#But the supervisor of my area the following year did ask about my health...he wanted to know how many times I had been sick

[reallifesultanas]

Portrait of Murad IV / IV. Murad portréja

Birth and childhood

Murad was born in July 1612 as the second son and fifth child of Ahmed I and his favorite concubine, Mahpeyker Kösem. In addition to Ahmed's two sons from Kösem, Ahmed had another son, Prince Osman, the eldest child. Murad belonged to a generation of princes who, for the first time in history, did not have to fear the law of fratricide. According to a tradition enshrined in law by Mehmed II, sultans had to execute all of their brothers in order to maintain order. However, Sultan Ahmed did not do this when he left his brother, Mustafa, alive after his accession to the throne in 1603. Thus the sons of Ahmed were already born into a new world. It is a fact, however, that Ahmed was not sure of his decision for a long time, so he repeatedly attempted to execute Mustafa, but in the end, his conscience and Kösem Sultan convinced him, so Mustafa was saved.

Murad lived his early childhood in relative calmness, as his father was a popular sultan, his mother held the rank of Haseki Sultan, and she was a very influential and popular woman. However, all this changed in 1617. Sultan Ahmed died and a kind of inheritance chaos broke out in the empire. The people had enough of the fratricide but Ahmed had not left a legal decree about who should follow him on the throne: his younger brother, Mustafa, or his eldest son, Osman. Eventually, with the accession of Mustafa to the throne, the inheritance officially changed, the throne no longer passed from father to son but was taken over by the oldest male of the dynasty. So Murad and his siblings could survive, but they lived in solitary confinement in Topkapi Palace, while their mother Kösem Sultan along with her daughters moved to the Old Palace.

The following years were quite chaotic, Mustafa was soon dethroned because of his mental illness, and Murad’s half-brother, Osman, ascended the throne. Osman was a very unpopular, bad ruler who, although tried to maintain a fair relationship with Kösem Sultan in his early reign, he later in January 1621 executed Kösem's son so Murad's brother, Prince Mehmed. Murad and his younger brothers certainly lived in awe away from their mothers, their sisters, locked up, exposed to a tyrant ruler, and it cannot be ruled out that they witnessed the execution. Eventually, Osman's brutal murder brought relief to them. But it also gave Murad a lifelong lesson that not even a sultan can be safe.

Accession to the throne

The brutal execution of Osman was attributed to Halime Sultan and her son, Mustafa I, so that Sultan Mustafa was eventually dethroned again and his mother exiled to the Old Palace. Murad, just 11 years old, was the next in the line of inheritance. Given his age, the divan and ulema appointed his mother Kösem Sultan as a regent, until Murad himself became mature enough to rule. Although Murad could relief as he became the sultan, it was certainly not easy for him to start a new life after such a difficult childhood. It is also important to note that Murad was able to spend some time with his mother last time in 1617 at the age of five. He lived separated from his mother for six years between 1617 and 1623, this presumably caused serious difficulty for the two of them to re-establish a mother-son relationship.

Murad was a difficult child to handle. Several letters of Kösem Sultan have survived in which she complains to the Grand Vizier about how much Murad does not listen to her, and sometimes he even refuses to meet her for days. In addition to the long isolation, their similar personalities did not help to form a nice relationship much either. They were both leading individuals, with a very strong will, so they had a hard time getting along with each other. They argued many times, after which Kösem Sultan was the one who wanted to reconcile with Murad. After one of their big quarrels, for example, she gifted a horse to Murad, and at other times she organized a huge ceremony for him. In addition, Kösem has regularly expressed concern about Murad’s health, suggesting that perhaps Murad was already struggling with health problems at the time.

From the time of Ahmed's death, the empire gradually fell into anarchy. They lost several important areas and tried in vain to recapture them. Furthermore, Abaza Mehmed Pasha, who revolted after the execution of Osman II, refused to recognize Murad as his ruler and continued his rebellion. Nor did this rebellion was suppressed by the pashas sent against him. To exacerbate the situation, in 1625 a plague broke out in the capital, killing thousands of people. For the first time in the same year, Murad rebelled against his mother’s will. Kösem made a treaty with the Spaniards at the time, but Murad did not like that, so in the end, Kösem gave up.

Then in 1628, Murad became seriously ill, lying in bed for weeks. His exact illness was not revealed, some said his epilepsy started at this time, others said he had digestive problems. But good things also happened that year, Abaza Mehmed Pasha’s rebellion finished and they captured him. In the same year, Murad gave another signal that he soon wanted to take over the reign and openly confronted his mother when he dissolved his sister Fatma’s marriage to Admiral Çatalcalı Haşan Pasha, whom his mother had given special attention to. In addition, Murad was increasingly disturbed by the fact that his mother let corruption go on. Kösem Sultan herself also gave special attention to pashas she liked and this provoked resentment from many, especially her son, Murad. For example, Kösem gave a very important Janissary position to Hafiz Ahmed Pasha, the new husband of Murad's sister, Fatma. However, this was too much for the Sipahis and the Janissaries. In the end, it was the event that marked the beginning of Murad’s absolute monarchy.

The absolute monarch

In 1632, after the appointment of Hafiz Ahmed Pasha, a Sipahis and Janissary rebellion broke out, during which the rebels executed several loyal men of Sultan Murad, including his close friend Musa Çelebi. To make matters worse, the soldiers publicly demanded that Murad show them his younger brothers. By doing so, they wanted to signal to him that if they wanted to, they could replace him with one of his brothers; on the other hand, such unfounded rumors circulated that Murad and Kösem got rid of the princes. Murad was forced to show his younger brothers. Murad never forgot this and never forgave either the rebels or his brothers. In fact, Murad was immeasurably humiliated at that time, he lost his allies and close friends. No ruler could leave that unrevenged. However, Murad was thoughtful and intelligent enough not to take revenge immediately but only execute the chief rebels when his power was consolidated a few months later.

Either way, after the rebellion in May 1632, Murad took control and resigned his mother from the regent position. Kösem Sultan did not object, she stood aside, but she would have tried to help her son, show him the way. Murad did not appreciate this and did not listen to his mother's advice. Murad was compulsively trying to keep his mother away from politics, and it is clear from his actions that he was disturbed by his mother’s great influence. That is why, as soon as he took power under his own control, Murad sought to replace his mother's men, such as his own brother-in-law, Hafiz Ahmed Pasha, who had already been mentioned, so that he could begin his monopoly by withdrawing himself from his mother's influence.

Although Kösem and Murad's relationship was undoubtedly stigmatized by the 1632 uprising, it would be a mistake to think that Murad completely excluded his mother from his life. He always respected her as the leader of the harem and as his mother, and according to a report from 1632, he even asked for his mother's opinion on his private life. Namely, Knolles reported at this time that after the birth of Murad's seventh daughter, he wanted to marry (or rather gave the Haseki rank) to the child's mother to express his love for the woman, but before he did so, he asked for Kösem's opinion. It is an interesting question of who this woman was, for we know of the only privileged consort of Murad’s early reign was Haseki Ayşe Sultan, but we do not know exactly who her children were and when they were born.

Also, when Murad left the capital for a shorter period, he always left his mother as a supervisor, and Kösem Sultan always reported everything accurately to her son. When Kösem noticed a problem, she immediately signaled it to Murad with the most detailed description. A concrete example of the former occurred in 1634, when, in Murad's absence, Kösem learnt that a mufti had not accepted one of Murad's decisions and wanted to review it. She immediately sent a message to her son, “My heroic lion, come immediately. There are rumours of intentions towards the throne and people are starting to gather”. Murad didn't need anything more, he returned immediately and executed the muft without any investigation. It was the first such event in the history of the empire, they had never executed a mufti before. On another occasion, Murad asked Kösem Sultan to do a diplomatic talk with the Crimean Khan.

The tyrant

Murad's personality is very divisive. Many consider him simply a tyrant, but he is more than that. Many times his cruel acts certainly stem from his difficult childhood and his fear of dethronement. Plenty of legends are known about his cruelty, like that he killed people for pleasure and often tortured them innocently, but also we can hear such things that the Sultan ran through the streets at night with a sword and killed anyone who came face to face with him. In this form, these are, of course, just lies and very strong exaggerations. But it is a fact true that he had many acts that did not make him particularly popular. Kösem Sultan tried to influence her son in every possible way and tried to cushion her son’s aggressive actions with her own charities.

Murad banned alcohol and tobacco and even closed all cafes because he thought the Janissaries and Sipahis gathered and allied against him there. And whoever broke the rules could face severe punishment, even the death penalty. To keep his orders, he often go to the streets in disguise and acted in person against those who violated the ordinance. But it is also a fact that if he experienced an injustice or a frustrating thing at these times, he also tried to do against it. He also changed a lot of basic laws, tightened penalties, and made the death penalty more common for even minor offenses. Legends commemorate a case in which he executed a vizier for beating his mother-in-law. At other times, an ambassador, Alvise Contarini, was imprisoned for a minor crime. Contarini's accounts became unreliable after this incident, as he often wrote lies and exaggerations about Murad because of his personal resentments. This was the case, for example, when Contarini reported that Murad was systematically threatening his mother, siblings, and concubines with a beating. However, all the other evidence reports statethe opposite, claiming he was very nice to his family, so behind that account, perhaps Contarini’s dislike have been the only reason.

While there was no doubt that Murad’s austerity was excessive, he managed to put the empire in order, chaos and anarchy seemed to actually be resolved. Murad sat on the throne after chaotic times when the sultans were less respected by the people than any time before. In the time of Suleiman I, the sultan was almost a deity, an inaccessible, superior creature. And a sultan had to maintain this appearance in order to rule an empire of this size. In the chaos that followed the death of Ahmed I, the people saw, on the example of Osman, that the Sultan was indeed a mortal, simple man, the divine image built over the centuries was destroyed. Murad tried to rebuild this. When this did not go in an easy way, he did so in the way of violence and rigor, but anyway he established order in his country.

Not surprising, that Murad considered Yavuz Selim I as his role model, who controlled with strictness, and who did not tolerate contradiction. Murad, following the theory of his teacher, believed that the decline of the empire began during Suleiman's reign, so it was clear that a former successful sultan had to be imitated by him. In addition, Murad had an undisguised goal of restoring the old succession-system. Although he owed his own life to the change of the succession-system, he still believed it posed too many dangers if a Sultan had rivals roughly the same age and same education as him. While many people clearly condemn this, we have to admit, there was truth in this. The brutal execution of Osman and the way as they used Mustafa as a puppet, are all good examples of how dangerous was the existence of brothers. Murad wanted his own son as his heir, which is why he executed his younger brothers over time, except for the mentally unstable Ibrahim. This, by the way, raises several questions, especially about the sons of Murad.

There are quite a lot of question-marks about Murad’s children. We know from Evliya Çelebi's accounts that Murad had many sons, but almost without exception they all died in infancy, for they were born in rather poor health. Unfortunately, for most of his children, we don’t know when they died. What is certain is that in 1634, according to an ambassadorial report, he had two infant sons in poor health. However, despite these, we must assume that when Murad executed his brothers (1635, 1638) there must have been at least one living son of his who was no longer an infant. His eldest son, Ahmed, was born in 1627 and many say he lived the longest, though no exact date is available for his death. There are also those who say that Murad did not have an older living son at these times, he simply wanted the end the dynasty, so he killed his brothers. The latter is supported by the fact that at the time of Ibrahim I's accession (1640) there was not a single son of Murad alive, so perhaps none of them were alive in Murad's last years. However, this does not mean that in 1635 and 1638 he did not have a son who was still alive. All we know from an ambassadorial account from 1637 is that at least 6 sons of Murad died before the age of one, and the health of the others was very fragile. But we don’t know what and how many children the author meant by the others.

Murad, the individual

We are forced to consider Murad as a tyrant in some ways, even with the utmost benevolence, as his decrees and his punishments, often unbalanced with the degree of sin, suggest so. At the same time, Evliya Çelebi's descriptions reveal much more about Murad's personality. Based on these, it seems that the cruel Murad was just a mask behind which the sultan hid his true nature. Murad believed that people and his soldiers will respect him only if they were afraid of him. We must understand that in such era it was logical. All his actions suggest that also, so maybe that’s why he played the cruel Murad role. Of course, this could not have been very far from his true personality, since otherwise, he would not have been able to carry out his cruelty that much.

But what do we know about Murad, the individual? According to others, he was an extremely intelligent, educated man with a very good sense of humor and was a talented poet. According to Evliya, "He was an emperor with a dervish’s nature, kind-hearted and devil-may-care." The latter analogy may have been particularly fitting to Murad because he had great respect and appreciation for the whirling dervishes. So much that he honored a dervish named Ömer with the address "my father." By the way, they often made music together with Ömer. Murad wrote the lyrics and the dervish added the melody. And we know for sure that, contrary to rumors, Murad was not crazy. He was characterized by a certain level of paranoia, but given what had happened to him in the past - he first-hand experienced his brother's death and then his half-brother's brutal murder - was not particularly surprising. However, among the people he loved and trusted, Murad blossomed and showed his true face. The real Murad was a young man in full force, with whom they could humorize even about the most personal things, with whom they could have fun and converse about serious things at the same time. However, Evliya did not doubt that Murad was a very stubborn and strong-minded man, especially towards his mother.

Evliya is also associated with a famous (or infamous) story that many consider the Sultan to be homosexual. The point of Evliya’s story is that they talked to the sultan about a beautiful person, Handan, who the sultan loves and who Evliya says is really charming also. According to the story, the sultan asked Handan to take a rose from his/her hair and give it to Evliya to cheer up the grumpy Evliya. There would be basically nothing special about the story if it all happened in a Western empire. However, knowing the customs of the Ottoman Empire, it becomes clear to us that Handan could not have been a woman, since a harem concubine could not be in the company of foreign men, especially not with uncovered hair. It also makes it difficult to accurately recognize Handan that the name 'Handan' is a unisex name and that there is no male or female gender in the Ottoman language so we cannot know if Evliya talks about a he or a she. Because of this, many people think that Handan was a eunuch or a young man. It is important to know that in the Ottoman Empire until the mid-1800s, homosexuality was accepted, not punishable. In most brothels (because they were also present in the empire) not only women but also men were available. In addition, since Sultan Mehmed II, pederasty has been accepted among sultans and pashas. Mehmed II (who was probably really gay or bisexual) inherited this ancient Greek tradition, which refers to the homosexual relationship between an adult man and a man much younger than him, after the conquare of Constantinople. Later, there were sultans who took advantage of this opportunity and there were those who did not. However, pederasty was primarily a status symbol rather than a relationship driven by sexual desire.

Many have also rumored that Kösem Sultan has sent men to Murad’s bed when he was young, but there is no indication that this is true. Either way, Murad’s sexual orientation will probably never be revealed and maybe it doesn’t even matter. There were two significant concubines in his life, Haseki Ayşe Sultan, who dominated his reign almost throughout, and who, in addition to Esmehan Kaya, must have been the mother of several other children; and there was another woman whose name could not be reconstructed and who came to Murad's life in the last years of his reign and who became a Haseki also. Ayşe, however, was certainly Murad's favorite throughout his reign, as he even took her with him to his Revan campaign. This thing occurred in the case of the early sultans quite often, but from the early modern period of the Empire, sultans did not let their wives and consorts accompany them to war as it was quite risky.

From the tyrant to the adored sultan

Like Murad’s predecessors, he was aware that the fastest way to gain popularity was a successful campaign. Murad was under particular pressure, for at the beginning of his reign they lost particularly important territories, so he had to somehow rectify this. Murad was truly a man of a warrior nature, and there are also legends about his physical performances. It is true that his health was not very good, but he had a very strong physique. He was a tall, robust man with black hair and eyes and pale skin. So Murad, in addition to being handsome with his physical strength, was also able to impress his subjects on a regular basis. Legends revolve about bows that no one but him could stretch or maces that no one could swing but him. According to Evliya, the sultan often dropped his clothes from one minute to the next and began wrestling with a guard just nearby. On other occasions, the sultan simply lifted Evliya over his head without any particular effort. Such a fit, and quite an agile sultan in relation to his stature, was well suited to warfare. And such a sultan was finally able to convince his subjects and soldiers that they could win the war with him!

After several unsuccessful attempts by his pashas in the first half of his reign to reclaim the lost territories, Murad decided to embark on a campaign in person. His first campaign took place in 1635, and the goal was to recapture Yerevan (Revan). They left Üsküdar in the spring and although they often stopped on the way to execute some bandits in Anatolia or to execute those against whom there were many complaints, they even reached Yerevan by July. Roughly a week after the siege, on August 8, Mirgune Tahmasp Quli Khan, the governor who ruled the castle, gave up the castle and surrendered. Murad appreciated that Mirgune Tahmasp Quli Khan accepted him as his new ruler and a deep friendship developed between them. The man's new name became Emirgün and he was with Murad until his death. According to some, it was Emirgün who pushed Murad to start drinking alcohol more and more often.

After the victory, Murad went to Tabriz with his troops, but they could not keep the city, and Murad also got sick, so they traveled to Van in the winter. And by the end of the year, they had returned to Istanbul, where Kösem Sultan was waiting for her son with a huge ceremony. The whole city celebrated Murad’s victory. Murad immediately ordered the construction of a pavilion inside Topkapi Palace in honor of the victory. It later became the Revan Pavilion. Murad planned every step wisely and always acted when the conditions were right. He did so when he dealt with the chief rebels of the 1632 uprising, and he did so when he wanted to get rid of his half-brothers, Bayezid and Suleiman, who posed a great threat to him. Murad knew that fratricide was not to the liking of the people, he knew that a sultan could easily be dethroned for this, but he definitely wanted to carry out his plans and bring back the inheritance from father to son. He, therefore, ordered the execution of the two princes at the moment when his popularity was at its highest and when the whole empire celebrated the victory of his. Although the execution of the two princes naturally shocked the people, everyone was preoccupied with the victory, the booming economy, so they did not turn against Murad.

Murad's popularity was not really diminished by the fact that the Safavids recaptured Yerevan in the spring of the following year. Of course, he had no idea to accept this either, but he waited again for the most opportune moment. It finally came in the spring of 1638. This time, he did not satisfied with Yerevan, he set a goal for Baghdad. By the end of October, he had already reached Baghdad and encamped around the city, and began the siege. On December 24, Bektash Khan, the governor of Baghdad, surrendered, so in January Murad was finally able to enter the coveted city, as did his great predecessor, Suleiman I, 100 years ago (in 1534). In Baghdad, Murad ordered that the mausoleum, previously built by Suleiman, be repaired and renovated.

Although Murad had a strong physique, his health was never good, and the horrific camp conditions worsened it. Especially since he mostly trained with his soldiers, he spent a lot of time with them to gain their support. His worsening alcoholism also did not help the situation. In Diyarbekir, the sultan eventually became so ill that they had to station there for months before they could reach Istanbul. While Murad was lying in bed, his Grand Vezir Tayyar Mehmed Pasha made an agreement with the Persian Shah to finally end the war that had lasted since 1603 and restored the Amasia Treaty of 1555, restoring peace between the two countries and allowing the Ottoman Empire to keep Baghdad.

Returning to Istanbul in June, the Sultan was greeted again with a huge celebration, glorified by all. True to his custom, he crowned this victory by building a new pavilion the Baghdad Pavilion. Unfortunately, he also tried to keep his other custom, so he ordered his brother, Prince Kasim (and perhaps Prince Ibrahim along with him) to the Revan Pavilion, where Prince Kasim was executed, and some said Ibrahim's life was saved only by the prayer and threat of their mother, Kösem Sultan. Others say Murad didn't want to execute Ibrahim just Kasim. Kasim's execution was particularly significant because, unlike the two princes who had been executed earlier, Kasim was a full-brother to Murad, and, according to contemporary accounts, they were even close to each other. By this time Murad was beginning to be overwhelmed by his illness, alcoholism, and paranoia.

His death and legacy

After Murad returned to Istanbul, he was in very poor health for months. He had several chronic diseases, but we don’t know much about them. Some said he may have had epilepsy, others said he may have had similar digestive problems as his father (Ahmed I) and grandmother (Handan Sultan). These were further aggravated by combat injuries, as Murad himself fought in his campaigns; and cirrhosis due to alcoholism.

Murad was able to recover from his fighting injuries, as in the early 1640s he celebrated Ramadan without any problems, met his vezirs, and took part in events. In fact, to further tire his already sick body, he regularly horse-rided to places, went hunting, and alcoholized with his friends. On one such occasion, Murad lost consciousness and was taken back to Topkapi Palace by his guards. The sultan sometimes regained consciousness, it seems that by this time he already knew he was dying. At his special request, he was transferred to the Revan Pavilion, where he had executed his younger brother a few months earlier. Maybe that's why he wanted to die there too. Not knowing who had been by his side in his last hours, but they probably couldn't have kept his mother away even if they had wanted to as they both were in the palace. According to some, on his deathbed, Murad also ordered the execution of Ibrahim, but there is no evidence of this.

A huge crowd gathered for Murad's funeral, his black horse was walking adorned in front of his coffin, and several of those present sobbed loudly. Thus, it is not true that the people rejoiced at the death of the Sultan. Although Murad was not perfect, he performed many cruel deeds, yet after decades he was the first sultan to conquer and he was the one who successfully restored the peace of the empire for which the people loved him. Murad IV was the last sultan to conquer in the true classical sense since no more sultans led a campaign in person. Murad resembled Yavuz Selim I or Suleiman I, who ruled in the early 1500s, rather than his immediate predecessors. Thus his person gave a strong end to the age of conquests and the heyday of the Ottoman Empire. He was buried in the mausoleum of his father, Ahmed I, because during his short life he did not have the opportunity to build his own mausoleum, and, according to many, he was not even preoccupied with architecture.

