never bothers me on what’s proper or improper. I insist. We can call each other by names. I think we are way passed being acquaintances. Beside you seem a very intriguing person to befriend.” She smirked at him.  

“Hm, very well. As long in public, we still use the proper etiquette for your sake, Ingrid. People are gossipers. We don’t want them thinking the wrong idea.” He awkwardly laughs at the thought of seeing her potential crush. Oh by the gods, he can’t already be attractive to her. She’s beautiful and tough, but seeing him as her equal. 

“What kind of wrong idea? That we are secret lovers?” She teased him to make his face flushed noticeably. 

“Yes, they will think that since we are talking too comfortably. Besides, you’re not my type.” He is trying to play cool. 

Ingrid raised her brow at him. “Not your type? Am I not a beauty as you had put it that way earlier?” 

“I- you may be beautiful, but it takes more than just beauty to have my attention…” Arne coughed as he faced away from the embarrassing position he’s in. Seriously, does this woman have no shame in being too bold. She is lucky it's him and not some other man who would have taken advantage of her. He just doesn’t want to have his heart given away too easily. He had learnt his lesson. 

“Oh I see? You are not like other men I have encountered. Most just want a pretty damsel in distress for a bride. The only reason men wanted me as their bride is because it will boost their ego for being known to tame a Völsung woman into a demure lady-like maiden. So what are your types?” She grinned. “Come, you can tell me on the way to your family farm.” 

“Wait what? Why do you want to go to my family farm? Should you be at least going back to your clan? I can’t promise you my family and I will give you the life of your status.” He was confused about her wanting to go to his home.  

“I can’t go back there. My Lord cousin will send me back to that awful place to be tied down until the wedding ceremony is complete. I am not expecting a royal treatment if that’s what concerns you.” Ingrid tried to convince him. 

“What will you do or go after your stay with my family?” He said. A part of him was concerned for her well being. She won’t last long wandering alone. There are slave traders out there who kidnaps women to be sold into brothels or some disturbing masters. He is admired for her bold and brave persona but this is the real world. She will regret running away from her wedding to have freedom that she might lose to a horrible fate. 

“Um, I’ll probably sell this gown and my jewels to use the money to travel away from this Empire and see the rest of the world.” Her tone was optimistic, but to him it was a naïve idea. 

“I see. For now, my family and I will offer hospitality until you are certain you want to travel out of the world.” He said feeling more worried. Why show he be worried for her? She had made her decision on where to go. Also, he just met her. 

Ingrid had noticed the way he asked questions like a worrying parent. To be honest, she felt flatter that her cheeks were getting warm. The noble woman had dreamt to travel and learn the world. Maybe if she convinced him to come join to travel the world then it won’t be a ridiculous plan as it sounds. Yes, she may be trained to defend herself but there will be tricksters to find a way to harm her or sell her. 

“Very well. Let’s see how it goes. It’s better than going back so, let’s head to your home, Arne.” She smiled then grabbed his arm to link around hers and dragged him away to the main road that leads to the Ackerman’s farm. 

It took a couple of hours to get to the 10 acres property of the Ackermans. Ingrid was amazed how neatly their crops were aligned. The hens and their chicks roaming around freely in the grassy area of the land. The place looks homey and inviting which is a different scenery than she was used to. Arne opened the little gate that he built to make it nice and aesthetic for the house. He had painted white the wooden fence around the property when he was a boy. Around the area, his neighbors hired him to do the same, which that’s how he earned enough money to buy materials to self-teach education.  

“This home looks very innovative. Did your father have some knowledge in architecture or any engineering talents?” Ingrid noticed how the house was so symmetrical that it looks like an experienced engineer had done it.  

He chuckled. “No, it was me who had fixed a little bit the house then added the fences.” 

“That’s amazing. You have very talented hands! Sometimes I read books on engineering and mathematics to learn the most efficient structure to lead a modern era.” The way her tone sounded was excitement and admiration for his work. 

“Um thank you, my- Ingrid. I mean yes, thank you. Ingrid.” Seriously, he’s just making this worse for him being a fool in front of her. She grinned then nudged his side playfully. 

“It’s not a problem, lover.” She smirked. 

Arne mumbled. “Oi woman, I don’t want my parents to get the wrong idea about thinking I brought a potential wife.” 

“Humph, isn’t that a good thing? You are a man of age that should be married with children by now.” She said. 

This made Arne glanced at her with his dark brow raised up. “I should say the same thing about you, Ingrid.” 

“Ok, I had that coming, but if you should know; I would have made a wonderful wife. If I choose to settle down in the near future.” Arne trying hard not to snort into laughter. Will she last to be the wife of a farmer like him? It does sound nice to have a headstrong woman with intelligence like her as his wife. No, what are you doing? Get rid of these nonsense ideas. She is a high born, and you're a low born with no true identity. Arne still remembered the gossips of the old cronies earlier about his unknown origin. Later, he will bring this up with his parents.  

“Probably to a noble or a king.” He said with a neutral tone. Ingrid noticed his tone changed as she frowned. He was being flirty in his own way for a few seconds. Maybe he doesn’t really see her that way. Don’t worry, the high born maiden was known to be stubborn and determined. She never gave her attention to any man until she met Arne. 

The way he looked was different from most average Eldian men in the empire. Something in him does give off any Eldian traits. Is he connected to the curse like the rest of them? It doesn’t matter, she got some time to get to know him well enough. They were already by the front door of the house and Arne opened the door for both of them to enter.

“Mother, father. I have returned home.” He shouted for his parents to hear his arrival. It was not that long his mother walked in fast pace to greet her son, but was surprised to see Ingrid with him. Instantly, Hilda courtesy into a bow as she once did when she had worked at the palace as a girl. 

“Oh my. My lady. This is a surprise to have  Lady Ingrid of the Völsung clan in my home. The gods have blessed my family to have such a lovely lady as you in our presence.” Hilda was still bowing.

“Please, you don’t need to bow. I’m honored to be here. Your son has said so many wonderful things to both of you.” Ingrid smiled humbly at Hilda. 

Hilda slowly rose to stand to glance at the noble woman. “Arne be a gentleman to take off her cloak and hand up.” The older woman gave a look to her son which he knows too well when he doesn’t do something right but doesn’t want to humiliate him in front of a noble. 

Arne nodded to obey his mother and removed Ingrid her cloak to place it on a hanger on the wall. Ingrid let’s him then thanked him. Both of them had another blushing moment from being in too close contact to each other. The Lady Völsung felt his fingers brushing her shoulders as he slowly removed her royal blue cloak. She hopes his mother doesn’t catch on her expression and questions both of them. They don’t have anything to hide since they just met but to others it won’t stop them assuming more. 

“Please do come in. Follow me, we’re about to eat supper.” Hilda smiled politely as she led both her son and Lady Ingrid to the kitchen. 

Once they reached the kitchen, both Ingrid and Arne sat down as Hilda began to serve their meal. Not too long, Birger walked in to see everyone at the table. 

“My lady, welcome to our home. I’m sorry I was not aware you would join us for supper.” He glanced at his wife then his son. 

“Please, don’t bow. I’m just here as a guest since your kind son had invited me here.” Ingrid glanced at Arne then back to Birger. 

“Ah, then please make yourself at home. We, Ackermans, offer our food, shelter and a place to rest whenever you need.” Birger said with warmth.  

“Thank you. I will take on your offer, Farmer Ackerman.” She smiled.

“Shall we begin to eat.” He chuckled as he sat down and looked at his meal already served. 

The Ackermans and Ingrid enjoying the meal that Hilda had prepared for supper. The pot sew was just right in taste. The broth was flavorful with a rich texture of local spice. The vegetables were cut into bite size chunks to enjoy eating along the goat meat from early morning killing. Even the bread was warm and freshly baked as Ingrid grabbed a bread roll. Hilda Ackerman is a very skilled cook. She probably learnt some of the tips during her time working at the castle in her youth.    

“This stew tastes amazing. I never had this tasty stew like this before. You are very talented.” Ingrid looked up to praise Hilda for the tasty meal. Of course, the older woman blushed from being praised by Lady Ingrid. 

“Thank you. Your words mean so much to me. I used to work at the Fritz castle when I was a young girl. I had the opportunity to learn how to master cooking whenever my mistress let me have my breaks.” Hilda said. 

“Oh? What did you do there? Arne had mentioned you used to work there.” This made both parents glance at each other.  

They are a bit concerned for their son and Ingrid after all they are curious how both Arne and Ingrid had met? Hilda had noticed Ingrid’s outfit looked more extravagant for a casual stroll outside of the castle. The older woman figured Lady Völsung was dressed to be wed. She had heard news a few days ago that both the heir and Lady Ingrid were to be wed soon. 

“I was once the head handmaiden to the King’s mistress, Lady Astrid of the Krüger clan. She always had been a picky eater so I was put in charge of making her meals when She had tried one of my dishes I made for lunch.” Hilda said. 

“You used to know Lady Astrid?! She’s a kin on my mother’s side. I believe they were first cousins since both their fathers were brothers.” Ingrid said. 

“Oh you must be Lady Hella’s daughter? Lady Astrid had always said something good about your mother. They were dearest friends.” Both women began to talk more about the Krüger cousins.

Birger decided to interrupt them to ask both Arne and Ingrid. “Pardon to be bold, my lady. We’re curious how my son met you? He usually tells us or acts obvious when he fancies a maiden.” Arne couldn't believe his father was embarrassing him in front of Ingrid. Later, the damned woman will tease him about this. 

“Oh we just met today at the village close to here. I accidentally ran into him. I ran away from...my wedding.” Her face flushed from the embarrassment that a maiden of her age ran away like a child just because she doesn’t like her betrothed. 

“Ah I see. Do you plan on going back?” Birger carefully chooses his words. He believed it would be best to have the noblewoman go back to be wedded. It would cause less problems for his family. The older man does find Lady Ingrid compassionate, but having her here would bring danger to his family. His family was his main priority. 

“No….but I understand me being here will bring your family trouble. So, I’m planning to leave this place to explore the world.” She said. 

“My lady, would it be dangerous for you to be out by yourself? Husband, we can’t let her go out there alone in the world.” Hilda frowned while looking at her husband to plead him to help the lady. 

“Hilda.” He scolded his wife. Hilda became quiet. Meanwhile, Arne was contemplating whether to advocate Ingrid for her to stay. 

“My lady, please don’t take this too personally. I am honored for your presence here, but you are putting us in danger. I need to do what it takes to protect my family, so you are welcome here until tomorrow morning. We’ll give you a bed for you to sleep. Please understand that.” He said. 

“No, father. She can’t leave. I’m sorry….mother and father for our lie to you how we met.” Arne pushed his chair back to stand up firmly. He doesn’t know why he’s helping her out but, Arne rather she’s staying hidden here than being thrown out alone. 

“What is the meaning of your outburst, son?” Birger was a bit shaken for his son’s action. He rarely spoke out like this towards him, his father. Ingrid was confused but held a curious express to watch Arne protesting for her. 

“I can’t allow you to kick her out. I….we had been seeing each other for a while.  I convinced her to run away with me so we can be married instead of marrying with the prince.” He said it. He can’t believe he’s digging his grave further. 

Arne gently grabbed her hand. Ingrid blushed from what he had just said. This man is an idiot. She thought to herself. She understood he was trying to help her out, but not like this. Oh dear, now they will believe they’re forbidden lovers that are ready to run away together. Of course, both parents were a bit overwhelmed. 

“Arne! Do you have a death wish? If anyone figures out you were with Lady Ingrid out in the public, they will send you to the dungeon cells. The worst case scenario, you could have been executed for having an affair with a higher born much less the heir’s bride.” Arne’s father was upset at his son’s reckless action. Things would have been ok if it was some low born girl, but this one will cause serious problems for the family.  

“I understand father. But you can’t help it if you’re in love, right?” Arne glanced at his father. 

Ingrid was biting her lips carefully. She was nervous. Her guilt consumed her. Here she is being selfish again for wanting to have the freedom she craves and not thinking of the action she had placed on Arne and his family. They have not done anything wrong. The Ackermans are a nice and kind-hearted family. She should say something and diffuse the argument.  

“I understand how much both of you are in love, but this isn’t some children’s fairytale where love will conquer all. It takes more for a marriage to work without resenting each other for the rest of your lives until death comes to the door. Give us another reason why we shouldn’t send her to the guards to take her back to the castle?” Birger said with an authoritative tone. 

“Husband please. At least we can be sent to a neutral area like the temples of the gods. We can help her go to the three goddesses' temples. They protect maiden no matter what.” Again, Hilda pleaded. She doesn’t want anything bad to happen to Lady Ingrid or her family. 

“I have a reason. Lady Ingrid and I got… carry away and it’s possible she’s carrying my child.” Why does his honor have to get him into trouble. He would feel guilty for letting her go where she could danger herself so this is the plan he had quickly thought of. His grey eyes glimpse to see how red the girl’s face was. Oh he can understand how this is embarrassing for him as much as it is for her too. Now, it would be a good time for her being her playful bold self. 

“Isn’t that right my love?” Arne caressed his thumb on to her hand like a true lover would do. Ingrid was trying so hard to speak but her throat was tight. The way his thumb caressing her hand made her stomach flutter. Why does he have to act a knight in shining armor? 

“Y-yes, my heart’s warrior. I love your son. I’m sorry for the problems I have caused. He has been nothing but kind and gentle. You are both blessed with a son who treats me as an equal. I am blessed to have met him.” Ingrid steps away from Arne’s gentle gesture to get on her knees. The elder Ackermans’ eyes widened to see the noblewoman was on her knee to bow her head. She was asking for their blessing for their marriage. They don’t know what to think. 

“Please, accept me as your daughter in law. I shall honor to be a better wife for your son and learn the life of farming. I prefer this fate then being some mare to breed royal heirs instead of being seen as a person. I beg of you, give us your blessing.” Who would've thought she was a good actress? Arne for a moment was convinced she wanted to marry him. He doesn’t mind being married since it will get the ladies off his back and he can be at peace. If for some reason they do actually get married, all he will see a friendship. He knows Ingrid will not be into him. She can be bold but she was a playful person who liked jester things. Once he saw her on her knees to bow to his parents, he followed her to do what she did. 

“ Please mother and father bless us. Once we get married, we’ll go to some far away village to be hidden and one day we'll visit you.” He said. 

Birger and Hilda glanced at each other rather than contemplating from their pleads. Finally, Birger broke the silence. 

“As the damage was already done, both of you will wed. My lady it’s best you go under a different name to protect your identity. I know someone who lives on the edge of our great empire, in Kahr. It’s a city-states that’s connected to the port if both must flee from danger.” Birger sighed. They have to do this as soon as possible before they all get caught. 

Both “couples” nodded in accepting the terms. After supper, Ingrid was led to a room to rest  for the night. Arne gave her some spare clothes from his mother when she was young. 

“Here, these were my mother’s clothes. You might need to change to not be noticed.” He said. Before he was about to leave, Ingrid stopped him. 

“Arne, why did you tell your parents that we’re lovers? I’m flatter for trying to protect me but you are a fool. I can handle it on my own.” She said. The noblewoman wanted to know why he did? He doesn’t owe her anything. If everyone knew the truth, their reputation would tarnish. Arne will have it the worst since he’s a commoner. Knowing how their society was, they’ll make it seem he had kidnapped her and forced her to be with him which it was not true. 

“Because I hate to be the reason you get into danger. I know you can handle it, but that would stop the worst men from taking advantage of you. If this is the way for you to stay alive and free then I will do it. As your friend, I want to help.” He said with honesty. 

Ingrid couldn’t help to blush from his words. She took a breath to calm herself. “I see. I’m grateful for your selfless act, Ackerman.” She is trying to be aloof. 

“Oh we're back to surnames, Völsung?” He chuckled then smirked. 

The noblewoman rolled her eyes. “So, are you sure you’re ok with this...us being in a marriage?” She wondered if he wouldn't bother to have a wife like her. Ingrid had always felt she never had met the standards how a proper wife should be. 

“Yes, as I said. I don’t mind. You are someone I would have as a wife even if it’s not love.” He said. 

“I’m a high born lady. Love is a luxury for those who don't have a choice to choose to be with someone.” Ingrid said. 

“But I suppose I am lucky since I made my choice to pick how I want to live. I prefer marrying you who can offer companionship, mutual respect and honorable value than a royal cunt who only desires to tame me as I'm some wild beast. I just knew, I would be miserable if I chose death.” Arne sat on the bed which Ingrid does the same. 

“Even though we just met, I have already felt comfortable around you, Ingrid. I wish I could offer you what you deserve.” Arne had his body faced towards her. 

“You already have. I really don’t care about wealth and status. Yes, I grew up being comfortable as a noble lady, but it has been stressful. I had to try to be the ideal lady and if I showed the real me, oh it would be a scandal that I will get an earful from my cousin. I know you think this is just a game and excitement until reality hits me. I’m a committed person. So, I’m hundred percent sure of this.” She clarified him. 

“Alright, as long you know what you are getting yourself into.” Arne whispered. Now, both of them became silent and felt the awkwardness as they realized they’re in the room alone. 

“So...if your parents believed we might excepting then looks like we’ll have to make that into a reality?” She smirked, giving her playfully. 

Arne grumbled while his face flushed red from that thought that soon he will lay with her as husband and wife. He wondered what their children would look like? He hopes they inherit her spirit-free personality and optimism. If the gods bless them for that is. 

“Woman, are you that eager to have me in your bed?” He gets back at her by being playfully too. 

“I mean in a way I already did since you are sitting next to me on the bed.” She continued. Deep down her heart pounding hard from thinking they will consummate after marriage which what the elder Ackerman couples said tomorrow will be the ceremony. Birger and Hilda already make preparations since they wanted to do as soon as possible for this family’s safety. 

“You’re right. As the groom, I shouldn’t be this close to my bride.” Arne didn’t know what occurred to him in being very intimately close to her. He leaned his body where her body felt warm even though their bodies weren't in contact. 

Ingrid felt her breath become shallow when he got closer. Her blue eyes stared into grey eyes of his. It felt as the room was spinning then stopped with silence. The strawberry blonde haired woman had never been this close toward a man. Heck, not even with her betroth. The prince did try but all he got was his manhood being kneed for not respecting her boundaries. With Arne, it’s different. He was different. This man had made her heart beat like drums. She was conflicted about whether to try to go for it. Their lips are a few centimeters apart. She could feel his breath on her skin. This is what she gets for being a tease. Now, curiosity has won. She wanted to feel his lips. 

“What are you waiting for? Kiss your bride.” She said breathlessly. 

Arne should have not gonna close. Ingrid is a beautiful woman. Any man should be lucky to have a fiery spirit girl like her as a wife. He wanted to keep his boundary away from her due to their status difference. Ingrid is like the forbidden fruit he had become tempted. Just as she gave her signal to do it. The dark haired man pressed his lips onto hers. Just as he expected, her lips were warm and soft. Their kiss was gently passionate. There was no rush or intense hunger yet. 

Finally they broke away to gasp for air. They stared at each other until Arne coughed and looked away shyly. 

“You’re not a bad kisser.” Ingrid said while trying not to blush at their kiss. 

“Oh really? You’re not bad either.” He smiled. 

Both realize how late it is and Arne gets up to leave her be. He walked out of the room while thinking of how sweet like honey her lips taste. He wondered if Ingrid felt a spark from their kiss? 

The following morning, the Ackerman’s farm was busy with some villagers helping out the Ackermans for a last minute wedding. Ingrid was wearing a white simple gown. Her hair was loose with curls and on top of her head was a crown of flowers. 

She looked like a villager bride and she preferred that way. Besides, Ingrid felt comfortable without wearing a corset and heavy fabrics with jewels. It’s too much for her. The bride took a deep breath then heard a knock on the door. 

“Come in.” She said. As the door opened, Hilda entered the room then gasped into admiring the bride's beauty. 

“My lady, you look like a goddess.” The older woman smiled. 

“Hilda, you can’t no longer call me my lady. Soon, I will be your daughter.” Ingrid glanced at the older woman. 

“Then you must call me mother. We are going to be family.” Her smile hasn’t left. Hilda hugged the young bride. 

“Let’s go. They are waiting for you.” Hilda arm linked Ingrid and both ladies walked out to where the wedding will be located. 

Levi…wake up… 

Huh? Is it over? Wait a second, why is that apeshit here? The male Ackerman opened his eyes to see Zeke Jaeger. His eyes glowed silver as he glared at the blonde man who has a smug face on his face. The captain wanted to bash his hairy face to the wall. Just seeing him, making Levi crave to release his violent tendencies.  

“Good, you are awake. Don’t worry. We’re not done yet. I want to know what did your little armies and assassins kept my little brother, Eren? I had rumors he was taken by your rebels. I suggest you tell me what you know or this time you will be the one without arms and legs. I heard an Ackerman can regenerate like a titan shifter but at a slower pace than a shifter.” Zeke glared back at Levi. 

“I do not know or care about your kin, you weakling.” Iapetus took over Levi when Zeke appeared. The titan can smell the shifter’s fear as Zeke tries to mask it. Tch. Such a coward. Soon, he’ll regain his strength to claw his hand into Zeke to tear him into pieces where the room will be painted with guts and blood of the infamous Zeke Jaeger. Both Levi and Iapetus had enough with Zeke’s and his followers’ bullshit. 

“You better be careful with your words, monster. You don’t want nothing to happen to your whore and bastard son of yours.” Zeke threatens him.  

Instinctively, Iapetus growled at Zeke. How did this piece of shit find out about Atticus being alive? 

“Oh, Historia was sneaky for acting like a grieving mother losing her child. I’m impressed by her cunning ability to fool everyone. Once I tell the king and the grandmaster, they will send someone to assassinate your infant son along your subordinate, Sasha Braus. So, start talking, devil. Where is Eren Jaeger?” Zeke said. 

Levi/Iapetus were panicking for their mate/wife and son. Both host and titan are feeling useless being cuffed on the table. Zeke better not take away his family. He had already taken away his comrades along his late commander, Erwin Smith. 

“What do I know? If you haven't notice, I have been on this fucking table for days! I thought you would be smarter than that. Tch, figures being the Beast Titan holder had shrunk your capacity of being intellectual. I don’t even know where that shitty brat? Problem fucking some girl before he goes commit a geocide or something.” Levi regains his control. He spewed insults at his enemy. What Ackerman doesn't know is how accurate he is about what Eren had been doing.

Zeke scoffed in annoyance. “Like my little brother is capable of wasting time for such nonsense. He is determined to follow the path that Ymir opens the doors for him to save the Eldians from doom fate.” 

“You are seriously stupid. Eren is a fucking hot blooded brat. You forget how he confessed his love towards my wife.” He remembered when the Jaegerists kidnapped Historia. Eren went crazy shit that day and kissed his wife. Levi literally wanted to slice him, but his focus was recusing Historia. “I won’t be surprised that he would be sticking his cock into some poor girl and accidentally knocked her up.” 

