#erik sotto

[autolesionistra]

Breve cronistoria dei viaggi nel tempo

[Ho scritto questo raccontino agostano vagamente sci-fi per la (bella) newsletter dello scartafaccio, facendo un giretto fuori dalla mia comfort zone. Lo incollo pure qui.]

A differenza dei princìpi che li regolano, per scalfire superficialmente i quali è stato - letteralmente - necessario un Einstein, la meccanica empirica dei viaggi nel tempo è incredibilmente rozza; realizzare strumenti per sfruttarla è di relativa semplicità ed è un traguardo raggiunto cinque volte nella storia dell’umanità (se dopo la stesura di questo testo se ne aggiungessero altre il lettore tenga conto che questo numero potrebbe sia aumentare che diminuire).

Il primo essere umano a costruire una rudimentale macchina del tempo fu l’assiro Adad-Nirari, nell’810 a.C. a Tarso. Tuttavia, non ne capì il vero funzionamento e ritenne di aver creato un sistema magico per fare sparire le cose. Non avendo gli Assiri all’epoca grossi problemi di smaltimento rifiuti, fu per lo più ignorato o preso per pazzo. Nel tentativo di convincere i suoi concittadini dell’importanza della sua scoperta fece sparire un ingente quantitativo di oggetti e animali, fra cui spiccano:

- una coppetta in terracotta che si materializzò nel 1912 sotto la coltre di permafrost svedese, creando una serie di grattacapi all’archeologo Erik Sjöqvist e costandogli quasi la carriera - una pecora che fu spedita nel giurassico superiore, prontamente divorata da un allosauro che passò il resto della sua infruttuosa esistenza a cercare altre prede così gustose. La sparizione della pecora fu mal digerita (tranne che dall’allosauro): il proprietario pretese un risarcimento da Adad-Nirari che distrusse poi la sua creazione per stizza.

Per la seconda macchina del tempo toccò attendere il 1652 quando il gesuita Giuseppe Adami, di stanza al Collegio di Messina, riuscì a costrurine una nei sotterranei dell’edificio. Fu il primo a capire l’importanza del legame fra coordinate spaziali  e temporali ma per un misto di impazienza e di ostinata devozione al sistema tolemaico il suo primo esperimento finì in tragedia: tentò di mandare Agostino, il gatto del collegio, di una frazione di secondo nel futuro e se lo ritrovò materializzato nel basso ventre. I suoi confratelli attratti dalle urla lo trovarono riverso con il muso di Agostino che gli spuntava dalla schiena. Per non correre rischi lo arsero al rogo ancora agonizzante.

Quasi contemporaneamente, nel 1653, una nobile di Guangzhou di raro intelletto, Mei Zhaozhong, arrivò a scoperte analoghe. Passò dodici anni mandando di pochi istanti nel futuro sassetti del suo giardino e misurandone le apparizioni fino ad arrivare a capire con buona approssimazione la corretta correlazione fra coordinate temporali e spaziali. I suoi studi furono bruscamente interrotti da una malattia debilitante. Allo stremo delle forze decise di visitare il futuro nel poco tempo rimastole e si materializzò nel mercato del pesce di Huanan nel dicembre 2019, dove riuscì appena a guardarsi intorno prima di spirare circondata da una folla di curiosi che iniziarono ad avere sintomi febbrili qualche giorno dopo.

La quarta macchina del tempo fu costruita nel 1997 da Roberto Saluzzi, un dottorando del dipartimento di fisica e astronomia dell’università di Padova. Scoprì mentre ne stava ultimando la messa a punto che non gli sarebbe stata rinnovata la borsa di studio per l’anno successivo e considerazioni di carattere personale sopravanzarono quelle di ricerca accademica: usò la sua creazione per andare nel 1969 e gambizzare quello che sarebbe poi diventato il coordinatore dei corsi di dottorato di ricerca (evento che fu erroneamente attribuito a moventi politici); utilizzò poi la sua istruzione avvantaggiata per fare a sua volta carriera accademica. Evitò accuratamente ogni rischio di incontrare sé stesso nel timore di creare un paradosso temporale fino ad un preciso giorno del 1997, arrivato il quale tornò al suo vecchio appartamento immaginandoselo deserto con la macchina del tempo appena utilizzata. Lo trovò invece occupato da tre albanesi e si interrogò se questo andasse a conferma dell’esistenza del multiverso o del fatto che si fosse in qualche modo rintanato in un mondo di sua invenzione (dubbio per la verità che attanaglia chiunque prima o poi) e abbandonò ogni studio nel campo per darsi ai tornei di burraco.

La quinta e ultima vicenda vide come protagonista Aidana Komi, un’anziana professoressa dell’università di Tirana che dopo aver realizzato il suo dispositivo nel 2023 venne assalita da sensati timori di alterazione del continuum. Decise quindi di alimentare un’intelligenza artificiale dandole in pasto un quantitativo ingente di libri di storia e quotidiani interrogandola su quale sarebbe stato il viaggio temporale più utile per il benessere dell’umanità e imponendosi di seguire alla lettera la risposta, qualunque sarebbe stata. Il verdetto fu di recarsi a Padova nel 1996 e convincere il dottorando Roberto Saluzzi a cambiare appartamento. Aidana con qualche perplessità portò a termine il compito, approfittandone per collocare nell’appartamento rimasto sfitto un paio di cugini desiderosi di trasferirsi in Italia.

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[calcioshopm2c]

L'allenatore Erik ten Hag protegge Mauricio Pochettino dall'attenzione dei media

La squadra che ha ottenuto i risultati peggiori in Premier League la scorsa stagione è stata il Chelsea, e la squadra che ha ottenuto risultati scarsi a metà di questa stagione è stata il Manchester United. A causa delle recenti scarse prestazioni del Manchester United, l'allenatore della squadra Erik ten Hag è sotto forte pressione. Dopotutto, l'influenza del club maglie calcio rossa è troppo forte e la squadra riceve più attenzione delle altre squadre.

L'allenatore Mauricio Pochettino è alla guida del Chelsea alla sua prima stagione e incontrerà non meno problemi dell'allenatore del Manchester United Erik ten Hag. Ma l'allenatore Mauricio Pochettino ringrazierà l'allenatore Erik ten Hag per averlo protetto dall'eccessiva attenzione dei media. Il record del Chelsea in questa stagione non è stabile, ma la squadra ha dimostrato il suo coraggio anche contro squadre forti. L'allenatore del Chelsea Mauricio Pochettino è disposto a concedere abbastanza tempo ai suoi giocatori e spera che la squadra si comporti stabilmente in partita. Quando l'allenatore Mauricio Pochettino arrivò al Chelsea, la squadra non era in buona forma. Ora le condizioni del Chelsea stanno gradualmente migliorando e la prestazione della squadra ha conquistato anche il sostegno dei tifosi. Sebbene il Chelsea abbia deluso i tifosi perdendo contro il Newcastle United, la squadra ha sconfitto anche il Brighton. L'atmosfera nello spogliatoio del Chelsea sta gradualmente migliorando e i giocatori si capiscono meglio durante la partita.

Lo status dell'allenatore Erik ten Hag nello spogliatoio è peggiorato e vede alcuni giocatori esprimere insoddisfazione nei suoi confronti. Lo spogliatoio dove si trovano le divisa Manchester United non è migliorato molto, ma l'atmosfera positiva è scomparsa. I giocatori non erano fiduciosi a causa della sconfitta e l'allenatore Erik ten Hag non è stato in grado di fornire il miglior supporto tattico. Il Manchester United sta per affrontare il Chelsea, e i discorsi dei due allenatori dopo la partita hanno attirato l'attenzione dei media.

[gazeta24br]

É inconstitucional a instrução normativa do Instituto Brasileiro do Meio Ambiente e dos Recursos Naturais (Ibama) e da Fundação Nacional do Índio (Funai) que permite a exploração madeireira em terras indígenas. Essa é a análise da nota técnica da Defensoria Pública da União (DPU), que recomenda a revogação da normativa. A instrução normativa nº 12/2022/IBAMA-FUNAI foi publicada no Diário Oficial da União (DOU) na sexta-feira (16). Para a DPU, além da Constituição, o texto fere o Estatuto dos Povos Indígenas (Lei n. 6.001/1973), a Convenção 169, da Organização Internacional do Trabalho (OIT), estando, em sua integralidade, “maculada de inconstitucionalidade, ilegalidade e inconvencionalidade”. A nota técnica da DPU destaca que todas as riquezas do solo, dos rios, dos lagos existentes nas terras tradicionalmente ocupadas pelas comunidades indígenas não podem ser exploradas por não indígenas. “Para atividade de exploração de recursos madeireiros por não indígenas, não há qualquer possibilidade de autorização prevista no texto constitucional, ainda que excepcionalíssima”, afirma o texto. No documento, as defensoras e os defensores públicos federais apontam que a instrução permite a construção de obras de vultoso impacto ambiental e socioambiental, como estradas, pátios, ramais, pontes, edificações, sem prever a realização prévia de Estudo de Impacto Ambiental (EIA). A normativa também não exige a submissão destas interferências no meio ambiente a processo de licenciamento específico. Para a DPU, a Constituição é inequívoca quanto às consequências desta exploração indevida. A Carta Magna também protege as terras indígenas contra a ocupação, o domínio, a posse ou a exploração das riquezas naturais do solo por não indígenas. “Tal proteção se dá, dentre outras razões, como forma de garantir seu uso para a realização das atividades produtivas tradicionalmente exercidas pelos indígenas, que, de sua vez, são imprescindíveis à preservação de seus modos de vida, de sua reprodução física e cultural, sempre em respeito a seus costumes e crenças”, ressalta o texto. A nota técnica é assinada pelo secretário-geral de Articulação Institucional da DPU, Gabriel Travassos, pela secretária de Ações Estratégicas da DPU, Roberta Alvim, e pelo coordenador do Grupo de Trabalho (GT) das Comunidades Indígenas da instituição, Francisco de Assis Nascimento Nóbrega. Também assinam o documento os defensores públicos federais Rodrigo Collares Tejada e Wagner Wille Nascimento Vaz, membros do Grupo de Trabalho; Renan Vinicius Sotto Mayor de Oliveira, João Paulo de Campos Dorini, Frederico Aluísio Carvalho Soares, Erik Palácio Boson e a defensora pública federal Luciana Grando Bregolin Dytz, todos atuantes como pontos focais do GT. Leia e nota técnica aqui.

