#we will now have to talk seriously about contingency plans that involve living outside the US

[edaworks]

I looked at my wife and said: “I know you just got here, but I’m wondering how soon we can leave.”

[welllpthisishappening]

Welllp These Are Books: the March 2021 Edition

There aren’t even any pictures! Except in that one book where there were pictures! It was weird! This was a weird book month! Back at it again with thoughts and opinions about a whole mess of books that no one explicitly asked for, but I’ve got lots of thoughts and opinions and they only count if I share them on the internet. Seriously, someone let me go to a baseball game soon. Obligatory warning for spoilers and vaguely unhinged rants under the cut. As always, feel free to come tell me what else I should be reading at literally any time ever.

Best Book of the Month Honors Goes to This Book, Even Though They Called It Halftime at a Hockey Game. A Hockey Game!

The Dating Plan by Sara Desai

Daisy Patel is a software engineer who understands lists and logic better than bosses and boyfriends. With her life all planned out, and no interest in love, the one thing she can't give her family is the marriage they expect. Left with few options, she asks her childhood crush to be her decoy fiancé. Liam Murphy is a venture capitalist with something to prove. When he learns that his inheritance is contingent on being married, he realizes his best friend's little sister has the perfect solution to his problem. A marriage of convenience will get Daisy's matchmaking relatives off her back and fulfill the terms of his late grandfather's will. If only he hadn’t broken her tender teenage heart nine years ago… Sparks fly when Daisy and Liam go on a series of dates to legitimize their fake relationship. Too late, they realize that very little is convenient about their arrangement. History and chemistry aren't about to follow the rules of this engagement.

— Ok, it’s important to know that I really did love this book. It hit all my trope-wants. Childhood friends, incredibly stupid misunderstandings, pining, seriously God the pining, fake engagement, BANTER. It was all going great. I was occasionally swooning. They kept making out! And then! THEN. They went to a hockey game. On a date. A fake date. Cool, cool, cool. All tropes, all the time right? Not so fast, internet! Because these self-proclaimed Sharks SUPER FANS referred to intermission as “halftime was coming up.” Halftime! At a hockey game! That’s—that’s not how hockey works! If this hadn’t been “traditionally” published, I probably could have let it slide. But that was not the case. This was a “real” book with, I can only assume, real editors. All of whom saw the words halftime and hockey near each other and we’re like YEAH, PRINT THAT SHIT. I read that at nearly one in the morning and seriously considered waking Justin up to be like CAN YOU BELIEVE THIS IS IN A REAL BOOK? Anyway, it was still real cute. Everyone lived happily ever after. It made want to eat samosas.

This Book Had Pictures, It Was Weird

Clean Sweep by Ilona Andrews

On the outside, Dina Demille is the epitome of normal. She runs a quaint Victorian Bed and Breakfast in a small Texas town, owns a Shih Tzu named Beast, and is a perfect neighbor, whose biggest problem should be what to serve her guests for breakfast. But Dina is...different:  Her broom is a deadly weapon; her Inn is magic and thinks for itself. Meant to be a lodging for otherworldly visitors, the only permanent guest is a retired Galactic aristocrat who can’t leave the grounds because she’s responsible for the deaths of millions and someone might shoot her on sight. Under the circumstances, "normal" is a bit of a stretch for Dina.

And now, something with wicked claws and deepwater teeth has begun to hunt at night...Feeling responsible for her neighbors, Dina decides to get involved. Before long, she has to juggle dealing with the annoyingly attractive, ex-military, new neighbor, Sean Evans—an alpha-strain werewolf—and the equally arresting cosmic vampire soldier, Arland, while trying to keep her inn and its guests safe. But the enemy she’s facing is unlike anything she’s ever encountered before. It’s smart, vicious, and lethal, and putting herself between this creature and her neighbors might just cost her everything.

— So, Ilona Andrews is a name that keeps coming up because when I borrow a book from the library I have to go through Kindle and Amazon is like...here are some other absurd fantasy romances you’d enjoy. Also, one of her other series had been recc’ed to me. Only problem? The first book in that series is the only book in that series not available at my library. So, I was like, ok, I’ll start this one instead. It was...weird. Honestly, it felt like I’d been dropped in the middle of the story and the narrator was like, well why don’t you already know what’s going on? In theory the world building was cool. (I was not expecting alien werewolves, lemme tell you that!) But also it all felt very rushed and the end just sorta happened.

In Which I Continue to Love “Same Verse” Books & No One Else Had Sex in the Port Jeff High School Dugout. For Which I Was Grateful

Love Her or Lose Her by Tessa Bailey

Rosie and Dominic Vega are the perfect couple: high school sweethearts, best friends, madly in love. Well, they used to be anyway. Now Rosie’s lucky to get a caveman grunt from the ex-soldier every time she walks in the door. Dom is faithful and a great provider, but the man she fell in love with ten years ago is nowhere to be found. When her girlfriends encourage Rosie to demand more out of life and pursue her dream of opening a restaurant, she decides to demand more out of love, too. Three words: marriage boot camp.

Never in a million years did Rosie believe her stoic, too-manly-to-emote husband would actually agree to relationship rehab with a weed-smoking hippie. Dom talking about feelings? Sitting on pillows? Communing with nature? Learning love languages? Nope. But to her surprise, he’s all in, and it forces her to admit her own role in their cracked foundation. As they complete one ridiculous—yet surprisingly helpful—assignment after another, their remodeled relationship gets stronger than ever. Except just as they’re getting back on track, Rosie discovers Dom has a secret... and it could demolish everything.

— Listen, one of my absolutely favorite tropes that I do not think gets enough love in the world is COMMITTED LONG-LASTING RELATIONSHIPS. And, like, ok, sure the premise of this was that they were separating in that long-lasting relationship. But no one really believed that, did they? Rosie and Dominic were real cute and their banter was good and I wasn’t totally skeeved out when they literally fucked on the kitchen floor. So, I think that’s saying something. Also, also! I seriously appreciated the realism of this book because no one on Long Island would ever call Manhattan Manhattan. It’s the city. Every other borough gets a name, but Manhattan is just the city and I nearly cheered when they said that. But also, no one’s taking a cab from Port Jeff to the Meatpacking District. You know what that would cost? God.

Tools of Engagement by Tessa Bailey

Hair, makeup, clothing, decor... everything in Bethany Castle's world is organized, planned, and styled to perfection. Which is why the homes she designs for her family's real estate business are the most coveted in town. The only thing not perfect? Her track record with men. She's on a dating hiatus and after helping her friends achieve their dreams, Bethany finally has time to focus on her own: flip a house, from framework to furnishings, all by herself. Except her older brother runs the company and refuses to take her seriously.

When a television producer gets wind of the Castle sibling rivalry, they’re invited on Flip Off, a competition to see who can do the best renovation. Bethany wants bragging rights, but she needs a crew and the only member of her brother's construction team willing to jump ship is Wes Daniels, the new guy in town. His Texas drawl and handsome face got under Bethany's skin on day one, and the last thing she needs is some cocky young cowboy in her way.

As the race to renovate heats up, Wes and Bethany are forced into close quarters, trading barbs and biting banter as they remodel the ugliest house on the block. It's a labor of love, hate, and everything in between, and soon sparks are flying. But Bethany's perfectly structured life is one kiss away from going up in smoke and she knows falling for a guy like Wes would be a flipping disaster.

— It should first be noted that in the three books of this series, I could not and cannot understand why Bethany’s brother was such a monumental dick. He was just...he was a dick. His marriage was awful. How long was his wife pregnant without him knowing???? I digress. This continued to be cute, Bethany was a legit heroine as far as those rom-com things go, Wes was very Texas and that got a little over the top, but they had sex in a bed like normal people so that helped. Oh, except that one time on the construction site. Whatever, this book was cute. This whole series was cute, really, and I was a big fan of the happy little wrap-everything-up with a bow ending.

Romance That Happens In Point Two Seconds Is...Unbelievable

Too Hot to Handle by Tessa Bailey

The road trip was definitely a bad idea. Having already flambéed her culinary career beyond recognition, Rita Clarkson is now stranded in God-Knows-Where, New Mexico, with a busted-ass car and her three temperamental siblings, who she hasn't seen in years. When rescue shows up---six-feet-plus of hot, charming sex on a motorcycle---Rita's pretty certain she's gone from the frying pan right into the fire . . . Jasper Ellis has a bad boy reputation in this town, and he loathes it. The moment he sees Rita, though, Jasper knows he's about to be sorely tempted. There's something real between them. Something raw. And Jasper has only a few days to show Rita that he isn't just for tonight---he's forever.

— For as much as I loved the Port Jeff series by my new pal Tessa, this one was...oof. Too much, guys. Too much. Fucking in trucks. Fucking in back offices. The whole book lasted, like, three days. And keep in mind this is coming from someone who has written like two million words about Killian Jones, self-loathing champ 250 years running, but Jasper’s self-loathing was a little over the top. Like, let’s not objectify dudes, but also...I don’t know guys. Maybe the other books in the series are better? I was mostly just annoyed by Rita.

What the Hell Happened at the End of This Book?? Seriously, I Have No Idea

The Queen’s Assassin by Melissa de la Cruz

Caledon Holt is the kingdom's deadliest weapon. No one alive can best him in speed, strength, or brains, which is why he's the Hearthstone Guild's most dangerous member. Cal is also the Queen's Assassin, bound to her by magic and unable to leave her service until the task she's set for him is fulfilled. Shadow of the Honey Glade has been training all her life to join the Guild, hoping that one day she'll become an assassin as feared and revered as Cal. But Shadow's mother and aunts expect her to serve the crown as a lady of the Renovian Court. When a surprise attack brings Shadow and Cal together, they're forced to team up as assassin and apprentice. Even though Shadow's life belongs to the court and Cal's belongs to the queen, they cannot deny their attraction to each other. But now, with war on the horizon and true love at risk, Shadow and Cal will uncover a shocking web of lies that will change their paths forever.

—WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED AT THE END OF THIS BOOK??? I figured out the so-called twist like...two chapters in. Fine, ok, whatever. It’s YA, this is not rocket science and I was interested enough in Cale and Shadow to see how it all played out. Only it didn’t really play out! Because the whole end was just this like four chapter retcon of basically EVERYTHING ELSE THAT HAPPENED and I genuinely could not believe it was happening. It didn’t make sense?!? Like with the plot? Also, spoiler, good thing Shadow and the other king haven’t consummated their marriage yet since she and Cale totally fucked after her wedding? What is YA? Why is Amazon telling me this is a Teacher’s Pick? Why hasn’t my hold come through on the sequel yet so I know what happens next?

Low-Stakes Romance Was Real Boring and All The People Were Boring In It

The Ten Rules for Faking It by Sophie Sullivan

As birthdays go, this year’s for radio producer Everly Dean hit rock-bottom. Worse than the “tonsillectomy birthday.” Worse than the birthday her parents decided to split (the first time). But catching your boyfriend cheating on you with his assistant? Even clichés sting. But this is Everly’s year! She won’t let her anxiety hold her back. She’ll pitch her podcast idea to her boss. There’s just one problem. Her boss, Chris, is very cute. (Of course). Also, he's extremely distant (which means he hates her, right? Or is that the anxiety talking)? And, Stacey the DJ didn’t mute the mic during Everly’s rant about Simon the Snake (syn: Cheating Ex). That’s three problems. Suddenly, people are lining up to date her, Bachelorette-style, fans are voting (Reminder: never leave house again), and her interest in Chris might be a two-way street. It’s a lot for a woman who could gold medal in people-avoidance. She’s going to have to fake it ‘till she makes it to get through all of this. Perhaps she’ll make a list: The Ten Rules for Faking It. 

— I am a broken record. Shouting. From the highest hilltop. Just because you think someone is cute when you’re technically not supposed to be dating them does not mean you get to be anything less than nice around them! It’s not cute! And part two, which often goes with part one: rom com dudes have GOT to stop lying or hiding or otherwise avoiding telling people who they really are. It’s a convoluted, passably lazy way of writing and dropping a third-act bomb on the story. Don’t do it. Stop doing it. We’ve moved past the need for hidden identities. Unless he’s, like, a spy or something. Um...this was a weird book. I know Everly had anxiety and that became a PLOT POINT, patent pending, but she was also not super relatable? Which is crazy considering my very real, rather undiagnosed anxiety. Chris was boring. The whole plot, as this title suggests, was very low stakes and no one actually  seemed to remember that their jobs were ever on the line? Did Everly and Chris have a conversation before they decided they liked each other? Who can say, really.

Shipped by Angie Hockman

Between taking night classes for her MBA and her demanding day job at a cruise line, marketing manager Henley Evans barely has time for herself, let alone family, friends, or dating. But when she’s shortlisted for the promotion of her dreams, all her sacrifices finally seem worth it. The only problem? Graeme Crawford-Collins, the remote social media manager and the bane of her existence, is also up for the position. Although they’ve never met in person, their epic email battles are the stuff of office legend. Their boss tasks each of them with drafting a proposal on how to boost bookings in the Galápagos—best proposal wins the promotion. There’s just one catch: they have to go on a company cruise to the Galápagos Islands...together. But when the two meet on the ship, Henley is shocked to discover that the real Graeme is nothing like she imagined. As they explore the Islands together, she soon finds the line between loathing and liking thinner than a postcard. With her career dreams in her sights and a growing attraction to the competition, Henley begins questioning her life choices. Because what’s the point of working all the time if you never actually live?

