#129 crew

[wheelerpupfan]

Daily Wheeler (129)

August 17th, 2024

[themagnustournament]

Redemption Round 2 - Match 5

In our fifth match of Redemption Round Two, it’s A Long Way Down (116 Round Two votes, 358 total) against Submerged, which lost its rematch by only 2 votes (250 Round One votes, including both original and rematch)! It’s Vast versus Buried here in the Redemption Rounds!

MAG 075 - A Long Way Down | Spotify - Acast - YT | Wiki | Transcript

Statement of Stephen Walker, regarding his brother's disappearance from the top of Tour Montparnasse.

MAG 129 - Submerged | Spotify - Acast - YT | Wiki | Transcript

Statement of Kulbir Shakya, regarding a flood that occurred around his flat in Hackney.

[blueiscoool]

Painted Scylla Statues Found in Turkey

Excavations in ancient Laodicea have revealed a rare collection of painted Scylla statues.

Laodicea was an Ancient Greek city on the river Lycus, located in the present-day Denizli Province, Turkey.

The city was founded between 261-253 BC by Antiochus II Theos, king of the Seleucid Empire, in honour of his wife Laodice. Over the next century, Laodicea emerged as a major trading centre and was one of the most important commercial cities of Asia Minor.

After the Battle of Magnesia during the Roman–Seleucid War (192–188 BC), control of large parts of western Asia Minor, including Laodicea, was transferred to the Kingdom of Pergamon. However, the entire Kingdom of Pergamon would eventually be annexed by the expanding Roman Republic in 129 BC.

The many surviving buildings of Laodicea include the stadium, bathhouses, temples, a gymnasium, two theatres, and the bouleuterion (Senate House).

Recent excavations led by Prof. Dr. Celal Şimşek from Pamukkale University have revealed a rare collection of painted Scylla statues during restoration works of the stage building in the Western Theatre.

In Greek mythology, Scylla is a man-eating monster who lives on one side of a narrow strait, opposite her counterpart, the sea-swallowing monster Charybdis. The two sides of the strait are so close (within an arrow’s range), that sailors trying to avoid Charybdis’s whirlpools would dangerously come into range of Scylla.

Scylla is first mentioned in Homer’s Odyssey, where Odysseus and his crew encounter both Scylla and Charybdis during their voyage back to Ithica following the conclusion of the Trojan War.

In a press statement by Nuri Ersoy, Minister of Culture and Tourism: “These extraordinary sculptures are quite important in terms of being rare works that reflect the baroque style of the Hellenistic Period and have survived to the present day with their original paints.”

The archaeologists suggest that the sculptures were made by sculptors in Rhodes during the early 2nd century BC and are the oldest known examples from antiquity.

[wyvernest]

cregan stark x f!targaryen!reader

first part - previous part - all chapters list

>>Queen Rhaenyra has sent you away from the brewing war to safety since your brother, Jacaerys, has secured the Pact of Ice and Fire. You have to honor it by marrying Lord Cregan Stark, Warden of the North.

chapter cw: smut, fluff, ANGST, explicit description of a wound

Wind's howling. The sea simmers with wrath and death.

The deck creaks and groans under you like an old beast waking from a decade-long sleep, bones cracking and jaws grinding with vengeance.

There is no crew, no captain. The ship is a wraith, and you, a speck of dust in the darkness.

You step towards the taffrail, looking down into the abyss. Terror washes over you, a raw instinct of deathly peril. Your heart thumps in your ears, and you feel the blood race through you.

Deep below, a wreckage drifts on the tides, carried by charred tongues of fallen beasts, licking its last life away. Atop, a small, frail creature, claws at the damp wood, drained and wounded.

Your throat tightens, a deeply rooted, dreamlike feeling of being bound to the creature rushes through you like wildfire. It tenses and crawls, its blood seeping into the black waters like a frozen breath leaving warm lungs for the last time.

The wind wails louder as you bend forward, seeking help, life, hope, with terror biting at your every sense. You slip over the ledge, and the void swallows you in your fall.

You awaken in your bed, the night barely pierced by the first lances of sunlight through the clouds. The fear slowly retreats, your breathing slowing down.

Cregan is still asleep next to you, lying on his stomach and facing away from you, his hair splayed messily over his shut eyes. You get up, quietly leaving his side to soothe yourself with cold water.

The castle is silent and imperturbable, a welcomed calmness following your nightly terrors. You walk like a ghost through the halls, lulled by the newfound safety, yet your mind is still imprisoned in thought.

Why would I even dream of such things? I cannot recall the last time I saw a ship, I cannot recall the last time I saw a storm at sea.

It is long past four moons since you first arrived in Winterfell, four moons since you last saw Dragonstone, your family, your brothers and sisters. The tenth day of the twelfth moon of 129 A.C. And for four moons, you haven't missed them nearly as much as now.

Perhaps it is the war, the news of Rhaenys, the murder, the unavoidable dread of death that knows no borders. Whatever it is, the dream shook you out of any serenity Cregan has struggled to settle in your heart.

“This is war. And the finality of death harrows even the toughest of men.”

But it was not the harrowing of your heart that woke you now. You would accept the night terrors every time you slept if it meant you could see your family alive and well again.

When you return to your chamber, Cregan shuffles to look at you, still lying down. He smiles, lazy and content, until he notices the strain between your brows, something you did not mean to bring back to him.

“My love?” He calles for you, but you push him back down before he could rise. You fall beside him, letting his warm hand cup your freshly washed cheek. “Did something happen?” His voice is still groggy with sleep, and the closure subdues your bleak worries.

“Just a dream.” You whisper, closing your eyes. His hand brushes over your hair lovingly.

“Tell me.” His hand moves to caress your back, pulling you closer to him.

“There is no need. All is good now.” But is it?

And yet you cast your worries aside when he drags you nearly under him, his free hand running over your waist and hip, dipping into the valley between your thighs. You cast your worries aside when you feel the coarse hair of his abdomen brush up against your belly.

Your mind goes numb when his massive body encompasses yours, as he breathes hotly into your neck, slipping himself inside you lazily; when he whispers to you of how he'll protect you, ah, love, you're mine own now, no harm will come to you.

But when his warmth leaves you, deep in the nights to come, the dreams find you again.

The second time they came with the same black waters, the drifting wreckage, but now shadows danced in the skies. Sinister serpents, prowling like enormous crows above a fresh cadaver. They pushed the clouds beneath them with behemothic wings, and you felt as though the whole night sky was coming down on you, in all its weight and darkness.

You dared look up once, up into the mirroring abyss. And then, you saw it. Through the gloom and mist, a ghost of a citadel atop a sunless hill. Perhaps there are many castles you may confound in such obscurity, but this was not one to be mistaken for something else.

Estrangement, guilt, it was, that claimed you in all these nights. A terrible shame, inexplicable for your position. You were sent North, you did not abandon your cause. But the creature in the sea bled every night, clung to the wreckage every night, and died every night.

It soon became an obsession. And weeks past, well near the end of the twelfth moon, your uneasiness bolts as Cregan receives another raven from Dragonstone.

The flying shadows. - is your first thought upon reading. The serpents swarming the skies. Though the letter should soothe you, with the notion of the Blacks’ forces finally recuperating, all you see is the black sky in a cobweb of smoke and thunderclouds. You see them much clearer; your family’s dragons stalking above the seas like starving vultures.

A broad hand on your lower back makes you turn back to Cregan.

“Word of this reached me shortly before the raven arrived.” He admitted, referring to new riders. “Your brother waited until the last dragon was mounted to write to us, but the people have been spreading the news like the plague ever since he first called for willing men.”

An overwhelming feeling of helplessness muffles out his voice. It's all amounting to the dream.

“They have fighting dragons.”

“You have fighting dragons, beloved. I dared not believe it without his testimony.”

You force yourself to smile at him, laying your head on his collarbone, the message still in hand.

“This is wonderful news.”

He kisses your forehead, taking the small scroll away. You briefly rub your fingers in its loss, as if the news had burnt your very skin.

“I am glad to know that I was able to please you, as well.” He remarks smugly, his tone laced with the honest surprise of seeing your brother quite literally tell on you.

Sudden nervousness momentarily rips you from the illusions of your distress. You scrunch up your face, as if you hadn’t already given him your maidenhead.

“Few brides have the comfort of wedding handsome men. Fewer, able men, and even fewer kind men. But …” You trail off, taunting his patience. He gazes at you, eyes squinted, the corners of his mouth ever so slightly raised. Even as a wolf, he often times held the cunning gaze of a fox, which amused you to no end, for you know it was only reserved for you. How he had the talent of drawing you out of dark thoughts with nothing but a jest or a tease.

“Well, don’t stop now.” His voice went down an octave, now sly and intimate.

“But to gain all three …” You kiss his cheek, dangerously close to his mouth.

His arms wrap around you in response. “To find yourself next to a man so strong-” another kiss, on his jaw. “- so resourceful -” another, on his lips, but so hasty that he doesn’t catch it.

“ - and yet so considerate and gentle. You hard warriors have no idea how important that is.” You stop, softly pushing him away to speak, your tone masquerading a scold. “You think it’s enough to butcher away any foes and any peril. But after that…” a kiss on the bridge of his nose. He looks at you like you’re preaching the word of gods. “ - to be able to lie in his arms, to know that these hands, that bathe in blood to protect her, will only ever touch her to caress, to fondle, to hold so dearly.” Your voice spills into seriousness, and he heeds your confession.