Used sources: C. Finkel - Osman's Dream: The Story of the Ottoman Empire; L. Peirce - The imperial harem; G. Börekçi - Factions and favourites at the courts of Sultan Ahmed I (r. 1603-17) and his immediate predecessors; S. Faroqhi - The Ottoman Empire and the World; C. Imber - The Ottoman Empire 1300-1650; F. Suraiya, K. Fleet - The Cambridge History of Turkey 1453-1603; G. Piterberg - An Ottoman Tragedy, History and Historiography at Play; F. Suraiya - The Cambridge History of Turkey, The Later Ottoman Empire, 1603–1839; Howard - A History of the Ottoman Empire; Öztuna - Devletler ve Hanedanlar; Uluçay - Padişahların Kadınları ve Kızları; : F. Davis - The Palace of Topkapi in Istanbul; Y. Öztuna - Genç Osman ve IV. Murad; G. Junne - The black eunuchs of the Ottoman Empire; R. Dankoff - An Ottoman Mentality: The World of Evliya Çelebi; R. Murphey - ‘The Functioning of the Ottoman Army under Murad IV (1623–1639/1032–1049):Key to Understanding of the Relationship Between Center and Periphery; S. Faroqhi - Another Mirror for Princes, The Public Image of the Ottoman Sultans and Its Reception

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Születése és gyermekkora

Murad 1612 júliusában született I. Ahmed és kedvenc ágyasa, Mahpeyker Köszem második fia és ötödik gyermekeként. Ahmednek Köszem két fia mellett volt még egy fia, Oszmán herceg, a legidősebb gyermek. Murad ahhoz a herceggenerációhoz tartozott, akiknek először a történelemben nem kellett a testvérgyilkosság törvényétől tartaniuk. A II. Mehmed által törvénybe foglalt, de nála sokkal idősebb hagyomány szerint a trónralépő szultánnak minden testvérét ki kell végeztetni, a rend fenntartásának érdekében. Ahmed szultán azonban ennek nem tett eleget, mikor 1603-as trónralépése után életben hagyta öccsét, Musztafát. Így Ahmed fiai már egy új világba születtek. Tény azonban, hogy Ahmed sokáig nem volt biztos döntésében, így többször is megkísérelte Musztafa kivégzését, de végül a lelkiismerete és Köszem győzködése használt, így Musztafa megmenekült.

Murad koragyermekkorát relatív nyugalomban élhette, hiszen apja népszerű szultán volt, édesanyja a Haszeki szultána rangot viselte, igen befolyásos és népszerű asszony volt. Mindez azonban 1617-ben megváltozott. Ahmed szultán meghalt és egyfajta örökösödési káosz sújtotta a birodalmat. Az embereknek elege volt a testvérgyilkosságból, azonban Ahmed nem rendelekzett arról, hogy ki kövesse a trónon: öccse, Musztafa vagy legidősebb fia, Oszmán. Végül Musztafa trónralépésével hivatalosan is megváltozott az örökösödés, többé nem apáról fiúra szállt a trón, hanem a legidősebb férfi foglalta el azt. Murad és testvérei így életben maradhattak, azonban elzárva éltek a Topkapi Palotában, míg édesanyjuk Köszem a Régi Palotába költözött lányaival.

A következő évek meglehetősen zavarosak voltak, Musztafát mentális betegsége miatt hamarosan trónfosztották és Murad féltestvére, Oszmán került a trónra. Oszmán nagyon népszerűtlen, rossz uralkodó volt, aki bár uralkodásának korai szakaszában igyekezett korrekt viszonyt ápolni Köszem szultánával, később 1621 januárjában kivégeztette Murad édesbátyját, Mehmed herceget. Murad és öccsei minden bizonnyal rettegésben éltek innentől, anyjuktól, nővéreiktől távol, elzárva, kiszolgáltatva egy zsarnok uralkodónak, és az sem kizárt, hogy tanúi voltak a kivégzésnek. Végül Oszmán brutális meggyilkolása hozott enyhülést számukra. Ám ugyanakkor életreszóló leckét is adott Muradnak arról, hogy még egy szultán sem lehet biztonságban.

Trónralépés

Oszmán brutális kivégzése Halime szultánához és fiához, I. Musztafához volt köthető, így végül újra trónfosztották Musztafa szultánt, anyját pedig száműzték a Régi Palotába. Az öröklési sorban a mindössze 11 éves Murad következett. Korára való tekintettel a divan és ulema édesanyját, Köszem szultánát nevezte ki régensnek, míg Murad maga elég éretté nem válik az uralkodáshoz. Murad bár fellélegezhetett, hiszen ő lett a szultán, ilyen nehéz gyermekkorral bizonyára nem volt könnyű új életet kezdeni. Emellett fontos leszögezni, hogy Murad utoljára öt évesen 1617-ben tölthetett hosszabb időt édesanyjával, az 1617 és 1623 közötti hat évet anyjától elszakítva, bezárva élte, így feltehetőleg az is komoly nehézséget okozott kettejüknek, hogy újra kialakítsanak egy anya-fia kapcsolatot.

Murad nehezen kezelhető gyermek volt, Köszem több levele is fennmaradt, melyekben a nagyvezírnek panaszkodik arról, mennyire nem bír Muraddal és, hogy az mennyire nem hallgat rá, sőt olykor napokig találkozni sem hajlandó vele. Amellett, hogy az elszigeteltség éket vert közéjük, hasonló személyiségük sem segített sokat. Mind a ketten vezéregyéniségek voltak, igen erős akarattal, így nehezen jöttek ki egymással. Sokszor vitatkoztak egymással, mely viták után Köszem volt az, aki békülni szeretett volna Muraddal. Egyik nagy veszekedésük után például egy lovat ajándékozott fiának, máskor hatalmas ünnepséget rendezett neki. Emellett Köszem rendszeresen fejezte ki aggodalmát Murad egészségével kapcsolatban, ami arra enged következtetni, hogy talán Murad már ekkor egészségügyi problémákkal küzdött.

A birodalom Ahmed halálától kezdve fokozatosan süllyedt anarchiába. Több fontos területet is elveszítettek és hiába próbálták visszahódítani ezeket, nem jártak sikerrel. Továbbá a II. Oszmán kivégzése után fellázadó Abaza Mehmed Pasa dacára annak, hogy mindenkit felelősségre vontak a gyilkosságért, nem volt hajlandó elismerni Muradot új uralkodójaként és folytatta a lázadást. Ezt a lázadást sem sikerült leverni az ellene kiküldött pasáknak. A helyzetet fokozandó, 1625-ben pestis tört ki a fővárosban és több, mint százezer áldozattal járt. Murad először szintén ebben az évben lázadt anyja szava ellen. Köszem ekkor kötött egy megállapodást a spanyolokkal, Muradnak azonban nem tetszett az egyezség, ezért azonnal visszahívatta azt.

1628-ban aztán Murad is súlyos beteg lett, hetekig feküdt ágyban. Pontos betegsége nem derült ki, egyesek szerint ekkor kezdődött epilepsziája, mások szerint emésztőrendszeri problémái voltak. Öröm volt az ürömben, hogy legalább ebben az évben sikerült leverni Abaza Mehmed Pasa lázadását és elfogni a férfit. Ugyanebben az évben Murad újabb jelét adta annak, hogy hamarosan át kívánja venni az uralkodást és nyíltan szembe ment anyjával, amikor felbontotta nővére Fatma házasságát az admirális Çatalcalı Haşan Pasával, akit anyja kiemelt figyelemben részesített. Emellett Muradot egyre jobbn zavarta, hogy anyja szemethuny a korrupció felett. Köszem maga is nagy előnyökhöz juttatta az általa favorizált pasákat, ami sokakból váltott ki ellenérzéseket, különösen fiából, Muradból. Így került például fontos janicsár pozícióba Murad nővérének, Fatma szultánának az új férje, Hafiz Ahmed Pasa. Ez azonban a szpáhiknak és a Köszemet szerető janicsároknak is sok volt. Végül ez volt az az esemény, mely kijelölte Murad egyeduralmának kezdetét.

Az egyeduralkodó

1632-ben, Hafiz Ahmed Pasa kinevezése után szpáhi és janicsár lázadás tört ki, melynek során a lázadók kivégezték a nagyvezírt és Murad szultán több hűséges emberét, többet között közeli barátját, Musa Çelebit. Hogy a helyzet tovább bonyolódjon a katonák nyilvánosan követelték, hogy Murad mutassa meg nekik öccseit. Ezzel jelezni akarták neki, hogy ha akarnák le tudnák cserélni valamelyik öccsére; másrészt pedig keringtek olyan alaptalan pletykák, hogy Murad és Köszem megszabadultak a hercegektől. Murad kénytelen volt engedni a követeléseknek és bemutatta öccseit, akiket a katonák ekkor éltetni kezdtek. Murad ezt sosem felejtette el és sosem bocsátotta meg sem a lázadóknak, sem testvéreinek. Muradot tulajdonképpen ekkor mérhetetlenül megalázták, szövetségeseit, közeli barátját meggyilkolták. Ezt egy uralkodó sem hagyhatta. Murad azonban volt annyira megfontolt és intelligens, hogy nem azonnal kezdett bosszúhadjáratba, hanem csak akkor végeztette ki a hangadókat, mikor néhány hónap múlva hatalmát sikerült megszilárdítani.

Akárhogyan is, a lázadás után 1632 májusában Murad saját kezébe vette az irányítást és lemondatta édesanyját a régensi pozícióból. Köszem nem ellenkezett, félreállt, azonban igyekezett volna segíteni fiát, utat mutatni neki. Murad ezt nem értékelte és nem hallgatott édesanyja tanácsaira. Murad kényszeresen igyekezett anyját távol tartani a politikától és cselekedeteiből egyértelműen kiolvasható, hogy zavarta őt anyja nagy befolyása, az, hogy az elmúlt években sokkal nagyobb hatalma volt anyjának, mint neki. Épp ezért, amint a hatalmat saját irányítása alá vonta, Murad igyekezett anyja embereit - így például saját sógorát, a már említett Hafiz Ahmed Pasát - sorra leváltani, hogy édesanyja befolyása alól kivonva magát, elkezdhesse egyeduralmát.

Bár Köszem és Murad viszonyát kétségkívül megbélyegezte az 1632-es lázadás, hiba lenne azt gondolni, hogy Murad teljesen kizárta életéből édesanyját. Annak hárem vezetői tisztségét és édesanya mivoltát mindig tiszteletben tartotta, sőt egy 1632-ből származó beszámoló szerint kifejezetten fontos volt neki anyja véleménye a magánéletét illetően. Knolles ugyanis arról számolt ekkor be, hogy Murad hetekik lányának születése után feleségül akarta venni (vagy inkább Haszeki rangra emelni) a gyermek anyját, hogy kifejezze szeretetét a nő irányába, de mielőtt ezt megtette volna, kikérte Köszem véleményét. Érdekes kérdés, hogy ki volt ez a nő, ugyanis Murad korai uralkodásából egyetlen kiemelt státuszú ágyast ismerünk, Haszeki Ayşe szultánát, azonban nem tudjuk pontosan, kik voltak a gyermekei és mikor születtek.

Emellett mikor Murad hosszabb rövidebb időre elhagyta a fővárost, mindig anyját hagyta meg felügyelőnek, Köszem pedig mindig mindenről pontosan beszámolt fiának. Amikor Köszem problémát észlelt, azonnal jelezte azt a legrészletesebb leírással Murad számára. Előbbire egy konkrét példa történt 1634-ben, amikor Murad távollétében Köszem arról értesült, hogy egy müfti nem fogadta el Murad egyik döntését és felül akarta azt bírálni. Azonnal üzenetet küldött fiának "Én harcos oroszlán fiam, gyere azonnal! Pletykák terjednek a trónoddal kapcsolatban, az emberek pedig mozgolódnak." Muradnak nem kellett több, azonnal visszatért és minden vizsgálat nélkül kivégezte a müftit. Ez volt az első ilyen esemény a birodalom történetében, korábban sosem végeztek ki müftit. Egy másik alkalommal Murad Köszemet bízta meg, hogy diplomáciai megbeszéléseket folytasson a Krími Kánsággal.

A zsarnok

Murad személyisége nagyon megosztó. Sokan egyszerűen zsarnoknak tartják, azonban több volt ennél. Sokszor kegyetlen cselekedetei minden bizonnyal nehéz gyermekkorából származnak és a trónfosztástól való rettegéséből. Rengeteg legenda ismert, miszerint élvezettel gyilkolt embereket és sokszor ártatlanul kínozta őket, de olyanokat is hallani, hogy a szultán éjszaka kivont karddal rohangált az utcákon és megölt bárkit aki szembe jött vele. Ilyen formában ezek természetesen nagyon erős túlzások, ám tény, hogy sok olyan cselekedete volt, melyek nem tették különösebben népszerűvé. Köszem szultána igyekezett minden létező módon hatni fiára és saját jótékonykodásaival próbálta tompítani fia agresszív cselekedeteit.

Murad megtiltotta az alkohol és dohány fogyasztását, sőt minden kávézót bezáratott, mert szerinte a janicsárok és szpáhik itt gyülekeztek és szövetkeztek ellene. Aki pedig megszegte a szabályokat, súlyos büntetésre számíthatott, akár halálbüntetésre is. Hogy parancsait betartassa gyakran ment utcára álruhában és lépett fel a rendeletet megszegőkkel szemben személyesen. Ám az is tény, hogy ha ekkor igazságtalanságot vagy elkeserítő dolgot tapasztalt, az ellen is igyekezett tenni. Emellett sokat változtatott az alapvető törvényeken is, a büntetéseket megszigorította, gyakoribbá vált a halálbüntetés kisebb vétségek esetében is. A legendák megemlékeznek egy esetről, amikor egy vezírt végeztetett ki, amiért az megverte saját anyósát. Máskor pedig egy követet, Alvise Contarinit záratta börtönbe egy jelentéktelen bűnért. Contarini beszámolói ezen eset után megbízhatatlanná váltak, ugyanis gyakran írt hazugságokat, túlzásokat Muradról, személyes ellenérzései miatt. Ilyen volt például, mikor Contarini arról számolt be, hogy Murad ütlegeléssel fenyegeti rendszersen anyját, testvéreit és ágyasait. Azonban minden más bizonyíték épp az ellenkezőjéről számol be, így emögött a beszámoló mögött valószínűleg Contarini ellenszenve lehetett az egyetlen ok.

Bár kétségtelen, hogy Murad szigora túlzó volt, ennek köszönhetően sikerült rendbe szednie a birodalmat, a káosz és anarchia ténylegesen megoldódni látszott. Murad olyan kaotikus idők után ült a trónon, mikor a szultánokat kevésbé tisztelte a nép, mint régen. I. Szulejmán idejében a szultán szinte istenség volt, egy elérhetetlen, felsőbbrendű teremtmény. Egy szultánnak pedig, hogy uralhasson egy ekkora birodalmat fenn is kellett tartani ezt a látszatot. Az I. Ahmed halála után bekövetkező káoszban, mikor a nép Oszmán példáján meglátta, hogy a szultán igenis halandó, egyszerű ember, lerombolódott az évszázadok alatt felépített isteni kép. Murad ezt igyekezett újjáépíteni. Amikor ez szép szóval nem ment, akkor erőszakkal és szigorral tette, de rendet teremtett az országába.

Nem is meglepő ez tudva, hogy Murad példaképének I. Yavuz Szelimet tartotta, aki vasszigorral irányított, nem tűrte az ellentmondást. Murad - tanítója elméletét követve - úgy vélte, hogy a birodalom hanyatlása Szulejmán uralkodása alatt kezdődött, emiatt egyértelműen egy korábbi sikeres szultánt kellett imitálni. Emellett Muradnak nem titkolt célja volt a régi öröklési rend visszahozása is. Bár saját életét a törvény változásának köszönehtte, ő mégis úgy vélte, túl sok veszélyt tartogat magában, ha a szultánnak vele nagyjából egy idős vetélytársai vannak. Bár sokan egyértelműen elítélik ezért, be kell lássuk, volt igazság ebben. Oszmán brutális kivégzése, Musztafa bábként rángatása mind jól példázza, hogy a szultánok egyeduralma és kiemelt státusza megszűnt azzal, hogy hozzájuk hasonló vetélytársaik voltak és azzal, hogy elkezdtek érző lényeknek tűnni. Murad saját fiát akarta maga után a trónon látni, emiatt végeztette ki idővel öccseit, kivéve a mentálisan sérült Ibrahimot. Ez egyébként felvet több kérdést is, különös tekintettel Murad fiaira.

Murad gyermekeivel kapcsolatban elég sok a kérdőjel. Evliya Çelebi beszámolóiból tudjuk, hogy Muradnak rengeteg fia született, ám szinte kivétel nélkül mind elhunyt csecsemő korában, ugyanis meglehetősen rossz egészséggel jöttek világra. Sajnos legtöbb gyermeke esetében nem tudjuk, hogy mikor hunytak el. Annyi bizonyos, hogy 1634-ben egy követi beszámoló szerint két gyenge egészségű csecsemő fia volt. Azonban ezek ellenére is azt kell feltételezzük, hogy mikor Murad kivégeztette testvéreit (1635, 1638) legalább egy élő fia kellett, hogy legyen, aki nem csecsemő volt már. Legidősebb fia, Ahmed 1627-ben született és sokak szerint ő élt legtovább, igaz pontos dátum nem áll rendelekzésre halálát illetően. Vannak olyanok is, akik szerint Muradnak nem volt idősebb élő fia ekkoriban, egyszerűen csak a dinasztia végét akarta, ezért ölette meg testvéreit. Ezutóbbit alátámasztja a tény, hogy I. Ibrahim trónralépésekor Muradnak nem volt már élő fia, így talán Murad utolsó éveiben sem élt már egyikük sem. Azonban ez nem jelenti azt, hogy 1635-ben és 1638-ban sem volt már élő fia. Annyit tudunk 1637-ből egy követi beszámoló alapján, hogy Murad legalább 6 fia még egy éves kora előtt meghalt, a többiek egészsége pedig nagyon törékeny. Ám nem tudjuk, hogy a szerző mit és hány gyermeket értett a többiek alatt.

A magánember

Szultánként Muradot a legnagyobb jóindulattal is kénytelenek vagyunk valamilyen módon zsarnoknak tartani, hiszen rendeletei és sokszor a bűn mértékével nem egyensúlyban lévő büntetései erre utalnak. Ugyanakkor Evliya Çelebi leírásaiból igen sok minden tárul fel Muradról az emberről. Ezek alapján olyabá tűnik, hogy a kegyetlen Murad csupán egy álarc volt, ami mögé valódi természetét rejtette a szultán. Murad úgy vélte, hogy csak akkor tiszteli népe és katonái, ha félnek tőle. Minden cselekedete erre utal, így talán emiatt játszotta ezt a szerepet. Természetesen valódi személyiségétől sem állhatott nagyon távol ez, hiszen máskülönben nem tudta volna végrehajtani kegyetlenségeit.

Mit tudunk azonban mégis Muradról az emberről? Többek szerint rendkívül intelligens, művelt férfi volt, akinek igen jó volt a humora és tehetséges költő is volt. Evliya szerint "egy császár ő, lelkében egy dervis természetével." Utóbbi hasonlat különösen illő lehetett Muradhoz, mert nagyon tisztelte és elismerte a kerengő derviseket. Olyannyira, hogy egy Ömer nevű dervist az "apám" megszólítással tisztelt meg. Ömerrel egyébként gyakran szereztek zenét együtt. Murad a szöveget írta meg, a dervis pedig a dallamot adta hozzá. Azt pedig biztosan tudjuk, hogy a pletykákkal ellentétben, Murad nem volt őrült. Bizonyos szintű paranoia jellemezte ugyan, de ez figyelmebe véve a korábban vele történteket, azt, hogy első kézből tapasztalta bátyja halálát, majd féltestvére brutális meggyilkolását, nem különösebben meglepő. Azonban azon emberek között, akiket szeretett és akikben bízott Murad kivirágzott és megmutatta valódi arcát. Az igazi Murad egy ereje teljében lévő fiatal férfi volt, akivel a legszemélyesebb dolgokkal is lehetett humorizálni, akivel egyszerre lehetett mulatni és komoly dolgokról társalogni. Azt azonban Evliya sem vonta kétségbe, hogy Murad igen önfejű és hirtelen haragú ember volt, különösen anyjával szemben.

Szintén Evliyához köthető egy híres (vagy hírhedt) történet is, mely alapján sokan tartják napjainkban homoszexuálisnak a szultánt. Evliya történetének lényege, hogy egy gyönyörű személyről, Handanról beszélgettek a szultánnal, akit a szultán szeret és aki Evliya szerint is igazán elragadó. A történet szerint a szultán megkérte Handant, hogy a hajából vegyen ki egy rózsát és adja Evliyának, hogy ezzel felvidítsa a rosszkedvű Evliyát. A történetben alapvetően nem lenne semmi különös, ha mindez egy nyugati birodalomban történik. Ismerve a birodalom szokásait azonban egyértelművé válik számunkra, hogy Handan nem lehetett egy nő, hiszen egy háremhölgy nem tartózkodhatott idegen férfiak társaságában, különösen nem fedetlen hajjal. Emellett nehezíti Handan pontos felismerését, hogy a Handan egy uniszex név és hogy az oszmán nyelvben nincs férfi és női nem. Emiatt sokan gondolják, hogy Handan egy eunuch vagy egy fiatal férfi volt.Fontos tudnunk, hogy az Oszmán Birodalomban az 1800-as évek közepéig a homoszexualitás elfogadott volt, nem volt büntetendő. A legtöbb bordélyban (mert ezek is voltak a birodalomban) nem csak nők, de férfiak is elérhetőek voltak. Emellett II. Mehmed szultán óta a pederasztia elfogadott volt a szultánok és pasák között. Ezt az ókori görög hagyományt, mely egy felnőtt férfi és egy nála jóval fiatalabb férfi közti homoszexuális kapcsolatot jelenti, II. Mehmed (aki valósznűleg tényleg meleg vagy biszexuális volt) vette át, Konstantinápoly elfoglalása után. Később volt olyan szultán, mely élt ezzel a lehetőséggel és voltak akik nem. Azonban a pederasztia elsődlegesen inkább státuszszimbólum volt, mint szexuális vágy által hajtott kapcsolat.

Sokan pletykálták azt is, hogy Köszem szultána gyermekkora óta férfiakat küldött Murad ágyába, azonban semmi nem utal arra, hogy ez igaz lenne. Akárhogy is, Murad szexuális orientációja valószínűleg sosem fog kiderül és talán nem is számít. Életében két jelentős ágyas volt, Ayşe Haszeki, aki uralkodását szinte végig dominálta és aki Esmehan Kaya mellett bizonyára több gyermek édesanyja is volt; és egy másik nő, akinek nevét nem sikerült rekonstruálni és aki Murad utolsó éveiben került mellé és lett Haszeki. Ayşe volt azonban Murad kedvence minden bizonnyal uralma alatt végig, hiszen a nőt még revani hadjáratára is magával vitte. Ez a korai szultánok esetében előfordult, ám évszázadok óta nem éltek a hagyománnyal, hiszen megleehtősen kockázatos volt.

