#cormack

[the-sleepydragon]

Some doodles of the kids!

- Mod Genie

[a-crack-in-the-universe]

I just started rereading Daughter of the Forest again, and I have thoughts:

Finbar’s speech to Colum (and also his words to Sorcha) about trying to understand your enemy and make peace with them is so relevant, and I love how the Warrior Bards and Shadowfell series show this theme as well.

Colum really is a terrible father. He only pays attention to his sons once they’re finally old enough to take part in his campaigns. And his treatment of Finbar is abusive. Not to mention he’s been ignoring Sorcha and doesn’t even know how old she is. I know it’s because of his grief and trauma re Niamh’s death, but it doesn’t excuse his terrible parenting.

I love Sorcha, but her thinking Eilis is boring because she doesn’t like the same things as Sorcha is so unfair? Eilis seems like a really nice girl, her not liking to run around and play in the forest doesn’t make her a bad person. Even Oonagh dismisses her. Justice for Eilis!

“Padriac will go farther than any of us” is such good foreshadowing, I love it so much.

The whole period where Sorcha is looking after Simon is so interesting, because it’s clearly a turning point for her and marks the beginning of Sorcha’s loss of innocence and end of her childhood. Before meeting Simon, Sorcha very much is innocent and optimistic like a child usually is, and once she sees what the Sevenwaters men have done to Simon and hears what they do to other people on their campaigns, there is no going back. She can’t go back to pretending that darkness and cruelty don’t exist in the world.

And then we come to Lady Oonagh. Oonagh is such a great villain, so cold and manipulative and deceptive. The way she managed to bewitch Lord Colum and Diarmid is so 😭. I wonder how Diarmid managed to get under her sway though when all of his other siblings were able to resist her?

The way Oonagh asks questions to Sorcha about the brothers and Sorcha is compelled to answer is creepy. It looks like she’s gathering information to use against the Sevenwaters siblings, especially the brothers.

It’s interesting how, though Finbar talks of understanding the Britons and how they are people, he is extremely quick to judge Simon and assume he intends some harm by giving Sorcha the wooden carving. He is right though that destroying the carving would probably be the safest course of action, especially with Lady Oonagh around now.

Padriac’s such a friend to all animals. I love his outrage when seeing Linn’s injury. It’s so sweet. :’) Also him being furious with Cormack over it.

Poor Cormack. You can tell that he’s devastated and ashamed that he hurt his beloved dog.

Oonagh killing all of Padriac’s animals hurts me more than anything else she does before she turns the brothers into swans. Mainly because she never intended to murder Eilis or Linn, but she murdered Padriac’s beloved animals knowing how it would break his heart. It’s the cruelest thing she’s done so far.

[jeanhm]

[cuidarelplaneta]

Carniceros de Ballenas

Greenpeace fue advertida de que las autoridades canadienses estaban informando a los rusos sobre su posición. En consecuencia, para despistarlos, el Cormack navegó durante algunos días hacia el norte antes de retroceder subrepticiamente a Winter Harbour para reponer combustible. Allí, los tripulantes se enteraron de que McTaggart había obtenido una victoria parcial en su pleito contra la marina francesa, éxito que se celebró a bordo la noche anterior al 18 de junio, fecha en que se dirigieron hacia el punto en que debía producirse su primera confrontación. El 23 de junio, el Cormack captó una emisión radiofónica procedente del buque factoría soviético, el Dalniy Vostok.

Al cabo de unos pocos días avistaron los buques soviéticos a unas 50 millas (80 km) al oeste de Eureka, California. También descubrieron un cachalote muerto; los balleneros habían fijado una boya al cadáver para volver a recogerlo más adelante. El animal sangraba tan profundamente, que el agua había adquirido un repugnante color rosado. Además, parecía de talla bastante pequeña.

