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yellowocaballero · 6 months ago

Note

it's called stress writing?

Ah. You know how sometimes you're really stressed and writing stupid shit helps relax you and you've had an idea in your mind for forever? But nobody will ever see this story because it's so cringe?

FE3H OC kids time traveling. In my defense, the urge to cross over your own AUs with canon is famously irrepressible. Or I haven't been able to repress it, which might as well be the same thing.

Here's a bit of it.

“Do you think they can smell fear?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. They can only sense it.”

Luca rubbed his staff, dragging a finger over the smooth curves. “Subconscious perceptions of stimuli such as smells can often feel like extrasensory perception…”

“Do you use words I don’t know on purpose?”

“It calms me down.”

“Extrasensory perception?” Mother asked. “What’s that?”

“Worry about it in twenty years.”

Sara resisted the urge to pet Mother’s head or something. There was no need. She barely looked any younger than Sara’s actual mother. Uncle Felix once estimated that she stopped aging in her mid-to-late twenties. Sara had corrected him - she looked like she stopped aging. Royal anti-aging cream was effective, but it didn’t work miracles. Uncle Felix had looked a little pained.

“I studied abroad in Almyra for a year,” Luca said apologetically. Wow? Did he? Sara had only heard about it fifty times. “Look, Mother. Is this really - I’m sorry, do you mind if I call you that?”

Mother shrugged. Her expression didn’t change. She wasn’t famous for her expressions, but this was so, so, so much worse than usual. Normally you could catch her by the tone of her voice, but even her voice was empty. She was like a doll. “No. But you ought to call me Professor in public. Everybody else does.”

Just to be safe, Sara hazarded, “How do you…feel about all of this?”

Mother looked at her blankly. Blanker than usual. Much blanker.

“About two teenagers showing up in your dormitory saying that they’re your children from the future, and that now you have to hide them in your classroom until Sara figures out how to un-time travel us.”

“It’s a problem.”

“Mother, that’s not really what I asked…”

But Mother just stared at them. Goddess, it was so creepy. “What do you want me to say?”

There was no time. Or far too much of it, or far too little. The first Blue Lion filtered in, and class had begun. Or, as Luca muttered under his breath - ‘showtime’.

The Officer’s Academy looked mostly the same. It was missing an entire classroom, but Sara hadn’t gotten a good enough look to see if it was missing anything else. Sara knew for a fact that the first floor dormitories were exactly the same - Felipe said his friends would moan about how old and crappy the ventilation system was. The elite kid dormitories were, obviously, shiny and new. Felipe had bitched about the inequality until Terry pointed out that he lived in the elite kid dorm. Derrick had mildly shared trivia on how it was disproportionately Kingdom nobility.

Sara hadn’t gotten the opportunity to see the rest of the monastery. Until today, Mother had only moved Sara and Luca around in the dead of night. She had smuggled them downwards in Abyss, driving Headmaster Yuri wild. The remarks flew in a bombardment of barbed arrows. Mother had serenely ignored him. Meanwhile, Sara and Luca were realizing that Headmaster Yuri actually wasn’t exaggerating about how bad Abyss used to be. She’d have to apologize later.

Laying low in Abyss fending off Uncle Balthus’ questions and requests for card games (Balthus and Constance had insisted on the aunt and uncle honorifics, Headmaster Yuri and Miss Hapi had forbidden it) wasn’t how she had imagined her first time travel experience. She had imagined a lot more monastery exploring. She knew that the entire monastery looked very different. Uncle Felix and Father always dragged their children around and loudly pointed out which parts were the same and which had been reconstructed. They had both marveled over the new pagan area of worship in the chapel. Headmaster Yuri had said that it was to make the international students feel welcome, but he had said it in kind of a ‘that’s my story and you better just nod along’ way.

Headmaster Yuri was like that. He had protected Sara and Luca, as he protected all strays. From discovery and Rhea, obviously, but from mostly one little thing that was only the most important thing in the world.

Sara and Luca hadn’t run into anybody they were certain Mother and Father had killed yet. Guesswork yielded to comfort, but reality was impenetrable.

Reality today, in this unreal time and place, was warm. There was a roaring fire, and light streamed in through the narrow windows. In the courtyard, teens laughed and yelled. Sara saw a girl running past the open doors, yelling and reaching out for a boy running in front of her. He was holding a red ribbon in the air and allowing it to fly in the wind like a flag, and he was almost breathless from exertion and laughter. Sara wondered idly if those two were married with five kids by now. She wondered if they were dead.

In a week, this classroom may be Sara’s. She had no idea where Headmaster Yuri would place her. Water Dragon, Fire Horse, Earth Ox, or Metal Tiger - it didn’t matter. It would be filled with a lot of talented and hard-working kids. She’ll never know who she was missing. If the best person in the world should have been born to parents cleaved in two, then she’ll never meet them.

That wasn’t the meaning of war. But it was only the meaning of the long, empty years that stretched on afterwards.

“Good morning, Petra.”

Aunt Petra - nope, she was a baby, just Petra - straightened. She was probably always the first person to arrive. Sara scrutinized her closely but subtly, and she knew Luca was doing the same.

“Good morning, Professor. Who is these?”

What was with that accent? It was worse than the Brigid exchange students, and Sara usually met those two weeks into their first Fargus experience. But Mother just nodded, as if the eloquent Aunt Petra’s broken words were normal. “New students.” Petra stared at Mother. “I didn’t steal them. I’ll explain later.”

Petra slowly sat down at the back of the room. She busied herself with her books, but her attention didn’t leave Sara and Luca. Luca clutched his staff to his chest. Sara automatically elbowed him. Royalty didn’t show fear.

Aunts - Annie and Mercie were the next to enter the room, clutching their books and giggling to each other. Annie looked fucking Luca’s age. Mercie was so soft looking. Sara wanted to pinch her cheeks. Even worse -

“Holy shit,” Luca whispered under his breath, “Terry and - her are identical…”

“Untrue,” Sara whispered, “that little face can’t contain evil.”

“What was that?” Mother said.

“Nothing!”

Annie and Mercie also stopped and stared. Sara was sensing a theme.

Their faces were blank for a second. Sara didn’t recognize the expression at all. Derrick might. But then they both smiled, exactly in sync and exactly the same smile.

“Professor!” Annie cried. “Who’s this?”

“New students,” Professor said. “I’ll explain once everyone is here.”

Mercie smiled, giving Sara and Luca a shy wave. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Mercedes.”

“Oh, duh! Forgot to introduce myself!” Annie bounded up to Sara, who fought the urge to lean back. She curtseyed to Sara, very improperly - not nearly low enough - and Sara automatically curtseyed back. “I’m Annette! Where did the Professor find you?”

“I didn’t steal them,” Mother said blankly.

“Of course you didn’t,” Annie said, obviously placating Mother. Mercie hummed in agreement.

“Sit down, please.”

They sat down at a table in the front next to each other. They didn’t look at Sara and Luca. Yet, somehow, their eyes didn’t leave them.

Sara and Luca were extremely used to being stared at. Even the polite ‘all of my attention is on you but I’m a polite subject who doesn’t stare’. It shouldn’t have phased her. Yet…somehow…

Luca clutched his staff to his chest. Relatable. Sara elbowed him again anyway.

Captain - Ingrid and Ashe arrived next, heads ducked together and giggling. Did they have a buddy system or something?! Mother said they should be arriving straight from breakfast - maybe they just ate in twos?

It was reassuring to see that they were still completely gross, and had been gross since the beginning of time. Even if Ashe’s haircut was…it was awful. How often did he wash that uniform? It wasn’t enough…and even Sara could see that he was wearing it out of regulations…wow. He was kind of embarrassing. Ingrid was clearly a beautiful girl, where the hell did she - oh. Her hair was full of hay and her boots were half mud. There you go.

They also stopped and stared. Sara had always assumed it was the two decades of familiarity that made them all act exactly the same. Were they just…naturally like that…?

“They’re new students. I will explain when everybody is here. I did not steal them.”

They hustled into their seats. Ashe was the only one who openly gawked at them. Petra lightly cleared her throat, and Ashe hurriedly began doodling on his page.

It was just in time - loud voices filtered in, and Sara knew who was approaching before they came. Uncle Sylvain was a loud talker who never shut up, and judging by Uncle Felix’s matching passion they were talking about swordplay. Sure enough, when they entered they weren’t even looking at the front. Goddess, Felix looked dorky.

Sara didn’t know whether or not to be thankful that almost none of her cousins looked like their parents as a kid. When they did, it was downright uncanny - Ashe was identical to Sigurd, except if Sigurd was some pathetic peasant child who didn’t take care of himself at all. None of these people groomed themselves like proper noble kids.

“They’ll always be inferior weapons,” Felix was heatedly saying. He sounded so squeaky and angry about it. “And an inferior weapon is always the sign of an inferior wielder. Any noble brat with a sparkly sword is dangerous only to his own left hand.”

“Your points are solid,” Sylvain said, tossing his bag on the desk, “but consider this - guys with sparkly swords get more ladies.”

“Who cares, you absolute -”

“Absolute what? Charmer? Handsome dish?”

Felix turned a little red, dropping his bag on a table forcefully. Luca obviously resisted the urge to make a face. Ugh. They were flirting again. “I was not about to say that.”

“You were thinking -”

“At least I think at all - hey, who the hell is that?”

As if Felix’s words had given them permission, every eye on the place snapped to Sara and Luca.

It wasn’t just the stares. It wasn’t even the fact that they were in sync. It was just something about the way they looked at them. It was…Sara couldn’t even put words to it. She felt like she was alone in a cave of bats, and she had just looked upwards to see their glowing eyes peering down at her. If bats were carnivorous.

Patiently, Mother said, “They’re new students. I didn’t steal them. I’ll explain when everybody arrives.”

Sylvain whistled, rubbing his chin. He was looking at Sara. He was looking at Sara in ways that one should not look at a princess. “Why, hello. Where’d a dish like you come from?”

“Never speak to me again,” Sara said.

“Whoah, touchy!” Sylvain sat down, easy grin unaffected. “I can’t even ask your house? No commoner girl has that beautiful porcelain doll look.”

“And let me guess,” Ingrid said, absolutely withering, “you know every noble girl in the Kingdom?”

“That’s just good sense,” Sylvain said cheerfully.

It was strange. That was good sense. It was good sense to know the faces of every noble child in the Kingdom, and it was better sense to clock her as a noble from a look. Secret noble children usually had an extremely messy history - sometimes dangerously messy. But Sylvain had dressed up the important question like he was hitting on her. Why the hell would he bother doing that?

Felix pointed at Sara and Luca, absolutely incensed. “Since when do you drag outsiders into our classroom? You couldn’t even warn us?”

Annie coughed something that sounded a little like ‘plant’. What kind of plant?

“At least we knew she existed.” Felix turned back to Sara and Luca. His eyes fixed on Luca’s staff - on the weapon. “Is this really the time to introduce unknown variables, Professor?”

“Every battlefield will produce unknown variables,” Mother said serenely. Completely ignoring how Felix kind of sounded like they were plotting a murder. Or fraud. ��We must learn how to adapt. Please adapt by taking your seat.”

“But Professor -”

Mother stared at him. Felix hurriedly sat down.

Satisfied, Mother stood up and looked around. “Have any of you seen Dimitri and Dedue? It’s not like them to be late.”

“Let’s start without them!” Felix said brightly. Ingrid, Sylvain, and Annie gave him severe looks. “Ugh, shut the fuck up.”

“You are not allowed to say that when we didn’t even say anything.” Ingrid’s withering looks had different flavors for different audiences. Her ‘Felix is being inappropriate again’ look hadn’t changed in twenty years. “Isn’t now a good time to mind your manners?”

“Fine.” Felix rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair. “Sorry, Annette.”

“Aw, you’re forgiven!”

“Favoritism!” Sylvain cried. “How are you so nice to her and so mean to me? What does she have that I don’t?”

“A functioning brain, for one -”

Luca giggled. Everybody’s heads swiveled to him. He blushed, holding his staff up as if it could cover his face. Sara had to quickly hide her own smile.

“What’s so funny?” Mercie asked mildly. As usual, the mildness held far too much.

“You guys.” Luca lowered his staff, holding it close to his heart. “Um…you’re just funny, is all.”

A strange silence pulsed through the room. Sara risked a glance to her left. Mother was unreadable, as always, but several of the Blue Lions just looked a little thoughtful.

“It’s nice to find two people who Felix hasn’t driven away in the first two seconds,” Ingrid said wryly. “I’m happy to know that you already feel welcome in the Blue Lions.”

Somehow that sounded a little ominous. Maybe pointed - this bunch obviously weren’t very welcoming at all. No matter how they acted. The faux-friendly deceit was -

“Sorry! Sorry, I was caught up - it’s not Dedue’s fault, he was fetching me. I’m here!”

And Father skidded into the room, sweaty and panting for breath. He looked frazzled. His feelings were on his face - the stress and anxiety in his wide eyes, the cheeks red from exertion and embarrassment. He was still buttoning up his jacket.

Dedue walked in after him, far more regally than Father. Sara recognized Father by Dedue - without him, she wouldn’t have recognized him at all.

The princess face saved her, but Luca’s prince face needed work. He was actively gaping. Sara didn’t blame him - as Mother was reassuringly identical in appearance, Father’s extra eye sat awkwardly in his face. Mother was making far less facial expressions than usual and Father was making far more.

Sara’s sluggish heart was galloping in her chest. Luca’s overactive heart jumped into his throat.

Father stopped in the middle of the room, finally exhaling and fixing up the last buttons of his jacket. “My apologies. I lost track of time training again. I hope I haven’t held up the class too severely.”