Zeke didn’t take it well as he punched Levi out of anger. The assassin just laughed darkly. Historia punches better than Zeke’s. How fucking adorable that his punches will cause him damage? Once another punch came towards Levi, he quickly bit Zeke’s wrist to lock his jaw deep into the blonde man’s flesh. Iapetus slowly switched to take over and rip off his enemy’s hand. All you can hear the screams in agony pain. “Try to punch me and your other hand will rip off, weakling.” Zeke whimpered from pain and fear. He glanced at how monstrous Levi looked. So, this is the true power of the Ackermans. They are the real devils in this world. 

(Natasha/Eve) 

It was now night. Natasha slept on the tent that Eren made. He slept outside since Rico and Nile prohibit especially them from not sharing a tent together. Damn that Rico. She probably told the other commander. That’s embarrassing and what’s worse; Rick had been avoiding her when the camp found out Eren and Eve had a little getaway in the deep forest. SHe felt guilty for hurting the garrison soldier. Yeah, she’s a fucked up for using people. The woman from the future wanted to go apologize to him for misleading him and hurting his feelings. Turns out, he thought she was kind, compassionate and innocent. Of course, Natasha is capable of being compassionate, but most of the time she manipulates to get what she wants or needs. She lied to those that care about her for right or wrong reasons. She twists people’s words when they push her limit. Most of the time. She hadn’t felt any regret for her actions. Until the sex scandal happen. In a way, karma was a bitch and she does deserve it. Maybe if she acted like a human being, she would not disappoint her family and have arguments with them every time she visits them.   

The brown haired woman felt tears slipped out of her eyes from reflecting that she was the problem every time she argued with her grandparents. The American missed them. She remembered at one point there were so many fond memories spending time with her father’s side family. Her best friend and aunt, Kuchel, had always stuck by her. They are practical around the same age. Her grandmother, Historia, had taught her how to cook Eldian cuisines. Her grandpa Levi had bonded in silence as they sip fresh brew tea. She prefers green tea or lavender but sometimes black tea is alright. 

The heiress closed her eyes to try to sleep. She fell asleep. Her eyes open to see green grass all over the ground. There were some wildflowers. Along her view, a huge lone tree stands big and tall. The branches stretched out with leaves all over each branch. The woman was confused about where this place was. 

She noticed pathways were made to connect to the tree. Eve walked to the tree. As she got there, a little girl was sitting on one of the thick roots. The little girl had platinum blonde hair, fair skin, a misery expression. She couldn’t identify the eyes because of the bangs covering them. 

The girl looked up to stare at her. Eve felt uncertain and cautious. The girl may come off innocent but you never know what that girl is truly capable of. 

“I see that you’re Eve. What a strange name for a descendant of mine to have?” The girl spoke. 

“How do you know who I am?” This startle Eve. She looked around in an attempt to figure out where she was.

“Because as your ancestress, I know everything about my bloodline. You are a very interesting woman. I misunderstood you. You and Eren are one in the same, but yet so different. I envy you. You felt alone as no one understood you. You crave to belong. Your family slowly leaves you in many ways like death, and different mindsets.”  the girl said. 

“Hm, so you’re Ymir Fritz. Are you sure you’re talking about yourself? You had issues wanting to belong with someone as a daughter, sister, mother, aunt, cousin, niece, or wife. I think instead of being noisy with your descendants you should focus on your yearning belonging with anyone.”  Natasha was getting annoyed. What does Ymir want anyways.

“Your attitude is terrible.” Ymir said. “The reason why I contact you because there is another way to save our people without causing imbalance to the world by eradicating the rest of the human population. With your inhuman intelligence, you can create a cure. For Eldians become immune to the curse.” 

This has Natasha’s attention. “What do you mean? So, it’s possible to find a cure?” 

“Of course, the origin of how I receive it was not hundred percent true. I did make a deal with the devil, but it was an Isu. A race that was responsible for creating humans. I’m sure you know what I’m referring to. His infamous name was Lucifer. He saw a poor slave girl who he felt pity for and helped to grant a gift. A special apple that was modified to give you strength, fear, and power. I took it and ate it. Now, I curse as this power is like a disease that spreads the Eldian race if they indigested my fluid. From throughout time, Marleyans studied some Eldians who reside there and extract their DNA to make pure but weak Titans. It was never meant to become out of control like this. I didn’t know I would be responsible for the pain of my people. All because I was a selfish little girl wanting to belong with someone. So, you are right. I should be focusing on that but it’s too late. I am tired of a two thousand years old conflict. I trust you that you’ll find a curse and stop this curse before it gets much worse.” Ymir pleaded. 

“How will I find a curse? I need time and resources to figure out where Lucifer is if he is still alive. Hell, I need a sample of that apple but you ate it.” Natasha felt frustrated with this new responsibility she was given.  

“Child, you are a Stark. If your late grandfather could discover a new element and solve it to make time travel, I know you will find the cure to break this curse. About the apple, I have not finished it, it’s still out there hidden. You’ll find old scrolls that will lead to the current location of the bitten Devil’s apple.” Ymir explained. 

“Great, I have to go be like Lara Croft from Tomb Raider to be able to pull off finding the apple.”  Eve sighed. 

“Fine, I will do it, but what about Eren Should he know about this too?” The woman said curiously. 

“Eren will know eventually. Right now, he has his own destiny to fulfill. Just make sure he does not activate the Rumbling at all cost. If you must kill him, do it. He may not be planning to know, but in the future he will activate.” Ymir said. 

The thought of killing Eren made her stomach turn. She doesn’t know if she can do it. How could she do it? She loves Eren so much. It hurts from thinking one day it will come to that. She can understand why your great aunt Mikasa took her how she once struggled to be an obedient soldier whenever Eren was hurt or in danger when both were young. Her great aunt had loved him too, but he had never returned her feelings. Maybe Eve was the reason for Eren not loving Mikasa? She doesn’t know. 

“This is asking too much. I can’t kill the man I love…” Her tears form then falls from her steel colored eyes. 

“You will. It’s because you love him that motivates you to give him peace. You will understand when the time comes. There’s one more time I need to mention.” Ymir glanced at her descendant. 

“What is it?” She sniffled from crying. Her hand wiping her tears away.

“Don’t risk yourself, especially if you're in a vulnerable state.” Ymir said in a cautious tone. 

Natasha gave a confusing expression to her ancestor. “Why? I don’t get what you’re saying?” 

Ymir steps closer to her and places her cool hand on Natasha’s stomach. “You're barely still in your first trimester. Your daughter is growing strong like both her parents.” 

The heiress’s eyes widened. She’s pregnant? She’s carrying Eren’s kid. Shit, this is what happens when your boyfriend is too irresistible to keep her hands to herself. 

“No, no. How can I be? I don’t feel any symptoms besides my period should come in a few days.” The American was in denial. 

“Child, you are pregnant just only three weeks. I do want to give you a warning so you would miscarry since you’re a reckless person. Now, you must go back to your world. I will contact you next time.” Ymir disappeared

Natasha woke up with a gasp. It was dark still and cold. She felt warmth close to her. The dark hair woman turned around to see that Eren was asleep peacefully. His arm wrapped around her waist tightly, but not too tight. She took a deep breath then placed her hand on her stomach. Oh god, she hopes Ymir is wrong. A part of her knows it is possible since both Eren and Natasha can get carried away most of the time. They are both passionate people. If she is pregnant, how will she tell Eren about it? She also worried what the Jaegerists that both Eren and his older brother, Zeke had created will do to her and her child. She doesn’t want how her mother and infant brother end up. The Jaegerists were responsible for both of their deaths. The woman doesn’t know the connection they have with her father’s death. She still wants to take her revenge on these extremists. One day, she will succeed. Mark her words. They will be begging for mercy. 

A/N: Finally, done with this chapter. I’m so sorry this took two weeks to finish this. Here’s chapter 16. Enjoy, my loves <3

[no-drama-llama90]

COMPROMISE - Steve Rogers x Reader Imagine

So this is a Fic I actually wrote a little while ago on my old blog. As its one of my favourite MCU Fics that I’ve written I thought I’d repost it here!!!

Author: @no-drama-llama90​

WC: 4674

Relationship: Steve Rogers x Reader, Tony Stark!Best Friend x Reader

Summary: Just Fluff and Cuteness mostly. Mentions of PTSD and trauma. Set at the start of Civil War. What should have happened!!! gif credit

I was laying on my stomach sprawled across my bed, flipping through a magazine, using air to lift the pages with a simple flick of my fingers, when a low chuckle made me look up.

“You know that is super lazy… I approve!”

My face split into a large grin as I spotted my best friend in the entire world nonchalantly leaning against my doorway. I gave an excited squeal, leaping off of my bed and hurtling towards him, wrapping my arms around his neck as he laughed and spun me around.

“Tony, what are you doing here?” I leant back and slapped him lightly on the arm.

Tony Stark gave a pretend grimace and rubbed the spot I had whacked him while following me to sit on my bed. He looked around the small but bright room that had been given to me on my arrival to the Avengers Compound, lingering on the photos on my desk and shelves.

“I always liked that photo,” Tony murmured, looking at the largest photograph on display.

I followed his gaze and gave a small sad smile. “So do I,” I replied softly, my eyes skimming over the smiling faces in the picture. Tony was there, young and exuberant, his arm around my teenage self. My little brother looked surly, having been made to stop whatever game he was playing. Our parents stood proudly behind us. Howard and Maria Stark stood next to my mum and dad, the four best friends laughing and full of life.

Everyone in that photo, except for Tony and I, was dead now.

“So what are you doing here?” I eventually asked the man sitting contemplatively on my bed.

“What, I can’t just pop in to see you?” Tony joked but I picked up on the tension hidden in his voice.

“Hey,” I said softly, making him look at me with a hand on his cheek. I slipped off his glasses so I could see into his eyes. “What’s wrong? What’s going on?”

Tony seemed to war with himself, an internal battle of will. “I just…” he started but was interrupted by another figure arriving in my doorway.

“Tony!”

I looked up to see Steve looking at Tony a little apprehensively, Wanda hovering in the hallway behind the Captain.

“Captain!” Tony stood and gripped Steve’s hand. Steve smiled genuinely and clapped Tony on the shoulder. The men stepped backwards and Steve’s expression turned unreadable.

“You brought the Secretary of State?” Steve’s tone had an undercurrent of tension, obviously questioning Tony’s motive.

Tony gave a quick nod of his head as an answer and started walking down the hallway, Steve falling into step beside him.

Wanda waited for me to exit my room, my best friend in the compound linking her arm through mine as we followed the two Superheroes to the conference room.

We were the last to arrive, the others already sitting around the large table standing in the middle of the room. Secretary Ross was standing at the front of the table, looking less than impressed by being made to wait. Wanda took the empty chair by Vision, while Steve, Tony and I took seats towards the back of the room. Taking my place at the end of the table between Sam and Steve, I looked over my shoulder to see that Tony wasn’t sitting at the table but instead had taken a seat right in the back left-hand corner.  I frowned at him over my shoulder but he was looking down at his hands, actively avoiding the questioning eyes in the room.

I was properly worried now. His behaviour reminded me of how he was after New York. The panic attacks and insomnia that led him down a dangerous path, that at the time I had not been around to stop.

Secretary Ross started speaking, starting a long tirade. I grew wary as he continued to talk, not liking what I was hearing.

Then he started the slideshow of the destruction left behind by our team.

“New York!” His voice rang out and suddenly there were images of falling buildings and ruined streets crawling with aliens.

I stiffened, my eyes glued to the screen although I desperately wanted to look away.

A large warm hand covered mine, squeezing gently, lending me silent support. I looked up into Steve’s understanding eyes. I smiled weakly at him, portraying my thanks, before looking over my shoulder at Tony. My best friend’s eyes, trained on the projection at the front of the room, were overly bright.

It was the New York Battle that had claimed the lives of my parents and younger brother. And seeing them die right in front of my eyes had awoken the otherwise dormant elemental powers in me. Without New York, I would be a normal college student trying to find her way in the world and popping in to see my family on the weekends.

But life hadn’t worked out that way.

Secretary Ross had moved onto the other cities we’d been in, each name displaying more destruction onto the screen.

“Washington D.C.” Steve stiffened beside me as we watched the three Insight Helicarriers crash into the water.

“Sokovia.” I flicked my gaze towards Wanda, wishing I were closer to where she was sitting, as we watched her home city mid-destruction.

“Lagos.” As the decimated building came into view, I saw Wanda frown and look away, fidgeting in her seat. My blood started to boil. How dare this little man come in and rub our mistakes in our faces. I shot the Secretary a glare that could’ve peeled paint, just as Steve’s commanding tone rang out clearly.

“Okay, that’s enough!” Steve’s eyes were on Wanda, concern making his brow furrow.

Ross gave a nod to his assistant, the projection shutting off as the Secretary continued his long spiel.

“For the past four years, you've operated with unlimited power and no supervision. That's an arrangement the governments of the world can no longer tolerate. But I think we have a solution.”

Ross’ assistant handed him a large foreboding book and slid it onto the table in front of Wanda who gave it a quick glance before sliding it across the table to Rhodey.

“The Sokovia Accords. Approved by a hundred and seventeen countries… it states that the Avengers shall no longer be a private organisation. Instead, they'll operate under the supervision of a United Nations panel, only when and if that panel deems it necessary.”

I peered down the table at the thick book that Rhodey was flicking through, only half paying attention to the conversation still flowing around me. My mind was racing as it came to the realisation of what that book represented.

I turned to glance over my shoulder, just as Steve and Tony traded a loaded look. I turned back towards the table, my eyes meeting with Wanda’s. She looked scared, fear filling her eyes, despite her attempt to keep her expression neutral.

Ross had started to walk away from the table when Nat spoke up for the first time, making my head snap towards her and then towards the Secretary to watch his response.

“And what if we come to a decision you don’t like?”

“Then you retire.”

The whole atmosphere in the room was loaded with tension as the Secretary walked out. I looked around at my team, my family, and knew that I couldn’t let this happen to them. My mind was painting a very clear picture of where this was going and I did not like it one bit.

I stood, ignoring the questioning looks, and walked quickly after Ross, catching up with him at the elevators.

“Secretary Ross?” I called, making him pause in his tracks and look back at me. “Do you remember me? You used to play golf with my father.”

“Y/N Y/L/N. Bobby’s daughter right?” Ross squinted at me questioningly. “What can I do for you?”

I took a deep breath, strengthening my resolve. “Those accords, the panel, the UN involvement, it’s all just bureaucratic bullshit and you know it, sir.”

Ross looked slightly taken aback but then gave a small wry smile. “Is that so?”

I nodded my head and took a step closer. “I grew up surrounded by it. I know a political move when I see it. Someone, somewhere, has an agenda and is using these accords to achieve it.” I locked eyes with him, refusing to budge.

“And you think that's me?” All signs of humour were gone from his now unreadable expression.

I took a deep breath and then continued. I was in too deep anyways to back off now. “I don’t know, sir,” I replied honestly, shrugging my shoulders a little. “All I know is there are only three reasons for these accords to be made.”

“One, they’re hoping that the Avengers will disappear altogether. Two, they want their own personal army to do whatever they want whenever they want. Or number three, they honestly think that the people of the world need protection from the Avengers. And I’m here to tell you that none of those things is going to happen!”

Ross’ expression was now a mixture of confusion and anger. “Is that so. Tell me, little girl, why?”

“Because if it’s reasons one or two there is no way that those people in that room, who have put their lives on the line countless times, will go down without a fight and no way that they will blindly do some bureaucrats dirty work for them.”

“And reason number three, wanting to protect civilians from what we perceive as a danger to their lives?” Ross asked, not able to mask his curiosity.

“My dad told me that you were a smart man, Mr Secretary,” I cocked my head to the side. “You know that these accords will never work. They are doomed to fail.”

Ross didn’t reply, just continued to look at me calculatingly.

“Putting a panel in charge of the Avengers is like putting a flock of geese in charge of herding a bunch of cattle. Nothing is going to get done and pandemonium is bound to follow, and people will die.”

“So, what do you suggest we do?”

His question caught me off guard. I had honestly not expected him to pay attention to a word I said.

I thought about it for a moment. “Honestly I’m not sure,” I said truthfully. “But I know that together we can come up with a solution that better suits everyone.”

“A compromise?” Ross picked up on what I was saying, his mouth quirking up at the corners.

“A compromise,” I agreed, nodding my head in affirmation.

“And you think you and the others.” Ross swept a hand towards the conference room behind us. “Can come up with a better solution.”

“I think we can if we have more time!”

“Fine.” Ross turned towards the elevators and nodded to his assistant who pressed the button to call the lift.

“Sir?” I questioned, not quite sure what he meant.

“You have your time, Miss Y/L/N. I will talk to the UN and get the Vienna meeting pushed. You have one week, one week, to come up with a better solution or the Accords will be ratified.” Ross glared at me in a warning way. “Don’t let me down after all your pretty speeches.”

The lift doors closed on the Secretary, leaving me feeling deflated and little nauseous.

“Well, that was amazing.” A deep voice came from behind me, making me spin around in shock. I hadn’t realised that anyone else was in the corridor.

Steve gave me an unreadable stare, making me shuffle my feet nervously. “I just needed to make him see that those,” I waved my hand towards the room behind him. “Are not going to get us where we need to be.”

Steve gave a quick nod. “Everyone’s in the lounge,” he told me, jerking his head towards our communal area upstairs.

We walked up the stairs together in silence. Steve kept glancing at me as we went. Eventually, I stopped and planted my hands on my hips.

“What?”

The Captain also stopped a few paces away and turned to face me, taking in my annoyed expression.

“It’s just, I never thought you would be such a good mediator,” Steve finally answered, his expression slightly confused.

I sighed and continued walking, brushing past him. “I grew up in a Politician’s house, remember. Bullshitting is a part of my makeup.”

“Did you call us cows, by the way?” Steve asked as I walked away from him.

My mouth quirked up in a small smile as I looked over my shoulder at him, “Maybe.”

Steve gave a wide grin and followed me towards the communal area. I walked into the lounge just as Steve caught up, the sound of arguing immediately putting my teeth on edge.

“A hundred and seventeen countries want to sign this. A hundred and seventeen, Sam, and you're just like, ‘No, that's cool. We got it.’”

“How long are you going to play both sides?”

I glanced between Rhodey and Sam who looked like they were about to come to blows. I opened my mouth to speak, but Vision interjected before I could get a word out.

“I have an equation.”

Steve took a seat at the end of the circle of couches, essentially putting himself at the head of the room. I sat on the couch next to Wanda, as I heard Sam mutter under his breath.

“Oh, this will clear it up.”

Vision looked up, making eye contact with each of us in turn. “In the eight years since Mr Stark announced himself as Iron Man, the number of known enhanced persons has grown exponentially. And during the same period, the number of potentially world-ending events has risen at a commensurate rate.”

“Are you saying it's our fault?” Steve questioned, his tone slightly defensive.

“I'm saying there may be a causality. Our very strength invites challenge. Challenge incites conflict. And conflict… breeds catastrophe. Oversight… Oversight is not an idea that can be dismissed out of hand,” Vision answered his voice even graver than usual.

“Boom.” I heard Rhodey exclaim as I looked over towards Tony, who was being worryingly quiet, stretched out on a couch with one hand on his face.

Nat had also noticed Tony’s behaviour.

“Tony. You are being uncharacteristically non-hyperverbal,” the redhead commented, head cocked to one side.

Steve looked up from reading the accords and glanced at Tony’s prone figure. “It’s because he’s already made up his mind.” Steves tone let everyone know what he thought of Tony's decision.

“Boy, you know me so well.” Tony quipped his sarcastic reply as he pulled himself off the couch, wincing as his hand went to rest on the back of his head. I frowned as I watched my best friend rub the base of his neck, the pain evident in his movement. Nat also eyeballed him carefully before meeting my gaze, raising one eyebrow in concern.

“Actually, I’m nursing an electromagnetic headache.” Tony walked over to the kitchen and grabbed a clean mug. I followed him with my eyes, knowing that Tony only had headaches when he was stressed and not sleeping.

“That's what's going on, Cap. It's just pain. It's discomfort. Who's putting coffee grounds in the disposal? Am I running a bed and breakfast for a biker gang?” Tony’s tone was meant to portray annoyance but all I heard was someone trying to control their own pain by lashing out at others.

Tony put down the coffee pot he was carrying and chucked his phone into the fruit basket at the end of the bench, acting like it was an afterthought as he tapped the screen, projecting an image of a young smiling man.

As the others turned their attention to the photo, I continued to scrutinise Tony. I did not like what I was seeing.

Tony glanced down at the bench he was leaning on and then looked up, pretending to notice the picture for the first time. I resisted the urge to grind my teeth. I always hated it when Tony put on theatrics. He used it as a cover for what he was actually feeling and thinking, and it drove me insane.

“Oh, that's Charles Spencer, by the way. He's a great kid. Computer engineering degree, 3.6 GPA. Had a floor level gig at Intel planned for the fall. But first, he wanted to put a few miles on his soul, before he parked it behind a desk. See the world. Maybe be of service. Charlie didn't want to go to Vegas or Fort Lauderdale, which is what I would do. He didn't go to Paris or Amsterdam, which sounds fun. He decided to spend his summer building sustainable housing for the poor. Guess where… Sokovia.”

You could hear a pin drop in the room as Tony angrily opened a bottle of pills. I glanced around at the others and saw pain, pity and regret.

“He wanted to make a difference, I suppose. I mean, we won't know because we dropped a building on him while we were kicking ass.” I winced at Tony’s derogatory tone, watching as my best friend popped in a painkiller and chugged some coffee to chase it down. I was only just now realising what a mess he really was.

I glanced over towards Steve, watching as he glanced down at the book in his hands, clearly warring with himself.

“There's no decision-making process here.” Tony’s tone was definite as he came to stand before us, his arms crossed over his chest. “We need to be put in check! Whatever form that takes, I'm game. If we can't accept limitations, if we're boundaryless, we're no better than the bad guys.”

“Tony, if someone dies on your watch, you don’t give up,” Steve told the agitated man, his voice even and sure.

“Who said we’re giving up?” Tony shot back, his eyebrows raising.

“We are if we’re not taking responsibility for our actions. This document just shifts the blame,” Steve answered, his face sincere.

I zoned out the voices as I glanced from one Superhero to the other, the tension growing in my stomach. Once again my mind was already racing ahead, predicting the outcomes from this dispute. And I didn’t like what I was coming up with.

Tony’s next remark broke through my thought process as it came very close to what I was already thinking. “If we don't do this now, it's gonna be done to us later. That's the fact. That won't be pretty.”

Wanda spoke up from her position next to me, her voice wavering a little and her accent thicker than normal. “You’re saying they’ll come for me.”