Paul Wilson declaró a la revista Vancouver: «Sorprendimos a los carniceros de ballenas con las manos en la masa, en el acto de capturar una ballena de tamaño inferior al permitido. Me acerqué a Zodiac y salté de la lancha al cachalote asesinado. que tenía la piel cálida y aceitosa y sangraba por la herida del costado, ardiente al tacto. Me aferré a la aleta, me estiré para llegar al ojo, abierto y de Vlastní— que acababa de descargar seis ballenas en el buque factoría y que ahora iba a cazar más. Pronto empezaron a verse surtidores de ballenas a proa del barco soviético. En unos minutos, las Zodiacs estaban en el agua. En una de ellas, Hunter y Korotva volaron para situarse entre los cañones arponeros y las ballenas. Patrick Moore luchaba por mantener su lancha al costado de la anterior mientras Rex Weyler tomaba fotografías frenéticamente. En la tercera embarcación, Watson y Fred Easton saltaban sobre las olas para unirseles.

Súbitamente, un arpón pasó volando sobre las cabezas de Hunter y Korotva y se hundió en el cuerpo de una ballena situada justo a su lado; la granada del proyectil estalló en el lomo del indefenso animal.

El cable del arpón daba trallazos a menos de metro y medio de Korotkova y Hunter. «Les importaba un comino hacernos volar en pedazos», exclamó colérico Korova. Los fotógrafos captaron este disparo a corta distancia que pronto se haría famoso. «Por vez primera en la historia de la caza de la ballena», comentaba el New York Times, «seres humanos se interponen en la línea del fuego dirigido a los cetáceos».

Aunque la infortunada criatura murió, las acciones de Greenpeace permitieron a otros ocho animales escapar de los arpones soviéticos.

Cuando el Dalniy Vostok se alejó hacia el horizonte, el Cormack puso proa a San Francisco, donde la prensa les esperaba junto a una multitud de partidarios y gente que deseaban darles la bienvenida.

Daba la impresión de que todos los países con enlaces de prensa se habían hecho con las fotografías de Weyler. Cadenas de televisión de Estados Unidos, Canadá, Europa y hasta Japón pasaron la película de Greenpeace con sus miembros ante los arpones del

Vlastní. La misión había tenido un éxito inconmensurable. 

Durante los dos años siguientes, los grupos que se hacían llamar Greenpeace se multiplicaron desde Tennessee hasta Saskatchewan: sus fundadores ardían de entusiasmo en las conferencias de Spong y Hunter. «Al menos una docena de bandas independientes de eco libertarios, todas autodenominadas Greenpeace, abrieron espontáneamente oficinas en sitios como Honolulu, Boston, Los Ángeles, Seattle y Nueva York», dijo Hunter,que había asumido la dirección. «En Canadá, nos entendemos por Lethbridge. Edmonton. Winnipeg. Thunder Bay, Toronto, Montreal y, aunque brevemente, Terranova. En la Columbia Británica, los grupos de Greenpeace surgían en docenas de pueblos y puertos interesados por la ecología».

Aunque Hunter afirmó que en 1976 tenían más de 10.000 defensores, muchas de las «oficinas» consistían únicamente en un individuo interesado que alquilaba un teléfono y una habitación para celebrar reuniones ocasionales. En realidad, Greenpeace era todavía una organización en ciernes con un núcleo de sólo 30 colaboradores activos. Pero en San Francisco estaba empezando a formarse un grupo sólido que organizaba campañas de recogida de fondos. lo que permitió abrir una oficina en esa ciudad el a��o 1976. 

En Vancouver, la oficina principal de Greenpeace tenía una deuda de 40.000 dólares y necesitaba profesionalizar un poco su funcionamiento. Se formó una junta directiva con Hunter como presidente y Moore, Korotva y Rod Marining (miembro de Greenpeace desde los días de Amchitka) como vicepresidentes responsables de política, comunicaciones y operaciones, respectivamente. Buscaron asesores financieros y contables, contrataron un jefe de oficina en régimen de dedicación completa, organizaron un servicio informatizado de envíos por correo, abrieron una tienda de objetos relacionados con Greenpeace y lanzaron su propio periódico.