Zsarnokból az imádott szultán

Murad elődeihez hasonlóan tisztában volt azzal, hogy a leggyorsabb út a népszerűséghez egy sikeres hadjárat. Muradon különösen nagy volt a nyomás, ugyanis az ő uralkodása elején veszítettek el kifejezetten fontos területeket, így valahogy helyre kellett hoznia ezt. Murad igazán harcos természetű férfi volt, emellett fizikai teljesítményeiről is legendák szólnak. Igaz, hogy egészsége nem volt túl jó, de nagyon erős fizikummal bírt. Magas volt, robosztus alkatú, fekete hajú és szemű férfi, halvány bőrrel. Murad amellett tehát, hogy jóképű volt fizikai erejével is rendszeresen tudta lenyűgözni alattvalóit. Legendák keringenek íjakról, melyet rajta kívül senki sem tudott kifeszíteni vagy buzogányokról, melyeket senki nem tudott meglendíteni, csak ő. Evliya szerint a szultán gyakran egyik percről a másikra ledobta ruháit és birkózni kezdett egy éppen a közelben lévő őrrel. Más alkalmakkal a szultán egyszerűen felemelte Evliyát minden különösebb erőfeszítés nélkül a feje fölé. Egy ilyen fitt, és termetéhez képest meglehetősen mozgékony szultánhoz remekül illett a háborúskodás. És egy ilyen szultán végre el tudta hitetni alattvalóival és katonáival, hogy vele megnyerhetik a háborút!

Miután uralkodásának első felében több pasát is küldtek, hogy visszaszerezze az elvesztett területeket, ám minden kísérlet kudarccal végződött, Murad úgy döntött személyesen indul hadjáratra. Első hadjáratára 1635-ben került sor, a cél pedig Yerevan (Revan) visszahódítása volt. Tavasszal indultak Üsküdarból és bár útközben gyakran megálltak, hogy Anatoliában leszámoljanak kisebb bandákkal vagy kivégezzék azokat, akik ellen sok panasz volt, júliusra el is érték Yerevant. Nagyjából egy hét ostrom után, augusztus 8-án a kastélyt uraló helytartó, Mirgune Tahmasp Quli Khan feladta a várat és megadta magát. Murad értékelte, hogy Mirgune Tahmasp Quli Khan elfogadta őt új uralkodójának és mély barátság alakult ki köztük. A férfi új neve, Emirgün lett és a szultán kegyeltjeként haláláig mellette volt. Egyesek szerint Emirgün volt az, akinek hatására Murad egyre gyakrabban kezdett alkoholt fogyasztani.

A győzelem után Murad Tabrizbe ment a csapataival, azonban a várost nem tudták megtartani, ráadásul Murad is beteg lett, így telelni Van-ba utaztak. Év végére pedig visszaérkeztek Isztambulba, ahol Köszem szultána hatalmas ünnepséggel várta fiát. Az egész város Murad győzelmét ünnepelte és éltette a szultánt. Murad azonnal elrendelte egy pavilon építését a Topkapi Palotán belül a győzelem tiszteletére. Ez lett később a Revan Pavilon. Murad minden lépését okosan megtervezte és mindig akkor cselekedett, amikor a körülmények megfelelőek voltak. Így tett akkor is, mikor leszámolt az 1632-es lázadás hangadóival és így tett akkor is, amikor féltestvéreitől, a rá hatalmas veszélyt jelentő Bayezidtől és Szulejmántól kívánt megszabadulni. Murad tudta, hogy a testvérgyilkosság nincs a nép kedvére, tudta, hogy egy szultán könnyen belebukhat ebbe, azonban mindenképpen véghez akarta vinni terveit és vissza akarta hozni az apáról fiúra szálló trónöröklést. Ezért abban a pillanatban adta parancsba a két herceg kivégzését, amikor népszerűsége a legmagasabb volt és az egész birodalom győzelmét ünnepelte. Bár a két herceg kivégzése természetesen megdöbbentette az embereket, mindenki el volt foglalva a győzelemmel, a fellendült gazdasággal, így nem fordultak Murad ellen.

Murad népszerűségét az sem igazán csökkentette, hogy következő év tavaszán a szafavidák visszafoglalták Yerevánt. Természetesen esze ágában sem volt elfogadni ezt, de ismét kivárta a legalkalmasabb pillanatot. Ez végül 1638 tavaszán jött el. Ezúttal nem elégedett meg Yerevannal, Bagdadot tűzte ki céljául. Október végére el is érte Bagdadot és letáborozott a város köré és megkezdte az ostromot. December 24-én Bektash Khan, Bagdad kormányzója megadta magát, így januárban Murad beléphetett végre a hőn áhított városba, úgy mint nagynevű elődje, I. Szulejmán is tette 100 évvel ezelőtt (1534-ben). Bagdadban Murad elrendelte, hogy javíttassák meg és újítsák fel a korábban Szulejmán által építtetett mauzóleumot.

Murad bár erős fizikummal bírt, egészsége sosem volt jó, a rémes tábori körülmények pedig tovább rontottak állapotán. Különös tekintettel arra, hogy legtöbbször katonáival együtt edzett, sok időt töltött velük, hogy ezzel nyerje meg támogatásukat. Súlyosbodó alkoholizmusa szintén nem segítette a helyzetet. Diyarbekirben végül olyan rosszul lett a szultán, hogy hónapokig kellett ott állomásozniuk mielőtt Isztambulba érhettek volna. Amíg Murad a betegágyat nyomta, nagyvezíre Tayyar Mehmed Pasa egyezséget kötött a perzsa sahhal, hogy lezárják végre az 1603 óta tartó háborút, és visszaállították az 1555-ben kötött Amaszia egyezményt, így a két ország között helyreállt a béke, Bagdadot pedig az Oszmán Birodalom megtarthatta.

Júniusban, Isztambulba visszatérve újra hatalmas ünneplés fogadta a szultánt, mindenki dicsőítette. Szokásához híven ezen győzelmét is pavilon építéssel igyekezett megkoronázni, így megépíttette a Bagdad Pavilont. Sajnos más szokását is igyekezett megtartani, így édesöccsét, Kasim herceget (és talán vele együtt Ibrahim herceget is) a Revan Pavilonba kérette, ahol Kasim herceget kivégeztette, Ibrahim életét pedig egyesek szerint csak Köszem szultána könyörgése és fenyegetőzése mentette meg. Mások szerint Ibrahimot nem is akarta kivégeztetni Murad. Kasim kivégzése különösen jelentős volt, ugyanis a két korábban kivégzett herceggel ellentétben Kasim édestestvére volt Muradnak és korabeli beszámolók alapján még közel is álltak egymáshoz. Muradon ekkorra kezdett elhatalmasodni betegsége, alkoholizmusa és paranoiája.

Halála és hagyatéka

Murad Isztambulba való visszatérése után nagyon rossz egészségi állapotban volt, hónapokon keresztül nyomta az ágyat. Több alapbetegsége is volt, azonban ezekről nem tudunk sokat. Egyesek szerint epilepsziás lehetett, mások szerint neki is hasonló emésztőrendszeri problémái lehettek, mint apjának (I. Ahmed) és nagyanyjának (Handan szultána). Ezeket tovább súlyosbították a harci sérülések, hiszen Murad maga is harcolt a hadjáratain; valamint az alkoholizmusa miatt kialakuló májzsugor.

Murad harci sérüléseiből képes volt felépülni, ugyanis 1640 elején a Ramadánt minden gond nélkül ünnepelte, találkozott a vezíreivel, rendezvényeken vett részt. Sőt, hogy tovább fárassza beteg testét rendszeresen járt lovagolni és alkoholizálni barátaihoz. Egyik ilyen alkalommal Murad elvesztette az eszméletét és testőrei vitték vissza a Topkapi Palotába. A szultán néha magához tért, úgy tűnik ekkor már tudta, hogy haldoklik. Külön kérésére vitték át a Revan Pavilonba, ahol néhány hónappal korábban öccsét végeztette ki. Talán épp emiatt akart ő is ott meghalni. Nem tudni, hogy kik voltak mellette utolsó perceiben, de valószínűleg édesanyját ha akarták volna sem tudták volna távol tartani. Egyesek szerint halálos ágyán Murad kiadta a parancsot Ibrahim kivégzésére is, ám erre nincs bizonyíték.

Murad temetésére hatalmas tömeg gyűlt össze, koporsója előtt fekete lova sétált feldíszítve, a jelenlévők közül pedig többen hangosan zokogtak. Így tehát nem igaz, hogy a nép örült volna a szultán halálának. Bár Murad nem volt tökéletes, sok kegyetlen tettet vitt véghez, mégis évtizedek után ő volt az első hódító szultán és ő volt az, aki sikerrel állította vissza a birodalom békéjét, amiért a nép szerette őt. IV. Murad volt az utolsó igazi klasszikus értelemben vett hódító szultán, hiszen többé egyik szultán sem vezetett személyesen hadjáratot. Murad inkább hasonlított az 1500-as évek elején uralkodó I. Yavuz Szelimre vagy I. Szulejmánra, mint közvetlen elődeire. Így személye erős lezárást adott a hódítások korának és az Oszmán Birodalom fénykorának. Édesapja, I. Ahmed mauzóleumában helyezték örök nyugalomra, mivel rövid élete során nem volt alkalma saját mauzóleumot építtetni és sokak szerint nem is foglalkoztatta az építészet.

Felhasznált források: C. Finkel - Osman's Dream: The Story of the Ottoman Empire; L. Peirce - The imperial harem; G. Börekçi - Factions and favourites at the courts of Sultan Ahmed I (r. 1603-17) and his immediate predecessors; S. Faroqhi - The Ottoman Empire and the World; C. Imber - The Ottoman Empire 1300-1650; F. Suraiya, K. Fleet - The Cambridge History of Turkey 1453-1603; G. Piterberg - An Ottoman Tragedy, History and Historiography at Play; F. Suraiya - The Cambridge History of Turkey, The Later Ottoman Empire, 1603–1839; Howard - A History of the Ottoman Empire; Öztuna - Devletler ve Hanedanlar; Uluçay - Padişahların Kadınları ve Kızları; : F. Davis - The Palace of Topkapi in Istanbul; Y. Öztuna - Genç Osman ve IV. Murad; G. Junne - The black eunuchs of the Ottoman Empire; R. Dankoff - An Ottoman Mentality: The World of Evliya Çelebi; R. Murphey - ‘The Functioning of the Ottoman Army under Murad IV (1623–1639/1032–1049):Key to Understanding of the Relationship Between Center and Periphery; S. Faroqhi - Another Mirror for Princes, The Public Image of the Ottoman Sultans and Its Reception

[colubrina]

would you ever post a snippet of your original writing?

Sure :) This is the first chapter of the second book I queried, called THE AZRAEL PROJECT.  Just keep in mind this book failed to find a home, and that was fair.

The line to pass the checkpoint moved slowly all morning. Kay had long finished his coffee and was wondering whether he could dart off to find a bathroom when Azzie touched his shoulder. “Almost there,” she said. “Be patient.”

Patient. Right. He was about to go into the land of the corporate and privileged, a place he’d always been told to avoid, all because his stubborn, ridiculous sister had to go and get a job there. He was a lot of things right now. Angry. Tense. Worried. Scared. 

Patient wasn’t going to make the list anytime soon.

As they took another step forward, and then another, his gut churned. A camera whirred in the corner of the room. Who knew how many more sat in the walls, watching. Counting. Recording. A thick glass window let him see into a room where a crying woman sat, slumped and hopeless, a worn stuffed rabbit clutched in her hands.  She hadn’t made it through the checkpoint.  If she was lucky, she’d get tossed back outside the wall in a bit. If she was unlucky, well, he didn’t want to think about that. People died in corporate detention more than they came back. He itched to move away, to fade into the thickening crowds, to go back where he’d come from. Going into Mount Desert Corp. was a bad idea. A dangerous idea. 

But then they were at the front of the line and Azzie had her arm out for the chip reader, and it was too late to find another way. The reader scanned the tiny chip embedded in her wrist and dinged, clearing her for entry. The gate agent waited for Kay to put his wrist under the scanner just like everyone else.

Only he wasn’t chipped. No internal ID linking him to their systems. No working guest band. Azzie had claimed it would be fine because of her clearance level. Now that they were here, that seemed insane. 

“Any day now,” the agent said, her eyes on the screen. “Don’t hold up the line.”

“He’s with me,” Azzie said. 

“Non-corporate visitors need a wristband.” She sounded bored. She probably hated her job and only cared about how many hours there were until her shift ended and she could go off, find her friends, get a drink.  When they didn’t move, the agent sighed loudly.  That sigh said it was her day for idiots who got in the wrong line. “You can get a health scan and a one-day guest band at -.”

“Check my authorization,” Azzie said before the agent could go into her spiel. Her voice stayed pleasant. It was the same tone she used when convincing little kids to swallow their immunization pills. It was reassuring and calm and trustworthy but also implacable. I can stay here until you’re ready to do this, that voice said. And I will. She’d done it, too. He’d watched her sit for hours and wait for a child to take her immu-pill.  He’d always wanted to shove it down the kid’s throat.

“He needs a band,” the agent said again. Azzie put her wrist back under the scanner. The cheerful ding authorizing her entry felt false and off and frightening. Kay knew it couldn’t be, but the sound felt louder. It felt like a siren screaming to everyone that he was an intruder. 

“My guests don’t,” Azzie said.  It was almost a challenge and petty bureaucrats didn’t like being questioned or challenged. This one was no exception. It didn’t help that Azzie wasn’t the sort of pretty woman people wanted to accommodate. Her face failed to be beautiful.  Each feature was lovely on its own but put together they argued with one another and left a woman in their wake who might have been arresting or interesting or fascinating but who wasn’t at all pretty. The wide, dark eyes had thick lashes but their softness didn’t fit with her hard jawline. Her skin was much too pale and smooth. Her cheekbones too broad.  He’d always liked the way looked out but she made most people uncomfortable and they found reasons not to look at her. She was certainly managing to make the agent uncomfortable. Uncomfortable and annoyed.  She narrowed her eyes and drummed her fingers on the counter and it all made nervous prickles dance along Kay’s arms. His whole life his mother had warned him to stay unnoticed, unscanned, and out of corporations. A smart man would turn around and walk away from here right now. Except Elizabeth was missing and he had to find her. Azzie was going to help him, and this checkpoint agent would have to deal.

“I don’t know who you think you are,” the agent said, “but guests and guest workers at Mount Desert Corporation need a corporate visa or a wristband.”

“Not always,” Azzie said. She dropped the canvas satchel she carried and smiled with the calm patience that settled around her wherever she went. “You can call your supervisor if that would make you feel better about it though.”

“Just check the girl’s record,” said the person behind them. “The rest of us want to get in before lockdown.”

The agent scowled but she seemed to recognize Azzie wasn’t going to move so she looked at her readout and clicked on the name. She made a point of clicking with enough force that they’d know she wasn’t happy with them. She clicked again, and again, and again. Every click made the scanner ding and every ding made Kay’s gut clench a little bit more. He kept expecting a guard to appear, stunner in hand, to throw him into the same pen as the woman with the stuffed animal. It will be fine he whispered to himself. He inhaled through his nose, counted to three, then exhaled. Azzie might have been the only person in the processing area who wasn’t upset. Kay could feel the sweat trickling down his arms, the agent was angry, and the people in line behind them were shuffling with growing impatience this was taking so long. 

Kay could see the moment the agent found the details of Azzie’s clearance level. She went grey and swallowed away spite turned to fear.  She looked up with a nervous, placating grin. If she’d been a dog, she would have been baring her throat.

“I’m so sorry,” she said. “It was my mistake. It’s just… I never… you don’t look… welcome back to Mount Desert, miss. Ma’am.”

Azzie bent down to pick up her bag as if nothing had been amiss.  “Thank you,” she said. “Have a nice day.” And with that Kay was following her through the gates, past the barbed wire fence, past the concrete wall, and into the residential section of Mount Desert Corporation. Stores with glass windows and no bars lined each side of the street. A park stretched out with real grass and trees offered shade from the cruelty of the sun. The road looked quaint, built out of picturesque cobblestones, but he could see modern drains built into the sides. Flooding would be whisked away here. Storms might come, but they would go too. Weather Incidents, as the news was wont to call them in a fit of understatement, weren’t bad this far north anyway, but the ones that did reach here wouldn’t turn the place into a reeking disaster. Azzie curled her hands into tight fists when they were clear of the border and the coastal town opened before them. 

“Az?” he asked. “You okay?”

She stretched her fingers out again and took a deep breath. “I don’t like coming back,” she said. “Not a lot of good memories.”

“I’m sorry,” he said awkwardly. He’d dragged her here with his problems.

“Not your fault,” she said.  “Let’s get a hotel room while we wait for Deacon. I could use a hot shower.”

She didn’t explain what had happened with the agent and, glancing at a fountain that bubbled with clean water, Kay decided not to ask. A shower sounded good. A bathroom better. 

After all, even after two years as friends he still had plenty of secrets of his own. “Lead the way,” he said.

[dearmrsawyer]

attempting a bit of looking back and looking forward!

work stuff

wow. last year. what an unanticipated RIDE? good? bad? spectrum? my supervisor spent the first half of the year alternating between working from New Zealand and taking unpaid leave, both to stay with his elderly mother, and was deliberately very hands off during that period. I’ve always worked with very little oversight, but there were regularly decisions to be made that i considered above me. i spent a lot of this time floundering, mostly because he had indicated to me that he was going to resign, but didn’t do so until three months after telling me this, so i was never sure if i should defer to him, whether he cared, whether it was worth it since he would be gone shortly after making a decision, or whether i should wait because i didn’t want to be bound to a decision that may end up hurting the work i would need to do after he was gone. 

it felt like six months of frustration and inaction on my part, and by the time he officially resigned in June i didn’t have time to deal with much of the decisions left pending through all this, because we were due to launch an online course that sucked up the second 6 months of the year lol. I knew it was coming but i had no idea of the timeline. i was brought in about 2 weeks before the course needed to go live, NOT ideal since i was the one responsible for all content on our online learning platform. which we upgraded! and so i had to relearn! and the course content was all modified from the face-to-face version i’m familiar with! All i remember from June/July is downloading all the apps i used at work onto my phone so i could keep adding things to my to-do lists from bed at 1am. i remember not sleeping much and editing online content at 9pm and having the Head of Health email me back to take the rest of the night off LOL. i am the kind who needs to finish a task in one sitting/have only minor loose ends to tie up because if i come back to it the next day i need to go over everything i did yesterday, since the act of sleep performs a full memory wipe on all my mental systems. 

anyways it calmed down after July but it still took up the bulk of my workload for the rest of the year, so the rest of my duties (i.e. everything else that happens in the library because i am the one (1) library staff member D:) were really shafted. I feel really bad about that because i know the library suffered, but i also know there’s nothing i could do about it.

however i was also promoted to my supervisor’s old position so i’m officially Head of the library now!!!! i do feel like i earned it, and to be honest it won’t really change my role at all, my opinion will probably just be asked for more often. as i said, i always had very little oversight, partially because my supervisor trusted me to work independently, and partially because he split his role as an academic, so being head of the library was only 10% of his role. so thankfully there was no learning curve involved in this new role, its just business as usual! which is great because i truly didn’t have time for a learning curve lol! i got a bit of a raise, and i’ll be more involved in decisions that impact the library. i anticipate i will still be left out of the loop at times, purely because myself and the library live on the ground floor, and everyone else works on level 2. so the library falls into the trap of out of sight, out of mind very often, not through any malice, but because its just forgotten. in the last year though, maybe as a result of my supervisor leaving, i feel like the colleagues i’m closer to have put great effort into reaching out to me anytime they know a conversation that will affect the library is being had. this has really made me feel like i’ve got people looking out, so i still expect the library will be forgotten semi-regularly but that’s out of my control, and i will just do what i can with the help of friends!

so, goals: try to give all areas of the library equal attention, um perhaps convince someone to let me hire a second staff member lol??, maybe get a standing invite to one of the committees with executive staff so i can be in the loop on what’s like... happening generally, oh god sort out the ebook situation (currently: non existent and confusing to consider)

me stuff

due to a combination of factors (a few months of nausea, unbearable outdoor conditions, laziness) i didn’t start my usual six months of exercising before i once again switch off all movement for the winter months lol. since no longer having a dog, going on walks/jogs became really un-fun, but in the last few years i’ve found a new routine. i didn’t get back into this routine when i normally would, and my holiday ends this week, but i’m thinking i might loosen my plan this year. i’ve been good at eliminating any sense of guilt attached to ‘fitness’ the last few years, and replacing it with a satisfaction in feeling the capability of my own body. so my plan is, use the structure of a work week to build up my exercise routine, use more work mornings to try and fit in some exercise, go into work a little later when i want to because there are no repercussions on me or the library, and once winter hits try to go back to morning walks/jogs because they’re more bearable at that time of year. just to keep up some kind of activity year-long instead of stopping altogether. 

my success in finishing killjoys last year taught me i should really trust in myself to write something i don’t think i’ll be able to write. i’ve got another idea (less ambitious) that i feel would be best written by someone else, but i’m eager to write it anyway! courageous writing! i was also successful at writing more casually with all the tiny pokemon pieces, and hope to continue writing casually. yesterday i listened to a BBC reading of Neil Gaiman’s short story Chivalry, and it reminded me why i love Gaiman’s short stories so much. i’ve always found short stories fairly unpalatable for my own tastes, because of the dissection involved, the hidden messages that take me back to critical reading in university. and critical reading is a GREAT thing, but when i just want a story? i’ve always found short stories impenetrable. But Gaiman’s short stories are so ‘i had a neat idea, here’s 1500 words, thanks for your time’. LOL like they don’t GO anywhere? there are still often layers that critical reading will pull out but sometimes its just like ‘here’s a concept, enjoy’. and i love that idea of no pressure writing! just here’s an idea! i got nothing else, i just like the idea! so here’s to more of that!

also i remember at the start of the year i said i wanted to be more engaged in the community i have on here, and for the first few months of the year really felt like i was failing. a lot of it was a side effect of all the uncertainty at work bleeding into my general state of being, my own emotional state in other areas, working through being a living person etc lol, but as the year wore on i really felt like i did do that! i’ve met more of you on here, interacted either a) more widely, or b) more deeply with some of you, and i feel like i’ve ‘played’ more, and i’ve loved it. 

oh also my 2019 reading mission was to pull out any books i’d owned for 5-10 years, bought at another point in my life journey, and try as many as i could with the goal to get rid of any that no longer appealed to me. and i culled a healthy number of books! so this year is going to be about reading books i’m most excited to read. we’re following passion this year!

[discjockeyetc]

How I Got Here: One Year (and 85 pounds) Later

On October 14th, 2019, I began a journey that would change my life (and my health) for the better. I’ve told the whole story to a few people here and there, but never really put the whole thing down in to words. I figured the one year anniversary would be a good time to do that.

On October 14th, 2019, I weighed 250 pounds. As I’m writing this today, on October 14th, 2020, I weigh right at 165 pounds.

With that, here’s what happened, and how I got here... one year (and 85lbs) later.

