#WWFF

[n2qfd]

SST (Slow Speed Test) was good last night. 40 m was actually a really productive choice of band after what feels like a few weeks of solar activity, unsettling everything.

Worked five stations, but only two of them were actually part of the slow speed test. Turns out the flying pigs QRP club was doing a thing as well as a guy calling CQ WWFF which was new to me, worldwide, Flora and Fauna. 

Figured out the non-club call for the flying pigs so they could at least get the points for the QSO and got the floor and fauna guy in the log. 

I copied today's #Morsle at 40 WPM! https://morsle.fun it’s a classy one today.

[ailendolin]

Whump Wednesday - 55 - BBC Ghosts

Title: Weaving Baskets [AO3]

Characters: Humphrey, The Captain, Thomas, Mary and Annie

Prompt: A story about Humphrey finding out about Mary and mourning her loss. - Prompt sent in by the lovely @bitchytidalwavebouquetworld-blog

A/N: This was both incredibly difficult and cathartic to write, to be honest. I've dealt with a huge personal loss this year so writing about grief now hits a little closer to home than it would have before. Because of that, I'm not quite sure I managed to do your prompt and Humphrey justice but I hope you enjoy your fic anyway!

Prompts are open, so if you want me to write a story for you as well just send me an ask with the fandom, characters and your prompt. I’m writing for Ghosts, Yonderland, Horrible Histories and Bill at the moment.

Six Idiots Whump Wednesday / Fluff Friday masterlist is here.

————

Weaving Baskets

“Humphrey. Now, I’m afraid I have some rather sad news.”

Humphrey did not know what exactly he’d expected to come after that statement – a report of his body having had yet another tryst without his knowledge, perhaps? – but it certainly hadn’t been this.

“Oh,” he said softly as the Captain’s words sank in. In his mind, he saw a light, surprised faces, a brief moment of peace – and then nothing. Nothing but grief.

It was unbelievable; unfathomable. “When – when did it happen?”

The Captain cleared his throat. “Earlier today. There was no warning. The light just appeared above her and then she was … then she was gone. Just like that.”

He bowed his head and looked away, still in shock even though he’d had a whole day to come to terms with what had happened – a whole day that Humphrey had spent outside, completely unaware that a part of his world had been missing for hours and would never return. Anger mixed with desperation, shock and grief and clawed its way up his throat. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

The Captain’s eyes flicked up to meet his. They were shining with shame and guilt when he admitted, “To be honest? It didn’t even cross my mind. I – that is, we – were so caught up in the moment, so … so lost that there was no room for anything but her.” He cleared his throat once more before he straightened his back. “I know that doesn’t make it right, and I am sorry we forgot about you, Humphrey. So very sorry. You should have been with us at the memorial.”

“Memorial?” Humphrey echoed, feeling a pit open up in his stomach – wherever it and the rest of his body were right now.

The Captain nodded tightly. “Yes, well – it was Alison’s idea, really. And Thorne – Thomas, I should say – came up with quite the lovely way of commemorating Mary, believe it or not.”

Humphrey listened in silence as the Captain told him about all the things Alison had gathered in Mary’s memory and found himself desperately wishing that he had been there, that just this once the others would have remembered to bring him along. Still, when the Captain mentioned the basket he couldn’t help the wet chuckle that escaped him.

“Five potatoes high,” they said in unison. Their eyes met. “She never said how large the potatoes had to be, did she?”

The Captain shook his head. “And we never asked.”

Humphrey sighed heavily. “No, we did not.”

There was a beat of silence before the Captain hung his head and admitted in a broken voice, “I shall miss her, Humphrey. Very much.”

Humphrey’s face softened. “I think we all will, mate.”

The Captain nodded in defeat and squeezed his eyes shut. For several long seconds, he stood perfectly still before he sucked in a shuddering, heart-breaking breath.

“Do you mind if I sat you down?” he managed to choke out, pointing at the sofa. “I … I think I need a moment alone.”

He looked so genuinely apologetic for being overwhelmed by his grief that Humphrey didn’t have the heart to tell him no even though the last thing he wanted right now was to be alone.

“Of course not. Just put me upright against the – yes, thank you.”

He watched the Captain stiffly turn around and walk out of the room, his shoulders a little more hunched and his pace a little less brisk than it usually was as if he was weighed down by his grief. Humphrey wondered if he’d look the same were his head attached to his body right now or just lost and empty. His thoughts instinctively shied away from the pain of Mary’s loss and he had to force them right into the centre of his grief just so he would feel something apart from this hollow numbness that had taken up residence inside his heart the moment the Captain had broken the news to him.

His heart.

Humphrey closed his eyes in regret.

Mary had once told him that his body, “be that bit that hath the heart.” While he’d understood what she was trying to say at the time he couldn’t say he had actually believed her words. Now he would give anything for her to have been right because it would mean he wouldn’t have to feel his heart breaking into a hundred jagged pieces right now as centuries worth of memories flashed through his mind. They reminded him of the sunlight in Mary’s eyes when she smiled, the nervousness in her hands when she fiddled with her apron and the clear sound of her voice every time she laughed and called him head bit.

Humphrey had always hated that nickname, if one could even call it that. But now? Now he desperately wished he could hear her say it one last time.

To his surprise, he felt tears well up in his eyes. He couldn’t even remember the last time he had cried. It must have been when–

Humphrey felt his throat close up.

Annie.

By some stroke of luck, he had been present when Mary came back alone from her walk that day and told the others what had happened. She’d looked at them for a long moment afterwards, her eyes sadder than Humphrey had ever seen them, before she’d given a little shrug and turned away as if it didn’t matter, as if she hadn’t just lost the best friend she ever had. Humphrey had grieved more for her loss that day than his own, and it was perhaps for that reason that losing Mary hit him so much harder now: because this time, he was grieving his for himself.

He didn’t even get the chance to say goodbye.

Feeling a sob claw its way up his throat, Humphrey pressed his lips as tightly together as he could. The room suddenly felt too large, too empty. Would anyone even notice if the light took him now? Would they miss him? Would they mourn him?

He sucked in a trembling breath. Where was his body when he needed it? He couldn’t stay here, on his own. Not now, not when–

“Humphrey,” he heard a soft voice say in surprise. Humphrey opened his eyes to see Thomas standing over him, his face unusually sombre. “What are you doing here? I thought you were with the Captain.”

He looked around the room with a frown. Humphrey couldn’t tell if he was angry or worried. A bit of both, perhaps.

“He needed a moment,” he said at last.

“I see,” Thomas said with a sigh. He briefly glanced at the door the Captain had left through before his eyes met Humphrey’s again. “Would you like me to take you with me or would you prefer to be alone?”

No, Humphrey thought desperately. Anything but that.

“I’d like some company if you don’t mind,” he said softly.

With a small smile and a nod, Thomas picked him up. His hands were gentle upon Humphrey’s face, careful in a way they’d never been before, and it was that gentleness that proved to be too much.

“Oh Humphrey,” Thomas whispered as the tears Humphrey had managed to kept at bay so far finally welled over. Humphrey sniffed but didn’t try to stop them. What good would it do anyway? Thomas knew exactly how he felt and would not mock him for grieving – of that, if little else, Humphrey was sure in that moment. So he let his tears fall, let Thomas brush them away with his thumb and dab them dry with his sleeve until no more would come and the storm inside him became a distant rumbling.

