#c: advisor mackenzie

[succiducus]

{uraz kaygılaroğlu, 34, agender, he/they/she} We are so glad to see you safe, ADVISOR ABDULLAH MACKENZIE of SCOTLAND! It’s dangerous out in the world these days, but I hear that you are CALCULATIVE and DEDICATED enough to handle it. Just don’t let your RECKLESSNESS bring you down! Stay on your guard, because with your secret being at risk for exposure, you wouldn’t want everyone to find out after the reckoning your heart is no longer in the rebellion.

b a s i c s //

birth name: murat abdullah mackenzie

nickname: abby

birthday: march 31st (aries)

occupation: royal advisor to the stuarts

orientation: demi-romantic / pansexual

status: single-ish

languages: english, scottish gaelic (native). persian, hindi, japanese (fluent). german, amharic, sanskrit (conversational).

character influences: brian kinney (queer as folk), link & ganondorf (tloz), aragorn (lotr), indra (the 100), uchiha madara (naruto).

tarot card: strength

p r o l o g u e //

crooked by nature, they have always had a knack for manipulation and persuasion - nurture worsened it. selfish; power-hungry; proud; a perfect canvas for the pursuits of the family that they'd been adopted into and admittedly for their own gain. freedom granted them invisibility and they remain clutched onto that to this day. they've slipped into and out of many empires, left impacts, bought loyalties but as chaotic as they are, they're not simpleminded. they make calculative decisions and take well thought out actions for the gain of themselves and the mackenzies. prepared, intuitive, controlled - sometimes they seem outwardly unapproachable, they led their army with a strong hand, charm their way through awkward situations, and work hard regardless of their reasonings for doing so. they have two faces and only those loyal to the mackenzies know which one is real. they will stop at nothing to attain what they want.

a c t i : l a l q i l a //

The Mughal Empire had always been, to him, a means to an end. After his discharge from the Scottish military, being reassigned to a new empire to help aid the rebellion in any way that he could, he thought that settling in Delhi was temporary, that he would not grow attached to the people, sights, and sounds that surrounded him on a daily basis, however, that was far from the case. Assuming a new identity, working his way through the ranks of their military, making connections and friendships (even if surface level), and getting acquainted with a culture that his birth parents had fallen in love with after leaving Scotland wasn't supposed to leave a mark on him, but it did. The Grand Memoriam; reconnecting with Cailean and his sisters; hearing the loud accents of the Scottish court in the dining hall; followed shortly by invasions, political fights, chaos, and watching his heart face death once more pushed Abdullah from a state of clarity into one of complete and utter exhaustion. He decided to resign from his position as commander, swear fealty to Claire Stuart, and return home. The Reckoning shook him far beyond exhaustion; it cemented his love for the empire in his heart.

t i m e s k i p //

Grief was not new to Abdullah. He had been mourning Scotland and his place within it for years before The Reckoning took the rulers of the Mughal Empire from him. However, the loss struck him harder than he thought it might. Grown accustomed to serving them, to his every thought encompassing their safety and safety of their empire, suddenly being without all of it made guilt trickle into the space between his ribs. He struggled with this for the majority of their journey home, tried his best to smile when he was supposed to smile; one might say that his years of pretending came in handy when asked if he was glad to be home by fellow clansmen and their family friends. It was interesting, he supposed, how being back on the moors of Scotland didn't remove the sting of having to leave India behind. With news of it's descent into chaos reaching him, the guilt of leaving it defenceless when he did, lingered. But, somewhere between training with his mother in the halls of Castle Stuart and sliding into bed next to the youngest Fergusson, his grief disappeared and was replaced by a warmth that was often threatened by the thought of what those he cared about most were doing behind the scenes. You see, even with the new reign among them, the rebels that he had once proudly stood with were strong, perhaps, even stronger than ever, and in the land under Stuart reign, whether by one monarch or by four, rebels careless enough to get caught were hung. Once a thought that made him chuckle, the reality of losing those he cared about to something they could choose to refrain from started to make him weary.

p r e s e n t d a y //

Exhausted by his days in the military and the monotony of daily life now that he's back home, when the opportunity to put his mind to use once more approached him, he took it. From Mughal Commander to Royal Advisor, Abdullah is settling into his position comfortably while still training under his mother's guidances to become Duke after her retirement - the most prominent issue? He's starting to see each Stuart as people and not monarchs, an issue for the once rebel still lurking under the surface. For now, he's keeping up appearances for the sake of his parents and lover, however, he's come to the realization that the exhaustion from years of pretending is finally catching up with him and if he had to be honest? He simply wished to wake up to the sun illuminating red hair, the loud purr of Mor, and the smell of grass fluttering in through the open window of their bedroom. He supposed, being so close to love and it's beauty had made him soft - he could no longer stomach the rebellion and what it had the potential to take from him.

c o n n e c t i o n s //

cordelia mackenzie (sister) - to be written

karolina mackenzie (sister) - to be written

cailean fergusson (soul-mate) - they have been caught in a dance of cat and mouse for decades, unable to shed their emotional attachment to one another. they fall apart, put distance between themselves, however the universe brings them back together, often stronger than the last time their souls tangled. once on the same side of the coin, they now faced the unique challenge of being on opposites. its led to countless arguments and skirting around the topic of the scottish monarchy yet underneath all of the anger and frustration, they make moves toward one another and for each other out of love, even if they cannot admit aloud quite yet.

[succiducus]

something changes within him. the tension sitting just above his diaphragm, wedged by his ribs and heart, disintegrates into a warming calmness. it feels as if the more cailean speaks to reciprocated emotion, the softer his spine becomes; the less weight his shoulders hold; his heart begins to sing where once there was longing and silence. vulnerable; gentle; easy-going; abdullah holds them close, his palm cradling the back of their head; with their cheek pressed so closely to his heart, it's pace quickens. they loved him. years of yearning, of playing cat and mouse, of wondering what he would have to do to build the courage to ask cailean if what intuition screamed at him was correct would no longer take up space in his mind. clarity finds him, a sort of giddy impatience settles into his bones with comprehension and wonder. at one point or another, he hadn't believed in this being their ending. much like cailean, abdullah too, had worried that their love was doomed. every time their skin touched or they found themselves wrapped up in ways only lovers were, he wondered if tiny moments at lagging intervals was all they would have together. somehow, he might've accepted it and moved forward, existing as only the best friend, as the man who walked between sword and flesh every time cailean was in danger, but holding them in such a manner now, knowing that his intuition had been right about their shared feelings, he starts to wonder if, perhaps, their love had never truly been doomed; perhaps, their love for one another was the driving force behind every time they survived situations most didn't.

"cailean," his voice deafens the comfortable silence between them as their embrace continues. "it's unnecessary, your apology. i have understood your reasonings for far longer than i have admitted to myself. after all you've experienced in the name of love, protecting it along with me. even at my expense, is how i might've reacted in your situation too..." nudging their ear with his nose, his arms tighten around them. "admittedly, i have worried in the same fashion - about what might happen if the enemies i have made in pursuit of overthrowing the stuarts catch wind of our love for one another." the advisor presses lips to crown. "however, i would." a goofy and love-sick grin overcomes him. "kiss you in front of the entire world, that is. on the condition that we stop this madness between us. i am...tired of fighting wars that do not need to be fought, especially between you and i. if the fact that we love one another is truth, that is all the matters to me. the world's knowledge of it is not a requirement. we can keep it safe between us for now until the world is not as scary as it has become. to ease your weary mind..." at arms length, he reluctantly pulls cailean away from him. "allow me to get dressed? i believe we have a butterfly-feline war to attend that will surely get us banned from ethiopia. permanently."

His words served as a battering ram, breaking through the walls they had so securely built around their heart ever since they heard the first whisper of Malcolm’s arrest. By the time they accepted that Malcolm wouldn’t be coming back home, the wall had become so strong they were certain nothing and no one would be able to break through it. Yet now, as they stood before Abdullah with tears streaming down their cheeks, they felt the first rays of sunshine peek through the cracks, warming the heart they had long given up on.

“Abby,” his name on their tongue felt like a secret prayer to a deity long forgotten. It felt sacred; it felt holy. Their step towards him was almost hesitant, guided by Abdullah, yet it only took a moment to wrap their arms around his neck and pull him closer. The embrace was not unlike the one they had shared mere moments ago, before Cailean’s entire world shifted with a simple confession. The room was the same, yet everything had changed.

“Ye’ve got it all wrong. Ye might think ye have to run after me and chase me to catch a glimpse of my love for ye, but it has been there all along, even if I have been too foolish to see it myself.” Every inch of their being screamed to run in the other direction. They were treading in dangerous territory, one they could not escape if they dared to continue. But it was too late. The floodgates had opened, and there was no way to stop the contents of their heart from pouring out. “My love for ye has always been there, mo chridhe. My love is not only there when either of us is sufferin’ or when ye are comin’ between me and death. It is always there. It’s there every time I see the morning dew because it reminds me of the night we stayed out until the early mornin’ simply because we couldn’t bear to say goodbye. It’s there when I wake up because yer damn breath keeps ticklin’ the back of my neck. It’s always there, and it has always been you and only you. I’m sorry it took me so long. I’m so sorry.”

Cailean rested their cheek against Abdullah’s shoulder, letting his warmth envelop them as they listened to his heartbeat. They had not kissed him, yet the simple gesture was more intimate than anything Cailean had ever experienced before. They held him, refusing to let go even as they laughed through their tears at the mention of Cordelia. “Aye, I would kiss ye in front of our family and the entire bloody world if ye would let me, especially if it would shock ‘delia. But would you?”

[westannatasharomanoff]

THG AU Chapter 27

Chapter 1        Chapter 2      Chapter 3     Chapter 4    Chapter 5    Chapter 6 Chapter 7   Chapter 8   Chapter 9  Chapter 10   Chapter 11 Chapter 12  Chapter 13 Chapter 14  Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17  Chapter 18 Chapter 19   Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22  Chapter 23   Chapter 24  Chapter 25 Chapter 26

*Natasha Romanoff was in The Capitol for an interview. She was now three months pregnant and everyone was buzzing about the baby. This interview was to announce the winners of the baby naming competition. The only thing keeping Natasha from being furious about not getting to name her own child was the fact that S.H.I.E.L.D. was going to stick it to The Capitol.*

Ceaser: I think we all know what we’re here for. Natasha, if you would open the envelope.

Natasha: Okay, Ceaser. Here goes nothing.

Ceaser: Can we get a drumroll please? *drumroll* Thank you.

Natasha: The winning name for a baby girl is Victoria, and if it’s a boy, the winner is... Triffle. *her face falls*

* Meanwhile in District 12, everyone is watching the interview together at Natasha and Bruce’s.*

Pietro: Triffle? *bursts out laughing* 

Fury: That poor child.

Maria: That’s unfortunate. 

Bruce: Triffle?! They want us to name our child Triffle?! That’s not even a name! 

Wanda: Evidently, it is in The Capitol. 

Melina: That’s okay. Triffle is a bit... odd, but we would love him anyway. Besides, Victoria is a very nice name. 

Alexei: Our poor grandson is going to be teased so much. 

Fury: Have you met this child’s parents? He’ll be fine. 

Bruce: For everyone’s sake I hope we have a girl. 

*A week later, Natasha and Bruce went to their first S.H.I.E.L.D. meeting. It was held in a hovercraft above the wilds.*

Peggy: I know we haven’t met in a while, but I assure you S.H.I.E.L.D. is as active as ever. We have three new agents today, so please give a warm welcome to Maria Hill, Bruce Banner, and Natasha Romanoff.

Grant: Wait, didn’t she just get married? Why does she still have her same last name?

Natasha: The Capitol already knows me well, so changing my name didn’t make much sense. 

Peggy: Why don’t we all just introduce ourselves? I’ll start. My name is Peggy Carter and I live in District 4. 

Phil: I’m Phil Coulson, I live in District 9.

Melinda: Melinda May,  District 2.

Lincoln: Lincoln Campbell, District 5. I know, shocking. 