[cassidysanne]

THE PEOPLE ON SNOWPIERCER | FIRST CLASS (X)

[incorrectsnowpiercer]

LJ: My only crime was that I was down to clown

Erik: LJ, we murdered three people

[nbalog]

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[telenoveladamore]

//TUTTI I MORTI DI TELENOVELA D'AMORE NEL CORSO DEGLI ANNI (aggiornato ad oggi alla morte di Tini Light)

Kally Chiummi figlia di Max Chiummi, la prima moglie di Gianni Foresta morta di leucemia.

Davenigh Deacon che fingeva da anni di essere Anita Foresta (una figlia di Stefaliana ed Errico Foresta) presumibilmente morta in un incidente d'auto.

Slay Deveraux morto nell'incendio del suo locale dopo lo stupro di Jennifer Foresta.

Lorena Vanderwulf la bellissima modella della Foresta sgozzata dallo stilista folle Anthonio Armani ai fini di far incastrare Thot Foresta.

Say Fending il fido collaboratore di Sacca Specchio morto in concomitanza con la sua vita reale.

Adriana Arengo la ragazza di Dixon McCall precipitata dal terrazzo durante una colluttazione con Tina Mure.

Grary Chambelt, ex marito di Carmen morto di cancro dopo aver sposato Mary Alexandra.

Becca Mure la cugina di Tina e moglie di K.J. Garryson morta di cancro subito dopo le nozze.

Mary Alexandra ex moglie di Thot Foresta e moglie di Dixon McCall che già creduta morta una volta e "presumibilmente" morta durante un attentato mafioso mentre si esibisce nel locale di Oscar Marconi.

Mirko Foresta figlio di Gianni Foresta e Laura Humilton morto investito dalla madre ubriaca Laura durante una notte di nebbia mentre il ragazzo era in compagnia della sorella Claudia Foresta sulla trafficata Pacific Highway.

Linno McCrow ex vagabondo e unico testimone dell'incidente di Mirko Foresta è morto in un incidente stradale.

Leo Ligin fratello di Carmen, Lina e Angelica Ligin morto suicida per donare il cuore alla sorella minore Angelica del quale ferimento si sentiva responsabile.

Claudia Foresta figlia di Gianni e Laura morta in un brutto incidente d'auto durante una furibonda lita con Josh Foresta figlio di Carmen mentre si svolge il ricevimento di fidanzamento del padre con la stessa Carmen.

Annata Donglas morta di embolia a Malibu tra le braccia delle sue due figlie: Stefaliana e Pierina.

Bech Ligin, madre di Carmen, Lina e Angelica, moglie di Stephan Ligin morta in piscina annegata per raccogliere un centrino lanciato da Stefaliana Foresta dove Bech aveva cucito le foto della sua famiglia.

Stefaliana Donglas Foresta moglie di Errico Foresta morta di cancro tra le braccia della sua nemica Carmen Ligin.

Camilla Young figlia di Liam e Bethany Young, sorella di Sam, Allison e Sophia, ex stilista della Foresta ed ex ragazza di Louis Chiummi morta precipitata dal terrazzo durante una colluttazione con Serena Foresta.

Alexandra Foresta figlia di Thot Foresta e Veronica Celeste morta durante una colluttazione con Stefania e Serena Foresta, sbattendo la testa contro una roccia sulla trafficata Pacific Highway.

Sophia Young figlia di Liam e Bethany Young, sorella di Sam, Camilla e gemella di Allison, è morta per un colpo di pistola durante una colluttazione con Quinn Shiley.

Logan Shiley, fratello di Lisa e Quinn Shiley marito di Donna Foresta morto subito dopo le nozze, dopo il tentato stupro di Theresa Foresta.

Maya Carver la ragazza di Louis Chiummi morta strangolata con una corda da Samuel Young davanti agli occhi di Serena Foresta.

Bethany Young madre di Samuel, Camilla, Allison e Sophia Young, moglie di Liam Young, morta durante il matrimonio tra sua figlia Allison e Jake dopo una caduta di un grosso lampadario architettato tutto da Alisa che era intenzionata a distruggere il matrimonio.

Donna Foresta figlia di Jennifer Foresta e Dylan Shaw, sorella di Drew, Theo e Theresa, ragazza di Luke Chiummi morta durante una brutta colluttazione con Theresa Foresta sulla trafficata Pacific Highway sbattendo la testa contro il vetro del cofano davanti sfondandolo della macchina di Theresa.

Alexia Spencer la fidanzata di Adam Young morta di tumore al colon dopo aver partorito la piccola Emma Young.

Jason Cooper padre di Scott e Addison morto per alcuni colpi di pistola da parte di Ally James dopo lo stupro di quest'ultima.

Clare James, cugina di Ally James e fidanzata di Noah Chiummi, è la prima vittima di Brody Young uccisa con lo strangolamento.

Dave Milkon ex marito di Amanda Wood, fidanzato di Stephanie Young, padre di Jake, Ethan, Austin e Chad Milkon morto in ospedale dopo una caduta dal terrazzo della casa della sua ex moglie Amanda.

Amanda Wood moglie di Dario Milkon e madre di Jake, Ethan, Austin e Chad Milkon morta in un brutto incidente d'auto dopo l'esplosione.

Veronica Celeste ex segretaria e assistente fidata di Sacca Specchio, ex moglie di Thot Foresta e moglie di Philip Young, morta investita da Theresa Foresta sulla trafficata Pacific Highway durante una notte di nebbia.

Chad Milkon, fratello di Jake, Ethan e Austin Milkon, ex fidanzato di Stephanie Young, è la seconda vittima di Brody Young ucciso con lo strangolamento.

Hope Foresta figlia di John Foresta e di Abby Logan, sorella di Janet, Hayley, Cooper, Jared e Charlotte Foresta, moglie di Luke Chiummi, è la terza vittima di Brody Young uccisa con lo strangolamento.

Ryan Walter figlio di Matt Walter e Adrianna Gonzalez, fratello di Billy, Daniel e Shawn Walter, marito di Sabrina Specchio, morto tra le braccia del fratello Daniel durante il matrimonio di quest’ultimo per dei colpi di pistola da parte di Katie Wood.

Claire Horton la cugina di Jessica Horton e moglie di Cooper Foresta, morta per un colpo di pistola da parte di Rodrigo Wood.

Alex Gonzalez, fratello di Rafe, Xavier e Jan Gonzalez, marito di Jen Horton, morto per un colpo di pistola da parte di Rodrigo Wood nel tentativo di salvare la moglie Jen.

Kally Chiummi Jr. figlia di Kerin Chiummi, ex moglie di Josh Foresta e Gianni Foresta, fidanzata di Drew Foresta, madre di Donglas Foresta, morta a causa di una trombosi.

Erik Foresta Jr. figlio di Erik Foresta I e Shauna Walker, fratello di Brittany, Juliet, Mark, Aurora e Caitlin Foresta, marito di Viktoria Stevens, morto dopo le nozze dopo l’esplosione della sua auto con lui dentro a causa di Alisa Stevens.

Jayden Walter padre di Clay e Ronan Walter, fratello di Matt Walter, marito di Sabrina Specchio, morto durante una colluttazione con il nipote Vincent Walter cadendo dal terrazzo per colpa di Vincent della casa della moglie Sabrina Specchio.

Jane Milkon figlia di Dario Milkon e Taylor Wood, sorella di Jacob e Josh Milkon, la fidanzata di Adam Young morta in un brutto incidente d'auto mentre era in compagnia dell'amica Stephanie Young.

Emme Barton la nipote di Jame Barton, morta in un incidente stradale finita fuori strada con la sua auto finendo in un burrone per colpa di Drew Foresta.

Natalie Wood sorella di Raphaela, Nancy, Nora e Natasha Wood, la fidanzata di Rafe Gonzalez, uccisa con una bottiglia di vetro dal fidanzato Rafe Gonzalez dopo il rapimento di Jasmine Horton.

Adam Young figlio di Andy Young e Brenda Mitchell, marito di Sonia Evans, fratello di Nathan, Brody, Steph e Aiden Young morto sparato in fronte da Jake Milkon nel tentativo di salvare la fidanzata Stephanie Young sorella di Adam.

Aurora Foresta figlia di Erik Foresta I e Shauna Walker, la fidanzata di Noah Chiummi, morta pugnalata da Rey Donovan.

Hayley Foresta, figlia di John Foresta e Abby Logan, ex moglie di Luke Chiummi e moglie di Luca Chiummi, morta bruciata viva e nuda legata ad un albero da parte di Rey Donovan.