His voice was fucking squeaky.

“You’re fine,” Mother said, absolutely detached from the situation. She truly gave the air of not giving a shit about anybody or anything. “Dimitri, meet our two visiting students.”

Father’s attention snapped to Sara and Luca. His eyes - plural! - flickered to Luca’s staff, then at Sara. Luca was dumbstruck. Sara was better at hiding it, but she was probably even worse off. At least Father was still a scary late teenager to Luca. Father was her age. And she still only came to his shoulder!

Manners maketh the lie. Sara curtseyed, and Luca hurriedly bowed beside her. She remembered just in time to bow foreign nobility-to-foreign royalty. “Greetings to His Holy Royal Highness Prince Dimitri.”

“Oh, there’s no need for formalities. I’m just Dimitri here.” As if Father had ever been just Dimitri. He bowed back as foreign royalty-to-foreign nobility. He didn’t see most of the class roll their eyes. “Welcome to Garreg Mach monastery. May I ask your names and country of origin?”

Fantastic question. As always, Mother swept in. “They’re Sara and Luca. We can’t disclose their country of origin right now.”

Ashe leaned next to Ingrid, probably under the impression he was whispering. “How did His Highness know they were foreign…?”

“Nobility stuff,” Ingrid said, bizarrely apologetic. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I try not to…”

As usual, Felix cut to the heart of the matter. “Why can’t you share where you’re from?”

“Can’t say,” Professor said stoically.

“Sorry, Professor, but I asked the newbies.”

It was stupid of her to assume that they wouldn’t prod at Mother’s story. In fairness, people didn’t tend to question Mother. Quickly, Sara said, “It really is confidential. It’s for our safety. Lady Rhea -” Headmaster Yuri, Lady Rhea was going along with whatever Mother wanted for unknown reasons. “ - has kindly offered us sanctuary. That’s all we can afford to say.”

“Sanctuary from what?” Felix demanded. Hadn’t he heard her? “From the Western Church? The dark mages?”

The class sharpened. They were practically at the edge of their seats, eyes following every move and tracking every micro-expression on their face. If Sara misstepped, she’d be eaten alive.

And Father was looking at them. He was looking at Luca - Luca, who had leaned a little closer to Sara. And, in a nauseatingly familiar move, he looked at Mother. ‘Here’s my recommendation - you decide whether or not to make the decision’.

It had always been a strange whiplash to Sara - how Father’s word was absolute in public, but how among the inner circle he always deferred to Mother. In some ways they had never truly left this classroom. The idea was strange.

“I trust them,” Mother said, and the room finally fell silent. Father looked a little impressed. “Is that enough for you all?”

The room nodded frantically. Father straightened and nodded too, far more regally. Dedue just looked at them, eyes unblinking.

Mother nodded, moving to the podium and taking a book from its shelf. “Then let’s start class. We left off at page twenty four. Does anybody want to give me the solution to its battlefield problem?”

Sara and Luca were about to shuffle off to the back, but Ingrid and Ashe swept their things into their arms hurriedly stood up, gesturing towards their seats.

“You sit at the front,” Ashe said cheerfully. “It’ll help you see the board better!”

“We insist!” Ingrid said. Smiling.

Sara and Luca sat down at the front of the room. They felt eyes boring into their backs for the next two hours. They had specifically shepherded Sara and Luca into a spot where everybody could keep an eye on them - how paranoid were these kids?

In many ways, these children were Sara’s adults. Paranoia and all. But those adults had lived through a war. Why were these kids acting as if they were at war?

At the fifteen minute break, Sara felt a very light poke at the back of her shoulder. She jumped in the air, quickly turning around. But she only saw Father, smiling awkwardly.

“I realized that I was far too impolite to you, and I never introduced myself. It’s Dimitri Bladdyd, and it’s a pleasure to meet you.” He nodded at Dedue. “This is my trusted vassal, Dedue Molinaro. He doesn’t speak much, but I assure you his Adrestrian is perfect.”

Sara wondered how many people assumed that Dedue was quiet because he didn’t speak Adrestrian. It must be so annoying and belittling. Dedue was quiet because he was always watching you.

Sara put a hand to her chest, bowing as a woman to a man. Luca did the same with a fist, as a young man to an older one. In Duscuran, Sara gave him the customary greeting to higher class Duscurans. Luca copied her. His accent was way worse. Father’s jaw nearly dropped, and even Dedue’s eyebrows raised.

“It’s a pleasure,” Dedue said firmly. “But there’s no need for that.”

“There’s always a need for respect,” Sara parroted. Luca nodded beside her. Uncle Dedue said that all of the time. Felipe had philosophical differences with the sentiment. Listening to them argue was like sitting in a courtroom.

“I couldn’t agree more!” Father said, oddly overjoyed. Sara realized too late that he had only bothered to introduce himself because he wanted to introduce Dedue. Father had once mentioned he used to do that. Sara couldn’t remember why. “Oh, I almost forgot. Give me a second.”

After some fumbling, he finally succeeded in holding out a stack of textbooks and a notebook towards her. There was even a pencil and eraser on top. He was smiling awkwardly. It wasn’t such a foreign expression. But the embarrassment and faint traces of hope - that was new.

“I noticed you didn’t have any materials,” Father said, strange and earnest. “I apologize. You’ll have to share - I don’t have any more copies.”

Sara dumbly took the materials, placing them on the desk between her and Luca. He had turned around too, gawking at Father with wide eyes. “Thank you, Your M - Highness.”

Father leaned forward in his seat, arms crossed on the table. His eyes were clear and bright. Dedue watched them silently. “I hope it helps. Our material is rather difficult. I can only imagine what a shock it is.”

“It’s difficult!” Luca cried out - just hair too loudly. “It’s tougher than what I learned in Almyra! How do you guys do this? I couldn’t understand half of it!”

Thank the Goddess, it wasn’t just her. She had felt like a disgrace for the entire class.

The royal family was the best. They had to be the best. Every time, in everything they did, they had to be the best. Sara had to win every swordsmanship tourney; Luca had to rank highest in the spellcrafting competitions. Luca was early into his tenure at the Fhirdiad school of magic, but he had to rank first in the grade.

They had to be the best because they had the best. Sara’s tutor was Uncle Felix’s tutor, who famously produced Uncle Felix; Luca apprenticed to the famously talented Lady Lysithea. Mother herself had tutored them in tactics. There was no reason to fail. But she did, again and again.

Because Terry outscored Luca half the time. Derrick outscored Sara every time. And that was just inside the castle. Sara wasn’t looking forward to her first traditional classroom experience at Garreg Mach - she had no idea how she was supposed to be better than everybody else too.

Their parents had eaten this incredibly dense and complex material for breakfast. Goddess, no wonder they thought their kids were lazy slackers.

But Father just nodded, nothing but supportive and friendly. “Professor Byleth’s curriculum can be…challenging. But trust me, she’s a wonderful teacher. If you need any help, she’ll be more than happy to give you individual tutoring.” He halted, shifting in his seat, before he finally said, “Or I could - I am more than capable of offering any tutoring you may need. It’s my duty as head of house. Not to say that it’s a burden! I am always happy to help.”

Sara maintained a regal and blank face, mentally cursing the Saras aged two to fifteen. She thought she worked hard in princess behavior, but she could see now that it wasn’t hard enough. She could not let her feelings show. Father could not know that she wanted to pinch his cheeks so badly. He could never discover how adorable he was. His bangs flopped over his cheek like a puppy’s ears flopping over their snout.

“We appreciate it greatly, Your Highness,” Sara replied smoothly. “The Professor said she wouldn’t give us any grades, but -”

“She doesn’t give anybody grades.”

“Huh?”

“She doesn’t - ah, she believes that grades get in the way of learning.” Father nodded sagely. Dedue’s eyebrow twitched. Sara knew that twitch. That was Dedue’s eye roll. “And tests. And assignments. It’s all a part of her accelerated curriculum.”

“Um,” Luca said, “are you sure? Because it…um, she just might not know what they are?”

Father laughed, light and easy. “That’s quite funny, Luca. Professor Byleth is a teacher! Of course she knows what tests are.”

Luca stared at Father. “Didn’t you have to tell her what homework was?”

Father’s smile was only pleasant. “And how did you know that?”

“She told us,” Sara said quickly. She elbowed Luca. “And goodness, Luca, will you speak correctly? Stop stammering and speak confidently.” Luca muttered something about hypocrites. “What was that?”

“That takes me back,” Father said, a little amused. “My parents used to say the same thing to me. I always hated it.”

“Oh?” Luca said. “You hated it? That’s funny. Look, Sara. He hates it.”

“Wow, you two really must be siblings!”

Then Ingrid was in front of them. Too late, Sara realized every Blue Lion was in front of them. No - they were circling them. Most of them looked pleasant and friendly, as if they had surrounded Sara and Luca to give them a big group hug. Don’t worry about our namesake. We’re your friends.

If it wasn’t for the look in their eyes, Sara might have believed them.

“My brothers and I always talk to each other like that,” Ingrid said, smile a lot faker than Father’s. Ingrid was a terrible liar. “But I’m the one always on their case about speaking correctly. So you’re noble siblings, right?”

“I’ve never seen a noble with green hair before,” Annie gushed. “Is it, like, dyed? It’s so cute!”

Sara self-consciously tugged at a lock of her thick and stylishly unruly hair. Big hair was in, but it took her servants thirty minutes every morning to wrangle the thing into an artfully styled mess. Without servants here, it was just a natural mess. “It’s natural…”

“I’m, like, so jealous of it. Red hair’s super strong in my family.” Only Lailah was black haired, so it was true. “Is it strong in yours? The only people I know with green hair are Lady Rhea, Seteth, and Flayn!”

“Have you met Flayn yet?” Mercie asked. “She’s the sweetest girl.”

Sara sweated a little. She’s known Auntie Flayn since she was zero. “I’ve met Flayn a few times, yeah.”

“Really? She’s never mentioned you!”

Fuck. Goddess, she wished Derrick was here. He was a smooth talker. He’d get them out of this. All she had was stupid Luca. Luca was freaking useless. He was only good for blowing shit up or breaking and entering. “We’re keeping our residence at Garreg Mach quiet. I’m sure Professor asked her not to say anything.”

“Where are you staying?” Sylvain asked, leaning on Sara’s table. She leaned back. “I would have noticed you in our dormitories, that’s for sure.”

“Um…” Luca clenched his hands, obviously wishing his staff was on hand instead of leaning against a back wall. “We’ve been…staying inside…”

“Back up, everybody. Give them some space.” Then Father was standing, his voice finally bent into something familiar, and most of the Blue Lions obediently shuffled backwards. Father smiled down at them apologetically, and Sara felt her heart settle. Luca hesitantly smiled back. “Sorry about that. We don’t meet new people very frequently. They’re just a little excited.”

It was a blatant lie. They were grilling them, and Sara had never received anti-interrogation training. Sarah craned her head, looking over Ashe’s shoulder, and saw Mother sitting at her desk. She was watching them, eyes somber. This was the familiar ‘I can’t help you with this one’. She was right - stepping in for them now would only make everything worse.

Luca smiled at Father, small but shining. Luca’s smiles always made him seem like a kind person. He was, in his own way. “Thanks, Your Highness. You’re really nice, you know.”

Father stared at Luca. He seemed a little struck. Dedue looked at Father, tilting his head.

“Congratulations,” Felix drawled, crossing his arms. “You’ve hooked another one. A few textbooks and some performative kindness are all it takes, isn’t it?”

Father subsided, as if his world had returned to order. He looked away, slowly sitting back down. “It’s my duty as head of house and crown prince to help out those I can.”

“Not even denying that it’s performative, huh.” Felix looked around at the Blue Lions around him, who were beginning to look a little exasperated. “Am I the only one who caught that? Or am I just the only one who cares?”

And, before Sara could think better of it, she said, “But he misdirected us twice.”

Father froze, but Felix just looked intrigued. “Does the new girl have functioning ears? What’d he do?”

Even more surprisingly, it was Luca who popped up. “F - His Ma - His Highness doesn’t just do nice things because it’s his job. His Highness is nice because he wants to be nice. It’s not complicated.”

As always, Sara and Luca were thinking the exact same thing. Sara could complete his thought easily. “At the end of the day, somebody who’s nice naturally and somebody who’s nice because they work hard to be nice are both nice people. I don’t believe it actually matters much.”

“Never mind,” Felix said, “I’m still surrounded by morons. Shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up.”

Before Sara could react to that at all, Mother announced the end of the break. The rest of the class returned to staring at them, even more intently than before.

Unlike before, Sara could feel Father’s eyes stronger than anybody else.

The second half of lessons were split into groups - one half of the class on the Authority side, the other half on the Magic side. Everybody watched avidly as Luca drifted into the Magic side, and Sara hurriedly took a seat next to Petra on the Authority side. Luca gave her mournful looks from across the room - Sara got to sit with Mother and Father, and Luca was stuck looking into the eyes of teenage Felix.

Who, as it turns out, was the worst Felix.

Sara slipped into the seat next to Petra as Byleth began writing out supply lines. As it turned out, Petra was a very studious young woman. Sara arbitrarily mentally declared her the favorite Teen Auntie, if only because she hadn’t closed in on Sara and gone for her throat. Father stopped awkwardly near her desk, saw that Ingrid and Ashe were sitting behind her again, and hurried to sit in front of her next to Sylvain. Who was also the worst Sylvain.

It took a shocking amount of courage, but Sara managed to lean in closer to Petra. She summoned her best Princes Smile #3: ‘Let’s be friends, and I actually mean it!’. “What’s your name? You never introduced yourself.”

Petra looked up, blinking owlishly. “I am Petra, from Brigid. And you are Sara from no place, yes?”