Vision immediately spoke up. “We would protect you.” He glanced at Wanda, the affection that only appeared around the witch, evident in his expression.

I gripped Wanda’s arm tightly, the thought of her being taken from the compound finally tipping me over the edge. I’d had enough.

“Right, you and you,” I interrupted whatever Nat had started saying, pointing an accusing finger at Tony and Steve. “With me now!”

My tone left no room for argument, as I stood and stormed out onto the balcony, holding the door open. Silently, without question, Tony and Steve followed, while the rest watched curiously.

I pettily used wind to slam the door shut behind the two men as I stalked over to the glass balustrade. I turned and crossed my arms over my chest, glaring at the two Superheroes before me.

“Right, you two need to stop right this minute,” I huffed angrily, glaring at them.

“But..” Both opened their mouths to speak, fingers pointing at the other accusingly.

“No buts,” I said firmly. “That team in there relies on both of you, BOTH OF YOU, to show them where they need to go. And if you’re fighting and squabbling like children it’s going to end the Avengers. Do you hear me?” I leant forward and stared into their eyes, making sure they saw that I was deadly serious.

Both men sighed and their shoulders sagged as they took in what I was saying.

“What do you suggest we do?” Tony asked, starting to pace the length of the balcony. “Mr Always-right and I aren’t going to see eye-to-eye on this.”

“Do you know what both of your problems are?” I asked rhetorically, spreading my hands out before me.

“Please, enlighten us,” Steve responded unnecessarily, one eyebrow quirked in amusement.

“You are both looking at this in Black and White and it's not that simple. You need to start looking at the grey areas.”

“I don’t like grey area’s,” Steve’s said warningly, telling me he thought I meant outside the law.

“No, not like that,” I explained to him exasperatingly, running a hand over my forehead. “I mean compromise.”

“Compromise?” They said in unison like it was the most foreign word they had ever heard.

“Yes, compromise,” I repeated, feeling like I was talking to a brick wall. Two, very good looking but completely thick and uncooperative, brick walls.

“Listen, we have made mistakes, okay, that's true. And yes maybe we do need some oversight like Vision said. But,” I held up a hand to stop Steve before he could argue. “But I don’t believe a panel and a book of rules are going to let the Avengers do the work they need to. So, compromise.”

I looked at both of them expectantly, leaning back against the rails and waiting for their suggestions.

Tony and Steve just looked at each other, their faces masks of uncertainty, neither one willing to give up on their ideals.

“Fine, do I have to do everything?” I muttered under my breath, standing up straight. “I would maybe suggest to the UN that, instead of a panel, they assign the Avengers a Liaison Agent, someone who can monitor what we do, in a non-invasive way, and can advise us of the UN’s suggestions when crisis’ come up. However, we maintain the last say on where we do and do not go. Does that make sense?”

I was now the one feeling a headache creeping up into my temples and I massaged them as I watched the boys consider my words.

“And what about ramifications, consequences for our actions?” Tony asked, his brow furrowed in thought.

I shrugged, not really having thought that part through. “I don’t know. I mean, something like what happened in Lagos was an accident. No one could have predicted it and I don’t believe Wanda should be punished for it!” I was staring at Tony the entire time I spoke, gauging his reaction.

“Tony, do you believe that what you started, that the Avengers as a team, make this world a safer place? Have we done that? Can we keep doing it? Or would you rather ‘put us in check’, as you worded it?” I stood right in front of him making sure he kept eye contact with me, my face sincere and open.

He stared down at me and I finally saw the hurt and pain that was eating him up inside.

“Oh, Tony,” I whispered, wrapping my arms around his neck and hanging on tight. His arms twined around my back and he hid his face in my shoulder, his breathing uneven.

“We can’t save everyone, no matter how hard we try,” I whispered in his ear. “If we can’t find a way to live with that, next time we might not save anyone.” It was something that Steve had said to me several times and I knew that it was what Tony needed to hear.

Tony pulled back and I smoothed back his hair, resting my hands on his cheeks. He gave me a small smile. “Thank you, angel,” he said quietly.

“I’m here for you, always,” I replied, reaching up on my tippy-toes and kissing him on the cheek.

Tony turned towards Steve and extended a hand. “Compromise?”

Steve gave a genuine smile and grasped the offered hand. “Compromise.”

“Well, maybe one of the delinquents inside have an idea for consequences,” Tony said, looking through the glass at the rest of our team sitting, watching the whole thing unfold outside. He strode towards the door but I stopped him before he got too far.

“Hey, why were you so set on these Accords? And don’t tell me it was because you were feeling guilty, because I know that that's not all of it.”

Tony looked down at his feet, his hands fiddling with his glasses. He looked up and grimaced, knowing I wouldn’t stop until I had the truth.

“Pepper and I are…” he paused and then rushed forwards. “Are taking a break.”

“Oh, Tony, I’m so sorry.” I lay a hand on his forearm.

“A few years ago, I almost lost her, so I trashed all my suits. Then, we had to mop up HYDRA… and then Ultron. My fault. And then, and then, and then, I never stopped. Because the truth is I don't wanna stop. I don't wanna lose her. I thought maybe the Accords could split the difference…”

“You wanted to be put in check,” I finished for him. He nodded slowly, his eyes on the horizon above my head.

“Hey.” I caught his attention, making him look at me. “I’m here to keep you in check, okay. I won’t let you go crazy!”

He smiled at me wryly. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

He gave one more smile before opening the doors and disappearing inside. I sighed and turned towards Steve.

The Captain was leaning against the railing, looking at me over his shoulder.

I walked across the deck, resting my arms next to his on the railing, only an inch of space between us.

“Sooo,” I drew out the word, looking out onto the horizon deliberately avoiding his gaze.

He chuckled and looked at me sideways. “Compromise, huh?”

“Yep,” I answered, turning so I was facing him. My expression turned serious. “We have to Steve. Otherwise, the Avengers will be ripped apart and I can’t let that happen. You guys are the only family I have.”

Steve twisted so he was looking at me straight on. He smiled, his whole face lighting up. “You are amazing!”

I immediately blushed, looking down at my toes but despite my embarrassment, I heard myself say, “Yes I know!”

This startled a laugh out of the Superhero in front of me. I looked up and our eyes met. An undeniable feeling, one I had fought for a while, crept up from my stomach and lodged in my throat.

Slowly, I stood on my tippy-toes and pressed my lips to his. He stiffened, surprised at first but then relaxed into the kiss, his hands threading through my hair and holding my head tightly to kiss.

We broke the kiss but stayed centimetres apart, breathing heavily.

“So, that happened,” Steve said eventually, his mouth curled up into a soft smile.

“Finally,” I muttered. “It was about time. Do I need to do everything around here?”

Steve’s response was to press his lips back to mine, this kiss not at all slow or gentle. As I moaned at the fervour of his attack, I barely noticed the wind whipping around us or the threatening growls of thunder on the horizon.

“HEY!” A loud shout startled us apart and we looked over to the door leading inside. “Are you planning to level the building Y/N?” Nat asked calmly, pointing behind us.

A huge storm was forming on the horizon, wind howling and lightning clashing.

“Whoops,” I exclaimed, reaching inside me for my source of power and extending my hands out towards the wall of grey. Slowly the clouds melted away until the beautiful sunny spring day returned.

Steve looked over at me proudly, beaming ear to ear.

“That’s my girl!”

[stone-man-warrior]

January 7, 2021: 7:49 pm:

Cries for help remain unanswered.

Twenty-five years of trying to get help while in Oregon. and more time trying while in California more than 25 years ago, all unanswered.

There remains a vacuum of assistance.

The presence of lack of rescue remains persistent.

There are no helpful people anywhere around here.

Please send help.

Please send US Military to Oregon.

Please send medical services to Oregon.

Bring your own hospital, without your own, the terror army will kill you at the hospitals if you are injured while trying to help. There are no medical services for US Citizens in Oregon, only Canadian terror army is treated for health conditions, everyone else is killed at the medical facilities. Illusion of medical treatment facilities is present throughout the state.

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

9:50 pm:

Donald Trump “Insult to Injury” terror:

The whole nation is in such financial distress that it was decided that every citizen should receive stimulus payments, twice.

That’s pretty bad financial conditions for that to have happened.

On the other hand, it appears that things are not so bad after all, in fact, it looks like everything is financially hunky dory, as the social security beneficiaries were only granted a 1.3% cost of living increase, it maxes out at 3% for a cost of living increase for elderly and disabled persons, and is calculated by some asshole this year, because clearly the cost of living has increased more than any other year of record, and that is well documented with the stimulus payments to tens of millions of citizens.

I am getting mixed messages from my government leaders here. One team says “Holy shit!, if we don’t hand out some coins, millions of people will starve because of Corona Virus.” while another team is saying: “Yeah, but we need to save some money somewhere, so, we’ll just fuck the old people and those gimpy fucks in the wheel chairs. canes, and crutches, they are all a bunch of leaches anyway, so, fuck ‘em... give ‘em a 13 just to let them know we mean business, and not to talk about the cut rate increase... they are all a bunch of Tiny Tim wanna bee’s... fuck Tiny Tim, and everyone who looks like him.”

Insult to injury, Christian style, from the top 1%.

It’s 1.7% light on the increase for cost of living.

Woodstock, 1998 Live Version of Edge of Seventeen by Fleetwood Mac.

The song is all fucked up in this version and the venue looks like three farmers took the barn apart to build the venue stage and fencing with a “Farm Pack” from the local lumber yard, for the “Jesus was a Carpenter” version of Edge of Seventeen in New York Catskill Mountains at Woodstock.

Google “Farm Pack” if you don’t understand what that is, or why the Farmer wants to be a Carpenter.

Mixed messages is a life-size thing, is giant blender where old and disabled people are tossed into along with some small children, for making a product that is sprayed onto the roadsides as a erosion abatement, keeps the mudslide from being noticed after the reigns come, for a prophet, and contracted by the state.

========

1-8-2021: 2:01 pm:

The Woodstock Version features Stevie wearing gold, she is famous for white and black, not gold.

It’s the “Sympathy for the Devil” version with a “Welcome to Jamaica, have a nice day” tattoo version, comes with a helicopter and alternate Harmonic Vocal Tuning, and, as noted, the screams of the crowd, were indeed heard.

=======

10:30 pm:

In the event that someone wants to do that math on “Jesus was a Carpenter” and why it’s associated to “Edge of Seventeen“ so heavily, need to have a look at 1985-ish United Brotherhood of Carpenters and Joiners of America Journeyman Wage Scale for Residential Carpenter Pay Rate.

There, you will find that the scale was about $17.50 per hour, while pay scale for Commercial Journeyman was about $22.10 per hour.

The $17.50 Residential Carpenters used to have a lot sayings, one is “I owe, I owe, so off to work I go” another was “Another day, another seventeen-fifty... and another oweee, damn, that hurt when I fell yesterday”

The Carpenters Union was hijacked back then, the story about is long and complex. It’s an important part of why the White House and Congress are all occupied by terrorists bent on ruling the world in league with Britain and the Vatican.

no one will speak to me to hear the story of Jesus worked as a Residential Union Carpenter who was making about $17.50 per hour when he was hit over he head and nailed to a cross on the jobsite.

Adam Schiff was there, part of the takeover of the carpenters union in the 1980′s. He worked for L & M Builders of Ventura County (Thousand Oaks and around there) and used the name “Cory” last name unknown, we used to have a Saturday night poker game together with some of the guys on the crew at the time.

I could be wrong... but I could be right... it was a long time ago, and “Cory” once told me he was an actor, just on the job to check things out, then one day, Cory said “I’m going to Montana”. He left, and that was the last I saw of him until I met him again here in Oregon at a dinner party at a friends house, Kurt Hill, the fork lift driver of Longboard Lumber in Merlin. There he was, “Carpenter Cory of Montana”, at the dinner party, some 25 years later on Jumpoff Joe Creek Road in Josephine county, where I was shot at by someone who ran into the forest after shooting, when Cory said “Can you go over there, and hand me that thing there...?” kind of way to put me in range. Paul Birch was owner of Longboard Lumber, turned out to be a hardcore Christian terror operative here in Merlin, and built hundreds of “Bomb Carts”... I never was able to learn more about the “Bombs” though, only that there was talk of tunnels, and a cabinet shop at Union Ave and Ringuette near the hospital. The carts were made of dimensional lumber and plywood, about four feet square, with a vertical back on one side, heavy duty castors, could haul about 1,000 lbs each, and there were hundreds made at Longboard Lumber by “Will”, an employee there at the Lumber yard, who also turned out to be a terror soldier who kept trying to kill me, for about 16 years so far, he used to stalk me to the Walgreen’s last year, often had a small boy with him. I think I killed Will at the Walgreen‘s in defense about one year ago. Paul Birch took his business dealings to Newport Oregon, to start a terror cell there when Longboard Lumber closed down about 10 years ago-ish.

Like I said, it’s a long story. is important, includes Fleetwood Mac, and Buckingham Palace.

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

1-8-2021: 3:17 pm: additional:

“Carpenter Cory Montana”: My memory is that his last name started with the letter n: neuman; newsome: neuter... something like that. “Cory Newsome” sounds hauntingly familiar.

There may be a connection to a US Postal Mail Carrier by the name of “Mo” who was the carrier for this route for many years when I first moved here to Oregon in 1996. Mo, used to always wear a beany, I have “Mo’s Beany”, but I do not know why, or how I obtained “Mo’s Beany”. The words “That’s Mo’s Beany” have been said my many a terror intruder into my home over a long period of time, as I keep “Mo’s Beany” clearly on display at a place in my home where terror intruders tend to hide when they enter. There are only very few places to hide inside my house these days, I have all of the rooms nailed shut to keep intruders from hiding in them. Had I not closed off all of the rooms in my house, I would have been killed a long time ago.

I advise US Citizens to reduce their living spaces to a bare minimum, as the intruders tend to hide, and wait quietly until the intended victims are asleep in their beds. That is the reason I have not slept in a bed in more than ten years... it’s far too dangerous to use a conventional bed. Sleep is a luxury I cannot afford, neither can you.

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

I think “Adam Cory Schiff” was stalking the L & M Builder’s owner’s son, Cory Reese, who was also part of the Saturday night poker game crew, back in the day when a card game was just a game of Dealers Choice, not global annihilation done by SAG Actors.

I considered Kurt Hill to be a friend until one day I saw him wrap a Pharmacist with cellophane shipping warehouse style plastic wrap, and drag the pharmacist out of the Service Drugs that used to be on 6th St. and toss him into a truck, and drive away from there. It was dusk, at the time. Kurt was a big giant of a man, very strong. I think I killed him in defense out by the mailboxes about ... a long time ago, in defense after some geese were seen running around with no heads on them, making horrible sounds out front on the road.

Seventeen-Fifty is the connection to “Edge of Seventeen“, Union Journeyman scale wages.

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

11:28 pm:

Other Carpenter Union take over details:

There was a local union hall either on Ventura Blvd in Woodland Hills Ca, or near there, I belonged to that one for awhile, then moved my card to District Counsel 844. I learned that carpenters were being hired by the framing contractors, and they were being signed up as Journeyman, even when they had few skills, but I was not one of those, I did, however, join as a Journeyman having worked non-union for my whole life by the time I joined the union. There was a housing boom, carpenters were on short supply. (it turns out that the housing boom was a “manufactured housing arrangement”, so to speak, to create housing for the upcoming influx of Canadian terror soldiers. Tracts of houses, many thousands each tract, all in phased of one-hundred to four-hundred homes each phase, all around Southern California) Those Journeyman newcomers were paid union wage scale, worked forty hours per week, but were only actually paid for some other amount of hours, typically, about 20 hours were paid out at scale wage for a 40 hour week worked on the job. A carpenter and an employer came to agreement on the side, about hourly rate, about $10 was norm, so, the math was worked to pay $10 per hour, while reflecting full scale on the pay check, with reduced hours showing for the full week of work, making illusion that they only worked part time, about 20 hours or so.

Those carpenters were robbed of the necessary accumulation of hours to become vested for pension.

I demanded one dollar over scale, I was paid one dollar over scale, always, after I learned of that weird arrangement of hours. I was hurt before I became vested.

L & M Builders had a jobsite I worked on where a police officer was shot, and hand cuffed to his steering wheel, I heard him, used his radio to call for help, he died though right there in the car after I got his cuffs unlocked. That jobsite in Thousand Oaks, north side somewhere, at the edge of the city limits, was the weirdest place ever... they built the model homes, five or six different layouts, in a culdesac, to demonstrate what would be for sale later. We built those, then, some other crew of special people came and took the model houses apart piece by piece, then, we built the same floor plans again, on the same slabs. The houses were about 4,000 sq. ft. two story homes, all taken apart after completion of all trades... roofs were on, drywall was all done, plumbers had finished, electrician ran the wire, the HVAC was done... all done. Then, they took them apart, so we could build them again.

Same thing happened here in Grants Pass. The place that just is being completed now called Cascade Public Storage, was all built, completed, done... about ten of maybe twenty years ago... they took the whole thing apart, made it look as if the place was never there, and now, decades later, the exact same structures are there again. The place is weird. The construction techniques include every kind of method there is, block, iron, wood frame, metal frame, concrete... every kind of tradesman on earth was needed to build that thing, twice.

My guess is that the terror army is advertising for help wanted at that site in far away places to draw craftsmen to come to Oregon where they are captured and used as slaves, or are killed and replaced. It’s visible from I-5 at the exit 58 near Club Northwest, where the terror leadership is at, and CNW is the same as Grants Pass Chamber of Commerce as far as membership goes at the Club Northwest terror HQ. There used to be a National Security Administration Field Office next door to Club Northwest, but that seems to have been taken apart a different way, one NSA officer at a time, and was put back somewhere else as Department of Homeland Security, while they put a Department of Health Services where the NSA used to be, for confusion service. and to fulfill “insult to injury” terror protocols required by the Christian Church.

I am pretty sure that the leading Church components to the terror army are at the 9th St. Seventh Day Adventist Church, it’s next door to the Oregon State Police Field Office that’s on 7th St., but you have to hop over a block wall to get from one place to the other, last time I looked over there.

There is a fire station on Park St at the Grants Pass Pkwy intersection that is remarkable for having been built with that multi-faceted construction techniques that Cascade Storage is built with. The place is stunning to look at, is awesome building, is extreme expense for a fire station, way over the top, in my opinion.

These subjects of buildings are in the realm of a place called “Options of Southern Oregon” across from the Walgreen‘s, and another place called “Crisis Resolution Center” between where Walgreen’s and the Hospital are at, which might be the source of some of the most wicked of all of the killing contraptions used around here in Josephine County... very scary places are CRC and Options.

There are no shortages of impostors around here, so, in the event that someone who claiams to be the author of  this account has found some helpful people to talk to, that’s not the author of this account. Be advised that I think it was the Sparacino terror cell that stole all of my old pay stubs from back in the day, and has stolen much personal items, to use to impersonate the author of this information. Clyde Baum at 333 Jackpine is famous for the lengths he has gone to impersonate the author of this information also. Both Sparacino of 545 and Baum of 333 are supported in their efforts to impersonate by the local Oregon authorities.

(account is hijacked again)

[dfroza]

which path of the heart will you choose?

that of this world and its temporal nature, or in eternal Love and its rebirth?

(rebirth of the heart and eventually the body)

the Son is True illumination.

A True story of resurrection is seen in Today’s reading of the Scriptures documented as chapter 11 in the book of John:

[Lazarus Raised from the Dead]

In the village of Bethany there was a man named Lazarus, and his sisters, Mary and Martha. Mary was the one who would anoint Jesus’ feet with costly perfume and dry his feet with her long hair. One day Lazarus became very sick to the point of death. So his sisters sent a message to Jesus, “Lord, our brother Lazarus, the one you love, is very sick. Please come!”

When he heard this, he said, “This sickness will not end in death for Lazarus, but will bring glory and praise to God. This will reveal the greatness of the Son of God by what takes place.”

Now even though Jesus loved Mary, Martha, and Lazarus, he remained where he was for two more days. Finally, on the third day, he said to his disciples, “Come. It’s time to go to Bethany.”

“But Teacher,” they said to him, “do you really want to go back there? It was just a short time ago the people of Judea were going to stone you!”

Jesus replied, “Are there not twelve hours of daylight in every day? You can go through a day without the fear of stumbling when you walk in the One who gives light to the world. But you will stumble when the light is not in you, for you’ll be walking in the dark.”

Then Jesus added, “Lazarus, our friend, has just fallen asleep. It’s time that I go and awaken him.”

When they heard this, the disciples replied, “Lord, if he has just fallen asleep, then he’ll get better.” Jesus was speaking about Lazarus’ death, but the disciples presumed he was talking about natural sleep.

Then Jesus made it plain to them, “Lazarus is dead. And for your sake, I’m glad I wasn’t there, because now you have another opportunity to see who I am so that you will learn to trust in me. Come, let’s go and see him.”

So Thomas, nicknamed the Twin, remarked to the other disciples, “Let’s go so that we can die with him.”

Now when they arrived at Bethany, which was only about two miles from Jerusalem, Jesus found that Lazarus had already been in the tomb for four days. Many friends of Mary and Martha had come from the region to console them over the loss of their brother. And when Martha heard that Jesus was approaching the village, she went out to meet him, but Mary stayed in the house.

Martha said to Jesus, “My Lord, if only you had come sooner, my brother wouldn’t have died. But I know that if you were to ask God for anything, he would do it for you.”

Jesus told her, “Your brother will rise and live.”

She replied, “Yes, I know he will rise with everyone else on resurrection day.”

“Martha,” Jesus said, “You don’t have to wait until then. I am the Resurrection, and I am Life Eternal. Anyone who clings to me in faith, even though he dies, will live forever. And the one who lives by believing in me will never die. Do you believe this?”

Then Martha replied, “Yes, Lord, I do! I’ve always believed that you are the Anointed One, the Son of God who has come into the world for us!” Then she left and hurried off to her sister, Mary, and called her aside from all the mourners and whispered to her, “The Master is here and he’s asking for you.”

So when Mary heard this, she quickly went off to find him, for Jesus was lingering outside the village at the same spot where Martha met him. Now when Mary’s friends who were comforting her noticed how quickly she ran out of the house, they followed her, assuming she was going to the tomb of her brother to mourn.

When Mary finally found Jesus outside the village, she fell at his feet in tears and said, “Lord, if only you had been here, my brother would not have died.”

When Jesus looked at Mary and saw her weeping at his feet, and all her friends who were with her grieving, he shuddered with emotion and was deeply moved with tenderness and compassion. He said to them, “Where did you bury him?”

“Lord, come with us and we’ll show you,” they replied.

Then tears streamed down Jesus’ face.