“That is when she truly feels safe.” You smile at him, accentuating your discourse by playfully shaking him twice by his shoulders. “And to have that, is more than any woman bargains with the gods for.”

He kisses your face, the slyness faded from his eyes.

“...And I can’t say you don’t look the part.”

He giggles, and your heart beats a little faster.

“I did not yet have the chance to truly protect you, love.” He corrects, and your heart sinks at his humble words, or more so at the recollection of your worries. “I haven’t yet spilt blood for you. Trust that I will , should the occasion arise.” That was no longer a jest, you realise. “And afterwards …” He leans into you, and seeing you do nothing to flee, he kisses your neck. “I’ll hold you, however you want, wife.”

Tonight you can barely shut your eyes without your heart thumping in your chest. After tossing and turning beside your husband, tiredness finally takes you and the visions creep over.

The nightsky rains with arrows. They snap and ring against the wooden shipwrecks like so many sharp teeth of jaws closing in on utter desolation.

Faceless, weightless, you step on the waters while the black wings dance and stalk restlessly, as the shafts hit the debris in a cacophony of wails, winds, tides crashing and roars of wrath.

And in this moment, it feels as though this cut is too deep even for time to mend. This place would never recover from such decay. Chaos has conquered the bay, irreversibly.

Death itself growls in the heavens above, blocking out the light of the moon. The sea heeds the call and drowns whatever escaped its claws, and the Red Keep stands still and cold and silent on the shores, an ill omen of rot and ruin.

The man on the rubble is dead. A snapped arrow coated in blood bore into his neck, the impact twisting his upper spine so unnaturally that he lies lifelessly atop the wreckage like a mayhem of boneless limbs discarded.

Only a hand quivers away in agony, the last semblance of a decapitated animal’s tremble.

You stomach turns.

Jacaerys!

You awaken in a sweat, with a shriek that rips Cregan from his slumber as well.

“ ‘S alright, come here, you're safe.” He cradles your still shivering hands to his chest, running a hand over your hair and back.

“ ‘m sorry.” You speak, muffled, remorseful and ashamed.

“It's no fault of yours.”

“...Cregan?”

You whisper, your limbs still tangled with each other. He hums, as attentive as he always is. The sun is just starting to show, and the dimness of the morning makes him look astonishingly beautiful.

“Would you do anything to shield me from pain?”

“ ‘course I would. What do you need of me?”

You hesitate. You know he would forbid you from fleeing, though you can not bring yourself to hide from your husband any longer. Whatever needs to be done, you ought to discuss it together.

“I need to fly South.”

There is a moment of complete silence. His face, for all you’ve grown to know, is now as impenetrable as The Wall. You cannot tell if you, indeed, sense anger or if it is only your expectations, for asking such a thing. You both get up as tension becomes unbearable.

“My men are already gathering at the White Harbour.” He speaks with patience and softness, understanding of your predicament, though stern and clearly unwavering. “In Barrowton.” He continues, “Roderick Dustin should be ready to march by week’s end. I-”

“ ‘Should’, and ‘by week’s end’…” You repeat to yourself in sorrow, too late releasing you quite rudely interrupted him. But the urgency of the issue can no longer afford gentleness nor much civility. “My family needs me, now. I dreamt of it, Cregan. You must believe me! And even if it’s wanton, even if the peril is still at bay, then I shall return safely. You mustn’t worry.”

“Wife.” His tone is demanding. It silences you, but deep in your heart you loathe him for it. You loathe him because of your dreams, because of the war, because greybeards can only ride so fast and so far, and will definitely not head for The Blackwater Bay.

“I have faith in your courage.” He begins, still holding you, yet the frost in his gaze is anew. “I do not doubt your loyalty. But as husband, I cannot allow you to risk such a thing. As warden, I cannot allow you to forsake the Queen’s command.”

“That’s your desire to protect me!” You speak hastily until your voice breaks, yet you go on. “What of me? How am I to live on knowing I could have saved someone so dear?! How am I to live with the remainder that I saw what would happen and did nothing?!”

“Dreams can be bad omens. But what if it was nothing more than a dream?” His voice escalates into the clear image of your demise in his mind. “What if you die for nothing? How would I live with that? Knowing I could have prevented it?”

“Cregan.” You brush an arm over his shoulder.

“I will say no more. You are not leaving Winterfell.” It is a command. And yet you hear him mumble, “I can’t lose you.”

Your heart sinks into your chest, and your throat tightens with unspoken pleas and cries.

Fortunately for you, Cregan is a heavy sleeper. He was still off soundly when you roused, during the hour of the wolf.

He was still undisturbed when you gently kissed his cheek, as an apology and farewell. He was unmoved when you slipped out of bed, changed into riding skirts and threw chainmail over your chemise and underneath the leather cloak.

“Lady Stark.” A reverential voice echoes in the halls when you depart from your shared bedchamber. For a heartbeat, your blood freezes at the thought that Cregan might, at last, awaken because of it.

“I have orders from Lord Stark to ensure your safety. Allow me to accompany you.”

“Oh, there's no need. I only mean to clear my mind on the battlements.”

Before he could reply, you turn your back to him and stroll off to the winding stairs. Your footsteps feel heavy, heavier than your masked armour, heavier than the dagger at your belt.

The cold, high winds hit your face as you reach the top of the castle. The merlons thin out the howling of winter gusts, but the cold dread is no less horrifying.

“Māzīs! Aderī!” (Come! Quick!)

The Godswood shivers with the call, but it does not matter. No one in the yard could be fast enough to catch you now.

Soon enough, a high pitched shriek answers as a slithering, white ghost of a cloud emerges from behind the high walls of Winterfell.

The silence of the night wails, broken, as Suvion brings his wings down, and with one, two swings, he's landing atop the tower, his hawk claws scraping the stone.

He brings his head to you, slightly frenzied by your tone and distress.

His icy scales shine with the dampness of the snow he had been dousing in, and his sheer beauty in the moonlight soothes you. He has grown. His wings are stronger. The cold had hardened him, as it did me.

“Sister!”

You halt, right before mounting.

“Sara.”

“Off on a nightly prowl?” she jests, but the moment she comes closer, eyeing your attire, her playful smile fades.

“Tell Cregan” you hesitate, pondering, “-to tell the lords he sent me on a secret scouting mission.”

She frowns, disheartened, lost, confused. After a few beats of unbearable ache, she speaks, as icy as Cregan had.

“Did you loathe it all from the beginning?”

“Sara, I cannot-”

“Is this what you'd always hoped to do?”

It's not an accusation. It's forlornness. Betrayal, and the grief of it.

“If I don't go, I will carry this burden with me for the rest of my life.”

She remains silent, but even Suvion twitches at the sound of her soft weep. You mount, shivering, with the cold, with regret, with doubt and fear, and guilt.

“If I do not return by the new moon's end, I loved him. Tell him I loved him. Tell him it's not his fault.”

With nothing but the sound of his wings, Suvion takes off from the tower.

a/n: that was quite the chapter

@ohsnapitzmarvelficrec @crypticlxrsh @louiselouve @karmaswitch @just-pure-trash @yujyujj @cost234 @dracaryxzs @cherrymallowtm @lady-targaryens-world @lightdragonrayne @krokietino @sukunassfinger @ithilwen-blackwood @rey26 @beebeechaos @melsunshine @aemondwhoresworld @romeavecryst @raynetargaryan2 @fireandblood-mharmie @mitski9328373 @drwho-ess @dorkysupernova @nitimurinvetitumsposts @ghitakhnifissa @darylspersonalwhore @helo1281917 @delaynew @poochies04 @accidentpronedork @fiction-fanfic-reader @rha3nyra @wallacewillow0773638 @star-serpent @potionsclub @moadvx @jellybeanstacey0519 @italianchameleon @ephemeralninon @sithapprentice @cloveradora @hawkins-2000 @thatspiderwebinthecorner @wolvestitches @idohknow @nyxbranwenn @asteria33 @nina6708 @r-3dlips

[even-in-arcadia]

A Consideration of 1st Lt. Edward Little of HMS Terror (As Played by Matthew McNulty)

The thing about Lt. Edward Little is that he had the highest ideals and yet was set up in so many ways to fail them.  

We occasionally see glimpses of the man Edward Little must have been in order to be appointed First Lieutenant on a very prestigious expedition: reliable, capable, stalwart. 

(Continued below the cut, as this got very long)

He had that, before, when he was doing the job he was trained for, ie running a ship at sea.  What he hasn’t been trained for at all is managing 129 126 119 105 ? men stuck in pack ice in endless night, later trudging over ice and shale, trying to keep them busy and out of trouble and from getting killed by a demon bear.  Of course he’s out of his depth, but honestly aren’t most of them?  Of the lieutenants Gore (RIP) is the only one who seems to be in his element and he’s the only one with Arctic experience so that tracks.  Even Le Vesconte is getting by on charisma and the power of peer pressure, neither of which actually make for competent officering.  So that’s the scene he’s stuck in, and no wonder he’s out of his depth.  