No place? It was all wrong and true enough. Sara from the Fargus Empire - the Empire that didn’t exist. Sara from the Fargus Kingdom - a kingdom missing thousands of souls. Sara from home - far from home. That, at least, Petra had to understand.

“For right now, yes. I’ve been to Brigid a few times.” Visiting you. “It’s a lovely country.”

Petra perked up, her face clearing. It was an expression Sara had seen a hundred times, on a face very different from Petra’s own. “Yes? I am glad! What place in Brigid you visit?”

“The capital. The water was gorgeous, but I was bit to death by a thousand mosquitos.” Sara stuck her tongue out, and Petra giggled. “Luca almost drowned in the beach. Our father had to jump in and rescue him.”

“Ah! Yes, our water is very danger. If you not careful, you drown. What is the word…” Petra made a large swooshing motion with her hand. “These. Killer water.”

“Waves?”

“Like waves! But much of waves. Killer much of waves.”

“A tsunami?”

Petra snapped her fingers, beaming. “We have tsunamis! They destroy whole towns. Beautiful to see.”

Sara wanted to be best friends with Petra so bad. She had always seemed impossibly cool, but Sara could count the number of times she’d spoken to the woman on her fingers. The Petra here and now, smiling cautiously at her, almost felt like somebody new.

And somebody familiar. The way she held herself, the way she walked - strong, dignified, with an upright chin and straight shoulders. But it was small too. Petra made herself small. Sara had only seen it on one other person.

It shouldn’t have been surprising. But some part of Sara had filed that small strength away as ‘just Derrick’. Seeing it in Petra too…

Sara leaned in, lowering her voice slightly. Everybody was carefully not-staring, but she didn’t really care. “You would like my best friend from back home. He’s like you. Politically, I mean.”

Petra’s eyes widened. Sylvain obviously leaned back in his chair. “Yes? And you are best friends?”

“He’s my favorite person,” Sara said. “Don’t tell him I said that.”

Petra smiled. “That is my promise!”

“You guys whispering about boys?” Sylvain asked loudly, and Petra and Sara sprang apart. He was twisted around in his chair, elbow resting on the back. “Which ones in the class are cutest? Come on, you can tell me.”

As always - and surprisingly - it was Father who came to Sara’s rescue. He twisted to face Sylvain, waving a hand in front of his face. It was so teenager and deeply adorable. “Sylvain! Leave them alone and focus, please!”

“Whoah, whoah, touchy!” Sylvain straightened, and after a second he grinned at Dimitri. “Wait a minute. Wait a minute -”

“Please refrain from finishing that sentence.”

“You’re blushing!” Christmas had come early for Sylvain, and he raised his voice again. “Everybody look, His Highness is -”

“Paying attention,” Mother said. That was the end of that.

#my writing #my asks #yeah.#no defense for this one.#just really wanted to see sara meet the blue lions and deal with how they had always been weird #dimitri out here like 'we are all equals and friends :)' and sara out here like. it is actively insulting to say that. who are you.#local girl absolutely overburdened by responsibility and decides to ignore all of it news at 11

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ifreakingloveroyals · 3 months ago

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Through the Years → Felipe VI of Spain (3,254/∞) 11 June 2024 | King Felipe VI on his arrival to preside over the meeting of the Chapter of the Royal Military Order of San Hermenegildo, at the Monastery of San Lorenzo del Escorial, in San Lorenzo del Escorial, Madrid, Spain. The Order of San Hermenegildo was instituted in 1814 by Ferdinand VII in recognition of the constancy in the military service to the officers of the Army. It is currently held every two years. (Photo By Diego Radames/Europa Press via Getty Images)

#King Felipe VI #Spain #2024 #Diego Radames #Europa Press via Getty Images #through the years: Felipe

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xx-nox-vox-xx · 3 months ago

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Some sick fucks get off on the worst kinda shit imaginable.

These people have families, respectable jobs, expensive apartments, cars and big corpo bosses who will burn them for getting caught with their pants down.

Some reporters get off on doxxing those fuckers and giving a voice to their victims.

These reporters are me.

A list of "Satan's" buyers who commissioned custom brain dances of the human trafficking, rape and murder of innocent citizens:

Arasaka employees:

Allison Eldridge

Priscilla Barry

Brett Spencer

Darrell Frank

Guillermo Gomez

Jennifer Ferrell

Phillip Emery

Militech Employees:

Roxanne Ballard

Susana Ellis

Andre Holmes

Deb Crane

Ray Turner

Shane Cardenas

Mohammed Sheppard

Felipe Coffey

Kristie Mora

Lowell Hewitt

Ali Parsons

Taylor Barker

Yolanda Sampson

Brittany Padilla

Heidi Irwin

Lynn Downs

Jeri Buck

Irene Liu

Cindy Kemp

Warren Jackson

Kang Tao Employees:

Sheila Chase

Bret Anderson

Alicia Proctor

Ernie Brock

Carole Moore

Mabel Draper

Bio Technica Employees:

Gene Fuentes

Amy Hastings

Emma Kendall

Sophia Parrish

Lori Villanueva

Nichole Shafer

Stewart Schultz

Trauma Team Employees:

Rachel Dennis

Franklin Owen

Cassandra Fleming

Rod Dickerson

Ronda Sprague

Lorraine Bray

NCPD Employees:

Dina Snyder

Kurt Ritter

Karin Arroyo

Corey Jacobs

Eileen Parsons

Tonya Mason

Craig Clay

Night City government employees:

Janine Thomas

Debora Shields

Leslie McClure

Brooke Hodge

Diana Key

Constance Bolton

Dena Oleson

Ross Grey

Karl Cross

Jan Yoder

Stuart Summers

Marvin Godfrey

Allison Pratt

Kelli Hardin

Lupe Burnett

Zetatech Employees:

Noel Levy

Glenda Barton

Florence Eldridge

Terri Ayala

Ken Massey

Natasha Sexton

Tara Welch

Julia Starr

Suzanne Williams

Erika Delgado

Vera Chandler

Herman Pearce

Nick Nguyen

Jeanne Guerra

Krioshi Optics Employees:

Marco Haley

Stewart Keith

Francisca Lindsey

Wendell Crawford

Andre Harman

Jerry Hinton

Lora Chaney

Erica Hudson

Clinton Benton

Tami Field

Lucinda Pope

Marion Nicholson

Sabrina Allison

Faye Stokes

Ron Tucker

Net watch Employees:

Lorna Mooney

Cara Sellers

Jessie Callahan

Young Blair

Ronda Lawson

Dominic Graham

Alexander Bartlett

Mandy Parsons

Ramon Sexton

Night City Bank Employees:

Mattie Ferguson

Austin Long

Salvador Bell

Lucille Coleman

Chelsea Reeves

Stacy Watson

All foods employees:

Tara Johns

Holly Goodwin

Jackie McDowell

George Blake

Tammie Moss

Elsie Wilder

Miranda Delaney

Rolando Swanson

Budget Arms Employees:

Robyn Clayton

Marc Gomez

Gretchen Hodges

Matthew Barber

Veronica Allison

Stefanie Gibson

Emmanuel Robison

Private Citizens:

Lucas Barron

Mario Pearson

Sandi Norman

Spencer Drake

Aaron Greene

Adam Garrison

Steve Rush

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vickyvioletdraws · 6 years ago

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DnD Freyr and Jeckeldorn

Jeckeldorn Constance, a famous elf wizard who was once the mentor of my character Felipe... Or rather, that's what she would have you think. Freyr Leofric is an old OC belonging to AkiAmeko of whom she asked me to redesign for DnD.

People in 2008: "Freyr's hat and wide belt are STUPID." Me: *keeps the hat and gives him an even wider belt with BELTS on it.*

#vickyvioletdraws #akiameko #dnd #Dungeons and Dragons #oc #freyr leofric #jeckeldorn constance #felipe #elf #wizard #half elf #sketch

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felipeandletizia · 4 years ago

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June 18, 2021: King Felipe, Queen Letizia, Princess Leonor and Infanta Sofia attended an event of delivery of the Order of Civil Merit Condecorations to mark the 7th anniversary of King Felipe’s proclamation.

On the occasion of the seventh anniversary of the Proclamation of His Majesty the King, as on previous occasions -2015 and 2019- it is a matter of expressing the recognition of the Crown to those who carry out their life and ordinary professional work in an exemplary way, at the service of society.

On this occasion, in a very special way, for their contribution during the challenge of Covid-19, we recognize citizens for their example of personal commitment and social contribution.

The selection, with criteria of representation and territorial and sectoral balance, is the result of the Crown’s contact with society and has been carried out with the institutional contribution of all the administrations and also of many other entities, organizations, associations and representative groups in different fields, labor, economic, social, educational and cultural. Those who have been recognized with the Medal of the Order of Civil Merit are a reflection of the situation experienced by millions of people in the time marked by the pandemic and its consequences.

The 17 Autonomous Communities and the two Autonomous Cities are represented, with twice the representation, the Communities with a population of more than 5 million (Andalusia, Catalonia, Valencian Community and Madrid). There are 16 women and 8 men aged between 30 and 74 years old.

The professions represented have to do with different sectors: Health, Research, Agriculture, Livestock, Fishing, Hospitality, Commerce, Transport, Logistics, Services, Volunteering, Education and Culture. During the most acute phase of the pandemic and confinement, all these sectors showed the fundamental role they play every day in the lives of citizens. There are five fundamental groups of awarded: those linked to the rural world and the primary sector, those related to knowledge management (education, culture and science), those linked to volunteering and the third sector, health workers and, finally, some of the professions that were shown, in addition to health workers, as essential during the confinement of the pandemic.

During the event, Their Majesties the King and Queen, HRH the Princess of Asturias and HRH the Infanta Doña Sofía were accompanied by the Minister of Foreign Affairs, European Union and Cooperation and Grand Chancellor of the Order of Civil Merit, Arancha González Spade; the Undersecretary of Foreign Affairs, European Union and Cooperation and Chancellor of the Order of Civil Merit, María Celsa Nuño; and by the general director of Protocol, Chancellery and Orders and secretary of the Order of Civil Merit, Caridad Batalla.

Elena Ochoa, who acted as master of ceremony, read the biographies of the citizens who received the decorations of the Order of Civil Merit, which were:

- Don David Lafuente Rico (1982), farmer from La Rioja. - Doña Noelia Aparicio Martínez (1972), rancher from La Milla del Río (Castilla y León). - Don Manuel Vinatea Fernández (1961), Sailor from Santoña (Cantabria). - Doña Cristina Crespo Miñana (1973), materials researcher from Zaragoza (Aragon). - Doña María del Mar Delgado Serrano (1967), researcher from Córdoba (Andalusia). - Don Esteban Orenes Piñero (1978), biosanitary researcher from Murcia. - Doña Cristina García Sánchez (1978), early childhood education teacher from Ceuta. - Doña Natividad Baldominos Baldominos (1967), solidarity singer from Guadalajara (Castilla-La Mancha). - Doña Carmen Martínez Valladares (1951), volunteer on the phone. of the hope of Silleda, Pontevedra (Galicia). - Doña Margalida Jordà Murnar (1947), director of the educational project Naüm de Sineu, Mallorca (Balearic Islands). - Don Miguel Herrera (1987), solidarity cook from Algodonales, Cádiz (Andalusia). - Doña Silvia Cano Moreno (1970), doctor from Melilla. - Don Fernando Gómez Gil (1980), nurse from Pamplona (Navarra). - Doña Alice Mihaela Cozma (1988), ambulance driver from Extremadura. - Doña Nuria Cascales Picó (1990), Pharmaceutical from Torremanzanas, Alicante (Valencian Community). - Don Antonio Roldán Bonilla (1947), Mercamadrid worker in the Community of Madrid. - Doña Cristina Díaz López (1976) and Don Sergio Mediavilla Cuesta (1974), owners of a grocery store and n the Community of Madrid. - Mrs. Virginia Marquinez Insagurbe (1984), director of the Vitoria-Gasteiz post office (Basque Country). - Don Albert Esteve Robles (1986), transporter from Lleida (Catalonia). - Doña Yukonda Esparragoza Jiménez (1971), manager of a laundry in Gran Canaria (Canary Islands). - Don Luis Alberto Ramos Fernández (1960), waste treatment worker in Oviedo (Principality of Asturias). - Doña Marta Muñoz Escrivá (1991), hospitality assistant in Valencia (Valencian Community). - Doña Elena García Solís (1979), supermarket cashier in Badalona (Catalonia).

At the end of the act in the Hall of Columns, the King and Queen, the Princess of Asturias and the Infanta Doña Sofía, went to the Hall of Halberdiers, where a group photograph with the decorated ones took place. Later, they held a meeting with the winning children of the school contest “What is a King for you?”

The Order of Civil Merit was instituted by King Alfonso XIII, by Royal Decree of June 25, 1926, to reward “the civic virtues of officials at the service of the State, as well as the extraordinary services of Spanish and foreign citizens in the good of the Nation ”.

The preamble to the order states that “its purpose is to reward merits of a civil nature, acquired by personnel dependent on any of the public Administrations” or “by persons outside the Administration, who render or have rendered relevant services to the State. , with extraordinary work, profitable initiatives, or with exemplary constancy in the fulfillment of their duties. This decoration may also be awarded to persons of foreign nationality, provided they have rendered distinguished services to Spain or a notable collaboration in all matters that benefit the Nation. His Majesty the King is the Grand Master of the Order of Civil Merit. All the decorations of this order will be conferred in his name and the corresponding titles will be authorized with the stamp of his signature.