“Feel better?” Thomas asked, keeping his voice just as gentle as his touches.

Humphrey looked up at him. “Not really. Just tired.”

“Maybe this will help,” Thomas said. Instead of explaining, he wordlessly ascended the stairs and went to his sighing place where he curled up by the window and angled Humphrey’s head so he could look up at the sky.

“We picked a star for her,” Thomas said quietly, his voice hushed and almost reverent. He pointed at the stars. “See that one? The one that twinkles? That’s Mary.”

Blinking against a fresh wave of tears, Humphrey gazed up at the sky. It was breathtakingly clear, and just like Thomas had said there was one star that seemed to twinkle a little more brightly and merrier than the others.

“Annie is right beside her,” Thomas added softly.

The grief that had seemed so unbearable only a moment ago suddenly mellowed into something softer and gentler as Humphrey looked up at the two stars that twinkled side by side in the sky just like they had as ghosts. For the first time since the Captain had picked him up earlier, he found it easy to breathe.

“Mary would like that.”

Thomas nodded, still looking at the sky. “Yes, I think she would. I hope they’re happy wherever they are.”

They fell silent as they continued gazing at the stars. Neither of them said anything when the Captain joined them by the window, nor when the others, Humphrey’s body included, found their way to it as well. Thomas simply shifted a little to make room for them before he returned his gaze to the heavens again, to Mary and Annie and all the other bright souls that made up the universe above them.

It was only when the sun began to tint the horizon in beautiful yellows and oranges that he broke the silence. “A new day dawns.”

The Captain softly cleared his throat before he mimicked holding a glass. “To Mary.”

“To Mary,” they echoed.

Humphrey expected everyone to leave and shuffle off to bed then but to his surprise no one moved. They fell asleep right where they were, leaning on each other in more ways than one, and Humphrey’s heart, beating just somewhere to his left, felt full despite missing the part that Mary had taken up to the stars with her.

His eyes met Thomas’s in the gentle morning light and something soft and silent passed between them. One of Thomas’s hands settled on Humphrey’s head, gently resting there, and Humphrey allowed his tired eyes to fall close.

Cradled in the midst of his family, he fell asleep and dreamed of blues and yellows and weaving baskets five potatoes high.

[andiinaraethtash]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 🌼

Okay, so just to clarify, these are only of the ones I've published, because otherwise I will take forever just figuring out the top ten, nevermind the top five. I will be explaining some of my reasoning, and if you want to know why fic xyz didn't make the list, feel free to ask. I crave interaction.

So.

What We're Fighting For. The second in the Young Enough to Try series, I feel like this one had the best character growth, not to mention the most of one of my favorite OCs, Charger. It also had some of the best bait-and-switch moments that I loved seeing y'all's reactions to.

Can't Escape the Fallout. Also the second in a series (I Believe That There Is Courage), this is currently unfinished (though I will finish it, come hell or highwater), and it's just. So angsty, and while the fandom is a bit niche, it also has some really good fans and I've made more than a few friends through that. Also I just feel like I did better with both the writing style and plot lines for individual characters. It's far from perfect, but I love it.

Before Something Breaks That Cannot Be Fixed. The first in the 'I Believe That There Is Courage' series, it also, in my opinion, had a really good story line, lots of angst, and of course, character development. I also feel like I handled some of the characters (namely, Gem) better than in the second installment, but I feel like I also neglected other characters.

I See It in Your Closed Eyes. This, like #2, is also unfinished, and it also is part of a series. However, it's the first part of the series, the rest of which is mostly planned but not at all published. Coincidentally, it's also the first fanfic I wrote for the Star Wars fandom, and the first one that I wrote with the intention to publish it. It has a lot of sentimental value for me, and I can't wait to share it with y'all

A Second Chance to Make Amends. The spin-off of #1, it takes place in the same universe, just things happen differently than in the original version. What's great about it is that all of my readers thought this was what was going to happen when I first published WWFF, and then I pulled a bait-and-switch, which, in my opinion was just as satisfying, though for different reasons. Anyway, it's great and I love it and if you've read the main canon series, definitely give this a read, it's worth it.

So, to address something that y'all might notice, there's only one of the three non-spin-off parts of the YETT series, which is statistically the most popular of my various published projects. That's because this is my favorite of my projects, and I have... issues... with the way I handled some things in the first and third parts of the series. So. If YETT #1 or #3 is your favorite, cool! I'm glad you like it. But they're not my favorite. I'm glad I wrote 'em, obviously, but if I had the time, energy, and otherwise general wherewithal to rewrite it, I almost definitely would.

Also I wish I could list my top like. Seven because I've neglected a couple of my projects that I love, but aren't in the top five because others have more sentimental value or just generally are better.

[richardredhawk]

I´m back ! Why I was gone and WWFF activation

[g4ljw-amateur-radio]

Amateur Radio Newsline Report 2397 for Friday October 6th, 2023

- REPEATER RESTORATION PROJECT A SUCCESS IN WISCONSIN - MEMORIAL EVENT HONORS SERBIAN PIONEER OF WWFF ACTIVATION - MILITARY AUXILIARY OPS PREPARE TO MARK 75th ANNIVERSARY - AT AGE 10, NEW AMATEUR TAKES UP REINS ON WEEKLY NET - "DREAM RIG" ESSAY CONTEST CHALLENGES YOUNG AMATEURS - SOFTWARE UPGRADE IN THE WORKS FOR MULTIMODE DIGITAL VOICE PROJECT - YL CW NET RESUMES ON 40M - ACMA RELEASES NEW FIVE-YEAR SPECTRUM OUTLOOK - FCC FINES US SATELLITE TV COMPANY FOR "SPACE JUNK" - WORLD OF DX - KICKER: NOT BOGGED DOWN BY SOTA TRIP TO SCOTTISH ISLANDS SCRIPT AUDIO http://dlvr.it/Sx3Y4s

[qsotodaypodcast]

Episode 433 Paul Simmonds VK5PAS

Paul Simmonds, VK5PAS, now a retired South Australia Police detective, is a relatively new ham, along with his wife, Marija, VK5MAZ. They have taken the hobby to new heights by operating in the great outdoors of South Australia, participating in  WWFF, SOTA, POTA, and other outdoor amateur radio operating events.  He collects certificates, QSL cards, and new friends, around the World, in pursuit of amateur radio.  VK5PAS is my QSO Today.

Check out this episode!

[fallout4treasures]

What’s Worth Fighting For - Ch 1

“Then why are you going?” Ellie asked, standing and following me as I headed towards the door.

“I need his help. And he’s not doing anyone any good gone.”

“You must be pretty desperate. It’s not often Nick can’t save himself.”

“As a matter of fact, I am.”

Wayfaring Stranger - Johnny Cash

You’re looking for a man. He can help you. But he ain’t gonna be the man you expect. I’m ashamed to say my fear and rage was leading me back then. Giving an old lady chems seemed so small compared to what I was looking for. Her visions were all I had to go on, and nothing was more important than finding Shaun. I’ve tried to make myself regret it, to let the guilt weigh on me, but I can’t. It led me to the truth. More importantly, it led me to Nick.