A principios del verano de 1976, Greenpeace había reunido dinero suficiente para financiar una segunda misión contra los balleneros. Partió de Vancouver el 13 de junio, esta vez a bordo del James Bay, un dragaminas de 47 metros de la Real Marina Cana- diense retirado del servicio. Firmaron un complicado contrato de flete en virtud del cual se comprometían a hacerle reparaciones por valor de 50.000 dólares de trabajo para ponerlo en orden de navegación. Irónicamente, era similar al que había embestido a David McTaggart en 1972, con la sola diferencia de que el James Bay ostentaba un arco iris recién pintado en la amura.

El James Bay era lo bastante rápido para aguantar el ritmo de los balleneros y tenía sitio para 36 tripulantes. «Si Rusia y Japón deciden seguir cazando ballenas, advirtió Hunter, «tendrán que pasar por encima de nuestros cadáveres»

Originally published at https://cuidarelplaneta.com/ Juny 17, 2023.

[fimmeltravis]

Travis Fimmel as Detective James Cormack // Black Snow // S2E1

[whitedarkmoonflower]

Travis Fimmel as Detective James Cormack // Black Snow

[levithestripper]

Travis Fimmel as Detective James Cormack in BLACK SNOW (2023) 8/?

[xdevilrushx]

Progress.

[when-jaguars-are-sick]

JAMIE: The Deterioration of Date Night

Hey, so I actually wrote something lol. This one's a little different than what I've done before, but I had fun, so here's some sick Jamie, finally

------

Max and Charlie have this joke that at this point, the two of them should just start dating, despite neither of them having any romantic feelings for the other, because of how often they end up alone with the other.

Being the only single members of their flat, it’s not unexpected, but when Tuesdays unofficially became date night it seemed inevitable that the two of them would be alone more often.

Max is expecting another slow night with Charlie, eating dinner and then playing a board game or something.

They’re standing in the kitchen, scrolling on their phone waiting for Charlie to get home from work, when their phone dings with a text.

Jamie: Coming home now.

Weird, they think, moving to examine the flat’s message board. Jamie’s not supposed to finish work for another two hours, they remark, starting to wonder if something’s wrong; it’s not like Jamie to call out of work, let alone leave early.

Then they notice Jamie’s little blue sticky note that says  “Dinner with Key, home by 10:00” and it's not even 4:00, so they know something weird is going on.

Their phone dings with another message, and they’re relieved to see Colin’s name.

Colin: no date with keegan 2night? everthing ok?

Jamie: Not tonight.

Many thoughts run through their head, scenarios where Jamie and Keegan have broken up, as unlikely as it is, or where something happened to upset Jamie enough that he wouldn’t want to see Keegan.

When Jamie finally walks in, however, Max knows none of their speculations were right. They shove their phone in their pocket, and meet him at the door.

“Hey Jamie, are you okay?” they ask gently, scanning him carefully, noticing the way he’s sporting an uncharacteristic frown, and the way he’s holding himself deliberately rigid.

He shrugs, hanging up his jacket and kicking off his shoes. He walks past Max without a word, and goes straight to his bedroom. Confused, Max trails after Jamie, pausing in the doorway and watching as he lies on his bed, facing the wall.

They knock softly on the doorframe until Jamie glances up at them. He sighs, and says, “Well, come in then.”

Max hesitates, hearing the resigned tones in their friend’s voice, but they also need to know, at least partially, what’s wrong, so they slowly walk in and perch next to him on the bed.

“I know something’s wrong,” they start, glancing at him again, and he resolutely avoids their eyes, “Can you talk to me, please?”

Jamie huffs, curling up further. After a moment, Max considers leaving him to it, and texting Colin to talk some sense into him, but then he mumbles, “I don’t feel good.”

Okay, they can work with that.

They scoot closer to him, and go to check for a fever, before hesitating, “Can I…?” they ask carefully, hand raised by his forehead.

He glances at them, and then turns over so he’s facing them properly, “I guess. Don’t think I have a fever though.” Max gently settles their hand on his forehead, then runs their hand through their hair as he pulls it away. Jamie stretches into the contact a little bit, almost unconsciously, and Max bites down a smile.

“You’re right,” they say softly, “No fever.”