Lance: Lance Hunter, District 2.

Thor: You guys know me. You also know Steve! *Steve waves*

Daisy: Daisy Johnson, I’m from 3. 

Bruce: Yeah, I’ve met you. You’re the new girl from coding. 

Daisy: That’s me. 

Tripp:  Antoine Triplett, but you can call me Tripp. I also live in District 3.

Grant: Grant Ward, from District 2. 

Jemma: Jemma Simmons. I live in District 3, but I invent medical devices so I’m always in The Capitol. 

Bobbi: Bobbi Morse, I’m also from District 2. Imagine that. 

Lance: She’s my wife. 

Leo: Leo Fitz. I’m from District 3, but we’ve met. 

Bruce: Yes, yes we have. 

Mack: Alphonso Mackenzie, District 6. You can call me Mack.

Daniel: I’m Daniel Sousa. I live in District 10 and I think that’s everyone, right?

Gamora: You forgot us. 

Daniel: Right, our friends from The Capitol.

Gamora: I’m Gamora Zen-Titan, as you may remember.

Mantis: Mantis Brandt-Snow. I’m so happy to be here!

Nebula: Nebula Lupho-Titan. *pointing at Gamora* I’m her sister. 

Peter: Peter Quill-Snow. *pointing at Mantis* I’m her sister. 

*Everyone goes silent and gives Peter an odd look. A few people stifle laughter. A moment later, Peter realizes his mistake.*

Peter: Wait, no! She’s my- *sigh* never mind. 

Bruce: Wait. Snow, Titan, I know those names! You let the children of the president and his closest advisor join a society to take them down? 

Peter: Our father is Snow’s brother, actually. 

Gamora: Not to mention none of us want anything to do with the corrupt and unfair system that is our government! The things going on in Panem just aren’t right, and anyone could see that no matter who their “family” is! Panem needs to enter a new era, and soon. 

Bruce: Fair enough, carry on. 

Loki: I’m Loki Odinson and *pointing to Thor* I’ve never met that man in my life. 

Natasha: Oh, are you two siblings?

Loki: No. I’ve seriously never met him. It’s a total coincidence that we have the same last name.

Thor: It’s actually kind of freaky, especially considering we look very similar.

Loki: For the last time, we do not look alike! At all! 

Peggy: Can we get back to business? 

Thor: Right, sorry. 

Peggy: Anyway, we need to take a few more people before we’re ready to start the next phase of our plan. *to Bruce and Natasha* That’s where you come in. We need to recruit Tony Stark, Wanda Maximoff, and Pietro Maximoff. Banner, you need to get Tony on board. Natasha, you will handle the Maximoffs. 

*Natasha and Bruce accepted their assignment and the rest of the meeting went pretty well. After the meeting, Bruce was snuck to District 3 so he could talk to Tony. He encased them in the secret bubble.*

Tony: Bruce? What are you doing here?

Bruce: I’ll tell you in a minute, but first I want to know how you’re holding up. Did they ever find Pepper?

Tony: *starting to cry* No. It’s been four months and we’ve found nothing. Well, nothing but this. *Tony pulls out a ring* They found her wedding ring in the ruins of her sister’s house. 

Bruce: *pulls Tony into a hug* I’m so sorry. If you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to call. How’s Morgan?

Tony: She’s still my pride and joy. She misses her mommy, but she’s a wonderful daughter. Just turned three. I’m keeping this one close, I can’t lose her like I did Peter and Pepper. Speaking of children, congratulations. I heard about the baby. You’re not seriously going to name a boy Triffle, are you?

Bruce: We have no choice. Anyway, back to the reason I’m here. The government of Panem needs to be stopped. A secret organization called S.H.I.E.L.D. is working to overthrow Snow, and I’ve been sent to recruit you.

Tony: No. No way. I can’t join a revolution. 

Bruce: We need you! The Hunger Games, the bombings, the whippings, the avoxes and muttations, none of this is acceptable! We owe it to Peter and Pepper and Vision and Sammy and everyone else The Capitol saw as disposable. This isn’t right and it isn’t fair!

Tony: I know, but this sounds dangerous and my top priority will always be keeping my daughter safe. 

Bruce: What if your daughter could live in a world where she didn’t have to worry about the reaping every year? A world where she could see other districts. A world where the citizens aren’t oppressed. 

Tony: That sounds amazing, but I can’t. What if they find out and kill Morgan?

Bruce: We won’t let that happen. Just please consider it. These people really want to make a change, and I want to be a part of it. But none of this is possible without you.

Tony: And you’re sure these people can be trusted?

Bruce: Yes. 

Tony: Then count me in. For Pepper. And Peter. And for Morgan. Most importantly, for the future of Panem. I’m joining your revolution. 

*Meanwhile back in 12*

Natasha: You may be wondering why I shut you both in a soundproof invisibility bubble with me. There is a secret organization called S.H.I.E.L.D. that has been created to overthrow Snow and I was sent to recruit you because-

Both twins at once: We’re in. 

*About two months later, everyone at S.H.I.E.L.D. was preparing to deliver the first blow. *

Peggy: Okay, we want to start small with something barely noticeable. In order to do that, we need someone to sneak in and grab a secret file. With that gone, The Capitol will no longer have arena ideas for the next few years.The 91st Hunger Games is probably already all planned, given it’s in a month, but this will be a major setback and a distraction for some of the most prominent figures in The Capitol.

Natasha: If we’re doing something against the games, I want to be involved.

Peggy: Absolutely not. You are in no condition to sneak into that building. 

Natasha: What’s that supposed to mean?!

Peggy: Ordinarily, I’d send you in in a heartbeat, but...

Natasha: What? Am I not good enough? Did you see me in the games? I’m not proud of it, but I’m told I was impressive!

Bruce: Nat, you’re five months pregnant. 

Natasha: Oh, right. 

Peggy: Anyway, we’re sending in Wanda, Daisy, and Gamora. Tony Stark has made rigs for Daisy and Wanda similar to what Peter Parker made in the games. Wanda, yours will allow you to move objects with your mind.

Tony: These ones are a lot stronger than what you had in the arena. You’ll be able to move bigger objects and even people. They also work long distance. 

Peggy: Daisy, yours will allow you to pulse vibrations through the floor, creating miniature earthquakes.

Tony: You can direct them towards specific people and everything. 

Peter: What about Gamora? Are you just going to send her in with nothing?

Gamora: Don’t be ridiculous. *pulling out ID badge* I have my dad’s ID badge. It’ll give us access to everything. Also, I have a retractable sword. 

Peter: Oh, okay. 

Daniel: So you’ll be safe then? Because you have the ID badge?

Daisy: We’ll be fine, I promise. *kisses his cheek* Besides, it’s a really fast, in and out, kind of mission. We’ll be back before you know I’m gone. 

Daniel: I miss you already. Be safe.

Daisy: Don’t worry, we will. 

*After they leave*

Tony: So, you and Daisy, huh? How’d you two meet?

Daniel: We’re both involved with S.H.I.E.L.D. She and I met through this. 

Tony: Meeting through work, nice. That’s how I met my wife. *sniff* Well, I guess now she’s my ex wife. *begins sobbing* 

Bruce: *puts hand on Tony’s shoulder* You’ll be okay. here. *hugs Tony*

Daniel: Messy divorce?

Bruce: She was killed in an attack by The Capitol. 

*An hour later, Daisy, Gamora, and Wanda return. S.H.I.E.L.D. is officially up and running, and they aren’t going to back down.*

[witchqueenofthemoon]

BODY AND SOUL Part 7 (Duncan Shepherd/Mackenzie Stone Millory AU)

BODY AND SOUL MASTERPOST

Author’s Note: I’m sorry we have to go through all this stress, babes, but it’s imperative that Duncan and Kenzie face the formidable forces of their badass mothers before they can deal with the incoming stress of the paps and the press; because that shit is coming. I both enjoyed and struggled writing Annette in this chapter; I really wanted to get Diane Lane’s performance down in this, and I do think I ultimately succeeded, but it wasn’t easy. Ultimately, Annette Shepherd loves her son, and that’s an unshakable truth. I keep thinking of Samuel as Duncan’s Jiminy Cricket, always saying something profound, Duncan’s conscience sitting on his shoulder. The smut is returning in the next chapter. They can’t stay away from each other for long and I don’t want them to and you, dear reader, probably don’t want them to, either. Here’s IN A SENTIMENTAL MOOD, which is the mood around this part too, for what it’s worth. Please reblog and like and spread around the masterpost, which won’t show up under the godforsaken #millory tag for some reason, thank you!

Duncan pressed a hand to his chin in his familiar tick, finger stressing against his bottom lip, his eyes gazing downward, not really seeing anything around him the backseat of the BMW; what he saw was Kenzie, the golden fall of her hair in the morning sun (god, I love her, an angel, he’d thought, his mind still soft in sleep), the way she’d turned over her shoulder to look at him, her round, bare ass making his morning wood even harder, the way he’d eased into wakefulness, drunk with the kind of restful, all-consuming sleep he hadn’t had in years, drunk on being pressed against her, the way she’d bitten into his finger, thrilling him, the soft feeling of the skin between her shoulders under his mouth. Her smell had filled his nose as soon as he breathed in, eyes opening to her; he felt sure he’d be content to wake every day to the scent of her, filling him, enveloping him. He was already dreading the coldness, the emptiness of his bed tonight. It made him absolutely ache. A blessing to be near her, a curse to be away from her. I guess this is what it’s like, and he shivered. To be in love.

Samuel eyed him through the rearview. “Mr. Shepherd, she is an angel. And absolute angel. You best not let go of her. I can see how special she is. I saw it right away. Like a pearl in the flotsam of the sea.”

Duncan looked up at him, grinning. “Samuel, that was lovely. And I know. And I won’t. I asked her to be my girlfriend last night, and she said yes.”

Samuel flashed his white smile, his dark brown eyes taking on the glow that Duncan knew so well from when he was a child and Samuel was one of his closest friends and dearest comforts, especially when his mother was in a bad mood. “That makes you a very fortunate man, indeed.”

“It does. I am not going to mess this up. I can’t.”

“But she is Madeline Stone’s daughter,” Samuel said, like the voice of Duncan’s conscience, probing into his private thoughts. “Whatever shall we do about that?”

“Fuck if I know, Samuel. But I’m going to tell Mom tonight. I have to try to make her understand.”

Samuel blew air in a harsh stream from his nose. “Whew, Mr. Shepherd. That is not going to be easy.”

“You’re telling me.”

“I wish you the best of luck. She is a jewel. I hope to see her often with you in the future.”

“Thank you, Samuel. Thank you for everything you’ve ever done for me.”

Samuel looked at him, eyes glancing up from the road, going back to it, looking back at him again. He seemed to be thinking about something for awhile, something he didn’t say; then, he spoke.

“I do believe she is making you a better man already, Mr. Shepherd. Fortune is indeed smiling on you.” And Duncan was struck by the familiar words, so similar to the ones he’d thought to himself, spoke aloud to Kenzie in the privacy of his room with her little hand in his, their eyes gazing into each other. Deja vu washed over him in a wave again (how often will that happen now, he thought, eyes staring out the window at the city lights again, and they reflected the blue in them, making them gold, as if he were Midas, turning the world to riches, how often will I feel like time is crashing into me now, insisting I’ve known her for a thousand years), and he felt overwhelmed with the embrace of all that had happened over the past few days, overwhelmed with the hand that felt like destiny that had pushed him onto the balcony and into her orbit, as if she were a planet and he was the moon, attracted to her inexorably, brought to her by the invisible, feminine hands of the Fates: Clotho, Lachesis, Atropos, he thought, spinning, weaving, cutting, if you are watching us, you Wise Women, All-Knowing, please bless us, have pity on us, mortals in love, abject to the will of the Gods. For I love her and my Fate is now sealed.

He couldn’t and wouldn’t let anything come between him and Kenzie; not even his mother.