Then we have the circumstances specific to Edward Little.  He's spent the first two-plus years of the voyage as the first for a captain who is very depressed and increasingly alcoholic. As Crozier's state deteriorates and especially after Franklin dies, Little has to tread a very fine and somewhat blurry line. He has to cover for Crozier, picking up the slack that is inevitably dropped; he also has to prop Crozier up in such a way that his leadership as Captain isn't undermined with the crew. A big part of both of those is making sure that the right questions are being asked, that all practicalities are being factored in, but he has to ask those questions without seeming to question Crozier’s authority. Thus he must essentially be an acting captain without seeming to do so either to the men or to Crozier . He is not someone who wants power per se; in fact I think what he wants most is to be a good and competent 1st Lt. But because he's under an semi-incapacitated captain, he has no choice but to take on some of that power while appearing to be no more than a loyal lieutenant. He's leading without being seen to lead, and he's already seen Crozier flog three men for among other things insubordination and disrespect (and without due process).

Crozier has also put him in a position of having to lie - both directly and by omission! For example, when questioned he tells Fitzjames (who outranks him) "much to do on Terror is all” - leaving JFJ to draw his own conclusions on the source of that “much” and the extent to which it is falling on Little.  The instruction to procure more whiskey “discreetly” is nearly if not actually insulting in how far below Little's rank it is.  Having to do it “discreetly” is even worse.  He is being treated as an errand boy, and not just an errand boy but one tasked with something that is clearly unsavory, even illicit.   By ordering him to to this, he makes Little complicit in the very vice that is causing all of these problems, and Little by virtue of his position is unable to refuse any of these direct orders, even ones that are way below his station. (The fact that Jopson, Crozier's actual steward who was actually in charge of these things, was not given that task is also telling although I’m not sure of what - perhaps that Crozier wanted someone who outranked the Erebus’ steward to do the asking; perhaps that he felt some shame in asking Jopson.)

Through all of this, Little is having to cover for a man who continues to lose his own respect in ways both large and small, personal and professional. Crozier has endangered the crew for which Little feels himself bound to care - leading directly to Blanky losing his leg - and has spoken flippantly of the situation ("How fares the raft of the Medusa?"). In 1x04, he is clearly galled by both the disregard of due process and severity of Hickey’s punishment.  (While both are not unstandard in the Navy, Crozier’s manner makes it seem like spite as much as anything - which I’m sure Little clocked.)  Overall, Little observes him making inebriated decisions that are based as much on his internal demons as any the practicalities at hand while men continue to die under his watch. This erosion of trust will come back to haunt them all, because even when its causes have been overcome, the deep root and the effects are there. (JFJ gets to have reckonings with Crozier and say his piece in a way that Little never does or will.)

Edward Little also cares deeply about the welfare of his men, perhaps more than anything. Command is a responsibility not just to the navy but to those whose lives his decisions affect. And so he as he sees this disregard for them (and for himself) he is angry, and he is in a profession and position where one is not allowed to be angry with one's superiors. So he spends a lot of his time pretending that he is not quietly furious while carrying out orders that he knows he shouldn't be, and hiding it from everyone , even Fitzjames, because he is also, deep in his heart, loyal (even if he feels it is unearned) and married to Naval structures.  Crozier and JFJ have their reckoning, but Little never gets that, because subordinates aren’t allowed to be angry.  

This combination, the lack of trust both given and received, the anger, the care & loyalty, the necessity to fill the void in leadership, means that he asks a lot of questions . A well placed "Are you sure, sir?" can go a long way. "Yes, but--" is not a phrase that would often have been uttered to a commander by a lieutenant, but Little has not just earned but hard won the right to say it.  Every time he questions Crozier, I think it is out of a sense of duty, not defiance. A duty to the expedition, to Crozier, and above all to the men, because for so long Crozier’s judgement was not something he was able to rely on. He can’t even attend a sunrise party without thinking of the supplies that are being used up! 

To top everything off, he also never appears to be someone who is particularly congenial nor gregarious, he is very aware of his rank, and is competent while not being loved (except by me).  I like to imagine that he and Jopson and Macdonald were able to commiserate in some way as Crozier was going through his detox.  But everyone is so conscious of class & rank & secrets being guarded that it seems unlikely that anyone actually confided in each other. By getting dry and in such dramatic fashion, Crozier earns back his loyalty & respect, but by doing so in secret I wonder if he hasn't further eroded Little's relationship with the other lieutenants.  Do they even know Crozier is drying out or is Little lying to them as well as to the entire rest of the crew?  Little does not seem like a man who cares for lying, and covering up the captain's "gastritis" would only have made Little feel more cut off and burdened by the captain's confidence. (To say nothing of the fact that all of this is going on with the Tuunbaaq in the background - these lieutenants were not designed to contend with alcoholic spirits let alone the spirit world.)

 Crozier’s trust does often  end up being more burden than anything, and it’s beyond the responsibility that would normally come with his rank. That moment when he practically shoves the pistol away from him is so telling of this.  We really were robbed of the moment when Little is so angry after leaving Crozier that he can’t even slam his door: because that’s what’s building up this entire time!  

By covering for Crozier both before and during his sobering up, Little probably lost some of his authority over the crew. They know he's hiding something, and that earns some distrust. He's obviously worn out, and there must be some observation that Crozier is literally using him as an errand boy. In the best of circumstances the commanding-without-commanding is a hard line to walk while maintaining one’s own air of authority. He's also angry, and in working so hard to cover and subdue his anger, what he's left with is the "sad, wet man" that fandom has dubbed him. The crew may not know exactly what’s going on (although what do those men have to do besides gossip) but they must have sensed how Little is being worn away. As much as he cares for them, he wouldn’t fraternize - it seems like he barely fraternizes in the wardroom.  (Which is why that moment of camaraderie with Jopson outside Crozier’s cabin is so important to me personally.) 

That brings us to the mutiny.  We may love a sad, wet man, but in the face of a charismatic mutineer he's never going to match up. He doesn't have the authority, the love of the crew, or really the energy to go against it. At this point, he has no reason to know or suspect that a mutiny is what's the offing in the first place! He is someone who wants to believe the best of his men, and he's been given no reason to doubt Tozer's motives. And what was he supposed to do in the face of a marine sergeant surrounded by frightened, armed men?  They are clearly on edge and afraid, a dangerous combination.  He is practical, and although ultimately it loses him even more face by going along with Tozer, he was never going to be able to stop that in its tracks. Even JFJ wasn’t able to reel back in what had already been done.  So he chooses the pragmatic route: agree publicly to the logic, let Tozer do with him what he's been doing with Crozier, in making the subordinate's idea appear to be the superior's. With the situation and facts at hand, what else is he to do? 

The irony is that Little has been quietly looking out for all of them and their best interests for so long; but because it was so quiet, an undercurrent, when it comes down to brass tacks, none of them have ever seen that, or feel that they owe him any respect or loyalty. Tozer and Hickey appear to be men of action, and unfortunately in a moment like this a group of frightened men is going to follow the one who appears strongest. 

I also want to point out that Crozier specifically says *while the fog holds off*. Well the fog has rolled in! The situation changed! Crozier clearly has suspicions of Hickey and Tozer that he hasn't confided to Little, and whose fault is that! When it comes to investigating Irving’s and Farr’s murders, Little asks what the evidence is, which suggests to me that he has no knowledge of any concerns about Hickey that have arisen post-lashing.  Again, he is inclined to trust them.

One of the realest moments we get from him is "I'm the worst kind of sorry." It's one of the very few times he breaks from naval demeanor. The worst kind because he feels it deeply, but also because he was stuck, and he knows it, and also knows the expectations both from himself and from others that he be Better.

What it comes down to is what he says to Hodgson: "All we have are our instincts and training. If both told you to proceed with what you ordered, then be easy with yourself." That is all Little has had for so long. He certainly doesn’t seem to be having heart to hearts with Irving and Hodgson, let alone JFJ and Crozier; his counterpart on Erebus is long gone.  Who has he to confide in, especially at this juncture of events, when there are no clear paths and no right answers. I imagine this is what he told himself over and over in the long watches of the night.  

And yet!! Matthew McNulty has said that “Little's probably one of the most hopeful out of them all. [...] He still thinks that humanity will prevail in this dark, dark world.”  I’m not sure where to put this, but I think it’s important.  I think it’s part of why he doesn’t always quite have the authority he should: poor, worn down Edward Little sees the best and hopes for the best, and can’t quite reckon that not everyone has the same moral compass he does.  That’s why Tozer & Hickey get the best of him, because he wants to believe the best of them.  He doesn’t compromise his moral compass or belief in humanity, and unfortunately that turns into a blind spot.I think it’s also why Tozer invites him to join them: because some part of him recognizes that they both have that idealism deep down.  They are both doing their best in an inconceivable situation to cling to hope and take care of those they see as under their protection. It pains me to think what they could have accomplished had they worked together rather than against each other. 

(Incidentally, I don’t believe Little ever would have been swayed to join them, but I can’t blame him for the fact that Tozer’s claim about Crozier leaving them gave him pause.  He’s seen Crozier finally grow into a commander he can respect, but to find out that Crozier’s judgment was not just impaired for so long but extended to actively planning to abandon ship & crew, as Tozer frames, as he was working so hard to hold things together - even if he doesn’t believe it, in his heart of course there must have been some doubt.) 