Jamie gives a small smile in response, then he winces, wraps his arms tighter around himself, and tucks his face further into the blankets on his bed, essentially hiding his face from Max.

“So…” they start, deciding to push just a bit more, “Is your belly bothering you?”

Jamie groans, biting his lip, and he gives a small nod as his face flushes slightly. Max brushes a hand back through his hair, and smiles as Jamie relaxes again.

“Do you think you’ll throw up?” Jamie immediately shakes his head, face paling at the thought, a distinct difference from the warm tones of a few seconds earlier. Max frowns, wondering if he just doesn’t like the thought, or if he genuinely doesn’t think he’ll throw up. They shrug it off, deciding that’s enough pushing for now.

Instead, they ask him, “Do you want me to stay, or leave?” Jamie glances at them, then frowns, and mutters, “I don’t care.”

They roll their eyes, and nudge him, “Scooch over then,” sliding onto the bed properly and sitting against the headboard. Their hand finds its way back into Jamie’s hair, running through his messy brown curls, and Jamie presses his face against Max’s pants, glasses sliding down his nose at an awkward angle.

They sit there in silence, unsure what Jamie needs to feel better, and hoping that Jamie’s like them, and just doesn’t want to be alone when he’s sick.

After a few minutes, Jamie shifts, moving against them and sitting up until he can lean on Max’s shoulder.

“Can you pass me that book?” he asks quietly, pointing to his bedside table, and pushing his glasses back up his nose. With the book in his hand, the quiet returns, save for the rustling of pages and the slight whines coming from Jamie’s stomach.

Max slides an earbud into his ear, giving Jamie the semblance of some privacy, without having to leave him alone, and they lean into the comfortable balance they’ve created.

They can immediately tell that something’s changed, when Jamie abruptly slides a bookmark into his book, puts it aside, and closes his eyes, his arms wrapping tightly around his belly.

“Jamie?” they ask softly, a loud gurgle coming from their friend’s abdomen. They eye the garbage can across the room, but before they can move, Jamie slides himself off the bed, and mutters “I’m going to the bathroom.” His tone is so muted and final enough that Max doesn’t question if they should follow him; There was no invitation in that phrase.

Instead, they wander the apartment, checking that Charlie hasn’t come home yet (she hasn’t), collecting a glass of water for Jamie, and putting it beside his bed, and then sitting on the couch.

They hang out there, petting Apple when she comes to see them, purring and pushing her face against their hand until their attention returns to her. The snap of a door down the hall startles Apple enough that she stops purring, and goes to investigate. Max laughs as they follow the cat down the hall, but when she turns towards the firmly-closed bathroom, nose twitching in interest, they turn toward Jamie’s room.

The door is open just enough that Max can tell that Jamie returned to his previous position on the bed, and they push the door open, joining them once more.

“Hey, you okay?”

Jamie gives a small groan, and shakes his head. Apple, hearing the noise comes trotting into the room, and with a small mew, jumps onto the bed, walks across Max, and butts her small head against Jamie’s hand. He smiles at her antics, and he pets her until she curls up against his stomach.

When Jamie lets his hand fall back onto the bed, Max turns their attention onto him properly. He’s paler than normal, face covered in a thin layer of sweat, and his gentle face contorted in an expression of discomfort.

Max frowns slightly as they consider their friend, mind running through scenarios or actions that could help. Before they make a decision though, they hear the front door open and close, and the clattering of someone - Charlie probably - returning home.

It’s only a few minutes later when the door to Jamie’s room swings open, and Charlie breezes into the room.

“Hey peeps, what’s goi- Oh. What’s wrong with Jamie?”

“Besides you just walking in, and talking about me as if I’m not right here,” mutters Jamie into the blankets, so quiet that Charlie couldn’t have heard it, but just loud enough that Max could, and they stifle a laugh behind their hand.

To Charlie, they answer, “You know there’s such a thing as knocking, right Charlie? And Jamie’s fine, mostly.”

She takes a small half-step back, and her eyes get that wary look she sometimes has, as she asks “He’s not going to throw up, is he?”

“He is right here,” says Jamie a little more forcefully, sitting up straighter. He continues more quietly, “And no, I’m not.”