I always thought this story started in the Vault. With the death of my old self, and everything I knew. Watching my world, along with the people in it, disappear in a blink of an eye had sparked enough vengeance in me to fuel a war. It should have been enough to be the main plot. Not that it was small, but I guess I’m a sucker for a nice guy with a broken soul. Either way, it turns out this story actually starts at the ballpark. But you should know before you start, in case you hadn't picked up on it already, this was never supposed to be a love story.

The crash of glass filled my ears, pulling me from my deep sleep and sending me sitting straight up. I grabbed my gun from the nightstand and had it readied on the door, taking short and shallow breaths as my brain caught up to my actions. My heart thumped in my ears, with sweat already building at my brow. The shatter was followed by boisterous yelling coated in accents too thick and angry for me to decipher through the wall, but from what I could tell it was only the innkeeper brothers quarrelling.

The air I was holding in my lungs released as did the tension in myself. I let the firearm lay in my lap as I held my face in my hands, counting the seconds as my breathing brought my pulse back down to a regular rate.

I was still grateful the shock woke me. The images from my nightmares were quickly blurring together to the point that they were unrecognizable. If I had to experience them while I slept, at least I couldn’t remember them when I woke up.

My shoulders refused to relax as I rolled out of bed. In fact, my whole body ached from my journey the night before. I should have taken the nearly day’s walk from Sanctuary to Boston more seriously. But it wasn’t the first time I did something stupidly impulsive for the sake of the mission. Certainly wouldn’t be the last.

Ready to leave the musty smell of my rented room behind me, I hoisted my leather armor over my shoulders and fumbled with the buckles as my sweaty fingers continued to tremble. It must have taken me five full minutes to get everything strapped on. And once it was I started to sweat even more, the leather feeling as if it was constricting around me.

Everything about this world, and the anxieties it stirred in me, felt so foreign. It had only been a handful of days since I had unfroze, yet it felt like I had lived weeks in this wasteland already. Time had its own mind here, with every moment full of either danger or needed rest. There was no telling how it would move next.

My days used to start so slow and sweet. Usually with Nate’s warm voice telling me that Shaun was crying. He’d bring him in from the nursery and we’d snuggle around him in bed. Just staring as our son babbled and cooed at us. Listening to the radio, sipping at the coffee on the nightstand. The sun would start to rise and we’d get up with it.

I wish I had wanted it more then. I wish we had begged the sun to stay low just a bit longer. To keep the moment stretched on, and our son beside us. Even if just for a little while. Safe, warm, perfect.

The bittersweet memories stung my chest, causing tears to well up. I quickly pushed them out of my head, but was still left a tired, jittery mess. Unfortunately, this was my morning routine. Battling the visions mixed from the past, present, and my nightmares. At this point, it seemed only one thing could calm my nerves.

“Ah, Viv! Our newest patron. You finally woke up.” The bartender bellowed out with a laugh the moment he saw me dragging myself from the hall of rooms to the bar.

“Good morning, Vadim.” I offered him half a smile as my arms fell to the counter.

“I am sorry about the fighting. My brother and I don’t always see eye to eye… Eh, are you okay? You're as white as a sheet.”

“I’m fine.” I waved him off before pressing my eyes into my palms. “Just looking for something strong.”

“No problem, what’s your drink?”

“Bourbon.” With a stiff nod he grabbed the shot glass from underneath the bar and the liquor with it. The quiet splash of brown liquid made crave the drink even more. I snatched it from its surface and threw it back without bothering to taste it. My face twisted as it burned the whole way down, but the warmth quickly took over and calmed my nerves. “Thanks.” I pulled out the small bunch of caps I had in my front pocket and counted out the payment, plus a couple extra for him.

“Will you be back tonight?” Vadim asked, pocketing the caps.

“Depends on how my day goes.” I gave him a short wave before leaving the grimey, makeshift inn.

The Diamond City I was walking through that morning was much different than the night before. It reminded me of the last ball game we went to. It was right before Shaun was born and Nate surprised me with tickets right behind home plate. Not too far from where I was standing actually, just two hundred years earlier. Who knew a baseball field was big enough for a whole city? If you could call it a city. Smashing a few dozen or so metal shacks inside a ballpark wouldn’t have fit my qualifications before we went under. But so far this was the closest thing I had seen that felt like home. The houses and businesses formed a bull’s eye around the stadium with the Power Noodles bar dotting the center. The Dugout Inn where I was staying was tucked away in an alley towards the city gates and to start exploring I ventured back toward where I had started last night.

“Read all about it! Institute replaces people with machines! Are you next?” A young girl with short, wriley, dark hair announced from her podium. “Hey lady!" Her short arms wildly waved me over, her long skirt flouncing a bit around her pants as she bounced. "You're new, right? All newcomers get their first issue free." She extended the flyer out to me.

"How could you tell?"

"My sister told me to look out for a doe eyed misfit.”

“I am not doe eyed.” I huffed, taking the flyer. I made a face at the girl as she smirked at me. “I’m guessing you’re Piper’s little sister?”

“Most people call me Nat.”

"Most people call me Viv…” I let my eyes fall to the paper, wandering the article aimlessly. It started to catch my attention when a name stuck out to me. “What's the Institute?” I asked her.

“You don’t know about the Institute? Oh, man... ” She rolled her eyes at me. I narrowed mine in return at her. “They snatch people up and replace you with robots." She sighed.

“Do people disappear a lot?”

“How would I know? They look just like us.” She retorted with an eyeroll. I let out a breath, trying to keep my patience.

“You’re a smart kid. I’m sure you know someone who does know.” She pondered this for a moment before shrugging her shoulders.

“I guess, you’d have to ask the detective, Mr. Valentine. He’s the only one to go to if someone’s gone missing."

“Oh yeah? Where’s he at?”

“Probably his office. It’s down that alley. There’s a sign at the end that shows the way.”

“Hey, thanks kid.”

“Remember what I said about the Institute! You can’t trust anyone.” She called after me as I walked. I waved goodbye and heard Nat muttering under her breath as I walked away. “Give her ten days… max.” I couldn’t help but laugh at this. She gave me three more days than I had given myself.

I followed her directions to the agency, quickly finding the glowing detective sign pointing me to the covered alleyway. Even in the daylight the pink neon ‘Valentine Detective Agency’ sign seemed like it was the only thing lighting the way. A heart shot by an arrow glowed behind the lettering with another arrow pointing towards the dark and narrow corridor leading towards the entrance. Passing the light, I couldn’t help but hear the fortune teller’s words in my mind.

You find that heart that's gonna lead you to your boy. Oh, it's... it's bright. So bright against the dark alleys it walks.  Maybe feeding that crazy old lady drugs was worth it after all. I should have written everything she said down, I thought to myself.

The metal door creaked open, and I was sure I would have alerted anyone inside. It was a simple box-y metal and concrete office, but was filled completely with files, papers, and other miscellaneous items that I could only guess were clues to cases. Off to the right, behind me, was a short hall that led to what I assumed were living quarters. Despite the cold look it gave, the agency felt warm and inviting. Across the room young lady in a flowy dress and dark jacket was rifling through files, completely oblivious to me intruding.

“The bills… Oh, forget the bills.” She sighed, mournfully muttering to herself. I decided to make my presence known, and finished walking inside, closing the door with a light slam. I figured I would have startled her but she kept her back towards me, continuing away with her work.

“Hello?” I finally spoke up.

“We're closed.” She told me over her shoulder. My eyebrows knitted together in frustration.

"I don't want to be rude but is Mr. Valentine here? It’s important."