— YOU NEED TO HAVE A CONVERSATION WITH SOMEONE TO DECIDE YOU LIKE THEM. AUTHORS REALLY REALLY NEED TO LEARN HOW TO BUILD ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIPS. IF THEY ONLY LIKE EACH OTHER BECAUSE THEY KISS WELL IT’S NOT A GOOD RELATIONSHIP. AND THIS IS COMING FROM ME. Back at it again with the annoying so-called heroine who was just...occasionally real mean to Graem for no reason at all? Also her name was Henley. Which is not a great reason to dislike her, but here we are.

Apparently I Read These Books Out Of Order. Who Knew?

Pride, Prejudice and Other Flavors by Sonali Dev

It is a truth universally acknowledged that only in an overachieving Indian American family can a genius daughter be considered a black sheep.

Dr. Trisha Raje is San Francisco’s most acclaimed neurosurgeon. But that’s not enough for the Rajes, her influential immigrant family who’s achieved power by making its own non-negotiable rules:

·       Never trust an outsider

·       Never do anything to jeopardize your brother’s political aspirations

·       And never, ever, defy your family

Trisha is guilty of breaking all three rules. But now she has a chance to redeem herself. So long as she doesn’t repeat old mistakes.

Up-and-coming chef DJ Caine has known people like Trisha before, people who judge him by his rough beginnings and place pedigree above character. He needs the lucrative job the Rajes offer, but he values his pride too much to indulge Trisha’s arrogance. And then he discovers that she’s the only surgeon who can save his sister’s life.

As the two clash, their assumptions crumble like the spun sugar on one of DJ’s stunning desserts. But before a future can be savored there’s a past to be reckoned with...

A family trying to build home in a new land.

A man who has never felt at home anywhere.

And a choice to be made between the two.

— Surprise, apparently this was the first book in the series. I did not know. It didn’t affect my enjoyment of the Persuasion version in this same ‘verse, which is also strange because I liked the Persuasion one way better. There was a lot of medical in this. And not super uplifting medical, either. This was like...oh the Jane character (I guess???) has cancer and either she’s going to go blind after having a surgery (also she was an artist, so you see how this was a problem) or she’s just going to decide to die. Wait, what? That came out of left field, really. Also DJ and Trisha were not nice to each other. Like, I know this is Pride and Prejudice so there has to be some of that at the start, but it wasn’t like Trisha ever really went through the Darcy-required time at Pemberly. She just decided she liked DJ and told him and it was as awkward as Jane Austen intended it, but then we got more medical and everything was cool. It felt very rushed and shoehorned into a modern setting and the Persuasion one was better. You can’t have Darcy’s growth without the Pemberly stuff. You just can’t.

In Which I Didn’t Like a Nickname??? Is the World Ending??

Crazy Stupid Bromance by Lyssa Kay Adams

Alexis Carlisle and her cat café, ToeBeans, have shot to fame after she came forward as a victim of a celebrity chef’s sexual harassment. When a new customer approaches to confide in her, the last thing Alexis expects is for the woman to claim they’re sisters. Unsure what to do, Alexis turns to the only man she trusts—her best friend, Noah Logan.   Computer genius Noah left his rebellious teenage hacker past behind to become a computer security expert. Now he only uses his old skills for the right cause. But Noah’s got a secret: He’s madly in love with Alexis. When she asks for his help, he wonders if the timing will ever be right to confess his crush.   Noah’s pals in The Bromance Book Club are more than willing to share their beloved “manuals” to help him go from bud to boyfriend. But he must decide if telling the truth is worth risking the best friendship he’s ever had.

— If Noah was going to call her Lexa, then her name should have been Alexa and not Alexis. That’s it and that’s all. Also, the story was n u t s. Estranged dads and kidney failure and they got together so fast in this book. Which usually is cool by me, but I really could not get over the nickname and the estranged family was mean to Alexis. Lexa. HER NAME SHOULD HAVE BEEN ALEXA, IT DOESN’T MAKE SENSE. Also Noah was a former hacker? The estranged family accused him corporate espionage or something? A lot happened in this book, guys. Her name should have been Alexa.

Dumb Brother Was Dumb™ Everyone Else Was Real Cute

The Off Limits Rule by Sarah Adams

I have found rock bottom. It's here, moving in with my older brother because I'm too broke to afford to live on my own. It's okay though, because we've always been close and I think I'm going to have fun living with him again.

 That is until I meet Cooper...

 Turns out, my brother has very strong opinions on the idea of me dating his best friend and is dead set against it. According to him, Cooper is everything I should stay away from: flirtatious, adventurous, non-committal, and freaking hot. (I added that last part because I feel like you need the whole picture.) My brother is right--I should stay away from Cooper James and his pretty blue eyes. He's the opposite of what I need right now.

 Nah--who am I kidding? I'm going for it.

— This was cute, mostly mindless fluff. Hit some trope high points, including, obviously, best friends sister. Only the brother in question was a Neanderthal and I really thought people were going to make out more while said brother was on his business trip. I got it for free off Amazon. Which I think should explain a lot. Like, story-wise. Sorry, free Amazon books. Don’t be insulted.

Prose, Prose, Prose, Please Someone Have a Conversation

Trick by Natalia Jaster

In the Kingdom of Spring, Poet is renowned. He's young and pretty, a lover of men and women. He performs for the court, kisses like a scoundrel, and mocks with a silver tongue. Yet allow him this: It's only the most cunning and manipulative soul who can play the fool. For beyond the castle walls, Poet guards a secret. One the Crown would shackle him for. One that he'll risk everything to protect. Alas, it will take more than clever words to deceive Princess Briar. Convinced that he's juggling lies as well as verse, this righteous nuisance of a girl is determined to expose him. But not all falsehoods are fiendish. Poet's secret is delicate, binding the jester and princess in an unlikely alliance—and kindling a breathless attraction, as alluring as it is forbidden.

— The purplest of prose. Mauve prose. Royal purple prose. Lavender prose. There was so much writing here. So much. Too much, some might say. I say. Actually. If we want to get specific. And that was a shame, really, because when Briar and Poet actually had a conversation, they were interesting to read about. Also, the world building here? Yeeeesh. The so-called, wait for it, FOOL TRADE played a prominent role and that was...super cringe. Super Cringe. That being said, I asked Justin what I should read next and he thought it was funny that a book was just called...

Dare by Natalia Jaster

In the Kingdom of Summer, they say she's wild. Locked in a cage by the sea, Flare dreams of escape. She dreams of a lost world, known only in legends. The island is calling to her. And she won't let anyone keep her from it. Especially not him. They say he's cruel. Jeryn has crossed the ocean for the Trade, to bargain for those fierce, imprisoned creatures that make his skin crawl. By law, they're subjects meant for experimentation. And easy to despise. One girl in particular. But on the cusp of transport, the tide rages. That hidden island awaits. Stranded, the prince and prisoner must fight to survive. In a mysterious rainforest, they must band together...if they don't slay one another first. Or become something more to each other.  Something just as dangerous.

— This was Justin’s fault. He could not believe this book was just called Dare. It should have been called “We’re going to weirdly force what is basically slavery into this story and then a prince is going to fall in love with an escaped slave and we’re also going to call that ROMANCE.” y i k e s. Remember that one story that took place over three days? This was the complete opposite. Years! They were shipwrecked for years! They got saved, spoilers, the DAY they started having sex. What are the odds, right?? And then MORE YEARS passed. Multiple years! Five years! They couldn’t actually be together because of that aforementioned slave trade. What the shit, man? Natalia, ya gotta be kidding me with this. The internet claimed Trick was good and a solid follow to reading ACOTAR and that there was this whole verse and it was also good. The internet was wrong.

Nothing Happened, Everything Happened, I...Hated It

Graceling by Kristin Cashore

Kristin Cashore’s bestselling, award-winning fantasy Graceling tells the story of the vulnerable-yet-strong Katsa, a smart, beautiful teenager who lives in a world where selected people are given a Grace, a special talent that can be anything from dancing to swimming. Katsa’s is killing. As the king’s niece, she is forced to use her extreme skills as his thug. Along the way, Katsa must learn to decipher the true nature of her Grace… and how to put it to good use. A thrilling, action-packed fantasy adventure (and steamy romance!) that will resonate deeply with adolescents trying to find their way in the world.

— I can’t believe this was a book. Katsa was so annoying! Like, listen, I know her life was sad. And she was a pawn being used against her will. Blah, blah, blah. Whatever. The tone of the whole book was so strangely formal and Poe was strangely in love with Katsa? Who obviously didn’t want to get married because she was WOMAN HEAR ME ROAR. Or kill people, as the case may be. Only she wanted to make out with Poe? Only ONLY they didn’t even really get together at the end? I could not believe the end of this book. I nearly threw my Kindle across the room. Once again, no apologies for spoilers because do not read this book, but HE WAS BLIND? Katsa had to leave him behind to save his cousin and he just ENDED UP BEING BLIND? AND THEY NEVER GOT TOGETHER REALLY?? What the fuck? Seriously. Steamy romance, my ass. Nothing happened. The villain got defeated in point two seconds. There are other books in this universe? No, thanks.

[vicariousgirl]

austin hopes

the idea of moving to austin after i finish my degree is growing on me. my sister is looking for a roommate for the next academic year. i have always loved the idea of spending more time in austin but never considered it seriously. as a senior in college, i used to check the ut austin job board when i was feeling dreamy. it would be a welcome change of pace, to a place with less pretention about college or work than my current (read: beloved and familiar) bay area. i adore the colorado river running through the city. i would be so content to spend my evenings floating down the water with white claw and a speaker. i love the food scene: tex-mex, taiwanese food, plenty of food truck greats turned fast-casual restaurant. i would love to be active in the live music scene, watching new bands come up.

what always held me back from thinking about a move was my lack of social network in town - other than my sister, who is a busy college student who likely would not be able to hang out much. however, the pandemic and quarantine has changed my perspective, though i am having trouble articulating exactly how so. perhaps it is simply the natural course of growing older, caring less about social anxieties. maybe i am more comfortable with starting over again, after having done so in the uk this year and meeting many lifelong friends. this time around, i mind less the idea of spending most of my time in solitude, something i have sought to avoid in previous stages of my life. in fact, after spending 6 months at my parents’ full house, i may even crave the quiet. i do not mind the idea of making new friends, trying my hand at the first impressions and house parties. perhaps it is an emerging ability to listen to my instincts more, leaning into the knowledge that i have always fantasized about a life in austin, perhaps equally or more so than a life in new york. my fantasy about austin has always been about the city itself, while my fantasy about new york was always about friends and the city together. what makes my fantasy about austin special is that it seems more unique to my mind and soul - a more specific match between the city’s treasures and the things that feed my spirit - than my fondness for new york, which has always been tied up in media portrayals and my love for the dear friends who live there.

the cons of this plan are few but notable. i would be away from my parents and kid sister, whom i adore. i would miss out on game and movie nights, easy conversations on the patio. i am not sure when we would have a long period of time together like this ever again, as i venture into the world of full-time work and phd programs. i would miss my kid sister’s junior year of high school - i was starting to get excited about this possibility, when i had previously thought that i would be away for most of her adolescence. i know this year would not be easy for her, considering that her education and life outside of school has been substantially impacted by the pandemic. i would need to resume responsibility for grocery shopping and making my own meals, which have been generously covered by my parents as an extension of their normal household provisions. i would need to get a car, something i have tried to avoid, because i dislike the idea of being responsible for upkeep, insurance, and not hurting people with a 2-ton hunk of rapidly moving metal. i will probably get lonely, in a way that i never do when i am around my family because there is always someone with whom to have a chat or watch a tv show. 

ideally, i would like to work in research admin at university of texas. i want to continue working in psychology research, maybe on ptsd, depression, or alcohol use disorder. i am curious about what it is like to work at a public university, which is where i would like to teach if i were to stay in academia. in austin, i would feel more able to engage in local politics, because the state capital is in town. i have always been excited about politics in texas, because it is a politically diverse state with considerable potential to influence immigration policy. i would get involved with immigrants’ rights organizing, aim to create lasting relationships with people in this community, one that i was in touch with in los angeles but have since let go. i like the idea of working as a barista for awhile as i search for an ideal research position, meeting locals in the neighborhood as i make latte art. 

most importantly, i am hopeful that the space i would have in austin - in both body and mind - would give me the perspective i need to be more intentional about my dream of working as a writer. i have talked about writing for almost 2 years now, with small steps toward freelance work, because i have been busy with deadlines or other school-related commitments. after i finish my master’s degree, i believe i will be ready to take on this new challenge of creating a unique career as a writer who covers mental health - via psychology, neuroscience, and health policy. next steps are to connect with people who already work in science writing and health journalism: ask them about how this industry functions, their tips for a new writer, how to pitch well and often. whew! okay! i am putting this out into the world to keep myself accountable. it feels a little scary to write down these thoughts, with tangible steps in place. i am nervous about the risk of failure - the epic sort: not just a few rejections, but numerous over a long period of time. i know the media industry is contracting right now, and many talented, experienced writers are out of work. in that case, i suppose i will find other ways to pay the bills. but i am reaching a point where i feel like i cannot delay these plans any longer. a morbid thought, brought on by thoughts of mortality in this wretched pandemic: if i die in the next year, i want to be remembered for my ideas - memorialized in writing - and for my love and care toward friends and family.

of course, all of this yearning and pondering is contingent on the pandemic getting better by this fall or, at the latest, by next spring. this pandemic has shot all my plans - to return to oxford, to move to new york, to stay in the bay area on my own terms. but honestly, as an eternal optimist, i truly do not know any other way than to dream about the future. i am hopeful that i will carve out a life for myself that i love, whatever shape it takes.

may 18, 2020

[dreamly-uwu]

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Our Law Firm Location

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[astudyinfic]

Feeding Hamsters and Slapping Chickens || Zanewinder ficlet

So, I found this image online a while ago and I couldn’t get the idea out of my head that this is totally a question Sidewinder would ask, and something Zane could easily calculate.  Which led to this.  That is the only explanation I have for what you are about to read.  I’ll post it on AO3 in a little while but for now, here you go. -J

It started innocently enough.  As innocent as anything involving team Sidewinder could be.  When Kelly decided to get married, he made the group chat to keep the team informed of changes to the plan.  His bride couldn’t make up her mind so dates and attire seemed to change with the tides.  There were some occasional random posts but mostly they kept it on topic.