Seeing Jesus weep caused many of the mourners to say, “Look how much he loved Lazarus.” Yet others said, “Isn’t this the One who opens blind eyes? Why didn’t he do something to keep Lazarus from dying?”

Then Jesus, with intense emotions, came to the tomb—a cave with a stone placed over its entrance. Jesus told them, “Roll away the stone.”

Then Martha said, “But Lord, it’s been four days since he died—by now his body is already decomposing!”

Jesus looked at her and said, “Didn’t I tell you that if you will believe in me, you will see God unveil his power?”

So they rolled away the heavy stone. Jesus gazed into heaven and said, “Father, thank you that you have heard my prayer, for you listen to every word I speak. Now, so that these who stand here with me will believe that you have sent me to the earth as your messenger, I will use the power you have given me.” Then with a loud voice Jesus shouted with authority: “Lazarus! Come out of the tomb!”

Then in front of everyone, Lazarus, who had died four days earlier, slowly hobbled out—he still had grave clothes tightly wrapped around his hands and feet and covering his face! Jesus said to them, “Unwrap him and let him loose.”

From that day forward many of those who had come to visit Mary believed in him, for they had seen with their own eyes this amazing miracle! But a few went back to inform the Pharisees about what Jesus had done.

So the Pharisees and the chief priests called a special meeting of the High Council and said, “So what are we going to do about this man? Look at all the great miracles he’s performing! If we allow him to continue like this, everyone will believe in him. And the Romans will take action and destroy both our country and our people!”

Now Caiaphas, the high priest that year, spoke up and said, “You don’t understand a thing! Don’t you realize we’d be much better off if this one man were to die for the people than for the whole nation to perish?”

(This prophecy that Jesus was destined to die for the Jewish people didn’t come from Caiaphas himself, but he was moved by God to prophesy as the chief priest. And Jesus’ death would not be for the Jewish people only, but to gather together God’s children scattered around the world and unite them as one.) So from that day on, they were committed to killing Jesus.

For this reason Jesus no longer went out in public among the Jews. But he went in the wilderness to a village called Ephraim, where he secluded himself with his disciples.

Now the time came for the Passover preparations, and many from the countryside went to Jerusalem for their ceremonial cleansing before the feast began. And all the people kept looking out for Jesus, expecting him to come to the city. They said to themselves while they waited in the temple courts, “Do you think that he will dare come to the feast?” For the leading priests and the Pharisees had given orders that they be informed immediately if anyone saw Jesus, so they could seize and arrest him.

The Book of John, Chapter 11 (The Passion Translation)

Today’s paired chapter of the Testaments is Judges 8 that documents another ancient battle, as well as the people turning to worship a false god rather than the True God our Creator:

Then the Ephraimites said to Gideon, “Why did you leave us out of this, not calling us when you went to fight Midian?” They were indignant and let him know it.

But Gideon replied, “What have I done compared to you? Why, even the gleanings of Ephraim are superior to the vintage of Abiezer. God gave you Midian’s commanders, Oreb and Zeeb. What have I done compared with you?”

When they heard this, they calmed down and cooled off.

Gideon and his three hundred arrived at the Jordan and crossed over. They were bone-tired but still pressing the pursuit. He asked the men of Succoth, “Please, give me some loaves of bread for my troops I have with me. They’re worn out, and I’m hot on the trail of Zebah and Zalmunna, the Midianite kings.”

But the leaders in Succoth said, “You’re on a wild goose chase; why should we help you on a fool’s errand?”

Gideon said, “If you say so. But when God gives me Zebah and Zalmunna, I’ll give you a thrashing, whip your bare flesh with desert thorns and thistles!”

He went from there to Peniel and made the same request. The men of Peniel, like the men of Succoth, also refused. Gideon told them, “When I return safe and sound, I’ll demolish this tower.”

Zebah and Zalmunna were in Karkor with an army of about fifteen companies, all that was left of the fighting force of the easterners—they had lost 120 companies of soldiers.

Gideon went up the caravan trail east of Nobah and Jogbehah, found and attacked the undefended camp. Zebah and Zalmunna fled, but he chased and captured the two kings of Midian. The whole camp had panicked.

Gideon son of Joash returned from the battle by way of the Heres Pass. He captured a young man from Succoth and asked some questions. The young man wrote down the names of the officials and leaders of Succoth, seventy-seven men. Then Gideon went to the men of Succoth and said, “Here are the wild geese, Zebah and Zalmunna, you said I’d never catch. You wouldn’t give so much as a scrap of bread to my worn-out men; you taunted us, saying that we were on a fool’s errand.”

Then he took the seventy-seven leaders of Succoth and thrashed them with desert thorns and thistles. And he demolished the tower of Peniel and killed the men of the city.

He then addressed Zebah and Zalmunna: “Tell me about the men you killed at Tabor.”

“They were men much like you,” they said, “each one like a king’s son.”

Gideon said, “They were my brothers, my mother’s sons. As God lives, if you had let them live, I would let you live.”

Then he spoke to Jether, his firstborn: “Get up and kill them.” But he couldn’t do it, couldn’t draw his sword. He was afraid—he was still just a boy.

Zebah and Zalmunna said, “Do it yourself—if you’re man enough!” And Gideon did it. He stepped up and killed Zebah and Zalmunna. Then he took the crescents that hung on the necks of their camels.

The Israelites said, “Rule over us, you and your son and your grandson. You have saved us from Midian’s tyranny.”

Gideon said, “I most certainly will not rule over you, nor will my son. God will reign over you.”

Then Gideon said, “But I do have one request. Give me, each of you, an earring that you took as plunder.” Ishmaelites wore gold earrings, and the men all had their pockets full of them.

They said, “Of course. They’re yours!”

They spread out a blanket and each man threw his plundered earrings on it. The gold earrings that Gideon had asked for weighed about forty-three pounds—and that didn’t include the crescents and pendants, the purple robes worn by the Midianite kings, and the ornaments hung around the necks of their camels.

Gideon made the gold into a sacred ephod and put it on display in his hometown, Ophrah. All Israel prostituted itself there. Gideon and his family, too, were seduced by it.

Midian’s tyranny was broken by the Israelites; nothing more was heard from them. The land was quiet for forty years in Gideon’s time.

Jerub-Baal son of Joash went home and lived in his house. Gideon had seventy sons. He fathered them all—he had a lot of wives! His concubine, the one at Shechem, also bore him a son. He named him Abimelech.

Gideon son of Joash died at a good old age. He was buried in the tomb of his father Joash at Ophrah of the Abiezrites.

[Abimelech]

Gideon was hardly cool in the tomb when the People of Israel had gotten off track and were prostituting themselves to Baal—they made Baal-of-the-Covenant their god. The People of Israel forgot all about God, their God, who had saved them from all their enemies who had hemmed them in. And they didn’t keep faith with the family of Jerub-Baal (Gideon), honoring all the good he had done for Israel.

The Book of Judges, Chapter 8 (The Message)

my personal reading of the Scriptures for Wednesday, September 2 of 2020 with a paired chapter from each Testament along with Today’s Psalms and Proverbs

A set of posts by John Parsons about seeking and finding God:

When you become alive to the truth that the LORD is your Rock, the very ground upon which you live, move, and have your being, then your steps are made sure, as it says, "The steps of a man are established by the LORD, when he delights in his way; though he fall, he shall not be cast down: for the LORD holds his hand" (Psalm 37:23-24). When you are unsure of your way, when you walk in uncertainty, you are unsteady in your resolve and are tempted to regard your life as being without any solid foundation. As you commit your way to the LORD, your steps are made sure, for you are walking before his Presence, and therefore you are upheld by his power. May you walk strong, friends! [Hebrew for Christians]

9.1.20 • Facebook

Perhaps you (like me) once learned Psalm 19:7 as, "The law of the LORD is perfect, converting the soul." However, the Hebrew text might better be translated as, "The instruction (i.e., Torah) of the LORD is perfect, returning the soul." This is the message of teshuvah (תְּשׁוּבָה), or "repentance," of course. We turn away from ourselves to discover that only the love of God given in Yeshua gives life to our dead hearts (Mark 1:15). Teshuvah is therefore first of all a matter of faith, of trusting in the miracle of God. And though it is indeed a great gift from heaven, it requires that we pass through the "narrow gate" of humility by confessing the truth about who we are (Matt. 7:13). We turn away from our pride; we acknowledge our inner poverty, our neediness, and we mourn over the loss and hurt caused by our sin. Teshuvah turns us away from our attempts to defend or justify ourselves and instead turns to God to heal our separation from love (Rom. 8:3-4). The miracle of love buries our old nature and transforms us into a new creation (2 Cor. 5:17). [Hebrew for Christians]

9.1.20 • Facebook

[Anam Cara Ministries]

Where is God in the midst of your noisy days? Does it feel hard to stay connected to (or even remember) God when there is so much swirling around you?

David Steindl-Rast, the author of “The Music of Silence”, says this: “Any place is sacred ground, for it can become a place of encounter with the divine Presence.”

How can you find God, not apart from the noise, but in the midst of it today? Is there a bit of quiet somewhere in you that you can tune into, even when noise and chaos seem to reign? Name wherever you are today as “sacred ground”, a meeting place with God.

9.1.20 • Facebook

and to accompany this a message in an email from Glenn Jackson from August 31 about the pure Temple treasure of the heart:

This has been called the age or dispensation of the Holy Spirit. When Jesus was about to leave the disciples, He promised that He would send the Holy Spirit into the world to become their Teacher, Guide, and Comforter. This coming Being was going to have charge of the ministry and the work of the Church. He was going to guide the Church as a whole, and guide its members as individuals. He was to overshadow the Church, and they were to walk in His presence. He was to come also into the individual member's body to take up His abode there so that He might govern their actions, think through their mind, love through their affections, and will through their will. Their body was to be His permanent home. Under the old dispensation, He had dwelt between the Cherubim in the holy of holies; now He is to dwell in the soul and spirit of man, this new tabernacle of flesh. The Holy Spirit is the teacher of the Church and He knows the mind of God, and He reveals that mind of God to the individual child of God.

The Holy Spirit's special place of activity today is on earth, convicting of sin, holding back the powers of darkness, recreating members of the family of God, and guiding, comforting, and indwelling their bodies.

...."But the Helper, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in My name, He will teach you all things, and bring to your remembrance all that I said to you ".... John 14:26 NASB

...."But when He, the Spirit of truth, comes, He will guide you into all the truth; for He will not speak on His own initiative, but whatever He hears, He will speak; and He will disclose to you what is to come ".... John 16:13 NASB

...."the love of God [the Father] has been poured out within our hearts through the Holy Spirit who was given to us".... Romans 5:5 NASB

...."But if the Spirit of him that raised up Jesus from the dead dwell in you, he that raised up Christ from the dead shall also quicken your mortal bodies by his Spirit that dwelleth in you".... Romans 8:11 KJV

[Anam Cara Ministries]

“Silence is God's first language; everything else is a poor translation.”

― Thomas Keating, Invitation to Love: The Way of Christian Contemplation

Can you hear it?

Throughout the day today, see if you can tune into that quiet frequency in the middle of your soul where God speaks. Even when the world around you is noisy. Even when your own mind is noisy. Pause every so often and just listen in on the silent conversation God is having with you. Don’t try to make something happen – just pay attention and rest in the quiet that is truly there, even when you mostly aren’t aware of it.

9.2.20 • Facebook

[ellanainthetardis]

Life with a baby... Not the most easy ;)

[FF] or [ao3)

36. 3 Days

The knife slashed at her chest as Clay’s face came into view and Effie woke up with a strangled scream that echoed in the empty bedroom.

She sat there, in the middle of the tangled sheets, and panted for a moment, her eyes darting from the small specks of dust dancing in the light coming through the window to the crib next to the bed. Slowly, her heart stopped racing and sensations came back. She groaned and flopped down on her back to rub her face with her hands – sitting was still a bit painful.

Once she was certain the nightmare wouldn’t turn into something more, like a panic attack or a flashback, she felt around the bed with her free hand. The sheets were cold and, given how bright it was outside, she figured it must have been late.

Anxiety immediately made the content of her stomach slosh around.

Where was April?

She tried to calm down, to breathe in and out slowly, to get those treacherous feelings under control… She knew her daughter was most likely fine, with Haymitch somewhere in the house, and that she was overreacting. She had promised him she would work on those impulses to keep April close at all cost and she had mostly – letting Peeta hold her in her presence had been torture at first but it had made the boy so happy… But she couldn’t help it. She couldn’t.

She was out of bed before she could remind herself she was being irrational.

She hadn’t left the bedroom much since the birth. She had briefly wandered downstairs the previous day, after Doctor Larcher had given her the all-clear, barely long enough to phone her family and Four.

She was still a little tired and she felt gross. There were things about the aftermath of birth that nobody told you about and now she realized why. It was somehow worse than having one’s period and the fact that she couldn’t use tampons wasn’t helping in the slightest, she had never been a fan of pads. And she felt clammy too. She had washed with a cloth at the sink but it had been all that she had felt the strength to do after delivery and she now felt an urge to take a very long shower.

But all that was secondary to finding her daughter.

She followed the quiet noises to the kitchen.

Her stomach finally settled when she caught sight of what was happening in there. The backdoor was cracked open and Snowball was lying half-in and half-out, no doubt keeping an eye on the geese wandering outside. Haymitch was flipping things in a pan, wearing his red and grey checkered sweatpants and nothing else. She took a second to admire the hard lines of his back, her eyes lingering a little on the familiar faded scars, and then fell on the baby seat on the middle of the table.

She made a beeline for April.

The baby was sleeping and she didn’t want to wake her so she simply placed her hand on the center of her chest, happy to feel it regularly rise and fall.

“I was starting to wonder if you’d slipped in a coma.” Haymitch snorted, making the round something jump in the pan.

The counter was a mess of flour and dough and she eventually guessed he was making pancakes. Enough pancakes to feed an army. She eyed the small tower piled in a plate to his left with amusement.

“Are we expecting the rest of Panem for breakfast?” she teased.

“Just the kids.” he snorted.

She stepped closer and stretched her neck for her morning kiss. It was just a peck and they shared a look afterwards before bursting out laughing. Well… She laughed, Haymitch chuckled.

He rubbed the back of  his neck, amusement still plainly visible on his face.

“When did we get so disgustingly domestic, sweetheart?” he joked.

“Does it matter?” she grinned.

Domestic or not, ridiculous or not… She was certain she could never be happier than at that moment. Well. She might. If she had felt a bit less filthy.

The moment she had thought the word her smile turned to a small wince.

She could smell herself and it was bad. Rot and decay and…

A hand cupped her cheek and she blinked hard, coming back to the present.

“You should go grab a shower, sweetheart.” he suggested, always attuned to her needs. “Get dolled up even. I’ve got it under control.” She tossed an hesitant look to April, reluctant to be parted from her even for a second but… “We’ve been fine so far, we’ll be fine for a little more. You can have your turn with her when you feel better.” He pressed a kiss on her forehead. “Besides… Now, you’ve gotta eat a hundred pancakes.”

“Certainly not.” she huffed. “I intend to get my figure back.” She smoothed his borrowed shirt over her budging stomach and let her eyes linger on the baby. “I don’t know why it is so hard… I know she is fine with you. I just…” The prospect of leaving her behind, even if it was only in another room was enough to bring tears to her eyes. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what is wrong with me.”

“You’re her mom and it’s still new.” he shrugged. “Can’t say I’m too happy when I can’t see her either. It’ll get better.”

“Will it?” she whispered.

His mouth twitched into a smirk. “Worse comes to worse, we’ll be those annoying parents who follow their kid everywhere. Bet she’s gonna love it when she’s a teenager.”

She made a face. “Do not talk of her being a teenager. We will be ancient by then.”

“You’ll still be gorgeous.” he countered smoothly.

She snorted and fought her own smile.

“You are an idiot.” she accused with fondness. She pressed a kiss to his cheek and let out a sigh. “I will be back in a flash.”

“Take your time.” he dismissed.

She stopped by the table to drop a kiss on her daughter’s head before scurrying upstairs. She caught a glimpse of the bed on her way to the bathroom and wrinkled her nose in distaste. It only took her a couple of minutes to undress it. She would do it later, she decided, and maybe she would clean around a little too because she had been remiss in the last few weeks and…

She shook her head and forced herself to get a hold on her compulsions. She wasn’t in a cell, the bedroom was clean enough, it would be alright.

She stepped into the shower and let the warm water run on her body – and it was bliss. She gradually relaxed, forgetting to fret for a few minutes. She took her time rubbing her scented gel on her body and she took even longer working the shampoo in her hair.

She felt refreshed when she finally emerged from the shower in a cloud of steam. Once she had dried herself, she passed the towel on the mirror to get a clear reflection and she took a good hard look at herself.

She had felt so huge lately…

She didn’t look as bad as she remembered. The pressing weight on her stomach had disappeared and that was already a good point. She certainly wasn’t slim anymore but she didn’t feel ready to burst either and she figured that with a proper healthy diet and some exercising, she could get back in shape in a couple of months.

It made her feel good about herself.

She hummed as she selected an outfit for the day – something that she hadn’t indulged in in a while because inelegant stretchy pants and loose shirts had been all she could get comfortable in. She settled on a pink dress with an empire waist that mostly hid the flaws in her figures. She wanted to couple it with heels too but she wasn’t sure it was wise yet. Tomorrow, she decided and it made her smile.

She felt a lot more like herself once her hair was tied up in a fancy bun and she had applied some make-up on her face. She clasped the butterfly necklace around her neck and grinned when she felt it settle on her collarbone.

She looked less like a pregnant elephant and more like Effie Trinket.

She was sporting a bright smile on her lips when she walked back down.

Everyone in the kitchen did a double take, which made her feel very cocky. Peeta was smiling wide, Katniss looked a little relieved and Haymitch just licked his lips.

“Well, shit, sweetheart…” he breathed out, his gaze turning a little dark with lust.

For all his oaths that he always found her beautiful, she had known he was most likely partially lying. It was alright. She liked herself better when she was presentable too.

“Language, Haymitch.” she chided him. “I won’t have you talk like that when you have my baby in your arms.” She lost no time in stealing said baby from him, though. April was awake, bright blue eyes staring back at her… “Hello, my darling…” She could have gotten lost in her daughter’s eyes but she forced herself to make an effort. “And hello to you too, children.”

“You look beautiful, Effie.” Peeta offered, always the gentleman.

She smiled back at him. “I did try.”

“Well, that’s a win.” Haymitch snorted, taking his seat at the table where four plates were waiting. “Breakfast, come on.”

She pretended not to notice the chair intended for her had a nice fluffy cushion on it. It was thoughtful, certainly, but also a little embarrassing. She transferred April in her left arm, propping it on the table so it wouldn’t get tired and made sure she was comfortable before she started eating.

The conversation was easy.

The children joked and laughed, teasing Haymitch about something or other… Effie wasn’t really following, she sometimes made a remark but she was distracted by the bundle of joy in her arms. She couldn’t stop staring at her daughter, marveling at her.  

In a flash of mad imagination, she saw the rest of her life and it was a succession of quiet mornings like this one: her baby nearby, her not quite babies arguing with Haymitch about why he really should put on a shirt before they came around, Haymitch feeding the banter and stealing glances at her when they weren’t looking… The two of them sharing secret smiles to which the children were oblivious.

The old Effie Trinket, the one who had dreamed of glory and influence, would have been horrified by a fate she had always tried her hardest to avoid. She had never wanted to be only a mother or a wife to a man who would regard her as some possession. She had always wanted to be more.

Right then, she would have been happy if being a mother and a wife was the last things she got to be. In no small part because Haymitch would never behave like she was a doll on a shelf for him to play with when the fancy struck.

There would be exciting new things in her life, she was sure, but for now… For now she was content with what she had. It was more than she ever thought she would get.

A family of her own.

Healthy and happy…

She hid her smile against her daughter’s brow as she dropped a kiss on her head.

April made a small sound that held no real meaning but that made Effie smile harder. She soon became unsettled though and Effie excused herself to feed her in the living-room. It was a bit less painful but it still wasn’t comfortable, her nipples felt raw and irritated and no amount of advices or tips to help actually made a difference.

April still looked hungry when she eventually took her away from her breast. It took her a few minutes to calm her down. She was a sweet-tempered thing though – at least when Effie wasn’t a ball of nerves – she settled down quickly.

“We got a delivery.” Haymitch said, leaning against the doorframe. “Not that you could hear over the wailing… I’m telling you, sweetheart, she’s got your lungs.” She tried to force a smile but didn’t quite manage. She felt sad because she knew, Doctor Larcher’s recommendations to wait and see or to take it easy notwithstanding. Haymitch frowned. “Effie, what’s wrong?”

She shook her head. “We will talk about it with the doctor when he comes over later.”

His grey eyes darted to the baby and he immediately outstretched his arms in an instinctive plea to be allowed to protect and comfort. She had to remind herself nobody would be taking April away before she handed her over, hiding behind a mask of fake cheerfulness that was still almost too easy to conjure.

The baby safely cradled in his left arm, he brushed slightly trembling fingers against Effie’s cheek. She leaned in the caress but her eyes remained sad.

“You think she’s still hungry again?” he asked, uncertain.

“Call it a mother’s instinct.” she whispered. “I know.”

“Larcher said we needed to wait and see.” he hesitated. “Maybe…”

“We will see.” she dismissed. “A delivery, you said?”

He touched her shoulder before she could wander too far away.

“Sweetheart, if we have to add bottles…” He shrugged, careful not to disturb the baby. It was the most precious thing, really, to see him holding their daughter close to his bare chest. “It doesn’t mean you failed or any bullshit like that.”

She flashed him a smile but escaped his knowing gaze by taking refuge in the kitchen. Katniss and Peeta were chatting while doing the dishes, she turned her attention to the huge package in the middle of the table. The return address was her parents’ and her mood improved drastically. Her mother had promised to send some stuff over in express but nothing had arrived so far and Effie had started to think Elindra would be there well before the gifts.

She grabbed a knife from the drawer – and tried not to remember what had happened the last time she had opened a package from her mother with one of those because the knife slashed and Clay’ s face and…

“Do you need help?” Peeta asked, gently taking the knife from her clenched fingers. It took her a second to relax her fist but the boy simply waited as if nothing was out of the ordinary. “Those packages can be so tricky…”

She nodded, taking the excuse he was giving her with gratefulness.

Katniss didn’t seem to think anything of it but Haymitch, who had followed her in the room, was now studying her with rapt attention. He had picked up the cat rag doll somewhere and he was distractedly playing with it, making it dance in front of April’s face.

It was a ridiculous sight and she wasn’t really surprised when a camera flashed. Katniss had made it her mission to collect as many embarrassing pictures of Haymitch as she could – Effie believed there was a bet out there with Johanna.

The bright flash, unfortunately, did nothing for her. It briefly blinded her and… her cell was dark. Dark. Dark. Dark.