"I’m sorry, the detective's gone." My heart felt like it missed a beat. I couldn’t have gone all this way to be led to a dead end.

"Gone? Gone where?" I asked. She turned to face me, her dress flouncing around her legs. "He was working a case. Skinny Malone's gang kidnapped a young woman and he tracked them down to an old subway station. I told him that it didn't feel right. But he just smiled and walked out like he always does… always did.” As sad as she sounded I couldn’t help but let out a silent sigh of relief. As long as he was alive he could help me find Shaun. It was just a matter of getting to him.

“Couldn’t he still come back?”

“He’s gotten himself into trouble before, but he’s never been gone this long. I never thought the day would actually come where he didn’t come back.”

“No one’s tried to get him?” I asked.

“Who do you send to find the man who finds everyone else?” She walked over to the desk in front of me and sat down in the armchair. Her face was fallen with defeat. I let out a long sigh, realizing I was about to make another stupid, and possibly fatal, decision.

“What’s your name?” I asked her, pulling the bag off my back. I dug around, counting my ammo boxes. After a quick stop at the gun stand in the market I would be set.

“Ellie.” She dried her tears, quickly composing herself.

“Where did you say he went, Ellie?”

“Park Street Station, it’s an old pre-war ruin. Skinny and his gang took it over.”

“Okay, great. I actually remember where that is.” I flung the bag back on my shoulder.

“You’re not actually going after him.”

“Do you have a better idea?”

“No, you just... you don’t strike me as the fighting type.”

“I’m not really.”

“Then why are you going?” Ellie asked, standing and following me as I headed towards the door.

“I need his help. And he’s not doing anyone any good gone.”

“You must be pretty desperate. It’s not often Nick can’t save himself.”

“As a matter of fact, I am.”

--

My legs were on fire by the time I had reached the Boston common. I had been able to get away with only running across some ghouls and a few rogue raiders before reaching this point, but I was still high on my guard.

Plywood signs along the metal fencing warned me not to wander inside the common’s park. Lucky for me, the hub was just on the edge and no where near the center. The buzz of anxiety kept me on my toes as I made one last mad dash for the station’s doors. The pops and cracks of battle echoed in the distance before they were muted by the heavy metal door shutting behind me. I would usually find this comforting, but there was plenty of danger waiting for me deeper underground.

The temperature fell as I descended down the broken escalator. I could hear talking coming from the next room. I hid behind the doorway, listening in and trying to get an idea of what I was dealing with.

“He’s weak, I’m tellin’ ya. That detective comes snooping around, and what does he do? Just keeps him locked up. He don’t even got the balls to ice some nobody.”

“Keep that shit to yourself. His new girl hears ya and she’ll start swinging that bat of hers until we don’t have no face left.” I could hear them walking and talking through the nearly empty lobby. A few more were lingering around. I didn’t think I would be able to shoot it out. I figured  it was time to improvise.

I pulled my pack around to rifle through the junk I had collected until I found a ragged stuffed bunny that I had found in Concord. It was hardly big enough, but it would work. I pulled the seam that ran down its back apart and tossed the stuffing onto the aged tile until it’s torso was hollow. The empty cavity ended up being the perfect bed for a grenade. There was barely enough room to cover the explosive with some of the fluff to seal it in with only the pin being visible. I gave myself a nod of satisfaction. It would do.

I grabbed a couple of caps from my pocket and took a short peak around the corner to get a look. Most of the men were dressed in sharp suits, and some even completed the ensemble with a worn fedora. Most of them carried guns longer than my arm, and probably a lot more experience than I did.  

The first cap was grasped in my hand, ready to fly. The metal clanged against the tile. I patiently listened as footsteps approached it. Another toss and the other cap rattle nearby the other.

“H-hey, check this out! Caps keep falling from the ceiling.” One of them called to the others. I was relieved to hear the other footsteps lumber over to the commotion.

“What the hell are you talking about?” My heart raced as they babbled on. My fingers sweated over the circle pin, waiting for the right moment to pull.

“They keep dropping down! Two of them! Look!”

“You’re hitting the chems too hard, bud.” A different voice chimed in.

“I haven’t even had that much! I’m serious!” The grenade clicked after losing its pin. One last good toss and I heard the soft thud of the toy. I covered my ears and braced myself behind the wall.

“What the-” BOOM!

It felt like minutes before I moved. I waited and waited for some sort of response or movement but nothing came. Slowly I stood and entered the now destroyed terminal. The air was heavy with the smell of blood and explosives. Like some sort of crude firework. There wasn’t much that could be recognized, other than the occasional burned cap. I figured it would still spend as I went around collecting them. I came upon the blue scrap of the bunny’s ear, left charred and frayed as I finished up.

“Thanks for your sacrifice, little buddy.” I gave it a small solute before moving deeper into the station.

I wasn’t nearly as lucky down by the tracks. I had to carefully sidestep a few mines as I made my way down. I stopped once the open area became visible. There were around a dozen or so triggermen. I had to be fast, precise, and alert. All things I did not feel confident in. My desperation had led me this far, though. Who’s to say it would fail me now?

I pulled out my pistol, checking the ammo before aiming directly at the back of their head. My finger trembled over the trigger, unable to let go of the fact that this would be the first gunfight that was initiated by me. I gave myself a moment to focus, taking slow breaths to balance my hand. Finally, I pulled the trigger. The first man flopped to the floor with the bang of my gun. Before someone had time to react I quickly aimed at the next one. My arm cuff was grazed as the other mobsters started to react. I ducked my head down as a swarm of bullets flew towards me. A break in the assault let me grab another glimpse of the tracks, and another head shot. It went on like that for awhile until the room finally fell quiet. The air held an unsettling feeling, keeping me frozen in my spot. I shut my eyes and waited for a noise. After several seconds there was a soft shuffle and footsteps. Just one set, but I could hear him closing in on me. He was creeping closer to the wall that protected me. I counted to three, held my breath, and popped up from behind the barrier. Before he could lift up his own gun my bullet flew through his chest.

I tried not to count the bodies as I passed them. I wasn’t close to ready to start processing the amount of damage I had caused. I followed the tracks, and was pleasantly surprised with the lack of security. I was able to stroll through the tunnels, their echoing silence bringing me some peace. Until I reached the last stop anyhow. I could see the tunnels had collapsed on the other side of the room. I slowed my pace and peaked around the tunnel opening. The coast seemed clear enough so I decided to continue on. I thought I was moving silently as I tried to sneak onto the platform.

“Hey! There’s someone here!” I heard a man call out from behind a pillar.

“Shit.” I muttered to myself.

“She’s here for the detective! Don’t let her-” With the pop of my gun I silenced the first goon, and the other dropped shortly after as he stumbled after him.

After a couple more skirmishes I found myself in an unfinished part of the station. Dirt and rock made up the floors, walls, and ceilings. The room was cluttered with boxes and construction equipment. As I ventured in a vault entrance came into view, sitting high on the wall with metal stairs leading up to it.

“A vault. Of course, he ended up in a vault.” Grumbling to myself I hooked my pip boy up to the panel, and pushed the button to open the door. The yellow lights circled as the vault hissed and groaned. The large gear shaped door sunk deeper into the earth before rolling off to the side. The metal bridge stretched out to meet the platform I was on. The familiar hollow step of my boot against the steel echoed as made my first steps in. It opened up to a small room, filled with storage containers. Off to the left was a small hallway, leading deeper inside the vault.