Belle Chiummi figlia di Noah Chiummi e Quinn Shiley, morta in tenera età investita accidentalmente per sbaglio dallo zio Lucas Chiummi.

Charlotte Foresta Young figlia di John Foresta e Abby Logan, moglie di Nathan Young, morta nel sonno per un arresto cardiaco.

Alisa Stevens figlia di Justin Stevens e Ava Halls, ex moglie di Scott Cooper e moglie di Shawn Walter, che già creduta morta una volta e presumibilmente morta nella vasca affogata uccisa dalla perfida e psicopatica Joss Foresta.

Jasmine Horton Chiummi figlia di Julian Horton e Jackie Malloy, ex moglie di Daniel Walter e moglie di Luke Chiummi, morta suicida per donare il cuore al fratello maggiore Jeff della quale ferimento si sentiva responsabile.

Taylor Wood Milkon la figlia di Rodrigo Wood, moglie di Dario Milkon morta di tumore al pancreas subito dopo le nozze.

Clara Light Young figlia di Owen Light e Quinn Shiley, moglie di Brody Young morta di avvelenamento da parte di Joss Foresta poco dopo le nozze.

Lucas Chiummi figlio di Louis Chiummi e Annie Cup, ex marito di Ally James, ex marito di Serena Foresta e marito di Theresa Foresta, morto sotto alle macerie dopo l'esplosione di casa Chiummi per colpa di Quinn Shiley.

Krystal Horton figlia di Jason Horton e Clarissa Taylor, la fidanzata di Kyle Avery, morta uccisa dai mafiosi.

Kyle Avery il fidanzato di Krystal Horton, morto ucciso dai mafiosi.

Tim Sawyer l'ex psichiatra di Joss Foresta, morto per un colpo di pistola da parte di John Foresta per legittima difesa.

Dinni Dinto marito di Nicole Gonzalez, morto dopo le nozze con una sparatoria in gola da parte dello psicopatico Scott Ligin.

Jeff Horton figlio di Julian Horton e Jackie Malloy, ex marito di Theresa Foresta e marito di Viktoria Stevens, morto di arresto cardiaco (cede il cuore che gli aveva donato sua sorella Jasmine Horton) a seguito ad un litigio e scontro verbale con il suo ex migliore amico Cooper Foresta.

Amelia Wood Young figlia di Rodrigo Wood e moglie di Andy Young, morta suicida in un brutto incidente stradale d'auto dopo l'esplosione.

Nadya Foster Foresta la moglie di Jason Foresta morta sbattendo la testa su un masso di pietra uccisa dal marito Jason Foresta nel tentativo di salvare il fratello Cooper Foresta dalle grinfie di Nadya.

Sarah ex stagista della Foresta uccisa da Ally James per legittima difesa dopo il rapimento di Theresa Foresta.

Vince Walton migliore amico di Drew Foresta, morto suicidato.

Mark Martinez il figlio di Raul Martinez e Ariana Madley, morto ucciso da Jos Ryder dopo aver tentato di stuprarla.

Tini Light la figlia di Brad Light e Tania Robinson, la fidanzata di LJ Shiley, morta con un colpo di pistola in fronte da parte del cognato psicopatico AJ Young.

[hkdrseru]

los debería haber solucionado con Ainge

Los Knicks comenzaron el encuentro dominando la escena. Un Calderón soberbio en la dirección y el tiro recordó a los Mavericks cuánta inteligencia habían perdido en el campo sin el espaol. Demostrando ser la mejor arma ofensiva de su equipo por tiro (21 puntos en 7 triples) y asombrando por su capacidad de tomar decisiones en los momentos más complejos de un

pantofi sport cu scai barbati

partido, José Manuel Calderón dejó helados a los 20.352 espectadores que llenaron el American Airlines camara sony cybershot dsc w810 Center con dos canastas triples consecutivas. In Eurocup passata l'Unicaja Malaga di coach Joan Plaza, l'anno scorso in Euroleague, che ha vinto le due gare di semifinale di questa settimana, prima a Krasnodar e poi in casa al ritorno con 22 punti del serbo Nemaja Nedovic. pantaloni elisabetta franchi saldi Se l' vista brutta l'Hapoel Gerusalemme contro il Valencia. Sotto all'inizio del quarto tempo, un parziale di 26 9 ha premiato la squadra di Simone Pianigiani. Sin embargo, los problemas que tuvo con Ainge, los debería haber solucionado con Ainge, no metiendo en el medio a los aficionados (mintiendo), ni tirando púas a Rivers (también, mintiendo) y demás historias. Btw En aquel verano, Danny le ofreció la posibilidad de vetar cualquier pantofi sport tip soseta dama traspaso en el que se le incluyese (ergo no hubiera tenido problemas de trades, tal y como sealas), y 12 millones en Mens ADIDAS ORIGINALS dos aos (más de lo que le ofrecía cualquier equipo). Por su parte, Allen pidió 29 'kilos' en dos aos (14'5 por curso; más de lo que percibe KG por temporada). "Había mucho talento en los Blazers esa temporada, por lo que Fernando no jugó mucho. Pero Fernando podía jugar en la NBA. Realmente podía. No merece la pena entretenerse mucho más para alabar el trabajo de Julio que ha terminado en una obra especialmente actualizada en el conocimiento de esta materia y que carece de defecto alguno. Antes de despedirme hacer mención a los dos grandes teloneros que acompaan a Julio Basulto en "Mamá come sano". Se trata del prólogo a cargo del pediatra Carlos González (superlativo) y el epílogo de la mano de Eva Hache (estupendo).. Las circunstancias del partido, el juego del equipo, son las que hacen que los números sean unos u otros. Los que se juegan los balones son Carmelo, Porzingis, Afflalo, . Las circunstancias del partido, el juego del equipo, son las que hacen que los números sean unos adidas stan smith j white tactile blue u otros. Y manu tiene en su mismo equipo un no norteamericano mejor y mas importante en el equipo que el como es parker. Por no hablar de petrovic o de sabonis que estando viejo y cojo marcaron epocas en la NBA. O esque creeis que en 10 a vamos a decir los spurd de manu? no van a se los de duncan, pero los netes si eran los de petrovic novostil Veo que sigue la discusion que instaure ayer , en el futuro seguramente no diran los Spurs de Manu , sino que diran los Spurs de Duncan ,eso puede ser , pero los Nets de Petrovic que ganaron? Drazen era excelso , pero su gran fama se debe a su triste muerte . The problem, of course, is that you also have to play defense in the NBA. Few people who've watched Jennings and Ellis over the course of their careers would mistake them for quality defenders at the guard spots they're fast and active and they try hard, but they're not, strictly speaking, good at it. As a result, and as you might expect, the stats say that while the Bucks were running mini melissa picole vidro and gunning with that duo in the backcourt, Milwaukee's opponents saw a pretty big offensive uptick, too.. El Desafío de Habilidades consagró al base que menos asiste de la Liga, Patrick Beverley (Rockets), que pasó por el Olympiacos y también jugó en Rusia. Normal que no acertara con el objetivo de pase, pero sí con el triple cada vez que llegaba. John McEnroe, sentado junto a Spike Lee, no protestó.. Two years later, mini melissa picole vidroJason Pierre Paul has come a long wayTwo years ago today, Giants defensive end Jason Pierre Paul started the day with a van full of fireworks. The stunning news of the Pierre Paul fireworks mishap led to a variety of story lines, from a stubborn resolve to return to dominance (he has) to a lawsuit against ESPN and Adam Schefter for invasion of privacy arising from the publication of medical records relating to the amputation procedure (the case was settled). The final kilometers at the end of the fourth stage of the Tour de France were expected to be exciting and potentially dangerous, but once the lead riders cleared two sharp turns it was expected to just be a sprint to the finish. Te daba la razón , pero me lo han borrado :O. Bueno, repito más corto a ver:

zapatillas estilo valentino

creo que sí que influye que Mark sababa mucha ventaja ahí. Pero no es lo mismo un mismatch con Mark Jackson, o con JoJo frente nike air max ireland a Derozan este ao, por ejemplo, que con Jordan Crawford. A toro pasado se puede decir que porque no cogieron a faried, thompson, vucevic, kanter, leonard. Pero en ese momento era un jugador que si no lo elige minny lo hubieran cogido muy posiblemente utah o cleveland que venían detrás. Williams en ese draft impresionaba por tener un físico y atletismo espectacular, combinado con su buena mano. Despite dropping a game to the New York Knicks, the Miami Heat were the blowout kings of the postseason's opening round. Erik Spoelstra's team rolled up a +70 point differential in their five game series against the Knicks, posting an average margin of victory of 18 points that outstripped their fellow advancers, including Western Conference sweepers San Antonio (+64 against the Utah Jazz for an average margin of 16 points) and Oklahoma City (+26 over the Dallas Mavericks, average margin of 6.5 points). Miami won three of the four meetings between the two squads during the season, including a 38 point drubbing in the first week of January and a 15 point road win on Valentine's Day that wasn't as close as the final score..

[hwfarm]

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[calcioshopm2c]

FC Bayern Monaco e Manchester United hanno lo stesso obiettivo

Questa stagione ha raggiunto il momento più critico, l'FC Bayern Monaco e il Manchester United attribuiscono importanza al record di campionato. Sebbene entrambe le squadre abbiano principalmente maglie calcio rosse, giocano in due campionati diversi. La cosa più importante per FC Bayern Monaco e Manchester United al momento è che devono qualificarsi per la UEFA Champions League la prossima stagione.