------

Duncan stumbled through his Gardner Analytics press that day, his mind elsewhere entirely. Melody had given him an exasperated, confused, incredulous look, a what the fuck is your problem today look, after the third time he messed up his taped interview with C-SPAN at Shepherd Hall.

“Are you okay?” She asked, siding up to him as the reporter and cameraman walked away, a mixture of annoyance and concern on her face, pointing at them with her thumb. “What the fuck was that?”

Duncan pressed his hand against his chin, shaking his head; “I’m fine, just feeling disoriented today, I had a lot going on this weekend.”

Melody’s raised her eyebrows, her expression falling further. “And what exactly did you do this weekend…?”

“A lot.” He walked away from her. No doubt everyone will know soon enough, he thought as he heard her scoff behind him. But fuck, telling my mother is enough for today.

An hour later, he texted Kenzie while he was in his meeting (I’m aching for you, angel) until she stopped replying, obviously done with her lunch, and he scrolled back, lost in her messages, discontent with the physical distance between them. Mackenzie Louise Stone. He felt like he was in high school, looking down at the corner of his napkin where he drew the loops of her name during the meeting for the Foundation’s upcoming charity event; though it was less a charity event than a Gala, at $3,000 a plate and only accessible with an exclusive invitation; only for the wealthiest of DC society. His mother invited practically every A-list celebrity in New York and the surrounding proximate cities to the event for the past two years alongside the expected politicians, and it was becoming the new Met Gala in its own right; the dress code was wildly strict and staunch, themed, and well-documented by DC press (and, increasingly, by press on the East Coast in general). Duncan only half-listened to the list of preparatory arrangements, pondering her face, the shape of her mouth, her wide, bright eyes, her hair falling like ocean waves made of gold and sand, the plunge between her breasts, the sweetness between her legs, her loveliness, her sincerity, tears glimmering in the corners of her eyes, the way she had said I want you to come, baby, and how he had wanted her to grasp his neck and force him to come, remembered how she’d told him to surrounded by roses and he had, wildly, into her, hoping it would never end because it was in her embrace, ecstatic to obey her, but then he thought of how he’d wildly grasped her in his shower, his hands on her neck and his body full of pent desire and she’d welcomed him, her eyes dark, full of lust, begging for his touch, and he wondered at what secrets they’d unlock in each other in the days to come and was thrilled at the prospect, at the fantasy of her reality; she seemed to have unlocked a Pandora’s box of desire in the pit of his body and he wanted her to do with him whatever she wanted, wanted to give her anything she asked for, imagined her little clothes hanging in his closet, her pointed boots and strappy heeled sandals and her little intricate gold jewelry and her crystals and her scent lingering there among his black shirts, her gold settling into his clothing, into his life; he was far, far away in thoughts of her and her wet sex pressed against his lips, her cries of rapture, when Seth cleared his throat and said again:

“Duncan. What do you think?”

“Hmmm?” Duncan looked up, his fingers pressed to the side of his jaw, turning his eyes up from where he’d been drawing spirals languidly around Kenzie’s name on the napkin under his tonic water, where before they’d been turned down to the texts they’d exchanged half an hour ago, making him hard and restless and drifting in his longing for her and her alone.

“Something about a silver lining. The theme. For the Gala.”

“Oh.” He sat up a little, blinking.

“Angels and Demons?” Seth said, turning back to the shareholders and advisors around the table. “Diamond in the rough? Yin and yang?”

“An ember of fire in a void.”

The people around the table turned towards Duncan’s statement. He put the pen that was in his hand down, and trailed a finger along the surface of his phone in his hand under the table; all along his thoughts, Mackenzie danced and flitted away from him, gazed up at him through a field of flowers wherein she lay, laughed at him, against him, in dripping candlelight, pulled him into dappled sunlight, kissed him beneath blooming trees and in his dark bed and in the dark light of evening, glowing. Held him in the darkness. Held him in moonlight, her hands in his hair, his lips on her neck, their bodies close beyond measure.

“Gold in the darkness.” The audacity of hope, he thought. Her.

“Gold in the darkness, that’s great, Duncan, perfect.” Seth glanced at him, nodding, writing furiously on the memo pad in front of him. “That’s it.”

It’s her, Duncan thought again, blue-gray eyes flickering from Seth to the others and back down to his phone, where he knew her messages were enshrined like words scratched into a digital temple, thinking of Kenzie’s little black velvet dress, her quartz necklace in the moonlight, in the light of his bedside lamp as he pulled her into his lap in the throes of the first time they fucked and the softness of her on top of him in the bathtub with roses kissing her skin, her face shrouded in candlelight and his sight going hazy with her beauty and she was exquisite and soft as a dream and gold and the memories were like amber in him already, going solid, hard, seared onto the surface of his heart, fossils of time, a fossil of her pressed into him, no matter what happened now, he’d never forget it, gold on his black clothes, gold dust ground into his skin, the sheen of her aura, her soul, as if he’d eaten a piece of her and now the glow emanated from his body, invisible but to those who had a blacklight from the eternities, able to see the essence of a person, able to see how he was glowing from within because she loved him and he loved her and that, he thought, was the only thing, The only thing. Everything. Kenzie.

-----

Back in the warm, familiar backseat of the BMW, Duncan gazed out the darkening window at the glittering expanse of the District of Columbia, unable to divorce that image of Kenzie from his mind, the slight outline of her that he’d first glimpsed against the roses along the balcony, the lights glittering behind her, her sad face staring out into the open air, the hand of fate pressing into his chest. He wondered; what can I do to make her happy? The thought shook itself into the outline of his ribs, into the space of his eardrums, into the ventricles and veins of his blood.  What can I do for her? I’d do anything for her. I’d die for her. His heart pounded in his ears; he felt as if he could feel every drop of blood coursing through his body. How can I make Mom understand how I feel about this woman? We’ve only known each other for three days but I feel as though I’ve been searching for her every day of my life until now. That this is, at last, the realization of hole in my heart that has finally been filled, like the missing mechanism of an intricate clockwork. I didn’t even know it was missing, but now I don’t know how I lived without it. I don’t know how I lived without her. The thought of living without her now fills me with so much horror, I can’t stand it. Is this what the great poets wrote about? Love, undying, all-consuming, and like the soft hand of a little death?

“Samuel, have you ever been in love?” he asked, looking up into the rearview, running a thumb absently over the surface of his phone, clutched in his hand, as if he could feel her through it. He imagined her name there, tracing its imaginary outline. He thought of her hair again, her eyes, her laughing against him after they came together, thought of her tears.

“Oh yes, Mr. Shepherd.” Samuel said nothing after that, and the silence leaned into Duncan, like the weight of a heavy hand.

“What happened?”

“She married someone else, Mr. Shepherd.”

“Oh. Samuel, I’m sorry.”

“It’s quite alright, Mr. Shepherd. It was...a very long time ago. Not everything in life happens how you want it to. To be loved, even for a little while, is a great gift. To love, in its way, an even greater gift. However long you are given these gifts, you cherish them. That’s the secret to life. I’ve thought so for quite awhile.”

“I love her, Samuel. I love her and I want to make her happy. I want to do whatever it takes to be with her.”

“Make sure she knows, Mr. Shepherd.”

They both lapsed into silence, soft strains of Ella Fitzgerald (Samuel’s favorite) floating toward Duncan from the front of the car: there’s a somebody I’m longing to see / I hope that he turns out to be...someone who’ll watch over me…

Mom, I’m on my way to you, he typed into his phone. I have something important to talk to you about that means the world to me. I love you and hope you’ll understand. See you soon.

-------

Samuel pulled around the wraparound drive of the Shepherd mansion, its Colonial shutter-style windows lit with the electric candles that went on automatically around sunset (the sun had just peeked below the horizon a moment before, the last indigo fragments hovering at the skyline, small scudding clouds still visible over the hazy city starlight), between their crimson velvet curtains. The lights were on downstairs, throwing glowing light out onto the blacktop; Fine, Duncan, I’ll see you soon, Annette had replied in her text to him, and she hadn’t said anything else. Duncan felt on edge now, conscious that the moment he so dreaded was closing in on him, clenching its hands to trap him. He looked down at his phone again as Samuel idled in front of his mother’s house, and noticed a text from Kenzie.

There was a link to a gossip website (buzzpopfeed.com) with an accompanying headline attached: SHEPHERD UNLIMITED HEIR DUNCAN SHEPHERD SPOTTED AT--and then the link cut off. Under it, Kenzie had typed: Just told my mom and she isn’t taking it very well so far. I’m going to try to talk to her somemore over dinner. In the meantime, my friend sent me this. I thought you should know.

Duncan clicked the link, raising his hand to his jaw. He scrolled through the pictures (she’s so lovely, he thought, gazing at her shy expression, their hands clasped together, the fall of her hair over her shoulder, my Kenzie) until he reached the one at the bottom. Oh, no, he thought, staring at the aching kiss he was pressing into Kenzie’s face, the expression painted into her sweet features, the way their bodies pressed together. There’s no room for ambiguity with this one. He was sitting in his mother’s driveway, about to steel his nerves to tell her he wanted to date Mackenzie Stone because he was in love with her, and now this. Now he had no choice, now, it was out, no matter what he decided to do next. He wondered with a cold chill if his mother had seen the photos yet. He winced.

“Bad news, Samuel,” he said, lowering his phone. “Some pictures were taken when Mackenzie and I were at the bistro last night. Now they’re online.”

“Mr. Shepherd...it may be for the best.”

“I know you’re right. But fuck.”

“Be brave, Mr. Shepherd. That’s what she deserves. Your courage. And you know as well as I do: this is for her. She will need all your strength in the days to come. She is not from your world and she will need your help to navigate it.”

Duncan gazed at him for a moment, quietly; then, some strange sixth sense touched him, and he looked up through the window of the car and noticed, with a jolt of shock, that his mother had been standing at the balcony on the second floor that overarched the pillared front doorway, staring at him, or at least at the BMW (the windows were tinted) with a curious expression for at least a minute or more; her body had an observant sort of stiff pose, her arms crossed, her face gazing down, her brow furrowed, her lips closed. Her expression was unreadable, but there was a stillness about her that unnerved him deeply. It communicated one thing in particular to him: it was time to get out of the fucking car, Duncan.

He pulled the door open, stepping out, staring up at her.

“Hi, mom,” he called up, raising his voice enough to carry it over the steps and pillars to where she stood, staring at him, her eyes dark.

Annette said nothing. She stared at him a moment longer (his blood coursed suddenly to an icy cold stream), then she stepped away, through the second-floor deck’s glass French doors.

“Oh, fuck,” Duncan murmured. He pressed a hand through the side of his hair, looking down at his phone for a moment. He contemplated sending Kenzie a quick reply (goodbye my darling I am about to be fucking murdered by Annette Shepherd), but decided against it, slipping his phone into the pocket of his tailored leather jacket, idly yanking at the sleeves of the long-sleeved shirt he wore underneath it, taking a deep breath of the early-evening air into his lungs, blowing it out, and going up the three long white steps, into his mother’s house.

Inside it was glowing and gold, the opulent fixtures and furniture spotlessly clean as they always were, the gold-white banisters of the staircase shining in the dim glow of the electric chandeliers that extended on either side of it. He looked up the stairs and watched his mother descend; tonight, Annette Shepherd wore a black wrap-top with tailored black suit pants and black flats, the shoes she only wore at home when she was alone. Her hair was down around her shoulders in soft styled waves; her hair always seemed perfect to him, not a strand out of place, not a tangle, smooth and serene, the way her slender face often appeared even when there was a boiling river of hellfire rolling under her expression. She had no jewelry on but for the small round diamond earrings she often wore at her ears; he almost never saw her wear necklaces, as though her neck were perfect enough on its own without adornments. Her dark eyes continued to look at him, silent.

She reached the bottom of the steps, stopping before she descended entirely, so she hovered above him, just enough to look down into his face. It was a familiar power move from his mother; he was taller than she was, so she used those steps strategically, as she did in all things (how could she use it, them, anything to her advantage), to give herself leverage. She held her large iPhone in one hand; she brought it up, scrolling down for a moment, and held the screen up to him. It was the photo of him and Kenzie embracing, his lips pressed ardently against her; the picture he’d just seen for the first time in the car a moment before, the photo he knew he wouldn’t be able to bullshit his way out of to Annette Shepherd.