She breathed in through her nose, made a point of identifying the different smells in the kitchen… The dishwater soap, the lingering scent of pancakes and syrup in the air, the faint touch of dog fur…

“Here you go, Effie.” Peeta said. It was loud. It was loud but she couldn’t tell if it was because he was trying to get her attention or because of the hissing sound in her ears.

Her fingers were shaking but she kept smiling as she reached for the now ripped open package. She smiled when she saw what was inside though and it helped chase the memories away.

Darling little outfits, small hats and soft headbands…

She piled them up next to the box, her smile growing more genuine with every new item she took out.

“Guess you’re getting a change of clothes, shrimp.” Haymitch snorted, venturing closer.

There were a few other things in the box: a mobile with stars and unicorns, some practical items they already had but in pink this time around and a lot of glittery fuchsia pacifiers that immediately caught Haymitch’s attention.

“Fabulous.” he teased her.

She pouted. “I am not sure I want her to use a pacifier. We will have trouble training her off it.”

He handed the baby to Peeta who readily took her to go sterilize one with a shrug. “Let’s see if she likes it first.”

Her pout deepened but she kept her peace, gently tracing circles on April’s tummy. The baby was happy in Peeta’s arms, probably because she knew the boy was already wrapped around her little finger. She would be a charmer, this one.

Effie thought Haymitch was only eager for her to use the pacifier because it was pink and glittery and because it would allow him a new range of jokes about how April was her mother’s daughter. And, naturally, April took to the pink sparkling monstrosity with delight.

Haymitch smirked and Effie rolled her eyes.

“Don’t you dare.” she warned before he could comment. She scooped her daughter up and nodded at the clothes. “Help me get those up to the nursery, will you?”

Once everything was upstairs and she had April on the changing table, she faltered a little. So far, Haymitch had been the one taking care of diapers and outfits because she had been confined to her bed. Her manicured nails were no help in that matter and she struggled to change her diaper – all the while wrinkling her nose at the mess – disgusted by it all.

“I think you will be in charge of diaper changing from now on.” she declared, when Haymitch wheeled the crib back in the nursery as she had asked.

“No way, sweetheart.” He shook his head. “That’s shared duty.”

He pressed a kiss against her neck and waved at April over her shoulder.

“Do not kiss me when I smell like baby poop.” she grumbled.

“It’s still poop.” he snorted. “Adding baby before it doesn’t make much of a difference.”

She pursed her lips at him but finished dressing April in a brand new red romper with little white dots and a green rigged collar that made her look like a little strawberry. She added its matching little green hat.

“You look darling.” she declared with a bright smile.

“Please, tell me you’re not going to dress her up every day like a doll.” he scoffed. “Cause what went for a boy… We agreed on how we wanted to raise our kid. You’re not going to try and turn her into a crazy fashion person, yeah?”

She frowned at him, not really pleased with the assumption.

“I simply want her to look pretty.” she replied. “Is that wrong?”

“As long as we’re clear she doesn’t have to be proper and shit.” he warned. “Say, when she’s older she likes pants better… Or running outside… Or climbing trees…”

“She will do what she wants.” she cut him off. “Except climbing trees. That sounds very unsafe.” She waved her hand to dismiss that, keeping her other one of April’s stomach to avoid any incident – all the books agreed you should never leave a baby unattended on a changing table. “I want her to be everything she wants to be. That does not mean I am not hoping to give her some sort of fashion sense.” She gave him a small shrug. “Besides, she is little still and I like dressing her in cute outfits. Where is the harm?”

“There’s none as long as you remember she’s not a toy or an accessory.” he replied.

She shot him a glare. “I do not like what you are implying.”

She knew what he was implying though. Capitols used their children that way. They left them to nannies to be brought up and only took them out to be seen and marveled at. Capitol children, in the elite, were little more than human dolls.

Effie had never wanted her own children to be raised in that way.

His grey eyes flickered from her to April and back. He winced. “Sorry.”

“Yes, I believe you ought to be.” she huffed, carefully lifting her daughter up to place her in her crib before opening the dresser’s drawer. She needed to sort the clothes they had bought. Some could be kept but others had clearly been meant for a boy and wouldn’t do. “Honestly.”

Arms wrapped around her mid-section and his nose nuzzled her neck.

“I’m just…” he hesitated. “I’m feeling a bit… overprotective. She’s so small and…” He shrugged awkwardly. “Look… I was ready for a boy and… Girls seem more like your territory than mine.”

She rolled her eyes at his stupidity. “Have you forgotten Katniss and Johanna? Because I guarantee you are better at handling them than I am.”

“Different.” he scoffed. “They’re…”

“They look up to you and they love you just like our daughter will.” she interrupted. “It is not so different. You will do fine with a girl and I won’t make my mother’s mistakes. We will… We will learn. We will manage. Together. Isn’t that what you promised me?”

He brushed his fingers on the butterfly resting over her collarbone. “Yeah.” He dropped a kiss on her shoulder. “Yeah, we will.”

“Good.” she answered. “Now help me, would you? This house is in complete disarray.”

Truth be told, it wasn’t that bad and she knew that her cleaning impulses had more to do with how unsettled she felt that day. She managed to sort through the clothes while he fixed the mobile on the crib – without waking April up and that was a feat – but doing some actual cleaning proved to be difficult.

They tested the baby monitor at least ten times but neither of them could take more than two steps out of the nursery without freaking out. The idea that April would be by herself… It was far too much to bear.  

In the end, they leaned against the corridor’s wall, shoulder to shoulder, their arms brushing against each other.

“That’s gonna be a problem.” he remarked eventually.

“We are very deranged people.” she sighed. “She is fine. I know she is fine.” She looked at the monitor in her hand. “What is wrong with us?”

“We lost too much.” he said quietly.

Snowball wandered by, stared at them for a moment and then paddled in the nursery. Effie followed, immediately alarmed that he would try to steal something from the crib again and accidentally crush their daughter to death but, instead, the dog lied down next to it. An animal shield.

“Good boy.” she whispered and Snowball rolled on his back in answer, presenting his belly to rub. She humored him. “Very good job, my pretty baby. You stay here and keep watch.”

It probably wasn’t the healthiest idea and some people would have argued that it wasn’t safe to leave a baby with an animal but…

She knew with every fiber of her being that the puppy would never hurt their daughter. He would stay there and protect, just like he was trained to do.

The fact that Snowball was with April actually allowed them to wander a little further. They kept to the first floor though, wary of going downstairs, and they regularly peeked inside the nursery despite the baby monitor remaining silent.

She used the vacuum cleaner and mopped the floors… She gave Haymitch instructions that he did not follow at all… He was a hindrance. Instead of doing what he was told – never quite interested in chores – he distracted her with kisses and wandering hands.

“You are aware a baby kills one’s sexuality, yes?” she grinned up at him. As soon as the bed had been made, he had pushed her down on it – so she would rest, as he had put it, but there had been more kissing than resting. “Not that anything of that sort will happen any time soon.”

She wasn’t sure how long exactly the bleeding would last but she knew it was supposed to be some time. And she felt so tender down there that… No. They wouldn’t have sex in the immediate future.

“Not for us.” he smirked. “Nothing can do that. We’re too good at it.”

She burst out laughing.

Because he was stupid and she loved him for it.  

At the first cry of her daughter, Effie was off the bed and in the nursery in a flash, quickly followed by Haymitch. She scooped April up and gently rocked her until she stopped crying, making her way to the rocking-chair. Sitting still wasn’t comfortable but a glance at the clock confirmed it was feeding time again. She knew it was important to try and keep to a schedule.

Haymitch didn’t quite watch. He crouched and played with Snowball, sometimes glancing up but still somehow ill-at-ease with breastfeeding. She thought it was idiotic. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen her breasts a million times. What was so disconcerting about it?

He brushed it off when she asked, mumbled something about it being weird – she didn’t try to pry further, she figured it had something to do with his own fondness for sucking on her nipples.

Once April was fed and calm once more, they were at a loss.

It was difficult to find a sense of normalcy. Neither of them was sure of what to do. Carrying on with their lives seemed unthinkable, not when they had a baby to take care of. In the end, they ended up in the living-room, watching their daughter who was happily falling back asleep in the baby seat, taking turn running errands around the house. At some point, she answered the phone and had to force herself not to sound rude or impatient when her mother kept her a lot longer than she would have liked.

Larcher usually arrived around five and she kept glancing at the clock, her anxiety levels rising with each passing minute. When the doctor finally showed up, she was so nervous her hands were shaking.

She watched him examine their daughter and she saw the small wince when he checked her weight.

“We need to switch to formula.” she said before he could.

“Not switch.” Larcher temporized. “You can still feed her, Effie. We will give her formula in addition to breastfeeding.”

He asked questions. How many times April fed day and night, at which approximate times, when it was the most difficult for Effie to produce milk… She let Haymitch answer most of those questions, forcing herself to keep a smile on her lips and resolutely ignoring the worried glances the two men were giving her.

She let Haymitch walk the doctor back to the door and crouched in front of the coffee table where the baby seat was placed. April’s blue eyes stared straight at her, so bright and trusting… Her smile softened into something genuine if a little sad. She dropped a kiss on her forehead and walked away to lean against the couch and look through the window.

The baby started crying almost as soon as she left her sight.

Haymitch tossed her a puzzled look when he came back, clearly not understanding why she was letting their daughter cry. He immediately picked her up, struggling a little with the pacifier when he tried to give it back to her… Effie closed her eyes when she heard April starting to calm down.

“Effie…” he sighed.

She felt him come closer and she let him. She let him because what was the alternative? Running away? If she did she wasn’t sure she would ever stop. Leaving April behind would devastate her but there was a tenacious little voice at the back of her head that whispered that it might be best, that their daughter didn’t need her, that…

“Why can’t I ever be enough?” she breathed out softly, almost too softly to be heard.

She had never been enough for her mother. She hadn’t been enough for the Capitol. She hadn’t been enough for Haymitch – not for a long time at least.

She had hoped that…

“Don’t think like that.” he rebuked her. “You’re more than enough.” She scoffed bitterly but he scowled and, before she could call out his lie, he forced the baby in her arms.  Making sure April was safe was instinctive, cradling her close was purely selfish… She loved feeling her against her chest. “You’re her everything.” he spat, harsh. He was always harsh with the important truths. “It’s not her fault she’s not getting enough to eat. It’s not your fault either. You want to blame someone, blame the assholes who tortured you. Fucking blame me. It’s not your fault.”

“I do not blame you.” she denied at once, searching his eyes.

He ignored her.

“Listen to me, sweetheart. You’re not gonna let this be a problem, alright?” he insisted. “We give her what she needs. No child of mine is gonna go to bed hungry, yeah?”

She wasn’t sure what he wanted to hear. He sounded a little on edge and she knew that the food issue was always a sensitive one.  

“I’m sorry…” she hesitated. She didn’t know what she was apologizing for: failing to feed April or his own insecurities being woken up by it.

“No.” He made a face. “Don’t… It’s not…” He sighed and rubbed his neck. “I meant if she needs more than you can give, it doesn’t mean you’re not enough for her, alright? ‘Cause… She loves you.”

“She is three days old.” she pointed out. “I am not sure…”

“You don’t see the way she looks at you.” he snorted. “You’re her whole world, Effie. Look…” April was looking at her, her tiny fist curling and uncurling as she sucked on the pacifier. It brought tears to her eyes because she loved her so much… “You’re enough. You’re more than fucking enough. You don’t have to ask yourself that stupid question ever again ‘cause you’re her whole fucking world.” She was so busy watching their daughter she almost startled when he wrapped his arms around her waist and propped his chin on her shoulder. “Mine too.” he mumbled awkwardly before pressing a kiss against the side of her neck.

She relaxed against his chest.

“You say the sweetest things, Haymitch, but I do wish you would mind your language.” she joked.

She expected him to make a joke of his own, to deflate the emotionally tense moment…

He kissed her temple instead, deadly serious. “It’s true.”

April made a small noise as if to agree with her father…

How could she not believe them?

[kaoruyogi]

First Lines Meme

I got tagged by @thevikingwoman, @galadrieljones, and @princessvicky01. Thank you, ladies!!! <3

Rules: List the first lines of your last 10 stories. See if there are any patterns. Then tag 10 of your favorite authors!

“Fucked Up” - How to Win Wars and Influence Nobles (Ch. 19) (coming really soon!)

Belle had bad habits. She had bad habits and she had vices. She touched her mouth too much. She occasionally talked for the sole purpose of filling the silence. She enjoyed cheese more than any one person had the right to do. She had a quick temper. She held grudges. She could be brutal and unreasonable.

She yammered on and on and on about her argument with Cullen as Dorian watched her pace. Unconcealed laughter danced in his gray eyes while she blathered about how angry she was, how obtuse Cullen was being, and how fucking stupid the entire fight had been. She would not allow the mage a word of counsel or retort as she recounted the play-by-play of the entire event in excruciating and undoubtedly biased detail. It was only when she collapsed in a cross-armed huff into the chair opposite his that he managed to ask her a question.

“Cake” - Cullen and Sera Friendship

“Eat it.”

“What did you put in this?”

“Things. And other things. Eat it.”

“Why did you bring this to me?”

“Maker’s hairy danglebag, just eat it, Commander Fuzzy Shoulders! It’s good, yeah? So put it in your face.”

“Oh Give Me a Home (Ch. 1)” - Old West/Wild West AU

The weight of the six-shooter on Cullen’s hip grounded him. He rested his right hand on his belt, fingertips brushing against that dark metal and ivory handle. A part of him hated standing out in the heat and the dust waiting for the daily stagecoach, though he did it every afternoon like clockwork.

He stood there, sweating under his hat, the wide brim of which bore the small mercy of keeping the sun from his amber eyes. He could feel more sweat beading under his arms, and he shuffled his stance to prevent the moisture from touching the smaller pistol tucked against his ribcage. The windless heat bore down on him like an old corpse, rank and heavy and stale. His office would not be much better when he returned. It would have even less airflow, if that was possible. He could not voice these complaints, however. Such was the nature of Solace in the Western Approach. Such was the nature of midday in the summer months. Such was the nature of his position as Sheriff of Val Sable, a small city named for its expanse of sand. Fitting.

“Brother Mine” - Cullen and Mia Rutherford Childhood

The first nips of autumn chilled the sunset air as Mia made her way toward the lake. She took all her shortcuts through wheat fields and herds of sheep and goats. She ran from the mean gaggle of geese in front of the Woodridges’ house, and they chased her for a little while, honking and shouting until she ducked through the far fence. She wished her feet were bare, but she remembered the last time she left muddy footprints in the house and wore her shoes.

“In His Arms” - Cullen Rutherford Fatherhood

Cullen’s neck was sore, but it was not sore enough to stop him from looking down. He had been watching his infant daughter sleep since her birth-swollen eyes had drifted shut. Tiny snores rattled out of her as she slept, and her small chest rose and fell beneath her swaddle.

She was perfect. Down to the speck of a mole on her cheek, she was perfect. She was perfect and she was his.

“Salt Air” - Cullen and Cassandra Friendship

The Waking Sea was not the largest sea in Thedas. Cullen knew that well enough. Their voyage would only last another week. Cullen knew that well enough. His entire life would be changed when they made landfall. Cullen knew that well enough.

Still, his nerves would not be calmed. Perhaps it was because he got seasick. Perhaps it was because he knew that he would stop taking lyrium once they made it to Haven. Perhaps it was because he was expected to command an army following his crushing failures in Kirkwall.

“Among the Bound” - Baby Templar Cullen

The library was, far and away, Cullen’s favorite place in the Circle tower. It may have been his favorite place in all of Ferelden. The sight of it and the scent of it and the way the air seemed to change when he crossed the threshold gave the place a grandiose mysticism that made his heart race. He grew closer to the Maker the closer he came to those books.

In the Circle, time was as material as it was immaterial. Cullen’s life was lived in a series of unvarying rituals and routines. As much as time passed, as much as things always seemed just on the cusp of changing, nothing ever really did. Every moment was planned and accounted for from before dawn until well after the fall of night. There was a time for reciting every Canticle of the Chant. There was a time for every meal. There was a time for every duty.

“The Blood of the Wicked” -  How to Win Wars and Influence Nobles (Ch. 18)

Hauling Samson from the Arbor Wilds to Skyhold was proving more problematic than Cullen had anticipated. The first problem was the limited cadre that would allow them to travel fast enough to get to Skyhold before any of Samson’s information became useless to the Inquisition. Due to their diminutive ranks, the soldiers alternated watch and guard shifts with the members of the inner circle who had not gone into the Temple of Mythal with Max. Not only was it a logistical complication, but Cullen was constantly forced to intervene when Sera decided she was going to kill Samson after he ran his mouth during her guard rotation.

And Samson did run his mouth. That was the second problem. It was all too likely that the man sought to get himself killed by one person or another before reaching Skyhold where his knowledge of Corypheus’s plans would be plucked from his skull by whatever means Max deemed appropriate. Samson pecked and gnawed at everyone around him, and was spat on an punched more than once for his efforts.

“War is Hell (And It’s Not Just a Fucking Cliche” -  How to Win Wars and Influence Nobles (Ch. 17)

Forced marches could suck a fucking dick. Better yet, they could suck two dicks and a left nut.

Belle’s entire body ached from tip to tail. Her head ached more the further south they marched because, apparently, there were still allergens in Thedas to compress her sinuses. Her neck, back, ass, crotch, and thighs ached from riding in the carriage and riding on horseback. She walked when she could, but she almost snapped her ankle on the third day and had to stop trying.

“This Happened Once Before” - Cullen x Belle Dream

“You should not be in here.”

Belle startled beside the kitchen fire, sending her half-eaten Orlesian bread roll hurtling into the fireplace and slamming closed the massive tome between her thighs. Her hand flew to her chest. “Jesus balls on a bike!” She hissed in a breath. “Fuck.”

Things I Noticed: I tend to start with dialogue or scene-setting. Sometimes, with the chaptered fic stuff, I’ll use the first few paragraphs to fill in the gaps between chapters. But it looks like I really like to paint a picture with the first few lines/paragraphs. I want the feeling of it to set in before we go too far. If there’s hear or exhaustion or inertia, I want my reader to have a sense of it.

Hmm.

It looks like most everyone I can think of at the moment has already been tagged, but if you haven’t and you wanna do it, I tag you!!!

[thong-in-the-twist]

Monster VII

You didn’t expect that, did you.

Series contain: blood, genocide, terror, occupation, torture, coldblood killing and I believe there is more to come.

Part I II III IV V VI

The thing is: you don’t fear death. Death is enigma, death is unknown, it’s human to fear the unknown. Death is uncertain, death is an unexplored territory. And yet, you don’t fear the death itself. 

You fear the act of dying. The moment of leaving the pitiful life behind you, leaving your country baptized with shells and gunpowder. Leaving your homeland when you have so much left to do, when your hands just started writing the new story, the story of independence.

You fear the aftermath of dying. Not for you, if you’ll end up in hell, then so be it, you wouldn’t change a thing in your life. But when you are gone, what will happen with those who are left behind? Will they survive the pain, will they hate you for leaving them alone in the misery?

You fear the pain. There is no such thing as a painless death. Death will come as a miscounted hit to the head, one of many, one too much, freeing you from the torture of living. Death will come as a bullet going through your skin, cells, organs, relentlessly, ruthlessly drilling its way. Death will come as a landmine, tearing your skin apart, adorning the road with your limbs. Death will come as a missile, maybe from your allies, destroying the roof over your head, burying you under the tones of concrete. Death will come as a famine, eating up your insides, clouding your head, yet bloating your stomach. Death will come as a smoke, filling your lungs, scraping the throat, irritating your eyes.

Death will come. You can either spend your life looking around your shoulder, fearing the astray bullet, or try to make the most of the time you were given.

Either way, bullet usually awaits ahead.

*

Wedding should be a bright, beautiful ceremony. It should be shared with friends and family, people you care about. It should be counted as one of the most memorable days of your life, with wild story from reception, little details you’ll share one day with your children.

You didn’t expect your wedding to be held in the living room of the person you barely know. Not really knowing the person that owns the flat is a blessing for you and the other person in case of being caught. Not knowing saves lives.

And you need to save as many as possible.

You didn’t expect your wedding ceremony to be held in secret, with curtains closed, the flickering lights of few candles illuminating your day. Gatherings mean trouble. You could have went to the wedding hall, you could have had your wedding in the broad daylight – sharing your day with the occupant, giving your happiness to the enemy.

Giving away your anonymity.

You didn’t expect your wedding dress to be a passed-on simple dress your mother wore on her wedding. You didn’t expect Kyungsoo walking you to the makeshift altar in place of your missing father. You didn’t expect Underground’s chaplain to be leading the ceremony.

You didn’t expect that one of your guests would be watching the ceremony in folding bed, because we wouldn’t be able to sit on his own.

You did not expect it, but it was your reality.

There was no singing, there was no celebrating.

But Jongdae was sure and he held your hand with ferocity, and finally his smile was as bright as it was before it all happen. You have finally felt the bubbling happiness in your gut, you couldn’t stop smiling, when he slipped the brusque silver band on your finger.

You didn’t get presents, but you didn’t expect them. You got smiles and you got warm words, and you got the amazing feeling of contributing. Even this wedding was an act of rebellion against the occupant.

You’ve made your decision, and you were ready to live by it. And live by Jongdae.

*

She is beautiful. She is wearing gloves and luxurious hat. She is tall and her hair is perfect.

She is a traitor.

It is obvious to everyone around – she is speaking your language perfectly, without any problems, and yet she isn’t poor.

She is sitting in a coffee shop. One of the few still left – no one really can afford going there. No one except for the traitors and collaborationists. And she is there, her perfect lipstick leaving red mark on white cup.

The successful exfiltration of Junmyeon was the first successful armed operation against the occupant. The emotional impact it had on your compatriots, whether those in Underground or civilians was enormous. At the same time repercussions where unheard of. During your action none of yours was injured, but you’ve killed nine blacks. Occupant government was furious and for every one of them they killed five hundred of civilians caught in the roundups.

The barest thought made you feel like crying.

But nonetheless. Kyungsoo’s unit did something that was thought to be impossible.

And because of that he and his unit (you included) were officially called to Underground’s Army. It was an honor, and every single one of you waited for the day when you’ll make your oath.

But before that, your unit was asked to take care of one very pressing problem.

Collaborationists.

You are standing on the other side of the square, looking at girl that sold her own country for a dress. You are not even angry, you just pity her.

There is a boy standing next to you, bouncing on his feet. He has yet to go through puberty, light hair falling into his eyes. You have to stop yourself from trying to brush it off his face. It would only hurt his pride, and he did not deserve that. Even though he was young, and he should be sitting at school, he was part of Ranks, underage resistance movement.

Even youngest where fighting.