All of these, the erosion of respect, the concern, the exhaustion, the lack of direction and support, the HOPE, come together in a moment for which he (unjustly, in my opinion) gets vilified for: 

We’ve slowed our pace hauling some of the ill in the boats. But if we extend this temporary camp more than a few days, we can allow the ill to rest here while the bulk of us proceed south. We can hopefully find game and trek back for the others once we have something more to offer them–

And Jopson’s anger is both understandable and not unwarranted - but. Based on that look Le Vesconte gives him, this most likely is not a thought that originated with Little.  It’s  being grumbled by those hauling, maybe even obliquely discussed by the officers.   That look says to me “It has to be said.”  And it does, the logistics are evident to everyone and that needs to be discussed.  They’re sending out hunting parties every day, sure, but in an area very close to the one they’re trekking through.  It genuinely does make practical sense to have some unencumbered, able-bodied (relatively) men go ahead quickly to what would hopefully be better hunting grounds, while the sick conserve what strength they have: those able to hunt could move quickly and bring back game, while those who are dying could do so while not being jostled about on boats on shale.  Little does not say (and, I think, would never say) that they should leave them behind entirely: only that this current system isn’t really helping anyone (and it isn’t).  He needs to make sure that Crozier has fully considered the situation, because for so long that was not the case. (Historically, in fact, they did set up a hospital camp while a smaller party moved south.)

I actually do think he says this with hope: the hope that they really will find game, that the ill do just need to rest, that he can save as many of them as possible.  He's also thinking of the practicalities and (though I may be biased) really does intend to return to the ill once they have something to actually provide them with. He doesn't say so that they can move on unencumbered, to better their own chances, he says to let them rest , to find something to offer them.  He knows the situation and the feeling in camp, and that the time has come to have the conversation. It's not even necessarily a conversation he wants to have or believes in, but it has to be had. Once it's been talked about, once Crozier has come out with not just a position but a direction (to leave supplies behind if necessary), Little is entirely on board. Shortly thereafter, when Le Vesconte suggests the exact same thing, he retorts that " Most of us are ill" (note the us - the identification with) and further responds with disgust and anger that "The Captain also ordered that we not leave any man behind. You expediently leave that out."  The Captain isn’t there; Jopson isn’t there: if Little really in any way wanted to leave anyone behind, this was his chance to order it and save himself.  The fact is that he is still arguing for and trying to lead with compassion as well as duty; the fact that he can't override the more selfish majority doesn't negate that.

I wish we could see his decision to go with Le Vesconte even though he so clearly believes that these lesser mutineers are in the wrong; I know why we don't. I like to think that it's because he believes he's doing the best thing for all, that he knows one semi-able bodied man staying behind is not going to help anyone, and that by going south with the group he may be to able to sway them, or find game for the ill. But again - he has been put in a position where there is no right choice, and where any authority he had has been too far eroded to matter.

Regardless: we go from his vehement protestation that they must a) rescue their captain and b) not leave behind the ill to die to this:

A man completely broken, weathered almost beyond recognition, with his flesh pierced by and draped with the chains of watch fobs. That's fobs plural: they're clearly different chains, from different watches, from different men.  But in still uniform.  Because he clung to the to his identity, to hope, to grounding structure of the Navy in which he trained and believed, until the very end.

We don't know what happens in between. Is it madness? Did the mutineers do this to him?   Is it penance? A memorization of the men whose watches those were?  A punishment on himself for what happened on his watch - despite the fact that really, he was powerless to stop it? And this is the only watch he can keep now - watch chains in his face, his eyes forced open to the horrors. Or did 1st Lt. Edward Little spend so long suppressing his anger, marrying that anger to hope, being responsible, keeping confidences, bearing all that alone, with authority that is both shoved on him and disregarded - did he finally snap? Are the chains not a decoration, not a punishment, but an attempt to literally bind himself up and tack himself down to this terrible world where he’s found himself?  

All we know for certain is his last word - “Close?” Close to what? To death? To salvation?  The only comfort either Edward Little or we, the audience, will get - is that at the very end, his captain was there to release him from the duty to which he clung for so long, so fiercely, with so much hope.

[cosmicatta]

An analysis of Portgas D. Ace through the light novels

Yes, I'm here again with my bullshit. After reading the Law novel, I was very excited to get my hands on the Ace ones too. And because I feel very intensely about him, I couldn't help turning my reading experience into a character analysis essay. Again.

So here we go!

Some notes before I start:

The edition I've read of this novel is the official Spanish translation by Planeta. When quoting and mentioning numbered pages, I'm referencing that edition.

I originally posted this on Twitter as a thread! If it sounds familiar, that might be why.

I've also posted an essay/thingie about Law's novel here!

These are just my personal impressions, I'm not trying to tell anyone how they should interpret the novel or Ace's character. I'm just doing this for fun!

Much like the Law novel, these are kind of a “prequel” to the source material. The story starts with Ace getting stuck in Sixis Island, where he meets Deuce, and follows their journey as Ace builds his own crew and later ends up joining Whitebeard.

The difference is that Ace’s novels, unlike Law’s, rely a lot more on canon events that we already know happened, because they’re mentioned or briefly shown in the manga (especially in the second volume). I’ll go a bit more into detail about this later, but either way, we can say that the novels are very canon-compliant at the very least.

Also, it’s important to point out that volumes 1 and 2 are written by different authors. I do think this has an impact in the way the narrative flows from one part to another, but it still reads like a cohesive story as a whole.

Overall, it offers a very different reading experience from Law’s novel. I guess the biggest contrast here is that we already know what’s going to be Ace’s tragic destiny, so the narration can’t really feel too hopeful.

Even if the story is lighthearted and adventurous most of the time, the tone that surrounds it all is bittersweet. And the core points of Ace’s journey are always marked by his fatal wounds: love, identity and the concept of deserving.

There is no real resolution for any of these themes throughout the novels; there can’t be, because we know Ace will only reach true understanding right before his death.

In this sense, I think the first volume does a better job at capturing that feeling of “tragic hero” that the story seems to go for, without necessarily getting too grim about it. And there’s a few things about it that get lost in the second part:

Volume 1 is written in first person, but it’s not Ace, the protagonist, who narrates the story. It’s Deuce. I think this is an interesting decision because it allows us to see Ace from the outside, through the eyes of someone who loves him.

And what we see from Deuce’s perspective contrasts with the image that we know Ace has of himself. This is especially interesting for 2 reasons:

He shows what Ace craved for all his life but didn’t know he already had until the end: love and respect.

He’s offering the readers a version of Ace’s identity crafted by an outside viewer, which is also what Ace keeps doing all the time: defining himself in relation to others.

These are going to be the main ideas that shape Ace’s journey from the start and what both novels try to explore.

Although Deuce and Ace’s relationship doesn’t start off in the best way, from the beginning Deuce sees a light in him that he has never known in anyone before. This even reflects in the way he describes Ace physically:

(Quotes roughly translated from Spanish):

P. 27: “He played with his radiant black hair.”

P. 129: “His pupils glowed with the colors of the sea floor.”

But what is most emphasized about Ace throughout the narration is his kindness and gentleness—he shares his fruit with Deuce while he’s starving too, he has a place for all kinds of rejected outlaws in his crew, he helps Isuka even though they’re supposed to be enemies, he gives the rice crackers he’d just bought to some children in Sabaody, etc.

Ace just goes around giving away his endless love without thinking too much about it. It’s in his nature. And people love him in return.

P. 66: “What does it mean to be a captain? To me, it means people love you. […] Ace was born to be a captain.”

There’s a small episode that I find very interesting in this sense—right before attacking him, a bounty hunter declares:

P. 67: “Ace! I love you!”

Ace assumes the guy only said that because his head would have granted him a ton of money. But it’s still a weird way to word it. It’s as if Ace was a shooting star that everyone couldn’t help but admire in awe, friends and enemies alike.

But, as I said before, Ace seems to be completely unaware of this, despite the very explicit ways in which people show him appreciation.

It’s at this point that we start to see the conflict between Ace’s “goals” that he set for himself and his true desires (though this will be explored in more detail in volume 2).

Although he keeps claiming to be in search of fame, he doesn’t really seem to be that interested in it. He only reacts to his own popularity when his loved ones do, because that is what he actually wants: acceptance, validation.  

P. 82: “Whenever the number increased [Ace’s bounty], we celebrated it. And him, in seeing us all so happy, celebrated too.”

What Ace is doing is just constantly looking for the answer to that dreadful question he asked Garp as a child: “Did I deserve to be born?” And he tries to find clues in his crewmates’ faces, in his enemies’ words, in the way the whole world around him reacts to his existence.

But what’s interesting is that he’s not just passively contemplating, he very actively tries to earn that right to live, in his own twisted way.

Yes, the world had already decided who Ace was even before he was born, but now it’s his turn. Now he can try and recreate his own image for them to see. And if he has to be a monster, it will be in his own terms.

It’s not about fame, it’s about identity. Because Ace’s identity has never been truly his own.

This is a very delicate subject for him, especially when he realizes that his bounty is growing at an abnormal speed, indicating that the government probably knows who he really is. And so, he is tormented by the idea that, despite all his efforts, he can’t escape the portrait that others have painted of him without permission.