Charlie nods, and lingers for an extra couple of seconds before walking back toward the door. A thought occurs to Max, “Hey, sorry I didn’t have plans for dinner or anything.”

She shrugs, and says, “That’s okay, I was thinking of making something light tonight anyway. I’ve felt a bit weird today.”

Max frowns, glancing between her and Jamie. She does look a bit pale, and she’s holding the door frame… but before they can question her further, she seems to realize how that sounded.

“Oh, I’m not sick, I don’t know what’s up.”

“Is your sug-”

“No, my sugar’s fine, I’ve had my eye on it all day, but it’s normal,” she shrugs, “so I’m just gonna make a salad or something.”

Relieved, Max readily agrees, and when she leaves, they turn back to Jamie, who looks as if he could be asleep, but Max knows that’s probably not the case.

With the moment of quiet, they fish their phone out of their pocket and text Colin.

Max: Hey, could you maybe come home as soon as you’re done with work tonight?

The response comes more quickly than they expected, and Colin’s reply makes them smile, feeling some immediate relief at the thought of Colin coming home soon.

Colin: already talked 2 ro about that. is jamie ok

Max: He’s sick, but okay. But I think you should be here.

Colin: ok home in 1 hour

For as well as Max knows Jamie, caretaking is not their forte. They make a decision about an event, or an initiative with a quiet kind of determination, but ask them to look after someone and they start overthinking every decision.

—---

By the time Colin gets home, Jamie has settled into a restless doze, squirming every minute or so, a tight frown between his eyes. This is the most honest he’s been all night about how he’s feeling though, so Max can’t find it in themself to wake him up.

They’re startled from their quiet observations with a knock on the door, and they look up to find Colin grinning at them as he softly moves into the room. Their shoulders immediately lose some tension they didn’t realize they were carrying.

His grin falters when he sees Jamie, “He’s sleeping?” he asks, sounding half worried, half amused.

Colin spins the desk chair around, plopping on it and meeting Max’s eyes.

“So what’s going on? You just said he’s sick…”

“I’m uh, not really sure. He’s not feeling well, clearly, and he went to the bathroom for a while, but he said he’s not throwing up, so I don’t know.”

Colin nods, expression softening further as he properly looks at Jamie, whose nose scrunches as he starts to blink awake.

“Hey dude,” Colin starts gently, seeing Jamie’s eyes snap over to him, widening slightly, “What’s going on?”

Max gently excuses themself, and joins Charlie in the kitchen, hoping Colin can get more out of Jamie than they could.

“Are you going to actually tell me what’s wrong, or am I guessing?” Colin asks in amusement, laying down and pulling Jamie towards him.

“Don’t feel good.”

“Yeah, I got that part,” he looks down at Jamie, and frowns as a liquidly gurgle sounds through the room, “Your stomach’s bothering you?”

Jamie nods into his chest, and he continues, “You’re not throwing up?”

He shakes his head, then sighs.

“C’mon Jamie, what’s wrong? Admitting it is the first step my dude.”

He lets out a slightly hysterical giggle, and finally admits, “I’m not going to throw up. Uhh, we had a staff party today, and something must have been bad, that’s why Sam started sending people home. So I really don’t feel very good, but I’m definitely not throwing up. It’s uhh…  lower…” he finishes, covering his face with his hand and cringing, face blooming with pink.

“Hey, don’t be embarrassed,” chides Colin gently, “It’s okay, happens to everyone.”

A groan builds in Jamie’s throat and Colin just tugs him closer. Close enough that he can feel the burbles moving through Jamie’s belly.

Jamie closes his eyes against another ripple that tears through his intestines, and he squirms, before caving to the discomfort.

He peels himself away from Colin, mumbles “I need to go to the bathroom,” and stands unsteadily.

“Okay,” Colin says easily, standing up first and looking around. He hands Jamie his phone, “Take this, and text me if you need anything, okay?”

Jamie nods, wincing when another cramp ripples through his belly. Colin watches as he makes a slow trek to the washroom, clearly uncomfortable.