It all began on Friday, October 11th at about 12:00pm. I was working from home, Jill was at work, and Turner was at school. Sydney had been dealing with a nasty body rash, so we had kept her home from school. We were dog sitting Jill’s parents’ dog Goldie, so Sydney and I were standing on the patio watching Goldie and Freddie play in the backyard. As we were standing there, I suddenly felt this rush of numbness take over the entire left side of my body. From the top of my head to my toes. Total numbness. My left hand felt like I had been sitting on it for a half hour. My mouth had that sensation (or lack of sensation, as it were) of just receiving a shot of novocaine from the dentist. 

This was, as you can imagine, pretty strange, so I quickly gathered the dogs and Sydney and went back inside. I sat back down at my desk while the episode was happening. After about 60 seconds, it stopped. Just went away. I didn’t pass out or get dizzy or anything. I didn’t get droopy-faced or drop anything I was holding. Just numbness (with a little tingling). 

It would happen a couple more times that afternoon and each time would last about the same amount of time; about 60 to 90 seconds or so. I had a wedding to do that Saturday (which I was NOT going to miss) and had multiple episodes of this random numbness throughout that day and night. 

That Sunday, we made our annual pilgrimage to Burt’s Pumpkin Farm and Hillcrest Orchards, and it would pop up a couple times that day. All in all, from Friday around lunch time to Sunday night, I had probably 20 of these little episodes. 

[Quick important side story: I made two BIG mistakes here, and I’m not afraid to admit them. Mistake number one: I didn’t want to make a big deal out of this, so I did the stereotypical “male” thing and swept it under the rug. I had a wedding to do, and we had our pumpkins and apples trip... and I didn’t want to miss ANY of that... and I absolutely would have. Mistake number two: I didn’t really tell Jill what was going on, and that’s one of my biggest regrets in ALL of this. I needed to tell her, but I didn’t really mention it until Sunday night. This is a mistake I will NEVER make again... and I only share this as a testimony for all married couples on what NOT to do in serious situations like this. We had just celebrated our 17th wedding anniversary... and even though we’ve been married a good long time, I still got this wrong... but never again. Okay... back to the main story]

I didn’t have a primary care doctor at the time, so I figured I’d go to the urgent care near my house first thing Monday morning. Now, I realized that an urgent care can’t “fix” this, but I had to start somewhere, right? After I described what I experiencing, the PA did all of normal cognitive tests (”squeeze my fingers”, “What year is it?”, “push against my arms”, and so on). The PA went to talk to the main doctor at the primary care, and while she was gone, I had another episode. I popped my head out of the exam room to let them know. No sooner than I did that, the PA was returning from her conversation with the doctor... and they were ready to point me in the direction I was seeking. That direction was the emergency room.

Jill and I were both working from home that day, so I reached out to her and let her know that I needed to go to the ER. The urgent care wouldn’t let me leave on my own, so I either had to take an ambulance, or have someone come pick me up. Jill ran right up to the urgent care, and off we went to the hospital. 

I showed up at the emergency room VERY nervous and unsure about what would happen, but I explained what was going on, and they checked me in. Remember, this was pre-Covid, so I was able to get in with no issue and very little delay. I reached out to my work supervisor to let him know what was going on and that I’d be away from my desk for a while. All good there. I was taken back to the ER area and got the ball rolling. 

After my vitals were taken, tests were immediately ordered. Luckily, the BIG tests (MRI, CT scan, heart ultrasound) appeared to be normal. *whew* Good news there. I also did the whole gauntlet of blood and urine tests. Now, I always knew that I was pretty overweight and that my eating habits were NOT good. I was also expecting my blood pressure to be less than spectacular (whih it was, of course). I hadn’t taken any medications for cholesterol or BP. This was mainly due to a condition that Jill and the ER nurses referred to as “manitis” (aka male stubbornness). %100 guilty of that FOR SURE. 

While all this is going on, I would have a couple more episodes of that same numbness while sitting in an ER bed. 

I wouldn’t end up talking to him until later in the day, but the Neurologist who ordered and reviewed my tests instructed the staff to inform me that I would be admitted to the hospital right away. That’s when the fear REALLY sunk in.

I was taken to a room on the fifth floor and got settled in. The IV was installed, and I got “dressed” in my gown. Private room, too. Not bad. They continued to monitor my vitals... especially my blood pressure which was still far too high. I was started on a drip and began taking medicine to help my BP. 

The Neurologist came by to tell me what he believed was going on. In his estimation, the numbness was probably caused by blockages in microscopic veins/arteries (NOT a stroke or a series of mini-strokes), so, this was welcomed news. Blockages are treated with cholesterol medication (something I figured was coming at some point). 

It was around this time that another person (a nurse, I believe) came in and said something to the effect of “Oh, and by the way... you have type 2 diabetes.”. Wait, what??

The results of the blood work I had done earlier showed my A1C level was WAY WAY WAY too high. If you’re not familiar with A1C, it’s a three month average of your blood sugar. A normal, healthy person’s A1C is probably 4.5 or so. Mine was 11.1. As my work supervisor said, I should have been in a diabetic coma! That’s an incredibly high and dangerous number. So, not only did I begin treatment for high cholesterol to help ease these numbness episodes, I immediately began treatment for type 2 diabetes. This included regular insulin injections throughout the day... in addition to the medication I had begun taking for the blockages. 

The meds I was taking for the numbness seemed to have worked. I had one last episode around 5:00pm the day I checked in to the hospital. And now, exactly a year later, I haven’t had another one since then. I was told that I would stay the night in the hospital for further observation. If my BP could get under control, I would be able to go home... tomorrow. I was spending the night in the hospital. 

I’m not going to lie. I was incredibly scared at this point. How would I explain to Turner and Sydney what was going on? How long would I have to stay here? Am I going to be okay? What’s actually going on? The questions were swirling. Jill brought the girls up to the hospital that evening and I explained to them, in plain english, exactly what was going on. They understood, which is good... because I didn’t want to hide anything from them (or Jill) anymore. 

A new journey was already underway.

After Jill and the girls left for the night, I had a little bit of a meltdown. Okay, maybe two... but they were interrupted by the constant flow of nurses coming to poke me with needles. I’m a good patient, though, and complied with all of the instructions I was given. The way I figured, if I followed instructions and did what I was told, I would get to go home sooner. 

It worked. I was ultimately discharged at about 5:30 on Tuesday... about 36 hours after arriving.

I met with a diabetic counselor to start the learning process (which is ongoing until this very day). I started on insulin while I was in the hospital and began checking my sugar (finger pricks) 4 times a day. I also made an appointment with a new primary care doctor for later that week. I was on my way!

After meeting with my doctor (which I’ve done regularly for the past year), I was able to get on a path to wellness. I used to eat absolute garbage... and HUGE portions of it, too. I also dropped the diet coke right away. To this day, I still don’t take in ANY caffeine. I immediately went low/no carb, low/no sugar, HIGH protein. I did have to drop beer, which is sad. I really enjoyed my nice, locally crafted IPA’s, but they have WAY too many carbs. I switched to bourbon, though. A suitable replacement, if you ask me. Ha ha! All throughout this process, I found that I have far more self control and will power than I ever imagined. At the risk of sounding cliche’, if *I* can make these changes, literally anyone can. 

In more recent days, I’ve found that I can take in a bit more carbs (and even some sweets) and still keep my sugar under control. I still can only eat smaller portioned meals and get full much quicker than I used to. I’m good for usually one big meal a day (usually dinner). I still keep the carbs way down, though. I’ve been able to learn how my body reacts to certain kinds of carbs and adjust my meals based on that. For instance, pizza doesn’t really affect me too terribly bad. French fries, however, aren’t as good. It’s stuff like that I’ve had to train on. It’s been a lot of trial and error, but in the long run, it’s worth it.

It hasn’t always been easy. There were plenty of times where a delicious piece of cake was waved under my nose... or a big pile of french fries were put in front of me. It was that fear of poor health that kept me away from those things, though. It was the motivation of wanting to walk my daughters up the aisle at both of their weddings. It was the notion of growing old with Jill, holding our grandchildren, and living a FULL. Once I found that motivation, it got easier. 

Early on in the journey, I would do things that weren’t so smart... like purposely withhold meals. I would say I wasn’t hungry, when in truth, I was afraid of food. I’m not proud of this and it’s definitely NOT the way to go. But you have to understand... I was making a complete 180 degree change in my lifestyle, and I didn’t really know what I was doing. There was also a medication had the main purpose of controlling my blood sugar levels. One of its side effects was that it would completely zap my appetite. That also caused me to skip a lot of meals. These days, my appetite is much better and healthier, and I rarely ever skip a meal. If I do, it’s because the previous meal was on the bigger side.

In the months that followed, I would make regular visits to my new doctor (which I still do to this day... about every three months). I have also been able to adjust my medication to almost nothing. Eventually, I was able to drop the insulin (and later, the metformin which is a popular drug for diabetics). I still take one pill to control my sugar as well as medication for cholesterol and blood pressure. 

The main thing that’s helped me was diet... because I HAAAATE exercise. Definitely not a fan. I admit that I probably would have gotten much further much quicker had I done literally ANY kind of exercise, but it is what it is. These days, I could probably stand to do some kind of exercise just to tone up what I have... and what I have is still kind of a “dad bod”... it’s just 85 pounds lighter than it used to be. ha ha!

I’ve had to get a completely new wardrobe, too! I went from a 40 inch waist to a loose 34 (33 would be perfect). I was squeezing into XL sized shirts (2X in some cases)... now, I’m mostly wearing size MEDIUM. Depending on the brand, LG shirts are sometimes a bit too loose. I tell ya what... the clothing part ALONE absolutely blows my mind! I had taken MANY BIG BAGS of clothes to a local thrift store. Also, we took Turner and Sydney to Old Navy a couple weeks ago to get new pants for the fall. While we were there, I decided to try on a couple shirts. You see, Old Navy doesn’t make clothes for people like me (or like how I used to be). The occasional XL sized t-shirt, maybe. But generally speaking, Old Navy wasn’t my store. Well, not only was I able to fit into a shirt, it was MEDIUM sized... not even large! Not gonna lie...I teared up a bit. That was a moment for sure. I brought home about 6 or 7 new shirts for the fall that day. I mean, wow.

I’ve been writing this blog in my heads for several months, and I feel like I’ve gotten everything written out, so I’ll wrap this up. I never knew how miserable I was before until I actually got healthy. I feel better now than I ever remember feeling. I’m sleeping better (and not snoring anymore, according to Jill), I have SO much more energy, and life, in general, is just.... better. 

As of today, I’m 85 pounds down, my blood pressure and cholesterol are at normal, healthy levels, and most importantly, my A1C is 5.0... well below the diabetic range. Even though my numbers are good, I’ll *always* be a diabetic, so I’ll always have to be careful about what I eat. 

Thank you to everyone who has expressed their congratulations. It means a lot... and hearing “Wow, you look great!” never (NEVER) gets old.

[karofsky]

Urgent Life Update: We Need Help.

I feel like I’ve done nothing but serve bad news for months now, but it’s something I’ve unfortunately just come to terms with being the normal.

Amidst my recent and ongoing health issues, our personal traumas and losses, and our already poor financial situation due to many collective issues, my girlfriend was just laid off from her job that would have made us okay. We are now both unemployed for factors outside of our control.

We are now facing eviction, our amenities being cut off, fear being sent to collections, and a cut to our renters credit and personal credit scores. RE: Help-- My parents are in the middle of a messy and expensive divorce, and her family cannot provide any financial help or space for us. Our complex is the cheapest in the area, but we can’t afford a down payment to move regardless. None of our friends can house us, either because of a space issue or our pets.

We plan to be okay next month. We have to be, and our working our asses off to get there. We just have so much to pay this month that shouldn’t have been a problem and now is, and frankly, we are drowning.

To ease any worry, we are okay on food. Neither of us are starving, though we admit to being more cautious with how much we eat. We have two very good friends that have been providing for us over the last few months, and are very fortunate because of it. 

I feel the need to be open about what any financial help will be spent on, so-- our rent, our phone bill, our internet bill, our utilities, our small credit debts from past bill payments, my medicine and hospital bills, and my work portfolio (which is my only source of income atm). Basically, bills. But I wanted to be clear, and honest: we are just two people in an unfortunate situation.

So, whether it be a reblog, a shoutout, or a financial contribution, we really appreciate it. Honestly. Neither of us are okay, and we already feel so indebted to everyone that has helped us in the last few months. But it’s appreciated.

PAYPAL: 

paypal.me/MadelineBrooks

paypal.me/KaitLikesCereal

VENMO:

starkurt

kaitlikescereal

Commissions have been my only source of income these last few months, and are always open --

http://starkurt.com/art

http://starkurt.com/commissions

My girlfriend makes lovely props and costumes, and does take commissions for them as well --

https://www.instagram.com/kaitlikescereal/

(She made a really cool shield recently; you should ask her about it)

Thank you all again, for so much.

Breakdown of the last ~4 months under a cut, just as some more background (or if you need proof, or a sob story, or whatever. I’ve never done this before.)

I left my then fairly longterm job because I received an offer for a fulltime position at another company. I liked my job, but the company was a mess, and my hours were being cut alongside the thousands of other employees. (Worked for the Mouse, if you were curious)

The second day I was at my new place work, I got permission to leave on my lunch because I was very ill and had a fever. I went to urgent care, and ended up having a sweltering 104 degree fever. I let my boss know I would be out the rest of the day and the next, and he approved. The next day, I received a text from my boss that the head boss “didn’t think my attendance was what they were looking for” (remember, it was my second day, and I had a dangerous fever, which both she and my supervisor were made aware of), and was promptly fired.

Spending 10 days bedridden with a fever that would only break for a few hours a day, I soon found out the company had never submitted any of my legal information, which means I was never officially employed despite working, and because of that I couldn’t submit for unemployment.

Shortly after, my girlfriend, who had been on a state mandated, legally approved disability for her physical and mental health, was illegally fired by her employer for “self termination”. We did seek legal action, but could not pursue it immediately due to our new financial stress.

After recovering for a month (as I could not physically leave the bed/couch), I began applying for jobs again, and had a few interviews. Most were promising but fell flat. I’ve been applying to jobs every day since, and have only seen any improvement once I changed my name (

My girlfriend started a new job which promised her a raise within a few weeks, which turned into a few months. Her wage was not as promised and we were broke for 3 months as I continued to struggle.

I ended up in the ER twice-- once in June, then once in July. The first was an entirely traumatic experience that forced me to undergo about 15 tests and biopsies, and I was left confusing every doctor as to what had caused it. I was fine following it, though was mentally put off because of the later developing fear of something more. My second trip was brought on by what I had thought was a heart attack from my stress, then once the panic settled, believed it was horrible food poisoning. I went in, was on IV and got more scans and tests, and with no results, was discharged with food poisoning. The next day I burst into a 102 degree fever and continued to be violently sick the week following, which only put me out of jobhunting again. It passed, but it left me with a gastro issue that I am continuing to deal with.

During this, my girlfriend had started her training for her promotion, all while being promised a raise and reimbursement for our phone and internet bills, since she was working from home 90% of the time. Once it came time for her to finish her training, take her certification test, and get promoted, her employers ghosted her for about a week, and then eventually let her know she was being let go due to budget cuts, and that they did not have the money to pay her. They still have not paid either our internet or our phone bills despite their constant promises, and both bills have now racked up multiple months of late fees because they were never taken care of.

So yet again, we are both unemployed and broke, but now have nearly $2000 of bills to pay, which doesn’t include my hospital bills which have only just started coming in.

Truly, if you can help in any way, it’s appreciated. We have been each other’s support systems these last two and half years, and losing our home and potentially all of our credit we’ve built up right before trying to move and get married will destroy us. We have both had so much loss and negativity, not even just these last few months, and we are just trying our best to continue seeing the good in life.

[oldmogg]

Let’s have a glance at the Chevening Leadership and Influence Question. Leadership & Influence Question Chevening is looking for individuals that will be future leaders or influencers in their home countries. Explain how you meet this requirement, using clear examples of your own leadership and influencing skills to support your answer. (Minimum word count: 100 words, maximum word count: 500 words) The first sentence states what kind of people Chevening is looking to sponsor, namely; Future Leaders/Influencers in their home countries. The second part asks the applicant to demonstrate that he (clearly) meets this requirement. Having selected your examples, kindly choose a maximum of 3 but 1 or 2 are just fine as long as you clearly bring out your vast array of leadership qualities, skills, and attributes. We will now look at answering the above question using the STAR approach. For purposes of the Chevening essay, I enjoin you to add L (Lessons Learnt) as well. Thus, for all your Leadership and Networking essays, we shall use the STARL approach. It saves time, words and helps you answer the question satisfactorily. A final reminder here that Chevening is looking for future potential leaders/influencer and this has nothing to do with your previous position. S- Situation. This is straightforward. The situation is an event, project, or challenged encountered. Use the who, what, where, when and how. Example: In 2015, I joined X Company as a Team Lead, Marketing. Although the company was making profits, these were marginal and there was a high staff attrition rate because the company could not remunerate its employees according to prevailing market rates. T-Task: Here, briefly highlight your responsibilities and assignments for the situation above. In other words, what did you do or what did you need/want to do to change the results for better? Be specific and concise. This is a good opportunity for you to highlight the challenges faced as well. Overcoming challenges is one of the greatest hallmarks of a leader. It is an area where you can ace your essay. Example:After a brief sales check, I quickly realised profits could be doubled. After sharing this information with the manager, I was assigned to draft a new marketing strategy to boost the company’s sales. However, some old staff were not welcoming of the idea and refused to cooperate in the drafting of the new roadmap. A-Action: These are steps or procedures that you undertook to remedy the problem or situation. Here, clearly describe what you did. How did you go about the task that needed to be accomplished? The focus is on what you did as an individual, not as a team or group. Highlight leadership qualities or traits that Chevening is looking for (initiative, teamwork, organisational skills, leadership, temerity etc). Describe how you overcame any challenges faced in your quest to win achieve your task. Example:To win them over,I organised small group meetings where I allowed everyone to express their fears or reservations about the intended changes. I then sold my vision to them, sharing my successful stints at my previous job. I also encouraged them to assign specific duties to each and every member and recognised the contribution of each one of them. They felt valued and before long, everyone embraced my idea. I then set about finding the prevailing consumer needs, aspirations and perceptions. I designed customer exit interviews and organised focused group discussions to determine their views about the products we were selling them. After compiling a list of customer needs, I persuaded the manager to let me conduct a promotion drive to boost our sales, which he willingly obliged. R-Result: Tell them the outcome of the situation and your specific contribution to the said outcome. What did you accomplish? Let your results be realistic, achievable, and believable. Let the reader not question your achievements. Example: Within 6 months, the company’s sales had more than tripled, way above our expectations. The profits improved by 300% in just over a year and this resulted in the company raising the salary of all employees by 15%. I won the “Employee of the Year” award in only my first year at the organisation. A few years later, I was promoted to the Regional Supervisor, overseeing over 100 employees. L-Lessons Learnt: This is an addendum to the Result part above. What did you glean from the above scenario? Can you use similar approaches in comparable future situations/problems/challenges/contexts?Example:This experience showed me that understanding the organisation’s internal and external customer needs can boost the sales of a company. In summary, one of your leadership essays could look like the one below. Disclaimer: This is just an example for learning purposes. It is my own imagination and I am not a sales person. In 2015, I joined X Company as a Team Lead, Marketing. Although the company was making profits, these were marginal and there was a high staff attrition rate because the company could not remunerate its employees according to prevailing market rates. After a brief sales check, I quickly realised profits could be doubled. After sharing this information with the manager, I was assigned to draft a new marketing strategy to boost the company’s sales. However, some old staff were not welcoming of the idea and refused to cooperate in the drafting of the new roadmap.To win them over, I organised small group meetings where I allowed everyone to express their fears or reservations about the intended changes. I then sold my vision to them, sharing my successful stints at my previous job. I also encouraged them to assign specific duties to each and every member and recognised the contribution of each one of them. They felt valued and before long, everyone embraced my idea. I then set about finding the prevailing consumer needs, aspirations and perceptions. I designed customer exit interviews and organised focused group discussions to determine their views about the products we were selling them. After compiling a list of customer needs, I persuaded the manager to let me conduct a promotion drive to boost our sales, which he willingly obliged. Within 6 months, the company’s sales had more than tripled, way above our expectations. The profits improved by 300% in just over a year and this resulted in the company raising the salary of all employees by 15%. I won the “Employee of the Year” award in only my first year at the organisation. A few years later, I was promoted to the Regional Supervisor, overseeing over 100 employees. This experience showed me that understanding the organisation’s internal and external customer needs can boost the sales of a company. In my opinion, using the SAR/CAR/PAR approach seems easier as the task is often embedded in the situation part of the technique and unless you are familiar with this technique, you can skip T. Also, this is not cast in stone that you have to follow the above format to the dot. For example, you can do away with large sections of the above imaginary example to beat the word count. They understand you can not write everything in just 500 words but there is the bare minimum they still expect of you. Tailor your essays to your needs. Try as much as possible to use statistics as well as leadership traits. A brief Introduction: We advise you to always start with an introduction to your leadership essay. You can use the following tips: Give an overview of what leadership means to you and provide a generic encounter or experience before going on to provide focused examples. E.g. I was born and raised in a typical rural African village. At age 6, I was crafted into tending to and fending for our animals. Therefore, I developed organisational, resilience and other leadership skills which have been honed over the years. Start with a personal definition (personalised definition of what leadership is) e.g. For me, leadership is about service – being able to, in one’s own small way, restore a smile where one is lost. All my life, I have lived by this intrinsic standard. I started volunteering while in secondary school, campaigning against teen pregnancies, child marriage, gender inequality and HIV/AIDS. An introduction that mirrors the question E.g. “I have been influential in my community and my leadership skills are evident in the following examples. Having worked as a….” Introducing yourself and roles g.”I am a Doctor of Medicine, with 5 years’ experience and one of the youngest leaders at district healthcare level in my country as District Medical Officer and Chair of the District Health Management Team. I supervise over 200 staff as well as one hospital and seventeen health centres covering a population of seventy-five thousand, in primary healthcare provision, promoting healthy rural households. Note that this is not an introduction per se and the writer can ably build on this role using the STAR/TRUE approach to write a compelling leadership example. In other words, intros aren’t a must, they are dispensable. They’re therefore at the discretion of the writer. A Concise Conclusion to your Essay: After you have written your essays, it is only fitting and proper that you conclude. Briefly show cause why you want to be a Chevening Scholar, highlight how the scholarship will help you realise your and the Scholarship’s vision of being a leader/influencer in your home country. Chevening has some leadership conferences and seminars that can fast track your goals of being a global leader. Mention these if you have space. E.g. The Chevening Scholarship will further enhance my leadership skills and prepare me for senior managerial positions upon returning home – fighting for quality sexual and reproductive services for women as I look forward to transitioning into a global leader. Reducing your Word Count As you should have noticed from the imaginary example above, I wrote just over 300 words. If you wrote that example as it is, you would probably use only one example in your essay. Writing one example is not a problem in itself if you can bring out your plethora of qualities clearly and leave no stone unturned. During interviews, I was asked only one example for each of the leadership and networking essays. Chevening is about quality not quantity. However, quality without significant quantity is no quality. Just imagine someone gives you yummy morsel of bread to stimulate your taste buds and says that is all. It is why I encourage you to best use 2-3 examples. This shows the scholarship team that you are all-round person by diversifying your leadership examples. It is not always a must. After all, the instructions instruct you to use your own examples to convince them that you have leadership potential in you.Thus, the above example can be abridged by eliminating lots of unnecessary words and/or using synonyms.In fact, I would eliminate most words in that example till the word count is around or less than 200. This requires a special skill which you gain by repeated practice. I have put forth a few tips to help you scale down your words; Use active verbs. These save you words and at the same time convey the message distinctly. Avoid adverbs: these are generally unnecessary and take up a lot of your word count yet serve no purposes. In your scholarship essays, every word counts. They are not looking at your prolific writing skills. Have you answered the questions correctly? Words such as actually, really, basically etc at times dilute your essays. So instead of saying “I am actually very late”, use “I am late”. You don’t need to quantify how late you are. Also use superlatives in place of “very” in need be e.g. instead of “very good”, say :excellent” Use synonyms. This helps to avoid the monotonous and often boring use of the same word throughout the essay. Also, replace phrases with single words e.g. “At the same time” can be written as “Simultaneously”. Minimise use of articles (“a”, “the” and “an”): Where possible do way with these. Use grammatically correct compound words: These words may have a hyphen, often combining two nouns e.g.time-consuming is one word while consuming time is two words. However, avoid the trap of forcing nonexistent (instead of: it is not existent) words. They will unpack all your essays according to Standard English grammar and if you are above the set limit, your essays won’t be read and you will have no one to blame. Avoid redundancies/pleonasms: These are words that can be done away with e.g. “the added” advantage yet advantage would stand on its own. Other examples include end result, joined together. Proofread and proofread your essays: You will be surprised to see that many words are unnecessary. After the first draft, take a few days off to engage yourself in totally unrelated activities. Come back to the essay refreshed. Strike off all that is nonessential. Whilst you are grappling with reducing word count, please be advised to use formal English. Avoid contractions to beat the word count e.g. “I’m, I’d” etc. These will be unpacked to “I am I would /I had” etc and you will exceed the word count. In subsequent articles, more tips on minimising word count and the dos and don’ts of scholarship essays will be shared. *Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the authors and do not reflect those of the Foreign and Commonwealth Office (FCO), its partner organisations or any scholarship awarding body. Whereas the authors have taken every effort to provide accurate information, they are not liable for any factual errors that may be contained in this article.