“Who the hell keeps opening the damn vault? Can’t hear myself think.” Someone called from the hall. “Skinny? Darla? S’that you?” The moment he came into view I fired. He cried out and with a limp arm he still attempted to aim his gun at me. Another shot and he was on the ground.

“Are you all this stupid?” I asked his body as I stepped over it.

The further I went into the vault the more the rooms started to blur together. I lost track of how many levels I had gone down, and of how many triggerman I had to put down. I was already desperate to get out of that stupid maze.

The last door opened to the second floor of the atrium. Below tables were sprawled out like a cafeteria. On the other side of the room, on the third level, a balcony overlooked the hall with a large circle window showing the office behind it. Yet another gangster stood in front of it, looking and talking to someone through the glass.

“How ya doin’, Valentine? Ya hungry, wanna snack?” He teased his prisoner. I let out a quiet sigh of relief. I found him. At least I could say I got this far. I could hardly hear the murmur behind the glass, but the words became more clear as I lurked closer to the stairs leading to the upper floor.

“...gives Malone more time to figure out how he’s going to bump you off.” The detective’s voice finally became clear as I reached the stairs, taking each step slowly enough to keep my boots from rattling against the metal.

“Don’t give me that crap. You don’t know nothing.”

“Oh really? I saw him write your name in that black book of his. Mumbling something about a ‘no-good, lousy, card shark’. Then he struck it off three times.”

“Three times? That’s not funny.” The guard itched around where he stood, obviously troubled by what the other man was saying. Once on the higher platform I hid before the doorway leading to the balcony.

“Gotta guilty conscious, Dino?”

“Shit… I gotta fix this, fast!” Dino was in such a rush that he blew right passed me squatting in the corner without noticing me. Another shot rang out through the atrium, as did the thud of his body.

“What was that? Who’s there?” The detective called out once the echo finished. I followed the voice to the window, only seeing a shadowy figure inside the office. “It’s not going to take long for them to realize he’s not coming back. Get that door open.” He gestured towards the terminal at the end of the balcony. It all seemed to happen so fast then, so meaningless. Even with Mama Murphy’s visions I had no idea I would be walking into a moment that had been written into fate a long time before then.

The door opened and I strolled inside the dark office, ready to grab him and bolt. The glow of his yellow eyes pierced through my thoughts, leaving all of my previous thoughts behind.

“Gotta love the irony of the reverse damsel-in-distress scenario.” He commented. With a flick of his metal wrist he fired up a match to light the cigarette hanging from his mouth. The flame that was brought to his face gave the first glimpse of the exposed framing beneath his cheek. “Question is, why did our heroine risk life and limb for an old private eye?” His voice struck a chord in me, somewhere that I thought was dead.

“Would you rather stay here?” I asked. He raised an eyebrow at me. Taking a drag of his cigarette he stepped forward into the light, giving me a better look at him. His synthetic grey skin had definitely been through plenty through his years in the Commonwealth. Despite his experience even his subtle smile felt warm to me.  

“No, but you’ll have to forgive me if I’m wary of walking into another trap.” He retorted. I conceited with a nod.

“I need your help. But, I’m a lot better at explaining when I’m not in an old vault surrounded by blood-lusted mobsters.”

“Fair enough.” He pulled his pistol from his holster and readied it. “Well, what’s your name?”

“Viv.”

“Just Viv?”

“Vivian-...” I hesitated, suddenly unsure if surnames were even used anymore. Judging by his inquisitive stare he was waiting to hear mine. “Becker.”

“Great, I’m Nick… Valentine.” His lips curled into a cheeky smile behind his cigarette. “I’m actually able to say I’m pleased to meet you. Although, I probably would have been pleased with anyone who rescued me from this place.”

“I’m flattered.”

“You should be. Not many people would have been able to get to me. I’ve been stuck

down here for weeks. Turns out the kidnapped girl I was trying to rescue wasn’t kidnapped at all. She’s Skinny’s new flame, and she’s got a mean streak.” He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly.

I let him lead us back out into the atrium. He seemed to know his way, and I was done figuring this maze out. I was happy to mindlessly follow after days of strategically planned movements.

I never imagined how much easier getting through a small army of mobsters would be with a partner. We blew through rooms as if we had trained together before. I could almost let my guard down. Even so, the vault went on for ages. We would think we were close, only to find another staircase leading up closer to the surface. Finally, after what felt like dozens of goons and staircases we finally made it to the final locked door.

“Do you think he’s in there?” I asked him as he went to work the terminal that held the door shut. “He could have run off.”

“No, he’s there. I can hear his fat footsteps from here” Nick murmured as he typed away. I was fascinated with the way his fingers moved, specifically the exposed metal ones, moved. Fluidly, and with intention, despite the fact that they were controlled by a computer themselves. “I’m not really sure where Skinny’s temper is these days. Stay alert in there.” He broke me from my thoughts. My heart thunked in my chest so loud I could feel the ripple in my entire body, the beat hammering in my ears. It was moments like these that I completely forgot why I was there. I wasn’t a soldier, that was my husband’s job.

“Ready?” He asked, cocking his gun.

“Ready.” I lied.

The door opened with a hiss. The next room’s light only illuminated Nick’s captors and what was left of their crew.

“Nicky, what do you think you’re doing?” A portly man in a sharp, black tuxedo called from inside the room.“You just come in to my home and start killing my guys? How could you do this to me?” Next to him a tiny porcelain doll of a woman with a shimmering, cool colored, dress wielded a baseball bat. They both watched with a smirk as the remaining triggerman aimed their weapons at us when we approached.

“You should tell that dame of yours to write home more often. I wouldn’t be here if her parents weren’t looking for her.” Nick said. I could see the detective nervously eyeing the room after he spoke. We were surrounded, and I was suddenly very aware of the large amount of sweat I was producing.

“What’s the matter, Valentine? Ashamed you got beat up by a girl? That why you needed your lady friend to come save you?” The woman cackled, her bright red lips stretching across her face. Her nearly flawless features should have stunned me, but I couldn’t get over the crazed look in her eyes. Even when she wasn’t looking at me I could feel her stare. “I told you, we should have just killed him! Now he’s sent this one to rub us all out.” She hissed. “Darla, I’m handling this!” Skinny scolded. She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, tucking the bat into the crook of her elbow.

“Sure, you’re handling it. Look how that turned out. You got all sentimental. All that stupid crap about the ‘old times’.”

“Darla, please!”

There’s… an echo. I found Mama Murphy’s words rolling around in my head again. I tried to push them away, staying on alert, but they forced their way in. Something in the past that can help you. When you meet the fat man and the angry woman… It finally clicked with me. I couldn’t believe that drug addicted, old, broad really wasn’t crazy.

“W-wait!” I was only half-expecting anyone to hear me, but as I spoke everyone’s eyes turned to me at once. My heart kicked into a new level of overdrive that I didn’t even think was possible. “Skinny… remember- remember the Quarry, a-and Lilly June on the rocks.” I couldn’t even hear myself speak. Everyone, including Nick, just stared in silence. Did I screw it up? Did I even say anything? Was I already dead?

“What?” The mob boss finally spoke, dumbfounded as his arms, and his weapon, dropped to his side.