You pat his arm, and he sends you a wide smile. You try to do the same, but it’s hard. You can understand what could happen to him, but the boy seems oblivious.

He just runs ahead, and crosses the  square and stops in the close vicinity of the beautiful woman. You see him clear his throat, and a second later clear voice reaches your ears.

A little red apple, Cut into quarters. Why are ye, gendarme, Frowning like that at me?

Geese over waters, Ducks over waters. They will catch you, girl Cause you are young.

Here comes the miss, Holding black’s arm. Very proud of it, Did she forget her own? Of your little daughter Aren’t you ashamed, father? They will catch you, girl You’ll be served by your own. You’ll be caught at gates By conspiracy boys. With a rusty knife They’ll shave you bold. He is sings boldly, even though there are blacks walking leisurely on the square – that’s the beauty of the occupation – they don’t speak your language, and they don’t even try to learn, having fixated upon eradicating your country’s culture and traditions. You can even see pair of them stopping to watch him, oblivious to the meaning of the song. Your compatriots are looking at the brave boy, too scared to stop and watch the performance, but you can tell that they straighten, while hearing the rebellious song.

The only person that seems to be outraged is the wealthy woman. You observe her closely, and you see a moment when she recognizes the melody – but her face when she hears changed lyrics is one of pure fury.

She stands up, cup on her table shaking threateningly.

Boy doesn’t care – his job is to convey the full message, and you know he is going to do so.

Geese over waters, Ducks over waters. You make a good snitch, Cause you are young.

If you have to turn in, You’ll turn everyone in. You’ll sell your country, For Black’s smile.

You are not sure who is author of this lyrics, but you know it won’t matter it the boy is caught. And you can see woman, searching the crowd angrily. When she finds a black uniform in the crowd and she makes a beeline for them.

Which sends a clear message that she thinks nothing of the boy’s warning. You catch boy’s eyes – you won’t do anything stupid like nod to him or give him a sign – there is nothing more stupid than showing people around your co-conspirators.

You turn around, and walk away, boy’s song following you down the street.

If shaving doesn’t work Our boys will bring you flowers Roses in one hand Rifle in another.

Geese over waters, Ducks over waters, They’ll shoot you, miss Though you are young.

You won’t turn in today, Won’t turn in tomorrow. There is no use In dead snitch.

[cw-as-fieldresearch]

Three weeks in - here’s what’s happening at TVC!

Hi everyone!

Well, I make no promises about a consistent blog, but how about periodic updates? The first stretch here was pretty busy – the problem with doing work in the snow is that you never know when it is going to disappear, so there was a lot of rushing to get our snow work done! A few weeks later and it has still barely melted … hence, we have time for things like a big update on what we’ve been up to. Let’s start at the beginning!

We had a beautiful trip up here – an overnight in Vancouver, which was sunny and beautiful and blooming – it almost made me not want to head north to winter again! There we got to catch up with a whole bunch of Cory’s friends at an amazing potluck, and I got my all-time favourite espresso beverage, the Spanish Latte. The next day brought us to one of my favourite cities, Whitehorse. Cory has only had really brief stopovers in the city, so we spent the afternoon wandering around the awesome trails along the Yukon River, and admiring all of the sights of pretty frozen rivers and snow-topped mountains in balmy 8 degree (Celsius) weather. The next day was an early morning start to take the milk run to Inuvik. We jumped aboard the good old reliable Air North Hawker Siddley, and hopped from Inuvik -> Dawson City -> Old Crow -> Inuvik. We lost the spring weather pretty quickly en route – still in the -20 degree (Celsius) range once we landed in Inuvik!

We had a few days in Inuvik to get organized, and on April 19th we hit the trails with a couple ski-doos dragging toboggans full of our gear for a 3 hour trip into camp (midway between Inuvik and Tuktoyaktuk)! Cory started off with a bang – before we even left the boundaries of town, Cory launched his ski-doo and toboggan over a snow bank and caught at least 4 feet of air, and still managed to stick the landing. Apparently the large bump pushed him into the throttle. A very dramatic start to his snowmobiling career! Things were much less exciting for the remainder of the trip – just a lot of really beautiful sights as we travelled from the north edge of the boreal forest into the tundra!

We’ve been kept well through the worst of the cold and it’s just going to get warmer from here (we hope). Cory and I have been very grateful for our army surplus purchased sleeping bags – so toasty every night, no matter how cold it has been! The first few nights in camp we had some darkness, and with darkness in the north comes auroras! There were some pretty spectacular auroras that only lasted for a maybe a minute one night, but in that minute we saw greens, reds, and purples dancing right across the sky! Not long after that night and complete darkness became a thing of the past – no more dark for the tundra until August.

Science progressed slowly but surely, and the very slow snowmelt worked in our favour. We had three main projects that we wanted to get done before snowmelt:

1)      Take a bunch snow cores from shrub patches to count seed in the snow (green alder drops its seed over the winter, so that’s the best place to find its seed)

2)      Snow survey (aka measure snow depth and density) across a bunch of shrub patches and Cory’s snow fence that he set up to test aspects of the snow-shrub hypothesis that is a pretty big deal in the tundra shrub world

3)      Measure the temperature at the snow-ground interface

As with most science, we had our fair share of hiccups – Cory and I came to hate the snow tube that we use to take snow cores. Sometimes the snow would get stuck in it and we would lose a bunch of time trying to get it out, or the “plug” of soil that it usually grabs would get stuck too and be impossible to get out, or we would just hit a thick layer of “wind slab” in the snow that was almost impenetrable by the corer and took ages to get through. And then there was the first snow pit that we dug to measure the temperature at the snow-ground interface – the darn thing was 160 cm deep! It takes awhile to dig that deep in snow! We aren’t talking light fluffy stuff either, it takes some serious chipping to get through some layers! This insanely dense snow is what makes igloos so much easier to build here than in more southern snow though – we pulled out some pretty awesome snow bricks.

I was really surprised at how different the snow is here from what I’ve seen at Scotty Creek (near Fort Simpson, NWT). There is so much more variability across the landscape on the tundra – some areas are hardly 15 cm deep, and other areas you get several meters! When there’s nothing but hills, low vegetation, and a whole lot of wind over the winter, you get some serious snow movement and drifting.  One of the other really neat things is the ice fog – beautiful, shimmering ice fog that leaves the most amazing frosty crystals on everything it touches! I can’t get enough of the intricacy of the crystals. We also have gotten some cool variability in the shape of the snowflakes that fall. Apparently the usual thing for up here are these tiny little snow columns that fall (they look like delicate little sprinkles), but when it got milder we got perfect little traditional snowflakes. Very pretty!

There’s been a little bit of wildlife around camp – we had a fox (“Monty”) who was a bit of a regular around camp, but we spooked it off with a bear banger when it started to get into garbage. He was quite the beautiful fella, and I got some awesome pictures of him. One morning he even posed for me in front of a stunning early morning sun dog! There are a ton of ptarmigans around, ladel-ladel-ladelling through the night, and the usual ravens occasionally flying over. The past week all of the migratory birds have started flocking back in mass though – Canadian geese, snow geese, sandhill cranes, and loons have all started making overhead appearances! I don’t know where they’re all going to go right now considering everything around us is still snow/ice covered, but it’s a welcome sign of “spring” anyway. There was a grizzly bear sighting a few kilometers away from camp, and some big grizzly tracks through the snow in Trail Valley Creek itself, but no major threats to camp.

We went out on a big ice fishing expedition awhile ago to the Husky Lakes – this is the place where I had hiked to last summer (a 3.5 hour hike) and caught lake trout and arctic grayling. The snowmobile trip was soooo much easier of course, but our fishing was not so successful – we only caught tiny little sea monsters (sculpin). It was still a very lovely relaxing day after Cory and I had been putting in some very long days of fieldwork for 10 days non-stop.

Life around camp has been great. There have been some great improvements to camp this year, like incinerating toilets that actually work effectively (thanks Incinolet!) and a stellar little propane stove/oven that has been well used. One of the perks of winter work is actually having meat in camp, so we’ve had meals featuring roast beef, chicken parmesan, steaks, and soooo much bacon for breakfast! We’ve done a fair bit of baking too – cookies, cakes, muffins, biscuits, peach crumble, quiche, and pizza! It’s a pretty awesome place to be all-around.

I think that covers all of the highlights of our fieldwork adventures so far. Now that we have down time while we’re waiting for the snow to melt, Cory and I are going to work on writing some papers that need our attention – much less exciting than playing in the snow, but it’s gotta happen!

Until next time!

-Ana and Cory

[coneshotline]

LABOUR 1945-2010

of bennites and blairites, of infighting and shitflinging, of pretentious blurbs and italic text

here, have some really old mixes (made in about 2012 i think)...i don't even like some of the bands featured any more but i'm too lazy to change it. i actually only finished one of these the other day! so yes, only 'drowning men' has been published before but the other has been 99% complete for years now...blame those mmmm [smacks lips] depressive episodes

1945-1979 | 1979-2010

tracklist/liner notes under the cut

1945-1979

in our bedroom after the war - stars (out of the rubble)

it's us - yes, we're back again, here to see you through, 'til the day's end and if the night comes, and the night will come, well at least the war is over

lift your head and look out the window stay that way for the rest of the day and watch the time go listen! the birds sing! listen! the bells ring! all the living are dead, and the dead are all living the war is over and we are beginning

childhood memories - british sea power (1945 labour government - the new dawn)

and a little electricity won't hurt and no a little electricity won't hurt especially when we're all out of gas and coal and oil, and steel and cash but a little electricity won't hurt and no a little electricity won't hurt

against agamemnon - the mountain goats (clement attlee)

red, red, red everywhere bright red all along the thin canvas wall i stepped outside for a little air i stepped outside to get away from it all

one way - the levellers (aneurin bevan)

my father when i was younger took me up on to the hill that looks down on the city smog and above the factory spill he said, "now this is where i come when i wanted to be free" but he never was in his lifetime, but these words stuck with me

the velocity of saul at the time of his conversion - okkervil river (an unceremonious defeat)

the audience is tired, "we've had enough fire, we're entering the age now of ice" and i, feeling older, pull off to the shoulder and wonder, with my head in my hands, should i call my wife

and say "enough 'you and i,' enough of 'the fight' enough of 'prevail' or 'walk in the light' while the angels stood by i got high as a kite too tired to smile or know that i'm right

machine - regina spektor (hugh gaitskell)

i count all my blessings i have friends in high places and i'm upgraded daily all my wires without traces

hooked into machine

we were wasted - the leisure society (bevanites)

and from the flat above the square we watch our comrades bare their teeth, their souls, their flesh

we were wasted son we were wasted all on the ride from the nightclub to our drive all the way we sang

the pioneers - tunng (bloc party cover) (gaitskellites)

if it can be broke then it can be fixed if it can be fused then it can be split it's all under control

if it can be lost then it can be won if it can be touched then it can be turned all you need is time

so here we are reinventing the wheel i'm shaking hands with a hurricane it's a colour that i can't describe it's a language i can't understand ambition tearing out the heart of you carving lines into you dripping down the sides of you

we will not be the last

easy lucky free - bright eyes (the disarmament debate)

i set my watch to the atomic clock i hear the crowd count down 'til the bomb gets dropped i always figured that there’d be time enough i never let it get me down, but i can’t help it now

weeping willow - the hush sound (deaths and rebirth)

there will be a tomorrow the sun will light a sea of sorrow tonight it set and took our friend if i could do one thing, i'd bring him back snow won't stick to the weeping willows

maybe, this time - ok go (harold wilson)

you've spent your entire life quick-tongued and always right hasn't being right just let you down?

soft revolution - stars (1964 labour government - hopes and dreams)

we are here to save your life the fool, the drunk, the child, and his wife

we are here to take the blame to take the taunts and lift the shame

and after changing everything they couldn't tell we couldn't sing

joan of arc - arcade fire (barbara castle)

you had a vision they couldn't see so they put you down but everything that you said would happen it came around and they're the ones that put you down 'cause they got no heart but i'm the one that will follow you you're my joan of arc

speed the collapse - metric (devaluation of the pound)

every warning we ignored, drifting in from distant shores the wind presents a change of course, a second reckoning of sorts

hope on fire - vienna teng (the workers united)

gotta fight gotta strike 'cause there's no turning away from what you don’t want to know

gotta change rearrange something’s bending to break it’s just a matter of when

burning up - ladytron (born again tony benn)

i wrote a protest song about you, about you set off on the long march without you, without you

i set myself on fire without you, without you i wrote a protest song about you, about you

so many things worth burning for

sonnet - hundred waters (from 'sonnet' by percy bysshe shelley) (1974 labour government - a radical promise)

through the unheeding many he did move a splendour among shadows, a bright blot upon this gloomy scene, a spirit that strove for truth, and like the preacher found it not

white winter hymnal - fleet foxes (michael foot)

i was following the pack all swallowed in their coats with scarves of red tied 'round their throats to keep their little heads from falling in the snow and i turned 'round and there you go and michael, you would fall and turn the white snow red as strawberries in the summertime

half day closing - portishead (the counterattack)

underneath the faded sun the silent sum of the businessman has left us choking

dreams and belief have gone time, life itself goes on

the last living rose - pj harvey (the failed referendum)

goddamn europeans take me back to beautiful england and the gray, damp filthiness of ages and battered books and fog rolling down behind the mountains on the graveyards and dead sea-captains

past the thames river, glistening like gold hastily sold for nothing, nothing

if it is growing - fanfarlo (wilson resigns)

your memory's failing your eyes are like rocks and i can see you on the floor of your box

you've got answers in everyone is electric circuits and that's all there is

then here's the irony no one will know if it's tomorrow or today that you go

caliber - wintersleep (jim callaghan)

you drive the exact speed limit keep of a track of your mile listening to radio music smiling when everyone else smiles you should take a beating willing do it in the name of the cause do it for the feeling that one day maybe you can be your own boss maybe get a beautiful woman get a fat piece of land get a couple of kids a prototypical civilian housing towards the future mining towards the sun you keep your caliber loaded no one's gonna fuck this up

electioneering - radiohead (the loan)

it's just business, cattle prods and the imf i trust i can rely on your votes

beggars - bombay bicycle club (lib-lab pact)

your guard isn't on, your barriers open your words have now got the whole town waiting my army is down, my company old and leaving quiet and burned

riding a fleet of beggars and cons taking it back, it won't be long

isles - little comets (winter of discontent)

leeds screaming bristol torn belfast and hull forlorn oxford dreaming in denial with all its gleaming spires

stoke bleeding glasgow yawns dundee and cardiff mourn york breaking sheffield cries all fears are multiplied

elephant gun - beirut (vote of no confidence)

if i was young i'd flee this town i'd bury my dreams underground as did i, we drink to die, we drink tonight

take the big game down

we used to wait - arcade fire (election '79)

now our lives are changing fast hope that something pure can last

the red flag - billy bragg (to the future)

though cowards flinch and traitors sneer we'll keep the red flag flying here

1979-2010

bye bye bye - school of seven bells (the beginning of the end)

after the great flood, all washed away, i still stayed

one by one 'til there's nothing left of you one by one by one by one

you and i are a gang of losers - the dears (old labour begets new)

every single one of us is getting massacred on a frozen path fever comes to wipe us out and scratch your name off of a list

you and i are on the outside of almost everything you and i are on the other side of almost everything

red right hand - nick cave & the bad seeds (tony benn)

he's a ghost, he's a god, he's a man, he's a guru

you're one microscopic cog in his catastrophic plan designed and directed by his red right hand

life - dai (benn vs healey)

instrumental

he dreams he’s awake - stars (michael foot, landslide defeat, and the wilderness years)

sunrise, oh sunrise, when will you ever come? sunrise, oh sunrise, when will the night be gone? it won't let me go

from red to blue - billy bragg (labour, miners, and militant)

i hate the compromises life forces us to make we must all bend a little if we are not to break but the ideals you've opted out of, i still hold them to be true i guess they weren't so firmly held by you

the geese of beverly road - the national (labour's rebranding and 80s excesses)

we'll take ourselves out in the street and wear the blood in our cheeks like red roses

we're the heirs to the glimmering world

illuminated red - the accidental (kinnock and mandelson)

and illuminated red - and illuminated white instead like a red sock burning through my table; lying in my bed

oblivion - patrick wolf (kinnock and mandelson, pt. 2)

oh my stubborn son, i know that you said you need no one don't you see danger, danger, danger, headed to oblivion?

our hell - emily haines & the soft skeleton (new labour/john smith)

we're moderate, we modernize 'til our hell is a good life all we know is to forget how to do right

colouring in the black hole

overture - patrick wolf (tony blair)

it's wonderful what a smile can hide if the teeth shine bright and it's nice and wide

titan arum - foals (gordon brown)

you see assassins on the walkway home you eat yourself from bones to bones, to tongues to toes contractors nor the council can find the time to piece your head again

drowning men - fanfarlo (the new labour ouroborous)

even though the lights have changed i'm caught up in an endless loop we spend our time with drowning men, we're going to let ourselves get dragged down

do you want the truth or something beautiful - paloma faith (landslide victory)

do you want the truth or something beautiful? just close your eyes and make believe do you want the truth or something beautiful? i am happy to deceive you

destroy everything you touch - ladytron (brown and mandelson)

anything that may desert you so it cannot hurt you destroy everything you touch today destroy me this way

bright bright bright - dark dark dark (blair, to mandelson)

you always cared for me, that was easy enough to see you always cared for me, and i pushed you in the dark and i wanted to tell you, i wanted to tell you but i lie, i lie, oh i lie, i lie i hurt myself, i hurt myself nearly as much as i hurt you

you and whose army - radiohead (blairites and brownites)

come on, come on, you think you drive me crazy well, come on, come on, you and whose army you and your cronies

masters of war - bob dylan (iraq, pt. 1)

you fasten all the triggers for the others to fire then you set back and watch

celebration guns - stars (iraq, pt. 2)

desert wind and a perverse desire to win history buried in shame

then the next day, how will you know your enemy? by their colour or your fear? one by one we can cage them in your freedom make them all disappear

my hands grow darker every day

claws off - margot and the nuclear so and sos (blair and brown)

if you wanna go, get lost if you wanna stay, shut up

wine red - the hush sound (brown takes over)

the sea is wine red, this is the death of beauty the doves have died, the lovers have lied

monster love - goldfrapp (brown and mandelson, redux)

i never thought i would return to be consumed by you again

everything comes around bringing us back again here is when we start and where we end

weekend away - tunng (the end)

wander through the wreckage all is said and done faces dance in the light

forget those days, they've gone

mykonos - fleet foxes (david miliband and ed miliband)

and you will go to mykonos with a vision of a gentle coast and a sun to maybe dissipate shadows of the mess you made

when out walking, brother, don't you forget it ain't often that you'll ever find a friend

[tristanlovesthequeen]

Son/of/Aragon

Son of Aragon

Episode 1

We find Basels son Sergio on horseback on the path to the brewery. There are moths and pollen in the air, everywhere there is beauty. The world whispers.  

Besel:  Hello, dear reader, I am Basel the ancient wizard.  I have gone on holiday, away from general wizardry and heroism to stay with my dear friends.  Who are they?  The elven monks who run the brewery Eastvleteran, the namesake of which is also a drink which I helped invent.

(Enter into Basel's chamber where he is working on an illuminated manuscript.  Tic toc tic toc a timer is ticking in the background. The timer dings)!

Basel:  Ahh time for dinner to be cooked.  (Puts rabbit chunks in pot of stew.  Sets aside rabbit skin in a bowl).  That will be for the rabbit skin glue.  We'll let that churn a bit.  Ah yes, now back to my manuscript.  What's the occasion you say?  Behold...(Basel sits at desk, page zooms in on manuscript page.

(In story mode)

Basel:  It all started with an empty amulet.  The amulet was a gift from the elven god Adrifan, god of the ether realm to his love interest, the the high priestess of the celts, Apixa.  Her beauty was reknowned throughout heaven and earth.  She was born of this world from the stamen of a forest flower, fertilized by a sacred spirit, who was rebirthed as a bee on his visit from the heavens.  Her family were the fairies who lived in the woods that encapsulated this forest flower.  The elf found her one day while hunting geese at a nearby pond.  He saw her amongst the tall reeds bathing.  It was love at first sight.  You may wonder what this has to do with anything.  It is an ancient elven secret that the monks have kept.  On every anniversary of the meeting of Adrifan and Apixa, a warrior who is righteous in spirit and will retrieve the amulet from the sacred place, and return it to the elven kingdom for the ceremony of restoration.  The transporters of the heart will receive knighthood in the elven kingdom and the ceremony brings purity back to the elves.

  (Three raps at the door and  Basel answers to find Sergio at the door).  

Basel:  Sergio my boy!  I've been expecting you!  Come right in, you are most welcome.

(Sergio is not the only one looking for Basel.  A demi-vampire has been  following Sergio through the woods in the form of a bat).  

Sergio and Basel sit down to Mugwort tea.  

Sergio:  (Holding cup).  How have you been pop?  

Basel:  (Takes sip).  I'm glad you asked.  It was happenstance that I found myself in Whimzleton at the National Gallery in a meeting with the portraits of the Greats.  While discussing Fair Trade Diamonds, a thief stole a minor work called “Reclining Nude of Grizelda,” done by the late fauvist painter Rees Van Livingston, c. 1905.  He was attacked by a museum guard with a billyclub, poor boy, and as he fell, he ripped right through the canvas face first.  This, of course, was in front of the fair trade diamond protest of the gnomes of the North, which is why I was there in the first place. The leader of the protest started to shout on his blowhorn, which aggrivated the guard.  People started to argue which was disrupting my meeting, and, before a riot could assue, I cast a spell to freeze time.  I cast another spell that healed the thief, flawlessly stitched the painting, and wiped the memories of the crowd.  When the authorities arrived, everyone was very confused as to why the thief was carrying the painting through the museum in the first place, casually observing the main hall.  He was arrested on the spot and the painting was returned to the museum, an amalgam of errors easily removed.

Stake:  (Arrives at window as a bat). Screech Screech!

Basel:  (Noticing window). Stake!  Show your true form my lad, you could have given an old wizard like me a cardiac arrest!  Not that I would succumb to such candor.  (Opens door).

(The bat turns into his elf-like form).

Basel:  Ah good, just in time for supper.  Stake, would you come in?

Stake:  I thought you'd never ask.  

Basel:  (Takes sip from ladle over stove).  Please sit, the rabbit stew is ready.  (Places a bowl of stew in front of Sergio and one in front of Stake with a spoon.  Sergio begins to slurp).

Sergio:  How do you two know each other?

Basel:  Stake is a knight here on elven territory.

Sergio:  Then why was he...(motions toward window).