Even those who don’t know the truth about his origins feel free to decide Ace’s worth as a human being. In this regard, his fight with Vice Admiral Draw is notable—he judges Ace not as Roger’s son, but as a regular pirate, and yet he still reaches the same conclusion and says the words that Ace fears so much:

P. 148: “You don’t deserve one more second in this world. It is because of you that so many people live in fear. […] If you didn’t exist, no one would be unhappy.”

Ace wins this fight, but he leaves with an open wound that never closes and only seems to get bigger with time.

And with this, the first volume closes in a very bittersweet tone:

P. 159: “Ace didn’t believe he deserved anyone’s love. […] But Isuka didn’t think the same, and she wasn’t the only one. The problem was that Ace wouldn’t realize. […] He was like the Sun. Everyone adored him, his enemies respected him. Ace was the center of everything. But, like the Sun, way too bright, he was always alone. […] Ace had created a home for us. But what about him? Could we find a home for him, where he’d be able to smile in peace from the bottom of his heart?”

The second volume starts where the first left it, with Ace and his crew entering the New World.

I have to say that I didn’t like this one as much as the first because, for a book that’s supposed to be about Ace’s relationship with others, it kind of falls flat at some points in that sense. Sometimes the novel seems more concerned with describing action scenes that aren’t really that interesting, or events that we already know from the manga without adding much to them.

Also, I feel like I have to mention that some scenes and description choices were a bit questionable (casual misogyny, etc.), but overall the book was still enjoyable to me.

The style and structure is a bit different from the first volume too—for starters, it’s written in third person, although the perspective is a bit all over the place sometimes. The POV keeps switching back and forth between different characters, which could a useful and interesting approach, but you need to know how to do it right, and I’d say it was a bit messy here.

But there is a good side to this, which is that we get a peek into Ace’s thoughts too sometimes.

And we see, as volume 1 already hinted, that his motivations are unclear even to himself. He insists that he wants to surpass his father’s fame, but he isn’t interested in titles or riches.

P. 61: “I don’t aspire to be the King of Pirates or anything of the sort.”

P. 74-75: [In response to “What brought you to the sea?”] “I guess I expected to find out at the sea… Though there’s something I do want to achieve. […] I’ll make sure everyone knows my name.”

Part of the reason why Ace despises the title of “Pirate King” is very obvious—it was his father’s title. But this disinterest also reveals the true reason why Ace thinks he wants the fame: it’s not ambition or vanity; it’s, again, his way of crafting his own identity.

In reality, although he directs his resentment towards his father, it’s not him he really hates, but the world that built a monstrous myth around his figure, a myth that Ace inherited.

P. 80: “This world killed Sabo. Unless you’re someone like Roger, whose execution brought a new era, it doesn’t matter if you live or die. […] Even if I can’t win their recognition, even if they hate me, I’ll become a pirate and take revenge on them all. […] One day, people won’t say ‘Ace, Roger’s son,’ but ‘Roger, Ace’s father.’”

Again, if he must be a monster, he’ll be one he’s created himself.

But it becomes clear in this volume that he has no idea how to do that. He wants to change the world, but has no plan to do so, and doesn’t even understand what that means exactly.

And here’s where Whitebeard is key, as we already know. He sees through Ace, and eventually makes him reevaluate his own ambitions, until he ends up admitting that he has no idea what he’s doing.

P. 159: [Thatch asks him] “You want your reputation to surpass that of the Pirate King, but you’re not interested in the One Piece. You don’t want to break the code either. What the hell does your flag even represent?” [And Ace answers] “I don’t know. Honestly, I thought I did, but not anymore.”

P. 224-225: “Whitebeard inviting him to be his son had seemed to him like another ‘father’ attempting to take control of his life. But […] now he understood the word ‘son’ a little differently.”

Though there’s no real resolution to Ace’s big questions in life, he slowly starts finding his own place and learning to accept the kindness he’s given, even if he doesn’t fully understand it yet.

P. 229: [Deuce asks him] “Do you think you’ll find what you’re looking for with Whitebeard?” [And Ace answers] “Yes. […] Because here I feel at peace.”

The book finishes with Ace offering his back to get Whitebeard’s Jolly Roger tattooed. With this, he’s constructing his image around the figure of a different father, one that he’s proud of. He still builds himself in relation to others, but is now more benevolent in doing so.

This is the first step of a healing project that we know will never be fully complete. And because of this, despite the ending having a hopeful and gentle tone, it’s still a bit heartbreaking. Like the first act of a tragedy.

There's a lot more interesting stuff to talk about in the novels, like the way Ace talks about Luffy and Sabo, and how it becomes clear that they are what really made him want to live and keep fighting. But this is already way longer than I originally intended, so I'll leave it here.

So, if you read this far, thank you! ♥ I hope you enjoyed it or at least found it somewhat interesting.

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Who would like to own a property that's name literally translates to "Fart?" The late owner was a retired, decorated Viet Nam navy veteran from Brooklyn, NYC, who fell in love with the Terlingua, TX Ghost Town. The property is up for sale for $1.3M.

Every year he had a fundraiser to benefit the Fire Department and the EMS, called The Rocket Fuel Party.

Inside the fence is a full-size conning tower of a submarine, a replica of a sailing ship, and a small Statue of Liberty that lights up at night.

The owner's name was Jimmy and he began building a fleet.

He also built a propane-powered volcano and tiki bar to complete the south seas feel.

The submarine USS Thresher (SSN-593) was the lead boat of her class of nuclear-powered attack submarines in the United States Navy. She was the U.S. Navy's second submarine to be named after the thresher shark. On 10 April 1963, Thresher sank during deep-diving tests about 350 km (220 mi) east of Cape Cod, Massachusetts, killing all 129 crew and shipyard personnel aboard.

That's most of the history of Passing Wind.

The property has fallen into disrepair and needs a new owner to bring it back to life. This is the closest structure that I can see that looks like it was the tiki bar.

Here's the trailer Jimmy must've lived in. It looks to be in good shape from the outside.

And, there's also this building.

The land is 3.44 acres. I guess the new owner would have to be interested in military history enough to want to invest in making an attraction dedicated to it. I have no idea if this would be a tourist destination.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/Highway-170-170-Terlingua-TX-79852/2054487857_zpid/?

[the-golden-vanity]

I'm currently (finally) reading Gillian Hutchinson's book on the Franklin Expedition, and I think the biggest surprise so far has been finding out that Erebus and Terror were approximately the same length and beam as Pride of Baltimore II, the schooner I sailed up the East Coast of the USA on this summer.*

Pride sails with a crew of 18 (guest + professional crew combined). Erebus and Terror carried a combined total of 129 men on their fatal final voyage.

...is now an appropriate time to say "I know it smelled crazy in there"?

*Erebus and Terror each had an orlop deck/hold, which Pride doesn't, but since Pride had lots of storage space under the sole boards, I think the main difference there is that the engines wouldn't have taken up part of the deck people were living on.

[workersolidarity]

[ 📹 One casualty after another is brought to Nasser Medical Complex in the city of Khan Yunis, in the southern Gaza Strip, today, Saturday, after the Israeli occupation forces bombed a displacement camp filled with Palestinian civilian families in the Nus area of the town of Al-Mawasi, northeast of Khan Yunis, resulting in the deaths of at least 71 civilians and wounding nearly 300 others, according to local reporting. ]

🇮🇱⚔️🇵🇸 🚀🏘️💥🚑 🚨

GAZA GENOCIDE DAY 281: SEVERAL NEW MASSACRES ON TENTS OF DISPLACED PALESTINIAN FAMILIES LEAVES SCORES DEAD AS ISRAELI OCCUPATION ARMY INTENSIFIES ATTACKS ACROSS GAZA

On 281st day of the Israeli occupation's ongoing special genocide operation in the Gaza Strip, the Israeli occupation forces (IOF) committed a total of 4 new massacres of Palestinian families, resulting in the deaths of no less than 61 Palestinian civilians, mostly women and children, while another 129 others were wounded over the previous 24-hours.

It should be noted that as a result of the constant Israeli bombardment of Gaza's healthcare system, infrastructure, residential and commercial buildings, local paramedic and civil defense crews are unable to recover countless hundreds, even thousands, of victims who remain trapped under the rubble, or who's bodies remain strewn across the streets of Gaza.

This leaves the official death toll vastly undercounted as Gaza's healthcare officials are unable to accurately tally those killed and maimed in this genocide, which must be kept in mind when considering the scale of the mass murder.

A new Israeli attack on the tents of displaced Palestinian families in the Nus area of the town of Al-Mawasi, northeast of Khan Yunis, in southern Gaza, has killed at least 70 Palestinian civilians, and wounded nearly 300 others, in the latest example of the Israeli occupation's ongoing genocide of Palestinians in the Gaza Strip.

In a statement issued on Saturday, Gaza's Ministry of Health said that “the death toll of the occupation’s horrific massacre against citizens and displaced people in the Al-Mawasi area of Khan Younis reached more than 71 martyrs and 289 injuries, including serious cases that medical teams are still dealing with up to this moment.”

The Ministry previously stated that “the bodies of 20 Palestinians and over 90 injured arrived at the Nasser Medical Complex in Khan Younis after Israeli forces bombed the Al-Mawasi area.”

Reports shortly after the attack, from Gaza's media office, stated that more than 100 civilians had been killed and wounded as a result of the Zionist army's bombing of displacement tents in a "major massacre" in the Al-Mawasi area, which the occupation army previously declared a "safe" humanitarian zone.