“Who is she.”

“Mom. Please don’t--”

“Do not fucking stall with me, Duncan. Who. Is. She.”

He regarded her for a moment, forcing himself to stare into his mother’s dark eyes; he could see the glimmer of anger there now, one she was good at hiding from years of political practice, but not forever, not from him. There was a moment of struggle that passed between them; a sort of clash of silent wills, Annette determined to have her son tell her the entire truth with not even a hint of falsehood, Duncan determined to tell her only what was absolutely necessary for fear of her wrath and shielding Kenzie from it, as well. Annette won the battle for the moment, as Duncan felt the wave of resignation wash over him. There was nothing for it. Time to rip off the bindings and air out the truth.

“Her name is Mackenzie.”

Annette rolled her eyes at that, scoffing, her composure finally fracturing. “What’s her fucking name, Duncan, her full fucking name. Who the fuck is she? Is this what you wanted to tell me about?”

She spat the word this out, her anger palpable in the texture of it, her annoyance bubbling over and clashing against him. This. She meant Mackenzie. It sent a twinge of anger through his skull, a scattering of red-hot reaction at the back of his eyes. Fuck it, he thought. I don’t care.

“Mackenzie Stone.”

He watched his mother’s eyes go wide and dumbfounded for a moment, the anger in her expression muddling to one of shock.

“Stone.”

“Yes.”

“No. No way. No goddamn fucking way, Duncan. No FUCKING way.”

“Mom. Please.”

“What could you be thinking? What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” She pointed a finger at him, the way she used to when he had broken something priceless or made a mess in an inconvenient place.

“She’s Madeline Stone’s daughter, and I’m in love with her.”

The flabbergasted expression fell over Annette’s sharply beautiful features again, and she reached out, it seemed, involuntarily, to clutch the banister, like she would fall otherwise. Her face drained of color (oh god, just how I imagined, he thought), cheeks seeping into whiteness.

“I won’t allow it.”

“You won’t allow it? What am I, a teenager?”

She stormed down the remaining steps, pushing past him roughly, waving a hand dismissively at him as she turned her back towards the dining room.

“This is ridiculous, I refuse to listen to this. Forget her. I’ll make it disappear. Just stop, right now.”

“Mom. No.” He forced his voice to remain even.

She stopped abruptly, turned, eyes blazing.

“No?”

“Mom, listen to me,” he said, and he was devastated to find that he could hear tears at the edge of his voice this time, could feel emotion bubbling under his throat, at the back of his eyes. He stepped to her, reaching for her hand, grasping it (it was cold and she tried to pull it away), gaining traction, tightening there, insistently. “Please, listen to me. It’s me, Duncan. I’m telling you something important. I love her, okay? I love her.”

Her eyes, dark and clouded with her blind anger, blinked at him, her lips pressing together, her body rigid.

“I love her. I want to be with her. I want your blessing, but I’m going to be with her with or without it. I love you and I wanted to tell you because I want to be honest with you. Please don’t make me regret that. Mom. Please. Can we sit down? Can we--please (and his voice cracked, he couldn’t stop it)--can we talk about this?”

He felt her trying to pull out of his grasp again, her expression still threaded with deep anger, but she said nothing, only stared at him. He saw her eyes flicker, change, as a tear, to his dismay, fell from his eye, coursing down his cheek.

“Duncan.”

“Mom. Please.”

Annette seemed utterly confused then, her perplexity falling over her cheeks and mouth, making them fall downwards; her eyes looked away from him, across the hall, at nothing.

“Madeline Stone’s fucking daughter, Duncan.”

“I’m sorry. I know you don’t want to hear this. I know you hate her and she humiliated you. But this isn’t about you. It’s about me. I’m asking you to please--please--give us your blessing. If you’ve ever loved me at all, you’ll do this for me.”

She looked at him again, annoyance in her face once more until she glanced at the wetness on his cheek; remembered the tear that had fallen there a moment ago, and her mouth opened a little, her expression falling again, disbelieving. Duncan knew that his mother wasn’t used to seeing him cry; he almost never did, even when he was a child, holding in his fears and his sadness until he felt ready to explode, never feeling as though he was safe enough to let his emotions go, let his despair out. But Kenzie had kindled in him an openness, an abandon; a desire to show his emotions, to hell with what the world pinned on him. She loved him. That was more than enough.

“I’m sorry you had to find out this way. I was coming to tell you and those photos beat me to it. But I’m telling you now because I want you to know. You can’t pretend like I didn’t tell you, because I did. I just did. I love her. Please accept her.”

“You love her.” Annette repeated his words, her tone incredulous. “You fucking love her. Jesus. Youth. Of all the women on the planet, Duncan. Madeline Stone’s daughter?”

He let go of his mother’s hand, taking a step back, brushing his fingers under his nose, the back of his knuckles against the wetness on his cheek, and turned away from her in frustration.

“It doesn’t matter whose daughter she is, Mom.”

“Oh, you think it doesn’t?” she snapped at him, walking past him, back towards the dining room. He followed her, ears ringing with the anger and sadness that had started to hum in his mind, bringing his hands together, pressing his thumb into the palm of his left hand, trying to quell it.

“When you love someone, it shouldn’t.”

“This could fucking destroy your political career. This could cause serious problems with the bill, with Shepherd Unlimited, with all the work we’ve done.”

Duncan let out an exasperated groan. “Jesus fucking Christ, Mom, how is will this destroy anything but one of your endless grudges? Your stubborn insistence on hating people who, in this case, you’ve never met...and who mean everything to me?” The dining table was set with an impressive leg of lamb with several side-dishes surrounding it; Annette had employed a personal chef, Arturo (3 Michelin stars) for as long as Duncan could remember, his meals throughout Duncan’s childhood and adolescence prepared meticulously; he remembered his school lunches looked markedly different from even his other wealthy classmates in private school growing up, featuring pan-seared greens and cuts of Kobe beef and creme brulee (Annette had insisted on Arturo making his lunches, he was never allowed to have the school lunches). Annette stopped in her tracks, mouth agape at him again. “Means everything to you? And what do I mean to you, Duncan?”

“Mom. Why do you think I’m here?”

She turned away again, storming to her seat, slapping her phone down onto the Waterford tablecloth, grabbing at the bottle of Chateau Lafite (the corkscrew still hovering around the lip, but mostly pulled up by the house butler--Ingrid, who was Scandinavian and tight-lipped and who Duncan felt sure would defend Annette with her life if the need ever arose, and who had also been with the Shepherds for three decades--though at the moment, she had wisely vacated the room, no doubt hearing the raised nature of their conversation) that rested between the two place-settings at the south end of the room, yanking the rest of the cork out, and pouring the expensive wine unceremoniously into the crystal wine glass in front of her, glaring at it as though it was the source of her anger. She set the bottle down, pushing it away from her; grasped the crystal and raised it to her mouth, draining it all in one long draught.

“Sit the fuck down, Duncan.”

He stalked over to the seat beside her (hers at the head of the table, as usual), yanked out the heavy oakwood dining chair, and sat, his hands coming together in front of him, elbows on his thighs, sitting back, glaring at her, his eyes full of gathering stormclouds. It was time use the leverage at his disposal.

“I’m your son, Annette.”

“I’m fucking aware of that. It’s the source of my ire.”

“This is what I want. This is my happiness at stake.”

Annette paused, lifting her head, setting her chin at an angle, breathing in and out great bursts, and then she let out a sigh (resignation?) that made Duncan’s nerves fizzle.

“If you do anything--I mean fucking anything--to compromise the bill or the company, I will personally push her off a fucking balcony.”

He bit his lip, anger seething through the space between his brow. Annette talking about hurting Kenzie, even in jest, made him feel absolutely mad, unhinged with resentment towards her. She didn’t know. She didn’t know how beautiful Kenzie was, how luminous and lovely, how kind and the way gold shone out of her, the light, the goodness. She didn’t know Kenzie, and she didn’t know what she was fucking saying. He was silent and still, the stormclouds still seething behind his eyes, gazing at her, hands still clasped on his lap. I won’t let you do that, he thought. I will never let you lay a finger on her golden head.

“Did you fucking hear me, Duncan.” She poured more of the Lafite into her crystal glass, glancing down at her phone (a text flashed up, the iPhone vibrating against the table), glancing at him.

“Yes, Mom. I heard you.”

“Not a thing. Not a fucking thing to compromise the institutions I have built the last twenty years. Or I will fucking get rid of her myself.”

You could try, he thought. They stared at each other for a moment again; that impassable tension floating between them once more, both struggling for the upper hand. As long as I’m alive, you won’t touch her.

“Tell me you understand what I just said.”

“I understand.”

“Fine.” Annette reached across the table curtly, grabbing the silver tongs that rested in a dish of pan-seared asparagus with lemon and ground pepper, throwing several stalks unceremoniously onto the Hermes porcelain plate in front of her. “I want to meet her. This week. No excuses. Friday, after the Foundation press conference for the Dance Center. Plume, the usual table. 6 PM sharp. She’ll be coming to the Gala with you, I’d imagine.”

He hadn’t even thought of the Gala beyond the meeting today; his thoughts had been far too wrapped up Kenzie to even bother to consider it. “Yes,“ he said, fighting to keep his tone simplistic.

“She’s telling Madeline, I presume.”

“Yes.”

“Good. None of this can go forward otherwise. Now that those photos are live, we have to work hard to control the story surrounding them.”

“I’m not going to lie to anyone about her, Mom.” Duncan clenched his teeth.

“Control, I said. Containment. We can turn this into an advantage, but we have to harness the narrative from the outset.”

“There is no narrative. I love her and I want us to be together.”

“God, stop fucking saying that, Duncan. I fucking heard you the first fifty times.”

He leaned back in the chair, letting a colossal breath of frustration out of his mouth and nose. His mother could be a cruel, heartless person sometimes. A cold, ruthless, and implacable psyche, unfeeling and immovable. He loved his mother, but he hated her propensity for spite. He hated the way she was ignoring his sincerity; as if it meant nothing to her.

“I’ll call Madeline. I’ll do this for you, Duncan.” Annette took another ungraceful gulp from her wine glass, no doubt aware there were no prying eyes to critique her at the moment beyond her willful son. “But you keep this under control. You keep her under control.”

As if I could ever do that, he thought. Kenzie’s spirit is brighter than anyone I’ve ever seen. I could never control her. I can only hope to deserve to be near her. But Annette did not understand, that was clear. Whether she ever would remained unclear. But at least she had agreed, in her way, for now.

He pulled the Lafite over to his own crystal, pouring himself a generous glass.

“You’ll like her.”

Annette smiled, but it was a mirthless smile. “That was her smell on you the other day, wasn’t it.”

His eyes flickered. He hesitated.

“Don’t ever fucking lie to me again. Or I will make you regret it, my only son.”

Duncan gulped the wine, not moving his eyes from his mother’s face. Annette stared back, and her eyes were like dark orbs of obsidian, spheres of void, blackest night. He did not doubt that she meant what she said this time, and he nodded, swallowing the wine. “I’m sorry,” he said.

She used the tongs to place several spears of the asparagus on the plate in front of him, the way she often had doled his food when he was a child. He picked up his fork, his heart slowing finally, and stabbed it into one of the spears, bringing it to his mouth, her dark eyes watching him for another moment, her expression indecipherable. Then, she picked up her phone to stare at the text she’d received, and he glanced down into his pocket, noticing his phone lighting up with a text message of his own. Kenzie.

Mom isn’t happy, but I think I made her understand, at least a little. At least for now. She wants to meet you soon; I thought maybe on Friday? Duncan pressed his lips together in frustration. He couldn’t imagine it would be a good idea for Annette and Madeline to have dinner together so soon after his and Kenzie’s admissions. He couldn’t imagine how he’d orchestrate a scene that included his mother, Madeline Stone and Mackenzie, at least, not yet. The thought made him shudder with its likelihood of disaster. He looked up from his phone, noticing his mother’s eyes on him again.