“Um… remember the-”

“Shut up, I heard you.” He stopped me with a wave of his fat hand. His brow furrowed in thought, scratching at his face as the two brain cells he had bickered back and forth inside his head. Nick shot a look at me, silently asking what the hell I was thinking. I gave him a short shrug, not letting my eyes leave Skinny’s hands. The second they even twitch towards his gun and I would be ready. “Alright. Alright, fine. I’m going to give you ‘til the count of ten. After that then the old days are dead, and I see your faces again then you will be too.”

“Skinny, what are you doing? Kill them!” Darla shrilled, stomping her feet around like a spoiled child.

“No, Darla. Skinny Malone is putting his foot down. They get one chance to leave.” Darla’s face twisted with disgust. Her wooden bat clamored on the tile as she tossed it aside.

“My mother was right. You mobsters are all talk.” Without missing a beat, she turned on her heel and started walking into the shadows behind them.

“Babe, where you goin’?”

“Home. I don’t need you and your fat ass weighing me down anymore.” She called behind her shoulder as she sauntered out the back. The boss watched with his jaw left open, his head following her until she disappeared. He whipped around to face us, his eyes wide with pain and frustration.

“ONE.” Skinny growled through clenched teeth. His sausage fingers gripping his gun as he aimed it at us.

“Time to go.” Nick grabbed my hand and pulled me passed the small crowd to the back.

“TWO.” Once my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I could see how the far side of the room was cluttered with totes and boxes. It led to a wide hallway that led us further away from the scene but you could still hear the mobster’s voice booming behind us.

“THREE… FOUR… FIVE.” I could tell the boss was getting impatient as he sped up the countdown. “SIX.”

“This way, there’s a tunnel. It’s how I got in.” Sure enough, almost tucked away in the corner, was a ladder heading straight for the surface.

“SEVEN.” The stomps of boots started to approach as we clamored up the metal rods. At the top was a stone sewer cap. I struggled to push it open, hooking my leg around the ladder for balance as I used my whole upper body to shove the thing open.

“EIGHT.” Fresh air cascaded from above as the cap moved aside. I crawled out from the sewer hole and simply rolled aside so the detective could follow.

‘NINE.” I heard the last of Skinny Malone’s voice as Nick sealed the cap once again.

“Jeez, you’d think an old-school mobster who just got his heart stomped on would be more forgiving.” I chortled, staring up at the night’s sky. Nick gave a surprised chuckle. I could feel his eyes on me but it was easy to tune it out this time. Laying on the asphalt I let the crisp breeze relieve my body of its sticky sweat. I focused on my breathing, the rise and fall of my stomach. I was actually alive. “That was quite possibly the stupidest thing I’ve ever done.”

“Saving me?” I nodded, and he laughed again. “You mind telling me why you did? Or who you are?”

“I told you who I am.”

“Oh, c’mon.” I couldn’t help but giggle again at his frustration. I finally sat up, leaning back onto the palms of my hands.

“I went to your agency and your secretary said you were missing. You weren’t around to save yourself so I told her I would.”

“Okay, but why?” I curled my legs in to sit criss-cross, struggling to find the right words.

“I need your help… I’m looking for someone.” I picked at the skin around my finger nails, but kept eye contact with him as I spoke. He extended his metal hand out to help me up.

“Well, I’d say you’ve earned the right to tell your story.” Once I was back on my feet I brushed some of the dirt of pebbles off of my hands and jeans. “Let’s head back to my office. You can get a chance to unload your mind.” He said it like it was a good thing. The idea of voluntarily remembering what happened sent a spike of anxiety through my whole body. We had a decent walk back though. Plenty of time to think of ways to put it off.

It turns out Nick was an excellent travelling companion. Usually I enjoyed the still silence but listening to his stories of ‘the old days’ was both intriguing and hilarious. He talked about the cat and mouse chase that ensued between him and his old friend, Skinny Malone. There was something familiar about listening to him. Somehow it felt like a little window to before the blast. Even though he was recalling memories that had only happened some years before then, it felt like he was talking about the streets of Boston as it was two-hundred years ago.

The strangest mixture of dread and relief washed over me once we made it back to Diamond City. I almost got myself killed trying to get to this point, and yet part of me wished it had killed me. It sounded better than reliving what happened.

The town was silent under the midnight stars, so different from how I had left it. The occasional guard popping out from the shadows to patrol the market. Walking through, we would grab their attention but I noticed once they saw Nick they weren’t bothered with us anymore.

Back at the agency, the detective stepped in tentatively, I’m sure not to startle his secretary who was most likely sleeping.

“El, you here?”

“Nick?” I watched him smile as there was a sudden shuffle of footsteps from the private quarters. He silently invited me in, shutting the door behind us. Ellie came running in from the hall, her eyes obviously sleepless. “Oh my god, you’re alive. You’re actually here.”

“Try not to be too disappointed.” Nick said with a smirk. She ran over and embraced him, and he accepted it warmly. He gave her head a fond pat after breaking their hug. I noticed the tiny tears that had formed in her eyes. She wiped them away before they had the chance to fall. Suddenly her face turned into a scowl as she crossly set her hands on her hips.

“I told you it was a trap. You could have died.”

“A trap would mean they knew I was coming. They just got a lucky shot.” They bickered like that for awhile. In the meantime I let my bag fall off my back and onto the ground. I plopped onto a nearby chair, that had definitely seen better days. It was still a relief for the throbbing soles of my feet.

At first I tried to follow their conversation, but my brain would start to phase the sound away and replace it with emptiness. A quiet nothing feeling embraced me, where the only thing that was being processed was the sight of the robot moving from one paper stack to the next.

At some point Ellie stopped and pulled me from my trance to thank me and I believe I responded politely. She disappeared to bed some time after that, but I didn’t notice. I was back in my disassociation, my eyes only tracking the little movement in the room.

The flow of Nick’s patched trench coat. A scratch on the back of his neck. I wasn’t sure if I was even awake anymore. It was oddly satisfying, like meditating specifically on the moment.

“You’re staring.” The detective’s voice rang in my head before I realized he was actually speaking to me. He had sat down at the desk in front of me, and pulled a screwdriver from one of the drawers. “Have you ever met a synth before?” He asked as he started fiddling with some of the screws in his exposed hand.

"Oh, uh… no, but that’s not- uh…” I attempted to rub the sand out of my eyes but it was useless. I dropped my hands into my lap and sighed as I looked back at him. “Sorry. I'm just tired. I should head over to the Dugout and let you settle in. We can meet up in the morning." When I rose from the chair it felt as if I had spent all day there. Every joint in my body ached, begging for a proper rest.

"You could. Or you could use my bed tonight if you want." His statement actually woke me a bit from my state.

"You want me to sleep in your bed?" I raised an eyebrow at him.

"You don't have to. I don’t sleep so it’s not like I use it. I figured it would save you a few caps, and I thought I'd offer since you saved my life and all." I gave a soft laugh. The idea of walking just a few steps to a bed, as opposed to across the diamond, did sound appealing to me.

"You don't even know me. I could be some sort of con artist."

"I'll have to keep a close eye on you then, won't I?"

His bed, bedroom area, was up on a loft above Ellie’s. I climbed up the ladder quietly as she slept. My leather armor was shed to the floor, along with my blue flannel overshirt and heavy brown boots. I crawled onto the mattress and curled up happily under the light blanket. I don’t even remember closing my eyes. My mind just drifted back into the peaceful blackness.