[requiemofamemory]

The Intruder - Part 1

It's been 20 minutes since Anaïs posted what she hoped was her last entry on the Vertigo blog. After months, nearly a year of research on this subject the media finally took notice of her work, they used theories and photographies on the local news! Unfortunately, due to the secretive nature of her methods, I would be almost impossible to take credit for those, no one knew who was the writer behind the vertigo blog and she'd rather keep it that way. .or worse.

The BPRD theory was one of the most scandalous subjects in NY, it was thanks to Anaïs effort today we have nearly "decent" pictures of the notorious "hellboy", being of legend, who was clearly linked to very odd events and apparitions of the supernatural in some neighborhoods. Even some files from the PD confirmed it's existence, they could not be used as proper proof due to the well, illegal ways of what she used to get them.

It was 11:12 AM in NY, Chelsea, and Anaïs was rechecking her bag, making sure everything she needed was in there. The preparation for this operation was meticulously planned, alongside her partner in crime and best friend, Bud, all the arrangements were made, the calculation of success and the blueprints of the area which our redhead as about to infiltrate.

"Do you know that we are about to commit a very serious crime punishable by either death or exile to a country so far away does not know it exists in the first place, right?" Bud replied to Anaïs left earpiece as she adjusted her clothing. "I'm about to get in, Bud. You'll be my guide and guardian angel as I get in there and honestly, at this point, you should know that I do not care for those specific consequences." She chuckled, there was a bubbly feeling inside of the girl's stomach, excitement and a bit of anxiousness on a Friday afternoon simply made her day.

"I am your accomplice in this! Whatever happens to you might happen to me as well!"

The redhead adjusted her hair by the bathroom mirror, her bag was crossed around her torso and "geek university girl" disguise was almost ready. "You hack people for a living, what the hell are you talking about? And I'm the criminal one?"

"A white shirt, brown sweater, purple skirt and old shoes will not make you magically invisible to them." "This is different.

"Do not forget the glasses. And it's not purple, it's wine. Also, wigs make my head itch." Her lips curled into a smirk as she gives her looks to swirl. "I look like a nerdy activist student who lives with her grandma on a purely white and old neighborhood.

Rebecca Kelley was her name today, at least it was her fake ID. A junior supervisor of the EPA, she is also the secretary of the ministry of the environment. They will get tired of the bureaucracy of the process eventually and let her pass.

She shut all the windows, pulled the curtains, and let it all nice and tidy before leaving. "So, we ready."

Bud let out a sight "Let's get over with this. Quick, precise and no casualties."

"You're the boss." 

--------------------------------

It's 12:02 PM now, Anaïs stands in front of the Clean Waste Management Plant building back, the entry for the big truck and eventually the underground garage. Stopped by four guards, Anaïs was cordially asked to present her business.

"Sorry miss, only authorized personnel. Civilians on the other -..."

With her sweetest smile and shy girl attitude, Anaïs cut the man's words short. "Oh, right. My aunt asked me to head to the back ..." With that being said the girl reached for her leather bag and taking out her ID, along a letter from the secretary Mary Kelley, one of Bud's finest tricks The man rose to brow and took the documents in hands, his green eyes scanned the girl's features from top to bottom, taking notice of her EPA button on her sweater.

"Supervisor Kelley? We did not know we'd get any visits today. Is that just you?"

Anaïs nodded her head, "I was assigned yesterday, I'm afraid. My aunt and I are very close, I just got out of college and I'm begged for a job, you see? She did mention the environment was ... how did she say? "Uncommon", but I should have no problem with it. We got some complaints about the health of your crew, very much related to the excess of carbon monoxide emission." Her hands were tangled together in a feminine manner, polite and naive. "I could get her on the phone if you want." She continued with her pink phone in hands.

"No need. Follow me." The man was clearly bored in mid-conversation with her. It might seem a bit too much but every aspect of this situation was put into consideration, Anaïs chose to perform her first attempt at lunchtime, security guards are mostly bored due to the monotonous nature of his job, stand there all day doing nothing, he's eager to swift shifts to finally escape his post and fill his belly. Bingo.

As they passed Anaïs insisted on the previous subject, expanding her "made up character" to the guard, make him believe her intentions. "So, did you notice a persistent couch. If not on you perhaps on your colleagues?” The man looked at her with a perplex expression, clearly pondering upon her words. “Now that you mentioned I did saw Billy cough the other day. Even Charles...”

The passing from autumn to winter always caught people with allergies, it that time of the year when people catch the “cold” due to the transaction period between seasons. Another point. “Well...that’s how it starts. Carbon monoxide can be a tricky thing, it kills people from the inside out. Slowly, but incredibly deadly and once it’s cronic...there’s no coming back.”

The guard’s eye widens, averting his as he rubbed his throat.

The entered what appeared to be an industrial shed, with some pieces of equipment, some SUVs and trash trucks. The girl's eyes scanned the details of her surroundings, the floor had a discreet crack, it was clear there was an underground passage for more vehicles beneath, an elevator on the other side of the shed and four more people inside who didn’t take notice of her. It smelled of concrete, a bit of gasoline and a bit colder than expected.The guard stopped next to a black SUV. “So?”

“Oh, right...let me grab my-...” Her small hands reached for a pen and a clipboard which she grabbed in such a sloppy manner she let it fall to the floor, two feet away from them. “Oh damn, I’m sorry.” “No, it’s fine.” The guard replied, reaching down to get the clipboard for her. The perfect opportunity for her to grab the access card from his waist and unhook it from its chain. The process was quick, thankfully everyone was doing something else. That move was a piece of pure luck.

“Thank you.” Anaïs said. “Would you mind turning on this one?” She replied, pointing at the SVU. “I need to check the motor real quick.”

“Sure.”The man nodded, picking the SVU keys by a near table and opening the car. Now a few eyes were directed to them, which made fake Rebecca slightly nervous. Her hands sweating as she positioned herself to the front of the car and opened the hood of the car. Whence the guard turned it on she pretended to analyze its engines, taking the liberty to “touch a few things”. “Alright!” She shouted to the guard. “Test the power please.”

The man did, and all of a sudden a gush of black goo splashed her skirt and part of her sweater. The redhead took a step back with a wimp, the guard automatically turned off the car and rushed to help her.

“Damn! You’re okay?” He looked down at her, clearly worried. “Oh,yeah...I’m fine.” Anaïs pretended to be very upset, even a bit disgusted. “Can I...uhm, get to a bathroom?”

The guard nodded, directing her to the bathroom a bit further inside the facility. Once alone Anaïs smiled to herself in the mirror. “I’m in.” 

------------------------

[PART 2]

[dianaagron]

untitled unfinished doctors au

fandom: digimon pairing: mimi/taichi word count: 5k of glorious basically unrevised drafts summary: digimonless au where everyone is a doctor and they’re in their 30s cause that’s fun warnings: it has sex in it because apparently other than finishing stuff i’m also unable to not write mature bits in them additional: but it’s been sitting in my computer for years and it’s so long so i might as well share what i have cause at least this way i won’t feel like i completely wasted 5k of writing you know 

hello friends i’m alive and sad so i thought why not make everyone else sad as well with this piece i started writing like three summers ago and never finished because i’m unable to write a chaptered story and my mind has an attention span of 12 days after which my creativity just goes blank. happy new year tho! 

Looking out of the only window in the small room she shares with one other fellow neurosurgeon of the National Center for Global Health and Medicine Hospital, Tachikawa Mimi sees a clear blue sky painted with just enough fluffy clouds to make her feel lighter after pulling her third all nighter of the week.

The desk calendar is still telling her that it’s July, and if it wasn’t for her mobile phone lighting up on its own and showing her the date, she would’ve still believed that sunny, summer day belonged to the previous month. As it turns out, it wasn’t just her phone coming to life on its own, but as distracted as she was (between the lack of sleep and the clouds) she hadn’t noticed someone was calling her.

“Is there an emergency?” She asks, a little worried, phone propped between her ear and her left shoulder to be able to get the white coat she’d left resting on the small couch on the opposite side of the room.

“No, I was just checking if you were still here.” The deep voice coming from her phone explains. She grabs the coat, and fiddles with it until she finds the badge (she almost curses when she spots it in between the two cushions of the couch).

“Yeah, I’m in the office.” She replies, with her half-whiny tone she’s sure he’s grown accustomed to by now.

“I can see that.”

Mimi’s hand flies to her chest, the sudden noise of his voice behind her startling her and making her drop her phone to the floor. This time she curses out loud, not bothering to turn to him until she checks that the phone is still intact (thank god her mother sent her that pink rubber case last month); when she does, he’s scratching the back of his head, waiting for her acknowledgement.

“Sorry.” He tries, an apologetic smile masking what she knows is complete, utter fear of an outburst. It’s funny, because she is the fellow, and not him. She thinks she might as well just spare him for today, so she turns around, making her long hair flow in the air and meeting his eyes with a bright smile, surprising him.

“Did you know it’s August?” She absentmindedly asks him while wearing the white coat at last.

“How long has it been since you last slept in your bed?” His tone is worried, but she’s already walked past him and out of the door of the studio, and she doesn’t look back to check how his dark brows are furrowed and his arms crossed against his chest. She knows all that, and she also knows he’s going to follow her out on the corridor and down on the first floor, up until they reach the cafeteria.

“I can tell the head supervisor a word, you know.” He doesn’t ask, and she only mumbles a “mmh” in response.

Grabbing two trays from the stack, she keeps one for herself and shoves - a little too hard, and on purpose - the other to him.

“You should really get something other than coffee.” He tries again and this time as they wait for the order she has already placed. She turns around to face him, honey irises staring into a pair of grey ones, completely blank.

“Jyou,” she starts, voice so promising that his brows shoot up in amazement, “don’t dad me.”

Jyou’s facial expression falls in what Mimi has taken a habit of calling the ‘staring into the void mode’, which is one of the three common reactions she gets when they talk (she keeps track).

“Then you might as well just refer to me as Doctor Kido if you don’t want me to be considerate of you.”

He’s pouting, and she giggles. That’s the Jyou she knows, the Jyou she’s known for more than half of her life. Mimi grabs the coffee, now waiting for her on the counter, and the chamomile, placing both of them on her own tray and moving fast to the self service area with sugar and spices. Soy milk, two shakes of sugar and many of cinnamon after, Mimi meets her attending supervisor at the table on the far left, the one near the window. It’s their favorite, and she can’t remember ever having sat on another table.

“You know,” she starts, mixing her coffee before closing the cup with the plastic lid, “you should step up your game a little. That chamomile isn’t going to bring the chicks to your yard.”

He frowns, and she stares at him until he feels the urge to fix his glasses on the crook of his nose. That’s how she knows she’s won, again.

“Who even puts cinnamon in their coffee?” He pouts, again, and even if he didn’t intend the retort to come out as a question she answers him nonetheless, which she knows is a way to annoy him and make him wish he had just kept his mouth shut, for once.

“It’s perfectly normal, you know? You wouldn’t have the option of getting coffee with cinnamon syrup if people didn’t like it, and what can you do if the cafeteria of the place where you’re employed doesn’t include flavors? You add powdered cinnamon, that’s what you do.” Mimi takes a sip of her drink, savoring it with her eyes closed even after she puts the cup down on the table again. When she opens her eyes, Jyou is holding his cheeks with his hands, stretching the skin of his face downwards in the Jyou Kido certified basic reaction number two: The Scream, a painting by Norwegian expressionist Edvard Munch (yes, art was her favorite subject back in the day, that decade and a half ago, more or less). “Besides, you’re glad you have me as your fellow. The whole hospital knows I’m the prettiest one.”

Jyou breathes out loudly, and then grimaces before gulping down his chamomile as if he was gulping down his sorrows.

-

Jyou’s sitting on the metal bench just a couple of feet away from Mimi’s open locker where she’s hanging the white coat, now replaced by the blue scrubs. She walks to him, sitting next to him and mimicking his hand movements, thoroughly massaging the insides of her palms, not bothering to turn to him.

“Sora asked me if we want to get some drinks later. They’re meeting at The Island at eleven.”

“Who’s them?” Mimi wonders out loud, curious. The three of them - herself, Jyou and Sora, who had been one of Jyou’s best friend since med school - usually tried to meet at least once a week at the cocktail bar not far from NCGM, a cute place popular among the doctors of their hospital. Yes, there had been times when other friends tagged along, but that “they” wasn’t so easy to figure out, given the number of mutual colleagues the three of them shared.

Jyou shrugs, unable to give her an actual answer.

“I have no idea. It’ll probably be just us and her colleague in cardio - you know, that one whom you said looked like a lizard. She said you can tell Koushiro and Miyako about it, if you want.”

Typical Sora, Mimi thinks, always trying to look out for others. She makes the mental note of sending a text in the group chat she shares with her ex classmates, and then she stands up, holding out a hand for Jyou to grab, helping him to sit up and walk to the operating room.

-

As it turns out, it wasn’t the lizard colleague Sora brought to the little gathering, but a much younger guy none of them had ever met. The young man, messy blonde hair half hidden by a baseball cap worn backwards, is sitting next to Sora, laughing fondly when Mimi and Jyou, with Miyako and Koushiro, sit down at the table they had reserved.

“You’ve made it!” Is Sora’s delighted comment as Mimi plops down on the chair across from her, feeling the weight of the accumulated tiredness of a week of all-nighters and naps on the uncomfortable couch of her studio finally down on her shoulders. She lets her head rest on the wooden table, arms left hanging down and swinging.

“I’m exhausted.” She lets out as her last dying breath.

Miyako hops down on the spot to her left, stretching her arm to reach Mimi’s hair, moving a wavy lock away from the eyes of her friend to check if she had fallen asleep as soon as she’d hit the wooden surface.

“Hi exhausted -” the voice belonging to the young man speaks up, and the beginning of the joke is all it takes for Mimi to come to life again, raise her head as well as her hand, surfacing from behind the table, to shoot a dangerous look to the newcomer and try to stop him before he can say “ - I’m Takeru.”

Takeru smiles, his eyes curving into two cute half moons, and Mimi’s head falls back to the table with a loud noise.

“Damn.” Miyako comments, arms crossing over her chest and eyes checking out Takeru, looking clueless there right next to Sora. “I didn’t think anyone else under their forties would ever dare to pull a dad joke.” She grabs one of the open beer bottles in the center of the table and lifts it up in Takeru’s direction. “Impressing. I’ve only ever seen Taichi look cool with a dad joke up until now.”

The younger one raises his brows, visibly pleased by the unexpected compliment coming from Miyako. “Why, thank you.” He replies, lifting his own glass to exchange the unspoken toast between the two of them.

“Yagami tells dad jokes?” Jyou asks, a little incredulous. Miyako nods while still sipping down her beer.

“Mmmh. Pretty often. Turns out the patients like it. Makes him look goofy.”

Mimi opens an eye, sneaking a look at her friend explaining. “Who’s Yagami?” She asks weakly, but curious nonetheless, still half lost in the conversation. She tries to sit up, feeling her head hurt as soon as she comes to an almost standing position with her back, so much she has to hold her forehead with her hand to put some pressure on it and relieve the momentary pain.

“Yagami from Trauma and Emergency.” It’s Jyou who replies her, but Miyako who specifies. “I’m his fellow.”

“Aaaah.” Mimi finally understands, turning to face Sora right across the table. “The hot one.”

Sora nods, a finger pointing in her direction in a sign of understanding. They had seen him in the cafeteria a couple of times, or walking through the corridors to get to the Trauma and Emergency Center, and she remembers Mimi’s open remarks about the width of his biceps.

“Is he single?” Mimi asks, now turning to Miyako. On the other side of the purple haired girl, Koushiro shakes his head incredulous. “Really.”

Mimi shoots him a look, showing him a grimace. “Yes, really.”

MIyako shrugs, holding out her hands on each side of her as to push back her two friends.

“How would I know? I’m his fellow, not his trustee.”

Mimi nudges her waist, glancing maliciously at her. “You call him Taichi.”

Miyako scoots left, getting out of Mimi’s reach only to find Koushiro, on that side, already showing her a mischievous grin that mirrors the one of his best friend, and he’s ready to attack. “Does Taichi let all the fellows call him that?” And again, Mimi, “Does Taichi like it when you call him that?” And Miyako has to slam down her now empty beer bottle on the table, so hard that Jyou is already halfway through the panicking mode as he foresees the bottle being broken into hundreds of tiny little pieces of glass, scattered everywhere in the bar, resulting in a lifelong ban from The Island impending on them. And Jyou doesn’t want that.

The glass of the bottle doesn’t crack, but the noise is loud enough to make the group - and the entire place - go silent for a couple of slow, embarrassing seconds. Sora mutters an “Incredibly sorry”, or something along those lines, and it’s Miyako the first one to break the ice again, wanting to have the last word.

“I’m his fellow.” She starts, talking fast with her lips drawn into a thin line, eyes moving quickly from Mimi on her right to Koushiro on her left to not give them the opportunity to stop her once more. “I’m well past the crush stage, believe me, after you see his eating habits during break everyone would be past it.” Miyako stares in front of her lost in her thoughts, before turning one last time to Mimi, and looking a great deal more calm, to add: “Besides, he’s more of your type.”

Mimi just stares at her.

“My type?” She asks, unsure.

It’s Koushiro the one to answer her, butting in the conversation he was not long before a part of. “You know, buff.”

“Hunky.” Sora continues.

“Remember the body builder?” Jyou adds turning from Sora to Miyako and Koushiro. Koushiro points at him, his eyes going wide. Then, he oppresses a snort only because of the look Mimi flashes him.

“How do you all even know my type?” Mimi demands, an octave higher. Miyako shrugs back, clearly not impressed by how offended her friend is pretending to be.

“We all know each other’s type. It’s, like, basic knowledge. Jyou’s type is the down-to-earth woman that can take care of him (here, Jyou grimaces, turning away the bottle he’s holding in a defeated manner), Sora wants the family oriented and -”

Miyako’s explanation is cut short by Takeru, who’s now fixing the hair free from his cap, turning to Sora as fast as a lightning bolt and putting a hand on her shoulder, shaking her lightly to turn her attention to him.

“You like family oriented guys?” He asks her directly.

Sora starts with a “Well…”, but it’s Mimi who replies, confirming Miyako’s statement. “She does.”

Takeru’s eyes widen together with his smile, and the rest of the table is left wondering how exactly can Sora’s taste in men bring so much joy to a guy much younger than her as Takeru.

“Do you want me to introduce you to my brother? I’ve been trying to hook him up with someone for years but he just doesn’t want to hear it.”

Takeru’s smile is expectant, and Sora has to blink a couple of times before coming to the conclusion that one of the residents in cardiology that she’s in charge of just offered her a possible date. But Mimi is faster than her again, and before Sora can remember how to make her vocal cords work again, she’s already asking the important question to Takeru.

“Who’s your brother? Do you have a picture of him?”

Takeru nods, taking out his phone from the pocket of the jeans he’s wearing.

“Do you know Doctor Ishida? He works at the hospital as well.” He lets out casually while unlocking the phone.

Sora’s eyes widen as she turns to Mimi, and at the same time Miyako’s hand flies to Mimi’s shoulder, shaking her with force. The reply to Takeru’s answer comes in unison from the three women, taking the clueless resident by surprise.

“The god?”

Takeru looks up from his phone, startled.

“Doctor Ishida from oncology?” Jyou comes to their aid, and Takeru nods. Then Koushiro wonders: “Ishida is family oriented? I’d never tell.”

“Is that what he goes by now?” He chuckles. “I know, he gives off that vampire vibe sometimes. But he’s actually nice.”

“One of the few associates with some logic.” Jyou comments.

“So,” Takeru turns to Sora again, showing her the lit screen of his phone, “do you want his number?”