#King Felipe #Queen Letizia #Princess Leonor #Infanta Sofia #King Felipe of Spain #Queen Letizia of Spain #Princess Leonor of Asturias #Infanta Sofia of Spain #King Felipe VI #Princess of Asturias #King Felipe VI of Spain #Official Event #20210618 #June 2021

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honeyleesblog · 2 years ago

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July 21 Zodiac - Full Horoscope Personality

A piece vain, with a marvelous disposition: they are protectors of nature and provincial life. They are keen on horticulture and appreciate the excellence of nature in the entirety of its structures. Unequivocal and patient, they are individuals with political propensities and public person. They are extremely delicate to a wide range of impacts, thusly they can't feel cheerful except if they are in an agreeable climate. Patient, serene: dependable in their feelings and connections, fit for forfeiting themselves for their friends and family and goals. Respectable, profound thought, alluringly powerful over others. They will make progress according to land, houses, land, as well as water, ocean and route. Your marriage doesn't guarantee bliss, despite the fact that it could bring some material addition. The deficiencies of this birthday incorporate being genuinely and erotically degenerate, inefficiency, and shortcoming of will, making them untrustworthy. They will have a few errors with their folks. They can get past life deftly, despite the fact that they need to get cash only for it, so they could risk becoming tightfisted. Their wellbeing is very sensitive: they are misused areas of strength for with, awful news, worry for their friends and family or monetary challenges. There is an inclination to stress and over the top distortion. Fretfulness, disappointment, and accomplishments made in a negative way adversely impact processing. Treating these individuals' sicknesses ought to likewise incorporate focusing on their creative mind, which continues to track down new explanations behind concern.

July 21 Zodiac - Full Horoscope Personality

In the event that your birthday is July 21, your zodiac sign is Malignant growth

July 21 - character and character character: perfect, diligent, autonomous, hateful, severe, brutal calling: dressmaker, janitor, engine driver tones: pink, brown, red stone: coral creature: starfish plant: poplar fortunate numbers: 4,18,19,31,41,55 very fortunate number: 21 Occasions and Observances - July 21 Venezuela: Public Veterinary Specialist Day. Bolivia: Day of the saints of the Public Upset. Guam: Freedom Day. Belgium: Public day. July 21 Superstar Birthday. Who was conceived that very day as you? 1903: Silvina Ocampo, Argentine essayist, brief tale author and writer (f. 1993) 1905: Miguel Mihura, Spanish essayist, visual artist and comedian (f. 1977). 1911: Marshall McLuhan, Canadian writer (d. 1980). 1917: Emilio Romero Gდ³mez, Spanish columnist. 1919: Nuto Revelli, Italian essayist. 1920: Constance Dowling, American entertainer. 1920: Zelmar Guenol, Argentine entertainer and jokester (d. 1985). 1920: Steady Nieuwenhuys, Dutch painter (d. 2005). 1920: Isaac Harsh, Ukrainian musician. 1922: Juana Ginzo, Spanish radio entertainer. 1923: Rudolph Marcus, American physicist, 1992 Nobel Prize in Science. 1924: Wear Knotts, American entertainer (d. 2006). 1925: Osiris Rodrდguez Castillos, Uruguayan writer and author. 1926: Norman Jewison, Canadian producer. 1926: Bill Pertwee, English comic entertainer (d. 2013). 1930: Javier Escrivდ¡, Spanish entertainer. 1934: Anatoli Geleskul, Russian interpreter (d. 2011). 1935: Juan Pablo Izquierdo, performer, Chilean guide, Public Award of Melodic Crafts of Chile. 1936: Julio Valdeდ³n Baruque, Spanish antiquarian. 1938: Janet Reno, previous US head legal officer. 1939: Chacho Echenique, Argentine folkloric creator and author, of the Salteno Pair. 1939: John Negroponte, American ambassador. 1940: Alcy Cheuiche, Brazilian essayist. 1941: Tina Serrano, Argentine entertainer. 1943: Edward Herrmann, American entertainer (d. 2014). 1943: Lucrecia Mდ©ndez de Penedo, Guatemalan teacher, abstract pundit and writer. 1944: John Evans Atta Plants, Ghanaian president (d. 2012). 1944: Tony Scott, English producer (d. 2012). 1946: Domingo Felipe Cavallo, Argentine business analyst. 1948: Beppe Grillo, Italian joke artist, entertainer and government official. 1948: Feline Stevens (Yusuf Islam), English artist. 1948: Litto Nebbia, Argentine artist. 1948: Guillermo Ortiz Martდnez, Mexican business analyst. 1949: Franco Simone, Italian artist musician. 1949: Oscar Osqui Amante, Argentine guitarist and artist, of the band Oveja Negra (f. 2014). 1950: Ubaldo Fillol, Argentine soccer player. 1951: Robin Williams, American entertainer (d. 2014). 1955: Marcelo Bielsa, Argentine soccer player and mentor. 1955: Joaquდn Galდ¡n, Argentine artist musician, of the Pimpinela team. 1955: Andrდ©s Palma, Chilean business analyst. 1957: Jon Lovitz, American entertainer and joke artist. 1958: Liliana Bodoc, Argentine essayist. 1958? Giulia Tamayo Leდ³n, Peruvian legal counselor, protector of ladies' privileges (f. 2014). 1960: Fritz Walter, German footballer. 1961: Jim Martin, American guitarist, of the band Confidence No More. 1962: Lee Aaron, Canadian artist. 1964: Gustavo Bermდºdez, Argentine entertainer. 1965: Javier Calamaro, Argentine artist. 1966: Gabriel Schultz, Argentine radio and TV host and columnist. 1967: Dmitri Kholodov, Russian columnist (d. 1994). 1968: Brandi Chastain, American footballer. 1969: Klaus Graf, German motorsport driver. 1970: Michael Fitzpatrick, American artist of the band Fitz and The Fits of rage 1971: Charlotte Gainsbourg, French entertainer and vocalist. 1973: Fey, Mexican artist. 1974: Jordi დ‰vole, Spanish comedian. 1978: Josh Hartnett, American entertainer. 1978: Justin Bartha, American entertainer. 1978: Damian Marley, Jamaican artist. 1979: Tania Llasera, Spanish entertainer and moderator. 1981: Paloma Confidence, English artist and entertainer. 1981: Joaquდn Sდ¡nchez, Spanish footballer. 1981: Stefan Schumacher, German cyclist. 1981: Romeo Santos, American artist musician. 1983: Eivor Pდ¡lsdდ³ttir, Faroese artist musician. 1985: Wei-Yin Chen, Taiwanese baseball player. 1985: Von Wafer, American ball player. 1986: Fernando Tielve, Spanish entertainer. 1986: Anthony Annan, Ghanaian footballer. 1986: Rebecca Ferguson, English artist. 1986: Livia Brito, Cuban entertainer 1988: DeAndre Jordan, American ball player. 1989: Rory Culkin, American entertainer. 1989: Jamie Waylett, English entertainer. 1989: Marco Fabiდ¡n, Mexican soccer player.

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allbestnet · 7 years ago

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100 Best First Lines of Novels

Call me Ishmael. Moby-Dick by Herman Melville (1851)

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife. Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen (1813)

A screaming comes across the sky. Gravity's Rainbow by Thomas Pynchon (1973)

Many years later, as he faced the firing squad, Colonel Aureliano Buendía was to remember that distant afternoon when his father took him to discover ice. One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel García Márquez (trans. Gregory Rabassa) (1967)

Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov (1955)

Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way. Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy (trans. Constance Garnett) (1877)

riverrun, past Eve and Adam's, from swerve of shore to bend of bay, brings us by a commodius vicus of recirculation back to Howth Castle and Environs. Finnegans Wake by James Joyce (1939)

It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen. 1984 by George Orwell (1949)

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair. A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens (1859)

I am an invisible man. Invisible Man by Ralph Ellison (1952)

The Miss Lonelyhearts of the New York Post-Dispatch (Are you in trouble?—Do-you-need-advice?—Write-to-Miss-Lonelyhearts-and-she-will-help-you) sat at his desk and stared at a piece of white cardboard. Miss Lonelyhearts by Nathanael West (1933)

You don't know about me without you have read a book by the name of The Adventures of Tom Sawyer; but that ain't no matter. Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain (1885)

Someone must have slandered Josef K., for one morning, without having done anything truly wrong, he was arrested. The Trial by Franz Kafka (trans. Breon Mitchell) (1925)

You are about to begin reading Italo Calvino's new novel, If on a winter's night a traveler. If on a winter's night a traveler by Italo Calvino (trans. William Weaver) (1979)

The sun shone, having no alternative, on the nothing new. Murphy by Samuel Beckett (1938)

If you really want to hear about it, the first thing you'll probably want to know is where I was born, and what my lousy childhood was like, and how my parents were occupied and all before they had me, and all that David Copperfield kind of crap, but I don't feel like going into it, if you want to know the truth. The Catcher in the Rye by J. D. Salinger (1951)

Once upon a time and a very good time it was there was a moocow coming down along the road and this moocow that was coming down along the road met a nicens little boy named baby tuckoo. A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man by James Joyce (1916)

This is the saddest story I have ever heard. The Good Soldier by Ford Madox Ford (1915)

I wish either my father or my mother, or indeed both of them, as they were in duty both equally bound to it, had minded what they were about when they begot me; had they duly considered how much depended upon what they were then doing;—that not only the production of a rational Being was concerned in it, but that possibly the happy formation and temperature of his body, perhaps his genius and the very cast of his mind;—and, for aught they knew to the contrary, even the fortunes of his whole house might take their turn from the humours and dispositions which were then uppermost:—Had they duly weighed and considered all this, and proceeded accordingly,—I am verily persuaded I should have made a quite different figure in the world, from that, in which the reader is likely to see me. Tristram Shandy by Laurence Sterne (1759–1767)

Whether I shall turn out to be the hero of my own life, or whether that station will be held by anybody else, these pages must show. David Copperfield by Charles Dickens (1850)

Stately, plump Buck Mulligan came from the stairhead, bearing a bowl of lather on which a mirror and a razor lay crossed. Ulysses by James Joyce (1922)

It was a dark and stormy night; the rain fell in torrents, except at occasional intervals, when it was checked by a violent gust of wind which swept up the streets (for it is in London that our scene lies), rattling along the house-tops, and fiercely agitating the scanty flame of the lamps that struggled against the darkness. Paul Clifford by Edward George Bulwer-Lytton (1830)

One summer afternoon Mrs. Oedipa Maas came home from a Tupperware party whose hostess had put perhaps too much kirsch in the fondue to find that she, Oedipa, had been named executor, or she supposed executrix, of the estate of one Pierce Inverarity, a California real estate mogul who had once lost two million dollars in his spare time but still had assets numerous and tangled enough to make the job of sorting it all out more than honorary. The Crying of Lot 49 by Thomas Pynchon (1966)

It was a wrong number that started it, the telephone ringing three times in the dead of night, and the voice on the other end asking for someone he was not. City of Glass by Paul Auster (1985)

Through the fence, between the curling flower spaces, I could see them hitting. The Sound and the Fury by William Faulkner (1929)

124 was spiteful. Beloved by Toni Morrison (1987)

Somewhere in la Mancha, in a place whose name I do not care to remember, a gentleman lived not long ago, one of those who has a lance and ancient shield on a shelf and keeps a skinny nag and a greyhound for racing. Don Quixote by Miguel de Cervantes (trans. Edith Grossman) (1605)

Mother died today. The Stranger by Albert Camus (trans. Stuart Gilbert) (1942)

Every summer Lin Kong returned to Goose Village to divorce his wife, Shuyu. Waiting by Ha Jin (1999)

The sky above the port was the color of television, tuned to a dead channel. Neuromancer by William Gibson (1984)

I am a sick man . . . I am a spiteful man. Notes from Underground by Fyodor Dostoyevsky (trans. Michael R. Katz) (1864)

Where now? Who now? When now? The Unnamable by Samuel Beckett (trans. Patrick Bowles) (1953)

Once an angry man dragged his father along the ground through his own orchard. “Stop!” cried the groaning old man at last, “Stop! I did not drag my father beyond this tree.” The Making of Americans by Gertrude Stein (1925)

In a sense, I am Jacob Horner. The End of the Road by John Barth (1958)

It was like so, but wasn't. Galatea 2.2 by Richard Powers (1995)

—Money . . . in a voice that rustled. J R by William Gaddis (1975)

Mrs. Dalloway said she would buy the flowers herself. Mrs. Dalloway by Virginia Woolf (1925)

All this happened, more or less. Slaughterhouse-Five by Kurt Vonnegut (1969)

They shoot the white girl first. Paradise by Toni Morrison (1998)

For a long time, I went to bed early. Swann's Way by Marcel Proust (trans. Lydia Davis) (1913)

The moment one learns English, complications set in. Chromos by Felipe Alfau (1990)

Dr. Weiss, at forty, knew that her life had been ruined by literature. The Debut by Anita Brookner (1981)

I was the shadow of the waxwing slain / By the false azure in the windowpane; Pale Fire by Vladimir Nabokov (1962)

Ships at a distance have every man's wish on board. Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neale Hurston (1937)

I had the story, bit by bit, from various people, and, as generally happens in such cases, each time it was a different story. Ethan Frome by Edith Wharton (1911)

Ages ago, Alex, Allen and Alva arrived at Antibes, and Alva allowing all, allowing anyone, against Alex's admonition, against Allen's angry assertion: another African amusement . . . anyhow, as all argued, an awesome African army assembled and arduously advanced against an African anthill, assiduously annihilating ant after ant, and afterward, Alex astonishingly accuses Albert as also accepting Africa's antipodal ant annexation. Alphabetical Africa by Walter Abish (1974)