[dopefigsinc]

Hitman about to execute his other sharpshooter

[ostentatious-verbosity]

“That match was totally radical! Gulak gets the tap and wins the first ever match of the World Warrior Fighting Federation! At least Mr. Satan isn’t being a sore loser! For Saitama, I’m Michaelangelo, stay tuned because we’re just getting started!” #wwff #actionfigures #toystagram #stackerfoundation https://www.instagram.com/p/B1151fKnY71/?igshid=7xwg530gutx1

[gangstaclyde]

@gangstaclyde Stacklynn Diaries Coming 2022!!!!!!🔥🔥🔥 Whose Word TV 💪😎💯 @whose_word_is_this #WWFF @worldwidefilmfactory2021 @torrenceii https://www.instagram.com/p/CZheteWJglW/?utm_medium=tumblr

[thatonesmithssong]

Very excited that my short film, that I wrote and EP’d is going to D.C. thank you to the people of @wwfilmfest for selecting SWIM. And thank you to all the talented people who worked on it: @vern_insky @jake_eagle @shannon_lynch @tdazzo @michaelblakekruse #shortfilm #filmfestival #SWIM #WWFF #short #film #coolTuesdayNews https://www.instagram.com/p/BnCwaXOg6l7/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1wzly36fo8ej5

[ailendolin]

Whump Wednesday - 52 - BBC Ghosts

Title: Quiet [AO3]

Characters: Thomas, Humphrey & Alison

Prompt: Alison is crying after Lucy's betrayal when she's sure Mike won't hear her and get worried. She's being found by one or two of the ghosts and comforted by them. - Prompt sent in by the lovely @magicaltear

A/N: Thank you again for this wonderful prompt, dear! As always, it took on a life of its own but I hope you enjoy your fic! 💙

Prompts are open, so if you want me to write a story for you as well just send me an ask with the fandom, characters and your prompt. I’m writing for Ghosts, Yonderland, Horrible Histories and Bill at the moment.

Six Idiots Whump Wednesday / Fluff Friday masterlist is here.

————

Quiet

“Do you hear that?”

Thomas stopped and cocked his head to the side, listening. His eyes widened when he heard the sound Humphrey must refer to. “That sounds like fair Alison!”

Humphrey raised one very unimpressed eyebrow at him.

“She’s crying,” he said pointedly.

Biting his lip, Thomas lowered his eyes, feeling chastised even though Humphrey hadn’t actually called him out on anything. “Sorry.”

“Never mind,” Humphrey sighed and did the eye roll equivalent of waving Thomas’s apology away. “We should probably go and see if she’s all right.”

Thomas lifted Humphrey’s head a little higher so he could look him in the eyes. “Humphrey, if she’s crying then I’m sure she’s not all right by any definition. And no wonder after what she’s been through! To be so ruthlessly deceived by someone she welcomed into her home and held so very dear …”

He trailed off, willing his thoughts not to stray towards a letter, a tree and a broken promise.

“I suppose we know a thing or two about being deceived by loved ones, don’t we?” Humphrey mused quietly. Nodding, Thomas bit his lip. “Maybe we can help.”

“Do you really think so?” Thomas asked, unsure. “I – I wouldn’t want to make it worse.”

A barely suppressed sob filtered through the wall beside them. They looked at each other.

“I’m pretty sure we couldn’t make it worse even if we tried, mate,” Humphrey said sadly.

Thomas sighed softly, knowing Humphrey had a point. He knew what it felt like to lock himself away in a dark corner of the house, hoping no one would find him but also wishing someone would just so he wouldn’t have to carry the weight of his feelings alone anymore. No one ever came looking for him, though, and if someone accidentally stumbled upon him by chance they always had an excuse ready as to why they couldn’t stay which hurt. Thomas couldn’t be sure that Alison would welcome their company in the same way he would if their places were reversed, of course, or if she would welcome it at all, but he would gladly risk her anger if there was even the smallest chance that she needed a willing ear to listen right now.

Having made up his mind, he readjusted his hold on Humphrey, cleared his throat and stuck both their heads through the wall of the en suite bathroom.

“Alison?” he asked softly.

Alison jumped.

“Oh for god’s sake, Thomas, not now!” she choked out, her voice thick with tears, and turned her back on him in an attempt to hide her face. She was sitting fully clothed in the bathtub, hugging her legs close to her chest, and her obvious grief over the loss of a sister that had never been hers to lose in the first place made Thomas’s chest tighten in sympathy.

He glanced down at Humphrey, silently begging him to take the lead and say something.  

“We don’t mean to bother you, Alison,” Humphrey said. “It’s just – we heard you crying and wanted to ask if there was anything we could do to help.”

Very slowly, Alison lifted her head to look at them. Her eyes were red from crying and darkened with more sorrow than a single person should have to bear on their shoulders. “I was trying to be quiet.”

Thomas squeezed his eyes shut. Of all the things she could have said in that moment. He was bitterly familiar with the pain of trying to be quiet so no one would have to bear witness to his emotions. His earliest memories as a child were of being shushed. He had been too young to be able to talk and hadn’t understood why his crying upset everyone so much that they sometimes locked him in his room. The nanny always took pity on him once he’d cried himself hoarse; on very rare occasions, it was his mother. It wasn’t until years later that he’d learned about the headaches his mother had been suffering from for most of her life, and it took even longer for him to understand what that actually meant: namely, merciless pain inside his head that turned even the most beautiful golden sunlight into agonising fire and the softest and gentlest if sounds into a cacophony of agony that made his stomach churn until he wanted nothing more than to be left alone in a dark and quiet room until the horrible affliction passed.

None of that had lessened the hurt he’d felt as a child, though, or undone the damage his parents’ abandonment had caused. He wondered if Alison had experienced something similar in her own childhood and was hiding from Mike right now because she simply didn’t know any better. He might not think much of her husband on the best of days but Thomas would have to be blind not to see the way Mike’s eyes had been resting on Alison all evening in concern. He had no doubt that Mike would be here in a heartbeat as soon as he knew she was upset and holding and comforting her. And yet Alison chose to hide herself and her grief away in the bathroom – just like Thomas would.

It broke his heart.

Shifting Humphrey’s head under his arm, he gestured to the bathroom with his hand and asked quietly, “May we?”

Alison sniffed and then, very hesitantly, nodded. Thomas faded through the wall and, careful to avoid her feet, sat down on the floor next to the bathtub. He chose to face the wall instead of her, hoping that this would make it easier for Alison to talk about what grieved her so deeply since it would for him. Pulling his knees up to his chest, he balanced Humphrey’s head on top of them as best as he could. And then he waited.

For the longest time, Alison remained silent, her breath hitching every now and then in-between soft sniffles, until–

“I just feel so stupid,” she choked out and hid her face against her knees. “The whole thing was completely crazy – like, movie crazy – and I still fell for it! I mean, how naïve do you have to be to get conned like that? God, I’m such an idiot.”

Thomas lowered his eyes. The letter inside his waistcoat with Isabelle’s misspelled name felt even heavier than it usually did.

“You’re not an idiot, Alison,” Humphrey said softly. “Or any of those other things you said. You just trusted the wrong person.”

“I trusted a stranger,” Alison spat out in self-loathing. “One of the first things parents teach their kids is never to trust–“

“Everyone can be a stranger,” Thomas interrupted her, his voice barely above a whisper. His wound throbbed dully in his side – a painful reminder of how true those words were. “Even those closest to us. Perhaps those most of all.”