“Is that her?” She asked curtly.

“Yes.”

“Eat dinner with your mother. She can wait.”

Duncan looked at Annette, stormclouds rolling in behind his eyes again. This was going to be a hell of a ride, wasn’t it? A real hell of a fucking time.

-------

Duncan had finally escaped from his mother’s clutches; she had insisted he stay later than he’d wanted to, going on and on about the Foundation, Claire Underwood’s opposition to the bill, his Uncle Bill’s chemo (I’d feel worse about his cancer if he wasn’t such an asshole all the time, Duncan thought), the Gala (“I’ll be the one to take her for a dress,” she’s said matter-of-factly, and Duncan had been unable to hide his smirk; good luck telling Kenzie what to wear, he thought, she has a unique style of her own and I would never presume to do that, and Mom, I’m giving her an expense account, and I’m not going to tell you about it, and she’s going to keep her things at my penthouse and you can’t stop her because I won’t let you), the Dance Center’s grand opening, and the inner workings of his recent projects for the front that was Gardner Analytics; a hard-working piece of propaganda orchestrated by Annette primarily, though he didn’t presume to erase his own contributions and involvement. Duncan felt as though in a few short days the trajectory of his life had abruptly switched course somehow; had been pulled into a tunnel lit by fairy lights and roses and wisps of summer air full of drifting flowers; the things he’d cared about only a few days before no longer seemed to mean anything, and his thoughts were full of Mackenzie Stone like an oasis of water in a desert, a haven of wondrous meaning in a vast expanse of nothing. His mind drifted with the Lafite ground into his blood now, and he laid his head back on the leather backseat of the BMW (Samuel was playing Duke Ellington and John Coltrane now; In a Sentimental Mood, he thought, oh yes, I am). He looked down at his phone, finally alone to text Kenzie without any interruptions or prying eyes.

Baby, I’m so sorry it took so long to text you back. It took a long time to get my Mom to a place where she wasn’t being irrational. Thank you for sending me that link; everything’s okay, my Mom has seen it already, we’ll make it through this, I promise. She wants to meet you on Friday as well; can we see your Mom on a different day? I can make time on Wednesday or Thursday, I just don’t know if it’s a good idea to have dinner with both of them at the same time yet. I feel like we’re going to have to ease them both into this, and I want everything to work out okay. I want them to accept this (accept us, accept you, accept me) because it means more to me than anything else. You do.

I miss you terribly right now.

He lowered his phone, staring out at the night, and truly he wanted nothing in the world but to be with her. He felt starkly afraid at forgetting the smell of her hair and her perfume; he wished he had a piece of her clothing or a token of some kind to grasp in his hands, assuring him of her reality in a world that seemed to lack her in every instance in this moment. A world without her was truly abject. He sent a silent prayer into the sky; Fates, you seem to be the Gods for me: make her sure that I love her, because I do, I do, I do.

He felt his phone vibrate in his hand, and looked down, dazed in the rhythms of drum and piano; Kenzie.

Baby, can you come to my apartment? Please come.

Duncan sat up with a jolt, his hazy drunkenness eeking away. “Samuel, go to Kenzie’s apartment building, please.”

“Of course, Mr. Shepherd.” Samuel turned abruptly, without needing to change the course of his GPS; I guess he knows the way to her house already, Duncan thought, and he smiled, full of affection and anticipation. Coming to you, baby, he typed, and sat back, Ellington and Coltrane assuring him: fortune is smiling on you, the Fates have heard your prayer.

[succiducus]

"how very boring of you." the advisor deadpans, despite the way the corners of his lips tick upward in jest and fondness. he supposed, to a person like him who had tried with all of his might to be anywhere but the place of his birth, her simple desire to see the flower fields of her own country would seem odd. abdullah's eyes meet the darkness in front of them. home rarely felt like home, even now. "is this your first voyage then? away from home?"

she was glad to hear somebody out there wasn't going to hold a grudge against her for simply being french. the princess nodded her head, dropping the subject. " oh, that would be true, i am not well versed in entomology. i have read lots of books on insects, but that is simply because i've read a lot of books. there is not much to do when you do not leave home. " she said with a soft laugh. much of her time trapped inside her gilded cage was spent reading the many books in the library, even the ones she did not care to read.

" well . . . " she thought it for a moment, " i would love to see rome, and london, " the princess smiled, " i would love to see scotland, and even someplace as simple as the lavender fields of my own country. i have never had the chance to see them. "

[succiducus]

a dependent multi-muse blog for theopulenthq. written by ateş , utc+300 , he/they.

GENERAL NAVIGATION:

act i: lal qila / act ii: ethiopia / act iii: brazil - thread tracker - wanted connections

ROSTAM SELIM ABDUL-QAJAR SHAH of THE OTTOMAN EMPIRE (şükrü özyıldız)

threads / sir khan (✝) / rossariyan / rightful & regent / meet the abdul - qajars

thread count: 4/8

EMPEROR MUNJAL BHATI of THE MUGHAL EMPIRE (ranveer singh)

threads / with parvati / meet the bhati's

thread count: 3/3

KING RAFAEL JAMES RATSIFI of MADAGASCAR (michael ealy) **intro coming soon

threads / rafdrika / meet the ratsifis

thread count: 1/3

LORD ULRICH 'JOHANNES' SIGURDSSON of NORWAY (phillip froissant)

threads / nellrich / meet the sigurdssons

thread count: 4/4

ADVISOR MURAT ABDULLAH MACKENZIE of SCOTLAND (uraz kaygılaroğlu)

threads / caildullah / meet the mackenzies

thread count: 3/5

SIR CATHAIR FRASER FERGUSSON of SCOTLAND (sam heughan) ** intro coming soon

threads / meet the fergussons

thread count: 2/3

[brewedsunlight]

Are we entering a new era for utility-scale solar?

By Maren Schmidt, FIMER

As someone who has worked in the global solar PV sector for many years, recent reports outlining the huge growth in renewable energies and specifically solar PV, are very encouraging.

For example, despite the disruption of the past 12-18 months, in its recent Renewable Energy Market Update, the International Energy Agency (IEA) said that, in 2020, annual renewable capacity additions increased 45 percent to almost 280 GW – the highest year-on-year increase since 1999.

It is also forecasting that ‘exceptionally high-capacity additions will become the “new normal” in 2021 and 2022, with renewables accounting for 90 percent of new power capacity expansion globally’. It says that solar PV development will continue to ‘break records’, with annual additions reaching 162 GW by 2022 – almost 50 percent higher than the pre-pandemic level of 2019.

In particular, the share of utility-scale applications is forecast to increase from over 55 percent in 2020 to almost 70 percent in 2022.

This rapid expansion over 2020 and forecast growth for 2021-22 is fantastic news for the sector, and particularly the utility-scale market.

So, what are the key drivers supporting this robust growth outlook?

Increasing cost-effectiveness

Solar PV is fast becoming the most cost-effective form of power generation and can be combined with energy storage to create a reliable source of power. This is as a direct result of the dramatic fall in solar panel prices, solar inverters and more cost-effective mounting and tracker systems, and increased efficiency of solar technology. 

In addition, PPAs are proving increasingly popular and are making utility-scale projects more economically viable.  For example, while the United States remains the dominant corporate PPA market, activity in Europe almost tripled in 2020, with Spain also identified as a hotspot, with a record number of PPAs signed.

While the outlook is less certain in some markets, such as Latin America, especially due to the temporary impact of Covid-19, and changes in political support in the utility-scale sector in countries such Mexico, deployments are still expected to increase.

Government Policies and Regulations

Many global governments have committed to ambitious carbon reduction targets, which is driving solar growth. For example, under the Paris Agreement, the U.S. and Canada committed to cut carbon emissions by approximately 30% between 2025 and 2030; Europe is aiming for a reduction of at least 40% below 1990 levels by 2030; and India has committed to cutting emissions intensity by 33%-35% below 2005 levels and generating 40% of its electricity from non-fossil fuel sources by 2030. The UK also became the first G7 country to legislate to hit net zero emissions by 2050.

ESG and the Corporate Decarbonization Agenda

The transition to renewables is now high on the agenda for developers, investors, utilities, and policymakers, and is being driven by demand from the corporate market that sees procuring energy from a renewable source as a key part of their decarbonization plans. Where installing an on-site solar PV array isn’t possible, buying from a renewable source that is generated from a utility-scale application is growing in popularity.

Innovation to meet demand

With these factors driving growth, particularly for utility-scale solar PV applications, how can technologies meet this demand?

Advancements in Battery Storage — Storage is expected to play a key role in the future success of solar PV – not just for residential and C&I, but for utility-scale as well. The cumulative installed capacity of energy storage projects is expected to increase from 11 GW in 2020 to 168 GW in 2030, according to BloombergNEF’s New Energy Outlook. As batteries become more powerful and last longer, the switch from fossil fuels to solar PV renewable energy will be further supported, increasing overall demand.

Bifacial Modules — Maximizing power outcome is becoming another driver for the rapid growth in demand of utility-scale solar PV projects. One such innovation is the increasing use of bifacial modules. In the US, a report from analysts Wood Mackenzie forecast growth of bifacial modules installed to 2 GW by the end of 2020 compared to 500 MW in 2019, and a huge increase to more than 7 GW by 2024. 

Floating PV Systems — Floating PV is also a trend to watch. According to a report from Fitch Solutions, utility-scale floating solar installations are set to increase globally over the next few years, largely driven by increased investor interest and a growing project pipeline. It estimates that nearly 10GW of new floating solar capacity will be installed in the next 5 years, with Asian markets such as China, South Korea, India, Thailand and Vietnam expected to be key markets.

Higher current requirements — Another important trend is the move towards larger size modules, with the incorporation of 210 mm larger wafers. This demand for high power density solutions, and increasing the number of solar panels per string to reduce cost on BOS, will require inverter technologies to adapt to cope with higher current pics and a higher number of MPPT.

Technology solutions fit for the future

So, how do technology providers ensure that their solutions are fit for purpose in this new era for utility-scale solar? 

For FIMER, a collaborative approach among solar project developers, IPP firms, EPCs, technical advisors and component manufacturers is crucial. As well as adapting and developing our technologies to meet new demands, being involved at the very beginning of the project helps to ensure that the right solution is specified that optimizes performance, increases production and keeps losses to a minimum, aiming to both increase IRR and reduce LCOE.

For example, we recently announced the launch of two new platforms for the utility market – a high-power MPPT inverter and a modular conversion platform – that can serve both centralized and decentralized plant layouts.

In conclusion, it is an exciting time for utility-scale solar projects. Projected strong growth, favourable political and regulatory environments, and increasing corporate demand for renewable energy, mean that innovative utility-scale solar projects are being deployed to fully maximize the power of the sun.

This is pushing demand for technologies that are fit for future growth – a challenge we are more than relishing rising to.

About the Author:

Maren Schmidt De Angelis is managing director of FIMER’s Utility business line.

from Renewable Energy World https://ift.tt/3zJNgTA

[succiducus]

abdullah's mask slips. "ah, that's right, i was solely responsible for the protection of your sister and her lovers." it wasn't the truth, he was an overseer, the man who commanded, who put strategy behind every movement of soldiers, not their personal guard; they had rejected that responsibility from him. "your sister did what she believed was the right at the expense of her people and the people of the nations that found themselves inside our walls. she cared not for finding the trust, do not lie to yourself! she cared about showing off her power to the nations on the off chance that whoever took the rulers of japan, persia, ethiopia, and germany was among us. she put all of us in danger, does that sound like a monarch who cared about justice to you?" "perhaps," abdullah shrugs easily. "had you and your family allowed me to round them up and make an example of what happens to those who make moves against the crown, the people who stormed our palace that night might have thought twice. perhaps the french were not directly responsible but their moves might have planted the seeds of our weakness in the minds of the rebels. and if that's the case then where does that blame lay, parvati? aye, lass, with you and your sister - the two who time and time again made it difficult for me to do my job."