-

Nightshifts can be quite endearing, if you ask her. Sure, she’d rather be home snuggling her favorite pillow as she lies down on her own, oh-so-comfortable bed (or, as a variation, as she is being laid down on her own, oh-so-comfortable bed), but night duty is not too terrible when the hospital offers those Oscar-worthy performances.

Like this couple who’s yelling at each other as they wait in the hall, the man laying on the stretcher and the woman beside him hitting him repeatedly with her purse, and the first aid doctors pleading her to stop just as many times as she releases her frustration at - as Mimi had guessed he was - her husband. On the other side of the man, another woman is standing, her own hands stroking her arms crossed over the chest; everything about her screams “uncomfortable”, and the sight does nothing but fuel the entertainment of the row of employees behind the front acceptation desk.

“What’s going on?”

A male doctor approaches the bunch, but Mimi doesn’t turn to check who it is, afraid she’ll miss a turn of events from the show unfolding before her eyes. She does answer him nonetheless, though, as everybody else seems too interested in what’s happening to reply.

“Are you asking for the medical report or the facts?”

“Whatever’s more fun.” Replies the doctor. Mimi grins, and she notices with the corner of her eyes the secretary who had been standing next to her making space for the doctor, and the latter bending his back and resting his elbows on the desk to enjoy the show more comfortably.

“Dude broke his weenie during an encounter with his girlfriend. They had to call his wife. He’ll probably need two operations if she keeps hitting him like that.” Mimi explains, trying to stay cool as she reveals what the party had gathered up until then.

“Her bag seems heavy.” A resident behind her adds, and she thoughtfully nods.

“Ouch. That’s harsh.” The doctor comments.

“I mean, it’s understandable.” Mimi points out, her shoulders raising and then dropping again. She feels the man beside her turn his head to her, but she keeps her gaze fixed on the wife who’s now yelling something along the lines of “I would too if I were twenty! It’s you who should’ve kept it in your pants!”.

“Been cheated on?” He asks Mimi.

“I was the other woman.” She admits easily, without putting too much weight on it.

“Impressive.” He replies. When Mimi turns her head to the right where he’s placed next to her, her eyebrows raise in pleasant surprise.

There are three things she notices, in the following order. First, his face is relaxed, and he’s offering a smile different from those ones she’s used to get whenever the news of her having been the lover of a taken man slips out (God, if she’s so over those). Second, he’s closer to her than she’d expected; he’s still laying his forearms on the surface of the desk, hands collected, but his head is tilted to her side not far from her, and Mimi quickly wonders about how tall he can be, if even bent down he’s still at her eye level. Third, and most importantly, she realizes who exactly he is.

“Wanna go get coffee?”

And just like that, at 1:05 am of a heated August night Taichi Yagami is offering a way out of her night shift, and in all honesty Mimi is not really sure she can say yes, but that doesn’t stop her from turning around and leading the way to the cafeteria on the other side of the building (when she gets home, in the morning, she tells herself that everyone was gathered at the front desk anyway, so it wasn’t like they’d notice her missing).

As it turns out, Yagami Taichi of the Trauma and Emergency Center ("aspiring head of the department") had been an associate at NCGM for a couple of years already, though he was not much older than Mimi, with only a two years difference. Mimi had lightly bowed when he had properly introduced himself, reminding herself that he was an actual surgeon, and she was still a fellow, and as unused to good custom as she was, the image of Jyou scolding her had been too clear in her mind to skip formalities. But then Doctor Yagami had waved his hand so hurriedly to stop her from bending further that she had to go for the good, old, western way, offering her hand and waiting for him to squeeze it.

"I have a feeling we're a little past the formal stage, with you telling me about your past choices and all that." His comment had earned an earnest chuckle from her, and he had payed it back with a smirk of his own before adding an "I'm not judging" as he had turned to get the two coffees they had ordered.

"Didn't think you would." She had answered.

Mimi had observed him ask for their drinks in a charming way, different from how she'd seen other men flirt with employees in bars. He had been offering a bright smile with his requests, and it felt like his voice was genuinely interested when he had asked how it was going or said the usual thank you after getting the coffees. And there she was now, sitting next to him on one of the benches in the backyard just out of the cafeteria, sipping her cinnamon flavored coffee at past 1am with a doctor of a higher rank that up until that morning she had been labelling as "the hot one".

She had found talking to Doctor Yagami as easy as conversing with every other of her old time friends, and there, under the stars of that heated night, as he was telling her about how this one time a fifteen year old patient had developed this huge crush on him during the time she had spent in the hospital recovering, Mimi had thought that that patient was pretty relatable.

Yagami Taichi was the epitome of tall, dark and handsome. With his tanned skin and longish hair pulled back in a casual way, now that Mimi had the opportunity to watch him from a close perspective he was handsome in a particular way, with his kind brown eyes and dimples showing whenever he laughed. But, above everything else, it had been his straightforwardness and openness to attract Mimi closer to him as they had been sipping their respective coffees, how he’d casually touched her shoulder after a joke, or how his leg had moved to graze hers as he had asked for a question about her hair she doesn’t really remember now.

And there she is, asking herself how long she'll be able to last sitting there like that - their knees casually touching as he keeps a strand of her hair between his fingers - before this all becomes uncomfortable. But then, she's surprised to realize that instead of uneasiness, she's feeling that sudden rush of excitement through her body, starting from the spot where his warm leg is touching hers, to the tips of her fingers.

And maybe he's thinking the same, because when their eyes meet he lets her hair go only to bring his hand to her cheek, sliding down until he's cupping her neck and his thumb is moving cautiously over her earlobe, causing her breathing to become more irregular, and her eyes to lower on his lips.

The thought of how inappropriate this whole thing is doesn’t even cross her mind as he brings her face closer to his own, and she's actually the one to dive in and close the distance between them to find out his lips are soft, and just right, and when he parts them his tongue is sweet and warm and she can taste the coffee they had been sipping until only minutes before.

He does something with his tongue that makes her want more and then she's grabbing his white coat with both of her hands to bring his whole body closer, because his mouth is not enough anymore. He complies, and she feels his right hand tightening its grip on the back of her neck, and the other one traveling over her leg and up, up, up, until she feels pressure right where she really needs him.

"Where's your office?" She breathes between one kiss and the next, and it takes her all she’s got to do so and not let the urge of laying down on that bench get the best of her.

"Trauma and Emergency is too crowded at night." He barely manages to give her a coherent answer, and Mimi is quick to reply: "Neurosurgery isn't."

His lips are on hers again just as soon as she turns around after locking the door of her office behind her, and then he's pinning her between himself and the door, her small body covered by his slightly bent one. She swings one leg around his hips to give him the clue, and readily he takes it and picks her up only to stumble through a desk and a pile of boxes before making it to the couch.

"Do you have condoms?" She asks him when she's sitting on top of him, one shoulder of her white coat together with the one of her dress down her arm showing her bare skin, and she sees him fixing her naked spot and squeezing her bottom before trying to reply.

"I really didn't think I'd be doing this at work." It comes out with a somewhat apologetic tone, but Mimi is more concentrated on the way he's looking at her, his eyes burning and fingers sliding to her front to deepen into her. She moans, half biting her bottom lip, letting her head fall and rest on his shoulder, hiding her face on the crook of his neck and kissing him in that spot as he lightly bites the skin of her shoulder.

"I should have a couple in my purse." She manages to say with some difficulty, distracted by how he in thrusting inside her with his fingers. And, unable to part from her, he lifts himself and her from the couch to reach for the bag sitting on the desk on the other side of the room.

He lays her on the desk, moving the stack of papers and other objects his mind is not quick enough to recognize on the side, and he starts kissing her cheek and her ear, traveling down to her neck. With the hand that is not holding the hair on the back of his head, she blindly looks for the condoms in the inside pocket of her purse.

Then there is not enough to time to do things properly, to get rid of their clothing or to move back on the couch to be more comfortable. All she feels is anticipation and electricity running through her veins, and she only registers him kneeling down to bother with removing her underwear only with his teeth before he sinks himself inside her, and she clings to him with all her body.

-

The last week of August brings with itself a slightly cooler wind, and for the first time in what feels like an eternity Mimi is able to leave the windows open in each room she stops by. With the end of the month comes the end of some of the doctors’ vacations, and the pace at the hospital seems to slowly go back to its normal state. She spends her days between the hospital, The Island and - finally - her flat, staying by Jyou for the most time, catching up with Sora during those breaks they share, dropping by the Laboratory to check if Koushiro is feeding himself properly, and making sure she doesn’t visit Miyako during her work hours.

Not that she’s ever wondered around the Trauma and Emergency Center that often, ever. She and Miyako had made the pact of trying to stay out of each other’s way as much as possible during work hours ever since her younger friend had started her fellowship, and the reason behind it had been quite simple: they were both very talkative people, and being good friends as they were it wasn’t hard to find ways to waste time. In addition to that, they also used to share an apartment up until Miyako had moved back with one of her sisters the previous fall, when her other sister had gotten married and moved out.

Miyako leaving the flat had been quite disrupting back then. Mimi remembers a time when she’d needed her friend’s presence after a date turned particularly wrong, and found emptiness in what used to be her room. Granted - she still had Koushiro with her, and as her best friend he had been there for her during all those so called emergencies when Miyako couldn’t teleport herself from one side of town to the other, but Mimi had come to the conclusion, one day, than more than Miyako’s mere presence, she missed the flat dynamic that there had been for many years between herself, Koushiro and Miyako.

And now, roughly one year later, Miyako’s room is still free, and Mimi and Koushiro still reject an average of 1.5 flatmate applications a week because even though they have no intention of letting anyone other than their former flatmate in, they still keep the notice of a room up for rent out. Which doesn’t make sense, as Mimi’s heard so many times form Jyou, but that didn’t mind. She’d found her safe haven in that shared apartment with Koushiro, and while she had always been the right girl for an adventure, now she was at a time in her life that asked for stability, calm, and a sense of belonging.

(All of which she doesn’t have, or at least she doesn’t feel so, as if she’s hanging in there even if there aren’t storms around her. She feels like she’s still, and everything else moves around her, and in everything, she doesn’t feel the need of taking action. She simply doesn’t feel.)

“So I’ve heard —“

There’s a look of pure horror in Mimi’s eyes when she looks up from the tray full of empty dishes of what had been her lunch to find Takeru’s beaming eyes. In a split second, she wonders just how fast gossip can travel between the walls of that stupid hospital, also trying to figure out a way to disagree and change topics almost immediately.

“— that you’re trying to find a new housemate.”

A sigh leaves Mimi’s rosy lips and it’s then that she takes in the scene unfolding before her eyes: Takeru - in contrary to what she believed - isn’t alone. There’s another guy right next to him, propped on the chair in front of her as he’s trying to climb it in a funny sort of way. His hair’s so spiky she wonders if that’s a way he likes to style it or that’s just the way it is - much like Koushiro, that no matter how many products she decides to try on him, his hair won’t flatten.

“Trying is a big word.” She simply comments, resolving into pouring herself the last drops of soda there’s left in the can into the empty glass.

[the-canary]

Starlight - B.B (3/6)

Summary: Mysterious, but life changing things always happen if you just let life take its course – you decided to try it for once. (Modern AU!Reader/Bucky Barnes).

Prompt: Emily Dickinson: XXI

Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 

A/N: This is for @abovethesmokestacks ‘s Summer Writing Challenge.  At the end, I am not trying to make the main character seem vain or greedy, as shown with the constellation’s background story, but the beauty and other things that she holds from Bucky’s POV. Just wanted to point that out. 

Feedback is always welcomed.

As much as Bucky loves traveling and seeing the stars from all types of different scenery while enjoying the type nature that you just can’t get in New York, he still has his bad days. There are days were he shuts himself in his hotel for days, where the screams and darkness living within his mind suffocate him. There are other days where he is completely numb, ignoring the red in his eyes and the red from where he scratches too hard -- but, he thinks he deserves it after all he has done.

It’s one of those times when he slowly makes his way way into central Arizona after spending some time in Utah. From the very beginning, Bucky felt like something was off -- he was too hot, the desert reminded him too much of his time back in the Army, and the coldness that settled over the desert dug too deeply into the scar tissue of his left arm and the invisible wounds that ran up and down his body.  

“ Hey Sam ,” he calls his sometimes friend after being woken up by the hotel staff -- his neighbors had given numerous complaints throughout the night of his screaming.

They threaten to kick him out without remorse, worst case scenario they call the police, but Bucky leaves to another hotel closer to the road  before they can.

“ Hey Stevie ,” he cries to his sleepy best friend, as the unfriendly darkness (the one without stars) causes him to cry all night, though he tries to muffle the sound until he gets two hours of fitful sleep.

He’s no good, is all Bucky can think to himself, as tears stains run down his cheeks and there’s a heavy feeling in his chest. He turns over and reaches out for his little journal. Blue eyes stare that the picture tapped in the beginning for a long time, as he wishes a certain someone was here with him but at the same time, wishes (and is happy) she is so far from him -- probably has already forgotten about him. He lets out another choked sob at the thought.

He’s no good for anybody.  

 Arizona has to be the worst state you have ever been to, though it wasn’t you’re doing -- everything just seems against from the beginning. You had felt a sense of renewal after coming back from New Mexico and it showed in both your professional and personal life, as you finished projects with stellar praise from your superiors and you had even gone out a couple of times with your friends and had even started talking to Wanda every once and awhile. Things were going great and then your supervisor, Mrs. Hill, had decided to send you to a week long seminar in Arizona, and while you had been excited in the beginning -- the traveling details, extra work hours, and general disregard for your health slowly changed your mood. It also didn’t help that it was the fucking middle of summer and your mother had been in the same area, through her own work was well, causing you to meet up as a result for a quick family dinner. However you should know by now those never ended well.

This what you do, what a disappointment. No romantic life either, what good are you  for anyways?

By midweek, you were tired from the lack of sleep and anxiety running through your veins leading to you  sitting in the middle of your room with your notebook, hoping that writing might calm you down like it usually did -- it wasn’t doing a good job. You wanted to go home, you wanted someone to tell you it was going to be all right, but even with all the small changes that you had been making… you didn’t have any of that. Why didn’t you? Weren’t you good enough? Was your mother right about the choices you had made since leaving her home all those years ago?

The anxiety and suffocating loneliness becomes too much, as you walk out of your hotel room in shorts and a old t-shirt to look for a vending machine, just to get out of your head and focus on something else -- that’s when you see him standing next to your destination, red-eyed with shaggy clothing and hair as you stop breathing for a moment.

The universe always knows what you need, as your grandmother used to say.  

 Flagstaff, AZ

“Bucky?” a soft voice drags Bucky from his endless tasks of counting the stars from his current viewpoint. It wasn’t enough, but it was better than staying in his room by his lonesome, but the sound of that voice makes him think he’s finally lost it. Why would she be here of all places?

He wipes away the sleep from his eyes, to make sure he isn’t dreaming, “Doll, what ya doing here?”

You smile as the sound of his voice, as you step a bit closer to him. You both look like individual wrecks in the middle of the night, but seeing him just lifts your spirits like they haven’t been in a long while. He straightens himself up, as you look at the machine trying to pick what to choose, as you explain that you are here for work purposes and he tells you that he’s still traveling, actually on his way to see the Grand Canyon. With the trade of plenseteries over, there is only one other ignored issue  to bring up between the two of you -- the elephant in the room, and you ask first.

“Can’t sleep?” you ask timidly as red-rimmed blue eyes look at you before turning to look at the dark canopy he knows like the back of his hand, but sometimes it can feel disorentiening, like he’s a little kid afraid of the dark. He shakes his head and tries to stay nonchalant about the whole situation, he doesn’t need to burden you with his problems.

“Can’t sleep. Nightmares,” he explains with a shrug, as your brittle smile takes him by surprise. Your next words do even more so.  

“Ah, insomnia,” you tell him you own problems with a light laugh that cracks in the end. You put a dollar and some change into the machine only to pick up a small candy bar afterwards, but it isn’t enough as your stomach growls even harder after you finish said morsole, the lack of food and general sickness you have been avoiding is finally catching up with you, as you look away from Bucky in embarrassment for a moment -- only for his stomach to return your stomach’s call.  

“Do you wanna get something to eat?” you laugh, loud and sweetly, as Bucky feels his face get hotter for a moment. He is ready to deny your invitation --he doesn’t want you to be wasting your time or money on him more than you have to-- until you add with a smile, “I’ve got a company card.”  

“Well, I can’t say no to that,” Bucky lets out with a chuckle, as he watches your face light up like a Christmas light, though he doesn’t exactly understand why. You tell him to wait and run down the hall to where your room is, as Bucky shakes his head unsure of what he got himself into but appreciating whatever had brought you to him for the night.

You run back outside with your keys and wallet, as you motion for Bucky to follow you to the white rental car that was parked not that far away from your room’s location. He can’t help but shake his head at your sudden enthusiasm, but he can’t feel like it’s warming up his bones and chasing all the voices in his head for a moment. As he gets into the car and you head down a little ways to find a diner that caught your interest earlier in the week, you are both happy to not be spending another night alone.

 Once you enter the 24-hour diner,  the two of you realized that you were both hungrier than you had originally thought, since you end up ordering a big breakfast with hash browns, Bucky does the same but with an additional side of pancakes. Though it was silent as you stuffed your faces, you started to talk about anything that comes to mind as he tells you about Steve and Sam, while you talk about work and Wanda. Once you have talked about all of them, you get down to the real business at hand -- stars.

“I graduated not that long ago and I wanted to celebrate,” Bucky explains bashfully on how he got the idea for his star journey after finally getting his Bachelor’s degree, but instead of being met with disbelief or apprehension, all he can see is pure amazement on your face, “Wanted to see what I fought so hard for.”

“That’s amazing, Bucky,” your smile dazzles him completely, as you stop to tell the waitress that you need two chocolate cakes with scoop of vanilla ice cream, much to his embarrassment.   

“What about you? What made you go to New Mexico?” he questions as he leans a bit more, his blue eyes meeting yours and waiting for an answer because since the very beginning --with you coming into Inwood Park wearing a business suit but with all the curiosity in the world in your bright eyes-- he wondered why you were so into stars.

“I think I’m trying to look for something,” you start explaining softly while having Bucky’s undivided attention, “My grandma died a while back and left me a lot of her art, all of which was stars. It wasn’t until recently I finally got to take a good look at them, I didn’t know a single constellation nor its meaning. I just feel like I need to know now, like I owe it too her, ya know?”

You give him a watery smile before wiping a stray tear from you eye, as he grasps your hand for moment, “I’m sure she would be proud of you, doll. Taking the first step is never easy.”

You give him a nod, unsure of whether your voice is going to crack or not if you try thanking him. However, the mood quickly passes as the waitress comes back with your desserts. You hum in appreciation at the sight of the chocolate cake before taking your spoon in celebration.

“To you, Bucky, for graduating and taking this journey!” you declare before taking a bite, as Bucky just shakes his head in embarrassment.  

“To you and your grandma,” he says, though not as loud as you. And you stay there for awhile, simply enjoying each other’s company.

 The drive back to the hotel is quieter as the lack of sleep and heavy food begins to hit both of you, and you’re thankful that the diner wasn’t that far since your eyelids are dropping as you park in the hotel once more. You stay there, in a hazy sort of happiness and ready to go to sleep only to feel someone opening the driver side door and picking you up. You turn your head only slightly to see Bucky with the same haze taking over his eyes, though there is a satisfied smile on his face.

“Time for bed, Sleeping Beauty,” he states and you briefly wonder if this was how Bucky usually acted with all the ladies or if it was the sleep deprivation talking, but you don’t say anything as he carries to your room and opens the door. He sets you down as softly as he can. A soft touch to your forehead before he gets up to leave, though he is apprehensive to be left alone in his room once more, especially after spending all this time with you. However, a light touch to his right hand causes him to look down once more.

“Stay,” you whimper out, as blue eyes widen for a moment at the thought that you don’t want to be alone either. He wants to say no, scared of what might happen if he falls asleep, of how he could hurt, but your hold on his hand tightens and you drag him down a bit, “ Please. ”   

The sound of your voice and the shimmer of your sleepy eyes break Bucky very easily, as he lays down as you move to the other side a bit more. Due to you holding his hand, he is facing you in the center of the bed, as he tries his hardest to keep his left arm from you, just to protect you a bit -- as best as he can. You give him one last smile while holding his hand, but leaving a gap between the two of you.

“Goodnight Bucky,” you sigh before closing your eyes and letting slumber drag you away for the first time in a week, blue eyes watch as your breathing begins to slow down and light snoring escapes your parted lips. Bucky yawns and the soft warmth next to him slowly begins to drag him to sleep as well, though he does try to fight it here and there.

“Goodnight,” he whispers out your name before setting down into a dreamless sleep.

You end up missing those morning workshops for the seminar, though you can’t help but agree that it is the best sleep you had gotten in some time, though it is a little embarrassing to have woken up to tangled limbs and a soft caress of your name on his lips -- but, you would never tell him that.

 The few remaining days you have in Arizona are spent with Bucky as much as you can. In the mornings, you go to all the workshops and network the best you can, but the afternoon and evening are spent eating, exchanging stories, or simply driving aways out to the desert and talking (and by extension taking pictures or writing down things) about all the stars he knows and you want to learn of. Though for tonight, you were simply lying down on your bed together, trading stories after ordering some hotel food.    

“I don’t know, I like Andromeda better,” you laugh from your side of the bed while staring at the star map that he usually carried around, as Bucky shakes his head, “Okay, so who do you like?”

“Cassiopeia,” he remarks as you get up a little and give him a look of disbelief  since you knew her story well enough, but before you can ask he already bets you to the explaining his reasoning, “She was beautiful and knew what she wanted, I like that in a gal.”

You laugh before pushing your elbow into his rib cage just slightly,”You’re ridiculous, Bucky.”

He laughs along with you, never saying anything of how her story reminds him more of you than Andromeda ever could.

 However, just like in New Mexico, good things have to come to end as you wrap up everything and get ready to head back to Pulliam Airport to head back home. Bucky is standing in front of your rental car a sad smile on his face, but looking better than he was a few nights back, and his own backpack placed near him as he continued his journey towards the Grand Canyon. You’re standing a bit closer than the last time you left each other, as his right hand sweeps over your knuckles for a moment. You give him a small smile, encouraging him to tell you what is on your mind before you have to go.   

“Could I have your phone number?” he asks shyly, as your smile grows at his request, “I mean if it isn’t too much to ask.”

“Of course, you can,” you state before he takes out his phone, which you had seen here and there throughout the days you spent together, and punch in your number as a new contact, “So, don’t hesitate to call me.”

“Okay,” is all he manages to say.