La corsa alle semifinali di UEFA Champions League ha messo sotto i riflettori l'FC Bayern Monaco, che ha perso due turni contro il Manchester City. Il nuovo allenatore dell'FC Bayern Monaco, Thomas Tuchel, è sotto pressione e la sua tattica non ha aiutato la sua squadra a raggiungere le semifinali. E dopo l'andata dei quarti di finale di UEFA Champions League, c'è stato un conflitto tra giocatori nella squadra dell'FC Bayern Monaco. L'FC Bayern Monaco è nel momento più difficile della stagione a causa dei problemi nello spogliatoio della squadra che hanno condizionato l'azione in UEFA Champions League. Leroy Sané ha poi dichiarato pubblicamente di aver perdonato Sadio Mané per il suo comportamento impulsivo, che è stato anche punito dal club. Se il capitano Manuel Neuer non fosse stato assente per infortunio, non ci sarebbero problemi di conflitto tra giocatori nello spogliatoio da lui gestito. L'FC Bayern Monaco ha saltato le semifinali per la terza stagione consecutiva e attualmente è concentrato sulla vittoria della Bundesliga.

Questa è la prima stagione di Erik ten Hag alla guida del Manchester United, e il suo obiettivo è riportare la squadra in Champions League. Il Manchester United ha perso competitività in UEFA Europa League con i giocatori che soffrono di problemi di infortunio in mezzo a competizioni ad alta intensità. L'allenatore Erik ten Hag vuole che la divisa Manchester United sia visibile sugli spalti della UEFA Champions League la prossima stagione perché ha bisogno di mantenere il piazzamento tra i primi quattro della sua squadra in Premier League. L'allenatore del Manchester United Erik ten Hag vede l'onore del ritorno dell'AC Milan in semifinale di UEFA Champions League e tutto ciò che deve fare è assicurarsi il record della sua squadra in Premier League.

[aiph-daicerandomstuff]

Da-iCE LYRICS: you | CGM

With implied and literal translation. Based on my current Japanese level and research. This might change and be updated. PM me for mistakes/errors. Please put proper credits if you use.

you

ENGLISH TRANSLATION + KANJI + ROMAJI

From: FACE (2020)

Composer: Erik Lidbom; TAKAROT

Lyricist: Toru Iwaoka

A little bit of… A little bit of you…

~

The soft sunlight passing through the trees is leaving my heart defenseless

柔らかい木漏れ日が　無防備にさせる心

Yawarakai komorebi ga muboubi ni saseru kokoro

~

With only clumsy tenderness, it’s something warm I am getting familiar with

不器用な優しさだけで　温かくなれるの

Bukiyouna yasashisa dake de atatakaku nareru no

~~~~~~

The winds are yours that soothe me

風たちがそっとアナタの

Kazetachi ga sotto anata no

~

Even if it brings me misfortune

邪を届けたとしても

Yokoshima o todoketa to shite mo

~

There are no more words other than “you”

あなた以外の　言葉なんてもう

Anata igai no kotoba nante mou

~

This is not some kind of flowery words

美辞麗句でしかないの

Bijireikude shika nai no

~~~~~~

Simply, just you

ただ　あなただけ

Tada anata dake

~

Simply, just you

ただ　あなただけ

Tada anata dake

~

Simply, when you embrace me alone

ただ　私だけ抱きしめて

Tada watashi dake dakishimete

~

Don’t want to know more

知りたくないの

Shiritakunai no

~

For a simple goodbye

さよならだけは

Sayonara dake wa

~

Though it’s selfish of me, hug me

わがままも抱きしめて

Wagamama mo dakishimete

~~~~~~

Simply, just you

ただ　あなただけ

Tada anata dake

~

Simply, just you

ただ　あなただけ

Tada anata dake

~

Simply, when you embrace me alone

ただ　私だけ抱きしめて

Tada watashi dake dakishimete

~

The one I wish to know, even a little

知ってほしいの少しでも

Shitte hoshii no sukoshi demo

~

The one I want to feel

感じていたいの

Kanjiteitai no

~

Simply, just you

ただ　あなただけ

Tada anata dake

~~~~~~

Although, most of the time, I’m not good at lonely nights

苦手な青い夜　いつもの時間だけれど

Nigate na aoi yoru itsumo no jikan dakeredo

~

One thing I’m sure, now, I don’t want anything else

確かな何かなんて　要らないの今は

Tashika na nanika nante iranai no ima wa

~~~~~~

You’re all that is made red, it’s a secret but I pretend to be tough and close my eyes

アナタがつくった赤い　秘密も強がってつぶるわ

Anata ga tsukutta akai himitsu mo tsuyogatte tsuburu wa

~

You’re the first and you won’t be replaced

代わりじゃないけど　初めての時の

Kawari janai kedo hajimete no toki no

~

Now, let’s kiss

キスをしてよ今

KISU o shite yo ima

~~~~~~

Simply, just you

ただ　あなただけ

Tada anata dake

~

Simply, just you

ただ　あなただけ

Tada anata dake

~

Simply, when you embrace me alone

ただ　私だけ抱きしめて

Tada watashi dake dakishimete

~

Don’t want to know more

知りたくないの

Shiritakunai no

~

For a simple goodbye

さよならだけは

Sayonara dake wa

~

Though it’s selfish of me, hug me

わがままも抱きしめて

Wagamama mo dakishimete

~~~~~~

Simply, just you

ただ　あなただけ

Tada anata dake

~

Simply, just you

ただ　あなただけ

Tada anata dake

~

Simply, when you embrace me alone

ただ　私だけ抱きしめて

Tada watashi dake dakishimete

~

The one I wish to know, even a little

知ってほしいの少しでも

Shitte hoshii no sukoshi demo

~

The one I want to feel

感じていたいの

Kanjiteitai no

~

Simply, just you

ただ　あなただけ

Tada anata dake

~~~~~~

Alone in the room

独りきりの部屋は

Hitori kiri no heya wa

~

A premonition came to me, oh baby

胸騒ぎよぎるのoh baby

Munasawagi yogiru no oh baby

~

All my thoughts turn towards the sky

想いを全てあの空へ

Omoi o subete ano sora e

~

Entrusting, hoping only you

託して願うonly you

Takushite negau only you

~~~~~~

Simply, just you

ただ　あなただけ

Tada anata dake

~

Simply, just you

ただ　あなただけ

Tada anata dake

~~~~~~

Simply, just you

ただ　あなただけ

Tada anata dake

~

Simply, just you

ただ　あなただけ

Tada anata dake

~

Simply, when you embrace me alone

ただ　私だけ抱きしめて

Tada watashi dake dakishimete

~

Don’t want to know more

知りたくないの

Shiritakunai no

~

For a simple goodbye

さよならだけは

Sayonara dake wa

~

Though it’s selfish of me, hug me

わがままも抱きしめて

Wagamama mo dakishimete

~~~~~~

Simply, just you

ただ　あなただけ

Tada anata dake

~

Simply, just you

ただ　あなただけ

Tada anata dake

~

Simply, when you embrace me alone

ただ　私だけ抱きしめて

Tada watashi dake dakishimete

~

The one I wish to know, even a little

知ってほしいの少しでも

Shitte hoshii no sukoshi demo

~

The one I want to feel

感じていたいの

Kanjiteitai no

~

Simply, just you

ただ　あなただけ

Tada anata dake

~~~~~~

A little bit of… A little bit of you…

A little bit of… A little bit of you…

A little bit of… A little bit of you…

A little bit of… 

~

Simply, just you

ただ　あなただけ

Tada anata dake

[timebird84]

🎄 PotO Advent Calendar ‘19 🎄

The Christmas Rose

by @a-partofthenarrative​

"Papa!

The small, shrill voice startled him out of his focus and Erik lay aside his quill with a defeated sigh. “In here, ange.” A curly brown head and two sparkling eyes appeared in the doorway of the music room and the Opera Ghost suppressed a smile. “Shouldn’t you be in bed, Ariane?”

Those eyes blinked up at him as she drew closer, chewing thoughtfully on a lower lip. “Maman said I could have a bedtime story first.”

“Ah, did she now?” Erik straightened the pages of sheet music on the piano before leaning down so he met this new gaze at eye-level. “And does Maman plan to deliver on this particular request?”

A fierce shake of her head sent brown curls flying. “She said you would tell me one because your’re more dramatic.”

“Is that so?” he replied with a touch of wry humor. When he received another affirming nod, he could not stop the affectionate chuckle that fell from his lips. “Well, then I suppose I don't have any choice in the matter, now do I?”

HIs daughter only shrugged, studied him for a moment and then flounced from the room. Erik watched her go, then rose from the bench, ignoring the protesting creak and snap of his bones. He spotted his target as she rounded the corner into her own bedroom and followed suit, entering the small space as she hoisted herself onto the bed.

She met his gaze with a grin as he took a seat beside her, toeing off his shoes before stretching long legs out before him and his heart threatened to burst as it did every time she snuggled trustingly into his side. “Comfortable, ma belle?” When she nodded, he settled himself against her enormous stack of pillows- a habit encouraged by her mother, no doubt - and asked, “Very well then. Which type of story will suit your flight of fancy tonight?

Ariane looked thoughtful for a moment. "A romantic story." she said dreamily

Behind the mask, Erik arched a brow. "A romance?"

She nodded eagerly. "Yes Papa! A romantic story!"

His knowledge of those stories appropriate for a five year old was severely limited. "Alright. What would you like me to tell you? Cinderella, perhaps? Or would you prefer to hear Sleeping Beauty once more." HIs mind raced as he attempted to take inventory of other stories he had told her in the past.