There was a boy called Eustace Clarence Scrubb, and he almost deserved it. The Voyage of the Dawn Treader by C. S. Lewis (1952)

He was an old man who fished alone in a skiff in the Gulf Stream and he had gone eighty-four days now without taking a fish. The Old Man and the Sea by Ernest Hemingway (1952)

It was the day my grandmother exploded. The Crow Road by Iain M. Banks (1992)

I was born twice: first, as a baby girl, on a remarkably smogless Detroit day in January of 1960; and then again, as a teenage boy, in an emergency room near Petoskey, Michigan, in August of 1974. Middlesex by Jeffrey Eugenides (2002)

Elmer Gantry was drunk. Elmer Gantry by Sinclair Lewis (1927)

We started dying before the snow, and like the snow, we continued to fall. Tracks by Louise Erdrich (1988)

It was a pleasure to burn. Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury (1953)

A story has no beginning or end; arbitrarily one chooses that moment of experience from which to look back or from which to look ahead. The End of the Affair by Graham Greene (1951)

Having placed in my mouth sufficient bread for three minutes' chewing, I withdrew my powers of sensual perception and retired into the privacy of my mind, my eyes and face assuming a vacant and preoccupied expression. At Swim-Two-Birds by Flann O'Brien (1939)

I was born in the Year 1632, in the City of York, of a good Family, tho' not of that Country, my Father being a Foreigner of Bremen, who settled first at Hull; He got a good Estate by Merchandise, and leaving off his Trade, lived afterward at York, from whence he had married my Mother, whose Relations were named Robinson, a very good Family in that Country, and from whom I was called Robinson Kreutznaer; but by the usual Corruption of Words in England, we are now called, nay we call our selves, and write our Name Crusoe, and so my Companions always call'd me. Robinson Crusoe by Daniel Defoe (1719)

In the beginning, sometimes I left messages in the street. Wittgenstein's Mistress by David Markson (1988)

Miss Brooke had that kind of beauty which seems to be thrown into relief by poor dress. Middlemarch by George Eliot (1872)

It was love at first sight. Catch-22 by Joseph Heller (1961)

What if this young woman, who writes such bad poems, in competition with her husband, whose poems are equally bad, should stretch her remarkably long and well-made legs out before you, so that her skirt slips up to the tops of her stockings? Imaginative Qualities of Actual Things by Gilbert Sorrentino (1971)

I have never begun a novel with more misgiving. The Razor's Edge by W. Somerset Maugham (1944)

Once upon a time, there was a woman who discovered she had turned into the wrong person. Back When We Were Grownups by Anne Tyler (2001)

The human race, to which so many of my readers belong, has been playing at children's games from the beginning, and will probably do it till the end, which is a nuisance for the few people who grow up. The Napoleon of Notting Hill by G. K. Chesterton (1904)

In my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice that I've been turning over in my mind ever since. The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald (1925)

You better not never tell nobody but God. The Color Purple by Alice Walker (1982)

“To be born again,” sang Gibreel Farishta tumbling from the heavens, “first you have to die.” The Satanic Verses by Salman Rushdie (1988)

It was a queer, sultry summer, the summer they electrocuted the Rosenbergs, and I didn't know what I was doing in New York. The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath (1963)

Most really pretty girls have pretty ugly feet, and so does Mindy Metalman, Lenore notices, all of a sudden. The Broom of the System by David Foster Wallace (1987)

If I am out of my mind, it's all right with me, thought Moses Herzog. Herzog by Saul Bellow (1964)

Francis Marion Tarwater's uncle had been dead for only half a day when the boy got too drunk to finish digging his grave and a Negro named Buford Munson, who had come to get a jug filled, had to finish it and drag the body from the breakfast table where it was still sitting and bury it in a decent and Christian way, with the sign of its Saviour at the head of the grave and enough dirt on top to keep the dogs from digging it up. The Violent Bear it Away by Flannery O'Connor (1960)

Granted: I am an inmate of a mental hospital; my keeper is watching me, he never lets me out of his sight; there's a peephole in the door, and my keeper's eye is the shade of brown that can never see through a blue-eyed type like me. The Tin Drum by GŸnter Grass (trans. Ralph Manheim) (1959)

When Dick Gibson was a little boy he was not Dick Gibson. The Dick Gibson Show by Stanley Elkin (1971)

Hiram Clegg, together with his wife Emma and four friends of the faith from Randolph Junction, were summoned by the Spirit and Mrs. Clara Collins, widow of the beloved Nazarene preacher Ely Collins, to West Condon on the weekend of the eighteenth and nineteenth of April, there to await the End of the World. The Origin of the Brunists by Robert Coover (1966)

She waited, Kate Croy, for her father to come in, but he kept her unconscionably, and there were moments at which she showed herself, in the glass over the mantel, a face positively pale with the irritation that had brought her to the point of going away without sight of him. The Wings of the Dove by Henry James (1902)

In the late summer of that year we lived in a house in a village that looked across the river and the plain to the mountains. A Farewell to Arms by Ernest Hemingway (1929)

“Take my camel, dear,” said my Aunt Dot, as she climbed down from this animal on her return from High Mass. The Towers of Trebizon by Rose Macaulay (1956)

He was an inch, perhaps two, under six feet, powerfully built, and he advanced straight at you with a slight stoop of the shoulders, head forward, and a fixed from-under stare which made you think of a charging bull. Lord Jim by Joseph Conrad (1900)

The past is a foreign country; they do things differently there. The Go-Between by L. P. Hartley (1953)

On my naming day when I come 12 I gone front spear and kilt a wyld boar he parbly ben the las wyld pig on the Bundel Downs any how there hadnt ben none for a long time befor him nor I aint looking to see none agen. Riddley Walker by Russell Hoban (1980)

Justice?—You get justice in the next world, in this world you have the law. A Frolic of His Own by William Gaddis (1994)

Vaughan died yesterday in his last car-crash. Crash by J. G. Ballard (1973)

I write this sitting in the kitchen sink. I Capture the Castle by Dodie Smith (1948)

“When your mama was the geek, my dreamlets,” Papa would say, “she made the nipping off of noggins such a crystal mystery that the hens themselves yearned toward her, waltzing around her, hypnotized with longing.” Geek Love by Katherine Dunn (1983)

In the last years of the Seventeenth Century there was to be found among the fops and fools of the London coffee-houses one rangy, gangling flitch called Ebenezer Cooke, more ambitious than talented, and yet more talented than prudent, who, like his friends-in-folly, all of whom were supposed to be educating at Oxford or Cambridge, had found the sound of Mother English more fun to game with than her sense to labor over, and so rather than applying himself to the pains of scholarship, had learned the knack of versifying, and ground out quires of couplets after the fashion of the day, afroth with Joves and Jupiters, aclang with jarring rhymes, and string-taut with similes stretched to the snapping-point. The Sot-Weed Factor by John Barth (1960)

When I finally caught up with Abraham Trahearne, he was drinking beer with an alcoholic bulldog named Fireball Roberts in a ramshackle joint just outside of Sonoma, California, drinking the heart right out of a fine spring afternoon. The Last Good Kiss by James Crumley (1978)

It was just noon that Sunday morning when the sheriff reached the jail with Lucas Beauchamp though the whole town (the whole county too for that matter) had known since the night before that Lucas had killed a white man. Intruder in the Dust by William Faulkner (1948)

I, Tiberius Claudius Drusus Nero Germanicus This-that-and-the-other (for I shall not trouble you yet with all my titles) who was once, and not so long ago either, known to my friends and relatives and associates as “Claudius the Idiot,” or “That Claudius,” or “Claudius the Stammerer,” or “Clau-Clau-Claudius” or at best as “Poor Uncle Claudius,” am now about to write this strange history of my life; starting from my earliest childhood and continuing year by year until I reach the fateful point of change where, some eight years ago, at the age of fifty-one, I suddenly found myself caught in what I may call the “golden predicament” from which I have never since become disentangled. I, Claudius by Robert Graves (1934)

Of all the things that drive men to sea, the most common disaster, I've come to learn, is women. Middle Passage by Charles Johnson (1990)

I am an American, Chicago born—Chicago, that somber city—and go at things as I have taught myself, free-style, and will make the record in my own way: first to knock, first admitted; sometimes an innocent knock, sometimes a not so innocent. The Adventures of Augie March by Saul Bellow (1953)

The towers of Zenith aspired above the morning mist; austere towers of steel and cement and limestone, sturdy as cliffs and delicate as silver rods. Babbitt by Sinclair Lewis (1922)

I will tell you in a few words who I am: lover of the hummingbird that darts to the flower beyond the rotted sill where my feet are propped; lover of bright needlepoint and the bright stitching fingers of humorless old ladies bent to their sweet and infamous designs; lover of parasols made from the same puffy stuff as a young girl's underdrawers; still lover of that small naval boat which somehow survived the distressing years of my life between her decks or in her pilothouse; and also lover of poor dear black Sonny, my mess boy, fellow victim and confidant, and of my wife and child. But most of all, lover of my harmless and sanguine self. Second Skin by John Hawkes (1964)

He was born with a gift of laughter and a sense that the world was mad. Scaramouche by Raphael Sabatini (1921)

Psychics can see the color of time it's blue. Blown Away by Ronald Sukenick (1986)

In the town, there were two mutes and they were always together. The Heart is a Lonely Hunter by Carson McCullers (1940)

Once upon a time two or three weeks ago, a rather stubborn and determined middle-aged man decided to record for posterity, exactly as it happened, word by word and step by step, the story of another man for indeed what is great in man is that he is a bridge and not a goal, a somewhat paranoiac fellow unmarried, unattached, and quite irresponsible, who had decided to lock himself in a room a furnished room with a private bath, cooking facilities, a bed, a table, and at least one chair, in New York City, for a year 365 days to be precise, to write the story of another person—a shy young man about of 19 years old—who, after the war the Second World War, had come to America the land of opportunities from France under the sponsorship of his uncle—a journalist, fluent in five languages—who himself had come to America from Europe Poland it seems, though this was not clearly established sometime during the war after a series of rather gruesome adventures, and who, at the end of the war, wrote to the father his cousin by marriage of the young man whom he considered as a nephew, curious to know if he the father and his family had survived the German occupation, and indeed was deeply saddened to learn, in a letter from the young man—a long and touching letter written in English, not by the young man, however, who did not know a damn word of English, but by a good friend of his who had studied English in school—that his parents both his father and mother and his two sisters one older and the other younger than he had been deported they were Jewish to a German concentration camp Auschwitz probably and never returned, no doubt having been exterminated deliberately X * X * X * X, and that, therefore, the young man who was now an orphan, a displaced person, who, during the war, had managed to escape deportation by working very hard on a farm in Southern France, would be happy and grateful to be given the opportunity to come to America that great country he had heard so much about and yet knew so little about to start a new life, possibly go to school, learn a trade, and become a good, loyal citizen. Double or Nothing by Raymond Federman (1971)

Time is not a line but a dimension, like the dimensions of space. Cat's Eye by Margaret Atwood (1988)

He—for there could be no doubt of his sex, though the fashion of the time did something to disguise it—was in the act of slicing at the head of a Moor which swung from the rafters. Orlando by Virginia Woolf (1928)

High, high above the North Pole, on the first day of 1969, two professors of English Literature approached each other at a combined velocity of 1200 miles per hour. Changing Places by David Lodge (1975)

They say when trouble comes close ranks, and so the white people did. Wide Sargasso Sea by Jean Rhys (1966)

The cold passed reluctantly from the earth, and the retiring fogs revealed an army stretched out on the hills, resting. The Red Badge of Courage by Stephen Crane (1895)

#novels #fiction #booklovers #books #first line #first lines #quote #quotes

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theroyalcorrespondent · 3 years ago

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(VIDEO) His Majesty King Felipe VI of Spain Presides Over the Chapter of the Royal and Military Order of St. Hermenegildo in Madrid.

On Tuesday, June 14, 2022, His Majesty King Felipe VI of Spain presided over the chapter of the Royal and Military Order of St. Hermenegildo held at the Royal Monastery of San Lorenzo de El Escorial in Madrid. Established in 1814 by Fernando VII, at the proposal of the Council of War and Navy, the Royal and Military Order of San Hermenegildo recognizes the constancy in the military service of…

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atravesdelaspalabras · 3 years ago

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La filmación de la comodidad

Detrás de cámaras de lo que el público ve

“¡Es que la Naturaleza es tan incómoda!” (Wilde, 1898)

Oscar Wilde (1898) en su escrito La Decadencia de la Mentira: Un Comentario afirma la oración exclamativa anterior y la refuerza comentando que si la Naturaleza hubiera sido cómoda, la humanidad no habría inventado la arquitectura, […] En las casas nos sentimos proporcionados. Todo se subordina a nosotros, todo está hecho para nuestra utilidad y nuestra satisfacción.

Para entender un poco más el comentario de Oscar Wilde hay que situarse en la Ciudad de México, siendo más específicos en Lamartine 516, Polanco, Ciudad de México. El hotel The Wild Oscar. En el hotel, Wilde se hubiera sentido cómodo, así como lo comentaba, con arquitectura en un espacio proporcionado. La estancia en el hotel está hecha a su medida, limitándome a decir que se sentiría “como un pez en el agua” para no vincularlo a la incomodidad de la Naturaleza.

¡Luces, cámara, arquitectura, más cámaras y…, acción!

Domingo 20 de febrero de 2022, 5:40 am; día y hora de llamado para realizar la filmación para el hotel The Wild Oscar. Polytropos AC fue la casa productora encargada de realizar dicha filmación. Cámaras por doquier, en el Lobby Lounge, en habitaciones del hotel, en el Restaurante Constance, entre muchas más, para captar diferentes escenas pero que estarán vinculadas con la magia de la edición.