❝ believe that  if  you  wish.  ❞   she  shook her head.   ❝ but it is not the truth. not if they were able to get close to her because you allowed them to remain in our midst for your secret's sake. ❞   from that point she would not waver. had he spoken the truth then the murderer would have never been able to get close enough to drop enough poison into rashmi's drink.  ❝ my sister did what she believed was best. did she misstep? yes. i won't deny that; i spoke against the ball despite it being our tradition to celebrate life rather than mourn death. but you cannot name a monarch who hasn't stumbled. you will not use a single error to discredit her reign, her care for the indian people, and her genuine desire for justice for the victims. her intentions were good. ❞   fire burned. the empire had been strong before the reckoning. it was in rashmi's absence that all had collapsed.  ❝ and was it the french who started the reckoning? ❞   she challenged.  ❝ if we had stood united rather than been so consumed fighting amongst ourselves the true enemy wouldn't have been able to strike so effectively. ❞

[esprit-de-corps-magazine]

D-Day: Canada’s three services on Operation Overlord

By Chris Charland

The coming storm

In February 1943, United States President Franklin D. Roosevelt and British Prime Minister Winston Churchill, along with their respective advisors, held a high-level conference in Casablanca, Morocco. They were there to discuss the future conduct of the war.

They decided that plans for the re-entry in to Europe must be given top priority and the concentration of forces and materials needed for the forthcoming invasion began.

In March 1943, United States Army General Dwight D. Eisenhower selected the British Army’s acting Lieutenant-General Frederick Morgan as chief of staff to the supreme allied commander of the allied force that would invade northern Europe. Morgan is credited as being the original planner for the invasion of Europe.

Lingering concerns and differences of opinion on Operation Neptune, the assault phase of Operation Overlord, were addressed at the Quebec Conference in August 1943. It was agreed that the invasion of France would take place in May 1944.

On November 28, 1943, General Eisenhower, affectionately known as “Ike”, was appointed the supreme allied commander. His duty was no less than to enter the continent of Europe in conjunction with all other allied nations, undertake operations aimed at the heart of Germany and destroy its forces. Taking into consideration a nearly full moon and the Normandy tides, June 5, 1944, was set as the day for an invasion on a scale that had never before been attempted.

The entire daring escapade was a monumental logistics nightmare. In all, more than 7,000 vessels carrying more than 150,000 troops would have to cross the English Channel to France undetected and arrive exactly on time to establish a beachhead. Once the details of invasion were coordinated, the land forces, under Field Marshal Sir Bernard L. “Monty” Montgomery, put forth the logistical requirements. All allied air operations would be under the command of the Royal Air Force’s Air Chief Marshal Sir Trafford Leigh-Mallory

The build-up also had to provide for the debarkation of reinforcements without interruption for five to six weeks after the landing . . . any delay would carry heavy consequences.

The initial landing was delayed by 24 hours to June 6 due to stormy weather, which also indirectly caused the sinking of the minesweeper USS Osprey. Additionally, an American tank landing craft, United States LCT2498, broke down and subsequently capsized and sank in the vicious swell.

Mother Nature, not the Germans dealt the first blows against Operation Overlord. Nevertheless, D-Day and the Allied forces arrived at the beaches of Normandy with full force on the morning of June 6.

Canadian Red Devils arrive

The crack 1st Canadian Parachute Battalion led by Lieutenant-Colonel G.F.P. Bradbrooke was part of the tough and tumble 3rd Brigade of the British 6th Airborne Division whose members were nicknamed “Red Devils”. The Canadian Red Devils dropped into France after 1 a.m. on June 6, an hour before the arrival of the rest of the brigade, with the aim of securing the DZ (Drop Zone), capturing the enemy headquarters located at the site and destroying the local radio station at Varaville. They were the first Canadian unit to arrive in France.

After that, the Canadians were to destroy vehicle bridges over the Dives River and its tributaries at Varaville. Having done that, they were to neutralize various fortified positions at the crossroads. Additional responsibilities included protecting the left (southern) flank of the 9th Battalion as the battalion assaulted the enemy gun battery at Merville. Upon completing that, the Canadians were to hold a strategically important position at the Le Mesnil crossroads.

Remarkably, the Canadian paratroopers had accomplished all they set out to do by mid-day on June 6.

3rd Division’s Normandy adventure

The Canadian Army’s 3rd Canadian Division, led Major General R.F. “Rod” Keller, along with the 2nd Canadian Armoured Brigade under the command of Brigadier R.A. Wyman, formed part of General Miles Dempsey’s 2nd British Army.

The Canadians, numbering just over 14,000, came ashore at Juno Beach. The five-mile wide Juno Beach was divided into two primary sectors, Mike and Nan. In turn, each of these was sub-divided into smaller sections denoted by the sector name followed by a colour. Many heroic deeds were performed on the first day at Juno Beach. The Allies had come to expect nothing less. The relentless pursuit of the Canadian Army’s objectives was measured in human currency; of the 14,000 Canadians who stormed Juno Beach, 340 were killed, 574 were wounded and 49 were captured by the defending Germans.

This was a small comfort, considering planners had predicted a much higher casualty rate.

The 3rd Canadian Infantry Division* comprised the following units:

7th Canadian Infantry Brigade

Royal Winnipeg Rifles

Regina Rifle Regiment  

Canadian Scottish Regiment

8th Canadian Infantry Brigade

Queen's Own Rifles of Canada

Le Régiment de la Chaudière

North Shore (New Brunswick) Regiment

9th Infantry Brigade

HIghland Light Infantry of Canada

Stormont, Dundas, and Glengarry Highlanders

Nova Scotia Highlanders

Cameron Highlanders of Ottawa (M.G.)  

7th Reconnaissance Regiment

17th Duke of York's Royal Canadian Hussars

Divisional Royal Canadian Artillery

12th Field Regiment, Royal Canadian Artillery

13th Field Regiment, Royal Canadian Artillery

14th Field Regiment, Royal Canadian Artillery

19th Army Field Regiment, Royal Canadian Artillery

3rd Anti-Tank Regiment, Royal Canadian Artillery

4th Light Anti-Aircraft Regiment, Royal Canadian Artillery  

Divisional Royal Canadian Engineers

5th Field Company, Royal Canadian Engineers

6th Field Company, Royal Canadian Engineers

16th Field Company, Royal Canadian Engineers

18th Field Company, Royal Canadian Engineers

3rd Canadian Field Park Company, Royal Canadian Engineers

3rd Canadian Divisional Bridge Platoon, Royal Canadian Engineers

Royal Canadian Corps of Signals

3rd Infantry Divisional Signals

Royal Canadian Army Service Corps

3rd Infantry Divisional Troops Company  

Royal Canadian Army Medical Corps

14 Field Ambulance

22 Field Ambulance

23 Field Ambulance  

2nd Canadian Armoured Brigade

6th Canadian Armoured Regiment (1st Hussars)

10th Canadian Armoured Regiment (Fort Garry Horse)

27th Armoured Regiment (Sherbrooke Fusiliers)

* Units of the Royal Canadian Electrical and Mechanical Engineers and the Royal Canadian Ordnance Corps also provided vital support during the landings.

British units that supported the Canadian landing on Juno Beach

48 Royal Marine Commando

4th Special Service Brigade

26th Assault Squadron

80th Assault Squadron

5th Assault Regiment, Royal Engineers

6th Assault Regiment, Royal Engineers

Two detachments of the 22nd Dragoons, 79th Armoured Division

3rd Battery 2nd Royal Marine Armoured Support Regiment

4th Battery, 2nd Royal Marine Armoured Support Regiment

“C” Squadron, Inns of Court Regiment

“Ready Aye Ready”

The Royal Canadian Navy was extremely active before and during the first day of Operation Overlord.  

A force of 19 corvettes was assigned to provide escort service to the many ships and floating docks heading for assembly points on the south coast of England Eleven frigates, nine destroyers and five corvettes were seconded to the Royal Navy to provide an ASDIC (anti-submarine detection investigation committee) screen around the western approaches to the English Channel one week before the invasion date. This was to guard against the constant German U-Boat threat.

Only hours before the invasion, Canadian “Bangor” Class minesweepers cleared shipping lanes of mines and then ensured that the anchorage swept clear. The last part of their assignment was to sweep the lanes for the assault boats, right to the limit of the deep water. While under a moonlit sky, they crept within a mile and a half (2.4 kilometres) of shore, pretty well under the noses of the unsuspecting Germans.

Fortunately, they were not spotted; German coastal artillery guns would have made mincemeat of them.

The RCN’s two landing ships, HMCS Prince Henry and HMCS Prince David, carried 14 landing craft (LCI or landing craft, infantry) to a point where they could be launched for the run into the beachhead. In the British sector, 30 “Fleet” class destroyers, including HMCS Algonquin and HMCS Sioux, provided direct fire support for the landing craft carrying part of the 3rd Canadian Infantry Division after they were launched from the landing ships.

Mines and other underwater obstructions were a constant threat to the landing craft and few escaped without some sort of damage. Leading the second wave were 26 landing craft of the RCN’s 260th, 262nd and 264th Flotillas. These flotillas were carrying a combined force of 4,617 soldiers, primarily from the 3rd Canadian Infantry Division. Six speedy and deadly MTBs (motor torpedo boat) were assigned to patrol the Seine estuary. RCN corvettes would go on to escort additional convoys into Baie de la Seine during the rest of the day. Naval losses were described as “incredibly light”, especially considering how many enemy long-range naval guns and other weapons were still operational at the time of the landings.

The following RCN vessels took part in the invasion of Normandy:

Tribal class destroyer

HMCS Haida

HMCS Huron

V class destroyer

HMCS Algonquin

HMCS Sioux

River class destroyer (British)

HMCS Gatineau

HMCS Kootenay

HMCS Qu’Appelle

HMCS Ottawa (II)

HMCS Chaudière

HMCS Restigouche

HMCS Skeena

HMCS St. Laurent

Mackenzie Class Destroyer Escort

HMCS Saskatchewan

River class frigate

HMCS Meon

HMCS Teme

River class frigate (1942-1943 program)

HMCS Cape Breton

HMCS Grou

HMCS Matane

HMCS Outremont

HMCS Port Colberne

HMCS Saint John

HMCS Swansea

HMCS Waskesiu

Flower class corvette (1939-1940)

HMCS Alberni

HMCS Baddeck

HMCS Camrose

HMCS Drumheller

HMCS Louisburg (II)

HMCS Lunenburg

HMCS Mayflower

HMCS Moose Jaw

HMCS Summerside

HMCS Prescott

Revised Flower class corvette

HMCS Mimico

Revised Flower class corvette (1940-1941 program)

HMCS Calgary

HMCS Kitchener

HMCS Port Arthur

HMCS Regina

HMCS Woodstock

Revised Flower class corvette (1942-1943 program)

HMCS Lindsay

Troop landing ship

HMCS Prince David

HMCS Prince Henry

Bangor class minesweeper

HMCS Bayfield

HMCS Guysborough

Bangor class minesweeper (1940-1941 regular program)

HMCS Vegreville

Bangor class minesweeper (1941-1942 program)

HMCS Kenora

HMCS Mulgrave

29th Motor Torpedo Boat (MTB) Flotilla

MTBs 459, 460, 461, 462, 463, 464, 465 and 466

65th Motor Torpedo Boat (MTB) Flotilla

MTBs 726, 727, 735, 736, 743, 744, 745, 747, 748

260th Landing Craft Infantry (Large) Flotilla

LCI(L)s 117, 121, 166, 177, 249, 266, 271, 277, 285, 298 and 301

262nd Landing Craft, Infantry (Large) Flotilla

LCI(L)s 115, 118, 125, 135, 250, 252, 262, 263, 270, 276, 299 and 306

264th Landing Craft, Infantry (Large) Flotilla

LCI(L)s 255, 288, 295, 302, 305, 310 and 311

528th Landing Craft, Assault (LCA) Flotilla

LCAs 736, 850, 856, 925, 1021, 1033, 1371 and 1372

529th Landing Craft, Assault (LCA) Flotilla

LCAs 1957, 1059, 1137, 1138, 1150, 1151, 1374 and 1375

Per Ardua Ad Astra

It was a maximum effort for the crews of Bomber Command’s 6 (RCAF) Group on the night of June 5-6, 1944. A force of 190 aircraft, comprising Avro Lancaster and Handley Page Halifax four-engine heavy bombers, flew 230 sorties in support of pre-invasion operations. A large number of targets were struck, with particular attention paid to the German coastal artillery emplacements on the beachhead. In all, more than 870 tons of high explosives were dropped for the loss of one Canadian Halifax.

