#i miss the smithsonian and dc and travel

[needlesandnilbogs]

13?

“get to know you” ask game is whatever the last thing on this blog tagged “ask game” is lol (on phone can’t link)

13. dream place to visit?

I used to answer that I wanted to do research at the library of congress, but I don’t really have an answer now. I don’t like traveling and I don’t have anywhere I want to go right now where I haven’t been before.

I guess maybe Natural Bridges State Beach, which I haven’t been to since January and I missed this summer, or the Smithsonian museums which I still miss not getting to go through in detail on the DC trip in eighth grade, probably

[tatooedlaura-blog]

Little Gems

Hi all ... it’s been awhile ... but i just can’t leave Mulder and Scully alone for long ...

Sorry about that ... the kid has a new baking business she’s running out of our kitchen (she’s 16, btw) ... we COVID-quarantine finished our basement ... I rewrote my entire third novel ... I’ve had things to do :)

Love and hug and enjoy ...

@today-in-fic

&&&&&&&&&&

Little Gems

It was the look that made her stumble on her words, stutter through two syllables, hesitate on the third before rallying to pull herself back to the courtroom. Face flaming hot in an instant, she hid her clenched fists below the wooden barrier and carried on, trooper that she was.

His look.

In the middle of her sentence, she’d looked at him, the quickest of glances to see his encouraging lip twitch or the barest of nods … instead, she’d gotten popping jaw muscle, flaring nostril, and furrowed brow. She’d done her stumble because, without thought to present day for half a second, she’d rewound the past two minutes in her head. What the hell had she done to deserve that pointedly angry look?

For the next 43 minutes, she steamed slowly while her demeanor revealed nothing, back to calm, cool, collected, cadence smooth, sentence structure sound. Finally free, she moved past Mulder, dodging the crowd in the hall and slipping through his fingers as he reached for her arm, elbow, to turn her, yell at her for not saying some theory or other of his that would have gotten the case thrown out but allowed Mulder the righteous indignation of his truth.

“Hang on.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

&&&&&&&&

Continuing through the crowd at a pace not meant for five o’clock on a Thursday afternoon near a Metro station, she didn’t care that he’d driven her there. She didn’t care that her ring of keys was in his pocket. She didn’t care that her stomach needed food, her brain needed a drink, her sweet tooth needed several dozen peanut M&Ms. She did care that she had approximately $10 in her pocket, which was more than enough to get her home and she had no room for anymore cares at the moment.

She always knew that house key tucked and forgotten behind her badge would come in handy.

She would be seeing his ass tomorrow and not a moment sooner.

Mulder, on the other hand, stood there watching her storm away. Not quite sure why she was so angry with herself over a few misspoken words but the set of her shoulders and the way she threw out the ‘see you tomorrow’ told him if he did indeed see or talk to her before tomorrow, he’d possibly and probably walk away with one less appendage, be it finger or more important things.

Watching her until she disappeared into the Metro Station, he noted it contained a Blue Line so, knowing she’d get home via either Foggy Bottom or Rosslyn station, he let her go, knowing she had a key behind her badge and her emergency cash behind that.

His mind wouldn’t let it go, however. She’d been good. Damn good. Until her stumble, which, for reasons unknown to him, had made her angry. She had hesitated on two words, taken a quarter second deeper inhale than usual before she gathered and continued. He highly doubted anyone but himself had noticed but given it was Scully, she probably imagined she’d screwed everything up completely.

He chewed on this as he returned to his car, unhurried because, regardless of if he ran or crawled, he’d still be stuck in some kind of traffic between here and there.

&&&&&&&&

Scully, for her part, hated the crowds in the Metro, disliked strangers pressed this close to her, shuffled together with the unwashed masses of society, tourist and native alike, all collectively tired from their day and frustrated same as she with the swaying train and the endless wait to put on comfortable clothing and take a deep breath.

And it afforded her time to analyze Mulder’s look.

Which is exactly what she did not need at this point in time.

&&&&&&&&&&

Both moved several times during the evening to pick up the phone, find out what the other was thinking but in the end, Mulder fell asleep on his couch, worried about her, and Scully fell asleep on hers, angry at him.

&&&&&&&&&&

He honestly thought the next day would be okay. She would have spent the evening picking apart her testimony and should have, logically, arrived at the conclusion that she’d done nothing to hinder anything. He would be telling her that today when she walked in, deciding at 5:42am, while shaving, that a little reassurance would be an appropriate thing.

She walked in still irritated but hiding it … not so very well ... but well enough to return his greeting and nod when he told her she’d done fine the day before and not to sweat the stumble.

Her mug got set no so gently down on the edge of the desk , tea splashing out the sides.

All right.

Plan B.

Waiting until she’d wiped up the carnage of her very own personal DC Tea Party, he handed her her keys from the day before, “come on. We’re taking the day off.”

With a sigh, “we can’t.”

“After your stellar week with Kersh and Skinner, you deserve diamonds and ice cream. Come on.”

Fuck it. It was Friday. Why not follow? God know, she could just as easily be irritated with him outside as she could be in the confines of the basement.

&&&&&&&&&

“Are you kidding?”

“When is the last time you touristed DC? I mean, like, looked around and went to stuff and stared at it and read the little signs and learned something from what you read on those little signs?”

Another sigh, “it’s been awhile.”

“Then come on.” They walked over to the Mall, then Mulder tuned them to the Museum of Natural History.

Seeing the building and the crowd, “Mulder, it’s going to be packed in there.”

“Not where we’re going.” Up the steps, weaving through throngs in shorts and gym shoes, flipflops and sunglasses, they stood out like a tandem sore thumb, leather heels and barely there hose, Trinity tie knot and tartan pattern socks.

They drew more than a few stares. Thank God he’d left his suit jack behind.

Once they’d dropped the donation fee and flashed badges for guns, he led her past the dinosaur bones and then up to the second floor. Even though she wasn’t exactly happy, she had to ask, “um, you realize you passed the T-Rex, right?”

“He’s not going anywhere, Scully. I’ll see him on the way out.”

She hadn’t been to the second floor since, well, she wasn’t even sure what was on the second floor or if she’d ever been there at all, to be honest. Mulder turned her when they got out of the elevator and before she knew it, she was in a quiet area, glass cases surround her, a few people milling but the majority still downstairs with the bones and fossils.

“There’s nothing like the gem room in the morning.”

She fell in love as she took her first good look around. Minerals and elements and crystals along the walls, lights dimmed in spots, a sign for the Hope Diamond beckoning. Looking up at him, “how long has this been here?”

He laughed, quietly of course, because the area felt akin to a church or other place where silence and low murmurs were preferred over screaming children and echoing chaos, “the building, since around 1910, but the contents,” pretending to do some heavy math, using all his fingers and some of hers just for fun, “longer than that.”

Her crank meter dropped like a rock but some remained, “one day I’ll find you funny.”

Taking her elbow and feeling happy she didn’t jerk away from him, he led her towards the wall, “first, I’m going to take you on a tour of the blue section.”

“Are we dispensing with scientific names today? Will it be the green shiny ones and the square yellow ones and the ones that look like table salt but will kill you instantly if you ever tried to put them on a piece of corn on the cob?”

“One day, I’ll find you funny as well.”

They wandered in somewhat comfortable silence, sharing the oft-comment of ‘this one’s pretty’, ‘this one’s three trillion years old’ …

“Three billion, Mulder.”

“Once you get above a couple million, it’s all just really damn old and doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Are you sure you passed your science classes in high school?”

“Cute girls helped me cheat.”

She didn’t doubt it.

&&&&&&&&

Round about an hour later, while looking intently at the diamonds, Scully finally had to ask, her anger drained away, an empty hole left behind waiting to be filled with some kind of explanation. Standing beside him, hand resting lightly on the edge of the case, she asked in a soft voice, “why did you get angry at me yesterday while I was on the stand?”

What?!

“What?!”

“Right before I humiliated myself by not being able to say the word ‘epiglotal’, I looked at you and you were pissed at me.”

What?!

“God, Scully, no. No. I wasn’t mad at you at all. You were doing great.” He was leaning into her at this point, the intensity radiating off him enough to send world leaders to their knees in fear and her cheeks to warm at his proximity, “I wasn’t mad at you at all, I swear.”

Still quiet, “then what were you mad about?”

Talking at the glass but catching her reflection beside him, he felt like an idiot but didn’t think this was the time to attempt a lie, “um, the little shit paralegal behind me was whispering to his buddy about things he could imagine doing to you if he could get you alone in the closet in the hall for a few minutes.” She stayed silent as he stood there, feeling his stupidity growing in leaps and bounds, until he had to do something. Moving his hand closer, he reached out until he found her pinkie, hooking it with his momentarily, “I didn’t mean for you to see that. I’m sorry I messed things up.”

Sliding her hand out from him a second later, she moved it to his back, running fingers along the indent of his spine, up and down, down and up, stopping to palm his side before letting her arm dangle between them, “it’s okay. I’m just glad you weren’t irritated with me. I should have asked you sooner, I guess, instead of letting things fester in my head.”

Her touch sent his skin buzzing, his hand always on her back, but hers rarely on his, and he knew she felt his quick breath in but both ignored that for now, “just to let you know, I’d have throttled him had we not been sitting in front of that many lawyers and the judge.”

She finally smiled, the left side of her mouth turning up, “I’d have liked to have seen that.”

Going for broke, he moved his hand to her elbow, then slid it down, working his fingers into hers, as he leaned in a second time, a little bit closer, a little bit quieter, “jealousy is an ugly thing, Scully, let me tell you.”

“I wouldn’t worry too much about it.” Finally, finally, finally meeting his reflection, “I’m here with you, aren’t I?”

Now warm from head to toe, “since I’ve already showed you the diamonds, how about I go get you that ice cream now?”

“In a few minutes.” Wrapping her free arm around the one holding her hand, she whispered over to him, “I kind of like it here.”

[redwingsupportgroup]

TFATWS TIMLINE:

How long did the mission really take them.

—

this will be a long post exploring locations, times spent in travel, days/hours spent in every city and the overall count of days and hours spent on the mission.

I made this because I have no social life as a guide to any fan or fic writer interested in the accurate time line and hours spent in this show

(this will start from episode 2 of season 1 from the point the mission itself starts)

NOTE: this thread won't include the time taken from airports to the exact locations of where Sam and Bucky have stayed or action took place.

📍 AIRFORCE AIRPORT - MUNICH, GERMANY

there's two locations where Sam would have gone to, either the BARKSDALE airforce camp in Louisiana or JOIN BASE ANACOSTIA BOLLING in Washington DC. thus the trip to Munich could take:

first guess: Louisiana - would take around 10 HOURS and 56 MINUTES

second guess: Washington DC - would take around 11 HOURS and 30 MINUTES

📌 time spent in city: half a day. Sam and Bucky are able to pinpoint the flagsmashers location immediately with the help of redwing tech. They engage in a fight on top of moving trucks, later on they have a brief conversation with John Walker and Lemar Hoskins before heading back to their means of travel.

📍 MUNICH, GERMANY - BALTIMORE, MARYLAND

the trip would take: 8 HOURS and 55 MINUTES

📌 time spent in city: half a day. Sam and Bucky go to visit Isiah Bradley in his house after Bucky seems to believe Isaiah would be able to help in providing info on the super soldier serum the flagsmashers obtain. After the short visit, Bucky is taken by police for his absence from his therapy session. Sam waits until dark in the police station. They stay the night in US before taking off the next day, mostly in a hotel.

📍 BALTIMORE, MARYLAND - BERLIN, GERMANY

the trip would take: 8 HOURS and 47 MINUTES

📌 time spent in city: one day and a half (two mornings, one night). Bucky suggests going to Zemo for info on the serum, Sam agrees. When the pair arrive to the prison we can see the sun through the windows in the prison corridor. When Bucky takes Sam to meet Zemo after escaping it's around night time. The trio spent the night (mostly in an under radar motel) and took off on Zemo's private jet the next morning.

📍 BERLIN, GERMANY - MADRIPOOR

Madripoor is a fictional city located near Indonesia. I used Jakarta as the arrival point, the time for this one isn't accurate but the closest to realistic estimate.

the trip would take: around 13 HOURS and 54 MINUTES

📌 time spent in city: a day (half a night, half a morning). from Selby's club to Sharon's house to Negal's lab. I explained this here.

📍 MADRIPOOR - RIGA, LATVIA

again, Madripoor is a fictional location and Jakarta was used as the take off point. time isn't accurate.

the trip would take: around 13 HOURS and 6 MINUETS

📌 time spent in city: two - three days. Sam, Bucky and Zemo arrive to the city after learning the whereabouts of Karli and the flagsmashers. They settle in for an hour or so before visiting the camp where the displaced people Karli helped were. After Zemo announces that mama Donya's funeral will be held in the afternoon, the trio head to meet their info source and meet John Walker and Lemar Hoskins. Sam waits for the funeral to end and talks to Karli, things end in a fight and the serum is destroyed (but for one). The Dora Milaji come for Zemo, he escape. After their defeat John and Lemar have a heart-to-heart talk that results to John taking the serum. Karli calls Sarah and asks her to deliver a location to Sam. John follows Sam and Bucky, Lemar is killed in the camp. John kills a flagsmasher and it ends with Sam and Bucky fighting him and reclaiming the shield, all (presumably) in one day. It isn't stated after in the show how long, but Sam and Bucky took some time there, John was back to the US and taken to court (this couldn't have happened the second he landed, he had medical attention and was in his uniform). Sam and Bucky appeare to have stayed for a few days after the fact, long enough for the GRC to empty the camp. It could be anything from one to two days or three. They probably booked a hotel since Zemo's house was no longer an option.

📍 SOKOVIA Memorial

📍 BALTIMORE, MARYLAND

After Lithuania and reclaiming the shield, Sam and Bucky take separate routes and it's the first time they are. separate since the mission took place. While Bucky heads to the Sokovian memorial to fulfill his promise to the Dora Milaje and hand Zemo in, Sam takes off to Baltimore, Maryland to talk to Isiah Bradley.

This gap takes around a day and a half, Sam immediately goes to visit Isiah after landing since he says "I'm coming home." when he calls Sarah. In the scene where Sam confronts Sarah about her not telling him the boat won't be selling she mentions how sad he looked "yesterday" after talking to Isiah. Sam calls neighbors and friends to fix the boat and Bucky joins in.

Bucky spends two days (two days and one night) in the Wilsons house before leaving.

📍 NEW YORK

time spent in city: one night. the final fight against the flagsmashers.

📍 NEW YORK, BROOKLYN

📍 LOUISIANA, DELACROIX - BALTIMORE, MARYLAND - WASHINGTON DC.

Another time gap comes in between Sam and Bucky after their mission is done. This one could stretch from few days to two weeks.

Bucky sends Dr. Raynor a card saying "I finished my book." and I think this would take longer than a few hours or two days. all of the names were scratched off from the list.

Sam goes to Isiah in Maryland and asks him to join him in Washington, in the Smithsonian museum exactly where he shows him the memorial. Setting up a memorial and crafting the statute doesn't take a short amount of time, even as Cap, things like this take time.

–

FINAL NOTES:

Days spent in cities: 10 DAYS. This doesn't include the time post the mission (the list and the memorial period.)

Hours spent flying: 53 HOURS and 172 MINUTES (2 DAYS and 5 HOURS).

Places visited: 7 (Munich / Baltimore / Berlin / Madripoor / Riga / Louisiana / New York)

Hotles: around 3 hotels.

Other shelters: Sharon's house / Zemo's place / Wilson Family house.

——

this was all put by me, I may have missed an event, location or messed up a flight time duration. please correct me if you have better info on something.

hope this helps the fics in progress and be useful.

[anitravelz]

Follow me on TikTok @Ani_travelz

Next week I'll be going to New England on my latest trip. One thing that I'm keeping in mind while I'm there is that our founding fathers were not infallible and often times did really bad things.

A few years ago, I went to Washington DC for work. I had time outside of work to see some of the sites like the National Mall, some of the Smithsonian museums and even Mount Vernon. While I was at Mount Vernon, I did the tour including the slave quarters. It really made me think. Something that most people miss when talking about this time period is that there were abolitionists, there were people that thought slavery was wrong. Most importantly, the slaves thought it was wrong. Slavery has never been a good thing.

When I was in Puerto Rico, I made sure to learn about the island and its relationship with the US. This is a place in a grey area when it comes to it's identity. They should be given Plebiscite (basically given the chance to vote on their status as a colony, becoming a state or their own country.)