You take a step forward and though you hadn’t talked about the nightmares or insecurity that haunted the both of you. You knew that you needed to tell Bucky one more thing before you left tim, “Bucky, you’re more than enough. Got it?”

“I know,” he breathes out, understanding what you are trying to tell him. His hand tightens around yours just a bit as you smile and he swears than he can see the stars shining in your eyes, even though it is the middle of the afternoon, and he knows he has to say it as well, “You are too, doll.”

“Okay,” you smile, taking a step back and heading towards the front of the car, though you’re already missing him, “But don’t forget to send me some star pics on your adventures, or just call me!”

“I will!” He smiles and watches you enter the rented car and drive off, his heart lighter than before since he had entered the desert, but also aching at the loss of you, wondering if he was going to see you again but knows he had you a bit closer than before as he stares at the number on his phone  -- a new, cozier picture of you, of when the two of you had been lying about and your hair was a mess, but there was a huge smile on your face. He couldn't get rid of the smile on his face for a couple of days, as he keeps moving forward.

Hey, doll...was thinking of you when I took this.

It’s a picture of the dark sky over a mountainous backdrop, but if you looked hard enough you could see the vague outline of Cassiopeia, and maybe that’s what was he was starting to feel for you.  

Part 4

[stained-carmine]

‘Come on, it’ll be fun!’

‘W-well, I’m not so sure...’

‘Trust me!’

...

‘Admittedly, I’m a little scared...but, if you’re by my side, then I don’t need to be afraid.’

‘Something like that...being a part of it? It’s like we’re pioneers in a new chapter of history...isn’t that exciting?’

‘As long as you’re here with me, holding my hand, I have the courage to face anything.’

“...ey”

‘Today’s the day! Are you ready to change the world?’

‘I-I won’t lie, I’m a little nervous...my heart won’t stop pounding...I’m afraid it might burst...but...I’m also excited, it’s so overwhelming...’

“Hey...”

‘Wait...Something doesn’t feel right...What’s going—’

‘AAAAAAAAH—’

‘It hurts...It hurts so much...I don’t want to die...! I’m scared! Where are you? I can’t...see you...anymore......Where are you...?! Please...don’t leave me....Don’t let me die here...Please...!’

‘BLAIRE!’

“Hey!”

A sudden touch brought you back to the present, and away from the nightmares of your past. You looked up to the individual who had shaken you from your trance. Before you stood the bartender, gazing at you with concern.

“Are you alright there?”

You stared at him blankly for a moment, like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming vehicle, then it dawned on you that he has asked you a question.

“Ah....N-no, I’m fine.“ You responded sheepishly.

The bartender frowned at you, unconvinced, but let out a sigh as he shook his head. “If you say so...” And with that he sauntered off, seeing to the needs of the other patrons.

As the man walked away, you lowered your gaze to the glass of whiskey you’d been nursing for the past hour or so. The ice cubes had all but melted away by now, leaving you with a mix of alcohol and water. It’s not as if you had your heart set on drinking the whole thing, but it was a little disheartening nonetheless.

Letting out a soft sigh, you pushed the glass aside. You thoughts wandered back to earlier that day, when you had told told Marcel you were leaving. Of course, he objected to it, saying you hadn’t full healed yet and that he could do more to help you recover—to help return you to your former self—at least physically.

You glanced down to your right arm, which was resting on the bar. The right side of your body had suffered quite a bit of damage from the fire, with scars extending from your neck, all the way to your ankles. While Marcel had told you that with skin grafts, you would be able to reduce the amount of scar tissue that covered your body, letting you return to the way you looked before, you weren’t ready for that. You weren’t ready to let go of the past, to forget what happened, to move on from your loss...

It was then that you heard something that caught your attention. The television in the corner of the room, anchored to the ceiling, had been set to a new broadcast since you entered the bar. It had mostly been local news, recent events and crimes, nothing of interest to you really—until now that is.

“It’s been six months since the tragedy that claimed the lives of over a hundred people in Hycasal, yet authorities are still no closer to finding the perpetrator.” On the screen were the remnants of a burned building, half collapsed in on itself, like someone had detonated a bomb in the building. “The man responsible for the disaster is Shin Kiromura, age 25, the former head of research and development at Alistarias Pharmaceuticals.” A photo of a man is brought up on the screen as the newscaster gives a verbal description of his appearance. A hateful glare replaces your sorrowful visage as you lay eyes upon that man, clenching your teeth as you scowled at his likeness. “He was conducting research into the effects of a drug his team was developing. Kiromura failed to report the possible dangers of a compound used in the creation of the drug to his supervisors, ignoring the risks and possible dangers this could pose to human health. With government funding, a clinical trial was carried out late summer of last year under the Caristalian Military’s watch. During clinical testing, an explosion occurred at the military facility located on the edge of Hycasal, causing a fire to break out in the lab. All 30 participants in the clinical trial died during the explosion along with 10 researchers who were in the lab monitoring the vitals of the participants. During the evacuation, the structural integrity of the building became compromised and the building collapsed, killing 73 more people, 16 of which were first responders. Eye witness reports from a survivor state that Kiromura fled the scene with the remainder of the highly volatile compound used in the manufacturing process of the drug. Authorities issued a warrant for his arrest and began a manhunt following the disaster, but have been unable to locate him.”

The screen displayed a series of shots, focusing on the building and the surrounding area, one of which caught your eye. At the main entrance to the building, a memorial had been erected in order to honor all the lives lost that day. You bit your lip slightly as you felt a twinge of pain in your heart. So many dead...and all for what? Some scientist’s hubris? A man who thought himself above the risks? Who didn’t care about how his choices would affect others? And to think that the police hadn’t caught him. For such a man to be free, to go unpunished for his heinous crimes, to still be out there with that reactive material, allowing him to create yet another tragedy if he so desired. It was infuriating.

“Kiromura is wanted for 113 counts of second degree murder, criminal negligence, and terrorism. This man is believed to be highly dangerous, and in possession of high explosives. If you see this man, contact authorities immediately, do not approach him. If you have any information regarding this man’s whereabouts, please contact—”

“Terrible, isn’t it?”

You flinched at the sudden voice coming from behind you, causing you to spin around swiftly. A man had sat down next to you at the bar, waving the bartender over to order his drink. You eyed the man with suspicion, ready to fight back should he have malicious intent, but he just gave you a friendly smile in return. “You seemed really focused on that broadcast, did you lose someone in that disaster?” He asked, raising the beer he had ordered to his lips.

You were hesitant to answer him. You didn’t know this man, you couldn’t tell if he had ulterior motives behind this idle conversation. Giving him another once over with your eyes, you didn’t see anything that would indicate he was armed. He also didn’t look like an officer, either of the police force or the military. Everything about him seemed ordinary, from the clothes he wore, to the way he carried himself. With a lingering doubt in your mind, you opened your mouth to answer him.

“...Yeah, yeah I did...” You replied, turning your gaze from him and lowering your head.

“Sorry to hear that...” The man’s smile faded, replaced with a concerned frown. “Can’t believe they haven’t caught the guy yet. You figure finding one man would be easy when his face is on every news station in the country.” The stranger took another swig from his glass before turning towards you. “You know, I heard that the military are offering a reward for his capture. Those meatheads and gun nuts can’t stand to have their pride sullied. Way I figure, they think if they can catch the guy, they can earn back the trust of the people. Like we could ever trust that shady general after that though. The military was supposed to be overseeing that trial right? How could they have missed that psycho hiding right under their noses?”

You had to mentally reel yourself in to stop yourself from snapping back at the man. Keeping a calm facade, you responded. “Is that so? How much are they offering?”

The man shrugged, downing the rest of what was in his glass before calling the bartender over for a refill. “Mm, not sure myself. Only heard about it from a friend you see. Don’t even know if it’s true.” Thanking the bartender, he raised the glass to his lips before pausing. “Though if it is, they’re awfully desperate. You’d figure they’d start by interrogating all the survivors first before offering rewards to the public.”

“They probably did already. Usually that’s the first thing they do in an investigation. Question witnesses, bring in the people that knew the culprit.” You had to catch yourself so as to not give away your former occupation. “...Or at least that’s what they do in police dramas.” If they hadn’t caught that man by now, interrogations probably turned up no leads. You felt your heart sink a bit. If you were going to go through with this plan of yours, that would have been your first course of action. You scowled slightly from beneath your hood, you might need to rethink your plan at this rate.

“My cousin’s friend was employed at the facility, and was in the building that day.” The voice came from across the bar, from the bartender who seemed to have overheard our conversation. After serving up some mixed drinks to a group a friends who had come into the bar to celebrate, the bartender wandered back over to the two of us. “Said the guy had been in a coma ever since.” Noticing the drink I had sat aside with no intention of finishing, the bartender took the glass and poured it out, washing and rinsing the glass out for a future customer to use. “Just the other day I heard the guy had just woke up for the first time in six months. My cousin was ecstatic. He was actually going to go visit him today actually.”

A spark lit up in your mind as this opportunity presented itself. “That’s great. Will your cousin be coming here to celebrate after?”

The bartender laughed in response. “You kidding me? He wouldn’t be caught dead in here. Too shabby of a place for him. If anything, he’d probably hit up one of the bars in the city.”

“Ah, your cousin is one of those guys. Too good for a small place like this. Needs one of those fancy restaurants where you buy a whole bottle of wine to go with your meal.”

“Well, I can’t deny that but still...” The bartender frowned at the man who had just finished his second beer, and was now demanding a third, garnering an eye roll from the man behind the counter. With a sigh he took the man’s glass and began to pour him another. “What about you? Did you want another drink?”

“Ah no, I’ve spent long enough sitting here, it’s about time I left. I have things to take care of.” You said, rising from you seat and waving the notion off.

“Is that right? Well, take care then. Thanks for the patronage.” The bartender said as he handed the man his third beer.

With a nod and a slight wave, you departed, making your way out of the building. One outside, the friendly smile you were wearing vanished, replaced by a stern frown.

With resolve in your heart, you stepped forward, away from all that tied you to this small town to the east of Hycasal. Taking what would be the first steps in a long journey, you pressed on, with goal in mind and a drive in your soul.

That broadcast, there was something off about it. The details didn’t add up. Memories of brief interactions with that man, with Shin Kiromura, flashed in your mind. He had seemed like a rather hopeful individual to you...so why would he suddenly sabotage his own experiment? It didn’t make sense.

You wanted answers—no, you needed them. If there was any hope of you being able to move forward, to accept the death of your dear friend and overcome the tragedy that befell you that day, you had to know why it all happened.

That was another thing the news had wrong, that no participants had survived that catastrophe. No, there was one participant that did survive.

You.

The burns that marred your flesh, the haunting memories of that day, and that feeling you had felt in the moments before the blast. All proof that you were there. That you survived. Against all the odds, you, and only you, had made it out of that room alive.

Out of the fires of hell you rose. Determined to get answers. And if one thing was for sure.

You weren’t going to stop until you found them.

[rosymorning]

Good morning, everyone. This is a Sad Emotional Ranty post that has nothing to do with our beloved ship or the show it comes from, and I don’t want anyone to dive down the rabbit hole of Rosy’s Issues without their knowledge and consent. I’m also not sure if there’s anything below that ought to have a CW applied to it; there might be, and there are certainly messy feelings, and I don’t want anyone’s mental health to suffer because of me. Please feel free to back it up and head off to sunnier posts. 💜 Off we go then.

(Much more below...)

I need to be vague because I don’t want there to be any chance that who I am and where I work could be positively identified, so I apologize in advance. My job is very people-focused and requires an incredibly broad specialized knowledge and skills base, much of which is considered archaic and sometimes beyond the ability or ken of normies. Now, I love my job. It’s stupidly hard some days, especially as I am very much an introvert (and suspect I might have ADHD, but can’t confirm it right now and that’s a topic for another time), and I must interact with people a great deal, but I love it. It too me years to get here, and much of that time was spent submitting myself to work that was degrading and spiritually deadning and left me feeling like a hollow shell of a person.  But I made it at last, and life is so, SO much better now, it’s not even funny.  It’s my very first year at this job in my current, you’re-in-charge-of-everything-in-this-area form, and my first year in this location. Naturally, I have made about a billion mistakes, but honestly it’s all right; “if all you ever do is win, you never really get stronger,” and “perfection is what makes [progress] possible,” after all. HOWEVER.

On Friday, I was working with...let’s call this person a client, even though that’s not strictly accurate. A coworker came into my room to get something for a later professional event we were working together. He insisted that he could look for it on his own so I could work with the client. Okay, fine. Unfortunately, this translated to rifling through things on my desk a little and just sort of...hovering around. Meanwhile, the client was struggling with a particular complicated skill, and not getting anywhere. My brain was fried. It was 4:45 in the afternoon, I had met with 40 new people this week (that is not an exaggeration, it was literally 40 new potential clients in the space of 4 days), I was distracted by this man in my room digging around in my stuff, I haven’t been sleeping well, and I could not think of how to help her. So he turns around and says, “Do you mind if I step in?”

If you’ve made it this far, you deserve more backstory. When I was completing my final internship before licensure in this field, I worked with two people who did not think highly of me, any skills that I might have, my philosophy re: the discipline, or any number of other things. More than once they implied that I was a disgrace to the profession and it would be better for everyone if I just quit and did something else, that I was causing active harm by being there. (So far, they are the only ones who have said this to me, and my supervisors and other mentors have been wonderfully supportive and very pleased with my work.) So as my coworker is turning around and wresting this session from me in front of my client, all of this flashes through my head.

So of course I said yes. The most important thing is that the client receives the help to grow and master the skill, not my ego. No one’s life or health was in danger, either, so it shouldn’t have been a big deal. But I could just feel my shattered brain melt and everything in me tensed up and I just wanted to crawl into one of the spidery corners of my room and curl in a ball and sob. And in fewer than 6 hours, I will be at the professional event with him, the client, and several other clients, and a huge community group watching. And next week I will be working with all those clients again. And I feel disgusting, stupid, miserable, like a giant hack who doesn’t know what the hell she’s doing, like all those horrible things my internship mentors said about me might actually be true and I’ve just been deluding myself into thinking that I could be competent and effective. That I really am a disgrace and that the right, ethical, honorable thing to do would be to quit so that I’m no longer doing active harm to these people’s attempts at growing their skills. I have spent much of the last two days hating myself and my hubris. It’s been compounded by him sending me various resources that will no doubt help me improve, but that I didn’t ask for, and certainly not from him, and with no encouragement or reassurance whatsoever. All I can do is assume that this is a giant red flag that I am a waste of money and space, professionally speaking.

My wonderful, loving, supportive partner thinks this situation is nowhere near as dire as I’m afraid it is and has done their best to bolster my spirits and help me through. Meanwhile, wild scenarios that involve my coworker going to my bosses and telling them that I am not a competent professional, followed by me getting dragged into the office for a dressing-down and a “EXPLAIN YOURSELF YOU LIAR” keep running through my head. I just want to cry, but I don’t have time to do so, and the tears aren’t coming anyway. The only way out of this is through. And then the question is, what is the right thing to do? I want this career, I sweated and cried and bled and lost sleep and health and more years of my life than most people know to get here. But if I fail his hard at one simple thing, I don’t know what right I have to be here.

If you made it all the way down here, please accept my gratitude. I hope that your day was not made worse because of it. Please be kind and gentle to your inexperienced coworkers, and correct them somewhere in private (so long as there is no need to step in immediately for the sake of health and safety), and let them know while you do so that it’s going to be all right and they will be able to grow past this and it’s just a little thing that they can 100% fix. Please. Give a little light and warmth to the world today. Love and peace to you all. 💜

[salviaplarth]

Heya

I know, I know. It’s been about eight months since I’ve last posted an update. About time I post another one right?

I finally graduated from CSUF and received my degree in History. Am I making use of that degree? No, not at the moment. While I did apply to some jobs that were in relation to my degree, I didn’t hear back from any of them which was a bummer, but I wasn’t too upset about it.

I left my job at the restaurant, Sup Noodle Bar, because I was feeling unhappy working there due to how management treated me. It’s not that they treated me like shit, it was more like I was just nonexistent. Like they forgot that I’ve been there since day one. While I didn’t think I’d stay in contact with my coworkers, I actually have and we’ve all hung out with together every now and then. It’s great. 

I currently work full time inside of Disney California Adventure, specifically for Ghirardelli. So in actuality, I’m working for Ghirardelli, not Disney. Before you ask if I can sign you in, no I cannot due to being Disney affiliated. I personally love working there, the management and my coworkers are great. The job itself is simple, easy, and fairly stress free for the most part. Of course, it’s not a long term deal because I eventually do want to do something with my degree, but at the moment, working here temporarily is totally fine. I applied to be a supervisor and who would have thought, I actually got it. However, when I applied, I had barely been working there for four months and didn’t cross train into other areas within the store so was informed I’ll be promoted to supervisor come June after I’ve become more proficient in the other areas. It was a huge self esteem booster, especially since I applied for the lulz knowing damn well I wouldn’t get it because I was too new, but boy was I wrong. 

Speaking of that, one of my coworkers there is has basically become one of my best friends. His name is Omar. He’s four years younger than me, but pretty mature and thinks very logically. It’s a contrast to me who thinks more on feeling. He’s also hilarious and a mega weeaboo. Again, before you say anything, he’s just my friend. In fact, he’s gay so we’ve just got a strong platonic friendship going on, it’s really nice. It’s because of him and my other coworker, Perry, that my interest in anime returned. We’re actually attending a convention next Saturday, May 5th, and were all cosplaying characters from Bungou Stray Dog. I’m actually super excited about that!

Continuing off the coworker thing, I got a gym pass and Omar is my workout buddy. I’ve only gone once so far, but we plan to go pretty actively every week. Honestly, its another thing I’m excited about. It was actually fun working out, especially knowing that the result will be rewarding. I’m feeling the soreness and it’s great. 

I was dating someone for eight months and was broken up with in January so I’ve been flying solo. It’s been not too bad. Work really keeps me occupied because I work full time and they’re eight hour shifts. And when I’m not at work, I’m more than likely hanging out with my coworkers or my friends. While dating is cool, I do think it’d be hard to date someone at this time because of my work schedule. I usually work nights and reserve my mornings for sleeping. BUT, I do have this huge crush on a “coworker.” I use quotation marks because he doesn’t work for Ghirardelli, he works for Disney. I affectionately call him Boudin Boy because sometimes I’ll see him across the Ghirardelli store on the Boudin side, sweeping and all that. In actuality, he doesn’t work for Boudin, he works for Pacific Wharf, which is the name of the land all the restaurants are located in, including Ghirardelli. So he’ll be in different parts of that area. I initiated a conversation for the first time last week, but I was basically asking him if another guy name Earl was working that day. Earl is this older guy that I like to say hi to sometimes or we’ll talk about Vietnamese stuff because his fiancee is Viet. Boudin Boy told me he’ll keep an eye out and let me know. Well, when I went on my lunch with my coworker, Boudin Boy just so happened to be on his lunch too. He cut us off and walked in front of us to the cafeteria. I got my food first and sat down at a table and he ended up sitting at a table behind us. After our lunch ended, he walked back first, but I guess he went to the bathroom because as my coworker and I turned, we ended up crossing paths with him. I waved at him since we made eye contact and then he initiated a conversation with me and even introduced himself. Since then, I’ve been trying to interact with him as much as possible, but obviously its hard because we don’t actually work together so I don’t know his schedule and I don’t want to make it obvious that I have a crush on him haha.

Despite saying I’m it’d be hard to date at the moment, I did cave in for like three days and tried the whole Tinder/Okcupid thing again. It’s been awhile since I’ve used them, but I found it boring and quickly deleted the apps. However, as my luck would have it, on OKC, I matched with a guy who actually listened to my radio show during the spring of 2017. Turns out he’s friends with one of the people at the radio station. Also turns out, he had been following me on instagram for awhile now. I remember seeing him follow me and that we had a mutual friend, but when I looked at his instagram, he mainly just had memes. Well, now we’re talking. But we’re not actively talking. Like I don’t think we’re actually pursuing each other, we’re just talking just to talk and entertain one another. At least, thats how I see it. But my friend from the station who knows the guy did tell me that this guy is pretty shy. I thought that was cute to be honest.

In regards to my car, it was in a hit and run accident shortly after I started working for Ghirardelli. Unluckily, my car was parked while I was working my shift when it got hit. Luckily though, I was able to get a hold of the person’s insurance and everything worked out. I currently only have 1.5k left to finish paying off the car.

As soon as the car is paid off, I’ll be saving my money to move out. I’m planning on either renting a room, renting a studio, or if my friend stays true to her word, find a place with her. I’m not sure yet, it’s still a long ways away. But I know it’ll be for the better if I move out and live on my own, away from my family for a bit. I’m hoping to have my own place sometime during the summer.

My mental health has been not so bad. I think it’s thanks to work distracting me. This update ended up being really long and I feel there’s more I want to say but I don’t want to drag it on any further. 

Til next time.  

[bl6ckr0s3]

Fatigue

I been so tired all week. Even though I haven't been working as hard as I normally did before physically, I'm just finding myself passing out right after work when I get home. It's harder to stay awake behind the wheel when I have the baby since I don't want to be smoking around him. I smoke outside of my car now when I can and other times while I'm at work, I go outside to the back of the docks by the maintenance building to smoke. I'm not sure if it's the stress of Ricky that's been draining my energy. Normally, the weather doesn't drain me. Having the baby only 2 days out of the weekday does save me a lot of losing sleep. Early in the morning, the baby woke me up crying 2-3x because he was hungry and I was so damn tired, I was afraid of passing out on the baby when he was still awake. Thankfully, my son falls asleep about 5am and slept for the remainder of the morning. Wendy drove back home up north after I left to work last Monday. I had so much fun playing Pokemon with her Sunday evening and all through Monday. It's nice to be able to enjoy gaming with somebody else for once. I been a gamer all my life and what kids don't love games? That's where Ricky seems to fall in short with the gaming. He either never got into it, or he's just very competitive & don't want to deal witht he frustration of being hooked on a game. What does it matter? I'm having fun and enjoying myself again rather than allowing somebody else to try to change me for who I am or telling me what I should do for Lim. On the Talking Parents chat program, Ricky is still trying to have control over me by trying to give me instructions on how often to feed the baby solid food, the time schedules & all that bullshit. Wendy showed Paul his messages and he said I don't need to follow his instructions for anything. I have the right to raise my child my way. It's not like I dunno how to feed the baby, but I go by how the baby is comfortable with the amount of intake of food he consumes. I notice Ricky is the one messaging me a lot on the chat just as if he's texting me normally. Wendy is the one who checks and responds to the messages for me because she knows I get anxiety when he contacts me. Anything that has to do with dealing with Ricky, I get anxiety now because I dunno what he plans to do next to try to get me in trouble or make me look bad. I completely don't have no trust for him. He's basically just a threat to me.