Then came the divorce and the plan to move him out of there and back to the cabin.  This time there was good-natured ribbing thrown in because they wouldn’t be team Sidewinder if they didn’t give one another crap all the time.

After that, they all thought it would fade away.  There were easier ways to keep in touch and none of them needed any motivation to contact the others.  They were brothers, family.  No group chat could make them closer than that.

Until Nick had an undercover gig that made him a little worried.  Instead of sending a text to each one of them, he just shot a message out over the chat.

<Irish> Undercover for undisclosed amount of time.  If not back in a month, you know what to do.

They all had contingency plans in place in case something happened.  None of them even needed to ask but Eli felt the need to chime in anyway.  

<EZ> Don’t worry.  We’ll feed the hamster for you.

<Six> Hamster?

<Digger> Somethings wrong in your head, E

<Ozone> And that’s coming from Digger!

And so it began.  First, it was simply Monty Python quotes, much to Nick’s dismay when he returned from his case to find two hundred messages, each and every one of them referencing the movies they’d all watched while in Jacksonville.  But once they started repeating quotes, the tone shifted once more to be random things about their daily lives, information that wouldn’t necessarily come up in a regular conversation but was interesting enough to share with everyone.

Ty offered to add him to the chat but Zane refused every time.  Dealing with Sidewinder’s insanity was hard enough from the outside.  If he got dragged into the middle of it, he didn’t know how he would survive.

To be honest, he should have known he wouldn’t be able to avoid it forever.  They’d all mentioned they considered him part of the team now, something he didn’t take lightly.  Sooner or later, it meant becoming part of Sidewinder’s inner workings, as terrifying as that might be.  

On a rare quiet night in, Zane worked on one of his paintings while Ty sprawled on the couch scrolling his phone.  Judging by the look on his face, Zane knew what he was looking at and silently prayed that it wasn’t something that would require getting shot at or possibly blown up.  Ty cackled, his eyes crinkling around the corners in the way that Zane found irresistible and looked up at him with obvious delight.

“Doc has a question,” Ty said and Zane braced himself.  He loved Kelly Abbott but whenever he posed a question, it was usually something no one else would ever think.  Ever.  In the history of humanity.  Ty grinned and read it to Zane.  “If kinetic energy is converted to thermal energy, how hard would I have to slap a chicken to cook it?”  

After a couple of slow blinks where Zane’s mind struggled to understand if he really heard that right, Zane set down his paintbrush and walked out of the room without another word.  “Seriously, Lone Star!  That is hardly the worst thing you’ve heard us say.”  Zane didn’t reply, ignoring his boyfriend.  Ty called for him once more before going back to whatever he’d been doing, probably debating the merits of a slap-cooked chicken.   That sounded like something they would do.  

After five minutes, Zane returned to the room and plucked the phone from Ty’s hands.  He typed a message into the group chat and went back to his painting without saying anything.  Ty’s gaze was tangible on his back but he ignored him, intent on staying out of it from now on.  

<Six> 3725.95mph

<Ozone> How do you know that?

<Digger> That’s something, that’s what that is.

<Irish> Garrett?

<Six> Garrett

“Do I even want to know how you calculated that?” Ty asked from his place on the couch, drawing a smile from Zane’s lips.

He shook his head, glancing over his shoulder at his lover.  “No, probably not.  But if they just want to slap a chicken normally to cook it, it would take about twenty-four thousand slaps to do it.”

And so it began.  Every time they had a question, Zane would do the math and give them the answer.  At some point, it became a game, trying to stump Zane with a question even he couldn’t calculate the answer to.

<Doc> How hard would you have to hit someone in the head with a golf ball to kill them?

“You realize your friends are terrifying and quite possibly psychotic, right?” he asked Ty, shaking his head in what he wished was disbelief.  At that point, he’d knew too much about Sidewinder to be anything but resigned.

Ty chuckled and nodded.  “Yeah, aren’t they great?”  

With a sigh, Zane went back to his work.  He’d forgotten who he was talking too.  Terrifying and quite possibly psychotic summed up Ty better than almost any other phrase he could come up with.

A few moments later, Ty called out, “Anyone know how much force is necessary to kill someone by hitting them in the temple?”  The whole office fell silent and stared at him for a moment.  Ty stared back before shrugging.  “Alright.  I’ll take that as a no.”

“How do you even work with him?” Alston asked Zane, looking at him with wide eyes.  

Zane just raised a brow, eyes glancing towards his lover then back at Scott.  “You have to know how to handle him and you have to know when to just let things go.”  And Zane knew how to handle Ty better than anyone.  Or at least he hoped.  He’d heard no complaints so far.

Ty wasn’t listening, typing furiously on his phone and Zane feared what he would see if he looked over at it.  He heard a barking laugh from his partner and turned in time to see Ty pushing away from his desk.  “Garrett!  We need to go.  Important work to do.”  While plenty of paperwork had piled up on his desk, Zane was happy to grab any excuse to get Ty out of there before things started blowing up.  It really wasn’t a good idea to let that man get bored.  

The lunchroom microwave was a testament to that.

Shrugging at the rest of the team, Zane grabbed his jacket and followed Ty out of the office, only asking once they were in the elevator, “What important work do we have to do?”

“Need to figure out an answer to Doc’s question of course.”

The question “Why?” was on the tip of his tongue but Zane also knew better than to ask it.  It would only lead to more headaches.  “If I calculate it for you, can we find something more entertaining to do with the rest of our afternoon?”  Because while he didn’t want to give Sidewinder any ideas, he knew that if he did a few equations, Ty might reward him.  Preferably in some way that ended with them both naked.

Or he might end up dead.  With Ty and Sidewinder, you just never knew.

[leonawriter]

To Change A Sombre Morrow (chapter twelve)

Read it on AO3

Fandom: Final Fantasy VII

Characters: Genesis, Yuffie, assorted others.

Summary: Time travel is that one kind of thing where it’s the plot of figuring out who you are in the dark, because the only ones watching are either ghosts, or memories. Genesis is working on it. It’s taking time.

...

The most irritating thing about being put into a war you no longer had any interest in fighting for, Genesis had to say, was the fact that there was no longer any sense of interest in it.

There was nothing holding him there, and when accosted by Wutaian soldiers it was sometimes hard to remember to take things seriously.

Especially when the last thing he wanted was to accidentally tell his entire contingent that he didn't even want these people dead. 

Well, no, strictly speaking that would be a lie; after long enough with what often felt like hardly an hour passing without yet another Wutai spy or soldier crawling out of the woodwork like ants or lice...

His patience was getting thin enough that if they hadn't been in the middle of a forested area, the next one who tried to attack them on the sly would have ended up with a face full of fireball. The last one had come close. It had only been the result of Genesis' own not inconsiderable ability to control the strength of his spells that had resulted in one shocked and singed Wutaian, and a few scorched but otherwise unharmed trees.

His unit was currently only approximately a mile away from Fort Tamblin, and he himself was perched up in a tree some distance from the perimeter of the town Shinra's forces had taken over a few months back, not even caring about what the reactions would be to the hole in his coat opening up again when it had been threatening to do so for some time now, and if his wing hadn't undone all of that hard work, then the sharp branches and bark of the tree he was in would have done the trick.

All in all, the peace and quiet away from inquisitive troops was something that he'd been in sore need of. The one thing that made things less than perfect had to be the sheer amount of things that seemed to think that just because he had feathers and wasn't currently feeling like moving, it clearly meant that he was free real estate to be crawled over and to be used as a hiding place.

Not for the first time, he flipped his PHS open, and thumbed his way into the spam folder of his messages. Knowing the sorts of people who could potentially hack into his phone if they decided that they wanted to, he had long since decided that it was hardly worth the bother of attempting anything too blatant of an attempt at keeping secrecy. 

The last mail from that particular number flashed up on the screen.

You've been quiet.

The message was dated several days ago. 

If nothing else, they'd come to the decision that if the Turks were going to find out that Genesis was having discussions with someone that bordered on treason, then they'd also find out a few interesting home truths about the company they were paid to be lapdogs for.

As yet, no one had. Despite the part of him that was relieved for it, there was another part that was almost disappointed in them.

I've been leading a squad into an active war zone. Which isn't entirely new territory for me, but it has been some time. 'Quiet' is the last word I'd use to describe it.

He hesitated for a moment, before sending. 

It wasn't wrong for him to say that it wasn't new territory - he had done this sort of thing before. Many times. He, along with Sephiroth, Angeal, and many others - some of whom had survived, while others had not - had led troops onto the field of war, living up to the name of SOLDIER. It was where their other titles had come from, those of General and Commander. Ones that... well, perhaps they didn't hold the same official status as First Class, but anyone who'd been involved in the war at all came away knowing that while there were plenty of SOLDIERs of any rank, there was only one General, and there were only two Commanders. 

It was easy to forget when he was surrounded by Shinra propaganda again, how the idea that he had become known as the Crimson Commander because of his hair, his coat, and his sword was not strictly true-

His PHS chimed. Only a few minutes since he'd sent his reply, and there was a response already.

Anything to be concerned over?

In another timeline, several hundred or so people would be dead or as good as by now. Several of whom had been showing concern over him in the past few days.

No.

It was the truth, after all.

I have a plan.

There was movement underneath him, and it took all of his willpower to stay still, not twitch, and not shake the feathers of his wing to get rid of the itch that was starting to form. In the time it took Vincent to respond, he'd sent a quick mail to one of the Seconds to inform them that Wutaian forces had been spotted some distance from their camp.

Your last plan resulted in you almost dying. I'm tempted to bring a fire extinguisher.

He rolled his eyes, and pointedly chose not to respond to that.

You can't change anything if you're dead. Remember that.

...

The first time he'd met her, she had thoroughly ignored him. 

Genesis had walked through the door of Seventh Heaven behind Cloud, Weiss a dead weight in his arms. A dark haired woman in black had sat behind the bar, talking animatedly to a younger woman with shorter dark hair, but they'd looked up at the intrusion.

Cloud had explained, in short, who Genesis was, introduced Tifa, and what was going on. About Weiss. 

The one he had been told was Tifa had narrowed her eyes at him, but then put all of her focus on Cloud, asking him what was needed, and if they should be contacting Reeve - a name that had struck him as familiar, yet he hadn't thought at the time that it could possibly have been the executive he had once only seen in tedious meetings. 

The other one, however, he wouldn't find out much more about until later, and the most he was given at the time was her name, when Tifa had asked after her, apparently concerned about something.

Yuffie, he had learned. And filed the information away for another time, deeming it unimportant, and he had summarily ignored her just as she had him.

After all, he had other matters to attend to, higher priorities. Anything else was easy to brush aside, especially given how he had still been recovering from mana depletion and his fight with Cloud.

He hadn't thought it odd, at the time.

Later he would hear her name again, and wonder why it sounded vaguely familiar, but then get distracted with something else - something more pressing, something more important than someone who didn't seem to want anything to do with him.

The pattern had continued. The girl seemed plenty animated enough with the others, but the moment he would walk into a room, she would trail off or pointedly ignore his presence entirely.

Cloud would twitch for his sword every time he saw Genesis' wing unfurl from his back. Tifa would watch him closely, enough to make him wonder if he'd run into her at some point before to draw her ire, but she never said anything, and he preferred not to poke at sleeping guard dogs. Shelke, dressed in normal clothes and slowly acclimatising to life outside of Deepground herself, had rarely gone out of her way to interact with him, aside from the calculating looks she had sent and the one time she had told him, bluntly, that he wasn't quite so impressive as the files and  reports that she had managed to find on him had suggested.

Compared to all of them, Yuffie's avoidance was nothing out of the ordinary, especially when she wasn't even always around.

And then, the monster attacks had started. 

Even if he wanted to, Genesis could no longer remember what had started it, but someone had suggested that he and Yuffie should go together to investigate. 

Yuffie had refused.