In a statement, Gaza's Media Office said that “the occupation army committed a major massacre by bombing displaced persons camps in the Al-Mawasi area in Khan Younis, leaving more than 100 casualties, including individuals and officers from the Civil Defense according to a preliminary toll."

According to Turkish news organization, Anadolu News Agency, which has reporters on the ground in Gaza, witnesses told the news outlet that the Israeli occupation forces had fired five large missiles into the Al-Mawasi area's displacement camps, which were previously declared a humanitarian safe zone by the Zionist army.

According to the statement of Gaza's Health Ministry, the dead and wounded were transferred to Nasser Hospital, where medical staff were "unable to provide medical services at Nasser Hospital in Khan Younis due to the large number of wounded."

In a statement from the Director-General of Gaza's Civil Defense services, Mahmoud Basal, "One of our members was martyred and 8 others were injured after an Israeli attack on a residential house again while crews were working to rescue citizens from inside the house in the center of Khan Yunis."

He added that the continued large-scale bombing conducted by the Israeli occupation army targeting sites, homes and tents of displaced Palestinians makes it difficult to reach many of the dead and wounded.

The Zionist entity continues to violate the orders of the United Nations Security Council, which demanded an immediate ceasefire in a resolution back in early June, 2024, and continues to face international condemnation over its ongoing genocide in the Gaza Strip.

The Zionist entity has also been accused of genocide at the International Court of Justice (ICJ) at The Hague, in the Netherlands, where a recent ruling ordered the Israeli occupation army to immediately halt its military operations in Gaza's southern city of Rafah, where, at the time, more than 1 million Palestinians had sought shelter from the army's endless bombing, shelling and gunfire, as well as drone and missile strikes, before itself being invaded on May 6th.

Unfortunately for the Palestinian population of Gaza, the Israeli occupation's audacious massacres and war crimes continued on Saturday, July 13th, when occupation forces bombed a prayer hall near the White Mosque in the Al-Shati Refugee Camp, west of Gaza City, resulting in the deaths of more than 25 Palestinian civilians, and wounding dozens of others.

Meanwhile, large-scale massacres aside, the Israeli occupation forces (IOF) continued to target the homes and shelters of Palestinian families across the Gaza Strip, killing and wounding dozens more civilians, and leaving countless thousands of people without shelter.

On the 281st day of the genocidal operations in the Gaza Strip, a retreat of the Zionist army's Merkava tanks and other armored personnel carriers from the Industrial area and the Tal al-Hawa neighborhood, south of Gaza City, has revealed the presence of dozens of martyrs inside their homes, executed by the occupation army.

Since Friday, Palestinian rescue crews have continued their work to retrieve the bodies of the dead and wounded from the Tal al-Hawa neighborhood and the Industrial area of Gaza City, where witnesses say they saw the occupation army execute civilians, including women, children and the elderly, as well as entire families, inside their homes.

Local civil defense and paramedic crews managed to recover the decomposing corpses of more than 60 Palestinians from the Al-Shujaiya and Tal al-Hawa neighborhoods since dawn on Saturday, while dozens of others remain trapped under the rubble, their fates remaining unknown at this time.

Sources in the city said that dozens of bodies remain lying on the ground and in the streets, some of them charred from explosives and resulting fires, while Zionist soldiers systematically set fire to Palestinian homes before withdrawing from Tal al-Hawa and several other areas.

The Israeli occupation army also destroyed the Friends of Patients Hospital building in the Al-Rimal neighborhood, east of Gaza City, while a number of corpses were removed from the building and taken to a nearby hospital.

The International Red Cross also issued a statement on the situation, announcing it had received "hundreds of calls in recent days from desperate people asking for help, and that entire families are trapped and in need of security," adding that "the need is much greater than the ability to respond."

The Zionist army continues to occupy several areas of the two neighborhoods in Gaza City, with the presence of military vehicles on Carrefour Street and Street 8.

Additionally, the Asdeeq al-Mu'reed Hospital continues to remain out of service due to the immense destruction evident to parts of the hospital that occured during Israeli ground operations in Gaza City.

IOF warplanes also renewed their bombardment of civilian homes in Gaza, with four members of the Abu Hashem family martyred in the bombing of a residential apartment on al-Jala'a Street, while another three civilians were killed in the bombing of the Al-Katiba area of Gaza City.

The occupation army also opened fire on the al-Mina area, west of Gaza City, killing the fisherman Ahmed al-Nasi.

In yet another massacre, Israeli occupation forces bombed a residential home near the Islamic University in the Ma'an area, south of the city of Khan Yunis, in the southern Gaza Strip, killing two members of the Wadi family, including a man and his wife, who was 3-months pregnant at the time of her death.

The atrocities continued when the Zionist army bombed the Al-Mawasi area, which the army claimed to be a safe zone, resulting in the deaths of four International aid workers.

Occupation fighter jets next bombed a residential building which remains under construction, belonging to Mr. Abdul Malik Baraka, located behind the former electricity company, opposite the Al-Khansa School in Abasan Al-Kabira, east of Khan Yunis.

The Israeli occupation army also continues its ground operations in the city of Rafah, in the southern Gaza Strip, for the third consecutive month, while Zionist forces continue to openly fire on any civilians that enter the city.

Israeli occupation forces also bombed a residential building in the Tal al-Sultan neighborhood, west of Rafah City, killing two Palestinian citizens.

Additionally, two Palestinian women were killed when Zionist warplanes bombed a residential house in the city of Deir al-Balah, in the central Gaza Strip.

Similarly, occupation aircraft bombarded a residential home belonging to the Aql family near the Nuseirat Municipality, in the central Gaza Strip, wounding at least 10 civilians.

Occupation warplanes also bombed a residential house in Abasan Al-Kabira, east of Khan Yunis, in the southern Gaza Strip, while Zionist artillery detatchments shelled neighborhoods north of the Nuseirat Camp, in the central Gaza Strip.

The Palestinian Red Crescent Society (PRCS) also reported the recovery of 5 dead bodies, including three children, who were killed as a result of an Israeli airstrike on the residential home of Al-Ra'i family in the city of Deir al-Balah. The dead and wounded were transported to Al-Aqsa Martyrs Hospital in the city.

Explosions were also heard coming from the vicinity of the Shuhada Junction, south of Gaza City, which coincided with occupation artillery shelling targeting the Al-Zaytoun neighborhood, southeast of Gaza City.

Occupation quadcopter drones were also witnessed firing at civilians south of the Tal al-Hawa neighborhood, southwest of Gaza City, while Zionist artillery detatchments fired shells towards the south of the Al-Rimal neighborhood, west of the city.

As a result of the Israeli occupation's ongoing war of extermination in the Gaza Strip, the infinitely rising death toll now exceeds 38'443 Palestinians killed, including at least 10'000 women and well over 15'000 children, while another 88'481 others have been wounded since the start of the current round of Zionist aggression, beginning with the events of October 7th, 2023.

This means the Israeli occupation forces have left a total of 126'924 casualties, according to the official count of the Ministry of Health, in its wake in the Gaza Strip, or the equivalent of 5.5% of the total Palestinian population of the enclave.

July 13th, 2024.

#source1

#source2

#source3

#source4

#source5

#source6

#source7

#source8

#source9

#videosource

@WorkerSolidarityNews

[happilylovingchaos]

Fic Recs Thursday (or Friday):

Okay, let me just say this: finding old/ underrated fanfics that focused on Mateo and Nancy as individual characters was hard. Harder than finding ones on disasters. But, here I go back down the AO3 rabbit hole @lonestar-s5countdown.

Canon Codas:

Keep running by ourfreewill: Mateo’s view on the events of 2x02– god this is sad. This makes so much sense as another headcanon to how Tim got so close to being part of the 126 family.

Such strange uncharted territory by @marjansmarwani: The 2x10 intervention that features soft Tarlos, and the 126 learning about Mateo’s living sitch.

I can’t carry this anymore… by @alidravana: There’s a small typo in the fic’s tag— it should be 2x14, but otherwise this was a nice look into Carlos’ THOUGHTS about hearing what happened with Mateo and his 129 captain. CW: discussed hazing/ homophobia.

A question of capability by rakketyrivertam: Owen’s conspiracy theorist side strikes an ethnicity-related nerve with Mateo after the mistaken alien call in 3x06.

Don’t lose sight of what I want by @alidravana: Mateo and Paul help TK through physiotherapy after the events of 1x08 and 1x09. It’s a painful day still, but one with a little hope sprinkled in.

Nights like these by Azphobic (orphan_account): After the traffic pileup turned shooting in 3x14, Mateo is one of the firefighters who nearly loses sleep over what happened.

Even dust was made to settle by tiniestmite: Takes place during 2x10, just before TK and the 126 stage their intervention for Owen. Mateo might be a bad secret-keeper, but he’s hell of a lifesaver.

Edamame and empathy by @blueink3: A 3x14 coda where Nancy seeks comfort from Tarlos and receives.

Some risks are worth it by RamblingDisaster73: This speculation fic should have panned out in 3x17. Heightism might be a thing, Julian and Brianna did solid jobs with what they were given, but their conflict just felt off to me.