As he watches the door close behind his friend, he calls “Hey, don’t lock the door, please. I won’t come in, obviously, but I don’t want you stuck in there if anything happens.”

He hears Jamie’s hum of agreement, and when he doesn't hear the lock engage, he turns back to Jamie’s room, and sets to work. He straightens the blankets, and finds a glass of water on the bedside table - That must have been Max, he thinks fondly.

He pokes his head into the living room, and finds Max and Charlie curled up on the couch, salad bowls abandoned on the table. He answers their questions about Jamie, pleased to be able to report that it’s food poisoning, and nothing more serious. He smiles, moving onto the kitchen, where he rummages under the sink until he triumphantly pulls out a hot water bottle.

He boils some water, fills the water bottle, and makes a mug of tea with the leftover water. As the tea’s steeping, he hears a small sound from down the hall, and then the bathroom door opens.

“Colin?” Jamie calls quietly, and Colin hurries over.

“Jamie? You okay?”

As he approaches the bathroom, he finds Jamie standing at the door, steadied by a hand on the door jamb.

“I mean, besides the obvious,” he continues more calmly. He notices how Jamie’s about 6 shades paler than normal, and his eyes are ringed with red from crying, and his heart clenches in sympathy.

“Come here,” he mutters, pulling Jamie towards him, and they half-hug, half-stumble back to his room. He flops pathetically onto the bed, and Colin pouts at him sadly.

“I’m sorry you feel so awful, Jamie. I’ll be right back, okay?” At his weak nod, Colin hurries back to the kitchen, grabbing the items he previously abandoned.

He offers Jamie the hot water bottle, and he immediately curls up around it, letting out a little happy sigh as the warmth seeps into his skin, chasing away some of the claminess he was feeling.

“Don’t get too comfortable yet, Jamie. Sit up for a minute, okay?”

Jamie groans, but still lifts himself up on shaking arms, until he’s sitting against the wall. Colin slides into the spot next to him, pressing their shoulders together, and passing Jamie the glass of water.

“Have a few sips, okay?” instructs Colin, but Jamie turns his head into Colin’s shoulder instead, a whine building in his throat.

”C’mon Jamie, you have to drink something. I’m sure you’re already dehydrated. Take a few sips of water, and then you can have some tea.”

Thankfully, Jamie doesn’t put up anymore arguments, carefully drinking some water, and then even more carefully, the tea. He hums in appreciation, the soothing chamomile flavours washing over his tongue and reminding him of nights curled up in his mami’s arms.

The discomfort is still there, bubbling low in his gut, but he thinks he might be able to get a few hours of sleep, with the warmth of the water bottle, and the exhaustion from the illness. Especially if Colin stays here, he thinks, curling into his warmth, Colin’s arm wrapping around his shoulders and pulling him close. He lets his eyes drift closed.

[macabrewhims]

i see the signs of a lifetime, you ‘till i die

[a little edit inspired by the don’t delete the kisses music video by wolf alice :)]

[navybrat817]

These two with the hair and the glasses and the beards and-

[a-crack-in-the-universe]

I just realised that Aisha was probably born not long after Son of the Shadows, so imagine: Samara was pregnant when she and Padriac came to Sevenwaters to farewell Sorcha. During that visit Padriac got to tell Sorcha that he and Samara are married and going to have a baby. Considering how most of her other brothers’ lives turned out (Liam-lost Eilis, Diarmid and Cormack-dead in battle, Finbar-part swan and hiding from the world), Sorcha would be overjoyed to hear that one of her brothers found happiness.

[jeanhm]

Cormack

Our next stop is Cormack on the southern end of the northern peninsula which we are heading up tomorrow. our accommodation was interesting as the huts used to be WW2 accommodation and each of the cabins had a story about the family who lived there. Little else of interest today as been hightailing it across to the Gros Morne area ready for the trip up north.

[nofatclips]

Night Vision by Kiwi Jr., live at WFUV

[fimmeltravis]

He's so cute when he tries to flirt 😅 // Travis Fimmel as Detective James Cormack // Black Snow // S2E3