We are still doing bad things, as a nation and I think travel has really made me more aware of those things. I'm not saying we need to hang our heads in shame and feel bad. I'm saying we need to look at what we are doing, who we are harming and how it relates to our past and places. And use that information to do better. Things we did long ago are still harmful to people and by acknowledging it we can start to do better.

Happy Travel Everyone :)

[nonasuch]

I caught myself googling how far it would be to come to your store from Canada and... it could literally be a day trip or an overnight. I'm super excited by the idea, I miss travelling so much. As a nervous traveller, do you think your area is cool for someone not ready to take of their mask?

Good news: Maryland and the general DC area are pretty good places to not get covid! We still have a county-wide mask mandate in PG County, where I am, and so does DC.

Also, if you’re planning a trip here please do go to like. some museums. even if the big Smithsonians arent your thing. The Hillwood Estate has a 20s fashion exhibit on right now! And if you come in December, DC is hosting the Worldcon for the first time in decades.

[greyhavensking]

WIP Game

tagged by @possibleplatypus. thanks friend!!

List all your WIP titles, all meaning even the ones that are vague or nonsensical

Tag as many people as there are WIPs (yeah I'm... also not doing that for this lmao)

If you're interested in any of them, send an ask and I'll either give a snippet from the story or talk about it if I haven't written anything

I think I might've done this before? So if you see repeat WIPs that are still WIPs, uh. Be kind, please.

#LetCaptainAmericaSayFuck

Ace!Bucky and Not-a-Virgin Steve follow up fic

starlight, star bright

Deep Sea Diving (Deep sea merbucky)

King Steve and Merbucky sequel

Multiverse stucky

The Funkos Take DC (Night at the Smithsonian follow up)

Stucky mafia AU

Stucky coffeeshop/soulmates AU

Stucky OUAT crossover

Stuck time travel AU

Stucky vampire AU

Stucky: The Snap

Tangled AU

The People's Champion - Real Steel AU

Tales of Brookhaven: The Winter King (the furthest along of all of them!!)

a king and his captain (tales of brookhaven one-shot)

Soup Demon Bucky

Swamp snake merbucky (I'm counting this but it's all vibes and @possibleplatypus and I have been talking about it lmao)

the very best (Pokemon AU)

Stucky Madoka Magica AU

frankly I'm probably missing a few but most of these have at least something down, even if it's just a basic summary of the idea. as for tagging... @somanywords @thiccbuckybarnesfic @allegedlyann @thedamageofherdays no pressure of course!

[spencersawkward]

switchblade faith // spencer reid - chapter 3

summary: one month after joining the BAU, Clea is still settling in. between solving murders and getting acclimated to DC, the only comfortable thing in her life is her friendship with Dr. Spencer Reid.

word count: 4k

content warnings: mention of rape and victim-blaming (talking about Clea's previous job in sex crimes— not her personal experience).

masterlist

this chapter is drawn from the season 1 episode 17 episode "A Real Rain," which is supposed to be in New York, but I didn't wanna write about New York so I changed it to Boston.

I drop a second sugar packet into my coffee before taking a tentative sip. my face twists in discomfort. previous to working here, I would bring my own thermos from home and it would last me all day, but I've had to up my caffeine intake to two or three cups.

"you get used to it." JJ walks over to me, steeping her tea. despite the fact that it's early, she's perfectly put together. her hair is tied up and her eyes are sparkling.

"how?" I laugh. she points to the coffee pot, which is fresh and yet somehow tastes slightly stale.

"when you've been up for twenty four hours, you won't care how it tastes."

I avert my widened eyes at this.

"you could do what Spence does and just add a bunch of sugars." she tilts her head towards Reid, who is rocking back in forth in his spinny chair with a huge volume open in front of him. he doesn't even notice us staring at him.

"ew, what?" I giggle. JJ nods.

"hey, Spence!" she calls across the office. his head pops up to frown at us.

"yes?"

"how many sugars do you use?"

"five. occasionally six." he says this without a hint of the shame it deserves. my eyebrows shoot up and I take another sip of the bitter drink, trying to ignore the taste. it coats my tongue.

"see?" she smirks. "just so you know, we have another case. meeting in five." she sashays away to the conference room, leaving me standing there with an overwhelming urge to sweeten my drink. I keep it at three and add a splash of creamer to drown out the bitterness, then walk briskly to my desk to grab a few of my things.

"we have a meeting, Reid." I say across the divider between our spaces. he holds up an index finger, slams the book shut, and grabs his things. I wait for him to get collected before we head up.

"what were you reading?" I ask, peeking at his workspace. books are lined up against the divider, loose papers scatter the surface, and there are three uncapped pens littered about. his disorganization surprises me.

"War and Peace." he replies, checking his watch.

it's not even nine am.

...

I'm staring out the window of the jet while Morgan and Prentiss battle out yet another card game with Reid. there's not much to see until we slice through clouds and fly over Boston, which is glittering in the early light. I sigh and turn back to my book, tucking my legs up beneath me.

"this is not how I planned to visit." Morgan notes, looks through his cards.

"I'm looking forward to seeing Boston." Spencer smiles softly. at this, all of us look up.

"you've never been?" Morgan asks doubtfully. Emily snorts.

"we've never had an unsub there." Reid doesn't seem to think this strange at all. Morgan and I share a glance before he speaks.

"Reid, it's an hour-and-a-half flight."

"I'll show you around if we have some time." Emily smiles reassuringly at the boy genius.

"it's an easy trip, man." Derek chuckles. Spencer isn't bothered by our teasing. instead, he draws another card from the deck and focuses on his game.

"I've never been either." I state. the team turns to me with surprised expressions, causing my cheeks to flush.

"you, too?" Morgan makes a face like I've disappointed him.

"I've been meaning to go." I shrug. "there's an exhibition at the Museum of Fine Arts that I wanna see."

"what exhibition?" Spencer doesn't look up from his hand.

"uh, Titus Kaphar." I haven't had the opportunity to travel much, so a lot of the art I've seen has been from a computer screen or in class in college. it would be nice to actually get some experience seeing things face-to-face.

"Shifting the Gaze!" Spencer's face snaps up to beam at me, referencing the piece so vehemently that it makes me laugh.

"yeah, exactly."

"I went to his talk a couple years back."

"no way. really?" I shut my book and lean forward while he nods. Prentiss and Morgan are watching our conversation like a tennis match. while Reid rambles about all the things he heard at the lecture, I listen intently. it's good, because I don't really feel like talking right now; my head is pounding all over again, and this is distracting.

"do you ever go to the art museums in DC, then?" I ask once he's finished. Reid gets this crooked smile on his face like he wants to say a bunch of things, but is holding his tongue. his face is animated when he tells me about the other exhibits he's seen at the Smithsonian and apparently abandons his cards. Prentiss and Morgan have lost interest in our conversation; they start their own game and let us talk for the rest of the flight.

when we touch down, I immediately feel overwhelmed by the crush of people around us. our first crime scene is a taxi cab in Hyde Park, where the driver has been blindfolded, shot in the chest, and stabbed right through his ear. the blade, broken off from the handle, is lodged in his brain.

despite the fact that his kills are violent and seemingly random, the unsub definitely isn't disorganized. he carries his MO out the same way each time, which makes all of us question if we've missed a connection between victims.

"it's possible he's a sort of serial killer groupie." Spencer notes as he examines the inside of the cab, which is splattered with a mix of rainwater from the night before and blood. I shift where I'm standing to try to follow his line of sight.

"what do you mean?"

"Lawrence Bittaker and Roy Norris drove ice picks into their victims' heads and broke off the handle." he explains.

"well, if he's doing that, then he's presenting a mixed profile." I frown.

"exactly."

"mixed profile?" the police officer next to me asks.

"yeah. the fact that this guy is shooting his victims first suggests that he needs a quick and effective means of controlling the situation, which means that he probably doesn't think he can overpower them." I say.

"he could have a physical problem-- or maybe he's just not confident because he's small." Reid is still examining the taxi for any further evidence, but it seems sort of pointless.

"plus, he's organized and hunts at night. that tells us he most likely has a steady job."

"so," the cop stares between us with a perplexed expression. "we're looking for a small, angry white guy with a day job?"

the sarcasm in his voice makes me smile a little.

"I know it doesn't narrow down a lot right now, but we know that this guy isn't blitz attacking his victims. it's more of an execution."

the officer nods at this and my phone buzzes in my pocket. I turn to Reid.

"we gotta go."

Spencer nods curtly, straightens, and starts to immediately walk back to the car. I shake my head at his behavior, then follow after.

...

we get called to visit a new crime scene in the morning, this time in a church. Hotch holds the door open for me and I walk in to see a body laid out in front of the pews. an older woman sits towards the back, comforted by a nun.

"how'd they find him?" Prentiss asks the police chief as she leads us to the victim.

"night janitor." she nods to a man being questioned by cops in the corner.

"did he see anything?" I ask her.

"no, but he remembered a parishioner who was here earlier," we walk past the older woman. she stares at us expectantly as the chief talks. "so there could be a potential witness."

we stop at the body of a priest, his eyes covered and a blade lodged in his skull, unsurprisingly. Emily and I stare down at him, realizing the same thing.

"first public killing." she notes as she bends down to examine his wounds. "he's getting bolder."

"the presentation is just as important as the kill." I join her on the ground, snapping my gloves tighter on my hands and turning his head to the side to get a better look at the blade. semi-dried blood coats the tied fabric around his eyes.

"I'm gonna go talk to that woman." Emily leaves. the crime scene agent crouches down on the ground across from me, and I bite my lip before making a strange request.

"would you mind... sliding that thing out of his ear?"

the agent blinks at me in disbelief, probably not wanting to pry a knife out of someone's head, but nods and does so carefully. I squint down at the wound. then I realize something.

"Reid?" my voice carries across the room. Spencer is talking to an officer when he hears me and walks over.

"this doesn't look like a normal blade, but I don't know what it is." I point at the now half-buried weapon. it sits unpleasantly out, the blood catching warm light. Spencer gets down next to the crime scene agent and examines it more closely.

"this is flint." he says slowly, turning to me with a concerned expression.

"like the stone?"

"flint is the symbol for protection and retribution in Egyptian mythology. with hieroglyphics, they used to display dangerous animals like scorpions and snakes being cut with flint knives in order to render them powerless."

"oh." is all I can manage while I process what he's saying. Spencer waits for me to say something else, but instead I bend my head down to pull back the silk tie.

"there's no way that using flint is a coincidence." I reason. the blood is all on the inside of the tie as well, which gives me pause. Reid recognizes this a second later, his eyes lifting to mine. they look almost brown in the candlelight, flecks of gold sparkling in them while his mind whirs endlessly.

"I'm gonna call Garcia to see if any of the victims have been charged with a crime." he tells me.

"good idea." we both stand, the crime scene agent scurrying off to do something else. I head back over to Emily and hope that we're right about this. flint is too specific of a weapon for it not to be intentional, right?

...

we deliver the profile by the end of the work day, our unsub a serial vigilante with a personal edge to all of his killings. my body is slightly shaky from downing cups of coffee without any actual food, so the promise of eating out after we finish makes my stomach eager.

we go to a Chinese restaurant by the station and keep talking about the case, despite having promised ourselves not to do so. I sit between Prentiss and Reid while I dig into my dumplings. I like listening to them swap theories and past cases, how they weave together all their stories.

"you forgot to add something to the profile earlier today, Aaron." Rossi says as he piles more noodles onto his plate. our attention immediately focuses on the Italian.

"what did he forget?" Prentiss has a ghost of a smile on her face. I've noticed that she tends to speak like she's on the inside of a joke that other people don't understand. the intonation of her words feels like a secret.

"I didn't mention the possibility of our unsub being a cop." Hotch takes a sip of his ice water. there's a moment where we all reflect on this information before Morgan breaks the silence.

"I mean, they do know the system."

"they could easily take matters into their own hands, given what they see every day." Prentiss adds. I nod.

"when someone like our victim is killed, police refer to it as a public-service murder." Reid struggles to get the noodles onto his chopsticks, which I notice but don't say anything about. he tries again, the food slipping back onto his plate. Morgan notices this shortcoming of Spencer's and I see that he's about to start teasing him, so I change the subject.

"I saw a lot of rapists walk when I was in sex crimes," I put down my dumpling while I talk. Hotch watches me intently. I haven't spoken much about my previous job with anyone on the team, especially not him. in fact, he barely knows anything about me. "a lot of the victims didn't feel safe pressing charges, or the juries said they were asking for it. it's enough to make you wanna explode."

"it's a long way from feeling like that and actually committing a murder, though, don't you think?" Emily asks.

"not really." I turn my gaze back to my plate and start to feel nauseous. there's a clinking of plates and silverware as we continue in silence. Emily nudges my arm gently with hers and offers me a supportive smile.

I hear Spencer next to me, getting the attention of a passing waiter.

"excuse me," he says in a low tone. "can I get a fork, perhaps?"

Morgan snickers as the waiter takes off to get the utensil. at this point, there's a palpable tension as we wait to see who makes fun of Reid first. he drops his chopsticks into his bowl with a defeated clatter and Derek gently pushes his knuckles against Spencer's cheekbone.

"having some trouble, kid?" he asks. Spencer smacks his hand away.

"don't be mean." I giggle, reaching onto my wrist to grab a hair tie. "here, try this." I wrap the thing around the end of Spencer's chopsticks so that they're easier to use, handing them back to him.

Spencer tries again and it works-- if not somewhat clumsily. he gives me a little appreciative smile and I smile back before returning to my food, listening to the stories that Rossi doles out. he even pays for dinner despite our half-hearted protests.

the entertainment for the evening is pretty nice, but when I've stuffed myself with Chinese food, Emily leans over to me.

"do you wanna go to that museum you were talking about earlier?" she whispers. I peek at my phone to check the time.

"I doubt we'd have much time before they close, but yeah, definitely." excitement bubbles up in my stomach as I realize I might actually get to poke around for a while. Prentiss throws her napkin on the table abruptly.

"Clea and I are going to the Museum of Fine Arts. anyone wanna join?"

I look around to gauge some reactions.

"I'm interested." Morgan nods.

"I've already been several times." Rossi takes a sip of his drink as he politely declines. Hotch shakes his head.

"I have some paperwork I need to finish."

"again?" Prentiss complains.

"I'll go." Spencer sits up straighter as he looks at his brunette friend, folding his napkin neatly on his plate. my eyebrows raise a little, although I'm not surprised that he'd be interested in visiting any museum. we stand and get ready to go; Hotch warns us to be ready to go at seven in the morning tomorrow. a little weight is lifted off my chest as I realize that there will be some reprieve during this case, and then we're wandering out into the evening air.

we ate dinner sort of early, so the sky is still slightly aglow with a bruised shade, preparing to sink into its favorite darkness. after finding the route to the museum, we hop on the train.

Boston is lovely in the kind of way that aches of neat corners and airy lights. stores crammed with antiques and novelty products line the sidewalks, people wander about as they take in a pleasant night. somehow disjointed and cohesive all at once.

whatever bit of conversation we had on the way dissipates into breathlessness once we get inside the enormous entryway. it's cavernous, extravagant, gorgeous. we flip through brochures advertising different exhibits. Emily raves about Impressionism and decides that that must be our first stop, so we head off with the rest of the museum stragglers who have decided to feed themselves with art until they're forced to leave.

my head is constantly spinning to admire something else in the enormous white rooms. it's a bit overwhelming at some points, what with the gargantuan canvases that greet me at every turn. but it's impressive, too, and I find myself hungrily reading all the small plaques. I venture out of the Impressionism vein and into Korean art, my feet carrying me away from Morgan and Prentiss. Spencer broke off a while ago; to where, I have no idea.

I check out vases and pottery, sculptures, renderings of historical events. images from the crime scenes fill my head intrusively. there's no use in trying to shut them out; they've been in my dreams for a while now, the kind that wake me up in a cold sweat. I haven't told anyone about them— I'm sure others get them, too— and I don't want to seem like I can't handle it. every time I close my eyes, I begin to feel the pressure of a knife against my temple.

"a lot of these are from private collections."

the voice causes me to jump, my skin erupting in goosebumps as Spencer stands beside me. he holds his bag against his side and follows my line of sight to the 18th-century bookshelf screen.

"that's interesting." I reply. what else is there to say to that?