Ariane shook her small head vigorously, ace scrunched in distaste. "Not those stories. A romantic Christmas story!"

"A Christmas romance on Christmas Eve. How unoriginal." Erik grumbled, but nonetheless pondered her request for a moment before a sly smile spread across his features. "Ah, but then I think I know just the story."

Ariane’s smile was brilliant. "What is the story about, Papa?" she asked as she yawned, but quickly covered it with her hand, hoping her father wouldn't see it. “Is there a princess?”

He had, but pretended not to notice. "No princesses, Aria. But there is an Angel," he began. "Now, this is a story passed on to me by a very reliable source. I say that because in all of my life, I have found very few of them. Therefore they few that I do meet, I trust with my very life. They have told me that this is a true story, full of magic and surprise, much like the fairy tales you love so much.” Pausing for dramatic (ha!) effect (Far be it from him to disappoint the girl, after all), he finished with a theatrical wave of his hand. “The story of The Christmas Rose"

"Tell it to me!." She gazed up at him with rapt attention in those deep amber eyes, so much another pair he adored.

He chuckled. "I am about to, my love." Mollified for the moment, Ariane relaxed against him as he closed his eyes. "Let me see now. How do most of your stories begin? Oh, yes. 'Once upon a time…'"

….......................

Once upon a time there lived a Man. This was no ordinary man, mind you. No, this man was an outcast upon the people. Abandoned at an early age, he had been forced to fend for himself, stealing when necessary for the sole need of survival. As he grew, he had been many places and seen many things, yet longed for the one thing that would make his life whole. The only thing he ever wanted or cared for in his life. He wanted to love and be loved in returned.

Hardly a request to yearn over, you say. Surely it was fulfilled with no remorse, you think. You are wrong. No one, not even the Man's own mother had ever shown him one shred of affection. Because of this, the many marvelous things he saw and experienced held nothing for him, for he had no one in which to share their beauty. 

Therefore, the Man became a recluse. He made his home where no soul would ever dare to look. He went without human contact for many years, relying on one person alone to maintain his knowledge of the outside world. In many ways, she became his mother and only friend and although he would never admit it to a living soul, he came to trust her implicitly."

……………..

"Pa-pa?"

A new voice caused both sets of eyes to fly open as a third member of the party toddled into the bedroom, pausing by the bed to pierce each of them with her best attempt at Erik’s menacing glare. “I wanna story too!”.

Ariane huffed while her father simply chuckled. “My humblest apologies, Sabine, ma fleur. How very foolish of me to begin without you.”

“Maybe I want to be a flower too.” Ariane huffed from his left side.

“Ah, but you are both the most exquisite of blossoms,” Erik soothed, lifting his younger daughter to join them. “And as there is plenty of room in the garden for a multitude of blossoms, there is also room for both of you at my side.”

Ariane blinked up at him as Sabine settled herself happily between Eriks knees. “She’s in your lap, Papa,” she deadpanned.

“All the same, my darlings,” he replied. “Now, as I was saying…”

……………………………..

Years went by. Many things changed, yet the Man's life remained exactly as before. Until one day, that is. 

 One day, something happened that would change his life forever, both for the good and the bad; Something that he would never forget.

The Man fell in love.

How could that possibly be bad, you ask? I will tell you. The Man did not fall in love with just anyone. He fell in love with an Angel with a heavenly voice. The Man trained her voice, becoming her teacher and eventually her friend. Their relationship continued for some time, the Angel never knowing the depth of the Man's love for her. Perhaps it was his own mistake that he never told her, but as time went on, she found herself in the company of a handsome Prince.

The handsome Prince was fine indeed, blessed with wealth, beauty and influence. The son of a nobleman, he held the world at his beck and call. Surely he was perfect, much to the ire of the Man. The Prince was everything the Man was not and he was certain he could feel his Angel slipping away.. As such, the Man realized time was running out. 

Mustering all of his courage, he brought her to his home once more, where they had spent countless hours lost together in their world of music, he made his feelings known to her at last.

The Angel knew she had a choice to make. She held the hearts of two men in her hands. One she would take for herself, the other she would crush forever. Should she choose her handsome Price and live in luxury all her life? Or should she choose the Man, her teacher and friend who had given her his greatest gift he had to give? Oh, how she agonized over the choice, but she knew it had to be made and finally, it was.

She chose her handsome Prince.

…...........................................................

“I don’t like this story.”

Erik glanced down only to be met with Ariane’s disapproving frown. “That’s a bit presumptuous, don’t you think?”

When she only shrugged, he shifted attention to his youngest. “And you, Sabine? Will you also pass judgement so quickly?” 

Gemstone eyes under a mop of black curls in his lap tipped up to look at him, then found the sour face of her elder sister, sealing her opinion in the like. “No good, Papa,” was her solemn reply.

“Perhaps the both of you have a few too many of my genes” he muttered, sotto voce before forcing the brightness back into his voice. “What if I were to tell you that this is only the beginning?”

Ariane ached a brow. “Then there is a happy ending?”

“I’ve yet to find a Christmas romance that did end that way.”

She waved a careless hand, a gesture that should be well beyond her half-decade of life. “Then keep going. I trust you, Papa.”

Erik pressed his lips together, just for a moment. “As you wish.”

…...................................................

Needless to say, the Man's heart was broken beyond repair. The one chance in his life he had ever found to love and be loved had been ripped from his hands and with it, his hopes destroyed. Unable to stand the thought or sight of the Angel with her Prince, he left the country at the first available opportunity and went as far as he was able in order to forget any shred of hope he may have once had.

As is its way, time passed. The Man, unable to stay in one place for very long, had spent that time moving from place to place, finally beginning to heal from his emotional wounds. He still loathed human contact of any time, unable to trust anyone after what had happened. After months of aimless wandering, he finally returned to the country where he had spent most of his life and was shocked at what he found upon his arrival.

A new scandal had arisen- the talk of the town, if you will..The Angel had left her Prince! Some said his family drove her away. Others said she was in love with a ghost. Still others said she had led him on from the beginning. The rumors were everywhere. For a split second, hope sparked somewhere in the depths of the Man’s icy soul. Could he have a second chance at what he had longed for all of his life? Could he risk his heart again? The questions hounded him as he walked through the streets.

Upon reflecting on his past, the Man decided against it. He had been burned before; he would not be burned again. He shut himself away just as he had in the early part of his life, not that he was old now. He turned away anyone who attempted to see him, including the Woman, his sole friend who had been his contact to the outside world. His heart could not take another rejection. He would surely die if it were to happen once more and it was not a risk he was willing to take.

….................................................

“...Are you absolutely sure it gets better?” Ariane’s tone indicated she was not holding out much hope for her promised happy ending and even Sabine looked doubtful as she peered up at him.

“Trust me, bel anges” he murmured, working very hard to suppress the smile that seemed almost second nature these days. “Have I ever disappointed you before?”

Ariane tossed another doubtful glance at her sister, but blinked up at him expectantly. Erik sighed, knowing that was as much of an answer that he was going to receive and continued...

…............................................................

The Man had a visitor one day. It was the Woman who had been his only friend the majority of his life. At first, he would not allow her entrance to his home, but she stood her ground, threatening to bodily break in if necessary. Not wanting to be responsible for the injury of an old woman, he finally relented and allowed her to enter.

She seated herself in his parlor and asked him where he had been all of those months. He did not reply, but she was not swayed. You see, this Woman had the ace in the proverbial card game. She was also like a mother to the Angel. The girl had been orphaned at an early age and the Woman and her daughter had taken her into their lives and now, their home. The Woman smiled at the Man and invited for Christmas Day as it was the next day and he had no where to be.

At first the Man balked at her invitation, flatly refusing any and all offer of hospitality. The Woman let him rant and sulk, staring at him with pursed lips and calculating eyes. It was only when he fell silent that she seized the opportunity to play her ace.  She proceeded in inform him that the Angel would also be present for the holiday festivities. Again the Man refused, knowing that the sight of her would only deepen the pain in his heart that he had dedicated his life to forgetting. To see her again would be his undoing. 

Once again, Woman listened quietly before giving her reply. Once he had finished, she took the opportunity to verbally thrash him within an inch of his life. She told him of the Angel. How she thought that the Man was dead, how she had only ever really loved him; that being the reason she could not bring herself to marry the Prince. 

The Man had not weakened. If she had truly loved him, why did she choose the Prince? The woman was quiet for a moment. She then answered that the Angel had been horribly confused in her situation. A heart cannot be forced to choose, nevermind choosing wisely in the short amount of time that she had been given.

With a glare, the Woman stood, ready to take her leave, but advised him at this point in the road, he had two choices. He could put his foolish pride on the shelf and take a chance of love again or he could feel sorry for himself, stay put and rot away with no one to share his life with. The choice was his and his alone. 

He sat in silence as the Woman brushed past him and left his house without a word. Her words had left him speechless. Had she truly cried when she thought him dead? She loved him enough to leave the prince, even with him supposedly dead? He knew he had to make a choice. He wanted to be with her, yes, but he was a proud man. Not someone to easily admit his mistakes.

And yet...

With a resigned sigh, his choice was made. To hell with his stubborn pride. All that mattered now was getting to the Angel. 

Bursting from his chair, the Man made his way to the desk. Sitting down once more, he took out a piece of paper and penned a letter to the angel. Securing his cloak, he made his way to the Woman's house and sought out the Angel's room. It was late at night and he knew she would be sleeping. Very quietly, he snuck into her room and placed the letter and a snow-white rose on the vanity and took his leave.