Stake:  I am also part vampire.  I'd say, half elf, half vampire. Dema-elf.  After all my years as a knight, I have been assigned this year to retrieve the sacred amulet due to my condition as a vampire. After the way my wife and I were transformed, the elven society believes my life to be unhealthy.  The constant blood lust is the source of constant ridicule for my fellow knights, however shallow it may be.  So I have come to find you, Sergio, to accompany me on this quest.

Basel:  The high priestess has given me a wind chime that enchants the spirit, allows one to see the location of the amulet, the prize gift from the warrior spirit.  I will be your guide.

Sergio:  Wait what?  I was eating soup.  

Basel:  I said you're going on this trip, it will be a great diservice to everyone if--

Sergio:  Relax, I heard you the first time.  Why me?

Stake:  Given your superior strengths as a wizard--

Sergio:  Yeah, I got ya, very powerful mage, yadda yadda, when do we leave?

(They set off on their journey  Sergio on a giant lion.  Stake is a bat.  First location is the forest.  They travel along the coast and stop for the night).

Stake:  Let's stop for the night, we'll resume tomorrow.  

Sergio:  Oh you mean we'll be alive tomorrow?  Super.

Stake:  Mmmaybe.  I will.  You might not make it.

(Stake and Sergio set up camp and Stake start to read by the fire).

Sergio:  (In a thought bubble).  Sometimes I start to read and realize the words are about me.  Take for example, this part of the book.  This actually happened to me.  I must be famous or something.

(In the text)  There was one time when I tried to get Satan Himself to help stop my pop from controlling Earth realm.  He was offended. And when Satan is offended, all hell breaks loose, literally.

(Sergio hides behind a 1968 Pontiac GTO waiting to attack.  Bullets fly over him.  He is in Hell.  Hell looks like a cavern underneath the earth.  He pops up and shoots flame from his hands at his attacker who is Satan.  

Satan leaps into the air with a tommy gun narrowly avoiding Sergio's attack.  He lands in a drop kick knocking Sergio flat.

Sergio kip ups and one of Satan's minions tries to run him over in an El Dorado Super Sport.  Sergio back flips over the car and it t-bones into the shelled out GTO.  The minion is dead, smashed through the glass, on the hood.

Sergio:  Just come with me politely and I won't fry you to a crisp.

Satan:  What am I a cuck, Sergee?  How long have I known thee?

The devil spins into the air letting out a spiral of bullets.

Serge leaps under the devil, grabs his legs and slams him into the hood of the GTO with a cold shoulder.  

Satan: Yowee!!

Sergio:  You goddamn snake!  Keep off me!

(They roll off the hood of the car and the devil gun butts Sergio's jaw.  Serge puts his two hands to the devil's gut and torches him up into the air.  Faroosh!  Cut to devil's face, it says radio edit over his mouth like a type writer.  Devil lands on his feet with a crunch! It cracks the ground).  

Satan:  You think you can contain me?  I am the devil!

Serge snaps his fingers and a diver's cage drops on the devil.  

Satan:  Daww. (Slumps in cage) So anyways... (walks out of cage through front door).  May I offer you a cigar?  (Take out couple of cigars).

Sergio:  Naw I don't smoke.  Spits.  Wipes mouth.

Satan:  If you say you don't.  What is it that you want me to do Sergio?  (Checks scratch on arm).  

Sergio:  It's my Dad, he's attempting to take over Earth realm again.  I need--

Satan: Eh, you want.

Sergio: I want you to come serve him up a slice of devil's pie.

Satan:  With you?  Please, Sergee, what a bum you're being.  Who am I with?  I live in hell!  I'm the guy that never leaves, y'know Prince of Darkness, has wife, grandkids, little brats, minions, y'know the whole shebang.  What do I care what goes on on Earth?  I live in the immortal afterrealm.  You're threatening my whole way of being, here.

Sergio:  Don't be a dipshit.  The more deaths there are on earth caused on Earth by my father, the larger his undead army will become, his army will become stronger while your army diminishes.

Satan:  What has he lost his shit again?  In other words hell on earth.  Look kid, I'm already slaying princess Leia, my army of minions is well established and only really comes in handy when fighting against the heavens.  Hell on Earth?  Let those guys deal with it (points upward)

Sergio:  Forget I even asked.  Thanks for the fight.

Stake:  (In a thought bubble).  I have on occasion, dealt with the devil, and like all full blooded vampires, he only cares for himself.  

Sergio:  (In a thought bubble).  Can't say I care for him.   (Voice bubble) One thing I have been meaning to ask you, can't believe I didn't get around to it sooner, you're a daywalker right?  (Lays back on Leo).

Stake:  Correct.  I would consider myself half elf.  That is elven born.  It is for this reason that I haven't completely been overcome by vampire desires.  (Fades to dream)  In 1869 I was to be married to an elven princess.  Her beauty was unparalleled.   We were madly in love and would often take trysts in the forest where we would... shag about.  I was to travel off to war with the elven army, the king had made plans with the gnomes to sell one thousand pieces of elven chain mail and they had scoffed at his offer, saying gnomish grade metal would suffice.  On top of that a gnome had seduced an elvish chambermaid during his stay at a hospital on our land.  Needless to say, a victorian era elven king is not the most easygoing person hood, and in the face of the gnomes' offense, he called for a draconian response.  Before we set off, and before she could pout, I asked her to be my bride.  She said yes!  I was so enthusiastic I asked for the royal hall to throw a ball after the wedding ceremony. That night, as my wife lay awake in anticipation.

Vive:  I desire, half crack!  A vampire in the form of a bat sat outside her window.  

Vampire:  Dear little, wife, how my soul aches for thee.  It is I, Pavel, ahem I mean Stake, wouldn't you care to see me before the wedding.  I can give you what you desire...

Vive:  No you can't! (crosses arms and starts to pout)

(Door starts to open with a creak)

SERGIO:  Wait, what?  A vampire, that seems a tad bit random.  

STAKE:  Almost.  In a battle with Aragon's army, I had decapitated a warrior king.  I later found out that with a few stitches and Aragon's magic he had been ressurected as a vampire-drago, vampire of dragon blood.  From then on he had been stalking us, I had felt evil eyes watching from afar, feeling his cries that he would someday come for my bride.

SERGIO:  Devilish.  So she turned into a vampire?

STAKE:  Yesssss.  Unfortunately the bite on her neck is not all he left with.  (Stake looks down and tears start to fall from his wincing face).  I still recognized her as my bride as did the royal court and that night we attended the royal ball although shaken by the events prior to the wedding.  She seemed faint and not all there. Frowns were upon us.  

Ball attendee 1:  She was raped (Turns back to wife)

Ball attendee 2:  She sees someone else (Turns back to husband)

Ball attendee 3:  You gave her to him.  He impaled her mouth with his--

(Stake and Vive hand in hand start to frown)

(Focus on their hands clasped, they start to squeeze)

Stake: She whispered to me...

Vive:  You are my fate, live with me forevermore as my sex slave, and I will seduce you every night.  We will make deep passionate love in every sect of our chambers.  I want you in between my thighsss...”

Stake:  How was I to live without my beautiful wife, as vampirellic as she was, and with that we kissed as she sunk her teeth into my tongue.  (DREAM SEQUENCE ENDS)

SERGIO:  What happened to the vampire that turned her?

STAKE:  I still feel his taunts, he is seldomly ever seen or heard from, especially not in the elven kingdom and as a vampire I feel akin to him in some ways which makes it impossible to kill him.

SERGIO:  So why seek the amulet?

STAKE:  It will cure my bloodlust and that of my wife.  The elves still ridicule me even though it is under their breath.  Once worn one is immediately cured from that which guilts him.  Only those who know it's true location can don it, and it is said to bring euphoria to those who wear it, which might make it difficult to take off.

SERGIO:  Sounds interesting.  Well I'm feeling glum.  Time for me nap.

(Dream Sequence)

(Sergio sees Aragon at his crystal ball.  A  covered with hands appears and it is Basel ringing the windchime.  He turns.

Basel:  Sergio my dear boy!  So glad I have found you.  (Dog barks). Down girl down!  Good girl.  You deserve a treat.  The ring of the windchime is leading us out of the forest to the city of Yarx.  You and Stake should have no trouble finding it if you continue east. Watch for the temple in the midst of the forest.

Crystal ball starts to crack and Aragon's eyes roll back as he faints.  Dream fades and it is dawn.  Serge yawns and stretches.   He is propped on Leo.  She opens one eye and goes back to sleep.  He has been riding the lion since he was a boy and they have a deep bond. Whatever happens to the lion in essence happens to Sergio.  Stake is still asleep.  He farts.  There is a raccoon corpse next to him drained from the night before.  A nightingale lands on his napsack and starts to sing green sleeves.  He hisses and snatches at it with his eyes closed and it flies away.  He is awake.  Serge throws some beans and eggs on the griddle atop the fire.))

Serge:  Want some?

Stake:  Yes'm.

Serge:  Basel contacted me in a dream.  We're to head east to Yarx.

((Cut to scene of tavelling through jungle.  Sergio is on the lion, Stake is flying as a bat.  We're going on a lion hunt.  Trudge, trudge, trudge.  A hidden temple!  Can't go under it.  Trudge, trudge, trudge.  Can't go through it.  Trudge, trudge, trudge.  Gotta go over it!  Trudge.  They hike up the temple steps into the throne room.  It is made of stone with torches alight along the walls. There are one million bananas in a pile against the back wall.))

Tiger:  Roarr!  ((A tiger runs out at them and the lion leaps in front of her bucking Sergio onto the ground.  They get up into each other's personal spaces and grapple. ��RAWOORAWOO!  A banana salesman boomerangs a banana at the tiger.

Banana salesman:  Now Catsy!  That's not how we treat our new guests!  (Wearing underwear.  Pets Catsy under jaw as she purrs.) I've been in this temple hoarding bananas.  It is how I gain my bride.  Do you know how long it takes to hoard a million bananas? Speak!

Serge:  Can't say.

Banana Salesman:  (Putting on overalls) Not that long actually.  You see they're everywhere.  Me and Catsy here maintain the stock.  What brings you to the jungle?

Sergio:  We're on our way to Yarx coming from an elven monastery. This is the only way through.  I'm Sergio, this is Stake.

Banana salesman:  How about the cat?

Sergio:  The lion's name is Castle.

Banana salesman:  My name is True.  I'm actually on my way to Yarx. I've got a big rig.  If you help me load the bananas I'd be more than happy to take you the rest of the way.  (Stake and Serge look at each other and shrug.)

True:  Load em up!! (True has created an incredible machine to load the bananas.  Serge pops a balloon with a force wave.  A feather escapes and tickles the toes of a sleeping nymph.  She laughs and sits up hitting her heard on a platform.  A can of beans rolls off and falls into a glass.  The platform sinks and releases a machete that swings cutting the rope of a catapult that sends a nymph in a helmet flying over with a parachute and a blowhorn

Nymph:  Move em out cows go go go!

(They are frightened and start galloping off.  They are tied to a net containing a gigantic load of bananas.  They split up and the bananas are hoisted onto the back of the big rig.  Another nymph closes the pull down and locks the back. True ends with a glass of milk.  Aaahhh.  Serge and Stake look at each other and high five.)

Episode 4

(Serge has fallen asleep in the cockpit of the vehicle.  He begins to dream.  Drream sequence begins)  Basel is on a fixed gear. He stops to do a trackstand.  Does tailspin hopping over handlebars and lands in a trackstand.  He begins to ride.  He is dressed in full messenger attire.  

Basel:  Hey Serge, I hear you're gonna be in Yarx, hit me up dude! I've got a document here for you that I''ve delivered to Merril's, it's an old stationary store that we used to rack from.  It's a right of passage that you will need to get you to the Amulet of the Sacred Heart.  I'll explain more later.  Toodles, I gotta get tatted after my next run.

Serge awakens and True has arrived at a small shack where he is selling off the load of bananas to a business owner.  He climbs to the top of the truck and opens the back letting the bananas slide all over the ground.

True:  Enjoy! (He says with a smile.  He hops back in the truck.) Hey thanks again for coming with.  I have one small errand to run.

Stake:  Which isss?

True:  To find my wife.  

The Legend Of ETF (Truck drives into the distance)

Stake:  Mind if we come with?

True:  Not at all.  I could use the company actually, she stays with a graffiti crew whose name is  ETF, they have a mission for my wife to do before we get married...at least I say she's my wife.

(We find ETF inside of a dingy old apartment with high ceilings. The room is reminiscent of an old drug den, cluttered yet fancy, and covered in tags. There are five people, one standing.  We hear the door ring.)

True:  BUZZUP!  Hey can I come up?

Spake:  Yea that's chill, come on up! (Hand on buzzer)

(Oner turns to leave)  Yo I gotta leave theres peopl--

Spake:  It's chill.  

This is Big Lug, he is the leader of the team.  Big Lug is using a 3d computer that surrounds the room.  He is using scarlet sage which provides him with a brain chemical that allows him to control his virtual realm in cyber space.  

Serge, Stake, and True enter the room.  

Big Lug:  True!  Buddy, long time no see!  How long has it been?

True:  About three months

Big Lug:  Naw man, it's been a year!  Don't worry, we've been waiting for you (Sniff's fingers)  Here smell that?  (Puts fingers in front of True's nose, he refuses.)  It's your wife's butthole, don't worry we've been keeping her safe, well, I have.

True:  You make me want to vomit.  

Big Lug:  I'm just messing with you man.  You know it's all love. Now come here.

(True receives bearhug from Big Lug)  True:  Can't breathe.

(From corner of the room)  Guy with teddy bear aka Spake:  I've been so lonely.

Big Lug:  I'll give you a squeeze.

Spake:  I'd rather vomit.  

Guernica:  I hear this little voice.

Toubolde:  You sure you're alright?  I mean maybe you should take your meds.  (To Big Lug).  Man he's depressive.  Shyaa!  We all hear voices!

True:  So what's the plan?  I sold the bananas and made a mint!  I could live off this for the rest of my life.

Big Lug:  So the plan is to do a hangover.  I mean hang off.  Sorry the scarlet sage tends to have its effect.

True:  Doesn't the fall cause us to, um, die?

Big Lug:  I've created a program that allows the user to create three dimensional holograms that transpose upon any outdoor surface in the natural realm.  Of course it will be seen in public, but nevertheless nothing illegal.  And yet illegal (stares off into space).

(In a bubble)

Big lug:  There are two ways into the application.  The old fashioned way, which I use, might hurt your head.  The other way is to use a VR helmet.  To each his own.

(A Safari van is flanked by two vespas.  They are going Straight to L.A.  To the heavens...)

Rivera, Toubolde, Big Lug, Spake, True, Stake, and Sergio are crouched on a grassy embankment on the side of the freeway in L.A..

(Cats purr).  

Deb:  Hey guys I'm here!  Can I help?  I brought cans.

True:  Thank the lord!  (gives her a big hug)  

Sergio:  Well, I thought about it, I could climb up that pipe, cut the razor wire.  shimmy over to the far left above oncoming traffic while the wind billows me around.  Or I could just point and click (Snap!  Snaps his fingers.  And a funky hologram that reads “Sergio” appears on the back of the freeway sign.  I'll watch, you write. Maybe take flicks (hands in shape of camera).

As a team they climb like gorillas up the freeway sign's column.  

Rivera:  We're about to f*ck this sh*t up

Toubolde:  Be the cockiest you can be on this sign.

Big lug:  Be careful.

True:  I feel vomit coming up.

Deb:  This is a humdinger.

(They are all on the freeway sign facing camera as the platform begins to wobble.  Focus on Deb and True *his outfit looks like Tie's she's his twin)  

Deb:  Here, my love, man up, spray safe.  Soon I'll be your bride.

(They all do pieces, they go big.  They shimmy back down and the reader has a look at their pieces, they appear holographic, slightly blurry.  They all climb a ladder over the freeway wall to a tree, working their way down the limbs to a small drop.  As soon as they land they see police lights flash and hear a Bloooop!)

Police:  (Over loudspeaker)  Hold it right there!

Rivera:  Vamanos!

(The team jets to the Safari van losing the police temporarily. They all pile in.  The van squeals off as do the vespas.  The team dumps their bags from the moving vehicle.  They turn a corner and cop lights flash.  Five police vehicles are now on the team's tail.  The engines rev and the police start to overtake the vehicle, a dark shadow followed by a low hum. )

True: What's that noise?

There is an aircraft floating above the speeding cars.  

Aircraft:  Calling all cars, calling all cars, stand down immediately from the high speed chase.  Do you read, this is the chief of police, Bob Barx of the Yarx police department, I've got a team with me, we'll take it from here.

(Sirens go silent and police cars slow to a stop)

Deb:  Shiiiiiiit!

Big Lug:  Looks like we got a fun run.  (Big grin, steps on gas)

They hear a rumbling and the vehicle starts to shake.  The car illuminates.  We see a beam of light coming from over head from the ship.  It seems the aircraft is actually a U.F.O.  The beam abducts the safari and the vespas.  The team is now inside the ship.  

Loudspeaker:  Hey, are you guys alright?  Come into the cockpit, we would love to meet you.  

Spake:  Okayyy?!

Everyone makes their way into the cockpit where there are two extraterrestrials sitting smoking scarlet sage.  They turn from the window which looks at the stars.  

Alien:  (Inhales, holds breath)  Hi. (Exhales deeply).  I'm Hans, this is Alfredo.

Alfredo:  Ciao. (Sips espresso with pinky out)

Hans:  Welcome to the brotherhood (says with smile) we saw what you did back there, takes gusto, how exactly, how, did that come into fruition?

Deb:  Well see, I'm due to be married to Truesy here, so for a final bow, we decided to do this Heaven in L.A.  Holographic style!

True:  That was a rush, I see what you guys live for.  Kiss me sweetie.  (Puckers up)

Deb:  Ah, ah, ah, not in front of the gang!

Hans:  We are graff writers too.

Spake:  Oh yea, (chuckle) what do you two write?

Hans:  I write Hans.

Alfredo:  And I write Alfredo.

Spake:  Uh. Cool.

Rivera:  Not to be an earwig, but what's the plan?

Hans:  Oh we'll come out of orbit in a sec.  One full revolution which will take about 3.5 seconds and we'll land back in Yarx.

Big Lug:  Just in time for you two to be married.  (Smiles as he chews eclaire).

(UFO lands back in Yarx in someones backyard.  Family is confused. Cut to True and his wife Deb in the back of the banana truck making love below a banner that reads “just married.”)

Episode 5  

(Sergio and Stake are eating ramen in Yarx, at a corner bar.  The Lion is outside.  They have their own glasses of a potent steaming potion.  

Sergio:  (Sips) Have to get that right of passage

Stake:  Got that right.  (Sip)

Sergio:  Check!  (Put one hand up)

(Cut to Sergio walking with lion.  Stake is a bat.  As they walk strangers thought bubbles direct them)

Stranger 1:  (Face covered in 9's) The right you seek.

Stranger 2:  Is in a cup..

Stranger 3:  At the bottom of a well.

Sergio:  (Pulls out map of Yarx) Let's have a look see.  (They are a blip on the map).  There's a well here near the sewage containment facility...or there's one here in the castle yard of this castle. (Looks at map, reads Gronkagel).  I detect castle guard (Points to blip on map.)  It's a balrog.  I figure it's the one with the balrog.

(Scenes of travel, the life is colorful, homeless, street hustlers, restaurants, basic city scene.   The scene changes to the country side, life slows down.  Eventually they reach a tall hill on which the castle Gronkagel lies.  They begin their hike.  They reach a wall with a tall door).

Sergio:  Hey Balrog!  Balrooooog!  Hm. No sign of him.  I guess we play the breaking and entering game.  

 (Sergio points to the top of the wall and Stake flies up and over. First a rumble then a creak.  Doors open and Stake stands.  Sergio enters.  As soon as he enters three palace guards come to greet him.)

Castle guards:  (In unison)  Welcome to castle Gronkagel, where the Gronk! (Bonks Stake and then Sergio with a spear) Comes first.  You have been knighted!

Stake:  Ssss! (rubs head)  you're god awful but I accept.

Sergio:  Yea, me too.  Say, what is there to do here in Castle Tintag- I mean Gronkagel?

Castle guards:  (In unison)  We have a well, and a tower that oversees the land.

Sergio:  Take us to the we--

Stake:  (Overlapping Sergio) to the tower!    

Sergio:  I mean to the tower.  That would be very nice.

Castle guards:  (In unison)  Very well.  (They turn and start to leave the castle.)

(All five start to climb the tower stairs).

Castle guards:  As you can see--

Stake:  So anyways (Throws castle guard off  ledge)

Sergio: (Knocks castle down with lightning bolt).

Castle guards:  Would you look at that?  Better go check on the Bal-

Sergio:  Have another taste of lightning!

(Serge knocks them into a pile with bolt of lightning).

Stake:  Oh suck my cock!  What about the Balrog?

(Balrog gets up from pile of rubble)

Balrog:  So much for my nap.  Feel like I hit me head.

Sergio:  (From tower)  Lightning bolt!  Lightning bolt! Lightning bolt! (Shoots three to Balrogs chest)

Balrog:  Ow, oh bullocks!  Let me guess you came for the write of passage?  Well if you want it that much come 'ere then.  I'll lower you into the well.

Stake:  Oh yea right! (In a yell)

(Serge and Stake approach pile of rubble)  

Balrog:  (Takes flight)  I mean come 'ere!

Sergio:  Oh I see by here, he means come to us (under his breath).   Attack!

Stake:  (Pulls out dagger )  

Sergio:   You're never gonna get anywhere with that!  (Pulls out dagger.  Jumps at his neck and Slam!  The balrog slams him into the tower floor.

Stake:  (Jumps onto the balrogs neck and with his cape makes him blind.)  Please hold.

Balrog:  (Takes flight).  

Stake:  Let's go for a ride!  (Balrog throws him off)

Sergio:  Long jumps onto his neck attempting to strangle balrog with a whip.  

Balrog:  (Falls into a swamp in the forest.  Balrog is out cold.)

Sergio:  So much for balrog.   (Pulls out map.  Blip turns gold)

(Sergio and Stake walk through the rubble).

Sergio:  Go down

Stake:  Kay

(Stake turns into a bat and flies into the well.  He nosedives into the water, sees a sewer rat, and winks.  Finds chest because of it's glow, and brings it up over the well wall.  Sergio makes finger into a key and slides into lock.  He opens chest and inside finds a cup. Inside is the writ of passage.  It glows.)

Basel:  You've got the writ!  Cheers to you!  (Takes a sip of beer.) Now for a pint of Eastvleteran.  The best beer in the world.  My fellow monks and I brew this stuff.  It is highly rated and always sells out, gets better with age, we know from experience.  A word of advice for whenever the fear hits, no one rules the world so until then fight for your breath.  By the way, what does it say?  Points to the writ and takes note.  Smiles.(Scene ends).  

Stake:  Hey can we go to Dragonvild, my wife is there, I thought she might like to meet up for an exchange...there be dragoooons.  