"really makes you think about what other art pieces won't ever be seen by the public." he turns and starts walking onto the next work, seemingly done with this conversation. my brow furrows while I watch him go, his posture miserable as a result of his skinny build. he's quite tall.

"what do you mean?" my voice comes out quiet, but it carries in the otherwise empty exhibit. Reid turns around and stops in his place, allows me to catch up briefly. we start to read another plaque by a silver basin.

"you could have a Cézanne just rotting in your attic and it would never be examined by the right scholars." he shrugs.

"I really doubt there's anything nearing that value in my attic." I laugh.

"you ever seen 'Antiques Roadshow'?" he asks non-sarcastically. I balk.

"sure."

"you never know." he's not a man of many words, apparently. I get his message regardless and we continue to walk, him setting out facts for me in neat rows, simple and easily taken in. he's definitely a know-it-all, but not in the way that makes me want to escape his presence. it's sort of comforting, having someone around who just understands everything. his absolute lack of social graces makes him easy to be around, too; I don't need to force conversation because he doesn't care.

we wind up in the mummy section, where the walls tingle with an energy that could only be described as magical.

"spooky." I nod to the domineering sarcophagus lid of Kheperra. a spotlight illuminates all of its intricacies and I make a beeline for it. Spencer trails behind me and we fall into silence as we peer at the exquisite details. it's intimidating, for sure, hulking and made of carved black stone. "you feel that?" I whisper to Spencer, who is enthralled in the image.

the way the spotlight spills over onto him is interesting; it emphasizes the shadow below his jaw and the delicate quality of his bone structure, his cheekbone prominent at the place where his ear meets his face. his lashes are long and lovely, his Adam's apple poking out of a slender throat. he turns to me with a curious expression.

"feel what?"

"the energy change," I smile. "from the ancient dead bodies."

"it's probably just the dark lighting and the media associations you have with mummies." but his eyes begin flitting about the room in a slightly panicked manner. I feel a smirk tug at my lips as I step closer to him.

"are you scared?"

"no," he scoffs and makes a face like I've made the world's most absurd accusation. "why would I be scared?"

"because we're all alone in here..." I use a lower tone to freak him out a little. "who's to stop them from coming out and... snatching us?" when my hand snakes around behind him to pinch his arm, he jumps.

"what the--" he catches sight of the devilish grin on my face. "don't do that!"

"sorry, Einstein." I laugh and turn in the other direction, him following me to the next piece. Spencer doesn't seem to have more thoughts to give on the exhibition, probably still a little creeped out. part of me begins to feel guilty for startling him, even though he constantly does that to me. his footfalls are weirdly soft.

I wonder what Spencer is like outside of work. what he does when he gets back to his apartment. how could someone like him entertain themselves? maybe he just reads books until his eyes glaze over. he definitely doesn't go out often, but maybe he has other nerdy friends. I hope he does. there's something in his eyes that's too viscous for me to grasp, something swimming and pocketed. I'd like to understand it, although that doesn't seem like a great idea to pursue. he barely gives his closest friends information about his life.

we end up at opposite ends of the room, him still examining an entombed husband and wife couple while I check out a canonic jar. the silence in this room is tangible. I wasn't lying when I felt an energy shift— it's like gold and clay and it smells like cracked cinnamon.

I'm trying to get a better look at the detailing when I feel a cold hand wrap around my forearm, easily encircling it. I jolt.

Spencer stands behind me with a playful smile, like he's quite pleased with himself.

"Reid!" I yank my arm away from his long fingers and see him let out that rare laugh. it's pleasant and fills the room with a warmer light as I rub my arm where his fingers held me. I'm surprised he was willing to touch me at all; it's pretty obvious that he's got a problem with germs, which is understandable.

"who's scared now?" he tries to defend himself with his palms when I reach out to gently smack his shoulder.

"you know, I was starting to feel bad for you." I laugh. he smiles brightly and keeps walking into the next room. I realize that the way we move is like two weighted ends of a string. he drifts out on his own, I follow, and vice versa.

I appreciate that he's beginning to loosen up around me, so much so that he smiles at a joke I make in the English Regency section. we walk quickly to absorb as much as we can before the museum closes, but we still don't get through all of it. Spencer isn't much of a conversationalist, and he doesn't really need to be. he listens to me talk, I listen to his erudite observations, smiling when he uses certain terms that sound like they're from someone much older.

by the time a curator tells us we have to go, we've completely lost Prentiss and Morgan and end up meeting back at the entrance. it's pitch black outside; Boston is still bustling, except my legs are tired and I'm ready to crash in bed. we have another packed day tomorrow.

[schmergo]

Growing up in the DC area, seeing some really cool historical artifacts on display was always just kind of... normal for me, but one thing I never really appreciated was some of the noteworthy ANIMALS I got to see at the Smithsonian’s National Zoo and Conservation Biology Institute as a child! You do kind of forget that it being the 'National' Zoo gives it a sort of special clout. Plus, animals can live to be pretty old, so it's easy to forget about the lives these animals lived before I saw them on display! So, because I miss going to the zoo during the shutdown, here's some fun facts

* HSING-HSING THE PANDA: In 1972, Richard Nixon was given a gift of two pandas by the Chinese government following a successful visit. Their names were Ling-Ling and Hsing-Hsing. While Ling-Ling died in 1992 (which still made it the longest-lived panda outside of China at the time), Hsing-Hsing lived until 1999, which means that I definitely saw a panda that had seen Richard Nixon several times in my childhood-- one of the first two pandas to ever live in National Zoo! (There had been other pandas in US zoos up to that point, but this was the first to grace DC.) Of course, the current pandas they display are major animal celebrities, too!

* PANGHUR BAN THE WHITE TIGER: The first white tiger in America (in fact, the first white tiger outside of India), named Mohini, moved into the National Zoo in 1960. Almost all white tigers in the USA are descended from Mohini, and ALL white tigers are descended from her father, Mohan, who stayed in India. (Note: this is one of the reasons I'm vocally against the breeding of white tigers, who are pretty much all inbred and have significant health problems, but more on that later.) Mohini was a massive celebrity and was officially presented to president Dwight D. Eisenhower on the White House lawn, giving her the nickname, 'First Cat.' She gave birth to several cubs, white and orange, over the years. The Smithsonian's last white tiger descended from Mohini, Panghur Ban, died in 2002. I distinctly remember him leaping impressively in his exhibit when I visited on a kindergarten field trip! The National Zoo no longer breeds or displays white tigers for ethical reasons.

* RUSTY THE RED PANDA: This is a more recent celebrity. A red panda named rusty escaped from the zoo in the summer of 2013 but was luckily recovered in Adams Morgan. Rusty moved out to their suburban breeding facility later, so you can't see him anymore (if he's even still alive-- I'm not sure how long those guys live), but I was delighted to see him during college!

* SHANTHI AND AMBIKA THE ELEPHANTS: Elephants have long, long lifespans. Unfortunately, two of the National Zoo's oldest and most distinguished residents died in 2020. Shanthi had been at the zoo for 44 years and Ambika for 59 years (although Ambika was thought to be as old as 72 when she died, having worked as a logging elephant in India before moving to the USA). It's wild to think that anyone visiting the zoo for the past 4 or 5 decades probably saw these same elephants. Shanthi and Ambika were two of the most studied elephants in the world (Shanthi was also one of the first elephants to give birth from artificial insemination) and zoos have learned a LOT about elephants in captivity during their lives and elephants are getting better care thanks to what was learned from these two.

* BONNIE THE ORANGUTAN: She may not be a worldwide celebrity, but she IS a scientific phenomenon and the subject of academic papers! Bonnie, who was born in 1976 and has lived at the Zoo since 1980, has an unusual talent: whistling. She appears to have learned this skill from zookeepers and is the only known non-human ape to do so. This is not a sound that orangutans are known to make in the wild, though they do sometimes pick up sounds from other species. She wasn’t trained to whistle and doesn’t do it for rewards— she just seems to like the sound! Like many of the zoo’s orangutans, she travels between the Great Apes house and the ‘think tank’ building over crowds by something called the ‘O Line.’ Unlike the other orangutans, though, she doesn’t merely cross quickly. She often stops sits on the tower and watches the crowds below!

***HONORABLE MENTIONS***These are two celebrity residents of the National Zoo that I never got to meet-- but my parents would have!

* SMOKEY BEAR: The real life Smokey Bear was a black bear rescued from a forest fire in 1950. When he came to live at the National Zoo, he became a huge celebrity and over 13,000 fan letters a week were addressed to him! When he died in 1976, his obituary in the Washington Post described him as a longtime government employee in DC. I remember there used to be signs and displays of him at the zoo when I was little.

* HAM THE CHIMPANZEE: The National Zoo used to be home to a real astronaut! Ham the chimpanzee is sometimes described as the first hominid in space. Unlike past primate flights, he actually had to do tasks in space, so he wasn’t a mere passenger. He was launched on a suborbital flight in January 1961 as part of the Project Mercury missions. Ham was transferred to the National Zoo in 1963 and lived there for 17 years! 

***OTHER HONORABLE MENTIONS: The Most Endangered***These aren’t celebrity animals, but some of the rarest creatures you might see on display at the zoo when it reopens:

THE PANAMANIAN GOLDEN FROG: Some of these live in the Reptile house (and possibly Amazonia?) None have been seen in the wild since 2009. This species has been decimated by a disease caused by amphibian chytrid fungus, which the National Zoo was instrumental in identifying and researching. They are also part of reintroduction efforts

SCIMITAR HORNED ORYX: Two of these live in the Cheetah Conservation Center exhibit, and while most guests are most interested in the cheetahs (also famously endangered animals), say hi to the oryxes next time you get a chance! This species is excinct in the wild, though the National Zoo is participating in reintroduction campaigns. There are now thousands in captivity.

BLACK-FOOTED FERRETS: You can see some of these in the small mammal house. These are now considered only endangered (as opposed to critically endangered), but they used to be extinct in the wild in the mid-1990s. Thanks to a reintroduction campaign, there are now over 1,000 in the wild.

PRZEWALSKI’S HORSE: These beautiful wild horses live in a pen across from the Elephant Trails exhibit. Formerly extinct in the wild, there were only 12 horses alive in zoos by the end of the 1950’s, and reintroduction projects have occurred since the 1990s. There are around 1,900 alive today. The National Zoo was home to both the first successful reversed vasectomy on a Przewalski’s horse and the first birth by artificial insemination.

SUMATRAN TIGER: These creatures are critically endangered, with only 200-400 left in the wild. No, that is not a typo. The  National Zoo is home to a female Sumatran tiger named Damai, as well as several Amur tigers. Damai gave birth to three cubs over the years, all of which have moved on to different zoos.

What's your favorite animal to see at the zoo?

[ot5ismyhome]

12. What Does The Future Hold?

To read from begging click here.

December 1945, Europe

A tall dark-haired person was sitting in the high stood of the bar sipping their drink. A man, in army uniform walked up to them and settled on the next stool. He ordered his drinks and tried to start a small talk.

“I haven’t seen you here much? New here?” he said. He English had an undertone of strong German accent.

“That’s none of your business” they answered. “You and your war” they muttered to themselves, glancing at the man’s uniform.

“You aren’t so better off,” he commented. He added, “Vielen Dank” to the bartender who set down his drink.

Anger burned in their eyes. “How dare you?”

“You have much more potential than sit alone in a bar and sulk over the past. You could create what your mentor always wanted. Fulfil your destiny.”

The words went straight to their heart as they looked at the lanky man in front of them. “How do you know?”

“Words travel faster now-a-days, my friend.”

The person’s mind waged a war on its own. To say they weren’t intrigued by this stranger would be an understatement. “You know bullshit” they said, their voices full of spite at the man, their eyes burning like fire. The person got up to leave.

He chuckled. “I should have expected this reaction. Let me put my offer on the table before you leave.” His eyes studied his companion meticulously. “I provide the resources; you hunt them and bring them to me.”

“Who are you?”

“Werner Reinhardt.”

…..

Present time, New York

Steve and Bucky had moved past their awkwardness and differences. They had finally decided to get back on dating. Given their history, they were afraid of how it would work out. But everything went smoothly for them.

The couple were seated in Bucky’s favourite diner waiting for their food. The conversation was flowing easily between the lovers. It was interrupted by the ringing of Bucky’s phone. He looked apologetically at Steve as he attended it. His face became paler with each passing second.

“Okay I will be there” he said ending the call.

Before Bucky could explain the situation to Steve his phone rang again. This time it was Pym’s assistant. He said he will be there as soon as possible and hung up.

“What happened?”

“Hank had a heart attack. Hope and Scott have left abruptly and they aren’t responding. I need to- I’m so sorry. It’s just-”

“Hey, I understand. We’re good.” 

Bucky hastily kissed Steve goodbye and left. 

…..

The Council of Five except Bucky landed in Washington DC. At the airport they were met by Rosalind Pierce, the head of Advanced Threat Containment Unit (ATCU). After the smuggling came to light, the government wanted to form a face organisation to deal with advanced threats. Rosalind Pierce, former MI6 and CIA agent was apt for that. She greeted them with a warm smile. They got in the car and left for ATCU headquarters.

“Our advisors are eager to meet you. Mr. Banks will show you to the conference room” she said once they arrived at the headquarters.

The Council of Five waited in the conference room. None of them were eager for the meeting.

“Do you think this is a good idea?” Steve asked, looking at Jiaying.

“They know about us. We can’t do anything other than make a treaty.”

“Pierce sounds fine. Let’s get on her good sides and renegotiate our terms.”

“I wouldn’t put much faith in her. She is still human”

“It beats me that you hate humans and still run a hospital for them.”

“I don’t hate them. I just don’t trust them” Jiaying said. Her voice had lost a friendly banter. Natasha noticed the sudden change in the ambience of the room.

“We can’t oppose them directly. But whatever decision we make, we will give a united front.”

Gideon Malick and Senator Ellen Nadeer walked into the room. Seeing the two vampires, Malick broke into a grin and shook their hands. But the Senator kept her distance with a disgusted look on her face. She took her seat without as much as greeting the others. Natasha rolled her eyes as she and Steve exchanged a look. The meeting hadn't even started and here they were showing hostility. Rosalind Pierce, Luther Banks, General Talbot and Colonel Rhodes joined them soon.

The group settled down to discuss the treaty between vampires and the government. To say it shortly, the meeting didn’t go well. The one person who was worth speaking to was Rosalind and the other two were pissing off The Council. General Talbot was a reasonable man to talk with but he wasn’t able to convince the Senator.

After the meeting, the Jiaying, Steve and Rosalind along with Luther Banks left to visit the Museum of Natural History. Jiaying and Steve planned to get to know their new ally better.

“Will it be okay if I ask you for the history tour?”

“Always glad to be of help, ma’am” smiled Steve

“I did History major in my college. I’m just curious if what is studied is true.”

“To say shortly, no. Most of the time the winners write the history. Most of the significant things don’t get recorded. While others get changed as time passes.”

“Then enlighten me.”

….

Talbot, Rhodey and Tony were walking out of the ATCU headquarters. They were talking about the new weapon deal and the budget. Tony was engrossed in the talk that he almost collided into the woman who just rounded the corner. 

“Hi there,” he said without missing a beat.

“Hi stranger.”

“I’m Tony. Tony Stark. And you are?”

“Virginia Potts.”

“May I ask what’s your role in ATCU?”

“To keep the President in the loop.”

“Does the work require you to fly to New York?”

“Does it?” asked Pepper, cocking her head.

“I think it does. Are you free tonight?”

“I am. Why don’t you give me a call?” she said, slipping her number card into his hand. “I got to run now. Having a meeting” she said and walked down the corridor.

Tony put the card in his pocket and stared at the retreating figure with a smile on his face.

“If you are done staring, Mr. Stark, we may to proceed to Smithsonian”

Rhodey snickered at the commentary which made Talbot frown. Tony and Rhodey enjoyed the evening. It’s been long since they had met and this provided a perfect opportunity to catch up.

…..

Malick Mansion

“Let me pour you that scotch,” Stephanie said turning her attention away from the book.

Gideon settled in the arm chair near her chuckling.

“I should thank you for today. Your idea to go public could improve our stand.”

“One thing we need to learn from history. Never repeat the same mistakes.” Seeing the amused look on her father’s face, she continued. “Whitehall wanted to eradicate them. But he was too closed off to the world. Operating from castles and chasing them with a predator prey dynamic. If the world come to know about him, no government would openly support him for the fear of backlash.”