RCAF fighter and fighter-bomber squadrons went into action providing support to the Canadian ground forces as the invasion kicked into high gear. The aerial activity over Normandy resembled swarms of locusts—the planes seemed to keep coming with no end in sight. An estimated 1,000 aircraft from 39 of the 42 Royal Canadian Air Force squadrons stationed overseas took on the aerial support of the invasion with roles ranging bombing, air superiority, ground attack and photo reconnaissance.

The following Royal Canadian Air Force squadrons were involved in pre-invasion activities and in support of the actual invasion.

For more information about the squadrons involved in D-Day, their aircraft and their roles, visit “Who was in the air on D-Day?”

SECOND TACTICAL AIR FORCE

No. 83 Group

39 (RCAF) Reconnaissance Wing

400 “City of Toronto” (Fighter Reconnaissance) Squadron

414 “Sarnia Imperials” (Fighter Reconnaissance) Squadron 

430 “City of Sudbury” (Fighter Reconnaissance) Squadron

126 (RCAF) Fighter Wing

401 “Ram” (Fighter) Squadron

411 “Grizzly Bear” (Fighter) Squadron

412 “Falcon” (Fighter) Squadron

127 (RCAF) Fighter Wing

403 “Wolf” (Fighter) Squadron

416 “Lynx” (Fighter) Squadron

421 “Red Indian” (Fighter) Squadron

143 (RCAF) Fighter Wing

438 “Wild Cat” (Fighter-Bomber) Squadron

439 “Westmount” (Fighter-Bomber) Squadron

440 “City of Ottawa” (Fighter-Bomber) Squadron

144 (RCAF) Fighter Wing

441 “Silver Fox” (Fighter) Squadron

442 “Caribou” (Fighter) Squadron

443 “Hornet” (Fighter) Squadron

No. 85 Group

142 (Night Fighter) Wing

402 “City of Winnipeg” (Fighter) Squadron

148 (Night Fighter) Wing (RAF)

409 “Nighthawk” (Night Fighter) Squadron

149 (Night Fighter) Wing (RAF)

410 “Cougar” (Night Fighter) Squadron

AIR DEFENCE OF GREAT BRITAIN

10 Group

406 “Lynx” (Night Fighter) Squadron

11 Group

418 “City of Edmonton” (Intruder) Squadron

ALLIED STRATEGIC AIR FORCE

RAF Bomber Command / 6 (RCAF) Group

408 “Goose” (Bomber) Squadron

419 “Moose” (Bomber) Squadron

420 “Snowy Owl” (Bomber) Squadron

424 “Tiger” (Bomber) Squadron

425 “Alouette” (Bomber) Squadron

426 “Thunderbird” (Bomber) Squadron

427 “Lion” (Bomber) Squadron 

428 “Ghost” (Bomber) Squadron

429 “Bison” (Bomber) Squadron

431 “Iroquois” (Bomber) Squadron

432 “Leaside” (Bomber) Squadron

433 “Porcupine” (Bomber) Squadron

434 “Bluenose” (Bomber) Squadron

RAF Bomber Command / 8 (Pathfinder) Group

405 “Vancouver” (Bomber) Squadron

RAF Coastal Command / 15 (General Reconnaissance) Group

422 “Flying Yachtsman” (General Reconnaissance) Squadron

423 (General Reconnaissance) Squadron

RAF Coastal Command / 16 Group

 415 “Swordfish” (Torpedo Bomber) Squadron

RAF Coastal Command / 19 (General Reconnaissance) Group

404 “Buffalo” (Coastal Fighter) Squadron

407 “Demon” (General Reconnaissance) Squadron

Conclusion

All in all, Canadian combatants from all three services gave an outstanding account of themselves on the first day of the battle. They would continue to distinguish themselves by dogged determination and selfless acts of heroism, helping write the final chapter and finally closing the book on the Third Reich’s so-called one thousand-year reign.

[succiducus]

the advisor's gaze follows her's toward the nestled corners where conversations were being held and in the middle of the hall where they were yelling their conversations a little too loudly for his liking. under the new division of the scottish monarchy came the challenge of learning the ins and out of all four rulers whom he played advisor to and keeping tabs on their opinions while not getting lines crossed and voices mixed. this was no easy task when claire's new found brazenness. he worried she would get herself into trouble; rich coming from him, he supposed. "your majesty, might i suggest we build allies instead of enemies during our stay in fasil ghebbi? playing god will get us nowhere but perhaps drawn into a war that we are not suited for financially or in military power. if word gets out that scotland is playing many sides, our enemies could use it against us or worse, accuse us of being exactly what you fear - revolutionaries."

Claire's eyes began to move about the room, examining each conversation as one could practically see the essays and letters being drafted in her mind. Some were flirting while others seemed deep in conversation. Some were getting drunk off of the wine while others were speaking as though a wall were between them. "It only matters what they believe," she instructed, only her eyebrows doing the pointing as she kept her hands relaxed and poised at her sides, "If one believes them to be a sign of peace, then I think I should make strides toward peace... but if one believes it to be a sign of war, then might we make the most of the seeds of doubt?"

[juliestacy]

$590 million Powerball winner sues son, claims he and advisor mismanaged winnings

$590 million Powerball winner sues son, claims he and advisor mismanaged winnings

Steve Cannon | AP Powerball winner Gloria C. Mackenzie, 84, left, leaves the lottery office escorted by her son, Scott Mackenzie, after claiming a single lump-sum payment of about $370.9 million before taxes on Wednesday, June 5, 2013, in Tallahassee, Fla.

A pending lawsuit in Florida is a good example of why…

[kevinjona4]

$590M Powerball winner sues son, claims he and advisor mismanaged winnings

$590M Powerball winner sues son, claims he and advisor mismanaged winnings

Steve Cannon | AP

Powerball winner Gloria C. Mackenzie, 84, left, leaves the lottery office escorted by her son, Scott Mackenzie, after claiming a single lump-sum payment of about $370.9 million before taxes on Wednesday, June 5, 2013, in Tallahassee, Fla.

A pending lawsuit in Florida is a good example of why jackpot winners need to choose wisely when deciding who manages their…

[nickyschneiderus]

2016 election stories the ‘Newsroom’ reboot will cover

The Newsroom, a serious show about the pursuit of journalism with protagonists dreamed up in the mind of Jim Acosta after viewing It’s A Wonderful Life, may get a revival. Aaron Sorkin looks out at the small screen and real world and sees a climate ripe for ideas. Big Aaron Sorkin Ideas, which can only be explored through machine-gun fire dialogue as characters walk with task and purpose down a hall to a meeting.

Pay no attention to what Aaron Sorkin says. Even Aaron Sorkin doesn’t buy his denials.

For all The Newsroom‘s faults, it did excel as an interactive experience. So many have such warm nostalgia for yelling at the implausible events and overwrought monologues. It was cathartic, or rage-inducing, tinged with catharsis. The truth of the matter is, most people didn’t watch the show. Those who did treated it like a bit of a vaccine, introducing low-grade smarm and gravitas to the system to build up an immunity.

When the stars align and Sorkin gets less busy, it’s logical that the series will return with a look back at the 2016 presidential campaign, just as the original ripped headlines from two or three years prior for content.

Folks, here are some things that will surely be addressed. Make your peace with it now.

Campaign manager grabs a reporter

The newsroom gang must decide how to play an incident in which Hillary Clinton’s campaign manager gets physical with an ACN embed. An irate MacKenzie scrambles the lifeboats to get the reporter on the first flight back to appear in a splashy primetime sit-down.

McAvoy and Don disagree, believing that JOURNALISM is about the work, not the journalist. An Eleventh Hour compromise to have the interview, but just focus on the news of the day, is reached. It is deeply unsatisfying.

ACN contributor leaks debate question

A former political advisor to Clinton, who has been appearing on panels for ACN, gets caught red-handed feeding debate queries to her old friend. An internal investigation reveals that the information was stolen off MacKenzie’s desk. In a magnanimous and grandstanding fit of both-sidesism, Will decides all the questions will be released ahead of time. “The job of president is not so much a pop quiz as it is an open-book exam,” he opines. “Americans should see which candidate will study up and prepare.”

Charlie Skinner, former Clinton donor’

DrSalvadoctopus/YouTube

Our fearless and incorruptible protagonist may have hobnobbed with both candidates in the past, but that was strictly personal.

This is business. You see, all that time, he was observing. His champagne glass may as well have been a pen. His hors d’voure plate a reporter’s notebook. “The rubbing of elbows is the greasing of sources,”’ he says. Skinner puts on a PR clinic when a photo of he, Trump, both Clintons, Anthony Weiner, and Eliot Spitzer appears in another network’s hit piece. “New York, New York” plays as we fade to black.

Also, he’s not really dead. What????????

Donald Trump tweets a GIF of ACN broadcaster being bodyslammed

During a morning news meeting, a producer notes that anti-ACN rhetoric has subsided a bit. The staff then all get push alerts on their phones and realize the Republican nominee has sent out a social media missive in the form of big-time wrestling. An effort to hide this information from Will yields a surprisingly funny and lighthearted episode chock-full of sight gags and old-timey physical comedy. The Rock, already part of Newsroom canon, guest-stars.

Airing the Access Hollywood tape

Chaos erupts in the newsroom when the stunning Access Hollywood tape comes to light. The women are apoplectic. The men are apoplectic. Will, however, is put in a tough spot because he shares an agent will Billy Bush. Pruitt, in a power move, dictates that none of the language be bleeped out. The Rock, now firmly entrenched in the fabric of this show, again guest-stars as an expert on “locker room talk.”

“Fake News”

Take the bar for righteous indignation and ratchet it up about 28 notches. McAvoy personally pays for 30 minutes of airtime across the networks to decry the term, delivering a tearful and moving diatribe in which he quotes Plato, John Adams, John Lennon, Carl Bernstein, W.C. Fields, Jacob Riis, and Walt Whitman.

Trump plays McAvoy’s Northwestern speech at rallies

In a stunning reveal, we learn Donald Trump created the “Make America Great Again” slogan hours after seeing Will McAvoy’s off-script comments at the Northwestern symposium. He smartly plays it, in full, before campaign rallies as a form of red meat to his base. Pushed into a corner, the ACN anchor conducts a Facebook Live (with some technical difficulties) in which he offers platitudes about the inherent greatness of the USA. “Greatness is the pursuit of greater greatness,” he concludes.

But her emails

Deep fissures take root among the staff as the Clinton email saga finds its way onto broadcast, in one shape or another. Pressure from the C-level to balance coverage takes its toll on producers. Will, however, remains a rock, absolutely poised and ready to gnash his teeth and bemoan the security risk this poses for everyone.

Seem far-fetched? Check out this incredible clip of Jeff Daniels performing in-character and on-demand for Mark Halperin. Either put it in a museum or burn it unceremoniously. There can be no middle ground here.

The Comey letter

Skinner is tipped off that something could be coming, via the FBI, in relation to Anthony Weiner. We see him on a shadowy phone call on the opening scene. He shuffles down to the newsroom to give the crew a heads-up that a letter is coming. There is great gossip about its contents. “Sometimes nothing is something,” McAvoy says while wearing a quarterzip. No one really know what it means but they forge on. America seriously begins to wonder why they hell this on television again.