Burnt CDs and moving forward by maplehobi: Another 3x14 coda covering the Nanteo “coffee date”, where Mateo and Nancy befriend each other after the shooting. Because I think this is a headcanon starting point— start as friends (bonus points if there’s a shared traumatic incident), see if there’s something more. -v-

Laughing gas by shes_an_oddbird: A light-hearted extension of the post-ANFO scene in 4x06, right after Owen and the firefighters avert the terror attack. Because if anything was done well in that arc imo, it was that scene.

Deep dive for Disasters (ooh, alliteration again! Includes an AU or two):

A storm to weather by @marjansmarwani: A 3x01 spec-turned-AU where TK is still on the wrong end of a rescue gone awry and still suffers hypothermia but it’s not as life-threatening. Slightly.

Not only to believe in ourselves, but in each other by MyCupOfTea and singerofsimplesongs: What if 9-1-1: Lone Star took place in the world of Pacific Rim? Tarlos-centric, with Paul and Mateo and Marjan making up the Crimson Typhoon equivalent.

I’d burn here if that’s what it takes by @blaineandsamevanderson and Skaboom: Another serial arsonist story, with much more direct consequences to Tarlos.

Fun and games (and friendly discussions) by @fallout-mars: An exception to the “disasters” rule, where the Catan crew have thoughts on the near-disastrous sinking of the new ship that is Nanteo in 3x17.

Heat wave by AliceSchuyler: During a particularly scorching day, Mateo gets bad heat stroke. It’s not a fun time, but good thing his firefighter family’s looking out for him just as much as he did them.

Family’s comfort by Gucci_Chainsaw: When the 126 report to an apartment fire, Mateo gets injured and trapped in its basement.

Put others oxygen masks on first by lorarawr: A 2x12 AU-coda where Mateo visits Tarlos at their hotel after they lose their home, and drops off more than just supplies from Owen’s house.

Mateo (not as underrated as I thought):

The company we keep by cosmiceverafter: Marjan, Paul and Mateo attend the Austin State Fair on their shift off, and bond over Moana.

On your side by @marjansmarwani: Mateo gains two protective brothers as the new 126 members meet and bond with each other.

These three works by fan_gworl should also be a series! Some Mateo whump included.

Cake, slang, and misunderstandings by Joanna_Kay: Hilarity, some heartbreak, and heartwarmth ensues after Mateo tries out some lingo in conversation with the 126.

Making the man by Joanna_Kay: A two-part series that, even if lot of it is retconned (like how his parents or at least his father still live in Mexico while he stayed with extended fam), explores how difficult Mateo’s childhood would have been as a disabled Hispanic kid.

In the meantime by @morganaspendragonss: In this 2x10 AU, Marjan offers Mateo her place to live in before Owen does. It’s another sweet big sister move. ^^

mateo begins by @lire-casander: How Mateo is just as much a mama’s boy as the father-figure magnet he later becomes. CW: discussion of disability struggles and bullying.

Jurassic Park & coffee cups by InkpotGod97: Mateo gets Marjan a thoughtful gift!

Allergies/asthma by @stardustviolet: TK owes Mateo an apology for blowing off his allergy to cat dander.

I know you can’t see it by myemergence: After Mateo gets his heart broken, Marjan assures him that he will always be enough. This was such a sweet sister-brother moment!

Cutting it close by tiniestmite: Carlos and Mateo have another friendship moment, but not without a little kitchen accident b/c it wouldn’t be 9-1-1 without a little lighthearted severity.

Officer Mateo at your service by mionejaina1011: Mateo meets Carlos earlier than in canon as a police officer.

Come deliver me back home by @morganaspendragonss: Mateo, TK and Carlos reckon with the arson attack one late night after Mateo has a long day.

(Des)esperanza, Leaving pieces of me behind by TearsThisSideOfHeaven: Two instances where Mateo and Carlos struggle in living not just as first responders, but as two Latino men in a red state that hasn’t completely accepted them.

Scent is the strongest sense by barelyprolific: How Mateo possibly develops a crush on Nancy after the dust storm. How come we didn’t get to see this in the show?

Speak my language by LynnOver: Where Mateo steps in as translator for TK when he encounters a Spanish family who doesn’t speak English.

Deja vu by HeartAngel1796: Mateo’s sitcom dream from 4x11 starts to blend into his reality, WandaVision style. Even imagining it feels trippy o_O.

Nancy (okay I was wrong— she gets way less personal stories than Paul):

Nancy Gillian brainrot by douglasdavenportslut: An abandoned series of ideas about Nancy’s character.

My armor falls apart by @marjansmarwani: Nancy, much like Carlos, grapples with the fear of losing TK in this 3x02 coda.

Finally standing on the inside by RamblingDisaster73: The events of 3x07 to 3x08 from Nancy’s POV (minus the inventory scene).

We’ll be just fine, On the outside always looking in by @morganaspendragonss: Two great character studies of Nancy as she meets TK and is accepted into the 126 family.

You’ll never walk alone, rejoice your truth @doublel27: The first story covers a convo between Nancy and Mateo about the events of 3x12, the second story a queer bonding moment when Nancy and TK man a medical tent at the Austin Pride Festival.

I always knew you’d find your way by @fallout-mars: Nancy has her own POV about TK and Carlos’ breakup, and the time after.

Soulmates aren’t just lovers by @nancys-braids: A series of “Nancy Begins” stories that start from her college years and continues into the present canon. Supporting characters include Carlos, Mateo and Marjan!

It’s not so weird after all by shes_an_oddbird: An ongoing series of codas about how Nancy and Mateo became Nanteo, because I’m pretty sure the show writers speed-built this ship by the seat of their pants and gave it a false start. Thank you for making this!

Tagging next, and this should still be open: @lutavero @reyesstrand @toomanycupsoftea @fitzherbertssmolder @marjansmarwani

[zuko-always-lies]

ATLA Book 1 Character Stats

One thing I have been wondering for a while is how many lines of dialogue each character has in ATLA. I recently figured out an easy way to calculate it, so here are the stats for Book 1.

There are 3490 total lines of dialogue in the season. They are divided up as follows:

Aang 818 lines, 23.44% of total Katara 633 lines, 18.14% of total Sokka 610 lines, 17.48% of total Zuko 174 lines, 4.99% of total (Note: if you include "Young Zuko," this jumps to 182 lines and 5.21%) Iroh 129 lines, 3.70% of total Zhao 107 lines, 3.07 of total Jet 74 lines, 2.12% of total Yue 51 lines, 1.46% of total Bumi 45 lines, 1.29% of total Mechanist 35 lines, 1.00%

Character stats for more obscure characters below:

Jeong Jeong 30 lines, 0.86% Pakku 29 lines, 0.83% Teo 29 lines, 0.83% Bato 28 lines, 0.80% Wu 28 lines, 0.80% Zhang leader 28 lines, 0.80% Shyu 25 lines, 0.72% Suki 25 lines, 0.72% Gan Jin leader 23 lines, 0.66% Haru 23 lines, 0.66% June 18 lines, 0.52% Arnook 18 lines, 0.52% Gyatso 18 lines, 0.52% Meng 18 lines, 0.52% Canyon guide 17 lines, 0.49% Fisherman 16 lines, 0.46% Warden 16 lines, 0.46% Roku 15 lines, 0.43% Chey 14 lines, 0.40% Pirate captain 14 lines, 0.40% Herbalist 13 lines 0.37% Guard 12 lines, 0.34% Calm man 11 lines, 0.32% Kay-fon 11 lines, 0.32% Tyro 11 lines, 0.32% Earthbender captain 10 lines, 0.29% Gan Jin tribesman 10 lines, 0.29% Great Fire Sage 10 lines, 0.29% Jee 10 lines, 0.29% Kanna 10 lines, 0.29% Oh 10 lines, 0.29% Senlin Village leader 10 lines, 0.29% Fisherman's wife 9 lines, 0.257879656% Hahn 9 lines, 0.257879656% Haru's mother 9 lines, 0.257879656% Koh 9 lines, 0.257879656% Captain 8 lines, 0.229226361% Mother Superior 8 lines, 0.229226361% Oyaji 8 lines, 0.229226361% Yagoda 8 lines, 0.229226361% Young Zuko 8 lines, 0.229226361% Tashi 7, 0.200573066 Shinu 6, 0.171919771 Storyteller 6, 0.171919771 Air Nomad boy #1 5, 0.143266476 Cabbage merchant 5, 0.143266476 Gate guard 5, 0.143266476 Koko 5, 0.143266476 Lin Yee 5, 0.143266476 Malu 5, 0.143266476 Pipsqueak 5, 0.143266476 Qin 5. 0.143266476 Smellerbee 5, 0.143266476 Air Nomad boy #2 4, 0.114613181 Fire Nation Soldier 4, 0.114613181 Hakoda 4, 0.114613181 Man 4, 0.114613181 Messenger 4, 0.114613181 Ozai 4, 0.114613181 Soldier 4, 0.114613181 Baboon spirit 3, 0.085959885 Little girl 3, 0.085959885 Old man 3, 0.085959885 Omashu captain 3, 0.085959885 Pasang 3, 0.085959885 Southern Water Tribe boy 3, 0.085959885 Tax collector 3, 0.085959885 The Duke 3, 0.085959885 Village girl 3, 0.085959885 Woman 3, 0.085959885 Bujing 2, 0.05730659 Chamberlain 2, 0.05730659 Firebender 2, 0.05730659 Guard captain 2, 0.05730659 Merchant woman 2, 0.05730659 Old Fire Nation civilian 2, 0.05730659 Pirate 2, 0.05730659 Village boy 2, 0.05730659 Village Woman 2, 0.05730659 Aang and Sokka 1, 0.028653295 Aunt Wu 1, 0.028653295 Both 1, 0.028653295 Citizen 1, 0.028653295 Colonists 1, 0.028653295 Crew member 1, 0.028653295 Elder general 1, 0.028653295 Engineer 1, 0.028653295 Eye-patch soldier 1, 0.028653295 Fangirls 1, 0.028653295 Farmer 1, 0.028653295 Fire Nation kids 1, 0.028653295 Fire Sage 1, 0.028653295 Firebenders 1, 0.028653295 Gan Jin man 1, 0.028653295 Girl 1, 0.028653295 Gyatso and Katara 1, 0.028653295 Li 1, 0.028653295 Lieutenant Jee 1, 0.028653295 Man with Red Shoes 1, 0.028653295 Mask dealer 1, 0.028653295 Painter 1, 0.028653295 Ping 1, 0.028653295 Poi 1, 0.028653295 Poi and Ping 1, 0.028653295 Prisoner 1, 0.028653295 Puppet Fire Lord 1, 0.028653295 Scout #1 1, 0.028653295 Scout #2 1, 0.028653295 Scribe 1, 0.028653295 Shop keeper 1, 0.028653295 Shopkeeper 1, 0.028653295 Southern Water Tribe girl 1, 0.028653295 Spectators 1, 0.028653295 Strange Man 1, 0.028653295 Together 1, 0.028653295 Tribal man 1, 0.028653295 Village kids 1, 0.028653295