Fotos: Hotel The Wild Oscar. Casa Productora Polytropos. Productora Valeria Estefan. Director Luis Felipe Ferra. Cámara B Adair Calderón, Foto Julieta Hernández.

Wilde (1898) hace un comentario acertado para esta filmación, menciona que en el fondo lo que realmente nos dan las artes imitativas no son sino los diversos estilos de los artistas individuales, o de determinadas escuelas de artistas. En esta ocasión, un director (Luis Felipe Ferra) y dos operadores de cámaras (cámara A Diego Vargas, cámara B Adair Calderón), pero una misma esencia. La dirección fue la encargada de unir los estilos de los operadores de cámaras para generar congruencia en las escenas sin necesidad de estar establecidos en la misma locación.

Fotos: Hotel The Wild Oscar. Casa Productora Polytropos. Productora Valeria Estefan. Director Luis Felipe Ferra. Cámara A Diego Vargas (imagen izquierda), cámara B Adair Calderón (imagen derecha). Foto Julieta Hernández.

Se me permitió capturar, a través de mi lente, el detrás de cámaras de las escenas que se filmaron. Previamente se realizo el shooting list de ambas cámaras para saber con lujo de detalle las horas específicas para grabar, ser lo más productivos y que ningún segundo fuera perdido.

Fui testigo de diferentes escenas. A continuación se presenta una fotografía de la secuencia 8 en donde Natalia Ricaud (personaje 1) posa outfits frente a Isabella Maawad (personaje 2) y ella reacciona al vestido que más le gusta. En la fotografía se puede observar que la cámara está en un plano medium close up, la posición de la misma es level y permanece estática para enfocarse en las expresiones que Isabella estaba a punto de realizar.

Fotos: Hotel The Wild Oscar. Casa Productora Polytropos. Productora Valeria Estefan. Director Luis Felipe Ferra. Cámara A Diego Vargas. Talento Isabella Maawad. Foto Julieta Hernández.

En la siguiente escena Natalia descorre la cortina de la habitación. En el monitor se puede apreciar que el plano es medium shot y la cámara permanece estática en posición level.

Foto: Hotel The Wild Oscar. Casa Productora Polytropos. Productora Valeria Estefan. Director Luis Felipe Ferra. Cámara A Diego Vargas. Talento Natalia Ricaud. Foto Julieta Hernández.

Wilde (1898) menciona que es el estilo lo que nos hace creer en las cosas; nada más que el estilo. Se llevó a cabo el uso de filtros para darle un toque contemporáneo, haciendo cada toma diferente a lo que se ve a diario en la publicidad. El manejo de estos filtros, si bien distorsionaba la imagen, en ningún momento se perdieron los rasgos del personaje y la historia podría seguirse contando sin mayor obstáculo.

Foto: Hotel The Wild Oscar. Casa Productora Polytropos. Productora Valeria Estefan. Director Luis Felipe Ferra. Cámara A Diego Vargas. Talento Natalia Ricaud. Foto Julieta Hernández.

Diego Vargas capturó esta escena, la fotografía es propia de la secuencia 7 en donde Natalia e Isabella beben capuccinos en el Restaurante Constance. El plano que se tomó fue un medium two shot , la cámara se encuentra en posición picada y se observan las acciones que realiza Isabella.

Foto: Hotel The Wild Oscar. Casa Productora Polytropos. Productora Valeria Estefan. Director Luis Felipe Ferra. Cámara A Diego Vargas. Talento Natalia Ricaud e Isabella Maawad. Foto Julieta Hernández.

Adair Calderón estuvo a cargo de las escenas de inserto, en la siguiente imagen se puede observar la posición de la cámara en picada, con un plano detalle de inserto de bebidas. Se hicieron dos tomas, para aprovechar la posición de las bebidas. En la primera toma la cámara y las bebidas permanecieron estáticas, mientras que en la segunda toma la cámara continuó estática y se hizo un movimiento de la bandeja, en donde estaban colocadas las bebidas, y que éstas se vieran que entraban en la toma.

Fotos: Hotel The Wild Oscar. Casa Productora Polytropos. Productora Valeria Estefan. Director Luis Felipe Ferra. Cámara B Adair Calderón, Foto Julieta Hernández.

La meticulosidad con la que se ejecutó toda la filmación hace referencia a lo que mencionó Wilde (1898), […] no se llega a la perfección sin la práctica. Toma tras toma para capturar la escena perfecta. No por nada la cita del llamado fue tan temprano. Pareciera que el equipo de Polytropos lo entendió a la perfección. Hay escenas que estéticamente son agradables a la vista, sin embargo, si no están relacionadas con lo que se quiere transmitir, éstas no servirán. Así que se filma otra escena que transmita el mensaje adecuado.

“La mayoría de nuestros retratistas actuales están condenados al olvido absoluto. Nunca pintan lo que ven. Pintan lo que el público ve, y el público nunca ve nada.” (Wilde, 1898) El público se empapa de lo que circula en los medios y se limita a observar lo que quiere y le conviene, sin embargo, falta conocer que se realiza un trabajo previo y estricto sobre cada filmación. El storytelling es el encargado de contar la historia perfecta que el target quiera observar e incluso llegar a idealizar.

Wilde (1898) comenta que en donde diferimos unos de otros es en lo puramente accidental: en el vestir, los modales, el tono de voz, las opiniones religiosas, la apariencia externa, las pequeñas manías, etcétera. En esta filmación se cuidó cada detalle, no se puede improvisar ya que en el guion es en donde están plasmadas las ideas que se tienen sobre el rodaje, historia que ésta vez se sitúa en el hotel The Wild Oscar.

Bibliografía

Wilde, O. (1898). La Decadencia de la Mentira: Un Comentario. Freeditorial.

Filmografía

Ferra, L. (Director). (2022). The Wild Oscar [Comercial] Ciudad de México. Estefan, V. (Productora) Casa Productora Cultural Polytropos AC.

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ifreakingloveroyals · 8 months ago

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Through the Years → Felipe VI of Spain (2,813/∞) 14 June 2022 | King Felipe VI presides over the celebration of the Chapter of the Royal Military Order of San Hermenegildo. Royal Monastery of San Lorenzo de El Escorial, in Madrid, Spain. The Royal and Military Order of San Hermenegildo, was instituted in 1814 by Fernando VII, at the proposal of the Council of War and Navy, to recognize the constancy in the military service to the officers of the Army. Since then, it was decreed the annual celebration of the Chapter of the Order, which currently has a biennial character in the Monastery of San Lorenzo de El Escorial for its link with San Hermenegildo, which keeps the main relic of the Saint, and for being the Royal Pantheon of all the Kings and Sovereigns of the Order. (Photo By Alejandro Martinez Velez/Europa Press via Getty Images)

#King Felipe VI #Spain #2022 #Alejandro Martinez Velez #Europa Press via Getty Images #through the years: Felipe

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felipeandletizia · 4 years ago

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On this occasion, in a very special way, for their contribution during the challenge of Covid-19, we recognize citizens for their example of personal commitment and social contribution.

Elena Ochoa, who acted as master of ceremony, read the biographies of the citizens who received the decorations of the Order of Civil Merit, which were:

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rightsinexile · 5 years ago

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Publications

“How and with what consequences are individuals fleeing the Syrian conflict to Lebanon given various legal, bureaucratic and social labels by humanitarian, state and local government actors? A wide array of labels are imposed; registered refugee, labourer, displaced, foreigner and others. This article argues that each of these modes of ordering has its own set of implications for what a Syrian may do, how her presence is understood by others in the community, and what type of rights and protections she may have access to.” - Modes of Ordering: Labelling, Classification and Categorization in Lebanon's Refugee Response. Maja Janmyr and Lama Mourad, Journal of Refugee Studies, 2018.

“The Special Rapporteur on the human rights of migrants, Felipe González Morales, conducted an official visit to Bosnia and Herzegovina from 24 September to 1 October 2019, at the invitation of the Council of Ministers of Bosnia and Herzegovina. The main objective of the visit was to assess existing laws, policies and practices in relation to migration governance in Bosnia and Herzegovina and their impact on the human rights of migrants of all categories, including asylum seekers and migrants in an irregular situation.” - Report of the Special Rapporteur on the human rights of migrants on his visit to Bosnia and Herzegovina. Felipe González Morales, Human Rights Council, 12 May 2020.

“The COVID-19 pandemic has magnified existing issues in the child migration context. It illuminates socio-economic challenges, laying bare deep-seated policy inequities and their devastating impact on the millions of children forced to leave their homes across the globe. But the pandemic, and the ensuing pause in some aspects of global migration management, also provides an opportunity to rethink the impact of forced migration practice on affected children.” - Child Repatriation in the Time of COVID-19. Jacqueline Bhabha and Vasileia Digidiki, Refugee Studies Centre, Oxford University, 5 June 2020.

“This report is motivated by recent changes in policy and practice in respect of immigration detention in South Africa, as well as legislative and jurisprudential development over the past few years. In broad terms, since 2013, shifts have occurred in the following areas: jurisprudence, legislation, practical barriers to accessing the asylum system, and information access regarding designation of places of detention.” - Monitoring Policy, Litigious and Legislative Shifts in Immigration Detention in South Africa. Wayne Ncube and Charné Tracey, Lawyers for Human Rights, May 2020.

“The number of refugees in need of protection has climbed to an all-time high, while at the same time, many countries have reduced their commitments to refugee resettlement. To meet these challenges, governments and civil-society groups in a growing number of countries have begun to explore refugee sponsorship (also called community or private sponsorship), either as a complement or alternative to traditional protection pathways. This MPI Europe policy brief takes stock of sponsorship programs worldwide.” - Refugee Sponsorship Programs: A Global State of Play and Opportunities for Investment. Lena Kainz, Migration Policy Institute, 2019.

“This fact sheet provides an overview of the asylum system in the United States, including how asylum is defined, eligibility requirements, and the application process.” - Asylum in the United States, American Immigration Council, 11 July 2020.

“This article analyses the international migrations and statuses of people who left Syria after the outbreak of the civil war. In addition to exploring the dynamics of Syrian refugee migrations since 2011, we also discuss future prospects and possibilities of return.” - Syrian Refugee Migration, Transitions in Migrant Statuses and Future Scenarios of Syrian Mobility. Hariz Halilovich, Refugee Survey Quarterly, 2020.

“The fourth volume of Refugee Review, an open access, multidisciplinary, multimedia, and peer-reviewed journal of the ESPMI Network. The journal features varied and challenging articles, opinion pieces and practitioner reports from emerging scholars and practitioners around the world.” - Emerging Issues in Forced Migration - Perspectives from Research and Practice. Refugee Review, 1 May 2020.

“As the corona virus sweeps rapidly across the globe, it is undoubtedly having immense psychological impacts on communities. There are legitimate concerns that an epidemic of mental illness could actually occur in the midst of the current environment.” - Mental health and psychological well-being during COVID-19 pandemic: the invisible elephant in the room. Akaninyene Otu, Carlo Handy Charles and Sanni Yaya, International Journal of Mental Health Systems, 2020.

“Parents are an essential source of constancy and support, and effectively promote children’s resilience even in adversity. To build on this potential, however, more information is needed about the realities of refugee parents in situations of extreme adversity such as war and displacement.” - Parental suffering and resilience among recently displaced Syrian refugees in Lebanon. Bree Akesson and Cindy Sousa, Journal of Child and Family Studies, 30 November 2019.

“Around the world, the COVID-19 pandemic has created dramatic new levels of humanitarian need. Marginalized groups—including the world’s more than 70 million forcibly displaced people—are being particularly hard hit. For Venezuelan refugees and migrants in Colombia, the pandemic has hardened barriers to social and economic integration.” - Searching for Home: How COVID-19 threatens progress for Venezuelan integration in Columbia. Daphne Panayotatos and Rachel Schmidtke, Refugees International, 26 May 2020.

“Canada has been one of the world’s top destinations for immigrants, and this year was supposed to be no exception. However, concerns about the spread of COVID-19 led Canada to implement travel restrictions that for all intents and purposes shutdown immigration. Amid ongoing border restrictions, travel-related health fears, and the global economic downturn, we expect immigration levels to be down sharply in 2020.” COVID-19 derails Canadian immigration. Andrew Agopsowicz, RBC Economics, 29 May 2020.

“The Pacific Islands are a group of 20 small island developing nations scattered across the Pacific Ocean that are especially vulnerable to large-scale disasters, such as cyclones. In 2020, the Pacific Islands had to face a new challenge: weathering a Category 5 cyclone, the highest measurement on the cyclone intensity scale, while facing the paralyzing conditions and economic uncertainty brought on by the COVID-19 pandemic.” - A New Vulnerability: COVID-19 and tropical cyclone Harold create the perfect storm in the Pacific. Refugees International, Kayly Ober and Stefan Bakumenko, 3 June 2020.

“This Impact Report pulls together and synthesises the information we have collated to date on the impact of COVID-19 on stateless persons and those whose nationality is under threat around the world.” - Statelessness in a global pandemic. Institute on Statelessness and Inclusion, June 2020.

“This article discusses the challenges of conducting interviews about human rights matters with refugees and displaced people. It examines aspects of the practice of conducting interviews, particularly the ethical, psychosocial and cultural in which these issues might be approached. The article aims to be of particular value to emerging scholars and practitioners familiar with the principles of research methods but with less practical experience of conducting interviews with refugees and displaced people.” - Refugee Testimony and Human Rights Advocacy: The challenges of interviewing refugees in the field Matt Oliver Kinsella, Refugee Review Emerging Issues in Forced Migration, 2020.