“So, we get to register them and keep a note on everyone. Once they slip up, we act the law enforcement to protect the people for the vampire threat,” Gideon finished.

Stephanie raised her glass. Gideon followed suit with a proud smile.

“To my daughter, who proved to a Malick.

*****

Chapter 13

[tourderex]

Day 5: The DC area proved to be full of more surprises and fun challenges on our second day in town! First we started the day greeting the very kind park police Sargent who let us camp out in the closed campgrounds! He came by to check on us and say hello. He even gave us his personal cell number just in case. It’s always nice to be reminded that most people are good and kind. 🥰

Our plan for the day was to explore DC. We started off by trying to leave from a metro station that was apparently under construction for the summer…who knew! We managed to catch a train at the next metro station up the road and even parked the RV all day for free. It was a warm one in DC to be sure! We planned to walk around the mall and see as many monuments as we could in the morning, and when it got too hot, to head inside to the Smithsonian. Well it turns out that Covid restrictions require you to book time slots in advance for all Smithsonian museums, and they were all booked for the next month out. Of course in retrospect it seems obvious that we should have looked into that, but hindsight is always 20/20. C’est la vie 🤷🏽‍♀️. So now we will just have to return to DC again someday to take the kids to the Smithsonian museums! The kids were happy that they got 2 ice creams in one day, so they definitely didn’t feel like they missed out on anything! We were all pretty wiped out by late afternoon after a long day of walking in the heat and humidity. I am happy to report that we all took our first shower of the trip this evening!! 🦨😂. We’re staying at a KOA campsite which is loaded with amenities that makes camping fun and easy after a long, hot day. Although it might make it hard to get an early start in the morning since the kids really want to stay here longer to go swimming in the pool. Notice in the pictures I finally got my wish of dressing alike when we travel and looking like obvious tourist!! Our shirts ended up being topics of conversation on many occasions. We even met 2 different families who live in Huntsville as well. Off to NJ in the morning! Saugerties, NY for the night. 🚐🌅

[ladyhistorypod]

Episode 11: [Insert Political Joke Here]

Sources:

Patsy Mink

National Women’s History Museum

University of Hawaii

United States House of Representatives

Patsy Takemoto Mink

KHON2 News (YouTube)

Further Viewing: Internet Archive, Patsy Mink: Ahead of the Majority (Trailer)

Alice Roosevelt Longworth

The White House Historical Association

Theodore Roosevelt Center at Dickinson State University

Find A Grave

The New York Times

Smithsonian Institute

Wilma Mankiller

National Women’s History Museum

Oklahoma History

Time Magazine

National Women’s Hall of Fame

Smithsonian Magazine

Attributions: Cherokee Nation's Chief Wilma Mankiller, Marching Drum, Power Of People: Sea-Tac Airport Travel Ban/Immigration Protest

Click below for a transcript of this episode!

Archival Audio: I'm really very excited by, and my process says our difficulty has been that not enough have run. We can’t expect that every woman, because she's a woman, the minute she runs she's going to be successful. That's not possible. So we do need to have the numbers in there competing, and given the numbers I think we're going to be more and more successful over the years.

Alana: So this is the first episode that's going to come out after the election is over. Like, by the time this comes out we're gonna know.

Haley: I was thinking of that when I was looking at the schedule and I don't know… I'm real nervous. I have class that night. It's going to my first class being like on the east coast, so I'm gonna be real tired. I’m gonna be with my cat though it's gonna be fine.

Alana: No this podcast is gonna be so nice.

Lexi: To be fair, we might not know who actually won by that Thursday.

Haley and Alana, somehow at exactly the same time: That’s true.

Lexi: Because there's going to be a lot of contention about mail-in ballots. So, dear Lexi listening to this on Thursday or even on Tuesday while editing it of election week; how's it going? What’s up?

Alana: Are you okay?

Lexi: Are you doing okay? Do we know yet? When will we know?

Alana: When will we know? We probably won't know on Tuesday when you're editing it, but… 

Lexi: And we probably won't know on Thursday.

Alana: On Thursday when it comes out.

Lexi: We might get a result and then we might get told it's not the result. There might be a lawsuit.

Alana: This podcast is gonna be really nice for the two of you to have to remember my voice by when I die in the coup.

Lexi: Yes the coup that will occur in DC. That might be more like January.

Alana: That's true, the coup will be in January.

Lexi: When someone refuses to leave… the area… to evacuate the premises.

Alana: Maybe he’ll be dead by then.

[INTRO MUSIC]

Alana: Hello and welcome to Lady History; the good, the bad, and the ugly ladies you missed in history class. Here I am, still on Zoom, with Lexi. Lexi, have you ever run a political campaign?

Lexi: Oh my god. I have.

Alana: Did I set you up for this?

Lexi: Yes. My dog is running for daycare class president. Please vote for him. His name is Captain, he's a Portuguese water dog, he's two and a half years old, and he's really cute. His platform is that he'll give you a snuggle.

Alana: I love him.

Lexi: Me too.

Alana: And someday will be reunited in person, Haley. Haley, what's your political platform?

Haley: I know. My skeleton is allowed to be in my passenger seat so I can ride in the carpool lane.

Lexi: Skeletons is people.

Haley: My plastic Napoleon Bone-aparte should be my second in command. Thus, me going in the carpool lane.

Lexi: Vote for Haley, skeletons is people.

Alana: And I'm Alana and my single issue vote is not ushering in the apocalypse.

Lexi: I have experience as a campaign manager, feel free to hire me.

Haley: A lot of people are gonna hate that.

Alana: No I love that.

Haley: I’ve never met–

Lexi: Listen, the people who support NAGPRA, they will love that.

Haley: He’s fake. My mom really had to grill me and I–

Lexi: He’s not real. Her skeleton is not real.

Haley: My mom was terrified that I got a real skeleton. And like honestly, of all people, I could go on the deep dark black webs, sure, but she even like texted my roommate like when we were all like in a group chat and we were calling or something and she was like “Caroline it's plastic, right.” And then also, y'all were involved in this– when Robert and I started dating, for like months he thought that was real and wouldn’t go near it and was like, heavily creeped out that like he was sleeping in the same room as a real skeleton. And it wasn’t until like I pitied him and–

Alana: First of all, he’s sleeping in the same room as two real skeletons.

Haley: That's true.

Lexi: He's sharing a body with one.

Archival Audio: Because the women have not until recently reached retirement age after having worked a full lifetime, only now are beginning to realize that there is inequity in the law.

Lexi: Congresswoman Patsy Takemoto Mink was born on December 6, 1927, near a sugar plantation. She was born on the Hawaiian island of Maui, and I just have to say, Maui is one of my favorite places on Earth. It was the first place I took scuba diving lessons and it is seriously an amazing and beautiful place. I have trouble thinking of any place I've ever been that's as beautiful. Patsy was a third generation American and her grandparents were immigrants from Japan. The term among Japanese Americans for a third generation child is sansei, not to be confused with sensei which means teacher. And sansei are the first to be raised by parents who are themselves raised in America, so they are very American and that is why they get a special name. Patsy was close with her brother Eugene and the two spent most of their childhood exploring the island together, foraging for edible mushrooms and bamboo shoots which is really cute. The family mainly spoke English at home, but Patsy learned Japanese in order to communicate with her mother's parents. Her father, Suematsu Takemoto, had been orphaned at a young age and served in the military before attending the University of Hawaii and becoming a civil engineer. He served during World War I. Suematsu was the first Japanese American to earn a degree in civil engineering from the University of Hawaii and he set a precedent for his children who would go on to break barriers themselves. Patsy witnessed racial discrimination faced by her family at a young age and this may have served as inspiration for her work in later life. Patsy also grew up in a community where many families did not have the privileges and comforts that her family had, and she realized this when she started to attend school; this also likely shaped her future work. Patsy's parents treated Eugene and Patsy equally, breaking Japanese tradition in which strict gender roles were imposed. This likely contributed to the strong bond that she and Eugene shared, valuing each other as equals. Patsy, who always kept up with her brother, decided to attend school a year early to be with him in class. She started primary school at the age of just four. In the fourth grade, her and her brother were transferred to a new school. This new school, which focused on English language learning, only admitted students with fluent English skills, effectively segregating white students from non white students and indigenous people on the Hawaiian islands. Every teacher they had in class was white. Patsy and Eugene were admitted because they had great English skills, but of course, English was their first language and it was also language their parents spoke to them at home. And Patsy and Eugene were part of only five percent of the student body that was non white, so ninety five percent of the school was white. Though Patsy flourished academically, she had trouble fitting in at the new school and made very few friends. Patsy's hobbies included listening to the radio and reading books which connected her to the world beyond Maui. Eventually, Patsy entered a new school to begin high school. There she was elected class president. She claims the support of the football team helped her secure the position. This was the start of her career in politics. While Patsy was in high school, the attack on Pearl Harbor occurred.

Archival Audio (FDR): Yesterday, December 7, 1941, a date which will live in infamy.

Lexi: Local non-Japanese citizens became wary of the Japanese locals, despite no Japanese Hawaiians being involved in the attacks. Japanese families destroyed culturally significant family heirlooms such as katanas and kimonos. They shut down Japanese language schools and they disbanded their cultural clubs. At the same time, Japanese Americans in mainland America were being rounded up and sent to internment camps. Many of them had been born and raised in America and had never even visited Japan. Some of them were sansei, just like Patsy. But racism and fear led non-Japanese individuals to oust even their closest Japanese friends. In Hawaii, far less Japanese were sent to internment camps and Patsy narrowly escaped participating in a tragic part of her generation and culture’s upbringing. Despite this, Patsy later in life claimed that President FDR was her political inspiration. Patsy graduated from her high school as valedictorian in the middle of a global war. In the fall, Patsy was admitted to the University of Hawaii, her father's alma mater, and she began her studies. She participated on the debate team and became president of the pre-med club because at the time she was considering pursuing a career in medicine. As the war continued, many of Patsy's college friends decided to transfer to schools on the mainland for security reasons. One of her professors suggested she apply to a women's college on the mainland. She was admitted to Wilson College in Chambersburg, Pennsylvania which happens to be my home state. She met with the president of the college upon her arrival at the school; he told her she would probably struggle with her course work because the classes are all taught in English and she would be granted a private room. Patsy later recalled that he was so shocked when she replied in perfect English for multiple sentences, and she was then put in a shared room because if you can speak English, you can share a room. This was Patsy’s first taste of the ignorance many mainland Americans had about the Hawaiian territory, which was not yet a state. Patsy found the course work at Wilson to be below her, stifling her for real learning. She also faced discrimination from classmates and faculty. Because of this, she transferred to the University of Nebraska. It was at her third college that Patsy became engaged with policy making. The university's policy segregated white students and students of color in student housing. The international house, where she assumed she had been placed purely because Hawaii was not a state at the time, actually was home to both international students of color and American students were Black, Latinx, or Asian. The school’s other dormitories and the on-campus Greek housing only admitted white students. Patsy decided to take action and began a campaign to end the discriminatory policy. She led letter writing efforts, worked with the school newspaper, and spoke with local newspapers about the issue. Students she did not even know began supporting her in her campaign. She became president of the Unaffiliated Students, a group of individuals were not associated with Greek life at the University of Nebraska. Patsy was within just one semester a campus leader. The same year she starred at the University of Nebraska, the housing discrimination policy was lifted by the board. Unfortunately, Patsy suffered a medical emergency and had to return to Hawaii to be with her family, where she finished her last semester of college just where she started, at the University of Hawaii. She earned a dual major degree in chemistry and zoology. After graduation, she applied to medical school. Every school she applied to reject her. At the time, women were not admitted to medical school at a fair rate and women made up only about three percent of the student body of most American medical schools. And, because it was 1948, many colleges were focusing on admitting returned veterans. The odds had been stacked against Patsy, and unfortunately she would not be able to fulfill her goal and dream of becoming a doctor. Then Patsy started her first job in a museum at the Honolulu Academy of Arts. Museums always seem to be a factor in our shows… huh… Well anyway–

Alana: I wonder why… 

Lexi: I wonder why… I mean I didn't even know this about her when I picked her so this is super fascinating.

Alana: You were just– you are drawn to her.

Lexi: Yes.

Alana: The museum called out to you.

Lexi: The little museum bit. And this is actually where she met her mentor who encouraged her to pursue law, so it was through the museum that she found her true calling. And she was accepted to the University of Chicago under their international student quota, and though she desperately, desperately wanted to correct their error and remind her that being born in the Hawaii territory made her an American, she did not want to mess up the chance to get into law school, so she just rolled with it. So, she went to Chicago and she started law school. Patsy found law school intellectually a good match for her and it kept her engaged in her learning which was something she really cared about. She made many friends, some of whom were also Japanese American students studying law. It was at law school where she met her future husband, John Francis Mink. John was from a Pennsylvania mining town and his grandparents were Czechoslovakian immigrants. He had received his undergraduate degree from Penn State and was pursuing a Masters in geophysics at the University of Chicago. Patsy and John married while still in grad school. Patsy's parents disapproved, saying they wished that she would wait until the two graduated, though it is speculated they may have had qualms about her marrying a white man. Patsy graduated in 1951 as the first Hawaiian woman to graduate from the University of Chicago with a law degree. John and Patsy remained in Chicago and had a daughter named Gwendolyn who goes by Wendy for short. And after she was born, they decided it was time to move back to Hawaii. A really shitty, dumb law at the time made women citizens of their husbands’ home states. Who decided that, what for, I do not know. This meant Patsy, despite spending less than a semester for life in Pennsylvania, was a Pennsylvania resident. She fought this law, arguing that the couple had never resided there together and she was granted Hawaiian residency and she was able to take the bar exam in Hawaii. Though she passed, she could not find work as a lawyer. The dual reality of her gender and race was working against her. Potential employers found that it would not be appropriate for a married woman to work long hours as a lawyer and they also feared she would decide to have another child. Go figure, they just assume these things about women, blahblah blahblah blah, people suck. So with the assistance of her father, she opened her own firm, advertising herself as the first Japanese woman lawyer in Hawaii. She had few clients, so she worked as a part time professor and took court appointed cases to supplement her income. When Hawaii was granted statehood, Patsy knew she wanted to run for government positions. She helped start a club in Oahu for young Democrats and expanded her interest in politics. In 1959, she ran for a position in Congress, but was not elected. In 1962, she won a seat in Hawaii’s State Senate. She had run an intense door to door community campaign, and it had worked. Patsy became the chair of the Education Committee and served in the State Senate until 1964. Patsy was determined to make change on a national scale and continue to campaign for selection as a candidate for the Democratic Party of Hawaii. In 1964, Hawaii was granted a second seat in the US House and Patsy ran to be the representative; she became the first Asian American woman to serve in Congress and the first woman to represent Hawaii. During the eighty ninth Congress, from 1965 to 1967, only thirteen of the five hundred thirty five combined senators and representatives were women. Patsy was the only woman of color. There's actually an awesome picture of the thirteen women and Patsy’s just right there in the middle with a big smile, but I think it's so crazy when you think about percentages and scale and how that doesn't accurately represent America, and, hm, anyway. Patsy fought for gender and racial equality. She promoted bilingual education, co-wrote Title IX, and promoted affordable child care. As a working mother, she knew she needed to support other working parents. Even though she moved to DC to take her new role she often traveled home to Hawaii to visit her constituents and hear their concerns. In 1970, she was the first Democratic woman to deliver a State of the Union response. She also passed an act in 1974 protecting women's access to equal education. She also spoke openly against America's participation in the Vietnam War, fearing the effects on civilians of the weapons that were being used. In 1976, she attempted to run for the U. S. Senate but lost. Then the Democratic Party of Oregon asked Patsy to run for president. Because they had an anti-war focus, Patsy felt they shared values and agreed to run for them. Patsy only got two percent of the Democratic primary vote, but she broke barriers as an Asian American and woman running for president; she was the first. East Asian American woman to seek the democratic nomination for president. Patsy also served as the Assistant Secretary of State for Oceans and International Environmental and Scientific Affairs in the Carter administration. In 1990, Patsy returned to Congress as a representative for Hawaii. She founded the Congressional Asian Pacific American Caucus and served six more terms in the House. In the summer of 2002, Patsy fell ill with pneumonia. She was hospitalized in her home state. She died in September 2002. Because ballots had already been printed for the 2002 election, her name still appeared as the candidate. Despite passing before the election, she won by a vast majority. Her replacement, Ed Case, still serves as a representative for their district of Hawaii today. After Patsy passed away, the Title IX Act was officially renamed the Patsy Mink Act. Patsy was actually one of the women I covered in my personal Instagram campaign to combat the lack of Asian American women in U. S. history core education standards, and as of 2020, no state public school history standard mentions an Asian American woman by name. I've said it on the pod before, I'll probably say it again; let's make sure students learn about people like Patsy, especially young girls in the Asian American community who can see themselves in politics because someone like Patsy broke barriers for them. Patsy continues to be the subject of documentaries and podcasts. In fact, of all the women that I've covered so far, she was featured on the most podcasts according to my quick Google. Obama awarded Patsy a posthumous Presidential Medal of Freedom, commemorating her work for the people of Hawaii and the nation, and remembered her as the embodiment of the Aloha spirit. Of Patsy, Obama said “Every girl playing little league, every woman playing college sports, and every parent, including Michelle and myself, who watches their daughter on a field or in a classroom, is forever grateful to the late Patsy Mink.” Patsy left her mark on US politics, paving the way for iconic Asian American politicians today like Mazie Hirono, Tammy Duckworth, Andrew Yang, and even Kamala Harris. Mahalo and arigato, Patsy. Lastly, I would like to thank the National Women's History Museum for the awesome page if they put together on her which I used as one of my main sources and I interned there this summer and the content is really well researched and totally worth checking out if you need resources on other women like Patsy.