Sergio:  Down for whatever, as long as it's on the way.  I'll ask Basel the next time I sleep. (Hops on Leo Stake is a bat, they take off in a dynamic closeup from the side.)

Episode 6

(At camp at night.  Sergio is about to pass out, Stake is awake.  Sergio is resting on Leo.  Stake looks at a small heart locket.  The picture is of his wife, she winks and smooches.  He smiles adoringly.  She then picks up a small rat, and drains it's blood with her fangs. Stake does the same thing.  The rat squirms and then goes limp. Sergio looks at him with his eyebrow raised.  Stake tosses the rat aside and pours himself a glass of wine, then pours Sergio one. Stakes wife drinks wine in the picture frame.  Some drizzles down her cheek.

Sergio:  Ooh, thiz wine izz ztrong.  (Passes out).

(Basel appears in a spiral in Sergio's dream.  He has a baby pet dragon.  He is feeding him an omelet).  

Basel:  Hello my boy!  It seems you are on your way to Dragonvild, where you will enjoy food, drink, and many a dragon like this little tired tyke.  (Feeds him omelet).  The whole town is dedicated to dragon preservation, hence the ancient architecture *reminiscent of gaudi* and abundance of gold.  Keep in mind Stake is a sex slave to his wife so they will be in bed almost the whole time.  So build capital while you are there.  I suggest you join the dragon racing league, with your experience riding dragons as a child you should be a shoo-in.  So shoo!

(Leo stirs, awakening Sergio.  As usual, the fire is out, Stake is asleep amongst a pile of dead rats.  Sergio opens a can of beans and puts some steak and eggs on the griddle).  

(The scent drifts into Stake's nostrils Snif! Followed by Sss! He's awake.)

Stake:  Can I have some?

Sergio:  Nah, can't.  (Serves him up a dish)

Stake:  If you say I can.

(A small gnome comes and sits by the fire.)  

Small gnome:  Mah!

(Stake serves up some eggs on a plate to the gnome and licks his teeth with a smile.  Travel scene through the forest.  As usual Stake is a bat.  They approach the town on a hillside.  The scene overlooks the town.  When they arrive at the gates, they are greeted by butterflies.  Serge approaches a dragon rental.  Stake goes to find his wife.  There are several dragons in disrepair in a pen and one handsome stud.)

Sergio:  Hey there, how much for this handsome stud?

Clerk:  Actually that one is a girl.

(Leo purrs).

Clerk:  She'll cost you approximately 15 quid a day plus tax. You're already insured with the umbrella insurance, but you won't need it.  That one there knows what she's doing.  (Points and winks). We'll include a manual on how to feed her, a leash, and a saddle. She's very friendly.  She eats mostly fruit that is native to the land.  Any experience handling or riding dragons?

Sergio:  Yes when I was very young until I was a teen.

Clerk:  Then this will come naturally to you.  She regularly races in the minor dragon racing league but this is her off season.  So don't you dare race her or it'll be your head.

Sergio:  (Smiles).  I wouldn't dream of it.  (Puts fifteen coin down on the table.  One of them spins).

(Stake is walking along a cobblestone street.  He is alone.  He arrives at his wife's residence.  It is a tall Gaudi-esque villa.  The placard near the door reads “Chateau d'omnivore.” He rings the doorbell, which sounds like a screech.  The door opens and a woman's arm reaches out and pulls him in.  He has one dozen roses behind his back.  The door shuts.  His wife stands before him, one arm up and one arm down in a long dress).

Stakes wife (Vive):  Here I am!

Stake:  I haven't seen you in a long time.  I got these for you. (Hand is out with bouquet).

Vive: (Takes bouquet smiles with greedy eyes then throws them behind her. She goes in to kiss his neck and puts a hand on his crotch.

Stake: (Looks calm and bashful as she kisses his neck)  Oh how I've missed you.

Vive: (Takes his hand)  Come to the bedroom, I've got a lot to show you.

(Back to Sergio)

(Sergio stands in front of a banner that reads “Dragon Racing Major League Tryouts Today.”)

Clerk of the course:  Alright, you've made the cut.  What's your dragon's name?  

Sergio:  T

Clerk of the course: Well then we'll see you and T next day of the Sun.  Be prepared because the Marauders from the middle east are coming to town.

(Back to Stake)

(Stake and Vive are making love in a bed that looks like it belongs in a castle.  She orgasms.)

Vive:  “Ooooohhhhh!”  (We see her “O” face) I'm cuming, hard!

Stake:  Me too, my love.  

(She leans in to kiss his mouth).

Vive:  I've missed your sperm.

(Stake and Vive cuddle in each other's arms).

Vive:  I've got new stationary.  It's cool I'll write you a note.

Stake:  I'd like to read it sometime.  Perhaps I need to check on Sergio and his dragon quest.  

Vive:  I'll strangle you if you do.

(Stake smiles).  Mmhmm, sure you will.

Vive:  Or maybe I'll write Pavel a note.  You know, just to apologize.  

Stake:  Mmhmm, sure you do.

Vive:  So how did you like our rape?

Stake:  Well, I sure did have fun raping the girl from the ville--

Vive:  Maybe I'll rape the bard, he plays guitar.  In fact I already did.  He has a humongous-- (bites her lip)

Stake:  Eh, no.  That was just his fantasy.  Let it all be a dream.

Vive:  I'd rape you.

Stake:  No, we'd make love.

Vive:  Like we just did.  I need a snack.

Stake:  I'll fix you one.  Fruit, with a cup of.

Vive:  Dragon blood.

Stake:  K.  Be back in 5.

(Cut to Sergio.  He is in a field with a dragon.  In the distance a stranger who is female plays fetch with her dragon using a large bone).  

(Leo rubs against Sergio and runs to catch a field mouse).

Sergio:  Ok, T, to win this race we're gonna need a little cooperation.  (Tries to mount her.  She roars and spits a ball of flame).  Okay really, I cannot.

The dragon from across the way runs into their camp and catches a bone knocking into Touloula.  They flit).  

Girl from dragon camp:  Hey over there!  I apologize for my dragon. Having trouble with yours?  Here's what you do.  Take the tip of your finger and prick it then place a drop of your blood in the dragon's eye.  See what happens! (She winks and takes bone from dragon).

(Sergio frowns.  Takes out knife from sheath and pricks finger.  He calmly takes Touloula's bridle and squeezes a drop of blood into her eye.  Her pupil dialates all black then it squeezes back to a slender half crescent.

T:  Mango.

Sergio:  You want a mango?  

T:  Yess pleasse.  I will be your mizztrezz.

Sergio:  Hey now, slow down.  I'll go find you some fruit.  How bout an apple?  

T:  I'd prefer a Mango.  (Burps a flame).  It helps me concentrate.

(Leo comes over with a mango in her mouth, and drops the mango at his feet.  Then goes to play with field mouse.

Girl From dragoncamp:  Here boy! (Tosses bone).

Sergio:  Okay, let's see what you can do.  T, go get it!  (Throws mango into the air, and without a moments notice T leaps into flight and chomps at the mango.  T lands on ground softly.  Whump!  Girl from dragon camp claps).  Good job, T!

(Back to Vive's bedroom).

Freshening up in mirror in bathrobe.  

Vive:  Oooh my fangs are so sharp.  Ladadee, ladada.  (Spritzes perfume on neck).  We see a bat at the window sill.  Then two.  (Vive sees in the mirror over her shoulder, then drops perfume.  The perfume breaks.  Smash)!  

(More bats fly to the balcony rail.  There are now ten).  

Vive: (In shock).  Gasp!

Two bats turn into vampires on the balcony

Vive:  Pavel!

Pavel:  Steal your gold...WIFE!  (Smashes door with cane).

Stake:  (Bursts through the door.  He is nude.  He drops the tray and wine).

Vive:  (Grabs dagger from the dresser).

Stake:  (Runs in front of Vive).  (To her):  Stay back! (Equips cane and draws a fiery blade).  Stay away from me!

Pavel:  Hisss!  

(The bats on the window sill leave in a flurry.)  Scurry!

Stake:  (To Vive):  Go to the other room!  I'll handle them.

Vive:  We'll fight them...(Dagger turns into a torch)  Together.

Pavel:  Come, now my dear, don't do anything too hasty.  

Vive:  Die!  (She jumps through the air dagger in hand).

Pavel:  (Sidesteps.  Crack! He uses the handle of his blade to hit the base of her neck).

Vive:  (Winces and cries in pain).

Stake:  Vive!  (He lunges and catches Pavel on the arm with his blade).  Yaaah!

Pavel:  (Holding arm).  Kisssss your wife...GOODBYE!  (Throws high kick which Stake guards).

Stake:  Knees Pavel in the groin.

Vampire 2:  (Grabs Vive and holds her unconscious body underneath her arms.  He has a knife to her neck).  Stay back!  I'll kill her if you move.

Stake:  You wouldn't.  

Vampire 2:  I will too!  Try me!  (Presses blade to her neck).

Pavel:  Stake, she's not your wife.  She's a vampire now, not an elf.  You would be too if you started acting like one.  We'll hold on to this one until you get your act together.  This is for the time oh I dunno, you cut off my head?  Oh, and do bring me the amulet, it is also oursss!  Meet us at Chateau d'Ormsby by 5, the day you were wed.

(Vampire 2 backs up onto the balcony with Vive.  Eight vampire bats lift Vive by the arms and carry her from the balcony.  They all leave in a flurry).

Vampires:  She's our familyyyy!  What a rapist!  They captured it in crystal!

Stake:  Noooooooooooooooooooooo.  (Looks down

[christinaepilzauthor-blog]

John Boyle O'Reilly - Irish Patriot, American Journalist, Poet

by Arthur Russell

"The world is large when its weary leagues two loving hearts divide. 

The world is small when your enemy is loose on the other side." These lines were quoted by United States President John F. Kennedy in his address to the Irish Parliament (Dáil Eireann), during his visit to Ireland in June 1963. The lines describe the heartache and trauma of Irish emigration which had become an enduring feature of life in Ireland arising from mid nineteenth century social upheavals caused by chronic famine coupled with serious agrarian disturbance.

The President was quoting from one of his favourite writers, John Boyle O'Reilly, who as editor of the paper "The Pilot" and a prolific writer and lecturer, was a dominant and well regarded commentator on the Boston scene during the last decades of the 19th century. Who was John Boyle O'Reilly? He was born in Ireland in June 1844, in Netterville House in Dowth, County Meath near the town of Drogheda; within sight of the 5000 year-old Megalithic tomb complex of Newgrange and its sister site of Knowth in the River Boyne valley. Both of his parents, William David O'Reilly and Eliza Boyle; were school teachers and ardent Irish Nationalists, features that contributed to O'Reilly's love of reading about all things Irish as well as his gift for writing. When he was 15, he went to live with his uncle and aunt in Preston in Lancashire where he worked as a young reporter with a local newspaper. While here he joined the 11th Lancashire Rifle Volunteers. He returned to Ireland in 1863, and enlisted in the 10th Hussars. As a fresh recruit, he became disillusioned by the Imperial authorities treatment of the native Irish population which caused him to encourage 80 fellow soldiers to join the newly formed Irish Republican Brotherhood, which became commonly known as "the Fenians". In the aftermath of an abortive insurrection in 1866, O'Reilly, along with many other Fenian activists were arrested. He was sentenced to be executed, but due to his relative youth (aged 22 years) this was commuted to 20 years imprisonment with hard labour. A year and a half was served in English prisons from which he made several unsuccessful attempts to escape which earned him long periods of solitary confinement before he was transported to serve the remainder of his term in a penal colony in Australia. He had the distinction of being a member of the last group of transportees to be sent to Australia. This was on board the ship Hougoumont where he and a number of fellow Fenian prisoners produced a handwritten newspaper called The Wild Goose which included poems and stories drawn from the experiences of his fellow convicts on board. Seven editions of The Wild Goose were produced, one set of which survives in the State Library of New South Wales.

Convict life in Western Australia

On arrival in Australia he was assigned to a convict camp in the town of Bunbury in Western Australia in 1868. Within a year, and with the help and encouragement of the local Catholic priest, Father Patrick McCabe and some farmers from the nearby town of Dardanup, O'Reilly determined to escape from Australia. Following a prearranged plan, he and a fellow Fenian prisoner absconded from the convict camp and made their way to the Leshenault Peninsula where they had to wait for two weeks before being picked up by the American ship Gazelle which brought him from Australia. After a long voyage with several stops where he was in constant danger of being rearrested, he arrived in Boston in November 1869. Arrival in Boston Here, O'Reilly became involved with the burgeoning Irish American community, including its civil rights and sporting activities. Due to his considerable writing skills, he became part owner of the Pilot newspaper and began serious writing. His first book of poetry "Songs from the Southern Seas" was published in 1873. During the following decade, there were other poetry collections; Songs, Legends and Ballads (1878), The Statues in the Block (1881), In Bohemia (1886). In 1879 he published a novel Moondyne in 1879 based on his convict experiences in Australia, which was very popular among Irish Americans. His final collection of poems, Watchwords was published after his death in 1890. O'Reilly's life in Boston O'Reilly's first newspaper assignment was to cover the Fenian Convention in Boston in 1870, and the abortive Fenian led invasion of British ruled Canada, the most significant action of which was the Battle of Ridgeway in 1866 where the Irish Americans were repulsed by the Canadians. Overall, the military venture into Canada was a total disaster and was responsible for O'Reilly changing his views on Fenian militarism as a means for achieving political ends in either Canada or his native Ireland. Instead he saw the need to raise the status and self esteem of his fellow Irish immigrants to America as a better way to improve their lot in their adopted land, as well as progresslng the eventual achievement of independence back in his native Ireland through political rather than physical force methods. He established his home in the Charlestown neighbourhood where he brought his bride, Mary Murphy in August 1872. Mary was also a journalist who worked for another Boston publication, The Young Crusader, under the name Agnes Smiley. The couple had 4 daughters, the second of which, Agnes O'Reilly, helped with her husband William Ernest Hocking, to establish the mixed gender Shady Hill School near Harvard Square in Cambridge, Massachusetts, which still operates. (The school actually began in 1915 with the support of a group of families, as a "back porch" school in the Hocking household until student numbers outgrew this location).

The Catalpa Rescue

In 1875, O'Reilly was approached by the leader of the major Irish nationalist organisation in the United States, John Devoy; to advise on the rescue of six Fenian leaders still imprisoned in Australia. This plan had significant support from the Irish American community and funds were forthcoming to purchase a whaling ship called the Catalpa and its crew for the venture. The result was the successful Catalpa Rescue which saw the six prisoners being picked up just outside Australian waters after dodging naval patrols that had been alerted about the escape. The fact that Catalpa was flying the flag of the United States in international waters prevented the Australian authorities from forcibly boarding the ship. O'Reilly as editor of the Pilot, was first to break the news of the escape in June 1876, which caused much celebration in United States and Ireland; extreme anger in Britain and Australia. The escape is celebrated by an impressive memorial in Rockingham, Western Australia which features 6 flying geese which draws on the tradition of Irish soldiers leaving Ireland to join Continental armies after the War of the 2 Kings which saw Protestant King William replace Catholic King James on the English throne. These and succeeding generations of departing Jacobite Irish soldiers came to be called the Wild Geese. This recalled the Wild Goose name also applied by O'Reilly and his Fenian prisoner comrades to their publication on board the Hougoumont transporting them to Australia. The Social activist Through the medium of The Pilot newspaper O'Reilly articulated his support for the establishment of the rights of the emancipated slaves emerging from the American Civil war. His immediate focus was a recent U.S. Supreme Court as well as the campaigning of one Henry Grady who advocated what he termed establishing "The New South" which would keep the black population in a second class role in the aftermath of the Supreme Court's ruling which declared the 1875 Civil Rights Act unconstitutional.

'Never did oratory cover up the weaker points of a repulsive cause so well' The Pilot printed a series of articles disputing the claims advanced by Grady that highlighted the realities of southern life. The massacre by a white mob of 8 black men in South Carolina in December 1889 prompted the following editorial from O'Reilly. To some extent, it reflects his undimmed Irish Nationalism, along with inevitable opposition against the "Anglo Saxon"; at the same time encouraging opposition "by law first and by manly force in extremity." The black race in the South must face the inevitable, soon or late, and the inevitable is - DEFEND YOURSELF. If they shrink from this, they will be trampled on with yearly increasing cruelty until they have sunk back from the great height of American freedom to which the war-wave carried them. And in the end, even submission will not save them. On this continent there is going to be no more slavery. That is settled forever. Not even voluntary slavery will be tolerated. Therefore, unless the Southern blacks learn to defend their homes, women, and lives, by law first and by manly force in extremity, they will be exterminated like the Tasmanian and Australian blacks. No other race has ever obtained fair play from the Anglo-Saxon without fighting for it, or being ready to fight. The Southern blacks should make no mistake about the issue of the struggle they are in. They are fighting for the existence of their race; and they cannot fight the Anglo-Saxon by lying down under his feet. This editorial roused considerable criticism across the country to which the Pilot faithfully published and responded. Replying to the St. Louis newspaper Church Progress that: 'It is neither Catholic nor American to rouse the negroes of the South to open and futile rebellion' O'Reilly wrote: 'True, and the Pilot has not done so. We have appealed only to the great Catholic and American principle of resisting wrong and outrage, of protecting life and home and the honour of families by all lawful means, even the extremest, when nothing else remains to be tried.' His anti-racist views as well as his support for minorities suffering from various forms of discrimination made him a much sought after speaker promoting better race and inter-ethnic relations across the country. By contrast, O'Reilly's views of Women's suffrage remained consistently "conservative" based on sincerely held views that society and civilisation was ultimately under pinned by violence. He contended that Society was a blend of competing interests each of which was backed by men willing and able to fight for what they believed. In this scenario, O'Reilly saw women's lack of physical strength in protecting their own interests as reason not to extend the franchise. "A vote, like a law is no good unless there is an arm behind it; it cannot be enforced. This is a shameful truth, perhaps, but it is true".

"We want no contest with women; they are higher, truer, nobler, smaller, meaner, more faithful, more frail, gentler, more envious, less philosophic, more merciful - oh, far more merciful and kind and lovable and good than men are. Those of them that are Catholics, are better Catholics than their husbands and sons; those who are Protestants are better Christians than theirs. Women have all the necessary qualities to make good men; but they must give their time and attention to it while the men are boys."He had well defined views on the role of newspapers and journalists in keeping society on the straight and narrow. Journalism should be much much more than "muckraking and manufactured outrage", their role being to explain the world to readers honestly and clearly. Surely this is a current theme in an age of so-called "fake news" (real and/or alleged)? O'Reilly's published writings

His published writings were well received to the extent that he was often commissioned to write commemorative pieces for special events. Some of his works are still highly regarded.

Possibly his best known poem is "The Cry of the Dreamer", which shows his love for Ireland and his memories of boyhood days in the rural countryside near the River Boyne in Ireland which he would never see again; ("the dear old river, where I dreamed my youth away"). It also articulates his tedium with "heart weary building and spoiling, and spoiling and building again"; which was part and parcel of his new life in Boston; as well as his awareness of his adopted city's ("crowded hives of men") social inequalities. ("no pride but pity for the burdens the rich endure" as against "nothing sweet in the city but the patient lives of the poor"). The poor of the cities, the black population struggling to find their way to true freedom, the native Indian being driven from their ancestral lands as well as the many ethnic groups, including his own Irish immigrants trying to make their way in a new land all feature in O'Reilly's writings.

I am tired of planning and toiling In the crowded hives of men; Heart-weary of building and spoiling, And spoiling and building again. And I long for the dear old river, Where I dreamed my youth away; For a dreamer lives forever, And a toiler dies in a day. I am sick of the showy seeming Of a life that is half a lie; Of the faces lined with scheming In the throng that hurries by. From the sleepless thoughts' endeavour, I would go where the children play; For a dreamer lives forever, And a thinker dies in a day. I can feel no pride, but pity For the burdens the rich endure; There is nothing sweet in the city But the patient lives of the poor. Oh, the little hands too skillful, And the child-mind choked with weeds! The daughter's heart grown willful, And the father's heart that bleeds! No, no! from the street's rude bustle, From the trophies of mart and stage, I would fly to the woods' low rustle And the meadows' kindly page. Let me dream as of old by the river, And be loved for the dream alway; For a dreamer lives forever, And a toiler dies in a day. Among his more popular lines are the piece "A White Rose", often quoted at many wedding celebrations wherever English is spoken, demonstrate a romantic side of this talented writer. A White Rose

The red rose whispers of passion, And the white rose breathes of love; O, the red rose is a falcon, And the white rose is a dove. But I send you a cream-white rosebud With a flush on its petal tips; For the love that is purest and sweetest Has a kiss of desire on the lips Death and aftermath O'Reilly suffered from bouts of insomnia and on one of these took medicine containing chloral hydrate used by his wife to help him sleep. His wife Mary found him unconscious sitting at a table with one hand resting beside a book, and the other holding a cigar. All attempts to revive him failed and he died at 5 pm on August 10th 1890 in his 46th year. Public announcements attributed the death to heart failure, while the official record shows accidental poisoning. His funeral was attended by thousands of mourners. Five of his Fenian comrades who had found a haven in United States were his coffin bearers to Calvary Cemetery in Roxbury. Later in the year his remains were exhumed and removed to Holyhood Cemetery in Brookline. Immediately after his death, there was widespread outpouring of tributes to O'Reilly led by President Grover Cleveland who wrote "I have heard with sincere regret that John Boyle O'Reilly is dead. I regarded him as a strong and able man, entirely devoted to any cause he espoused, unselfish in his activity, true and warm in his friendship, and patriotic Massachusetts Senator George Frisby Hoar wrote to Mary O'Reilly "Accept my profound sympathy in your great loss and the great public loss. Your husband combined, as no other man, some of the noblest qualities of the Irishman and the American."

Six years later (June 1896), a multi-figure bronze sculpture made by Daniel Chester French of O'Reilly was unveiled on the Fenway, Boston, at which President Cleveland spoke. Perhaps the strongest endorsement of O'Reilly and what he stood for was from his Pilot newspaper colleague James Jeffrey Roche who published his biography. "O'Reilly defended the oppressed negroes, as he had defended the oppressed Indians, as sincerely and zealously as he had all his life defended the oppressed of his own race. It was morally impossible for him to do otherwise."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Arthur Russell is the author of Morgallion, a novel set in medieval Ireland during the Invasion of Ireland in 1314 by the Scottish army led by Edward deBruce, the last crowned King of Ireland. It tells the story of Cormac MacLochlainn, a young man from the Gaelic crannóg community of Moynagh and how he and his family endured and survived that turbulent period of history. Morgallion was awarded the indieBRAG Medallion.

Hat Tip To: English Historical Fiction Authors