"Oh, this should be real interestin'," he'd heard Cid mutter darkly as everyone's attention had begun to focus in on the two involved.

Cloud had shrugged, eyes narrowing in a familiar way.

"Next to me, you're the one who knows the most about materia. And Genesis knows more than both of us." Ordinarily he would have preened at the compliment, even as matter of fact as it was, but something about the incident had been holding his attention. "We need to find out what's going on, and if it involves materia, then you're the ones best suited to figuring that out."

Despite the praise that had also been aimed her way, Yuffie had merely crossed her arms defiantly, expression stony.

"You think I don't know how good he is with materia? I do, and I don't care! I'm not working with him, and you can't make me!"

Something had struck him about her wording, a sudden sense of urgency in the back of his mind telling him that there was something that he had needed to remember, but it had merely made him frown. Regardless of whatever issue she had with him, there were such things as priorities. 

"Yuffie-"

"Don't 'Yuffie' me! He might be acting nice, but he's nothing more than a monster!" 

Old wounds ached, and Genesis' fist had clenched, leather creaking at the word. He had spent years believing that what she was saying was true. In many ways, it still was, with his inhuman wing garnering stares whenever it came out.

But he had come face to face with the Goddess and come away rejected but alive, and he had made promises, to himself even if to no other, and held other words close, or tried to. That SOLDIER... didn't mean monster. It was something to live up to, at least.

"Yuffie, that's enough."

Cloud's voice had snapped him back to reality, and he had breathed in with a hiss, his jaw clenched.

"You want to know what they called him? Do you? They called him 'the Crimson Commander'. When he was destroying my home. They'd burn villages and crops and kill people and then they'd go back home and get called heroes." A part of him had wanted to refute that, say that it had only been Sephiroth who had been lauded as the hero, but he'd held back. And then, for the first time, she had turned to him, looked him in the eye in the midst of the silence. "You can't even try to deny it, can you?"

He couldn't. It wasn't as though she was wrong.

"That was a long time ago," he said instead. "People change."

The one thing that he would never forget about the entire exchange, was how Yuffie's face - so often open while around other people, full of confidence and immaturity - twisted with anger and ugly hatred. 

"You," she had said, hands gripping her upper arms and voice barely holding in her emotions, "will never be a hero."

...

The fact that he's cleaning blood from his sword with a dark frown as he walks back into camp might contribute to the way that he notices that the SOLDIERs and infantry alike give him a wide berth for a while. It makes his jaw tense, the way that some of them look at him, but he consoles himself with the fact that it's probably safer this way - safer that they're keeping a distance while he's in a foul mood and lost in old memories of places and people now lost to him.

One of the Wutai soldiers had waited around instead of going with the others.

Having been on his own, it shouldn't have been that big of a deal; he could have encouraged the man to leave, planting the idea that he had motives that were separate from Shinra's orders.

The world, however, was far from perfect. Genesis had only seen that there was anyone else still there after he had come down out of the tree he had been sitting in, his wing still on full display as he used it in order to float effortlessly down.

Dead men didn't speak - especially dead men who weren't called Sephiroth. Not dead men who had no trace of Jenova, and no connection to any Ancients.

That was all the Wutai were, when it came down to it. 

Ordinary people, with no real power, and no connection to anything that would give them that power. They would be crushed under Shinra in any and every timeline because of this, because no matter how hard they fought, compared to SOLDIER they had no chance. None at all.

Blood stained the cloths he was using to clean Rapier crimson, and Genesis knew that it was going to take more than that to clean his sword.

[veritascara]

Why I am still Very Worried about Kanan and Ezra’s fates

So there’s been a whole lot of discourse going around again about what the series end of Rebels (just in advance of the original trilogy) means for Kanan and Ezra and their Jedi ways, and rather than hijacking one of the many posts going around about it decided it wisest to throw my own hat in the ring. While I’m not on the slightly silly “OMG, Kanan and Hera kissed, so now he’s going to die” train, I still have two very big reasons for concern that I haven’t seen others bring up--ones that come primarily from outside of the television show, rather than within it.

Behold my anxieties beneath the cut, as this gets long:

1. Grand Moff Tarkin

This one has been weighing on me ever since season one. Look forward with me to A New Hope. The Millennium Falcon has been taken aboard the Death Star and its various members are working to rescue Leia/escape. Vader senses Kenobi’s presence and goes to Tarkin to inform him of this, who replies with this statement:

“The Jedi are extinct. Their fire has gone out in the universe. You my friend are all that’s left of their religion.”

Extinct? All that’s left of their religion? Tarkin has been involved in some capacity with the hunt for Kanan since season one. He knows Kanan and his padawan are out there, and so does Vader himself. So you can be darn well sure he would know Kanan and Ezra’s current status, since they’re spent the last four standard years messing with his plans throughout the galaxy. And I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t be saying this unless he was certain this was no longer the case; it would create a continuity issue. And while George Lucas tended to play fast and loose with established original trilogy canon as he created the prequels and various backstories, Pablo & co. have consistently taken it much more seriously.

Then here’s the other:

2. Mon Mothma

The Chandrilan senator-turned-Rebellion-leader met the Ghost crew last season in “Secret Cargo,” and they have been fully under her umbrella, working from the Yavin IV base, in season four. Mon Mothma clearly knows Kanan, and we’ve witnessed her work her mentoring magic on Ezra in “In the Name of the Rebellion.” She’s clearly very aware of and supportive of the Rebellion’s resident Jedi.

But by the time we get to Rogue One, we hear this concerning exchange between her and Bail:

“We will need every advantage.” (Bail)

“Your friend, the Jedi...” (Mon)

“He served me well in the Clone Wars and has lived in hiding since the emperor’s purge. Yes, I will send for him.” (Bail)

A bit nebulous? Yes. But it’s more than a little worrisome to hear her talking like they don’t have any Jedi around anymore, when they’ve just had a pair.

But it gets worse. Flashing forward to the point in A New Hope where the Death Star is bearing down on Yavin IV, we get Mon Mothma’s perspective of the situation in “Contingency Plan” in the From a Certain Point of View story collection, where we get this dire statement:

Ummmm, WHAT?? So this quote is referring directly to Obi Wan’s recent death, but the last is dead?? What about the Jedi and padawan that have been part of her rebellion for the past several months??? She’s not mincing words here, and the statement isn’t ambiguous.

So what does this mean for our Force-wielding duo? In my estimation, not anything good. Death would be the most obvious scenario to reconcile Rebels back to canon, but if Kanan and Ezra don’t die and manage to escape due to some Force craziness, at the very least, it would still have to look like they die, in a way that is apparent to both the Rebellion and Imperial high commands. And wherever they end up, it would need to take them out of commission for the entirety of the Rogue One/OT timeline--about 4-5 years, to avoid issues with Luke’s training and development.

Could it work out differently? Could Kanan be lost, and Ezra live on, perhaps going his own way to continue pursuing justice on Lothal? Maybe. But Tarkin isn’t one to discount the power of youth and ignore a (now well-trained) padawan on the loose, and Mon still think’s they’re dead.

And how does Hera figure into Mon’s knowledge? We know Hera goes back to actively work for the rebellion throughout the OT. If she knows Kanan and Ezra are still alive and out there somewhere, would she really keep this information from Mon Mothma? Would she be able to hide her natural relentless optimism if she doesn’t believe herself that her beloved and her adopted son are unequivocally lost? That seems to go against her character to me. She’s all about finding hope in hopeless situations and harnessing it. Maybe rebellion leaders might believe she’s just in denial of her apparent loss, but that seems silly for them to think of someone whose judgment they trust enough to have just minted a general.

I have so many questions and would love to hear all your thoughts on this, but those are my biggest concerns, and they weigh pretty heavily on my mind.

(TL;DR - Tarkin’s and Mon Mothma’s own statements make it pretty apparent that they no longer think there are any other surviving Jedi left in the galaxy, and I am preparing for a broken heart.)

[armeniaitn]

Armenian Expert Azadian: Russian Military Base In Armenia Is A Deterrent Against The Turkish ...

New Post has been published on https://armenia.in-the.news/politics/armenian-expert-azadian-russian-military-base-in-armenia-is-a-deterrent-against-the-turkish-47217-11-08-2020/

Armenian Expert Azadian: Russian Military Base In Armenia Is A Deterrent Against The Turkish ...

In an article titled “Russian Base Casts Long Shadow on Armenia, Turkey,” Armenian intellectual Edmond Y. Azadian described the strategic importance of Russia’s military base in Armenia.[1] According to Azadian, although the base may be how Russia maintains its influence in the Caucasus region, it is also a powerful deterrent against any Turkish threat. “To defend its military base, Moscow has to defend Armenia’s territory,” he stressed.

Azadian argued that Armenia cannot afford to underestimate Turkey’s expansionist plans, stressing: “Turkey’s involvement in many conflicts defines its behavior pattern. Either it foments a crisis [in order] to intervene, like it did in Syria, or it takes advantage of destabilized regions, like Iraq and Libya, to expand its empire.” He added: “Following that logic, we cannot rule out the possibility that Ankara precipitated the recent crisis between Armenia and Azerbaijan to begin implementing one of its long-held dreams.”

Below is Azadian’s article, as published in the English-language Armenian weekly Mirror Spectator:

(Source: Youtube.com)

Turkey’s Intent To Intimidate Armenia Is Plain To See

“The threat of war continues to loom on Armenia’s border. The battle in the Tavush region of Armenia was only one episode which may very well be followed by others. The Armenian side is cognizant of the fact that it should not yet rest on its laurels. [2]

“Armenia proved the battle-readiness of its armed forces. But to what extent? President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan has characterized Armenia’s victory against Azerbaijan as a ‘punch well beyond its capacity,’[3] which in strategic terms may be interpreted as the victory by Armenia being the result of tactical assistance from its strategic ally, Russia.

“In today’s wars, drones have expanded the surveillance scope of armies. In this particular battle, the Azerbaijani army, which had boasted of its state-of-the-art military hardware, failed to deploy them properly and thus the Armenian side downed 13 of their drones, in addition to inflicting other critical losses.

“Wars now rely more and more on advanced technology both for weapons and surveillance systems, including satellite imaging, which is beyond Armenia’s reach. This is where an ally’s assistance can make the ultimate difference, and most probably this is what Erdoğan was talking about.

“From July 29 to August 10, the joint forces of Azerbaijan and Turkey are participating in war games on Armenia’s borders, as well as in Baku, Ganja, Erlakh and Nakhichevan, in a very demonstrative way, using live ammunition.

“People in Armenia claim to have spotted Turkish warplanes within striking distance of Yerevan. Although the news was refuted by government sources, the intent of the Turkish side to scare Armenia is plain to see.

“Political analyst Hagop Badalyan very stoically advises people in Armenia to learn to live with the Turkish threat of war but not to be intimidated.

“President Ilham Aliyev of Azerbaijan is back to his bellicose mood, after his defeat in Tavush. He has refused out of hand the seven points proposed by Prime Minister Nikol Pashinyan[4] and has called on Yerevan to withdraw its armed forces from Karabakh immediately, ‘before it’s too late.’

“Answering that threat, Armenia’s Defense Minister David Tonoyan has asked the rhetorical question as to ‘when would it be too late as our armed forces are ready and waiting for the order.’[5]

“While this heated rhetoric is being spouted by all parties, tanks are pulling up on Armenia’s borders and warplanes are flying over them, raising the question as to whether Turkey will attack Armenia.”

In Order To Defend Its Military Base, Moscow Has To Defend Armenia’s Territory

“Russia has taken Turkey’s moves very seriously and it has advanced the date of its own war games, which were planned for September. It has been exercising currently on Azerbaijan’s borders, with the participation of 150,000 soldiers and nuclear warheads as a direct warning to Turkey’s moves.

“On July 28, Defense Minister Tonoyan announced that Armenia’s armed forces have been put on high alert and that the Russian-Armenian military contingent is ‘continuing consistently to monitor and analyze’ Turkish-Azerbaijani military activities ‘with all reconnaissance means’ at its disposal.

“On the sidelines, however, a diplomatic charade is taking place. Despite its aggressive moves and stern threats, Ankara is trying to camouflage its intentions through diplomatic moves. First, Ibrahim Kalin, President Erdoğan’s spokesman, indicated that Turkey is in Nakhichevan to support its ally Azerbaijan and assured the public that Ankara’s moves do not intend to harm its relations with Moscow.

“In his turn, President Erdoğan has taken the initiative to call President Vladimir Putin. During their conversation Putin ‘has stressed the importance of preventing any steps that could cause an escalation in tensions.’[4]

“Once again, the issue of the Russian military base in Gyumri has become a topic of public discussion. Many anti-Russian politicians underestimate the significance of that base. Analysts like Levon Shirinyan and Armenian Parliament members like Arman Babajanyan and pundits like Varoujan Avetissyan (Sasna Tserer) and Tigran Zmalyan (European Party) are adamantly against the base. They try to suggest that Russia has set that base on Armenian territory ‘to enslave us.’

“However, they do not offer any alternative in case Armenia faces an existential threat.

“Granted, the base may be self-serving for Russia to maintain its influence in the Caucasus region. In the meantime, it is a deterrent against any Turkish threat. To defend its military base Moscow has to defend Armenia’s territory.