…………….

“Papa, down!” Sabine’s slaps to his thighs broke the spell. “Milk!”

“You want milk?” Erik clarified as her small head bobbed vigorously. “Very well. Let me just..”

“No, Papa” She stopped him with another light slap to his leg. “I get. Be right back”

“Oh…” He watched, stupefied as she carefully slid out from between his legs, off of the bed and scampered down to the kitchen. 

At his side, Arine let out an impatient groan. “She always has to run off during the good parts!”

“I’m sure she’ll return in no time,” he placated, taking the opportunity to squeeze his oldest a bit tighter. “But it is good to see I’ve managed to win you over, hmmm? Ah, here she is now.”

“Hurry up, Saby,” Arine whined, but took the cup so her sister could settle herself again. With the younger girl sipping contentedly and the older nearly bursting with anticipation, Erik allowed himself a knowing smile as he brought his story to its conclusion.

………………...

The next morning, the Angel awoke. She was not very cheerful, as it was Christmas, yet she had no reason to celebrate. She stretched and her gaze fell on her vanity, where she saw what the man had placed there the night before. She leapt from the bed, ran to the vanity and carefully picked up the rose. She breathed in its scent, closing her eyes to savor its sweetness. The Angel then picked up the letter, searching and scanning every line for his words until she saw his instructions directing her to the parlor.

Quickly throwing on a robe, she flew down the stairs and into said parlor where Woman and her daughter sat, their faces bright with conspiratorial smiles. The Angel blinked, perplexed. She knew the handwriting of the letter, yet saw no one else in the room. Her eyes flicked around the space for a moment before questioning the woman as to the purpose of the letter. The woman did not answer didn't answer, only handed the Angel another letter bearing the same seal.

The Angel quickly tore open the second missive, eyes moving furiously over the parchment. This one instructed her to go into the garden. Not even thinking to change out of her nightclothes, the Angel threw on boots and an overcoat and hurried as fast as her legs would carry her. She reached the garden, panting heavily from the run. Glancing around frantically for any sign, her gaze finally settled on the willow tree at the far end of the yard.

Under the tree stood the Man, waiting patiently for the Angel- his Angel- to take notice to him. The Angel's face broke into a large smile as she raced to the Man, launching herself into his embrace. To a casual observer, it was quite a contrast: she in her nightgown, he in the finest of evening wear, yet neither cared. 

The Man gently set the Angel back on her feet and reached into his coat. Out of his coat he pulled a rose as red as blood and her eyes widened. He told her it was a very special rose indeed: A Christmas Rose that would bring a great happiness to whoever received it- if it were accepted with an open heart. Speechless, she took it from him with tears in her eyes.

Before she could embrace him again, he reached once more into his coat and withdrew a small box. Inside that box was the most beautiful ring she had ever seen. Right there in the snow, the Man dropped to bended knee and asked for her hand. The Angel’s reply was to leap into his arms, knocking him flat on his back in the snow. As she kissed him, then and there he knew his life had at last changed for the better. And oh, yes. What is that you say? They did indeed live happily ever after."

………………………....

"And that, my dears, is the story of the Christmas Rose. It is a fantastical tale of pure love with no-" Erik stopped mid-sentence when he failed to hear the twin sighs of happiness that usually accompanied one of his stories. “Girls?” It was only then that he glanced down to find both of his daughters sprawled against him, fast asleep and looking quite content. 

The masked man chuckled and, after carefully extracting himself,  pressed a kiss to her Ariane’s forehead as he tugged the blankets to her chin. "Good night, ma belle.” Lifting Sabine into his arms, he carried her across the room, where he deposited her in her own bed, repeating the process as he had with Ariane.”And to you as well, ma fleur. Merry Christmas, mon chers."

Slipping silently from the room, he had barely set foot in the hall before he felt two small slide around his middle and a slight form settle against his back with a sigh. His long fingers twined with the smaller ones as if by magic and he chuckled slightly before advising. "Well played, mon ange.They’re finally asleep."

Christine’s soft smile was brilliant as he turned in her arms, enfolding her and knotting large hands at the base of her spine.. "It's about time. What kept you so long?"

Erik’s hold on her tightened. "Ariane insisted I tell her a story. An idea, I might add, which you aided those tiny imps in hoodwinking me.  But I suppose it is Christmas Eve."

She nodded, ignoring his jibe. "What story did you tell them.?"

He could not keep the wry grin from his face. "The Christmas Rose."

A secret smile spread across Christine's face. "Ah, I’ve always liked that one...and rather fitting if you ask me." 

Erik chuckled leaning down to steal a kiss from that upturned mouth. "As you say, love." Still, he followed her gaze to the shadow box that hung on the wall next to their wedding portrait- a dark mahogany framing Venetian glass that held two pieces of paper, written in a scrawled hand, as well as a handful of rose petals, a beautiful duet of blood and snow.

Christine glanced up at him, then tipped her crown against his shoulder, giving his waist a squeeze for good measure. “How long do you think it will be?”

Erik caught her meaning immediately and gave a helpless shrug. “Who can say?” he mused. “But something tells me the girls will come to realize, much sooner than either you or I could ever believe, that truth is stranger than fiction.”

[pangeanews]

“Quell’essere remoto in mezzo agli uomini”. La passione di Borges per Swedenborg, lo scienziato che parlava agli angeli

Che la visione abbia un’entità misurabile, che l’incredibile possa situarsi in barometri e latitudini era il vanto di Emanuel Swedenborg (1688-1772), che iniziò come scienziato e finì, in età – aveva più di cinquant’anni – mistico. Tentò la fusione alchemica tra Newton e Mosè, tra Cartesio e la cabbala: la sua opera – snobbata in Italia, esiste una edizione de La Vita Felice, 2012, Del cielo e delle sue meraviglie e dell’Inferno, il resto lo leggete qui – è una fonte inesauribile di ispirazioni, presa abitudine con il gergo angelico. Jorge Luis Borges, che nei Prologhi aggioga la sua introduzione ai Mystical Works di Swedenborg, ne era soggiogato: “Nessuno fu più diverso da un monaco di questo scandinavo sanguigno che andò molto più lontano di Erik il Rosso”. Consegnatogli – così scrive – leggendo Ralph Waldo Emerson, con una frase delle sue, in grado di dare eco all’ambiguo, JLB riassume la vita di Swedenborg: “Quell’uomo singolare e solitario fu molti uomini. Non disdegnò d’essere artigiano”.

*

Effettivamente, il genio di Swedenborg è lì: prima di artigliare i celesti e di dialogare con gli angeli, dominò il mondo sensibile. Si occupava di astronomia, di ottica, di orologeria – la misura, il numero, la lucidità lo affascinavano. “Progettò una nave che potesse solcare l’aria e un’altra, a scopi militari, che navigasse sotto i mari”. Fu fisico, sempre, più che metafisico, per questo, nella vita mistica, Swedenborg “rifuggì dalle metafore, dall’esaltazione e dalla vaga e focosa iperbole”. Per questo, soprattutto, affascinava Borges: saggiava l’enigma con indole geometrica (sapienza trasmutata da JLB in ambito letterario).

*

In una intervista a Christian Wildner – che leggete qui – Borges afferma: “ho in programma (naturalmente i miei vecchi progetti sono un po’ casuali) un libro su tre generi di salvezza, la prima è di Cristo, che è etica; la seconda è quella di Swedenborg, che è etica e intellettuale; e la terza è quella di Blake, discepolo ribelle di Swedenborg, che è etica, intellettuale ed estetica, e si basa su delle parabole di Cristo, delle quali dice che sono opere d’arte”. Nel suo ‘prologo’ Borges specifica: “Secondo i Vangeli, la salvezza è un processo etico. Essere giusti è la cosa fondamentale; anche l’umiltà, la miseria e la sventura vengono esaltate. Al requisito di essere giusti Swedenborg ne aggiunse un altro, da nessun teologo menzionato prima: quello di essere intelligenti”. In una delle sue vite anteriori alla rivelazione, Swedenborg disegnava mappe geografiche: credo non sia un particolare secondario.

*

William Blake fu discepolo di Swedenborg. Fino a screditare il maestro – pratica necessaria. In Il Matrimonio del Cielo e dell’Inferno (la traduzione è di Ungaretti). “Un uomo portava in giro una scimmia per mostrarla, e siccome era un po’ più accorto della scimmia s’insuperbì, tanto che finì col credersi più accorto di sette uomini messi insieme. È ciò che accade a Swebenborg: dimostra la follia delle chiese e smaschera gli ipocriti, al punto che arriva a figurarsi che tutti gli uomini siano religiosi e egli sia l’unico sulla terra che ruppe la rete. Ora udite, ecco un fatto evidente: Swedenborg non ha detto una sola verità nuova. Eccone un altro: ciò che ha scritto è il cumulo delle vecchie falsità… Gli scritti di Swedenborg sono dunque una semplice ricapitolazione di tutte le opinioni superficiali, e un’analisi delle sublimi, niente di più”. Lotta galattica tra eccitabili visionari.

*

In L’altro, lo stesso (1964), dove elabora una definizione scacchistica della poesia – “Senza leggi prefissate, opera in modo esitante e temerario come se camminasse nell’oscurità. Misterioso giuoco di scacchi la poesia, la cui scacchiera e i cui pezzi cambiano come in un sogno sul quale mi chinerò quando sarò morto” –, Borges dedica una poesia a Emanuel Swedenborg, “quell’essere remoto in mezzo agli uomini”. Impavido esercizio di imbottigliare una galassia, Borges riassume la teoria di Swedenborg in lirica (“Sapeva/ Che Inferno e Cielo esistono ma solo/ Nel tuo cuore”), la sua vita in un distico: “In arido latino andò annotando/ Senza un fine o un perché le cose estreme”.