“This collection and review of evidence aims to illustrate how the COVID-19 crisis triggers disproportionate risks and barriers for men, women, boys and girls with disabilities living in humanitarian settings. It highlights recommendations for humanitarian actors, to enhance inclusive action, aligned with existing guidance and learnings on disability inclusion.” - COVID-19 in humanitarian contexts: no excuses to leave persons with disabilities behind. Humanity and Inclusion, June 2020.

“IDMC’s Global Report on Internal Displacement is the official repository of data and analysis on internal displacement. This year's GRID breaks down data by conflict, violence and disasters across 145 countries. This edition looks at policy and operational practice from across the world and shows what is being done by countries to prevent, respond to and resolve internal displacement.” - Global Report on Internal Displacement 2020. Internal Displacement Monitoring Centre, 2020.

“Statistics on asylum matters have become a central part of political debate in Europe in recent years, in particular, statistics on protection rates or recognition rates – the percentage of the people seeking asylum who are recognised (or declared) to be entitled to international protection – are often used in arguments about the reasons for migration and the appropriate policy responses. ECRE has analysed the use of asylum statistics and has also contributed the gathering and dissemination of asylum statistics through its Asylum Information Database (AIDA). Here, ECRE sounds a note of caution in regard to the presentation and use of statistics.” - Asylum statistics in Europe: Briefing. European Council on Refugees and Exiles, 2019.

“The EU has (re)-built the so-called Libyan Coast Guard by financing, equipping, training and politically legitimizing them. Despite the fact that the Libyan Coast Guard is effectively a militia with documented involvement in systemic human rights violations and human smuggling, EU institutions and Member States provide technical, logistical, and political support, and often even direct operational coordination.” - The EU-Libya collaboration in mass interceptions of migrants in the Central Mediterranean. Remote Control, 17 June 2020.

“From 2015 intensification of the Syrian conflict, the number of asylum applications significantly increased in the EU Member States. This situation has led to political tensions in and between some countries – particularly those on the "front line" such as Greece and Italy – regarding the suitable responses in terms of reception and integration of exiled persons. How have national asylum systems in Europe adapted? Is the reaction of the European institutions – in a fragmented Union on the issue of asylum – appropriate? What evolution of asylum policies in European countries since 2015?. European Insights, June 2020.

“FRA’s Fundamental Rights Report 2020 reviews major developments in the field, identifying both achievements and remaining areas of concern. This publication presents FRA’s opinions on the main developments in the thematic areas covered, and a synopsis of the evidence supporting these opinions. In so doing, it provides a compact but informative overview of the main fundamental rights challenges confronting the EU and its Member States.” - Fundamental Rights Report. European Union Agency for Fundamental Rights, 2020.

“The EMN Annual Report provides a comprehensive overview of the migration and asylum situation and developments in the EU (Member) States as well as statistical data for the year 2019, which were available at the time of the publication of the report.” - Annual Report on Migration and Asylum 2019. European Migration Network, June 2020.

“The UK Home Office’s Asylum Policy Instruction on Asylum Interviews (Asylum Policy Instruction) provides guidance to Home Office caseworkers on how to conduct asylum interviews and obtain information to establish whether or not protection should be granted. Despite this guidance, independent inspection bodies and other organisations working directly with asylum claimants have expressed significant concerns over many years about the quality of asylum interviews, highlighting the link between poor quality interviews and flawed, unsustainable decisions.” - How the Home Office fails survivors of torture at the asylum interview. Freedom from Torture, 2020.

“As of June 2020 the world is well into a global health crisis, with over 5 million COVID-19 cases worldwide and over 330,000 related deaths. There remains great uncertainty about what comes next. We do not know how many people will be infected or how long the pandemic will last. However, we do know that those who are most marginalized will be disproportionately impacted by the pandemic, including members of the LGBTQI community” - The Impact of COVID-19 on displaced LGBTQI persons. Paul Dillane and Kimahli Powell, Rainbow Railroad, June 2020.

#refugee #asylum #asylum seeker

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acapulcopress · 5 years ago

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Yalitza y Zendaya entre los 819 invitados a la Academia

] LOS ÁNGELES. * 30 de junio de 2020. | AP. Yalitza Aparicio, Eva Longoria, Ana de Armas, Zendaya y Awkwafina son algunas de las 819 personas invitadas a la Academia de las Artes y Ciencias Cinematográficas. La organización que otorga los Oscar anunció a los nuevos invitados el martes. De aceptar, como lo hace la mayoría, esta nueva generación tendrá privilegios para votar para la próxima entrega de los Oscar. La enorme lista de 2020 incluye una gran variedad de personas de todos los sectores del a industria, de actores a publicistas y diseñadores de vestuario. Otros de los invitados son Yul Vázquez (“Gringo”), Cynthia Erivo (“Harriet”), John David Washington (“BlacKkKlansman”, Brian Tyree Henry (“If Beale Street Could Talk”), Florence Pugh (“Little Women”), Lakeith Stanfield (“Sorry to Bother You”), Beanie Feldstein (“Booksmart”) y Constance Wu (“Crazy Rich Asians”). Así como los directores Lulu Wang (“The Farewell”), Ari Aster (“Midsommar”), Terence Davies (“The House of Mirth”) y Matthew Vaughn (“Layer Cake”). Entre los directores latinos fueron invitados el español Icíar Bolláin (“También la lluvia”), los mexicanos Felipe Cazals (“Canoa”) y Luis Estrada (“La dictadura perfecta”), el ecuatoriano Sebastián Cordero (“Europa Report”) y el chileno Andrés Wood (“Araña”). De igual manera fueron invitados los documentalistas latinos Violeta Ayala (“Cocaine Prison”), Julia Bacha (“Naila and the Uprising”), Almudena Carracedo (“El silencio de otros”), Paz Encina (“Hamaca Paraguaya”), Marta Rodríguez (“Campesinos”) e Iván Osnovikoff y Bettina Perut de “Los Reyes”. Algunos de los actores de la ganadora del Oscar a mejor película de este año “Parasite” (“Parásitos”) incluyendo a Jang Hye-Jin, Jo Yeo-Jeong, Park So-Dam y Lee Jung-Eun, fueron invitados. La Academia dijo que 49% de los nuevos invitados son internacionales y representan a unos 68 países. Otros de los posibles miembros notables son el empresario de televisión Ryan Murphy, que produjo el documental “A Secret Love” (“Un amor secreto”), el cantante country Tim McGraw, quien actuó en “The Blind Side” (“Un sueño posible”), el compositor Aturo Sandoval (“Richard Jewell”) y el letrista Bernie Taupin quien contribuyó a la cinta biográfica de Elton John “Rocketman”. El presidente de la Academia, David Rubin, dijo que la organización está “encantada de dar la bienvenida a estos distinguidos colegas viajeros en las artes y ciencias cinematográficas”. Diversificar las filas de la Academia sigue siendo una de sus principales prioridades. En 2016 la organización se comprometió a duplicar su membresía femenina y de minorías para este año. Desde entonces ha superado esas metas y sigue presentando nuevas generaciones de miembros con mujeres y grupos subrepresentados. Las mujeres constituyen el 45% de la generación 2020 mientras que un 36% de los invitados son personas de color. La academia anunció también un plan de cinco años que incluye la implementación de estándares de inclusión para los nominados. “Esperamos seguir fomentando una Academia que refleje el mundo alrededor de nosotros en su membresía, nuestros programas, nuestro nuevo museo y en nuestros premios”, dijo la directora general de la academia Dawn Hudson en un comunicado. Este será el primer año que los agentes de talento miembros de la academia puedan votar para los premios. La 93a entrega de los Premios de la Academia se realizará el 25 de abril de 2021, dos meses después de lo originalmente planeado por los efectos de la pandemia de coronavirus en la industria. Read the full article

#PremiosOscar #AcademiadelasArtesyCienciasCinematográficas #YalitzaAparicio #EvaLongoria #AnadeArmas #Zendaya #Awkwafina

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upwardboundwriting · 8 years ago

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100 (Best) First Lines of Novels

1. Call me Ishmael. —Herman Melville, Moby-Dick (1851)

2. It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife. —Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice (1813)

3. A screaming comes across the sky. —Thomas Pynchon, Gravity's Rainbow (1973)

4. Many years later, as he faced the firing squad, Colonel Aureliano Buendía was to remember that distant afternoon when his father took him to discover ice. —Gabriel García Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude (1967; trans. Gregory Rabassa)

5. Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. —Vladimir Nabokov, Lolita (1955)

6. Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way. —Leo Tolstoy, Anna Karenina (1877; trans. Constance Garnett)

7. riverrun, past Eve and Adam's, from swerve of shore to bend of bay, brings us by a commodius vicus of recirculation back to Howth Castle and Environs. —James Joyce, Finnegans Wake (1939)

8. It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen. —George Orwell, 1984 (1949)

9. It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair. —Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities (1859)

10. I am an invisible man. —Ralph Ellison, Invisible Man (1952)

11. The Miss Lonelyhearts of the New York Post-Dispatch (Are you in trouble?—Do-you-need-advice?—Write-to-Miss-Lonelyhearts-and-she-will-help-you) sat at his desk and stared at a piece of white cardboard. —Nathanael West, Miss Lonelyhearts (1933)

12. You don't know about me without you have read a book by the name of The Adventures of Tom Sawyer; but that ain't no matter. —Mark Twain, Adventures of Huckleberry Finn (1885)

13. Someone must have slandered Josef K., for one morning, without having done anything truly wrong, he was arrested. —Franz Kafka, The Trial (1925; trans. Breon Mitchell)

14. You are about to begin reading Italo Calvino's new novel, If on a winter's night a traveler. —Italo Calvino, If on a winter's night a traveler (1979; trans. William Weaver)

15. The sun shone, having no alternative, on the nothing new. —Samuel Beckett, Murphy (1938)

16. If you really want to hear about it, the first thing you'll probably want to know is where I was born, and what my lousy childhood was like, and how my parents were occupied and all before they had me, and all that David Copperfield kind of crap, but I don't feel like going into it, if you want to know the truth. —J. D. Salinger, The Catcher in the Rye (1951)

17. Once upon a time and a very good time it was there was a moocow coming down along the road and this moocow that was coming down along the road met a nicens little boy named baby tuckoo. —James Joyce, A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man (1916)

18. This is the saddest story I have ever heard. —Ford Madox Ford, The Good Soldier (1915)

19. I wish either my father or my mother, or indeed both of them, as they were in duty both equally bound to it, had minded what they were about when they begot me; had they duly considered how much depended upon what they were then doing;—that not only the production of a rational Being was concerned in it, but that possibly the happy formation and temperature of his body, perhaps his genius and the very cast of his mind;—and, for aught they knew to the contrary, even the fortunes of his whole house might take their turn from the humours and dispositions which were then uppermost:—Had they duly weighed and considered all this, and proceeded accordingly,—I am verily persuaded I should have made a quite different figure in the world, from that, in which the reader is likely to see me. —Laurence Sterne, Tristram Shandy (1759–1767)

20. Whether I shall turn out to be the hero of my own life, or whether that station will be held by anybody else, these pages must show. —Charles Dickens, David Copperfield (1850)

21. Stately, plump Buck Mulligan came from the stairhead, bearing a bowl of lather on which a mirror and a razor lay crossed. —James Joyce, Ulysses (1922)

22. It was a dark and stormy night; the rain fell in torrents, except at occasional intervals, when it was checked by a violent gust of wind which swept up the streets (for it is in London that our scene lies), rattling along the house-tops, and fiercely agitating the scanty flame of the lamps that struggled against the darkness. —Edward George Bulwer-Lytton, Paul Clifford (1830)

23. One summer afternoon Mrs. Oedipa Maas came home from a Tupperware party whose hostess had put perhaps too much kirsch in the fondue to find that she, Oedipa, had been named executor, or she supposed executrix, of the estate of one Pierce Inverarity, a California real estate mogul who had once lost two million dollars in his spare time but still had assets numerous and tangled enough to make the job of sorting it all out more than honorary. —Thomas Pynchon, The Crying of Lot 49 (1966)

24. It was a wrong number that started it, the telephone ringing three times in the dead of night, and the voice on the other end asking for someone he was not. —Paul Auster, City of Glass (1985)

25. Through the fence, between the curling flower spaces, I could see them hitting. —William Faulkner, The Sound and the Fury (1929)

26. 124 was spiteful. —Toni Morrison, Beloved (1987)

27. Somewhere in la Mancha, in a place whose name I do not care to remember, a gentleman lived not long ago, one of those who has a lance and ancient shield on a shelf and keeps a skinny nag and a greyhound for racing. —Miguel de Cervantes, Don Quixote (1605; trans. Edith Grossman)

28. Mother died today. —Albert Camus, The Stranger (1942; trans. Stuart Gilbert)

29. Every summer Lin Kong returned to Goose Village to divorce his wife, Shuyu. —Ha Jin, Waiting (1999)

30. The sky above the port was the color of television, tuned to a dead channel. —William Gibson, Neuromancer (1984)

31. I am a sick man . . . I am a spiteful man. —Fyodor Dostoyevsky, Notes from Underground (1864; trans. Michael R. Katz)

32. Where now? Who now? When now? —Samuel Beckett, The Unnamable (1953; trans. Patrick Bowles)

33. Once an angry man dragged his father along the ground through his own orchard. "Stop!" cried the groaning old man at last, "Stop! I did not drag my father beyond this tree." —Gertrude Stein, The Making of Americans (1925)

35. It was like so, but wasn't. —Richard Powers, Galatea 2.2 (1995)

36. —Money . . . in a voice that rustled. —William Gaddis, J R (1975)