“In politics, there has to be a confluence of interests so that a major power is motivated to defend the weaker power. There is no free lunch.

Armenian Forces Are No Match For Turkey

“In a recent interview, the director of a political and military analytical center in Russia, Alexander Khramchikhin, confirmed the fact that the Russian base in Armenia is intended to contain Turkey: ‘If a war breaks out between Armenia and Azerbaijan, I am not sure what position Russia may take,’ the analyst stated. ‘But if the war takes place in Karabakh, I know for sure that Russia will not intervene. I repeat, the base is there to contain Turkey. The base is part of Russia’s geostrategic posture. Therefore, it is meant to stop Turkey, the foreign intruder in the region.’

“Mr. Khramchikhin also believes that Turkey has introduced its forces into Azerbaijan to pressure Armenia psychologically. But he believes that Turkey at this time ‘cannot invade Armenia, because it will be stretching its resources too far, as it is mired in many other conflicts.’

“We wished that it were true. Turkey’s involvement in many conflicts defines its behavior pattern. Either it foments a crisis to intervene, like it did in Syria, or it takes advantage of destabilized regions, like Iraq and Libya to expand its empire.

“Following that logic, we cannot rule out the possibility that Ankara precipitated the recent crisis between Armenia and Azerbaijan to begin implementing one of its long held dreams.

“Strategically, Armenia is at the mercy of enemy forces; Turkish armed forces are in mainland Azerbaijan and Nakhichevan, which does not have a common border with the mainland, but has a narrow border with Turkey, acquired after a land swap with Iran in 1932.

“Armenian forces are no match for Turkey. Armenia must avoid any direct confrontation with the Turkish army. But Yerevan has other sources that it can use in diplomatic forums.

“Recently, Armenia’s representative Armen Babikyan raised the issue in Energy Intelligence, a publication of the International Atomic Agency, of Azerbaijan’s threat to bomb its nuclear power plant, Metsamor. On July 27, the issue was discussed at a Vienna conference, which characterized the threat as an act of state terrorism against Armenia.

“Armenia has not weaponized its strongest argument, the fact of genocide. Only after some timid references by Foreign Minister Zohrab Mnatsakanyan did Armenia’s Ambassador to Latvia Tigran Mkrtchyan issue a strongly-worded statement that Armenians will not tolerate a second genocide.

“Jews and Israel shout from the rooftops about the Holocaust they have suffered. We can emulate them and try to score some political points.

“What makes everything even worse is that during this current situation, there is polarization in Armenia. Any responsible and rational leadership would seek internal stability, to withstand the threats.

“The opposition and the government are equally responsible for the ongoing divide in Armenia: the first for its irresponsible and destabilizing rhetoric, and the latter for its witch hunt in rounding up perceived enemies.

“Armenia needs calm, de-escalation and unity. That will not be offered by Russia nor any other outside force. It is in the hands of the leadership to steer the county toward calmer waters.”

[1] Edmond Y. Azadian is Advisor to the Alex and Marie Manoogian Museum in Detroit, Michigan, Advisor from the Diaspora to the Ministry of Culture in Armenia, and member of the Republic of Armenia’s Academy of Sciences. He served as assistant editor of the Armenian daily Zartonk and editor-in-chief of the daily Arev in Cairo, Egypt, and is a leader of the Armenian Democratic Liberal Party. He has authored several books in Armenian and English, including Portraits and Profiles, Observations and Criticisms, and History on the Move; and has edited more than 21 books and published over 1,500 articles, book reviews, and essays in daily newspapers and literary magazines. His latest publication, a bilingual one, is dedicated to the famous Armenian poet, Vahan Tekeyan. He has been associated with the Mirror-Spectator for the last 45 years. Source: Mirrorspectator.com/author/edmond-azadian.

[2] See MEMRI Special Dispatch No. 8886, Armenia-Azerbaijan Tensions – Moscow-Based Expert Krylov: ‘The Turkish Military Presence In Azerbaijan Has Become Permanent’ And Strives For Constant Expansion; Erdoğan’s Policy Aims To Increase Turkey’s Influence – From North Africa To China’s Borders, August 10, 2020; MEMRI Special Dispatch No. 8875, Russian Military Expert Pavel Felgenhauer: Russia Will Defend Armenia From The Turks; If Necessary, Russia Will Save Armenia With A Nuclear Strike, August 3, 2020; MEMRI Special Dispatch No. 8864, Kommersant Columnist Yusin: Erdogan Is Pouring Kerosene On The Territorial Dispute Between Armenia And Azerbaijan, July 27, 2020; and MEMRI Daily Brief No. 226, Where Will Erdoğan Strike Next?, by Alberto M. Fernandez, August 4, 2020.

[4] On July 23, after the Armenian-Azerbaijani border clashes on July 12-14, Armenian Prime Minister Pashinyan put forward the following seven points:

First: The common security system of Armenia and Artsakh needs to be further strengthened. In this regard, I attach an ultimate importance to our close cooperation with the Republic of Artsakh and bringing a new content to this cooperation proportionate to the existing threat.

Second: The Republic of Artsakh should become a full party of negotiations.

Third: Azerbaijan must publicly renounce the use of force and take credible steps towards refraining from the anti-Armenian rhetoric.

Fourth: The negotiations must be meaningful. Azerbaijan’s position that the negotiations are the continuation of war and they should help to address military objectives at the negotiation table undermines the meaning of the whole peace process. Negotiations can be meaningful if Azerbaijan is willing to pull back from its maximalist position and is ready for compromise. The recognition of the right to self-determination of the people of Artsakh without any limitation and the security of the people of Armenia and Artsakh cannot be conceded under any circumstances.

Fifth: In recent days, Azerbaijan has targeted the civilian population and infrastructures of several border settlements in the Tavush region. The countries, supplying weapons to Azerbaijan, must clearly realize that the use of those weapons against the civilian population constitutes a crime. It creates an impression that it is not Azerbaijan that is fighting against the Armenian Armed Forces and civilian population, but rather those international corporations that are supplying high-precision lethal weapons along with their specialists. This thirty-years-long conflict has severely damaged Armenia’s borderline settlements and lives of people living thereon and in Artsakh, violating their political, economic, environmental rights, their right to free movement, among others. The approach that these rights can be exercised only after the settlement of the conflict is not acceptable. The needs of people, living in the conflict zone, must be a priority in the peace process.

Sixth: The ceasefire monitoring, that existed before the pandemic, has been in fact very limited. It is necessary to introduce effective international monitoring, which would be permanent and would have verification mechanisms in place to identify the side who committed ceasefire violations. Such monitoring activities can be implemented by the Office of the Personal Representative of the OSCE Chairman-in-Office, which accumulated years of experience in the region and can ensure the permanent presence of the OSCE observers along the state border and the line of contact.

The direct line between the militaries on the ground is an effective tool for preventing and responding to incidents.

Seventh: Armenia will continue working with the OSCE Minsk Group Co-Chairs toward the peaceful settlement of the conflict. We have decisively rejected and will continue to reject Turkey’s attempts to destabilize the region through the manipulation of this conflict. See Primeminister.am/en/statements-and-messages/item/2020/07/23/Cabinet-meeting-Speech.

[5] Armenian defense minister Davit Tonoyan commented on the statement of Azerbaijani president Ilham Aliyev, who said: “Liberate our territories before it’s too late.” Armenian defense minister spokesperson Shushan Stepanyan posted a video on Facebook in which the defense minister asks when “too late” is; stating: “First of all, given the fact that our Prime Minister, the President of Artsakh are always making peaceful statements, always call for continuing the negotiations, we cannot understand such statements [i.e. by the Azerbaijani president]. As defense minister, I would like to understand when this ‘too late’ is.” He added that such statements are typical also of the Azerbaijani military leadership, saying: “Their military leadership states that they are ready to start military operations, they are just waiting for an order. Firstly, it’s not as if we are not waiting for such an order. Secondly, the military operations in Tavush were vivid evidence of the fact that the adversary, despite using latest equipment, has failed in a short period of time, suffering numerous losses.” Armenpress.am, July 31, 2020.

[6] See En.kremlin.ru/events/president/news/63758.

Read original article here.

[colettascorner]

SL with @BestYoullNvrHve and @TryButYoullLose #WhenThePlanGoesFUBAR

SL #1 - Serving the Warrant

Oliver: [I dressed as if it were a normal day. A good shave, three piece suit, cologne, and before long, I was reading the newspaper as I sipped my coffee in the kitchen.

But today was anything but a normal day.

I was a bundle of a million emotions, but I’d learned long ago to push those down, to exude only confidence and calm. My poker skills were second to none, and I was never beat when it came to closing arguments.

I didn’t doubt my skills, I didn’t doubt my reasons, but approaching Coletta Martinelli was a ballsy move that had very real, deadly consequences if I failed to at least pique her interests or make her question her father’s business.

I knew I was good looking. I knew women fell all over themselves when they were around me. Most, not all. I worked out five days a week, I ate clean, and I just had good genes and plenty of money to spend on facials and such. I considered it a work expense. The jury would judge me by looks first, and I wanted to put forth the best version of myself.

Dating was the same. Best version of me. But at nights, after she’s left or when no one was here, I wondered what it would be like to have a place to let down the facade.

I likely wouldn’t be able to. It was best this way.

I checked the watch on my wrist, Tagheurst, about three grand. It made a good impression. And, as it seemed, it was time to go.

Jimmy stood against the car, and when he saw me, he opened the door. “Where to this morning, Sir?”] We’ll find out soon. Right now, just drive.

Coletta: {For the first time in years, I took full advantage of my station and having no responsibility and relaxed. Numbed myself out with a few joints a day. Read for leisure, went to the spa. Took a lot of baths. After about a week, I was going stir crazy. The silence from my father was deafening although I tried not to let myself dwell on it too much, a sure fire way to become a paranoid hermit. I knew there would still be a tail if and when I left my penthouse, but after a week, I needed to at least get some fresh air. I'd been ignoring the only number that tried to contact me for the better part of a week. What the DA wanted with me, I had know idea. The plan for my involvement in the bar would have eventually turned toward illegal, but I hadn't been there long enough to get those arms of the business established. The best he'd have was a loan shark charge. Surely that could be plead away as no real threat. Even still, I hadn't followed protocol. I hadn't contacted the family attorney as soon as law enforcement made contact. Yet another infraction to add to my list that wouldn't be taken lightly. I don't know why I hadn't. I had no interest in working with the law. The only thing I could think to justify it was that I was shaken. My faith in my father, my position in the family were unknown right now and I didn't like the feeling that had settled into my stomach. I'd been thinking in circles after the texted turned more threatening, and I needed a distraction. Something simple. I'd showered and dressed this morning with no other plan then to head to the Starbucks on the corner, grab some breakfast and an extra calorie latte and read, people watch, be no one for a little while. Maybe do some shopping after that. If I had any friends, it'd be nice to grab lunch, but I didn't. Well, anyone I was friends with was through the “family” so that was an absolute no go. Satisfied with my casual look for the day, I bundled up in my coat and headed out. Back to the life of the living, at least it was easy to blend in, in NYC.}

Oliver: [I answered my phone, hearing the report over the other end of the line: Starbucks. Perfect. I hung up without a word.] Starbucks. [I rattled off the address, tucked my phone back into my jacket pocket, and sat back in the car. That was the perfect spot. There would be a lot of people there, she’d be less likely to make a scene, and maybe since it wasn’t in an office or surrounded by officers, she’d be more willing to talk. Officers were on standby, though, incase something unforeseen happened, but I was confident in my control. I’d stayed up most of the night planning out what I’d say, trying to be several steps ahead if this didn’t go as planned, and I’d decided that there wasn’t anything I couldn’t do to make this happen. I was single now, not even any side attachments, and should it come to that, I could make it happen. She was a beautiful woman, and I was an excellent actor.

The driver stopped in front of the store and came around to let me out. I tapped my cell phone and he nodded before I walked toward the door. I ordered a double shot of espresso, one pump of sugar free caramel, and took it to the back, taking a seat in one of the armchairs and sitting back. I relaxed, crossing one leg over the other. I knew her, but she didn’t know me. It was time to execute. No room for failure.]

Coletta. {Head bowed against the wind, scarf wrapped around the lower half of my face, the walk felt longer than it was in the cold. I'd expected typical weather for NYC in winter, but I should have checked. One of those bone deep bitter cold fronts had the streets emptier than usual. Not ideal when hoping not to be noticed by any of my father’s men the might have been watching the door of my building, but that just seemed my luck lately. No harm, an innocent trip to the coffee shop would hardly be noteworthy when reported back. Ducking into the store, I breathed deep, loving the scent of rich coffee beans in the air. A venti caramel macchiato with coconut milk and an extra.espresso shot with a chocolate crescent had my stomach rumbling as I glanced around for a seat. I chose one as far as I could from the windows, a habit I knew well, as I settled into the corner of a small couch with a side table, crossed my ankles and took my kindle from my bag.}

Oliver: [I saw her walk in, and I waited. Patience was a virtue I possessed in abundance. I looked out the window, counting eyes on the princess, and there were many, but that wasn’t going to deter me. Not one bit. As if it were natural, I stood and moved over to the couch, smiling politely at her as I sat down. On my phone, I dialed her number discreetly, and when it rang, and she ignored me again, I sat back, crossed one leg over another, and held my paper up in front of my face] Tsk, tsk, Miss Martinelli. I informed you of what would happen if you ignored my calls. [I pretended to peruse the articles, staying relaxed] Before you make a decision about how you handle this, let me show you this first. [I flipped to the next page of the paper where the warrant was laid out, letting her see its authenticity if she was able to authenticate it at all] This is a warrant for your arrest for sexual misconduct. Outside, I have a few officers here to help me should I have to serve you with this warrant. I’m hoping I won’t have to. [I knew I should likely be more sympathetic, but such was life.] If you’ll merely listen to my proposal and seriously consider what I have to say, without alerting your detail or your father, this warrant will stay in my possession. You won’t have to go through the embarrassment of the testimony the bar manager gave. It’s quite detailed. [It was also quite trumped up, but there was circumstantial evidence in the form of videos and stills that could be coercive enough to create probably cause and take this to trial. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to test that theory] What do you say, Coletta?