*

L’esistenza letteraria di Borges è effettivamente tutelata da Swedenborg. Ne scrive, a braccetto con Adolfo Bioy Casares, in Libro del cielo e dell’inferno (1960); soprattutto, ne parlò in una conferenza del 1978, era giugno, all’Università di Belgrano, poi raccolta in Borges, oral (1979; esiste una antica e difficilmente trovabile traduzione italiana del 1981 per Editori Riuniti). Qui ne traduciamo alcuni tratti. Come sempre, si tratta di scindere il verbo dal cristallo – di accecarsi, insomma. (d.b.)

**

Swedenborg conversa con diverse persone in paradiso, e all’inferno. Così ritiene possibile fondare una nuova chiesa. E cosa fa Swedenborg? Non predica; pubblica libri, nell’anonimato, scritti in un latino sobrio, arido. E divulga questi libri. Così passano gli ultimi trent’anni della sua vita. Abita a Londra. Conduce una vita molto semplice. Si nutre di latte, pane, legumi. Quando un amico lo va a trovare, dalla Svezia, si prende qualche giorno libero.

Giunto in Inghilterra, voleva incontrare Newton, perché era interessato alle nuove scoperte astronomiche, alla gravità. Non lo ha mai conosciuto. Lo affascinava la poesia inglese. Citava Shakespeare, Milton e altri. Li elogiava per la loro facoltà immaginativa: ciò significa che era dotato di uno spiccato senso estetico. Sappiamo che viaggiando – in Svezia, Inghilterra, Germania, Austria, Italia – ha visitato fabbriche e quartieri poveri. Gli piaceva la musica. Era un gentiluomo. È diventato un uomo ricco. I domestici vivevano al piano terra della sua casa a Londra – la casa è stata recentemente demolita – e lo vedevano conversare con gli angeli e litigare con i demoni. Non permetteva che lo prendessero in giro; non voleva imporre le sue rivelazioni: semplicemente, cambiava argomento.

C’è una differenza fondamentale tra Swedenborg e gli altri mistici. Nel caso di San Giovanni della Croce, abbiamo vivide descrizioni di estasi. Leggiamo l’estasi narrata come esperienza erotica, attraverso la metafora del vino. Ad esempio, un uomo incontra Dio e scopre che Dio è uguale a lui. C’è un vasto sistema di metafore. Al contrario, in Swedenborg non c’è nulla di questo. La sua è l’opera di un viaggiatore che è stato in terre ignote e le descrive con calma e perizia…

Naturalmente, credeva nella salvezza tramite le opere. Nella salvezza tramite le opere dello spirito e della mente. Nella salvezza attraverso l’intelligenza. Il paradiso per lui è un paradiso ricco di conversazioni teologiche. Gli angeli parlano. Eppure, è un paradiso colmo di amore. Il matrimonio è permesso in paradiso. Tutto ciò che è sensuale in questo mondo è ammesso. Non intende negare o impoverire nulla della vita. Attualmente esiste una chiesa swedenborghiana. Penso sia da qualche parte, negli Stati Uniti: è una cattedrale di cristallo. Ha qualche migliaio di discepoli negli Stati Uniti, in Inghilterra (soprattutto a Manchester), in Svezia e in Germania. So che il padre di William e Henry James era un seguace di Swedenborg…

Infine arriverà William Blake, aggiungendo che l’uomo, per salvarsi, deve essere artista. In altre parole, abbiamo una tripla salvezza: attraverso la bontà, la giustizia, l’intelligenza; e poi grazie all’esercizio dell’arte.

Jorge Luis Borges

L'articolo “Quell’essere remoto in mezzo agli uomini”. La passione di Borges per Swedenborg, lo scienziato che parlava agli angeli proviene da Pangea.

from pangea.news https://ift.tt/3cekHSl

[convenientalias]

A prompt for POTO: something about Christine learning to love music again after the main events (let's assume it's hard for her to love it now because she basically associates it and her own musical talent with Erik). Can be gen, R/C or C/C.

It is 2 AM where I am but yes that is definitely a good idea. Thanks for the prompt!

Here, I cross-posted to AO3.

Raoul was never a good singer. Not that he was badeither; he simply lacked the training. He liked singing, though, would oftensing without really thinking about it, one reason he and Christine had gottenalong as children.

It broke Christine’s heart to tell him to be quiet.

The first couple times she simply asked him, and heobeyed with an embarrassed if slightly confused smile. The cabin they weresharing on the ship was small. He must have thought it was just her nervesacting up. Well it was, just not the way he probably assumed. She didn’t hatethe sound of his voice, but he’d picked up scattered tunes from the opera houseafter hanging around there with her too often. And she’d just run away from theOpera Populaire; why would she want to think of it?

When she finally snapped at him, it was because theexercise he was absently humming wasn’t just one that all the singers used butone that Erik had taught her personally. “Will you be quiet for once, Raoul?Dear God!”

Raoul was taken aback. And as was typical of him,rather than submitting to the appearance of anger, he instantly becamedefensive. “I don’t see that there’s any harm in my humming once in a while,Christine. I’m not that loud.”

“You’re not that melodious either,” Christine said. “You’renot a trained singer, so why play with scales? Don’t put on airs like you’reUbaldo Piangi.”

“There’s no harm in it,” Raoul repeated, crossing hisarms. “For that matter, why haven’t you been singing scales?Shouldn’t you keep up with your practice?”

“I’m not going to be an opera singer anymore,”Christine said, “I’m going to live in Sweden and be your wife, so what does anyof that matter?” When she saw he was taken aback, she said, “Fine! Keep onsinging. I’m going to get some air.” And she went out onto the deck.

They’d talked many times before about how she wasleaving Paris and her life as an opera singer behind. She’d always focused onthe life she would live instead: A peaceful life, in the land of her birth—certainlya more respectable one, having a husband instead of singing on stage for herbread, and the fact that the husband would be Raoul was something straight outof a fairy tale. And even more than that, she’d thought about the fact that shewouldn’t be afraid anymore.

But even out at sea, having left Erik far behind(even had he wanted to, he couldn’t swim the ocean and climb onto the boat,could he?), the fear had not left her. She found herself watching dark cornerscarefully, and starting at sudden noises. Other times in broad daylight herheart would race endlessly for no reason at all.

She didn’t mind talking about Erik, or the events ofthe past few months, with Raoul. They had talked about it often. It felt safe,somehow, to talk about Paris and Erik as if they were far past, now onlydistant memories to pick apart into little innocuous bits. But then he’d dosomething like a hum a line from one of the operas and she’d feel as if shewere still in her room at Mamma Valerius’s house, and Erik was somewhere justout of sight, listening to her recite and watching, always watching…

She shuddered.

Later she’d apologize to Raoul. And she’d explain,maybe. If she could. He always tried to adjust for her needs, so he’d adjustfor this odd one too. If only it didn’t make her seem so weak! That was theworst of it. Raoul could sing as cheerfully as he wished—she’d seen him singingalong with the sailors’ chanties, some of which he already knew—and yet she, aprima donna of the best opera house in France, could barely stand to sing anote without cringeing.

In Sweden, Erik should have seemed distant. Instead,he seemed closer than before. In Paris, she had known when to expect him—at homeand at the opera house mostly—and had had some sort of idea how to avoid hissight as well, even though it hadn’t always worked. On the ship, with landnowhere in sight, she’d felt somewhat separate from any mortal world. But onland and in a strange place, everything seemed dangerous. Erik might well beanywhere. Of course she knew he wasn’t. He’d said he was letting her go, andshe believed him. Her dear teacher.

Only, she could know he was nowhere near and stillbelieve he might appear at any moment at the same time.

Raoul had stopped singing when she was around to hear,which was most of the time. They currently were living in a house of the Daaes,small but decent, in separate rooms since they still weren’t married. Causing abit of gossip in town, but gossip hardly bothered Christine. She liked to thinkpeople might talk about her being involved in a scandal that had nothing to dowith murder or ghosts.

At home there was no music. When she went out,though, there was no way to always avoid it. Beggars singing in themarketplace, or sounds emanating out of bars and public houses. And then in herhead, she’d hear Erik’s critique.

“That man! Frogs sing better—no, that is almost acompliment—howling cats sing better. Can you believe he has the audacity to askfor money for that? He’d do better to stand with his hat in his hand and hismouth firmly shut. Now, dear, this is why I always tell you not to mistakevolume for quality—aren’t you glad for the tip? You’ll never sound like thatrogue, but only ever have a voice of the sweetest honey, singing the loveliestnotes. My voice from your lips.”

That’s why I don’t sing anymore, she thought to herselfonce, because he’s not here and he’s taken his voice back with him…

This frightened her in a whole new way. She went homeand tried singing scales, testing if her voice still worked. She found that ittrembled, but it grew stronger little by little. No, she still had her voice.But she could feel him, Erik, standing behind her, listening carefully.

Clapping broke out behind her when she finished herscales and she jumped, turning around quickly. It was Raoul, standing in thedoorway of her room with a smile on his face.

“I haven’t heard you sing in a long time,” he said.

She smiled nervously. “Well… I just thought I’d seeif I still had the knack.”

“Still have the knack! Darling, as if you could everlose it. You’re the best singer in the world. I love hearing you sing.”