Alana: I think I remember Obama– like I remember him giving the Presidential Medal of Freedom to her. And I think I remember him also being like she was a political icon of his, outside of what she did for like Asian Americans and women and Asian American women. Like he was just like this is someone else from Hawaii who was doing cool political things. Like role models don't need to be gendered.

Lexi: Yeah I was just gonna say like Hawaii is his home. It might be that being born there and her being born there really built a connection for him between them.

Archival Audio: My mother and I were put behind a screen door in the drawing room. We were allowed to listen, but we couldn’t be seen.

Haley: This is gonna be a wild ride because I have a lot of anecdotes about my life and to this woman, and this woman is Alice Roosevelt Longworth known as the president's daughter or the American celebrity of her time, and she was even referred to as Princess Alice. Like I said, I have a lot of anecdotes about my life and the Roosevelts. Can I interest anyone with a fun fact?

Lexi: Yes I love fun facts.

Haley: Thank you for your enthusiasm Lexi. Her father–

Lexi: Yes! I love fun facts!

Alana: Always! I always want the fun facts!

Haley: I love these two people. President Theodore Roosevelt is technically my fraternity brother. It's like a technical, like they– we say it, we claim as like the boast Roosevelt is like our fraternity brother but there's no– I think, I don't think there's like actual documentation that they were Alpha Delta Phi fraternity members, so– and also if you're listening to me like “that's a fraternity, no women allowed” I am part of the Alpha Delta Phi Society, we still claim post-split to be like gender neutral and be like “hey, women should be involved not just as our secretaries.” That's a whole other tangent I could go on. Google it, if you will. I think there's even a Wikipedia about it. But yeah he's my fraternity brother. I say that a lot when I like, see pictures or like statues of any of the Roosevelts, it’s a great time. I'm gonna start us off with like an inkling of a Teddy quote since we've been talking about him, and a lot of you may know that this quote whisper it while you listen to it if you're in the car, taking a shower, just chilling on your bed hugging a dog, anyway Teddy once said “I can do one of two things, I can be President of the United States or I can control Alice. I cannot possibly do both.” That's just giving you a taste of what a ride we’re going to go on. So what did Alice do to be worthy of such a quote, and the honor of being one of our political ladies for this episode? Honestly I could go on hours– I know I say this all the time, I can go on an hour long tangent on Alice, and I'm going to keep it just to like her pol– main political topics. Again, cracking this history book wide open to the birth of Alice on February 12 1884. Unfortunately, two days later, both her mother and her paternal grandmother died, and she was raised by her aunt Anna Roosevelt, and grew up with her five other half siblings between New York and Washington. This leads into another fun fact, if you will. You can visit their house at Sagamore Hill, and my friend was a ranger there once last year, and I got to go visit her during our Friendsgiving and slept in one of the barns on their site and there's like, I think Teddy's buried there, Alice is not but we'll get to that. But they have a whole like Roosevelt cemetery, it's a whole historic site in Long Island. The barn is haunted by something because I could not sleep at all, I just felt like something kept waking me up and I kept looking at this like one creaky door. Because we were in like her guest rooms, which was like two, two other twin beds in case they were like more Rangers on duty. And mine looked straight at this old door that kind of like lead into a mudroom and the outdoors. I swear there was no light outside. Like I went around, like the next time, I twisted my ankle trying to get around to that area, and I couldn't find like where this porch light would be giving such a green mist of color around this door at night because like all the lights were like those museum fluorescent like white bright lights or like– nothing green light and it freaked me out. Anyhoo that's end of like my tangent with that fun fact. Go visit Sagamore Hill for more Teddy content. And as a child– back to Alice– it was clear that she was a brilliant woman. Many sources noted that she was quote self taught in many of her areas of studies and was an avid reader. Along with her brilliance, she was considered to be a stubborn, strong-willed, risk taker, headline-maker, rabble-rouser, and trendsetter. Just all the things and you want in a lady. Alice's political side didn't shine through her skin cells until her father was sworn into office after President McKinley was assassinated in 1901. She was also, if not like the first, the first of any of the president's daughters to take like on a political role, kind of like with Lexi you were saying like there are a lot of firsts going on, and I believe this was like a first, for whatever reason, but she was the first of like president's daughter having some sort of political action that she like was like “hey let's fix this. I'm gonna do this, I'm a lady, I'm brilliant, I can do this, I have a voice.” And for example, in 1905 she accompanied Congressmen to Asia as like a quote goodwill ambassador for the administration, for like one of those let's go see the sights that we see a lot of political figures around the world do. There she was involved in a lot of peace discussions that were like post Russo-Japanese War. So there's a lot there. There's a lot on like the White House website that's in the sources, but it was more about the politics rather than Alice herself and I saw that a lot when I was reading things about Alice. Like when it started to get political it was heavily on the politics not much so what Alice did for those political actions or her political voice. I don't know if that's like author writing stuff…  I didn't write it, all I know is that she was married. I believe it was like around 1906 and it was to Nick Longworth– that's why we have the Roosevelt Longworth name– who was actually part of the Republican Party. So at this time it was the Progressive Party which was her father Teddy Roosevelt and herself and then the Republican Party. And Alice agreed with her father on political stances, thus the Progressive Party, thus making these different political ideals kind of like a wrench in their relationship. But there’s a lot of other stuff that made this marriage kind of like a very topsy turvy one. But also there was alcoholism and affairs and they didn't necessarily come from Nick. This is where I read many sources where like Alice had many different lovers. I didn't really dig into Nick’s because like… men… we're here for Alice. But it was noted that she had different affairs, lovers, and these were all other men in the government. More on her political leaning, I didn't see anywhere that they got divorced, but they did have a daughter, Paulina, and Nick died bef– like way before Alice's death and she would– like should write books and go on like traveling trips, even post Daddy being in office to support Paulina. So I said her father died– that was a great segue, good job Haley. Even after her father died, she continued to use her voice in politics. She was one of the people who led the charge to keep the US from joining the League of Nations, and this is we're gonna get into like right around World War II. She was also a tough critic on how FDR was handling the Great Depression, and she at this time had a syndicated newspaper column where she would just bash politics, essentially. She would use this column to speak her voice and say “Hey, I have this, I’m gonna use it, I'm going to speak my mind, not care if I'm gonna piss any other political figure heads off” which… snaps for her. She also used her voice when she was on different committees to help the US, especially throughout World War II. She was heavily on the side of being neutral. I believe she was like even the head of some of these committees, these US implemented committees, to stay neutral. And just like overall politics itself. I couldn't find any where she was on a specific women's rights, education, it was more glossed over. I could have missed something. Other than being on committees, writing in newspapers, going on different platforms to speak her mind, she also would campaign for others such as Taft’s campaign and it was noted that she was friends with the Kennedys, Nixons, and the Johnsons; all other political figurehead families and future presidents. I didn't know where to put this little story, but like I need to say it, it's great. She was known for like, being like, that wild child. But in her wild child youths, she was known for smoking on the White House rooftop, and I'm like trying to picture the White House in my head, and obviously it probably changed a little bit since like Teddy was president, but like… I want to know if like you could see her from like walking on the Mall just like chilling on the roof because her father said she couldn't smoke inside the house for like a whole laundry list of reasons, it's not ladylike, blah blah blah, and she would just go to the roof and be like “I want to smoke. I'm going to do it on the roof. You can't touch me when I'm on the roof.” And she would also carry around a snake in her purse, and the snake’s name is Emily Spinach, yes, Emily Spinach was her… her snake’s name. Like honestly I would just love to carry around like a snake in my purse or any animal in my purse.

Alana: That’s my aesthetic.

Haley: It's an iconic name, Emily Spinach. This also confused me because I saw many pictures of her with a small dog. Like, kind of like a chihuahua, kind of like a pomsky, like one of those small fluffy dog mixes, so I want to know if like the snake and the dog got along. I don't– I don't know. I couldn't see my small dog like, liking a snake much.

Alana: I think small dogs were bred to hunt snakes. I'm not good at like the history of dog breeds but a lot of those small breeds were bred to hunt like pests, so–

Lexi: Rats, snakes.

Haley: Yeah, very confused.

Lexi: I guess if you raised it from a puppy around your snake, it might– it might have a different view, but like I don't let my parrot and my dog hang out. Maybe she didn’t let them hang out. That’s chill. I don’t know.

Haley: Yeah, I couldn't find a picture of like the two of them together, and if anyone does, please send it our way. That is– that would be an incredible portrait. Because she also– a lot of her faces are kind of like a “I don't want to be here” face, the classic “please leave me alone” which is iconic. And like one of her wedding photos is between like her, her dad and like her husband, and her face is just like “I so don't want to be like here right now…” Chef's kiss, I can feel it. I felt the energy. My last tidbit, of course, is while she was born in New York City, she was buried in Rock Creek Park Cemetery when she died at the age of 96. And I actually went to Rock Creek Park Cemetery a few years ago, when living in DC. At least like on the outside of it, if it's the same cemetery. I went to many cemeteries in DC, doing like the spooky tours but also getting from like point e– point A to point B, because like Rock Creek Cemetery is like way to get into like Maryland area. Also, anyhoo, on their website she's noted as one of their famous residents, and on their tour I believe that her like tomb, grave area is like part of their cemetery tour. Keep it respectful, people. And that's my story on Alice. 

Alana: I like that she carried a snake around in her purse. That is my aesthetic. That is goals.

Lexi: Snakes are fun little noodles.

Alana: They’re so fun.

Haley: Snakes are fun. I would love a snake. Emily Spinach. I now want like a stuffed snake to name it Emily Spinach. Lexi, I remember that one of your friends or your sister requested this.

Lexi: Yes, my sister Elena Hoffman who is in law school in DC at the George Washington University. She’s not my biological sister, she's my sorority sister she sent me this like– 

Alana: That always confuses me.

Lexi: Sorry.

Alana: Lexi will say that she has a sister and I'm like no you don't and I've– because I forget that she’s in a sorority.

Lexi: Anyway, she sent me this picture that's like one of those tumblr history… we take it with more salt than the Dead Sea.

Alana: Take your internet history lessons with more salt than the Dead Sea.

Lexi: Exactly. And it was like one of those like distorted screenshots where some screenshots it a million times and shares it like a meme. It was– it was about her being crazy, was like smoking cigarettes on the Mall, carrying around a snake, blah blah, a lot of which turns out to be true, so… Elena, thank you for suggesting her. I hope this confirms your weird internet history for you.

Haley: I really thought because I've seen like some of those pictures too, but it kept coming up in sources that I was like “oh they're not gonna give me like misinformation.” If they were, like I wouldn't be surprised, like misinformation comes up even in like what we call good sources. Like correct us if you're more widespread in the Alice history. Because I keep forgetting that like when we do this research, we do like probably like three hours of research, maybe less, maybe more depending on the person, but there are like, people devoted to this for their life's work. So like please, again we say this every episode.

Alana: If we're wrong let us know.

Archival Audio: “My guest, director, producer Valerie Red-Horse Mohl, let's start with the subject. What is the subject of your– your documentary?” “Well the name of the film is Mankiller and that actually is Wilma Mankiller’s last name. Wilma was the first woman elected Principal Chief of the Cherokee Nation and her story is just so relevant today.”

Alana: So my political icon for today is Wilma Mankiller, who has the best last name ever in the entire world, it's amazing. It's actually a military rank that was achieved by one of her ancestors, but kids made fun of her for it. If your name is Mankiller, why would you– why would you make fun of that? Because one time–

Lexi: First off, I would be scared.

Alana: Exactly! Exactly, why wouldn't you be scared? One time as like a grown up she was fed up with it and she said to somebody that it was a nickname and that she'd earned it. And I’m just like, what a woman. Very cool. So, she was born on November 18, Scorpio, 1945 in Tahlequah, Oklahoma. Her father's name was Charley Mankiller and he was Cherokee, and her mother was an Irish Dutch woman named Irene Sutton. And Wilma describes her family as an “activist family” so that is how she grew up to be an activist. She was the sixth of eleven children so right there in the middle. And when she was eleven years old, when she was eleven years old, the federal relocation programs that meant to encourage– I'm doing the massivest air quotes in the whole world– encourage assimilation. (Frustration noises) The racism!

Lexi: I just puked in my mouth a little bit.

Alana: The racism! But they moved her family to San Francisco, where they were poor in Oklahoma and they were destitute in San Francisco. It was bad news bears. She married for the first time in 1963 to an accountant from California named Hector Hugo Olaya de Bardi. They had two daughters, and I'm gonna bring up their names– Gina and Felicia. Felicia is my middle name. I think it was Haley, Haley was it you who I told you my middle name and you thought I was kidding?

Haley: Yeah.

Alana: Felicia is legit my middle name. That's true. I will show you my birth certificates, or my passport probably is more likely because I have that on me. In 1969, there was a nineteen month Native American occupation of the island of Alcatraz. Like nobody was using it, it had yet to become a tourist trap and it wasn’t a prison, and so it was sort of like out of use. But for nineteen months, Native American activists occupied Alcatraz and they like had schools and were just doing really amazing things.

Lexi: That's so cool. I didn't know that about Alcatraz and that is so cool.

Alana: It was amazing. But this happened while Wilma was living in San Francisco, which is you know right near Alcatraz, of course. It awoke something in her. She considered it a benchmark in her activism that inspired her to shift her career more towards political activism as opposed to being a mom and doing other things. Her husband wanted her to stay home and be more of like a traditional– massive air quotes again– housewife, so they got a divorce, which is what I would do as well if my husband was like “no I want you to stay home.” I’d be like first of all, why didn’t you tell me this before we got married we could have saved both of us a whole heap of trouble and just not gotten married in the first place but okay. But they got divorced, and so Wilma moved with her daughters back to her family land in Oklahoma, where she became involved in community government and improvement projects. In 1979, she survived a very bad car accident where her best friend died and she was also diagnosed with– I'm probably gonna pronounce this super wrong– myasthenia gravis, which is a neuromuscular disorder that made it hard to talk, hard to write, hard to use her hands in general. So she started the Bell, Oklahoma water project; and Bell, Oklahoma is a tiny, itty bitty, little town in Oklahoma, so small, most people only spoke Cherokee, and they were in like dangerous living conditions. There was no clean water, it was just a bad time all around. But using federal grant money and local volunteers, she managed to construct eighteen miles of a water system and repair a lot of the dangerous living conditions. While she was recruiting volunteers she met her second husband who was full Cherokee named Charlie Soap. I'm not gonna say nothin about her dad and her second husband having the same name, but okay. That's a deal breaker for me, but you know what Wilma, go for it.

Haley: If I found another person with the name Fuzzy. I think I would have to marry them. I don't know like I feel like that's just too insane not to.