Coletta: {There are moments in life that can change everything, that you well and truly don't see coming. This was it for me. I had just opened my current read, hit ignore on the restricted number incoming call, and sipped my latte, when the man I'd barely noticed sit beside me, spoke. Only years of training at my father's elbow kept my features in check, when every word he spoke had me dying inside. I'd only seen his picture in the papers or on tv, but glancing over, then keeping my gaze on him, I knew exactly who he was...and so would my father's men. I was already dead. I could only imagine the suspicion, the speculation. He'd think that after we'd had our disagreement, I turned tail on him, when the truth was the opposite. That wouldn't matter to my father. He trusted no one. Pulse pounding in my ears, my mind went into survival mode, flipping through the options and scenarios I had left to me. At this moment, my father might be making the kill order. If I bolted, I wouldn't make it three feet outside of the door. I wasn't worried about the charges. I knew they were bullshit. That asshole would never testify against me and risk my father's wrath. Not with his brother's life on the line. No, Mr. District Attorney had greased the wheels on this circus car and I was supposed to perform. As humiliating as it would be, I only had one choice left. I couldn't be witnessed going peacefully so arrest it was. Better to have my name drug through the mud than be dead, right? Maybe not, but still. Sitting up in my seat, I slid my phone and kindle into my bag, before hitching it to my shoulder, not that it would be in my possession for long. Smiling my best customer service smile, I held out my wrists to him, getting in a few words before he read me my rights.} I hope this case will be worth my death on your soul, Mr. Davidson. Although, I do look forward to seeing my attorney rake you over the coals in courts before I go. Did you want to put the cuffs on here? Pretty good scene you'll make. Nice headline for page ten of The Times. Or shall we take this outside? {He may have thought me a wilting flower that could be strong armed, but for as long as I had left, he'd only get the thorns. The thing about a person who has nothing left, is that they have nothing left to lose.}

Oliver:  [This wasn’t what I expected, not in the least. This wasn’t even third or fourth on my contingency plan list. I stared at her wrists for a moment, then looked up at her. I’d underestimated how desperate she was. Desperate wasn’t the right word, though.  This called for a different approach. I stayed calm, though, watching her react, and I kept the paper up so my face was hidden.] Sit back, Miss Martinelli. You’re the only one that’s making a scene. [I turned the page of the paper, hiding the warrant] Your attache can’t see me. I don’t plan on making myself known either, unless, of course, you’re going to do that for me. [I pursed my lips, turning to meet her eyes. She was used to alpha males, being bossed, being controlled. Maybe a more human touch would go a long way. I could do that. I handled a jury.] Coletta, you deserve better than the way you’re being treated. I’ve seen your accomplishments, your grades are superior. You’ve worked hard your entire life. You didn’t ask to be born into this family, and whether you realize it or not, or want to see it, you have options. I’m giving you an option now.  I have a job to do, and sometimes that makes me an asshole. I know you won’t believe me, but I understand this isn’t easy. He’s your father. Mine was demanding growing up too. [I sighed, looking away. Time to do some fancy footwork.] But you and I aren’t the only ones to think about. The Jones’, the Scotts, the Lesters, the Jacobs...these are just four families who’ve been forever impacted by your father. They lost /their/ mother, father, brother or sister. You can help me stop it. We can do something about it. [I met her eyes, trying to be as sincere as I could be. I did want this case because it would make an impact. There was a personal reason for me, but that wasn’t her business.] Just agree to meet me again. Let me show you some things. I’ll take care of the details and it won’t be a problem. [I paused, lowering my voice] Please, Coletta.

Coletta: {The strong arm hadn't worked, so what, here came the empathetic appeal? I was supposed to fold under the emotion weight of my father's crimes because I was a female? Could he be any more textbook? He may have done his homework on me, but he had no idea who I was. I learned how to control my emotions long ago as I watched my father ruin my mother. My heart no longer bled for anyone but me.} Why you think I would trust one word you have to say regarding my safety, I have no idea. Please don't insult me with pleas as though you actually care about anything more than a win. Rumor has it you've got your eye on the mayor’s job, Oliver. I bet taking my father down would lock that position right up for you. {Sneering as I  lifted the coffee to my lips, if he wasn't going to arrest me, I was going to finish enjoying my breakfast before risking the bullet to my brain that might be waiting of me outside. I suddenly wished my coffee was something much stronger.} Good luck with that. Unfortunately, you'll have to find yourself another rat. {I didn't need him telling me how I did or didn't deserve to be treated. I knew I'd been dealt a shitty hand when, even with my MBA, I'd had little choice in the career path I'd be able to take. But I was a survivor. Like my mother. The hope that someday I'd be able to get out like she had was what kept me going. Revenge was a dish best served cold. Someday, I'd get back at my father. Show him exactly who I was, but I wasn't about to trade the control of one strong headed bully for another. Lifting my kindle from my bag once more, I settled back into my seat, studiously ignoring the GQ attorney beside me.}

Oliver: Fine. [I folded the paper down, putting it in my lap and showing my face, scraping every plan I’d come up with in the last week. This woman wasn’t fitting any of the profiles I had on her, but the more she talked, the more I put together my own profile, and the more I realized we weren’t that different.] Six years ago, Miss Martinelli, my brother hit a rough patch. He’d always had problems, gambling, drugs, you name it and Johnny dealt in it. He was my older brother, and I have one younger sister too. Anyways, six years ago he hit rock bottom, got mixed up in your father’s underground gambling. I was just out of law school, trying to get a job anywhere I could. I had aspiration even then, so I changed my last name to mother’s maiden name to distance myself from my brother’s record. I ignored his calls, refused my parents when they asked for help, until I got a call one night from a police contact of mine telling me he’d been found dead in an alley near an old Italian restaurant downtown. Two shots to the back of the head. [I reached over for my own coffee, taking a slow sip, fine with the fact that she was acting like she didn’t even hear me. I’d already resided myself to the fact that I’d underestimated her, and therefore would have to find another plan. I didn’t like to lose, but I hadn’t lost yet. Martinelli had to have another weakness. I didn’t even know why I was finishing my story to her. Maybe just for posterity.] So yes, I have my eye on the mayoral position. Nailing your father would be a step in the right direction. But what I think about almost every day is doing this for my brother, so he wasn’t just another name on a list, and maybe I’ll be able to sleep without wondering what would have happened if I’d have answered my damn phone. [I finished my coffee and stood, reaching out for Coletta’s hand, cradling it carefully in mine as I brought it to my lips and kissed the top.] It’s been a pleasure, truly. You know where to find me. [And with that, I tucked the paper under my arm and headed for the door.]

Coletta: {God fucking damnit. The laundry list of names that could be attributed to my father hadn't ever really affected me. Not really. The exception being putting a face to the names. Once I'd taken a position in the company, I'd made it my secret mission to reduce the collateral damage as much as possible. Whether that meant covering part of the huge percentages my father placed on loans, unbeknownst to anyone, so that the borrower actually had a chance of paying of the debts, or, as in was the case with the bar, taking a more hands on position so that I could act as a buffer, along with the legit business methods I'd put into place, I'd tried to reduce the senseless murders, even if no one ever realized it. The story the DA spun was more than just that. I could see the truth and determination in his eyes in those few covert glances over, I'd chanced. That told me he wasn't giving up. Taking down my father was more than a career move for him. It was person. For me, that meant I could play the game or become a casualty myself. Eyes closed as he stood and walked away, when I opened them, a small business card sat before me. Narrowing my eyes at the heavy stock card, I glanced around to be sure that he was gone before picking it up. The front was his official business card, complete with the little court seal in the corner, but on the back was scratched in penmanship too neat to be a guy's, was, “personal #” followed by the ten digits. Jerk. I should leave it here, I thought as I slipped it into my bag. I took my time, finished my coffee and croissant doing my best impression of relaxed and at ease while keeping a watchful eye on the patrons coming in and out of the shop, looking to see if I recognized anyone. When I couldn't wait any longer, I stood and made my way towards the bathrooms...only I continued down the hall, glanced around and again before pushing through the back exit into the alley. Breathing coming in short pants so that I could see my breath, my pulse pounded in my ears in time with every step I took. Any moment now...at least it would be quick. The walk back to my apartment building, through back alleys, peeking around dumpsters, jumping at the slightest rustling of a garbage bag, was the scariest ten minutes of my life. It took me five minutes to unlock the door to the penthouse my hands were shaking so badly. Once inside I locked and bolted the door, set the alarm and hit the switch on the wall that lowered the privacy blinds. I'd made it back alive, but for how long?}

Oliver: [I pounded the bag, left right, left left right, kicking up my leg and rounding it to hit the bag and send it swinging. I got back into the rhythm, hitting with elbows, bringing his knee up to break a rib or a nose, but only hitting sand. The sweat felt good, and I relished the breaths I sucked in, finally swinging in a flurry of fists, then giving one hard punch. The bag swung high, and I stepped out of the way, reaching down and grabbing my towel and water, taking a long drink and wiping my face, catching my breath.

I looked in the mirror, my profile surprising me a moment. Johnny and I looked so much alike, and the older he got, the more than was true. There would come a time when I’d resemble what my brother would have looked like had he been able to grow older, gracefully, instead of decaying six feet under.

I saw my phone flash on the ground, and I picked it up, pursing my lips at John’s number. I wasn’t ready to explain my failure. He’d likely be pissed his warrant had to stay in limbo, the more time it stood, the more a chance someone would find out. I’d need to go withdraw it soon and decide on a different path.

I’d call him tomorrow.

A knock on the door started me, and it opened on its own. “Sir, we have several CIs that have informed us that there’s been a hit contract taken out on Coletta Martinelli.”]

Fuck…  [I ran my hand through my hair, my gut flipping. If she died, he’d be responsible, even if no one ever knew besides the ones in on the meeting yesterday. I had no choice.]

Go pick her up. Bring her here, then we’ll figure out a plan. It’s close to midnight, and she’s going to be hard to handle. If you have to, arrest her for resisting. Make her wear a helmet and vest. God damnit! His own daughter?

[I picked up my things and followed the officer out.] I’m going to shower and dress. Be quick. Go undercover.

[I turned to go to the showers, my mind going a mile an hour. How would I justify protecting her if she won’t help me? And if she won’t turn States evidence, I’d have to let her go. No witness protection. This just kept getting worse.]

Coletta: {I knew myself well enough to know that I wasn't going to sleep tonight. Spent the first few hours after I'd returned home pacing. Wondering. Worrying. Should I call my father? Would he call me? Not hearing from him could be good or bad. Would he call me if he suspected anything? Would he not because he'd already made a decision? Mid afternoon, I called my mother in Colorado, knowing she would just be getting her day started. Trying to pretend everything was okay, was extremely hard, but I made it through twenty minutes of hearing about her shop and how things were going then promised to get out there for a visit soon. I barely choked back a sob as we said our goodbyes. She had no idea that it might be our last. I tried to think of what I'd want to do if I knew I was going to die today...but after five minutes I was so depressed, I wanted to do the job for my father. That's show him, right? No. He wouldn't care. All of my internal torture was speculation of course. I had no idea what he knew or didn't, but the unknown was part of what was driving me insane. So I turned to cleaning my penthouse apartment from top to bottom. It didn't matter that the cleaning lady had been there two days ago. Occupying my hands with menial tasks occupied my mind. Until every inch of the place was sickeningly spotless. Only my stomach growling close to nine o’clock gave me something else to do. Opening a bottle of wine, I went through the fridge and decided on leftovers. Some last meal, but hey, tacos. You would think I'd have little appetite, but I was the opposite. I stress ate like a champ. Didn't stop until I was well and truly stuffed, because who fucking cared about calories when you were a dead woman walking. I hoped my casket was heavier for whatever assholes my father assigned to carry it. That thought told me just how drunk I was getting as I poured the rest of the second bottle into my goblet. Taking the glass, I stumbled to the sette facing the windows that overlooked the city. God, I loved this view this city. I don't know how long I sat there and stared, the buzz of the wine numbing my mind nicely. I was very nearly passed out when the pounding on my door made me jump. Momentarily confused as I thought the pounding was in my head, then felt it in my chest as it matched the staccato on my door, I'd never been more relieved to hear, “Police. Open up.”}

Oliver: [I sat on the couch in my home, a scotch in one hand, comfortable in sleep pants and a cotton t-shirt. The officers had informed me that Coletta had come willingly, even...compliantly, given she was quite intoxicated at the time. I wasn’t going to judge because as soon as I made sure she was set here, for the night, I was going to drink this bottle till it was gone.