Wendy has to remind me not to post anything that relates to him or even speak of him because I wouldn't want him to be able to use anything against me. It's not like he has much on me that would be effective, but still have to play it safe until the court bullshit is done. Everyone thinks I'm raising him just fine. I don't need anybody watching over my shoulder every minute and complaining about what I'm doing wrong or what I should do differently. Ricky is the one with OCD. Everything he's accused me of such as having anger issues, being the insecure one, being the one cheating, no everything he's accusing and saying about me, it's all him doing. He can go fuck himself. He doesn't own my life. This was the one thing he over estimated about me. He tried to control me, but got pissed that he can't. He got pissed when I decided to stop tolerating his bullshit. He got pissed when I called him the 'abuser'. The idiot has no logic because any evidence presented to him doesn't matter that it proves he's guilty. In his mind, he's never guilty of anything.

There's a co worker name Steven, an older black guy that just walks around the work place trying to talk to younger chicks. He whines & complains about stupid shit and a lot of people don't like him. I remember when he would start yelling about not being at his assignment by my old supervisor Archie, and this is during the safety meetings. Everytime he opened his mouth, I just wanted to say shut the fuck up to him. When you argue with the guy, he doesn't want to shut up, he just keeps running his mouth & continues to yell. Well, for the first time last night, I had to deal with him trying to start a fight with me over printing label tags. I was busy working on sorting the insects inside APPS1 machine, & in that area theres 2 printers. A printer to print regular labels and one to print small tags for the sack of mails. I was busy printing tags for David, the Vietnamese guy working on the 300 rack. I figure since I'm there working, I may as well try to get that done while I was sorting. I remember hearing yelling out in the background, I turned around and didn't see anybody so I went back to working. Out of nowhere, then I hear yelling again and Steve walks up near my work area and starts asking me about how long I'm gonna be printing the tags and that the printer is jammed. Basically, the man was like rushing me to hurry up so that he can print. Annoyed, I went to reload the printer with new paper tags so that I can continue printing. 2nd time Steve walks up to me yelling at me again and asking why I'm printing more tags, I yelled back at him and told him not to talk to me like that. I told him to ask nicely, but he continues to try to talk over me and yell at me and shit. I told him I didn't hear him ask me how long i'm gonna take with all his yelling, then I just basically told him if he's gonna whine and complain, i'll stop printing so that his ass can print his damn tags, and I called him a big baby. He called me crazy and he just walked away. I stopped printing so his stupid ass can print and stop bitching, but the stupid mother fucker just left lol! I wasn't gonna tolerate anybody's bullshit at work because of what I had been going through with Ricky. I kept Steve's photo that I took 2 years ago because he's one of the people I don't like at work. So I decided to message my friend at work Shiela who's actually friends with him. I told her she needs to tell her friend Steve that if he doesn't get his act together and start treating people nicely, I'm gonna make sure I will curse him so bad that his health will deteriate early and he will be forced to retire early. I can make him suffer if I really want to, I just left him alone because he seem to have kept his mouth shut for quite a long while. No, he had to open his mouth. Somebody has to teach him a lesson and how him you can't just be doing whatever the hell you want and get away with it.

[livinginlandmarketing]

Two weeks after scores of people of all races flooded downtown San Bernardino to protest police brutality and systemic racism in the wake of George Floyd‘s death, local school board President Gwen Dowdy-Rodgers and her colleagues did something new.

Representing more than 47,000 students, as well as administrators, teachers, staffers and parents on June 16, 2020, San Bernardino City Unified board members took turns reading portions of a resolution into the record.

The declaration?

That the county’s largest school district was “unequivocally” anti-racist, and that it condemns all acts of racism.

Now days before the nation marks the 36th annual Martin Luther King Jr. Day, Dowdy-Rodgers and other Southern California leaders and activists are reflecting on the connection between the late civil rights icon’s lasting call for social justice and the summer’s Black Lives Matter movement and subsequent efforts to change policy in the region.

From right, Gwen Dowdy-Rodgers, San Bernardino school board president, and board members Margaret Hill and Danny Tillman with the Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. statue at San Bernardino City Hall in San Bernardino on Thursday, January 14, 2021. (Photo by Terry Pierson, The Press-Enterprise/SCNG)

A reath was placed at the base of the Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. statue at San Bernardino City Hall in honor of Martin Luther King Jr. Day in San Bernardino on Thursday, January 14, 2021. (Photo by Terry Pierson, The Press-Enterprise/SCNG)

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Gwen Dowdy-Rodgers, San Bernardino school board president, center with board members Danny Tillman, left and Margaret Hill with the Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. statue at San Bernardino City Hall in San Bernardino on Thursday, January 14, 2021. (Photo by Terry Pierson, The Press-Enterprise/SCNG)

The statue of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. has a hole in his hand over his heart at San Bernardino City Hall in San Bernardino on Thursday, January 14, 2021. (Photo by Terry Pierson, The Press-Enterprise/SCNG)

Gwen Dowdy-Rodgers, San Bernardino school board president, center with board members Margaret Hill, left and Danny Tillman with the Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. statue at San Bernardino City Hall in San Bernardino on Thursday, January 14, 2021. (Photo by Terry Pierson, The Press-Enterprise/SCNG)

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‘Send a message’

Three days after she and her San Bernardino school board colleagues condemned all acts of racism, brutality, racial profiling and the excessive use of force by law enforcement, Dowdy-Rodgers was part of a contingent of community members to implore San Bernardino County leaders to take a similar stand.

“It was very important for us to send the message that we are very serious about raising social justice issues and equity issues,” Dowdy-Rodgers said, “because policy is something we can point to when things are not the way they should be.”

Having met twice previously with faith leaders, activists and members of the Black community, the Board of Supervisors on June 23 declared racism a public health crisis.

Soon after, cities across the region adopted similar resolutions acknowledging racism exists and condemning it outright, and educators began exploring expanded ethnic studies programs and measures to create inclusive learning environments.

Such actions are a direct result of the mass protests that spread nationally after the death of Floyd, a Black man who died in Minneapolis police custody after an officer knelt on his neck for 8 minutes and 46 seconds, said Darrin Johnson, an organizer with Black Lives Matter Inland Empire. But the 38-year-old said he will not be satisfied until concrete change – in schools, in government, in policing – is achieved.

“The protests showed that when pressure is put to government, (officials) will be forced to act,” Johnson said. “Unfortunately, as fall went through, our momentum was lost and I feel politicians were less compelled to take those kinds of actions.

“I feel like the people we have now in positions of power, especially career politicians, are too used to playing political games,” Johnson added. “That’s how they stay in power and continue to do the things they do. They throw us a crumb and are convinced they’re doing stuff for us.

“We need to hold everyone’s feet to the fire to keep this momentum going.”

Linking generations

As Dowdy-Rodgers reflects on summer 2020, what makes her most proud of the Black Lives Matter movement and subsequent policy discussions and changes is the bond now established between those with first-hand memories of King and those who’ve come to admire him through textbooks, biographies and iconic video clips.

“We are connecting the generations that had been disconnected,” Dowdy-Rodgers said. “Those who were part of or close to that time when civil rights was just coming to the forefront and those marching and fighting got us to where we are today. Now, we’re handing the baton over to this generation, this young generation, and saying ‘We want to support you.’”

Activist Kayla Booker, 26, is a small business owner and founder of The B.L.A.C.K. Collective, supporting black businesses and creators in the Inland Empire. (Photo courtesy of Kayla Booker)

Kayla Booker, a college student activist in Riverside, said King’s work and legacy have emboldened younger generations, decades later, to stand up in today’s social and political climates.

The 26-year-old who participated in a number of demonstrations and rallies in Riverside and across the Inland Empire said more young people of color need to be involved in their local communities and in leadership roles.

“Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter,” Booker said, paraphrasing King’s 1965 sermon in Selma, Alabama. “If we’re not sitting at the table, then who is hearing our voices and concerns?”

Resilience, Booker said, is something she learned from King. She is president and founder of The B.L.A.C.K. Collective, a group of young Black leaders in Riverside working to uplift the area through events, community involvement, mentorship and entrepreneurship.

“We’re tired of not being heard, of feeling alone,” Booker said. “We’re the only African American group (in this area), run by youth, and no one has reached out to us about our concerns. Not the mayor or sheriff. They want to go out and take pictures with us, but they don’t ask us how we can help, what we can do, to really make a difference.

“At some point, you’re going to hear us.”

With help from three friends, Sage Hill School graduate Jackie Ni built SupplyCrate.org, an online nexus for procuring and distributing PPE (more than 375,000 pieces). Then came BLMsupplycrate.org, to facilitate requests and donations to organizers and activists involved in social justice protests. (Photo by Jeff Gritchen, Orange County Register/SCNG)

With college campuses offering only virtual classes this fall due to the ongoing coronavirus pandemic, Sage Hill High School graduate Jackie Ni decided to postpone his freshman year of college to spend his free time addressing economic and social justice issues.

At first, that meant organizing other teens to secure thousands of pieces of personal protective equipment, or PPE, for health care workers at the onset of the pandemic. But after Floyd’s death, Ni pivoted to supporting Black Lives Matter organizers.

As a result, the Irvine teen formed the nonprofit BLMsupplycrate.org.

By the end of September, the group had raised a few thousand dollars to help pay for such necessities as permit fees and supplies of water, along with shipping more than 3,000 protective masks to protesters in California, New York and parts of the Midwest.

Ni’s support of the Black Lives Matter movement segued into forming a youth-led political action committee, called MemePAC, with three Orange County friends his age — Theodore Horn, Jason Yu and Vera Kong. In school, the 18-year-old had learned of King and the civil rights movement; but his own research this past year led to a deeper understanding of the economic equality King sought the last years of his life.

Ni, who plans to study public policy or political science in college, and perhaps run for office someday, sees King’s legacy in the passion and dedication that he and other young people show for systemic change.

“It definitely carries on what Martin Luther King set out to do, tackling issues in a logical way, in a peaceful way.”

Miranda Sheffield, 35, is a cultural arts commissioner in Pomona. (Courtesy of Miranda Sheffield)

‘We have to work’

On the heels of a nationwide call for social change, King’s message echoes louder than ever before, said Miranda Sheffield, a cultural arts commissioner in Pomona who helped organize demonstrations there over the summer.

“With everything that happened at the protests and the (Jan. 6) riot at the (U.S.) Capitol,” Sheffield said, “we need to listen to King’s words and demand change.”

New 5th Ward San Bernardino City Councilman Ben Reynoso is sworn in at San Bernardino City Hall on Wednesday, Dec. 16, 2020. (Photo by Cindy Yamanaka, The Press-Enterprise/SCNG)

San Bernardino City Councilman Ben Reynoso, who was in Mississippi with family when protesters began marching in communities across the nation following Floyd’s death, said he understood why so many felt compelled to unite.

“There’d been multiple times in my life when I’ve seen Black and brown people killed at the hands of police, or die in police custody,” said Reynoso. “When I was with family, I was reaching for understanding as an individual. For me, I had to be out near my mother and surrounded by people who understood and could express their emotions.

“What you saw this summer,” he added, “was a collection of people who couldn’t express their emotions in silence. They needed to express it publicly.”

The summer’s activism has a direct link to the civil rights movement King spearheaded in the 1950s and ’60s, Reynoso said.

“Martin Luther King understood narrative,” he said. “That’s why he was willing, and the young organizers around him were willing, to do things like sit in diners where people of color weren’t allowed, to be beat up on live TV. Because they knew America and the world wouldn’t understand what they were going through without seeing it.

Naomi Rainey-Pierson, the longtime president of Long Beach’s chapter of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People, said she applauds the work that younger people have been doing this past year, but added that protests alone won’t bring change.

“We have to not just stand up and scream, shout, holler and march when there is an outcry,” she said. “We have to continually march, we have to continually stand up, we have to continue using our voice. We have to stop pitting one group against the other.

“We have to work for equality and justice.”

In this file photo, Naomi Rainey-Pierson receives her honorary doctoral degree at Cal Sate Long Beach at the commencement for College of Liberal Arts on Wednesday, May 22, 2019. (Photo courtesy of Sean DuFrene, photographer for Cal State Long Beach)

Rainey-Pierson, a Black woman who grew up going to segregated schools in Mississippi, said injustice and inequality is nothing new, but that in order to follow King’s visions and goals, people must come together.

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“I commend all of the young people, of all colors and hues, marching, speaking, fighting and reaching out,” she said. “But we have to speak collectively for all: not just one race, not just one gender, but it has to be for all mankind because there’s an old saying, ‘For whom the bell tolls, it tolls for thee.’

That, Rainey-Pierson said, is what Martin Luther King stood for.

-on January 15, 2021 at 01:35PM by Brian Whitehead, Allyson Escobar, Emily Rasmussen, Javier Rojas, Theresa Walker

[96thdayofrage]

In September the Reader was alerted to two complaints, one filed with the city's Commission on Human Relations and the other with the Illinois Department of Human Rights, detailing discrimination and racist statements made by high-level managers at Pangea, one of Chicago's biggest corporate landlords. Until the start of the coronavirus pandemic, the company was the city's most prolific filer of eviction cases. Its apartment holdings are concentrated largely in Black neighborhoods on the south and west sides of the city and in nearby suburbs, now totaling 9,400 units in 492 buildings. The company also has several thousand more units in Indianapolis and Baltimore.

The complaints were filed by Armando Magana, 45, the chief maintenance supervisor at Pangea in Chicago who'd been with the company since 2010. He's worked in various roles and received promotions and bonuses, most recently in February, Magana writes. "Notwithstanding my exceptional performance, Pangea has repeatedly discriminated against me because of my Hispanic ethnicity and my Mexican national origin. Throughout my employment, Pangea has also subjected me to a hostile work environment based on numerous derisive and derogatory statements made by Pangea's managers and executives regarding my ethnicity and national origin."

Magana's complaint includes several examples of such statements from vice president of operations Derek Reich and CEO Pete Martay. He claims that in 2017 Reich "told me that I should avoid being seen working with an African-American work colleague if I did not want to be viewed in the same way as that 'lazy nigger.'"

Magana details two occasions in 2018 when Reich "suggested hiring 'illegals' because they will accept less compensation," and resisted Magana's recommendations for which employees should get raises, allegedly saying, "'aren't these guys illegal?'"

Further in the complaints he recounts a 2019 meeting in which management for a newly acquired building near Loyola University on the north side was allegedly discussed. "My African American colleague asked, 'who will be managing the building,' to which Mr. Reich responded, 'they've never seen a Regional Manager of your kind in that area.' I asked about getting access to the roof top, to which Mr. Martay stated, 'Yeah I can imagine Armando showing up with his trash can and saying "Hello I'm Armando, the janitor here to clean up after you."'"

Later that year, Magana alleges he "met with Mr. Reich at a property that Pangea had recently begun to manage. During a discussion regarding employee staff assignments, Mr. Reich remarked that 'Mexicans are for custodial and maintenance, Blacks for property management, and Whites for the back office, that's it.'" The following month Magana alleges that Martay said to him, in front of other employees, "I should make you pull your fucking tools back out and make you clean shit out of the fucking tubs, like you used to."

Magana writes that he reported Martay's "derogatory comments" to Reich and both supervisors' comments to Pangea's HR manager Lori Bysong as well as the company's CFO Patrick Borchard and cofounder and former CEO Steve Joung. "Mr. Joung listened to me, then responded by saying that he doubted workplace discrimination was occurring."

Magana claims in the complaint that at the end of 2019 he also had a conversation with Pangea's operations manager Sean McQuade about hiring and pay for new workers, requesting $22/hour for one of them. "Mr. McQuade responded by asking 'Do you know if he's illegal? Do you think he has papers? . . . Do you think this guy is worth $22/hour?'" Again, Magana claims he reported these comments to HR, Pangea's in-house attorney Jennifer Dean, and other supervisors.

"Despite having complained on multiple occasions directly to multiple members of Pangea management, no one at the Company ever responded to, investigated, or otherwise communicated with me regarding my several complaints," Magana writes. "Rather, Mr. Reich continues to make derogatory, discriminatory comments toward me. Specifically, on May 12, 2020, Mr. Reich called me and stated, 'stop treating me like a shine. Last time I checked I was white.'"

In both an internal e-mail obtained by the Reader and in an e-mailed statement from CEO Pete Martay, Pangea has denied Magana's allegations and said he's refused to cooperate in the company's internal efforts to investigate.

"Pangea Properties has zero tolerance for racist or discriminatory behavior," Martay wrote to the Reader. "We take allegations of this nature very seriously. As a result, we hired a neutral investigator to carry out a prompt and thorough investigation and have also engaged legal representation to defend the company against allegations we believe are baseless. The complainant and his witnesses have refused multiple requests to participate in our investigation."

The Reader also presented the company with an opportunity to respond to additional allegations made by ten other current and former employees about Pangea's corporate culture. These included vivid descriptions of demeaning statements by Reich and other supervisors, as well as allegations of segregated and demeaning working conditions. "We categorically deny the claims in the complaint and also the statements made against us by former employees," wrote Martay. Neither Reich nor McQuade, whose conduct Magana also referenced in his complaint, responded to a request for comment.

Hostile work environments are both ubiquitous and difficult to reform. Their toxicity can be hard to pin down and prove on paper, especially when corporate promotions and official praise are interspersed with interpersonal disrespect and disregard. As a reckoning over the prejudices endemic to white-dominated workplaces roils the private and public sectors, employees of color from businesses and institutions as varied as Adidas, LinkedIn, Vogue, the San Francisco health department, and Loyola University have begun speaking out about the racial microaggressions, gaslighting, and harassment that defines office culture for them.

Even as he received glowing performance reviews, Magana could also feel hostility from management. For example, in an August 2013 e-mail obtained by the Reader, Reich wrote a brief note to another regional manager. The subject line read, "Armando was excited about converting to Islam . . . " and inside the body of the e-mail the sentence ended " . . . Until he found out you can't eat pork." Attached was a photo of Magana, grinning, in a little white hat reminiscent of a kufi skull cap.

When asked about the e-mail Magana said he was dismayed at being the target of a crude joke that appeared to be both Islamophobic and about his weight. "I never thought he was gonna take a picture and send it," he said with a grim chuckle as we looked at the image over beers at the nearly deserted patio of the Promontory in Hyde Park. Magana wore a black valve mask and a short sleeve blue polo, apparently unbothered by the biting gusts of wind on that late September afternoon. As he stared at the photo he said the fact that it had been e-mailed was unusual; in his experience Reich rarely left a paper trail of demeaning comments. "It was always phone calls with Derek," Magana said. "He really doesn't like to put anything in e-mail. If you send him an e-mail, he'll call. If you meet him in the field, he'll make those comments."

As documented in his complaints, Magana attempted to have the "discriminatory communications and behavior" he experienced addressed internally, but complaints to HR and leaders of the company didn't help. Finally he started working with attorney Marc Siegel to appeal to external authorities to intervene. The company soon also hired an outside attorney to help handle the situation.

Pangea's lawyers "kept telling [Siegel] that I was exaggerating and they always treated me good and they weren't being racist toward me," Magana told the Reader. "Long story short, I told my attorney I'm not gonna play this game, I'm gonna file this with the state and city and I'm gonna make it public."

By late spring the stress of working at Pangea had intensified due to the coronavirus pandemic. "I broke down because when the COVID started Derek was just calling me every other day, every other day: 'What are you doing?' I'd say 'We're working . . . but we don't have any sanitizing supplies. We don't have masks.'"

Magana said Pangea didn't offer hazard pay. Some field employees took time off because they were scared to go back into the apartment buildings, especially when word got around that tenants were falling ill. Magana says Reich didn't seem to care. "It was like, 'All these guys need to come back to work.' I'm like, 'Derek we're all working, there's some people who took off because they're scared.'"

Magana said that Reich demanded that he choose five of his staff to fire as part of a company effort to reduce the employee headcount to below 500 so that Pangea could qualify for a Paycheck Protection Program loan from the federal government.

He said that in late March Reich called him. "He says, 'You got any shitty people working for you? Give me five.' I'm like, 'I don't have any shitty people working for me.' He's like, 'Well, give me five.'"

The Reader obtained an e-mail Magana sent to Reich the next day, listing four employees who changed positions in the company without being replaced and one who was about to leave Pangea anyway. "There's your four plus one, he's already out the door," Magana recalled thinking. He said that after that he got another phone call from Reich who demanded he name five additional people to fire because Pangea's employee count was at 512.

Magana said he submitted another list of names. "I was destroyed about that," he said. According to records released by the Small Business Administration in July, Pangea was awarded a $5-$10 million loan through the PPP program. They listed an employee count of 494.

By June, Magana needed a break. The stress of the job was getting to him and affecting his family, and he took a leave of absence for a month and a half. "I got kind of depressed, stressed out, I was trying to take care of my health," he said. "I found out my son was depressed, so I had to dedicate myself to him."

Magana said things got worse for him at Pangea after he came back to work in July. There were sudden extra meetings where he was questioned about his work. He felt increasingly micromanaged.

Nevertheless, Magana was still determined to continue working at the company, where he was making $115,000 in salary, got bonuses, and to which he'd devoted a decade of his life. "I'm happy where I'm at, I'm good at what I do, I've done nothing wrong," he said.

Word about Magana's complaint began to get out at Pangea, and e-mails from pseudonymised accounts suddenly appeared in all field employees' inboxes, sharing Magana's complaints and encouraging them to file their own. The company quickly deleted these e-mails from employees' inboxes, however. In a September 30 e-mail to all field employees obtained by the Reader, Martay acknowledged that deletion, adding that the "current employee" who complained about mistreatment "refused to cooperate and will not speak to the independent investigator" Pangea hired to look into the allegations. Though Martay didn't refer to Magana by name in this e-mail, Magana says he felt the CEO's message was meant to undermine him. "We categorically deny the claims made in the complaint and have engaged legal representation to defend the company against them," Martay wrote.

By the beginning of October, Magana felt he could no longer remain at Pangea. "I cannot continue to work under hostile environment with retaliation," he wrote to me in a text message. Though he technically resigned from his job himself, his attorney argues that he was "constructively discharged" by management because of the "discrimination and harassment and retaliation he faced at work."

According to legal precedent established by the U.S. Supreme Court in the 2006 Burlington Northern & Santa Fe Railway Co. v. White decision, the definition of retaliation for complaints about workplace discrimination is broad. "It could be making your work life more difficult. It could be micromanaging you. It could be icing you out—anything that could make a reasonable person feel dissuaded from bringing a complaint," said Siegel. "It doesn't have to be a termination or written suspension."