Alana: So Ross Swimmer, in 1983, chose her as a running mate for the Cherokee Nation election as he was running for Principal Chief and he wanted her to be his deputy. And they won, despite sexism and death threats. And in 1985 Swimmer took a position in the federal government and Wilma became full time Chief, full time Principal Chief, not deputy anymore. She served two more terms, for a total of ten years as Principal Chief. She decided not to run for reelection in 1995 because of her health. Under her leadership, tribal enrollment was up, infant mortality was down, literacy was up, unemployment was down. She created a self-sufficient health care system, although that's not really going so great anymore because of Covid and racism. Two really bad things, just in general. Of my least favorite things right now, I would say Covid and racism, really high up there on my list of dislikes. She won the Presidential Medal of Freedom, actually, in 1998 from President Bill Clinton who I'm probably gonna talk about in not a flattering light in a couple weeks. And she died in 2010 of pancreatic cancer. She left a legacy of cultural pride and self sufficiency and self government for the Cherokee people. It was her whole thing was like we can do this ourselves, we aren't helpless, we can create our own governments and our own systems, we can be just as good at government for ourselves as these white people who are like imposing these restrictions on us. We can govern ourselves. And so that was her whole thing was like we don't need outside help. That's the story of Wilma Mankiller. I have a couple of closing statements about– for the episode in general. I have been very frustrated lately with people who say that they stay out of politics.

Lexi: It comes to replace a privilege.

Alana: It comes from a place of privilege!

Lexi: But people in different communities can have different levels of privilege, unfortunately.

Haley: Yes.

Lexi: And they can try to exclude themselves from the political process because they think it doesn't affect them, which is blowing my mind. I just–

Lexi: The place I see it the most, and I'm– I don't know if you guys have noticed this too; so many people outside of museums, old heads in museums, trying to say museums should be apolitical. And this frustrates me to no end. For one, everything is political. The existence of a museum is political.

Haley: Yes.

Lexi: Our existence is political. People working in a museum, people who live and then also work in a museum. It's all political. Everything you do– your kid going to school? Political. Your kid go to school? that's political. You eat food? Politics. You wear glasses? You go to the doctor? All politics. This is all political. So, when people say museums are apolitical, I just want to– or or even when they say museums are bipartisan, museums lean one way or the other. And museums tell stories, and stories always have a bias in them, and museum shouldn't try to be apolitical. Museums should aim to tell stories and to make change in their communities. 

Haley: I’ve had a similar conversation– I will not give like personal details, but the bottom line was that… the argument that this person was trying to say why they shouldn't be political, were all like human rights… it was just like oh well museums are already like not racist, or like not gender biased and it’s like–

Lexi: Well that's wrong.

Alana: That’s just false.

Haley: But they– like they were trying to skirt around the way of saying like, “oh but these aren't, these are human rights stances, like we can talk about those in museums.” Even though like kind of saying that they're like not happening, trying to be on the more of like there is no gender bias there is no like blah blah blah– which is false, but saying like because those are human rights that they're not political, thus like a museum can talk about it, but we can't say like major political statements which–

Lexi: Human rights is political. It shouldn’t be, all humans should have rights, but…

Haley: Yes! Yes!

Alana: That's why they're called human rights.

Haley: The US has made this a political argument, of course like– regardless of what your stance is, like say “oh these are purely human rights,” not everyone sees it that way.

Lexi: And museums are racist.

Haley: Yes, museums are racist.

Lexi: You know, everyday– everyday, I like sit in the shower because I'm just so overwhelmed. And I think “Museums bad. Museums racist. Museums sexist. Me museums? Me learn museums? Me bad. Me racist. Me sexist. What this all for.” And then I say “That’s museums. Long live the museum.” Because I believe museums can be better places, but–

Haley: And we see that a lot.

Lexi: Yes. There are so many museums doing good work, like District Six Museum in South Africa, the Anacostia Community Museum in DC, one closer to home. Like there are so many museums doing good work, actively anti-racist work. But the historical institution, until we admit this organization is founded on racist and sexist principles–

Haley: We’re getting into a whole chunk of my thesis about the origin of museums. I could–

Alana: I was more talking about, in the broader sense. Like the non-museum people who I know who are like “oh I stay out of politics” and who have friends who are opposite sides of the aisle.

Lexi: Oh, “I don’t vote because I don't care”? Like–

Alana: “I don't know because I don't care.” I think there comes a time, you come to realize that just you existing is political.

Lexi: Yes.

Haley: I also think–

Alana: Like, my existence is political just by virtue of who I am.

Haley: Yes. I also want to like reference like Enola Holmes, remember that part where–

Alana: I was thinking about that a lot.

Haley: It was in the cafe and it was Sherlock–

Alana: Sorry, Lexi. 

Haley: And this other cafe human…

Alana: Edith, I think is her name.

Haley: Edith, yes. She was running the cafe and running the upstairs like women learning Jiu Jitsu…

Lexi: The suffragist karate school.

Haley: Yeah, yes. Don’t quote me if it’s Jiu Jitsu.

Lexi: They did not mention the kind, I think it was just martial arts.

Haley: Okay, martial arts. Martial arts. But Sherlock was like “oh I don't get into politics” and…

Lexi: That pissed me off.

Alana: Because like, then she was like “because the system in place benefits you and you don’t want to see it change.”

Archival Audio: “Show me what democracy looks like!” “This is what democracy looks like!” “Show me what democracy looks like!” “This is what democracy looks like!” “Show me what democracy looks like!” “This is what democracy looks like!”

Lexi: You can find this podcast on Twitter and Instagram at LadyHistoryPod. Our show notes and a transcript of this episode will be on ladyhistorypod dot tumblr dot com. If you like the show, leave us a review or tell your friends, and if you don't like the show, keep it to yourself.

Alana: Our logo is by Alexia Ibarra, you can find her on Twitter and Instagram at LexiBDraws. Our theme music is by me, GarageBand, and Ameliea Earhart. Lexi is doing the editing. You will not see us, and we will not see you, but you will hear us, next time, on Lady History.

[OUTRO MUSIC]

Haley: Next week on Lady History, we’re cracking open the history books and talking about some historic and iconic lady authors. Remember, a book a day keeps the stupidity away.

[tatooedlaura-blog]

Skee-bal

@today-in-fic please and thank you :)

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

He’d had to haul ass through the airport, dodging everyone and their irritating, unsupervised rolling suitcases and then, huffing and puffing from lack of oxygen, discovered his flight was delayed by an hour at least. He’d dropped his phone in the hurry, four pieces retrieved in the end, one lost under a maintenance door he didn’t have time to find a guy with a key to open. Now, jammed between two men who had to be linebackers for the Broncos, he prayed in some form for as much alcohol as the stewardess could legally allow him.

He got a bag of pretzels and a Sprite.

Linebacker A to his left sneezed towards him.

The uncovered Sprite went untasted.

With the way his life had been going for the past week, this was actually one of the better moments, sadly enough.

Some kind of asinine weather completed his travels, slowing down flying speed and landing possibilities, circling for 45 minutes before hitting the tarmac fast and bumpy, an enlightening nightmare for everyone in the plane but Mulder, who was sandwiched so solidly between Linebacker A and Linebacker B that he never moved an inch, forward or to the side. Wanting to kiss the ground when he finally stepped off the concourse, he hefted his backpack instead and headed to baggage claim.

We will not talk about the incidents at baggage claim except to say that ‘motherfucker’ was repeated silently in his head a multitude of times.

Car, street, traffic, home!

Only to see his tux still hanging on the closet door where he’d left it a week ago as a reminder that he had a party to go to.

The only thing that made him not want to die about this impending shindig was Scully … Scully in a fancy dress … Scully in a fancy dress drinking fancy liquor and eating fancy food and he’d better get in gear or else she’d be looking all fancy but be pissed as hell inside because he’d left here there unprotected from all those people she really didn’t want to spend her Friday night with.

Although they were Smithsonian uppities so she’d have plenty of conversation fodder but no one to rescue her when she got that look on her face he knew only too well.

Regardless, he hurried, showered, shaved, spritzed and shimmied until he looked like a million bucks and some change, finally pulling up to the National Museum of Natural History fashionable late.

&&&&&&&&&&&

She’d had better weeks … but in the grand scheme, she hadn’t been shot at so in the end, it wasn’t a terrible seven days by any means.

Then again, when Ritter had shot her, she’d at least gotten to sleep in.

She’d been up and out the door every morning at 5am, coming home after midnight, hating with a full on passion anyone and everyone who wasn’t Skinner. The paperwork nightmare had avalanched, Mulder not there to offer an answer to her questioned where involving this witness testimony or that scrap of receipt that the entire case hinged on. She couldn’t bother him, knowing he’d just say, “um, maybe behind that thing that related to the other thing or in that drawer,” and send her on a wild goose chase with the thing she needed being neither in the drawer nor behind the other thing but in fact, still in his coat pocket.

Plus, if she called him, he’d go off his game. He’d be thinking about the case she was asking about instead of the serial nightmare he was trying to imprison until the end of time plus another month just for fun.

So, she left him alone.

Mind you, they had talked everyday since he left but usually only after hours, discussing useless things and nonsense, Scully doing her best to quiet his mind so he could get some sleep, think about the questions he needed to answer and the problems, inherent, that came with those answers. She could feel him, across the country, calm, relax, begin to drift off with slow words and slower breaths, eventually telling him a quiet goodnight and an even quieter sleep well.

But now, knowing he’d be landing in 37 minutes, she, for reasons undwellable in that sliver of time, took a little extra care with her makeup, her hair, twisting that escaped curl into an oddly perfect position, knowing he’d move it when it began catching on her eyelashes while she talked to him, tuck it back, linger a moment, turn red when he realized what he was doing, linger another second then remove himself to a safe distance, drink, talk, return to the beginning of their recycled game.

She held the fantasy for .4 seconds then moved to find her shoes.

&&&&&&&&&

Standing across the room, she saw him come in, do the standard ‘stop and scan’, hope to zone in on his partner, catch the subtle red-hair, pale skin amongst taller, irritatingly grouped men in black.

Men in black.

He was a man in black tonight.

He was amused.

‘Cause … you know … men in black.

Wow, he really needed a nap or a drink, whichever came first.

But on Scully’s end, she saw him unable to find her, turn the wrong direction, head polar opposite to what she figured correctly as the food tables. When he couldn’t find her, he always headed to the next best spot, knowing she’d show up eventually, given he knew her stomach just as well as she did. About to head his way, she wasn’t paying close enough attention and the accosting took her by surprise, finding her suddenly surrounded by four gangly employees whom she had worked with many times and were, from what she could comprehend given her mind was still on Mulder, asking her if she’d like a tour of the archives downstairs.

The boys were nice, polite but slightly overenthusiastic about all things insect, vertebrate, legged and winged and taking into account how much they had helped her and Mulder over the years, she felt a tugging obligation to follow, listen, offer interest in all the proper places when she really wanted a rum and coke and to talk to Mulder.

But she was some kind of decent human being so she gave her tour guides almost an hour before she begged off, claiming starvation and need to circulate for the good of the FBI, her boss, the world in general.

They were just happy they got to show off for her.

&&&&&&&&&

It was indeed a fancy dress and by the time it sidled up beside him, he had seen it, cataloged it, burned it into his memory for all eternity. The partner wearing it wasn’t bad herself, a smile creeping across his face slowly but surely as she walked towards him, scooting in beside as opposed to across the table like normal partners would.

He was very glad they weren’t normal partners.

“So, where have you been hiding?”

“Kidnapped by McMaster, Philips, Squeegie and Tom.”

Sliding his drink into her waiting hand, “you need this more than I do.”

Grateful for the share, she drank, then, “they showed me the archive … downstairs.”

“Downstairs? Sounds ominous. You should have let me tag along.” Shifting his head down towards her, “any of them work up the nerve to ask for a date yet?”

“Squeegie took a deep breath and said ‘Agent Scully’ but then stopped, started sweating and proceeded to lecture for 20 minutes on Acherontia Atropos. It’s the closest he’s gotten so far.” Finishing off the last swallow of his slightly watered-down drink, she looked at him critically, “we should go get some more of those.”

With a grin, “you go grab some food, I’ll get the drinks and meet you back here in two minutes.”

“Deal.” Tugging at his jacket, “leave this here so people know the table’s claimed. I don’t need anymore irritating small talk tonight. I’ve done enough.”

Removing the coat, “back in a flash.” Flash indeed, minute forty-five to be precise, beating his partner by two minutes, able to watch her return with several heaping plates of nibbling nonsense, balanced alone by some act of God, given the height of her heels and the alcohol just beginning to tease her system. He knew it, could see that shine in her eyes and wanting to smile wider than he already was, he held it in, instead reaching out to take a plate, “I beat you back.”

“I had to fight for the last meatballs for you. Hopefully I didn’t leave a bruise on Dennison.”

He honestly, for half a second, wondered if she was serious but then she waved a toothpicked piece of meat under his nose and he didn’t care anymore. Taking it, devouring it, proceeding through three more, he finally slowed, “how’s your drink?”

“Empty. Thanks for bringing me two.”

“Just don’t slam this one or I’ll be pouring you into bed later.”

And he watched her fumble her salami encircled cream-cheese attempt at filling food, nearly dropping it to the table before she recovered with a stutter, “I’ll … I’ve never … I do not slam drinks, Mulder.”

“Okay, little Miss empty glass.”

Hardly in a spot to deny it, given the empty glass in front of her, she shrugged those well-defined, muscle-sculpted shoulders to throw him off his own game a little then nudged him with her foot, “did I tell you you clean up pretty well?”

“You’re not looking too bad yourself.”

“Not too bad?”

Leaning over, leaning in, leaning down, “give me a little while and there’s a really good chance I’ll be telling you that you are the most beautiful person in this room, probably DC and possibly the world.”

That was a nice shot of warmth through her system and trying to keep her voice even, “little while?”

“Need some more liquid courage. Give me 20 minutes, tops.”

“I think you said it just fine without the liquor or the time limit.”

Warming himself, he returned to the plates, fully ready to eat his way through the pile of cheese, “just help me eat some of this, would you?”

With a smile, she did.

&&&&&&&&&&&

Skinner found them shortly after, then several others they’d worked with on occasion, both happily and irritatingly but Benson took the cake, berating Mulder, belittleing Scully and, in the ultimate gesture of asshole-ness, grabbing her ass.

No one saw the ass-grabbing but they definitely saw Scully’s wrist grab, arm twist, drop that fucker to the ground before she broke his shoulder move a moment later. Leaving him in a whimpering pile of crumple suit and tears, she calmly returned to her drink, fourth now by Mulder’s count, third by hers but who cared given he had never been so proud, feeling the need to cheer, to clap, then kick Benson neatly into next week.

Once Benson had been removed and things had returned to stifling party norm, Mulder came back in close as he had earlier, whispering in the general direction of her ear, “I know just what you need.”

Still feeling phantom hand on real ass, she didn’t care what the hell he might have been implying with that loaded statement, she just knew she was going to follow him and she might as well not beat around the bush, so, with a nod, pointing towards the sea of empty glasses in front of her, “I’ll be needing one of those to go.”

“I don’t think they have lids and straws.”

Already moving from the table, “well, we’ll figure something out.” The moment she moved, she winced, “but regardless, I need out of these damn shoes.”

Not giving a rip about the rest of the ballroom, he took her hand, “I will get you out of those damn shoes as soon as I can.”

&&&&&&&&&

He definitely got her out of the damn shoes but not her clothes, as had crossed his mind at some point after the third Rum and Coke. Instead, she was standing, barefoot, in a calf-length, deep-blue dress, hair falling from that girly twist she’d done, debating the best aim for her last throw.

“Hey, Scully?”

“Yeah?”

“If you hit the 100, I’ll buy you a piece of pizza.”

“Get out your wallet.”

And buy he did, a whole pie actually, half for her, half for him and she treated to the pitchers of beer, “I love that this place has Skee-bal and $2 pitchers after 11.”

“Told you I knew just what you needed.”

Eyes twinkling at him over the edge of her glass, she took a long drink before, “it’ll do in a pinch.”

Well, geez.

He really didn’t need to hear that while she wore that dress with those painted toes exposed and up beside him on the booth, bottoms of her feet dirty, smooth legs …

“Ready for another game?”

Tapping his thigh with those same painted toes, “games are good but my feet are getting cold and I’ve been up since 5 this morning. I’d also really like to get out of this dress and into something in a nice purple plaid flannel.”

“Wool socks perhaps?”

Scrunching toes, she nodded, “yes, please.”

Soon in his car, he debated taking her back to the museum to get hers but seeing her falling asleep in the seat beside him, he nudged her arm, leaning in closer, not wanting to startle too much, “hey, why don’t I take you home and we’ll get your car in the morning?”