When the bell rang, I stood, settling my tumbler down, and walked to the door, finding the two officers on either side of her, and I nodded, stepping aside and letting them in] Good evening, Miss Martinelli. Welcome to my home. [I pointed them to the living room, having them sit her on the couch while I went to the fridge and retrieved a bottle of water and brought it back to her, setting it on the coffee table in from of her.] I’m sure, at some level, you understand why you’re here. But just incase, I’ll tell you. We received intel from several reliable CIs that your father had put out a contract on you tonight. It seems it’s irrelevant that you’re his daughter.

[I sat down across from her, picking up my brandy and sitting back] We have officers outside my home tonight, enough to protect both of us, given he also put out a contract on me. So you see, Miss Martinelli, we’re in the same situation. It seems he’s trying to control the narrative. But you see, I’m not a man who likes to be controlled.

[I gritted my teeth and stared out the window, quite irritated to see tactical men in my front lawn] Nevertheless, there’s a room ready for you, and you’ll stay here tonight, and in the morning, we’ll make more concrete plans.

[I took another sip of brandy, sighing, no ability to concentrate on anything else but the fact that I was going to bury the Martinelli name so far under that no one would even remember them, only that the city was safer and stronger now than before. That would be his punishment, to be forgotten. Forever to rot behind bars until he died. I didn’t even realize I’d drained the glass, so I stood again, going to fill another] I have wine, if you’d like, and it’s not my place to police you. So if you’d like another glass to forget this shitty situation for a bit, tell me now and I’ll bring it to you while I can walk.

Coletta: {Because I was drunk, the humiliation of being carted from my penthouse and paraded through the lobby, barely registered. I nodded off almost as soon as I was put in the back of the police car, so far from caring about anything it was almost scary. Only when I felt the car stop, did I look around, bleary eyed, then really confused. Instead of parked in the grimey lot of the police station we were in front of a three story brownstone all the way out in the part of the city that actual had front yards. Well, small patches of grass, by most lawn standards, but in NYC, these places meant money. My heart immediately sped as my mind ran through any number of scenarios. We're these dirty cops, paid off by my father? Was this the home of one of his “associates”? Slack jawed, I had no choice but to find out as the officer hauled me from the back side and I stumbled up the walk beside him. When the door open to show Mr. All-American District Attorney, my jaw may have actually hit the floor. It was completely unfair that he looked that good this late in a t-shirt and sleep pants while I looked like a bum off the streets in my hoodie and sweatpants. How drunk was I? Was hallucination drunk even a thing? Snorting at my own thought, I moved with the officer inside, sat where he put me. Wasn't I a good little criminal? Before I could open my mouth and let my drunken sass get me in even more trouble, of course, the lawyer took the floor. Hands between my knees in my sweats I never left the house in, shoulders slumped, I listened as he confirmed my greatest fear. I wasn't really surprised, and yet...blinking rapidly, there was no staving off the tears that fell. Stupid wine. To hear confirmed what had been my deepest darkest fear for as long as I could remember, if there was ever a choice which would he make, broke my heart in two. The last of the faith, the hope that I had locked away in a tiny box in my heart slipped away. He didn't care at all. I was his only child. Well, legitimate child from his first marriage, and he was ready to toss me away to save his own ass. Fuck him. Head ducked so that a curtain of hair half hid my face, I angrily swiped at my tears. I could only nod. My voice, my words, well and truly stolen from me. Taking the bottle of water, I chugged most of it. When he offered me another drink and laid out the parameters of my stay here, I lifted my heavy head. A drunken coma was exactly what I needed right now. I knew I wouldn't be lucky enough to give myself alcohol poisoning.} Do you have anything stronger?

Oliver: [My head was pounding, and the thick film on my tongue made me gag eve more than the nausea that was rolling around in my stomach. The last thing I remembered was opening a new bottle of scotch...what time was it? I reached over to my side-table, to the right, to pick up my cell phone, but my hand didn’t fall on a cell phone, or a side table, but a breast, if I had to guess.

I did not.

I slowly pulled my hand back, not wanting to wake her, and without opening my eyes I rolled to my left toward the side of the bed. I sat up slowly, everything still spinning, and cracked my eyes open as I looked down, and nothing. I wasn’t wearing any fucking underwear.

Well, that was just fucking great.

I smashed the heels of my hands into my eyes and counted to ten. It was a slow count, more to calm myself down than to change the situation.

When it was over, I looked up, stood, and walked into the bathroom. I looked back, trying to find my clothes, but they weren’t there. I shut the door, looked at myself in the mirror, and groaned. Ragged, still tired. Hungover.

I hadn’t drank like this since college. Not law school, but college, when I was stupid and young. Except I wasn’t so young anymore, but at times I felt quite stupid.

I’d rolled the dice with Coletta, her father, and I’d lost. Unless I closed this case, nailed Martinelli, this was always going to be hanging over my head.

I heard a ringing phone, and I looked around, not seeing it on the counter, I opened the bathroom door and scanned the room, seeing the light flash under the bed. I crawled quietly to get it, waiting till I was back in the bathroom with the door closed to answer low.] Hello? [Shit, my voice sounded rougher than I looked. “Oli. Man. What’s going on?” Concern colored Coen’s voice, the only ADA that even remotely cared for me.

Just the noise of his voice made my head throb again.]

Can’t talk. Explain later.

[I heard a chuckled, and I rolled my eyes. “Are you...hung over?”] Go away. [It took me a few more moments of hearing him begin to ramble to realize I could hang up. So I did. I looked around on the counter for anything of mine, but this wasn’t my bathroom. It was the guest bathroom. Her room. Maybe I could get to my room without her…

I opened the door, and quickly realized that was going to be impossible. All I could do was stand there.] Morning.

Coletta: {Oooouuuccchhhh....I don't know what woke me up, but my head was pounding. Shit, had I been shot? Where was I? Fuck. My brain came online in a cloud of confusing as I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to thing through the pain. Oh my god...I was drunk when I'd arrived at the DA’s house, and it had only gotten worse from there. I don't think I'd ever been that drunk in my life. Then my brain just stopped. I don't remember going to bed at all. So this is what a black out felt like. It sucked. Groaning as I tried to stretch, which was a mistake as it awakened aches all over my body, my eyes popped open when I felt the slide of sheets against bare legs. That wasn't right. I'd had on sweats and a hoodie last. Night. Now my pulse was pounding along with the pain in my brain as I slid my hand across my belly. I was naked as the day I was born. Had I gotten too hot and taken my clothes off in my drunken stupor? Sleeping naked in a stranger's home was not me. Noise from what I could only assume was a bathroom drew my attention, brows furrowed as I headed the muffled gravelly voice of a man. It had to be my host. What, did the bathroom connect the bedrooms? Odd. What the hell. First thing first, I needed clothes. Swinging my legs over the side of the bed, I sat up...and immediately regretted it. The competition between the spinning of my head and stomach kicked into high gear just as the bathroom door opened and Oliver Davidson stepped out in all of his well toned and tanned naked glory. The worst part was the realization that this wasn't the first time I'd seen him naked. Aaaannndddd that was that. A clumsy lung toward the bathroom door he'd just exited, I collapsed in an unceremonious heap, my head just made it over the toilet as my stomach rebelled, and emptied the contents of the gallons of alcohol I must have imbibed last night.}

Oliver: Oh, come on! Dramatic much? It’s not like I’m repulsive or anything. [Just the sound of her heaving made me dry heave, and I went to sit on the bed, not even bothering to cover up, because at this moment I couldn’t give a shit less. I’d just slept with my witness. I’d made so many ethics violations it was unreal. Hell, if this got out, I’d lose my job. I might get disbarred. No one in the city would ever trust me again, and I’d still likely get killed.

Fuck. This.]

Look, [I tried to sound professional, but my professional was all gone right now, and my head was spinning as well.] I don’t know know what happened last night. But whatever it was, let’s keep it between ourselves? I mean, it’s obvious you don’t care about your image with the way you were going to so easily give in and let the whole world think you’d sexually harassed a man, but I -do- care about mine. Furthermore, if you said we slept together, I could deny it and it would be my word against yours, and who are they going to believe? The daughter of an organized crime boss or the city’s District Attorney? That’s obvious. [She heaved again, and I was tempted to close the door, but I couldn’t have a conversation like this without being able to see the person I was talking to, even if they were blowing chunks.] Also, unless you remember specific details, it’s ambiguous at best if we even did have sexual intercourse, and if we did, where’s the proof? Once we shower and dress, DNA will be washed off. The sheets have our DNA, but unless there’s fluids, you can’t prove anything. Even -with- fluids it might have been a drunken jerk off. [I stopped myself, thankfully, and pushed the heel of my hand into my temple.] Bottom line, this, whatever it is, didn’t happen.

Coletta: {Holy. Shit. I'd slept with the world's biggest asshole. Who knew? So far my sexual history consisted of a fuckboy and an self centered narcissistic asshole. Well, the first one was that too, so at least I had a type. My anger had my headache momentarily taking a back seat as everything he spouted had a fire forming in my belly. He ran through his defense out loud, and whether he realized it or not, it doubled as his admission to something wrong. Very wrong. I couldn't even speak to defend myself between wretches and this jerk off was threatening me?! The only thing I could do was reach behind me, middle finger extended until I could breathe again. Tears leaked down my cheeks from the force of my heaves and I was sure my eye liner was smeared to hell with it. Once my stomach was well and truly empty and I'd sucked in a couple of deep breath, I turned my head, aiming a death glare at the golden boy sitting on the bed. Voice barely above a croak, I let it all out.} And what if I ran off to the hospital and demanded a rape kit, right now? I know exactly what I look like, and if you don't think that I could whip up a bout of hysterics, you've never met a drama queen. So listen here, All American, you don't get to threaten me any more than you already have. It's your fault I'm here in the first place. And if you don't think I'd air everything, and I mean everything on the stand for god and all the city to hear, you've never met a girl who literally has nothing left to lose. Ruining your career would be the icing on the cake. So keep telling me what did and didn't happen. Haven't you ever listened to Joe Biden? If she's drunk, she can't consent, and I may be an MBA, but I know that New York City has some of the strictest rape laws on the books. How sensational would it be for the top law enforcement official to go down on laws he helped create? {Sucking in more deep breaths to stave off the next wave of nausea, my eyes narrowed to slits.} I know exactly what matters most to you, Oliver. So if you don't want to be reduced to nothing more than a glorified frat boy, you better get the fuck out of my face for a long while. I may be stuck with you temporarily, but I will not be ordered around like some stupid whore. If you haven't figured it out yet, let me clue you in...you have no idea who you're fucking with.

[mistralrunner]

Running Reads Oathbringer: Interludes and Part III.I

Time to jump back into liveblogging!

Spoilers for pages 555-605 below!

You know as nervous as I've been not knowing what Taravangian is up to, I really don't feel like going back to his twisted pov right now

At least with Venli there's hope of possiblyspren!Eshonai

Also where are Szeth and Nightblood?

It's nearly halfway through the book why can't they get pov

Kaza gets visions? I am concerned

What are they storming doing. No pun intended

Twisted face? Soulcaster?

We're finally going to learn more about Aimia yes!!!

There's yet another storm though beyond Everstorm and Highstorm?

"Closer and closer to oblivion" yeah friendly reminder that soulcaster fabrials are concerning and makes me wonder if Regrowth fabrials would also have dark side effects

Slowly becoming smoke? That's almost even more chilling than the stonelike thing mentioned before

You can soulcast pieces of an object when more proficient? Huh. Although casting air to anything is technically always a piece of an object so I guess those ones are automatically proficient?

Soulcasters start being able to see into Shadesmar?

So they see nothing beforehand?

Hmmm...being drawn into another world, another will reinforcing her own, something commanding and powerful attracted by her request for aid, so powerful spren are involved in soulcasters?

I wonder why there’s limited modes to a soulcaster, is it related to the spren involved?

Tricky to try to make generalizations from this cause it’s uncertain how ordinary Kaza is for a Soulcaster

Ooh soulcasters came from Akinah

Of course they did

Hey a shadow stretching in the wrong direction like Jasnah's from the WoR prologue!

The Shadesmar sun is where dying souls stretch toward maybe?

Well all the sailors not breathing is concerning

Is that odd cremling a larkin?

So the royal family keeps a soulcaster/tool weapon and she was forced to become slave to it and sacrifice her life in a way yikes

I did not see that coming with the cook well played ensuring everyone ate

Tattooed face I should have known like Axies

"There are those who could pull secrets from your soul, and the cost would be the end of worlds."

I am concerned

And disappointed we didn't really learn much about Aimia apart from Soulcaster connection

Oh no Taravangian's smart today I'm scared this is going to be disturbing

Nope Malata is Diagram I'm sad

I was rooting for you

Kind of praying for double agent but not counting on it

I want to like the Dustbringers just cause they're the maligned group but if they follow the Diagram and division alas

I forgot that there are no record/cd players so when Taravangian asks for music he actually gets a live children's choir singing outside his room while he plans atrocities

And here we go with the eugenics thinking preventing "stupid" people from reading although frankly that's foolish cause reading can improve one’s mind but I guess if your goal is a bunch of elites and a mindless serving class

Seriously the singing children is this eerie juxtaposition

Pfft the “Dalinar paradigm” is such an amusing name

What effect is Renarin having (although I'm proud he is a wild element the Diagram can't predict)

I'm concerned about the contingency plan

...