37. Mrs. Dalloway said she would buy the flowers herself. —Virginia Woolf, Mrs. Dalloway (1925)

38. All this happened, more or less. —Kurt Vonnegut, Slaughterhouse-Five (1969)

39. They shoot the white girl first. —Toni Morrison, Paradise (1998)

40. For a long time, I went to bed early. —Marcel Proust, Swann's Way (1913; trans. Lydia Davis)

41. The moment one learns English, complications set in. —Felipe Alfau, Chromos (1990)

42. Dr. Weiss, at forty, knew that her life had been ruined by literature. —Anita Brookner, The Debut (1981)

43. I was the shadow of the waxwing slain / By the false azure in the windowpane; —Vladimir Nabokov, Pale Fire (1962)

44. Ships at a distance have every man's wish on board. —Zora Neale Hurston, Their Eyes Were Watching God (1937)

45. I had the story, bit by bit, from various people, and, as generally happens in such cases, each time it was a different story. —Edith Wharton, Ethan Frome (1911)

46. Ages ago, Alex, Allen and Alva arrived at Antibes, and Alva allowing all, allowing anyone, against Alex's admonition, against Allen's angry assertion: another African amusement . . . anyhow, as all argued, an awesome African army assembled and arduously advanced against an African anthill, assiduously annihilating ant after ant, and afterward, Alex astonishingly accuses Albert as also accepting Africa's antipodal ant annexation. —Walter Abish, Alphabetical Africa (1974)

48. He was an old man who fished alone in a skiff in the Gulf Stream and he had gone eighty-four days now without taking a fish. —Ernest Hemingway, The Old Man and the Sea (1952)

49. It was the day my grandmother exploded. —Iain M. Banks, The Crow Road (1992)

50. I was born twice: first, as a baby girl, on a remarkably smogless Detroit day in January of 1960; and then again, as a teenage boy, in an emergency room near Petoskey, Michigan, in August of 1974. —Jeffrey Eugenides, Middlesex (2002)

51. Elmer Gantry was drunk. —Sinclair Lewis, Elmer Gantry (1927)

52. We started dying before the snow, and like the snow, we continued to fall. —Louise Erdrich, Tracks (1988)

53. It was a pleasure to burn. —Ray Bradbury, Fahrenheit 451 (1953)

54. A story has no beginning or end; arbitrarily one chooses that moment of experience from which to look back or from which to look ahead. —Graham Greene, The End of the Affair (1951)

55. Having placed in my mouth sufficient bread for three minutes' chewing, I withdrew my powers of sensual perception and retired into the privacy of my mind, my eyes and face assuming a vacant and preoccupied expression. —Flann O'Brien, At Swim-Two-Birds (1939)

59. It was love at first sight. —Joseph Heller, Catch-22 (1961)

61. I have never begun a novel with more misgiving. —W. Somerset Maugham, The Razor's Edge (1944)

62. Once upon a time, there was a woman who discovered she had turned into the wrong person. —Anne Tyler, Back When We Were Grownups (2001)

63. The human race, to which so many of my readers belong, has been playing at children's games from the beginning, and will probably do it till the end, which is a nuisance for the few people who grow up. —G. K. Chesterton, The Napoleon of Notting Hill (1904)

64. In my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice that I've been turning over in my mind ever since. —F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby (1925)

65. You better not never tell nobody but God. —Alice Walker, The Color Purple (1982)

66. "To be born again," sang Gibreel Farishta tumbling from the heavens, "first you have to die." —Salman Rushdie, The Satanic Verses (1988)

67. It was a queer, sultry summer, the summer they electrocuted the Rosenbergs, and I didn't know what I was doing in New York. —Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar (1963)

68. Most really pretty girls have pretty ugly feet, and so does Mindy Metalman, Lenore notices, all of a sudden. —David Foster Wallace, The Broom of the System (1987)

69. If I am out of my mind, it's all right with me, thought Moses Herzog. —Saul Bellow, Herzog (1964)

70. Francis Marion Tarwater's uncle had been dead for only half a day when the boy got too drunk to finish digging his grave and a Negro named Buford Munson, who had come to get a jug filled, had to finish it and drag the body from the breakfast table where it was still sitting and bury it in a decent and Christian way, with the sign of its Saviour at the head of the grave and enough dirt on top to keep the dogs from digging it up. —Flannery O'Connor, The Violent Bear it Away (1960)

71. Granted: I am an inmate of a mental hospital; my keeper is watching me, he never lets me out of his sight; there's a peephole in the door, and my keeper's eye is the shade of brown that can never see through a blue-eyed type like me. —Gunter Grass, The Tin Drum (1959; trans. Ralph Manheim)

72. When Dick Gibson was a little boy he was not Dick Gibson. —Stanley Elkin, The Dick Gibson Show (1971)

74. She waited, Kate Croy, for her father to come in, but he kept her unconscionably, and there were moments at which she showed herself, in the glass over the mantel, a face positively pale with the irritation that had brought her to the point of going away without sight of him. —Henry James, The Wings of the Dove (1902)

75. In the late summer of that year we lived in a house in a village that looked across the river and the plain to the mountains. —Ernest Hemingway, A Farewell to Arms (1929)

77. He was an inch, perhaps two, under six feet, powerfully built, and he advanced straight at you with a slight stoop of the shoulders, head forward, and a fixed from-under stare which made you think of a charging bull. —Joseph Conrad, Lord Jim (1900)

78. The past is a foreign country; they do things differently there. —L. P. Hartley, The Go-Between (1953)

80. Justice?—You get justice in the next world, in this world you have the law. —William Gaddis, A Frolic of His Own (1994)

81. Vaughan died yesterday in his last car-crash. —J. G. Ballard, Crash (1973)

82. I write this sitting in the kitchen sink. —Dodie Smith, I Capture the Castle (1948)

83. "When your mama was the geek, my dreamlets," Papa would say, "she made the nipping off of noggins such a crystal mystery that the hens themselves yearned toward her, waltzing around her, hypnotized with longing." —Katherine Dunn, Geek Love (1983)

86. It was just noon that Sunday morning when the sheriff reached the jail with Lucas Beauchamp though the whole town (the whole county too for that matter) had known since the night before that Lucas had killed a white man. —William Faulkner, Intruder in the Dust (1948)

89. I am an American, Chicago born—Chicago, that somber city—and go at things as I have taught myself, free-style, and will make the record in my own way: first to knock, first admitted; sometimes an innocent knock, sometimes a not so innocent. —Saul Bellow, The Adventures of Augie March (1953)

90. The towers of Zenith aspired above the morning mist; austere towers of steel and cement and limestone, sturdy as cliffs and delicate as silver rods. —Sinclair Lewis, Babbitt (1922)

91. I will tell you in a few words who I am: lover of the hummingbird that darts to the flower beyond the rotted sill where my feet are propped; lover of bright needlepoint and the bright stitching fingers of humorless old ladies bent to their sweet and infamous designs; lover of parasols made from the same puffy stuff as a young girl's underdrawers; still lover of that small naval boat which somehow survived the distressing years of my life between her decks or in her pilothouse; and also lover of poor dear black Sonny, my mess boy, fellow victim and confidant, and of my wife and child. But most of all, lover of my harmless and sanguine self. —John Hawkes, Second Skin (1964)

92. He was born with a gift of laughter and a sense that the world was mad. —Raphael Sabatini, Scaramouche (1921)

94. In the town, there were two mutes and they were always together. —Carson McCullers, The Heart is a Lonely Hunter (1940)

96. Time is not a line but a dimension, like the dimensions of space. —Margaret Atwood, Cat's Eye (1988)

99. They say when trouble comes close ranks, and so the white people did. —Jean Rhys, Wide Sargasso Sea (1966)

100. The cold passed reluctantly from the earth, and the retiring fogs revealed an army stretched out on the hills, resting. —Stephen Crane, The Red Badge of Courage (1895)

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alexandersimonmartinezstyle · 7 years ago

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Diadora, back the B. Elite sneakers loved in the 80s

To present the P / E 2018 collection, the sports brand, which this year celebrates its 70th anniversary, has involved young and talented artists and influencers Passion, authenticity, audacity. These are the values that represent the “crew” made up of interesting and promising young creative talents of the moment, chosen by the Diadora brand for the new Powered by Defiance campaign. Joan Thiele, Federica Abbate, Felipe Conceicão, Valentina Pegorer, Jack Saunders, Yxng Bane, all under 25, are the protagonists of the new project born to tell the spirit of the collection for spring/summer 2018; a group that reflects the values of the brand as the desire to get involved, the dynamism, the tenacity, the adventurous spirit and the optimistic gaze towards the future. All the guys were proud to wear the iconic sports models of the legends of the past that today come back to the fore in a modern way to interpret the latest trends in street fashion. Among these, the most loved shoe among those signed Diadora: the B. Elite, once worn by the most famous tennis players of all time and today at the feet of new generations. The model retains the shape that made it famous, but returns to office with new colors and options in the B.Elite L. As for the clothing items, the proposal is really wide and very cool. The streetstyle collection in fact is inspired by the ’80s, back in fashion in style, and offers garments like the track jacket or the polycotton overalls revisited and characterized by truly captivating colors and details. The retro style of the past glories of tennis merge with research and stylistic innovation to create a truly original and exciting collection that has also won the protagonists of the POWERED BY DEFIANCE project. We met some of them to get to know them better. Valentina Pegorer – Born in 1990 in Milan, she is fascinated by dancing, television and acting since she was a child. After having participated in several advertisements as a child, she worked at Deejay TV and joined Claudio Bisio and Frank Matano in “The Comedians”. The fame comes, however, thanks to Beijing Express where in 2017 wins in pairs with Ema Stokholma. She would like to conduct new types of programs in the future to be able to “modernize” today’s TV. What do you like most about Milan? In Italy, in my opinion, it is the most projected city in the future and unlike London, where I lived for a while, it is less confusing. My favorite places are The Prada Foundation, the Bicocca Hangar and the Apollo Club. What relationship do you have with social networks? I follow them directly and I like to post photos, but only when I feel like it. I do not have to feel it as an obligation. Are you a sportswoman? I practice yoga, climbing and I love running. With the dance I was confronted during the participation in the program “Dance Dance Dance 2” and this experience has shaped me a lot. Above all, he taught me the value of constancy. Even when I do not practice sport I love being comfortable and almost always wearing sneakers. I have a lot of them and my favorites are those high and bright colors. Jack Saunders – London, began his radio tour with Fly FM, the student radio of Nottingham Trent University. In the summer of 2014 he joined Kerrang! Radio then moved to Radio X in 2015. Every month he organizes an evening of music called Hopscotch and invites some of the most interesting emerging bands to perform at The Social, in central London. The event has attracted the attention of prestigious magazines such as The Times, Guardian and Music Week and is fast becoming a highlight for new bands in search of visibility. In 2017, Jack collaborated with MTV and presented the UK Blog Awards. Your biggest satisfaction? Having brought several youth bands to the fore. Their success makes me really happy. What are your artistic dreams? I would like to become one of the greatest talent discoverers internationally. At the moment I’m not interested in becoming a record producer, I just want to hunt for talent. The dive city would you like to live? I would like to live in Australia in the future. Where the environment, from the radio point of view, is similar to that of England, but the climate is quite another thing. London is really too messed up! What types of garments do you prefer to wear? I love the leaders of the English street culture of the 90s. In particular, the jackets with zip as the track jacket by Diadora, a cult among the boys of the time that in recent years is back in fashion. Felipe Conceicão – Genoese Vlogger, is one of the emerging stars of video production in Italy. Passionate about music and computer science from an early age, he makes the first video at 17 and is noticed thanks to Youtube. Among his latest works, the direction of the video clip “New generation kids” by Luca Cikovani, photography of the latest video of Benji and Faith “Love Wii-fi” and that of Leo Stannard feat. Chiara Galiazzo “Gravity”. What relationship do you have with sport? I’m not a very sporty type even though I find it important to dedicate time to one’s physical well-being as well as one’s own passions and intellect activities. On the other hand, my favorite style is sportswear. Do you love to travel? Where would you like to live? I like traveling the world but do not leave for short trips. I like to stay in a place to really understand the culture, the customs and the way of thinking of the people who live there. Currently I moved from Genoa to Milan but one day I would like to live in Los Angeles. What are your future goals? I would like to become a successful director and give life to science fiction films or TV series that intertwine with the real world. Yxng Bane – British rapper, grew up in Custom House, a district in the London borough of Newham. At 19 he is noted with the piece “Lone Wolf” published on Soundcloud. After collaborating with Yungen for “Bestie”, he launches “Fine Wine” feat. Kojo Funds and part for a long tour that sold out in different locations, including Dubai and Ibiza. With “Rihanna” he enters the top 40 of the United Kingdom last year and gets great visibility. Ed Sheeran complimented his cover of “Shape of you” which has depopulated on the web and currently has 16 million views. Have you always wanted to sing? In my family, music has always occupied an important place. At the beginning I only had fun doing remixes and only two years ago I discovered a passion for singing. Are you hyper-connected? Do you personally follow your social profiles? Before making music the social world did not interest me in the least, then I was forced to use the various Facebook, Instagram, etc .. to give visibility to my work and now I have a manager who takes care of it. But I have a good relationship with my followers and I’m happy to tell me about them. Are you a sporty type? What are your favorite items? Years ago I played football and basketball, now I do a lot less sport but I’m always on the move. I love the suits and for the Diadora campaign I chose to wear the track jacket with white and black zip with gold logo. A perfect match with my golden necklaces. Article taken from https://www.gqitalia.it/moda/trend/new/2018/03/20/diadora-tornano-le-sneakers-b-elite-amate-negli-anni-80/#!#%2Ffullscreen%2F0%2F1%2F

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