Barely registering words, English, surroundings, she burrowed into her coat, mumbling something he needed her to repeat, her lips practically touching his ear, “your place.”

“Scully?”

Suddenly awake, understanding her words and his, she sat up, shook her head, “um, sorry. Actually, if you just want to take me to my car, I’ll be fine to drive home.”

Not really sure what had twisted the gravity between them in the last four seconds, “I … I don’t … are you sure? A minute ago you were practically asleep.”

Embarrassment flooding over the last six hours of back and forth between them, she gave him a passing glance and refocused out the window again, “I’ll be fine.”

Slippery slope, uneven ground, unexplored territory, he put the car in drive, worried and just the slightest bit completely pissed off, “okay.”

&&&&&&&&&&

Dropping her off at her car, she called good-night over her shoulder, then, shutting the door, left him even more irritated and before he could decide to be a complete ass, she drove off without so much as a wave out the window.

He chewed on this for a few minutes, then, given time and talent for going off the deep end, he aimed the car in her direction, driving to her apartment automatically, pulling up and noticing, to his surprise, her sitting on the stoop in front of the main door. Not the warmest of nights, his irritation with her cooled with the temperature as he approached her, settled beside her, put his arm around her shoulder, pulling her against him, “what’s wrong with us?”

“Nothing … everything …” leaning in closer, “it’s too early for this conversation and I’m too tired to curb any revelatory confessions.” Moving to stand, “go home, Mulder. Thank you for shoeless Skee-bal and cheap beer but I need to go inside and get some sleep.”

“Why didn’t you go inside when you got home?”

“Because I knew you’d be coming and I didn’t want to have to deal with you at my own door.”

Irritation was beginning to simmer yet again, “deal with me? What about my having to deal with you? I ask you if you want me to bring you home and you freak out, jump out of the car, pretend you’re awake enough to drive? I just wanted to bring you home so you didn’t fall asleep and die trying to be all independent!”

“Both I and the neighbors would appreciate you not yelling anymore, thank you very much.”

Still looking up at her, he boiled over, “I am not yelling! Fuck,” realizing he might not have been yelling but he was indeed louder than a midnight dark street warranted, “I just wanted to make sure you got home all right.”

Giving him a long look from above, contemplating his tired countenance, she shut her eyes, debating the universe as a whole as it applied to her relationship with Mulder, “I got home fine but I’m not sure you will so come inside. I’ve got semi-warm socks and old sweatpants that have seen better decades and I stole from you three years ago anyway and you can have back in you really want.”

“I’m fine.”

Collaring him, she tugged back slightly, “don’t try to ‘I’m fine’ the queen of ‘I’m fining’ … would you just come inside?”

She could see the wheels churning then slowly grinding to a halt before, “why do we make things so hard?”

Now she ruffled through his hair before giving his skull a good squeeze, “easy is not in our nature.”

As he stood, “you’re telling me.”

&&&&&&&&&

Inside the door, closed and locked, bolted and braced against the outside world, she discarded her shoes, dropping her several inches lower, further from him, but unmoving otherwise, head tilted up to see him, “sleep or drink?”

“Liquor or water?”

“Water, Mulder, definitely water. The last thing we need to pour on the nightmare of us is alcohol.”

“We are not a nightmare, Scully. We are just an exhausted mess. There’s a difference.”

Half wishing water wasn’t the correct choice, “it’s a blurry difference at best.”

Pulling her towards him, he kissed her forehead, “if it were an hour earlier, I’d have demanded the liquor but now, I’d just like the socks and sweatpants, please.”

Scully took his hand, pulling him towards the bedroom, “this way.” Inner sanctum bedroom swathed in shadow, she dug up aforementioned clothing by feel alone, handing him pants, t-shirt and socks, “I threw in your Barney Rubble shirt for good measure.”

And they stood, statued, in the dark, handful of clothes between them until, in a hushed voice, edge of sleep sharp, “do you sleep in my clothes?”

Silent but steady, she walked backwards, dug under her pillow and without pretense, pulled a shirt over her head, groped herself for a moment, undid a zipper and a clasp, dress dropping to her feet. Stepping out of it, she returned in front of him, “yes.”

He studied his beloved rag of washed out cotton Big Bird shirt as it sloped over breast and hung to mid- thigh, “do you think about me when you’re falling asleep?”

She nodded.

“Do you dream about me after you have?”

Another nod.

She would hear him thinking fractured, speed of light thoughts but she waited, wondering which direction things would go, until, “I would like to say something but I’m not going to get it right but I’ll try so just … wait until I’m done, okay?”

Third nod made his heart pound.

But he managed words, “I have never seen you more beautiful than right now, wearing my shirt, naked underneath.” He bit his lip, stumbling over the word naked, “and I’d like to, in the future, come to the conclusion that this isn’t as hard as we make it out to be and the only thing wrong with us is the logic of two illogical idiots.”

Scully invaded his space enough to tug at the bottom of his dress shirt, unbuttoning quickly from waist to neck, “help me get your pajamas on and we can crawl into that bed behind me and sleep until we wake up. After that, we can talk but right now, Mulder, sleep.”

He let her drop his shirt to the floor and pull Barney Rubble over his head, smooth material over chest while Mulder undid buckle and belt, pants exchanged swiftly for sweat, dark socks for gray, “left side or right?”

“Left for now but I can’t guarantee I won’t end up in the middle.”

“Fair enough.” Once hunkered down, buried and burrowed, “Scully?”

“Yeah.”

Through layers of comforter and sheet, he found her face, eyes closing fast, finally moving to shift that section of hair from her eyelashes so he could see her clearly, “in the car, why did you say you wanted to go to my place?”

Before she could shut herself up, “because you have that nice, warm water bed and I was cold.” When he just lay there staring at her, she whispered another ‘g’night’ and drifted off, leaving him to wonder just where she would have made him sleep.

[alternativeartifactspodcast-blog]

1 - Ruby Slippers

This week’s episode explores the unique story behind one of America’s most iconic and beloved objects: Dorothy’s Ruby Slippers.

LISTEN NOW

Resources Used (in order of reference)

Smithsonian History

“The Slippers” Documentary

Smithsonian Magazine

Henry Littlefield’s Piece on Allegory

American History Blog on Recovered Slippers

American History Blog on Conservation

Kickstarter Campaign

Learn More about the Ruby Slippers

Antique Roadshow Podcast

The Populist Movement in America

The Ruby Slippers of Oz

To access the transcript, click read more.

Greetings and welcome to Alternative Artifacts, a museum in your ear, the podcast that explores the strange stories behind the most unique objects in museum’s collections. Ever wonder how a gigantic Naked George Washington ended up in the National Museum of American History? Or why there is an entire museum dedicated to art made from human hair? Now you can listen to the stories of America’s most iconic objects from your favorite exhibit or from the comfort of your own home. My name is Lexi and I will be your tour guide. 

[Transition Music]

Our first season will focus on objects in the collections of the Smithsonian Institution. Founded in 1846 with funds donated by British citizen James Smithson, the Smithsonian Institution is the largest museum complex and research centers in the world, and serves as an umbrella organization managing 19 museums and a zoo. Access to all Smithsonian Institution museums is completely free to the public. Beyond these publicly accessible venues, the Smithsonian also manages dozens of research centers throughout the United States and internationally, leading scientific research and disseminating knowledge. Some of the object’s stories we explore will expose the complicated, colonial history of the Institution, some will reveal how museum methods effect objects, and others will provide a glimpse into the lives of objects beyond the confines of the museum. Today’s object falls in the last category. 

Picture this. You enter the American History museum from the bustling DC street Constitution Avenue, you will need to head upstairs to see our first artifact. This object is so famous it has its own special gift shop, instigated an investigation led by the FBI, and inspired a documentary. It is regarded as an object of cultural significance, despite being linked to no significant religious or political event. In the newest renovation of its exhibit, this object now sits on a pedestal in its own room, surrounded by walls decorated with murals that harken to the object’s origin. Poppy flowers, emerald green, a sweet little dog, a girl in a blue dress…I am talking about the Ruby Slippers. An American icon visited as often as the Star Spangled Banner and regarded by generations of movie lovers as a symbol of the American film industry. But how did these slippers become icons of American history? How did they end up property of the federal government? Why is the FBI involved in the science of their preservation? And what is the weird history behind them so few of their visitors actually know about? Today on Alternative Artifacts we investigate the Ruby Slippers. 

[Transition Music] 

In L. Frank Baum’s original book “The Wizard of Oz” the slippers that took Dorothy home were silver. Spoiler alert, if you can even spoil something that’s 119 years old. Some historical scholars argue the fact that the slippers were made of silver was meant to serve as a symbol from American politics. In the 1960s a scholar named Henry Littlefield claimed that Baum’s fairytale of a magical land called Oz was actually a satire. Littlefield argues that Baum’s experience on the prairie, which overlapped with the establishment of the Populist movement, or people’s party, in the region, was fodder for the allegory present in The Wizard of Oz. But this detailing this allegory could make an episode all its own, so for today’s episode we will only be focusing on the ruby colored slippers from the MGM film and how they came to be. 

So how did the slippers we know and love today end up ruby instead of silver? During the early stages of production for the film “The Wizard of Oz,” MGM studios had a script that mentioned the shoes being silver. However, they decided to change the color to red during a round of script edits. There were several reasons for this change, but the most significant was actually quite simple and direct. If you recall the film, the scenes in Kansas are depicted in dull, black & white. The scenes in Oz are bright and colorful. Think of the yellow brick road and the emerald city. This was a very deliberate choice made by the film studio. While the Wizard of Oz, released on August 25, 1939, was not the first major motion picture to use Technicolor technology, the use of this tech was still very new and many audiences had little exposure to color footage. Making the slippers a vibrant color made them “pop” on screen, drawing viewers attention. 

During the production of the film several pairs of the slippers were created, using commercially produced high heels which prop designers dyed red and added sequins to. There are four known surviving pairs of these original prop shoes. Today we will focus on two. First, the Smithsonian National Museum of American History is home to one pair, donated in 1979.

Another museum which possessed a pair of the shoes was the Judy Garland Museum. In 2005, their pair of Ruby Slippers went missing. They disappeared almost without a trace, with the thief leaving behind only a single red sequin. More on this later.

In 2016, the Smithsonian launched a kickstarter campaign to preserve their pair of the Ruby Slippers. Prior to this conservation, the slippers could only remain on display for short periods of time yet remained an iconic object, one visitors inquired about daily. This most recent conservation effort addressed many issues facing the aging footwear. It also included in-depth research into the properties of the materials the shoes were constructed from to better conserve them and similar objects in the future. Then, the team working to restore the slippers received an odd call from an unexpected party inquiring about their research. 

[Transition Music - Suspenseful]

In a plot twist straight out of Hollywood, the Ruby Slipper conservators were about to become forensic scientists. The call was from the Federal Bureau of investigation, who had in their possession a pair of Ruby Slippers recovered in a sting operation. Suddenly, the conservation had become an investigation. The FBI asked the conservators to take a look at the slippers they had confiscated and compare them to the pair from the Smithsonian’s collection. The FBI wanted to know if it was possible for their pair of shoes to be an authentic pair of Ruby Slippers, and perhaps the ones stolen 11 years prior from the Judy Garland Museum. Dawn Wallace, the conservator leading the project, compared the moment she learned that she may be helping identify the pair of stolen slippers to the Indiana Jones films. After all, it is not often a museum professional gets the chance to fight crime. 

Upon examining the FBI’s pair of slippers, Wallace knew that they were in fact an authentic pair of Dorothy’s iconic shoes. This pair of shoes was in fact so similar to the Smithsonian’s pair, it lead to another question. Why were they so similar? What Wallace noticed while trying to answer this question an even more astonishing discovery. When comparing the slippers side by side, it became clear that they were in fact mismatched pairs. The next question the team wanted to address was obvious: did the swap occur before or after filming? The evidence suggests the pairs were in fact swapped when they were made, and filmed as mismatched pairs, just as they are presented and preserved today. This conclusion is drawn from the fact that the construction patterns are similar between the matching shoes, but the wear patterns are similar between the mismatched shoes, suggesting Judy Garland wore and used them mismatched. In other words, the prop team working on the Wizard of Oz made the two pairs of shoes separately, but at some point swapped one shoe of each pair, leading to mismatched pairs being used on the set of the film.

The Ruby Slippers have developed a life beyond MGM’s production of “The Wizard of Oz” and outlived many other homages to the iconic film, including its depiction in Disney’s Great Movie Ride. They serve not only as an attraction for tourists, but as a monument to two major moments in American History: the introduction of technicolor technology to the American people and the immortalization of a wholly American fairytale. Today the Smithsonian’s pair of Ruby Slippers keep the magic alive. They can be viewed daily in their humidity and temperature controlled display case at the Smithsonian National Museum of American History at 1300 Constitution Ave NW, Washingtion DC. 

[Transition Music]

Now here’s the museum tip of the week. Did you know the Smithsonian fossil hall recently reopened after being closed for 5 years? The newly renovated exhibit features 700 fossils and tells the story of 3.7 billion years of earth’s history. The only downside is that the Natural History Museum which houses the collection is also one of the most trafficked museums on the mall. The best time to go to avoid crowds according to a local? Wait until the weather cools down. By the end of October most of the Smithsonians will clear up, but the best time to go for an almost empty museum experience is always the month of January. Happy museum travels.

Want to learn more? Show notes including sources, further reading, links to cool stuff and podcast transcripts for each episode are available through our tumblr, alternativeartifactspodcast.tumblr.com. Alternative Artifacts is hosted through Anchor.fm, a free hosting service for podcasts of all kinds. You can subscribe to us on Anchor.fm directly or through Spotify Podcasts.  Interested in sponsoring an episode? Have an awesome idea for an episode? Want to be a guest star? Email us at alternativeartifactspodcast@gmail.com. Theme music was created by NordGroove and downloaded via Fugue. The sound effects were provided by zapsplat.com. Remember, there is no place like home and never stop exploring. 

[Outro Music]

[lotharb-blog]

It was my first time in DC.

The bus trip from Corning took over nine hours, passing through hill and dale, woods and large swaths of green fields, over rivers, through towns and cities, arriving, after nine hours, at Union Station. It was seven thirty PM.

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Arena

Power

U-Save

Union Station is an impressive building with high segmented arches – echoing feet and constant movement giving the impression of a bee hive.

I spilled out onto the street with my backpack and suitcase, hailing a cab to take me to the HighRoad Hostel in Adams Morgan.

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Union Station

Union Station Bus Terminal

The HighRoad Hostel is ideally located, on 18th street, in the middle of all the restaurants, pubs and esoteric shops in Adams Morgan. What a great place to stay! Friendly and helpful staff, clean, with breakfast included. I shared the room with five other travellers, bunk beds all around.

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DC Metro Station

National Baptist Memorial Church

“O”

Dupont Circle is the closest Metro station from where, after a short walk past the pretties brick row-houses, you catch a red-line train into town.

I specifically went to Washington DC to meet up with Tim Tate. Tim is the co-founder and co-director of the Washington Glass School. We have been Facebook friends for ages and it was a treat to actually meet face to face!

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Washington Glass School

Tim Tate

Tim just returned from Venice. He showed me images of the mind-blowing opening ceremony at Glasstress, a collaboration between artists from all disciples and glass maestros crating art in glass. This is a spectacular official collateral event of the Biennale di Venezia, extending the borders of creative glass within contemporary art. Blow Your Sculpture is similar in vane but not nearly on the scale and prestige Glasstress offers.

The Washington Glass School is a comprehensive facility. They have kilns, a cold shop, cutting and modelling tables. One can also rent private studio spaces. The only thing missing is a furnace. They offer classes and workshops as well as accepting commissions. Tim, in his open and friendly way, gave me a tour of the school and tips on how to make some of the interesting panels for community based projects.

I love this fuzzy feeling of sharing knowledge, homeliness and extended family within the international glass fraternity!

After lunch with Tim and Teri (the WGS Creative Coordinator) I left to be the tourist, head filled to the brim with new ideas and possibilities.

Did you know that Washington DC and Pretoria are Sister Cities…?

I headed to the Smithsonian American Art Museum. Tim gave me this tip and it was totally mind blowing. The depth of works represented there was phenomenal. The building itself is amazing with inlaid marble floors, vaulted ceilings and a magnificently covered courtyard.