[silkenbutterfly7]

We will see the North American Mainland within a fortnight...

How could Sir Franklin so confidently say they would see the North American Mainland within a fortnight in the show? Thoughts on what they were going to do when they found the Passage.

I find it so difficult to imagine that Sir John could be impossibly overconfident to promise the North West Passage within 2 weeks of sailing when they had already spent a year just getting to the top of Prince William Land (Island.) I mean, didn't their basic Canadian maps have some sort of distance scaling on them? There were scenes of Fitzjames and Crozier trying to calibrate distance with compasses. It showcases Sir John's "act of hubris they may not survive" and feels like such an instance of plunging headlong into disaster (it makes me FEEL the CRINGE.)

And what did the crew think about that rousing speech at the end of episode 1, only to be stuck in the ice for another winter. That seems like it would have bred deep resentment and the first stirrings of distrust in leadership and thoughts of mutiny.

At the last scene when Sir John is ordering the officers to be "all good cheer" there is hesitation until Fitzjames nods in agreement and looks at the officers as if they are still in disbelief at Sir John's proud, stupid blundering. Then the last glance at Crozier (obviously too far away to see his face from Erebus) but the zoom-in for the viewer, showing that he knows he was right and the worst is yet to come.

In the real-life letters mailed from Greenland, Fitzjames mentions sailing to the Sandwich Islands (Hawaii) or Valparaiso on the coast of Chile. Hickey says he thought he was getting a trip to Hawaii! That's like 2000 miles from the Bering Strait across the open Pacific. Terror and Erebus were icebreakers, heavy & slow, not built for long voyages across the ocean. They had to be towed up past Scotland to Greenland by barges. By what miracle did they expect to sail through the Bering Strait, past the stormy Aleutian Islands, and down to Hawaii?

Crozier sailed (in real life) with James Clark Ross from England to Tasmania (where Sir John was a governor) and then to Antarctica on the previous expedition and it took them an 11-month voyage. So how did the Admiralty think that 3 years' provisions were enough to see the Franklin Expedition through the North West Passage, down to Hawaii, and then across the globe back to England again? They must have some plan to stop and take on fresh provisions and resupply (I would hope.) The whole logistics of the expedition seems ill-planned and just doomed from the outset. Even if the Goldner's cans had not been tainted with lead or spoiled, would they even have had enough provisions to get to Hawaii or Valparaiso without starving? Were they just hoping to shoot enough birds and seals on the coast of Alaska to feed 129 men for months?

The hubris of the leadership, and the trust of the crew following them, just destroys me. :(

[caleblandrybones]

rip to the 129 crew members of hms terror and hms erebus you would have loved christmas crackers

[theworldatwar]

A 40mm Gun Crew member known as a "Deck Talker” poses for a photograph onboard the US Destroyer Escort 'USS Edsall (DE-129) - Pacific 1943. Colour by Jecinci.

[daincrediblegg]

ONE WARM LINE CHAPTER 1 PREVIEW

Well folks. For the old man's Birthday, this is what you get. A preview of the first chapter entirely from Lady Terror's point of view. Enjoy

In the mind of one Miss Genevieve Sinclair, September of 1846 still had time yet to shape up to become a very good month indeed.

A few months out from the Baffin Bay now, the air on HMS Erebus began to shift measurably. As the renewed cold washed in, so too did the excitement of the crew. You’d be hard pressed to find single soul on either ship to not be in the highest of spirits, but the sole woman among the total of 129 men on both Erebus and Terror (and the solitary representative of her sex on this expedition, at least, that which she knew of), was not quite as convinced.

With the cold, of course, came ice, and it was her charge to observe it, after all. She may still have been considered a Junior in these matters in comparison to Mr. Reid, and Terror’s Mr. Blanky, but she was familiar enough to know that even with how well their ships were outfitted, it would be difficult to maneuver the Passage, and the further they approached, the more difficult it would become, and the signs of that difficulty had already begun to show themselves. The ice, in recent days, like this one, began to look like lily pads on a great deep blue pond (dinner plates, Mr. Reid had called them, but she felt it an inept analogy for the way they floated on the surface, like they belonged there). Soon, they would grow to size, and fuse with one another, to create a great sheet, and soon after that, it would freeze farther down even than below where the ships buoyed themselves upright in the water. If their course was not charted carefully from here on out, it would be a certainty. And though certainty was a comfort in its own way, a possibility of success was far more palatable, and Sinclair would rather tread the unknown, study, and understand it, than take her chances with certainty.

And it was for this reason that, in spite of her own reservations on the future of this venture, she found herself at least a little infected by the enthusiasm of her shipmates. It was in fact this same energy that took her up to the portside gunwale on this day in particular, practically glowing from it as the cold air pinkened her cheeks. After wintering on the ice-locked shores of Beechey Island, cooped up for the majority of that time in her cabin out of necessity, she had resolved to not spend a single moment of their summer strait (un-summer-like though it was) below decks, and after receiving her assignment from a begrudged Mr. Reid to aid him in charting out the as of yet unmapped coastline as they passed, and of course, around mid-day Mr. Reid had gone down to attend other duties left to him by Sir John, leaving Sinclair alone to finish the task before her.

In perfect honesty, she couldn’t have been more relieved. Mr. Reid surely was a well studied man, in her estimation, but his demeanor, like many of the other men on these ships, was so curt and plain whenever he spoke to her. They were all a superstitious lot, she knew. Her years on the Demeter with her Father had taught her as much, but even those men, as set as they were in their superstitions, had warmed to her by the end of their course through the Prussian seas. It truly baffled her now, even one year after landfall, and none but a handful that she could count on her two hands had seemed to change their minds on the matter of her, and even fewer with the bravery to more than tip their hats to her in greeting.

And yet, in spite of their ignorance to her presence, she couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched as she worked. She was still an oddity enough to these seasoned naval men to warrant attention. And though they would hesitate to speak with her directly, their gazes were enough to tell her what they thought of her. Even now, perched by the portside gunwale with her instruments and sketching paper, where she had been nearly since the day began, she could feel their eyes every now and again as she tried to work. It is why she preferred to work in her cabin, or alone, at night, most days, so the feel of the eyes on her would not distract her as much. But even that feeling could not dissuade her from being determined to push through with her task today. The credit for finding the passage itself would never go to the name of a woman, she knew, but it would be her strokes in crude lead and later still in fine ink upon the very map of the world itself… it would be a credit to her. And that, no man could deny her.

It was mid-afternoon now, and she looked at what remained of her work. Three Hundred miles. Three Hundred Miles was all that stood between them and the waters of the pacific. A threshold marred with isles and inlets and capes, and ice. And her hand would chart all the rest of it (or rather, as much as she could manage in her waking hours, at least). But their course through these labyrinthian miles were what counted most. She was well acquainted enough with the accounts Parry, and Sir John Ross left of their attempts at the Passage. Even better acquainted with Dr. Richard King’s theories about the safety of the coastal waters, and as she suspected, islands, and ones that they could sail through the same as they had the Bellot strait just a few short weeks ago. But their luck had won them that prize in the first place. If it had not been summer, and if it had not been in that span of time that they had passed in, she suspected, they would not have made it out the other side and here before. And the ice was beginning to form even here, well… it was all a matter of timing. And Sinclair, as she observed her lily-pad ice, knocking against each other in the rolls of the sea and against their ship, was going to make certain that the timing was correct to avoid being iced in completely.

[frogaroundandfindout]

Tim threatens the Scarface crew into talking by holding up the dummy by the neck. The cops arrive on the scene and Tim runs as the gpd officers are shot down (Robin Vol. 4 #129)