Impulsively he hugged her. She hugged him back. Raoul…He’d been out in the garden, and smelled of dirt and labor, which was a littlefunny for a vicomte. His enthusiasm for her voice was reassuring in a way, oldand familiar. He’d always liked her music, after all, even before Erik.

Then he said, “You can’t imagine how happy I was whenI saw you singing at the Opera Populaire. I recognized you immediately with theballerinas, but when you sang I knew I had to get up the courage to go see you—youhad the voice of an angel.”

She stiffened.

He realized his mistake immediately. “Christine, I’msorry, I know—I didn’t mean it like that, Christine, I’m sorry…”

She pushed him away and smiled off his apologies. “Don’t.It’s me, I’m being ridiculous.”

The voice of an angel. Raoul had always loved hersinging, but now, she thought, it was ruined. Refined, of course, as Erik sawit, and as she couldn’t help but see it too. Everyone in Paris wanted to knowwho her tutor was. Everyone in Paris thought she was brilliant. But it was avoice somehow dirtied, too, perverted, no longer the voice Raoul loved, nolonger her voice at all, even if she could still sing with it. It was not hers.

She didn’t sing again for days. Yet, having sungonce, she couldn’t quite stop herself again as thoroughly as she had on fleeingParis. She sang quietly when no one was around, scales and opera pieces sotto voce. Dirty music withwhich she perverted her home, yet she loved it. She loved singing.

She’d loved Erik, for a while. But loving him hadhurt. She liked to think she didn’t love him anymore, and he had no hold onher. Yet there he was, in her beautiful, ugly voice. There he would be untilthe day that she died.

The one thing Christine regretted about leavingFrance was that she had left behind her father’s burial ground.

(There might have been other things she regrettedabout leaving France, but this was the only one she would admit to herself.)

She couldn’t head down to Perros-Guirec to visit hisgrave, so when the mood took her to pay her respects, she instead went down tothe seashore and sat on one of the rocks. Perros-Guirec, with its cold watersand pink granite, was not so different from here. It was a good place to mournand pray and feel her father’s presence.

“I will sing to you,” she said, when she had run outof prayers. She took a deep breath. “Gentle flowersin the dew, be a message from me, and to flow’r that is rarer, and moreprecious than you… though fair you be.”

Lines from Gounod’s Faust, from Siebel’s song. Howoften had she practiced this song, guided by one she thought was the angel ofmusic. And she had kept faithfully to her practice out of filial piety; herfather had sent him. Or so she had thought.

“How my life I surrender, with your beauty sotender…” She paused for breath. How out of practice she was, to need breath!And her voice was hitching. “How my life I sur…”

How she had surrendered her own life! And not to herfather’s wishes, nor how her father would have chosen.

She curled into a ball on top of the rock, knees pressedagainst her chest, and broke into sobs. Even here, trying to speak to herfather, she was faced with her own foolishness, with the tarnishing of herlife. Yet she would have liked to sing to him. He had taught her music first,had been her first teacher.

“I will do it!” she said suddenly. She got to herfeet. “He cannot stop me. I will sing for you, papa, like you taught me to do.”

The song that she sang then was nothing so refined asGounod. It was a folk song she had learned long ago, a song of a sailor lost tothe sea and his mourning wife who would miss him forever. She hadn’t learned itfrom her father, but somewhere else—in town maybe—but they had sung it togetherbefore. She sang it as well as she could, though the waves drowned out hervoice to some extent.

When she was done she stared out over the waters. Achill took her. It was bad luck to sing about drowned sailors when her ownRaoul was a sailor of sorts. Not that he was off at sea. He was safe at home.Suddenly she had the urge to go make sure, to be with him…

She blew a hurried kiss to the ocean and raced offdown the road back to her cottage.

Sometimes when Raoul started humming, she would stopand listen. He was not always humming songs from Paris. Some of the songs hehummed she didn’t even know, and she would ask him about them. He wouldapologize, and she would tell him not to.

Sometimes she practiced her scales and sometimes shedidn’t. Erik never showed up to scold her or praise her either way.

Sometimes she sang.

And one day in town she saw a violin in a store,selling for less than she would have expected. Though she and Raoul did nothave all that much money saved up, she asked if the store owner would take hermoney and give her a little credit. The Daae name was good in town.

She brought it home and presented it to Raoul withmuch ceremony.

“But Christine, I’m not in practice. I’m not really aviolinist anymore.”

“There are plenty of fiddlers around. I expect we canget someone to help you. Besides, you’re probably not as bad as you think.”

He placed the violin in the crook of his neck andraised the bow. Carefully he scraped it against the strings. She winced at thesound. “…I think it needs rosin.”

“I think I need rosin.”

“No, you need practice. But soon you’ll be playing aswell as ever. It will be nice to have music in the house again.”

He smiled a little sheepishly. “Well, maybe. We’llsee.”

Someday she would be ready to sing around him, too,maybe even around other people. It would come in time.

[auroraforesta-blog]

//BIOGRAFIA AGGIORNATA DI AURORA FORESTA.

Aurora Foresta è stato un personaggio della soap opera statunitense Telenovela D'Amore, interpretata da Caitlin Carver dal 2018 al 2019, anno in cui il suo personaggio muore pugnalata da Rey Donovan. Universo Telenovela D'Amore 1ª app. in 16 novembre 2018 Ultima app. in 28 novembre 2019 (morte) Interpretata da Caitlin Carver Voce italiana Sesso Femmina Professione Stilista della Foresta Modella della Foresta Parenti Erik Foresta (padre) Shauna Walker (madre) Erik Foresta Jr. (fratello, deceduto) Juliet Foresta (sorella) Brittany Foresta (sorella) Mark Foresta (fratello) Viola Foresta (sorella) Caitlin Foresta (sorella da parte di padre) Errico Foresta (zio) Johny Foresta (zio) John Foresta (zio) Stefaliana Foresta (zia, acquisita, deceduta) Charlotte Foresta (cugina) Hope Foresta (cugina, deceduta) Hayley Foresta (cugina) Cooper Foresta (cugino) Jared Foresta (cugino) Janet Foresta (cugina) Gianni Foresta (cugino, adottivo) Thot Foresta (cugino) Anita Foresta (cugina,deceduta) Kristel Foresta (cugina) Felina Foresta (cugina) Josh Foresta (cugino) Milena Foresta (cugina) Jennifer Foresta (cugina) Eva Foresta (cugina) Haley Foresta (cugina) Gina Foresta (cugina) Thomas Foresta (pronipote) A.J Young (pronipote) Logan Foresta Jr. (pronipote) Dylan Chiummi (pronipote) Donna Chiummi (pronipote) Arianna Chiummi (procugina) Melania Young (procugina) Jonathan Foresta (cugino di II grado) Mirko Foresta (cugino adottivo di II grado, deceduto) Serena Foresta (cugina adottiva di II grado) Stefania Foresta (cugina adottiva di II grado) Claudia Foresta (cugina adottiva di II grado, deceduta) GJ Foresta (cugino di II grado) Alexandra Foresta (cugina di II grado, deceduta) Drew Foresta (cugino di II grado) Theo Foresta (cugino di II grado) Theresa Foresta (cugina di II grado) Donna Foresta (cugina di II grado deceduta) Caroline Chiummi (procugina) DJ (figlio di cugino) Ligin Foresta (figlio di cugina) Immagine=

Biografia del personaggio Aurora Foresta è la sorella di Erik Jr., Juliet, Brittany, Mark, Viola e Caitlin. Le migliori amiche di Aurora sono Jasmine Horton e Francesca Walter.

L’arrivo a Los Angeles Aurora Foresta arriva a Los Angeles ed inizia a lavorare come stilista e modella alla Foresta. Aurora fa amicizia con Jasmine Horton. Aurora conosce Noah Chiummi che ha appena divorziato dalla moglie Cassie Gonzalez perché Noah l’ha tradita tante volte con Jessica Horton. Aurora si confida con la sua migliore amica Jasmine dicendole di essere interessata a Noah.

La relazione con Noah Chiummi Noah e Aurora iniziano una relazione che prosegue per tanti mesi.

L'incidente a causa di Alisa Stevens Aurora viene investita da Alisa Stevens che guidava la macchina mentre Aurora era in compagnia delle amiche Jasmine Horton e Francesca Walter. Aurora finisce in coma ma in seguito esce dal coma, guarisce per poi uscire dall'ospedale. La relazione tra Noah e Aurora prosegue.

La rivalità con Mary Specchio per Noah Aurora becca il fidanzato Noah Chiummi e Mary Specchio baciarsi e cosi Aurora intima la rivale di stare lontana da Noah. Noah finisce a letto con Mary Specchio la quale rimane incinta di Noah. Aurora perdona Noah e la loro relazione prosegue per tanti mesi.

La rivalità con Viola Foresta per Noah Viola arriva a Los Angeles e va ad abitare nella casa di Noah e Aurora. Viola cerca di sedurre Noah il fidanzato della sorella Aurora. Il triangolo Aurora-Noah-Viola prosegue.

La tragica morte La relazione tra Noah e Aurora prosegue felici e contenti. In seguito Aurora viene pugnalata e uccisa dallo psicopatico stalker e serial killer Rey Donovan prima del matrimonio tra Brad Light e Alisha Stevens. Il corpo senza vita di Aurora viene spostato e viene trovato da Brad Light e Alisha Stevens nella loro stanza della luna di miele. La morte di Aurora manda in disperazione tutti ma soprattutto Noah Chiummi che trova il corpo di Aurora sotto alle coperte nella camera da letto di Brad e Alisha.