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Sculpture of American Girl by Window

The Smithsonian American Art Museum

Covered courtyard at SAAM

As I got to the last exhibits at the top and turned left, my heart skipped a beat. Nam June Paik’s, one of my all-time favourite artists, whose work, Electronic Superhighway: Continental U.S., Alaska, Hawaii, was set up in its fullest glory. All 336 television sets radiating moving imagery at full blast!

From the Smithsonian website:

“Today, the Internet and twenty-four-hour broadcasting tend to homogenize the customs and accents of what was once a more diverse nation. Paik was the first to use the phrase “electronic superhighway,” and this installation proposes that electronic media provide us with what we used to leave home to discover.”

On day two I walked around the White House to maybe get a glimpse of the US president… (not really), and noticed the flags being half-mast. Stopping and asking some friendly police officers (and there were many about) why the flags were half-mast, they told me it was the National Peace Officers Memorial Day, honouring fallen police men and women.

Interesting…

Taking another tip from Tim I went to the Renwick Gallery, which is situated just around the corner from the White House. It’s part of the Smithsonian American Art Museums and houses American crafts and decorative arts with some amazing glass works by artists such as Tim Tate, Karen LaMont, Norwood Viviano, Judith Schaechter and more.

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Norwood Viviano, Mining Industries: Downtown Boston

Judith Schaechter

I see that there will be an upcoming show by Ginny Ruffner titled Reforestation of the Imagination opening end June 2019…

What strikes me is the support by institutions such at the Smithsonian maintaining and showing important works of art but also the support of private funding and endowments to make these purchases possible. There is a foresight which promotes growth and understanding for future generations by this generous support which is somewhat lacking at home. I find that works housed within these institutions give the artists whom they represent a foothold to build, not just their own carriers, but also their mediums and modes of expression in a much broader sense and ultimately an industry of talented young creatives.

If the broader public isn’t stimulated on the diversity of ideas, craftsmanship and materials then they can’t develop a full picture of what is possible. Without this generous monetary support and genuine 21st century focused cultural foresight, South Africa and the continent will loose the development of its diverse hand-skilled knowledge and artistic heterogeneity to generic reproductions or assimilated tastes.

…in my opinion.

All the Smithsonian Museums don’t charge entrance. This makes for long days of walking and wondering through enormous spaces absorbing beautiful and diverse voices of art, science and history. It’s just impossible to see al the museums and their contents within a few days, let alone actually savouring the contents of the ones you do make the time to see.

My main focus was to look at art. Then there is no place as the Hirschhorn, National Museum of Modern Art. This strikingly round ring building floating above stilts houses some magnificent treasures. Once inside one walks three stories in a circuit, rising, via escalator, a level on each lap with new and profound exhibits.

Walking the Hirschhorn circuit through modern and contemporary art history I saw Claes Oldenburg’s Bathtub and a three channel video environment called Safe Conduct by Ed Atkins. I also contemplated my first Ron Mueck sculpture, Big Manand loved the visual combination of Brancusi’s Torso of a Young Man with Felix Gonzalez-Torres’ Untitled (for Jeff) open hand in the background.

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Ed Atkins, Safe Conduct

Ed Atkins, Safe Conduct

Ed Atkins, Safe Conduct

Brancusi & Felix Gonzalez-Torres

Claes Oldenburg, Bath Tub

Ron Mueck, Big Man

After these long days it was always a pleasant reprieve to return to the HighRoad Hostel in Adams Morgan, buying a cold beer on the way up the hill and engage in stressless conversation with fellow travellers from all over the world. I had a couple of good laughs… 😉

My last day was spent in the National Museum of African Art. This too is a Smithsonian institution which is housed next to the Smithsonian Castle on the National Mall. At first glance this smallish building gives the impression of housing a quaint display or two, referencing some “typical African” styles with a few examples of metal smithing in their show Striking Iron: The Art of African Blacksmiths.

I couldn’t have been more wrong!

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Mask

Smithsonian African Art Museum

Mask

Once entering the “little house” and checking my backpack into a locker I descended a central staircase… with several subterranean levels unfolding beneath me.

On the first terrace large marble plaques inscribed with the words:

“The Smithsonian Institution gratefully acknowledges the support of these donors who provided funds matching congressional appropriations for the construction of this building, which was dedicated September 28, 1987.”

Reading through all the names (twice) – and there are over 160 names of foundations, corporations, countries and more – only the United Republic of Cameroon represents any true continental African affiliation. This was quite disappointing.

Looking down, over the balcony of this first terrace, was a projection of Willian Kentridge’s Felix in Exile. I remember seeing it for the first time as a student, maybe during the time we assisted Kentridge and Doris Bloom with the Fire/Gate project for the first Johannesburg Biennale in 1995.

Down I went… and each level revealed enormous curated caverns, well lit, displayed and detailed in historic as well as recent works. Imagine my surprise discovering Willie Bester’s Apartheid Laboratory! (Gift of Gilbert B. and Lila Silverman & Jerome L. and Ellen Stern, 2017-15-1)

Farther down I went… past the masks and sculptures, colourful textiles and gold jewellery, down to the bottom where the show was I wanted to see – Striking Iron.

Entering the gallery past a photo portal of a fiery sun my tired feet were forgotten for a moment. This last cavern housed a brilliantly informative display of metal work, specifically African blacksmithing, its history, tools and processes, with many examples – swords, bells, anvils, sculptures, etc.

A few video nooks showed how things are still done till this day, with hand bellows breathing heat into coke fires and anvils changing their roles to hammers… inventively inspirational.

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Anvil

Anvil & Hammer

This being my last day in DC, and all, feet hurting and head filled with new images I couldn’t just leave.

The National Air and Space Museum was around the corner, well, just down the road…

With energy levels almost on critical I stumbled into the NASM. This enormous space (pardon the pun…) was crowded to the brim with moms and dads, kids of all ages and general space nerds such as myself.

My mission objective was to go to the shop and grab some memorabilia. Feet were flattened by miles of walking and gravity started taking it’s toll…

Lunar Lander

It was like being a kid again. Rockets to the left, the Lunar Lander to the front, Russian and American space suits… the list goes on. Unfortunately (but fortunately for my feet) the museum was in the middle of rearranging and curating new exhibitions. I managed to peek over a barrier to see a Junkers 52 which my dad used to fly in during the war time.

Exhausted, I walked to the nearest Metro station, jumped on the train, got out at Dupont Circle, walked the last mile up to the Hostel, grabbed a beer, packed my bags and left early the next morning heading for New York.

All photos were taken with my iPhone 7 using Darkr and 8mm app.

A few days in Washington DC - Glass, Art, Science and much much more. It was my first time in DC. The bus trip from Corning took over nine hours, passing through hill and dale, woods and large swaths of green fields, over rivers, through towns and cities, arriving, after nine hours, at Union Station.

[scramblingminds]

Full Prompt:  So I’m just obsessed with some cuddly Desus. Would you be ok writing something like them all on that run again, Desus are together and Daryl is keeping watch with Rick and/or Carol or someone else you prefer while the others are sleeping all over in their tents or not. Paul is bunking with Maggie because I love them and Enid is there too because she won’t leave her best friend. Rick and Daryl talk about their lovers ( whatever, catching up since they don’t live together maybe?) Then they are relieved and Daryl GO back to his partner, finally found him with Maggie and co and just snuggle close to him to cuddle and enjoy his sleep warmth and his presence even if asleep. Maybe he wakes up they talk and cuddle lovingly some more before settling in again? I’m deep into nose bumping nowadays and sleepy cuddles.

Well, @syrabylene here you go! I just love writing for you and all your amazing prompts. I hope this is what you were hoping for. Enjoy hon!

Warnings: None, just the fluff. Rate G. @vbabe14

Warmth

Daryl took the first unfiltered inhale from his cigarette when the scruff of boots beside followed, “Aren’t you supposed to be quitting?”  

Daryl looked up from the log he was sitting on, breathing smoke out of his nose, “Ya gonna tell my ma on me?”  

Rick snorted a laugh as he sat down next to him, joining him on his watch. It had been a long day, still a few longer ones still would be ahead. DC was getting closer with each day they traveled, the horses not as fast as cars but it had been ages since they had used one of those.  

That’s why they were heading for the capital, for the wagons sitting so pretty in the Smithsonian. Daryl’s bike was a rare exception, since it used barely an eighth of the gas a car would and went three times further. Daryl glanced at the horses as they grazed on the grass of the clearing, he just didn’t trust the things after last time.  

Two big tents sat not far from his and Rick’s backs. Paul was in one, grouped up with Maggie, Enid, Michonne, Aaron, Carol and Ezekiel. The lanterns in the tents were turned down low, voices kept quiet as the early evening stretched into night.  

Daryl took a few more hits before he crushed the rolled tobacco under his boot, Rick sighed next to him as they stared out at nothing, “How have you been?”

It was a big question. Daryl and Rick rarely saw each other anymore. Daryl had been at Hilltop since the war ended, bouncing from place to place but never truly staying in Alexandria anymore. In the last year of rebuilding Daryl had found more than a place to lay his head at Hilltop.  

Daryl had Paul; as a friend, a companion on rubs, back up on any and everything and most of all, as a lover. Daryl never would have guessed all those years ago when the first walkers started chomping he would find love in the apocalypse they created. He had gotten that with Paul though, someone who so openly and clearly loved him. Plus, he was one tough son of a bitch, making it all the better.  

Daryl was almost surprised to admit, “Everything is good, real good.”  

Rick smiled at him, it was kind but the edges were just a bit strained, “I’m glad, brother.”  

Daryl figured Rick missed him, hell he missed the leader most days. Too much had happened though, it wasn’t realistic for them to live together anymore. They weren’t who they use to be before the war even if they still did care about each other. Plus, Daryl couldn’t be that close to Negan, never again.  

“How is everything with ya?” Daryl asked after a few awkward moments.  

“Stressful but alright, things are starting to finally feel almost normal again,” Rick smiled, “Judith is growing like a weed. You should come visit her soon, she misses you.”  

“I will,” Daryl promised, it had been months since his last trip to Alexandria, his Lil Asskicker nearly refused to leave his side the whole time, “Someone has to teach her how to be badass.”

Rick laughed softly, “She’s got Michonne for that.”  

Daryl had to concede to that. The silence that followed over the next few hours was much more comfortable. Daryl was just debating if he wanted to smoke another of his very few smokes, even if Carol would disapprove, when Rick cleared his throat, “You know, Jesus could teach her to be badass better than any of us.”

Daryl looked over at him in the dim moonlight, Rick pointedly not looking at him. Daryl snorted, biting his lip to keep from outright laughing. In all the time Daryl and Paul had been together Rick had never said one way or the other about how he felt on the matter. Daryl figured this was Rick’s lame, sweet but still so lame, way of giving his approval.  

“That he could,” Daryl nudged Rick with his shoulder to get the man to relax with a sigh, “But what’s it say about us that we love people so much tougher than us?”  

Rick smirked, “That we got some damn fine taste.”  

——————–

Daryl soundlessly opened the flap to the tent, Rosita had come and relieved him but Rick decided to wait a bit longer before turning in. The lantern was down to a pale-yellow glow as he carefully waded through the bodies lining the tent floor.  

Daryl smiled as he found Paul in the dog pile. Maggie was snuggled to his side, his head lulled against hers like maybe they had been whispering before dozing off. Maggie sniffled in her sleep, rolling over to her other side and pressing into Enid’s back. Daryl’s sleeping bag was laid between Paul and Aaron’s.  

Daryl slipped his boots off before easing himself into the bag. He had barely laid down flat when Paul rolled over. Daryl smiled as he looped his arm around his shoulders, tugging him even close to rest his head on Daryl’s chest. Paul’s hair was falling from the top knot he had twisted it into, it tickled at Daryl’s face.

Daryl brought his hand up, gently easing the hair tie free and sliding it onto his wrist. Paul’s hair fell messily down to his shoulder and over his face. Daryl pressed his lips to the top of his head as he carded his fingers through the strands to ease the tangles. He slipped the curtain of hair back over Paul’s shoulder so he could see his face, not expecting to find sleepy eyes blinking up at him.

“Hey, babe,” Paul murmured, voice low and deep from sleep, “What time’s it?”

Daryl kissed his forehead, “Early, still some time fer we gotta go.”

“You’re so warm,” Paul hummed rubbing his bearded cheek to Daryl’s as he wound his arm tight around Daryl’s waist, “Missed you.”  

Daryl bumped his nose against Paul’s, watching his scrunch with a smile, before kissing his high cheek bone, “Go back to sleep, darlin’, I’m here now.”  

Paul nuzzled his nose against Daryl’s once more before snuggling his face down into Daryl’s neck. Daryl sighed as he relaxed, sleep felt like it was approaching blissfully quickly. He didn’t even flinch when another warm body pressed against his side. He didn’t need to look to know it was Aaron who was drawn to his body heat.  

It was nice to be like this, it had been ages since their family had been so peacefully together. Daryl dropped off into a content, warm sleep just a few breaths later.  

[365elephantsoap]

THE LAST TRAIN TO CLARKSVILLE

Union Station does it for me. Every time I walk into that space, I feel like I am stepping into something sacred. The way the sun streams in through the floor to ceiling windows causes me to gasp and even when it is a mess like it is right now because they’re getting the holiday decorations up, I can’t help myself from getting lost in the light and shadows reflected on the marble tile floor. The last time we were there, we had some time to kill as we waited for a shop to open. The morning had turned from normal errands to feeling touristy. I looked at Michael and said “Let’s go see if there’s a train we can get on and just go somewhere.” Now, as I just typed that, I know exactly who I sound like. It’s almost like he’s whispering in my ear.

Dad.

Dad was my adventure partner. He was the one giving permission to ride any and all airplanes at the fly-ins. It was his truck that we’d jump into to go chase down the hot air balloon or follow the firefighters out to a grass fire. Dad was the one that would suggest we go to the airport and see how many airports we could go see in one day. We never got around to that one and now I have serious regrets for not ever responding to this crazy shenanigan with anything other than “YES!'“ All of those car dealership drives he did? He didn’t do those just for the money. He did those drives because he loved the adventure of hitting the road and just going somewhere.

Micheal and I walked to the Amtrak area to look at the schedule and if there had been any trains leaving in the next ten minutes, I think I could have convinced Michael to get on it with me. Really, though we could have been killing time at the airport or the bus station and I would have said “hey, let’s try to catch the next flight or bus!” It’s just that those places aren’t as nice to hang out in as our Union Station. Our airport is a giant mess at the moment with three different terminals and construction for a new airport that will connect all the terminals in progress. The whole romantic setting of our Union Station should draw more train traffic than it really does. As it is now, there are only two or three train departures a day from the Kansas City station and we had already missed the morning ones. If we had been there earlier, we could have had dinner in Chicago. Instead we just looked into taking the train to Chicago for Spring Break next year.

The train is a mode of travel I have yet to experience for more than an hour or so. The last time I was on a train was in December of 2019 and I rode it from DC to Baltimore so I could spend the evening with Bradley and Ethan. That was the last trip I took before the world shut down and thank goodness it included that epic party in the Smithsonian National Museum of Natural History. In my mind, riding the train is just like all the old black and white movies I used to watch. It is a romantic notion and I have dreams of riding the train just to sit for hours staring out the window or focusing on some writing project. My friend Jeff has ridden the train a number of times from here to St. Louis to visit his parents and he said that he always ends up sitting next to the drunk guy. He said there’s always drunk people on the train. My friend Jason disagrees with Jeff. He said he’s always had a pleasant time riding the train. I think they’re both right.

That day, Michael and I didn’t get on a train. We settled for planning our next adventure and just being tourists in this city with riding the streetcar and wandering around Pryde’s in Westport, talking ourselves out of ridiculous kitchen gadgets. As we walked around Westport trying to decide on lunch, our friend Aaron yelled at us from across the street, where he was bartending at Kellys and we ended up having a beer while chatting with Aaron while we figured out where to eat lunch. We had another beer at Mickey’s Hideaway where we settled for lunch. The walls are papered with an old high school yearbook and Michael pointed to a picture behind me. It was picture of James Westphal, a local celebrity thanks to Paul Rudd’s character in Anchorman. They were college roommates and Michael knows James from his bartending days.

We eventually made our way back to where we had parked the car, getting almost as many steps in as we would roaming around on vacation. And, yeah…we didn’t get on an Amtrak train to head out on an adventure, but we didn’t really need to in order to have a day of being a tourist.