Wtf

Those poor children

"The monster you sometimes become"? Adrotagia he is generally already acting monstrous this is merely a step further

I guess it's comforting that at least the Diagram will resist him going too far for a certain definition of too far

Well the Listeners used the gemhearts to help grow food right? I think?

It is interesting that plants can photosynthesize stormlight, or something like it

Sad backstory still murder Taravangian

"Now he'd save the world. Well, the part of the world that mattered."

Yeah, not good

Hey Diagram do you think you should really be following the plans and agenda of a guy who is in favor of wantonly killing kids and eugenics? Like sure he predicted the future but if the big plan was by a guy even more morally terrifying than this one don't you think that might be a problem

Yeah I figured that was the plan, let Dalinar do the work of arranging the coalition then usurp him

Nooo why is the Dustbringer spren being sent for evil spying I want the Dustbringer to be a good guy

So the endgame is negotiate with Odium for a piece of the world at the cost of the rest I'm sure that's not going to backfire horribly

"Only one man would be strong enough to make that sacrifice"

Again with the "Some of you may die, but it is a sacrifice I am willing to make" mentality

So Voidbringers do have gemhearts?

Also Venli, I'm suspecting trap. Just saying. You were used. You have a horribly inflated sense of self importance.

Eshonai help us here

"You must embrace it...you have to want it." Nope definitely not a trap nope totally innocent

The Everstorm is just ash and thunder without rain?

Stormfather font?

She's still bonded to a Voidspren unfortunately

Ah yes they've been possessed and a couple are the crazed ghosts lovely

"This corpse"? Oh ouch

So the Voidbringers essentially have an eternal ruling class minus some shifts due to rulers going insane

"See passion and forgive this child" well seems they've bought into the Odium relabeled as passion thing

You know I keep thinking about beauty products labeled passion and it's really amusing

Just imagine the Voidbringers spritzing gentle perfume into the air

"It's Passion...by Odium"

“A new fragrance suffused with the sweet Thrill of vengeance”

Ah Venli you finally realize your error

Too late

Ah confirmation the possession isn't reversible, stapling souls to new corpses yikes

The Cosmere has quite of bit of body horror and stapling investiture to corpses doesn't it

Oh dear what is Odium planning for Venli

Assuming it is Odium but given Odium seems to like using a warm, ancient, paternal voice

As romantic as the resurrected with a life partner for thousands of years in an endless battle you hope to win is, you’re doing so by destroying others including ironically another romantic couple

Ugh Venli that is not a good thought process

Okay Venli is protecting the hopefully Eshonai spren there's hope

but really Venli you are a horrible person

Part III!

What shall the epigraphs be this time

Hurrah we're back to Kaladin pov although I'll miss the Bridge Four povs

Part one feels like ages ago

Oh yay it's the musical gem library!

So Stonewards are self sacrificing?

Yeah the Stormfather whimpering is really disconcerting

Having the example of Ruin makes me wonder exactly how omniscient Odium is 

Ooo the potential for city hopping without going through Urithiru

Dalinar: Oh by the way Kaladin you're a landowner.

Deathbend river though doesn’t seem like the best labeled real estate

Kaladin's busy training the Windrunners he really doesn't need the responsibility of landlord as well

So Dalinar has a connection to each of the three Rosharan Shards. Odium from his dependence on the Thrill, Cultivation through his deal with the Nightwatcher, and Honor through bonding the Stormfather. Feel like that is going to be significant.

Yeah the downside of the Alethi being in the Shattered Plains or Urithiru-they were storming easy to conquer for a martial nation. Admittedly the Kholinar riots didn't help.

I love Thaylen city already this is my aesthetic...except it's horrifically in ruins

I'm sad about this city

Aww these gems are records of people's lives, records of people being people that's really heartwarming

Huh wonder why this chapter is called Bondsmith

I want to go on this tour

"It was a pity to see several statues with the faces broken off"

Will we ever solve the mystery of miss art defacer from that one interlude who’s probably Khriss

Heh Dalinar wants to go on the swords tour instead but I feel those would be well guarded from the Blackthorn especially

Huh uncertain Everstorm effects definitely would mess with planning and precautionary measures but I wonder if there's something more cunning going on with targeting

Also a storm of burning embers ouch

How is Shinovar doing I feel like the Everstorm really should be a problem for them

Ugh Taravangian is here too bleh

I love Queen Fen

Dalinar there are other options than punching people

Dalinar: I have a plan!

Navani: Does it involve punching people?

Dalinar: I have no plan.

Ironic that Taln's temple has the cave in

Or intentional huh

Dalinar I don't think this is how diplomacy works

Well that is extra

Especially the bit with shoving in the sword further

That was pretty cool but yeah making people fear you as some sort of quasi immortal being with eldritch magic not great

The spren of the temple is in pain?

Ohhhh

We're going to see full Bondsmith abilities

Radiance used for civilization and healing, not terror

Repairing buildings damaged by war and storm that is one useful skill I love this

Wonder if any other orders can do that cause that’s really helpful and Bondsmiths are so few

Yes thanks for remembering you have a magical healer

"My son does the more important work" yeah Renarin appreciation!

But the magically rebuilding a city including symbolic parts

Aaaaa

"Once the soul grows accustomed to the wound, it's much harder to fix" I kind of knew that but only thought of it in the extreme identity case, and didn’t consider recently dealt wounds might be easier to heal than several day old wounds cause you’d think the healing process would have started and it would take less energy to finish

Huh Dalinar almost got a communication Connection?

Yeah person talking into the recording gem I'm worried about Truthwatchers too

Who is on the infiltration team?

Ah Skar and Drehy for the Windrunners I'm so proud of Skar

I'm concerned that they can't wear Plate even if it wouldn't be great for subterfuge

Summonable Plate will be lovely when we get it

Who is the maidservant? Ishnah?

Kaladin, Shallan smiles because of unhealthy coping mechanisms

Syl stop it not a healthy match

You don't need romance to be happy Syl

I am really concerned about the wrongness in Kholinar

Of course it's right by the Oathgate

[junker-town]

How the decision to cancel a football game due to a hurricane actually happens

Florida athletic director Scott Stricklin spoke to SB Nation about the moving parts, before the Gators canceled their 2017 home opener.

The Florida Gators will not open their 2017 home slate on Sept. 9. With Hurricane Irma bearing down on the state, Florida initially moved the game to noon, then announced Thursday evening that it would be canceled without a rescheduled date. It is, all things considered, the best decision the school could make. Florida State, Miami, UCF, and USF also canceled weekend games.

Irma could be the first hurricane anywhere close to this magnitude to hit the state head-on since 2005 and the second in three weeks to change the college football calendar, after Hurricane Harvey in Texas.

Games are not cancelled, postponed, or moved in a vacuum, though. Florida athletic director Scott Stricklin detailed to SB Nation the decision-makers and stakeholders who needed to be considered.

The big decision: Keep the game in Gainesville at the original time? Move it earlier in the day? Move it to another site? Or nix it entirely?

Friday night in Gainesville wouldn’t work, because the school wanted to free up as many hotels as possible. The team even gave up the hotel it usually stays in for home games.

Florida never got far enough down the road to make calls to cities like Jacksonville or Atlanta about playing there. Jacksonville wasn’t studied for too long because it is also in the path of the storm.

But there is one call Florida did make, in the name of due diligence.

“I actually called Jay Jacobs at Auburn, the AD at Auburn — they’re at Clemson this weekend — just to say, ‘Would your stadium be available?’ and he was open to it,” Stricklin said. “He was, ‘Absolutely, let me know how we could help,’ and we told him just to sit tight and don’t contact anybody. And in our internal talks, we decided that didn’t make any sense. We were just poking around at all the options, to make sure you flesh everything out.”

Auburn’s only about a five-hour drive from Gainesville.

There’s precedent for a move like that. LSU had its home opener moved from Houston to New Orleans in about six days’ time due to Harvey. FIU and Georgia Southern moved their Week 2 games to Birmingham, Alabama.

In the wake of flooding in South Carolina, LSU hosted the Gamecocks in Baton Rouge in 2015. The game was supposed to be in Columbia.

And yes, the Tigers hosted the Gators last year, despite a war of words that reverberates throughout the conference. Stricklin had been announced as Florida’s incoming AD at the time, but wasn’t on the job amid negotiations between Florida, LSU, the SEC, and both teams’ non conference opponents. But as an outside observer at the time (on his way out at Mississippi State), he could notice the differences.

“There are some similarities, as far as a lot of the people on campus went through that last year, so they were familiar with the questions we had to ask,” Stricklin said. “I think it’s a really significant difference, being a non-conference game vs. an SEC game. SEC game, the league office is gonna be much more involved because obviously they have two members with a stake in the game.”

When the league was involved with the situation last fall, it became an absolute mess. At the time, SB Nation reported a failure in management at the conference level allowed Florida and LSU to bicker publicly.

This time, the SEC was integral in dealing with ESPN.

When the game was moved to noon on Saturday, the SEC Network had six games, filling every Saturday time slot on its two channels (the network has an alternate channel on most cable systems, specifically for live events).

“No. 1, being a non-conference game probably is not as heightened a concern for our TV partners as it normally would be, if it were an SEC game,” Stricklin said in a press conference after the decision was made. “Basically, the conference office handled all those conversations on our behalf.”

Florida explored asking the conference if either Kentucky or Ole Miss could flop time slots, but both schools were unable to accommodate on short notice, per Stricklin. Due to that, the game wasn’t going to be broadcast on TV, instead streamed on WatchESPN.

According to the the school, it would have been the first Gators game not broadcast on either cable or pay per view since 1996. Florida wouldn’t have been sacrificing any revenue without the game on TV, per Stricklin.

The whole process of canceling the game started five days before toe met leather in The Swamp.

That’s when Stricklin and his staff began in earnest to plan for contingencies, should the storm hit. They’d been keeping an eye on what was forming in the Atlantic, but Labor Day meetings confirmed this storm was a threat to run right up the spine of the state.

“We had meetings [Tuesday] with the city manager and some other people with the city,” Stricklin said. “People from the local fire department, the local fire chief were involved in that. There are like 17 government agencies working that are involved in gamedays here. Now we didn’t have all 17 at the table specifically on this, but we had a lot of them.”

There are university people inside and outside the athletic department who need to know what’s going on. Coach Jim McElwain, the entire football apparatus, people like the president of the university, campus police, the university operations staff, and the ticket office need to know.

Folks at the SEC, running all the way up the chain to commissioner Greg Sankey, must be at least privy to the discussions.

By Wednesday, Florida had moved its game from 7:30 pm to noon, doing so just hours after Florida State made the same decision. Stricklin said there were conversations with both FSU AD Stan Wilcox and UCF AD Danny White — two of the three other schools in the state scheduled to host games that weekend — about upcoming moves.

“I think we all were acting independently, but it was good to kinda know what others were doing and planning to announce,” Stricklin said. “You wanna know what people in the same situation are thinking so you’re not missing something.”

There is also the matter of Florida’s opponent, Northern Colorado.

The Bears are slated to make $625,000 from the guarantee in the contract for the game with Florida, a record for UNC. Original travel plans had Northern Colorado flying into Tampa commercially and bussing up. By Wednesday, the Gators had secured charter travel for UNC to come into Gainesville Friday and leave Saturday. That alleviated both costs and travel headaches for the Bears, and UNC would have missed the effects of the storm in North Central Florida by nearly a whole day.

There are clauses in game contracts that can be invoked if weather impacts games. They’re referred to as “Force Majeure” or “Act of God clauses.”

Here’s one from Florida’s 2015 game with ECU.

Game cancelation is something Florida’s familiar with. In fact, Northern Colorado being the affected opponent here is the direct result of another time Mother Nature seriously impacted a Gator game.

In 2014, on an evening that started without a hint of bad weather in the sky, lightning forced a cancelation against Idaho. After a deluge that left the field flooded, the teams ran one play before both were again pulled off the field.

Check out tonight's play of the game: Valdez #Showers 64-yd kickoff return. Ok, it was the only play of the game, but it was a great one!

A post shared by Florida Gators Football (@gatorsfb) on Aug 30, 2014 at 9:03pm PDT

The game was declared a no contest and rescheduled for 2017. But then Idaho got a better payday from Mizzou, leaving the Gators with a hole in their 2017 schedule until September 2016. That’s when they replaced the Vandals with Northern Colorado, only to have weather again cancel proceedings.

Florida has loss-of-revenue insurance that kicks in to alleviate some of the costs, but UF did pay out the full amount of the guarantee to Idaho. The Gators will likely do the same with Northern Colorado, but are currently working through details.

In the end, canceling the game accomplished the primary goal.

That was: playing the game if at all possible, but preserving the safety of everyone involved.

Just because you can do something, doesn’t mean you should. A relatively meaningless non-conference game that would have further clogged up roads as people tried to evacuate didn’t need to be played, and so it was scrapped.