lurking-latinist - Tumblr blog

[lurking-latinist]

Any suggestions for what I should do in a rural B&B with unexpectedly terrible wifi?

Suggestions are going to have to be in text form because I can't load anything else.

[lurking-latinist]

Alan had Catriona sit by him and wait upon his wants: he made her drink first out of his glass, he surrounded her with continual kind gallantries, and yet never gave me the most small occasion to be jealous; and he kept the talk so much in his own hand, and that in so merry a note, that neither she nor I remembered to be embarrassed.

Alan Breck Stewart: magnificent swordsman, loyal friend, expert wingman.

[lurking-latinist]

can u imagine the chaos that would have erupted if wellard had actually shot sawyer tho. absolute insanity. 4 lieutenants crawling up the walls and no captain. buckly trying to contain a ship of the line on which the captain was just murdered while also trying to find out who it was while also having to, u know, carry out an action or two so the resources spent to send that huge warship off to sea aren’t completely wasted

[lurking-latinist]

I think that if hornblower had regular access to a piano he would attempt to learn to play completely by rote (see note, press key) even though he can’t tell if he’s getting it right or not. That’s what he would do

[lurking-latinist]

Boat media is about isolation and self imposed order, and all it takes to uphold that order. Boat media goes: what if there was a model of society On This Vessel, and there were Rituals to make sure it functions.

[lurking-latinist]

Hornblower is just constantly going: give me more responsibility. I hate this. Give me more. This sucks shit. Give me-

[lurking-latinist]

tfw there’s somebody out there liveblogging a thing you know and they’re almost at That One Part 👀

[lurking-latinist]

rigging & power lines r like siblings i think.

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Funniest thing in the world when people write an AU extremely different from canon, but they’re not willing to give up on the character building it created for their blorbos. Girlies out there fighting for their life recreating a relationship formed on a doomed arctic exploration in 1848 by replicating that same dynamic in a Great British Bake Off AU.

[lurking-latinist]

I've started a charity to raise money for confused or exasperated cowboys. Please consider donating to the What In Foundation

[lurking-latinist]

Post Captain Flora is a very special bear, Monsieur

[lurking-latinist]

every fandom needs this au

Having made but little return on our voyage, pursuing so ceaselessly an ever-retreating sort of whale, and Starbuck being driven to a distracted state by obeying orders which seemed designed to push us further and further from our profitable object, our first mate decided to set up in a different sort of business. The starting capital was supplied by Aunt Charity, who was cheered of any establishment that gave men an opportunity to speak without liquorizing themselves, and might sit at tables and co-labour at their business.  

An ever larger number of soggers were being snaffled up by that expanding Carthage of a New Bedford, and in Nantucket there were a few shoots of a blossoming sort of frivolity, a kittenishness - for a Quaker artist had even been produced, in the person of W. Bradford, whose fine picture “Sealers Crushed In The Ice” can be today admired. 

Some considerable portion of the crew had signed on, out of reverence for Starbuck, and since there was a deal of equipment involved that needed careful handling - “for,” he said, “I shall have no man employed here who is not afraid of a steam wand.”

Oh! It was a fine sight when we were kitted out, and rigged up with benches and fresh paint and scrimshonter decorations; and to my astonishment and the general delight there were women who came to our counter. I made Mrs Hussey a latte; she seeming astonished by such a feat on my part, although you should think that after I’d come back from a three-year voyage she’d think me well able to do whatever I turned my hand to.

Peter Coffin, also - “Well, lads! Greasy luck to you in this - not that your coffee should be greasy, I suppose - not that I would reckon that - and now for me a Quad Grande, Non Fat, Extra Hot Caramel Macchiato Upside Down.”

“Four shots, my good boys,” Starbuck whispered very lowly and earnestly, realising the danger we stood at such an outlandish order, “now mind ye the dial! as hot as you like! There, turn it, now, turn it - that’s the way - ”

But in making this enormous, this red-hot caramel concoction that seemed to have been syruped in the fires of hell - in trying to swing that around and tip it widdershins the poor Barista was almost scalded head to toe, had not Queequeg leapt in and seized it from him. He looked very well in his uniform. 

At last a very curious Nantucketer came around; who had read periodicals on the subject, and considered himself a regular gourmand of this stuff, and came to the counter not to order but ask: "How came you by such beans? by what means? and can you guarantee they are advantageous to the constitution?“

“Sir,” said I, “ I am downright eager to answer these questions,” and so readily did I fulfil my duty, in explaining to him what we were about from the Ottoman Empire downwards, that I did not at first notice our former captain arrive. 

We all greeted him very civilly; we were determined that we should continue on polite and amiable terms and put aside all past incidents, though Tashtego said, if Ahab asked for a shot of blood in his coffee, Tashtego would do no such thing again, and that he would take a smoke break for the entire duration of his visit.

Ahab went straight for the serving station, and searched among the cutlery, at first very glancingly and then in more and more frustrated seriousness of purpose.

“Sir,” said Starbuck, “we have made the more sustainable and socially responsible decision to phase out the plastic straws for a lid which can be widely recycled - sir - ”

For with a burst of unimaginable strength Ahab had ripped the serving station top from its hinges, and exposed the stores we had laid up below. He reached in and drew out great fistfuls of plastic straws.

“Aye, Starbuck,” Ahab said, “ye cannot keep these from me! I shall take every straw I can hold and you shall not oppose it! And I shall take them and throw them every day straight into Nantucket Harbour!“ 

"Slow and steady!” cried Ahab, fixing all of us with the terrible radiance of his eyes, “slow and steady wins the race!”