The room blurred around him for a moment as he remembered a young boy, more lost than any child should ever be, looking up to his cousin and feeling so, so grateful that he was allowed to tag along on his adventures. That feeling had never changed, not even when Thomas had grown up. He had always trusted Francis with his whole heart and words could not describe the hurt that welled up inside him every time he thought of his cousin’s betrayal. Francis had not just taken his future away from him, he’d also ruined most of the happy memories Thomas had of his childhood with his actions on that fateful October day. Every kind smile they had shared over the years was now tainted with doubt and all those encouraging words Francis had so generously bestowed upon him in their conversations now left a bitter aftertaste.

“Thomas is right,” Humphrey said, gently bringing the bathroom back into focus around Thomas. “You can know a person for decades and still wake up one day and realise that you never knew them at all.”

Alison sucked in a sharp breath and looked down at her lap. “Does it ever get better?”

No, Thomas thought.

“It gets easier,” Humphrey said. “Things like that take time but eventually, you’ll learn to forgive yourself and to trust again.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to trust anyone after this,” Alison said with a shake of her head, roughly wiping the heel of her hand over one cheek.

Humphrey’s face softened. “You would lead a very lonely life if that were true.”

His eyes met Thomas’s, gentle and kind and so understanding that Thomas couldn’t help but feel seen. He didn’t know how but Humphrey must have noticed that he tended to keep some things desperately close to his heart and drawn the right conclusions. Not sure how to feel about that, Thomas dropped his eyes.

“You would not live,” he whispered, staring at his knees. “Your heart would be safe but you would wither away. Even the most resilient flower cannot bloom without the sun.”

“Well said,” Humphrey agreed softly.

The corners of Thomas’s lips twitched into a sad semblance of a smile. He supposed Humphrey knew as much about existing without living as he did, possibly even more given that his isolation was rarely by choice. Thomas certainly wasn’t the only one guilty of forgetting about him and leaving his head lying around in all sorts of places but he was guilty of it, and he suddenly found himself regretting all those times he had groaned and rolled his eyes when Humphrey asked him to pick him up.

Biting his lip, he forced himself to meet Humphrey’s eyes and say what he couldn’t with words: that he was sorry, and that he would try to do better in the future. Humphrey’s face softened and to Thomas’s surprise there was no blame in his eyes when he nodded, only quiet understanding. It made Thomas want to weep.

“Well.” Alison cleared her throat before she slowly uncurled from her no-doubt uncomfortable position in the bathtub She stretched out her legs in front of her. “For what it’s worth, I definitely won’t let any so-called long-lost relatives into my house again anytime soon.”

Thomas glanced over at her. “That would probably be wise.”

Alison smiled at that, a little wryly, perhaps, but she sounded genuinely grateful when she said, “Thanks, guys. I – I think I needed this.”

“Any time,” Humphrey said easily, as if they all hadn’t just bared their souls a little in front of each other right now. “Do you want us to leave you alone for a bit or–?”

“Actually, I think I’ll go find Mike,” Alison said and pushed herself to her feet. Her eyes were still red from crying and her cheeks still flushed but she seemed – not exactly at peace but one step closer to accepting what had happened and being able to let go of the self-blame that was tormenting her.

Thomas remained silent when she stepped over him on her way to the sink to splash some water in her face, and he didn’t move when she smiled at them once more before she left the bathroom. Her steps had faded down the stairs by the time Humphrey asked him quietly, “Are you all right?”

An hour ago Thomas would have nodded, forced a smile onto his face and changed the subject. Now he shook his head. “No.”

“Yeah, me neither,” Humphrey said. “Brought up a lot of memories, didn’t it?”

And guilt, Thomas thought. He looked at Humphrey, took in those kind blue eyes that were way too often ignored and left staring at nothing, and found himself saying, “Perhaps we could … talk about it? If you’d like? I don’t think I’ve ever heard about what happened with your wife – at least not directly from you.”

It was a clumsy attempt to make amends – Thomas realised that – but it was an attempt nonetheless and judging by the small smile pulling at Humphrey’s lips, he recognised that too.

“I would like that,” Humphrey said. “Mind putting me on the bathtub? Then you won’t have to hold me the whole time. Just don’t leave me there,” he added with an edge to his tone. “Please don’t leave me there. The bathroom is really not the place to get stuck in if you know what I mean.”

His eyes flicked over to the toilet and despite everything that had happened that day, Thomas found a laugh bubbling up from somewhere deep within him.

“I won’t,” he promised and sat Humphrey down with more care than he probably would have before.

“Thank you,” Humphrey said, clearly relieved. “Now, about Sophie. Where to start…?”

Thomas shifted a little to get comfortable, and as he listened to Humphrey’s story, he felt closer to him than he had to anyone in a very long time. Perhaps, he mused, they could help each other learn how to live again.

It was about time.

[divepelagos]

#wwff #vigilidelfuoco #loves_united_parma #tangenzialediparma #prontointervento #streetphotography https://www.instagram.com/p/B8lyMM8owyy/?igshid=p7u2crnzeth

[kanekohideshi-tyomag]

『thermo mug』誕生20周年！マイボトルを推進する社会貢献活動をスタート！

日本のボトルブランド『thermo mug（サーモマグ）』が、誕生20周年をむかえ、ブランドのあらたなミッションとして社会貢献活動をスタートさせた。 ＞＞＞TYO mag

[g4ljw-amateur-radio]

Amateur Radio Newsline Report 2371 for Friday April 7th, 2023

- DXPEDITION TO REMOTE ROCKALL ISLAND FOR CHARITY - ARKANSAS HAMS SPRING INTO ACTION DURING TORNADOES - CANADIAN FERRY MARKS ANNIVERSARY WITH US AMATEURS - ITU OPENS AREA OFFICE IN NEW DELHI - SATELLITE LAUNCH OPERATION SHUT BY VIRGIN ORBIT - RETIRED COSMONAUT JOINS ON-AIR EVENT AS SPECIAL OP - ARDC ANNOUNCES RIA JAIRAM, N2RJ, JOINING THE BOARD - HAMS IN AUSTRALIA OBSERVE THE ECLIPSE, RADIO-STYLE - WWFF ACTIVATES SPECIAL EVENT CALLSIGN IN AUSTRALIA - PLANS MOVE AHEAD FOR CLIPPERTON ISLAND DXPEDITION - FORD MOTOR COMPANY ELIMINATES AM RADIO IN 2024 MODELS - KICKER: PENNSYLVANIA AMATEUR'S CONTACT 'OUT OF THIS WORLD' - NOMINATE OUR NEXT 'YOUNG HAM OF THE YEAR' SCRIPT AUDIO http://dlvr.it/Sm6SzM

[qsotodaypodcast]

Episode 433 Paul Simmonds VK5PAS

Paul Simmonds, VK5PAS, now a retired South Australia Police detective, is a relatively new ham, along with his wife, Marija, VK5MAZ. They have taken the hobby to new heights by operating in the great outdoors of South Australia, participating in  WWFF, SOTA, POTA, and other outdoor amateur radio operating events.  He collects certificates, QSL cards, and new friends, around the World, in pursuit of amateur radio.  VK5PAS is my QSO Today.

Check out this episode!