Election night

Supertsar/YouTube

It’s the season finale. What will happen in the 2016 presidential election? You can only find out by watching The Newsroom three-to-four years later. Will is the only one who believes Trump can win. He makes a wager with MacKenzie on the outcome. She’ll “let him be him” if the Republican pulls the upset.

Jim and Allison reach for a slice of Election Night pizza at the same time and their hands touch. Is this the spark they need? Is it nothing?

The results trickle in. They call Pennsylvania for Trump. The screen goes dark, Sopranos-style, as Coldplay rings out.

Thanks for watching The Newsroom 2.0.

from Ricky Schneiderus Curation https://www.dailydot.com/layer8/the-newsroom-reboot-2016-election/

[succiducus]

a straightened spine quivers around the octaves of foreign command on familiar tongue. abdullah shrugs as a response to the quizzical brows of shuffling soldiers, however, his mind does not swim with possibilities nor his stomach with anxiety. through the emotionless face of commander fergusson, he watches the person written on his heart swim through waves of attraction and frustration. a devilish smirk ticks the corners of his mouth; gaze finds their shoulders; a chuckle leaves his throat at the notion that he had such a power to unravel the thick barbs of control around their mind enough for them to cancel a meeting, straight in the middle of it. "ah, fraser's always been an unruly fellow, he deserves a bit of scarring." the advisor laughs easily now but it changes into innocence. sharp intake of breath; a shake of his head and shrug of shoulders. "i'm afraid that i don't, lamb..." he teases, closing the distance between them now that they were finally alone. tracing the line of their ear, his fingers tickle along the length of jaw, deciding to hold chin between thumb and index finger in finality. abdullah gives them a curious look, headed tilted and the devil staring straight out of dark eyes. "what has my command put in the place of the terror you might've felt? worry? admiration?" he muses thoughtfully. "ah, is it desire?"

All eyes were on them, waiting expectantly for Cailean to rise and deliver a speech that would crush any doubt and ignite the fire for their cause—whatever that cause was. Yet, Cailean remained silent. They saw the way the Scots exchanged glances, waiting. The silence might have lasted only a moment, but it felt eternal. In that moment, Cailean traced circles on Abdullah’s thigh with their fingertips. How long would this charade of theirs last? What would the others say if they found out? Would the trust Cailean had fought for crumble? Would they be forced to retire, to go back home and live a quiet life? Was a quiet life even possible for them?

The sharp sound of Abdullah’s palm against the solid oak table jerked Cailean back to the present, to the stuffy room full of people expecting them to solve all their issues. Their grip on Abdullah tightened when his voice cut through the murmurs around them. Their breath caught in their throat as they watched Fraser’s gaunt face pale under Abdullah’s scolding.

A strange thought crept into Cailean’s mind, causing their chest to tighten. These people who thought they knew everything would never truly know him. They would never see the side of Abby he let them see; the soft side of a hardened man. They would never see the way his eyes lit up when his gaze met theirs across a crowded room as if the whole world outside of them didn’t exist. Nor would they see the small smile upon his lips whenever Cailean trailed kisses down his neck. No, this was a side of him reserved for them and them alone.

When Abdullah finished, the room fell silent. No one dared to speak. “Everyone, get out,” Cailean's voice was calm, and for a second, no one moved, utterly shocked. “Now.” This was enough for everyone to push away from the table, the scraping sound of chairs against the wooden floor echoing around the room. At last, Cailean let go of Abdullah, rising from their seat as if their entire being wasn’t screaming at them for putting distance between them. “Mackenzie, you stay. I need to have a word with you.” The silence of the men was telling as they hurried out of the room. When the door closed behind them and they were alone at last, Cailean could breathe, at last. “I think ye might have scarred him for life… It would have scared me as well if it hadnae been so—” They paused as they turned to him, a shy smile tugging at the corner of their lips. “Well… y’ken.”

[hillcountrytimes]

New Generation Advisors Decreased By $579,458 Its Hornbeck Offshore Services (HOS) Stake; Last Week Silicon Laboratories Inc. (SLAB) Coverage

Among 14 analysts covering Silicon Labs (NASDAQ:SLAB), 10 have Buy rating, 0 Sell and 4 Hold. Therefore 71% are positive. Silicon Labs had 39 analyst reports since July 29, 2015 according to SRatingsIntel. On Wednesday, October 25 the stock rating was maintained by Drexel Hamilton with “Buy”. M Partners maintained Silicon Laboratories Inc. (NASDAQ:SLAB) rating on Wednesday, October 28. M Partners has “Neutral” rating and $50 target. As per Wednesday, October 18, the company rating was maintained by Barclays Capital. M Partners downgraded it to “Neutral” rating and $42 target in Friday, September 25 report. William Blair downgraded the shares of SLAB in report on Thursday, October 29 to “Market Perform” rating. Stifel Nicolaus maintained it with “Buy” rating and $95.0 target in Wednesday, October 11 report. The firm earned “Buy” rating on Wednesday, July 26 by Needham. The firm has “Buy” rating given on Monday, July 10 by Canaccord Genuity. Canaccord Genuity maintained Silicon Laboratories Inc. (NASDAQ:SLAB) on Wednesday, October 25 with “Buy” rating. The stock has “Buy” rating by M Partners on Thursday, October 27. See Silicon Laboratories Inc. (NASDAQ:SLAB) latest ratings:

26/10/2017 Broker: M Partners Rating: Hold New Target: $90.0 26/10/2017 Broker: B. Riley & Co Rating: Buy Old Target: $90 New Target: $115 Maintain 25/10/2017 Broker: Canaccord Genuity Rating: Buy New Target: $98.0 Maintain 25/10/2017 Broker: Drexel Hamilton Rating: Buy New Target: $85.0 Maintain 24/10/2017 Broker: Roth Capital Rating: Buy New Target: $100.0 Maintain 18/10/2017 Broker: Barclays Capital Rating: Overweight Old Target: $72 New Target: $86 Maintain 16/10/2017 Broker: KeyBanc Capital Markets Rating: Hold Maintain 11/10/2017 Broker: Stifel Nicolaus Rating: Buy New Target: $95.0 Maintain 10/10/2017 Broker: Canaccord Genuity Rating: Buy New Target: $95.0 Maintain 06/09/2017 Broker: KeyBanc Capital Markets Rating: Hold Maintain

New Generation Advisors Llc decreased Hornbeck Offshore Services Inc (HOS) stake by 54.95% reported in 2017Q2 SEC filing. New Generation Advisors Llc sold 289,729 shares as Hornbeck Offshore Services Inc (HOS)’s stock declined 45.49%. The New Generation Advisors Llc holds 237,555 shares with $672,000 value, down from 527,284 last quarter. Hornbeck Offshore Services Inc now has $137.46M valuation. The stock increased 1.37% or $0.05 during the last trading session, reaching $3.71. About 431,095 shares traded. Hornbeck Offshore Services, Inc. (NYSE:HOS) has declined 71.10% since December 3, 2016 and is downtrending. It has underperformed by 87.80% the S&P500.

Since June 1, 2017, it had 0 insider purchases, and 1 sale for $142,400 activity. WOOD WILLIAM P had sold 5,000 shares worth $372,250. Hollister John C sold $142,400 worth of stock. The insider Tuttle George Tyson sold $5.62M. $188,625 worth of Silicon Laboratories Inc. (NASDAQ:SLAB) was sold by BOCK WILLIAM G.

Investors sentiment decreased to 1.13 in 2017 Q2. Its down 0.53, from 1.66 in 2017Q1. It is negative, as 31 investors sold Silicon Laboratories Inc. shares while 68 reduced holdings. 31 funds opened positions while 81 raised stakes. 37.24 million shares or 1.87% less from 37.95 million shares in 2017Q1 were reported. Quantbot Techs Lp has invested 0.01% in Silicon Laboratories Inc. (NASDAQ:SLAB). Shelton reported 3,776 shares. Mackenzie Fin holds 0.24% in Silicon Laboratories Inc. (NASDAQ:SLAB) or 620,569 shares. Paradigm Asset Management Lc invested 0% of its portfolio in Silicon Laboratories Inc. (NASDAQ:SLAB). Massachusetts Financial Svcs Ma owns 0.02% invested in Silicon Laboratories Inc. (NASDAQ:SLAB) for 699,027 shares. Rhumbline Advisers has invested 0.01% in Silicon Laboratories Inc. (NASDAQ:SLAB). Columbus Circle Invsts holds 0.08% or 74,311 shares in its portfolio. Ing Groep Nv stated it has 0.01% in Silicon Laboratories Inc. (NASDAQ:SLAB). Oppenheimer Asset Management has invested 0.01% in Silicon Laboratories Inc. (NASDAQ:SLAB). 298,319 are held by Goldman Sachs Group Inc. 637,608 are held by Carlson Cap Lp. Dekabank Deutsche Girozentrale invested in 26,300 shares. Liberty Mutual Group Asset Management holds 0.05% or 16,520 shares in its portfolio. Gsa Partners Llp stated it has 11,406 shares or 0.05% of all its holdings. Metropolitan Life Insur New York stated it has 0.03% of its portfolio in Silicon Laboratories Inc. (NASDAQ:SLAB).

The stock increased 0.16% or $0.15 during the last trading session, reaching $91.25. About 279,474 shares traded or 17.80% up from the average. Silicon Laboratories Inc. (NASDAQ:SLAB) has risen 59.49% since December 3, 2016 and is uptrending. It has outperformed by 42.79% the S&P500.

Silicon Laboratories Inc., a fabless semiconductor company, designs, develops, and markets mixed-signal analog intensive integrated circuits in the United States, China, and internationally. The company has market cap of $3.88 billion. The firm offers Internet of things products, such as 8-bit mixed-signal, 32-bit wireless, and ultra-low-power 32-bit microcontrollers; and wireless connectivity devices comprising a range of integrated and low power transceivers, as well as sensor products, including optical and relative humidity/temperature sensors. It has a 54.41 P/E ratio. It also provides broadcast products, including TV tuners and demodulators, and automotive radio tuners, as well as AM/FM, HD radio, and DAB/DAB+ receivers.

Among 12 analysts covering Hornbeck Offshore (NYSE:HOS), 1 have Buy rating, 2 Sell and 9 Hold. Therefore 8% are positive. Hornbeck Offshore had 19 analyst reports since August 5, 2015 according to SRatingsIntel. Morgan Stanley upgraded it to “Equal-Weight” rating and $12.50 target in Wednesday, April 20 report. On Friday, October 9 the stock rating was initiated by KeyBanc Capital Markets with “Sector Weight”. IBERIA Capital Partners downgraded Hornbeck Offshore Services, Inc. (NYSE:HOS) on Friday, October 30 to “Sector Perform” rating. Barclays Capital maintained Hornbeck Offshore Services, Inc. (NYSE:HOS) on Tuesday, February 23 with “Overweight” rating. The stock of Hornbeck Offshore Services, Inc. (NYSE:HOS) has “Sector Perform” rating given on Friday, October 30 by Iberia Capital Partners. The rating was downgraded by Cowen & Co on Monday, January 11 to “Market Perform”. The stock of Hornbeck Offshore Services, Inc. (NYSE:HOS) has “Market Perform” rating given on Thursday, October 6 by Cowen & Co. Stephens downgraded Hornbeck Offshore Services, Inc. (NYSE:HOS) on Wednesday, March 9 to “Underweight” rating. Howard Weil maintained Hornbeck Offshore Services, Inc. (NYSE:HOS) rating on Friday, February 19. Howard Weil has “Sector Outperform” rating and $12 target. The stock of Hornbeck Offshore Services, Inc. (NYSE:HOS) has “Sell” rating given on Tuesday, March 8 by Clarkson Platou.

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from Stock Market News | HillCountryTimes | Get it Today https://www.hillcountrytimes.com/2017/12/03/new-generation-advisors-decreased-by-579458-its-hornbeck-offshore-services-hos-stake-last-week-silicon-laboratories-inc-slab-coverage/