#it's immaturity and entitlement at its finest

[fratboykate]

Hi, So since you're a writer, how do you feel about the whole Jenna Ortega situation? I've seen a lot of writers taking a dig at and I don't necessarily agree especially in such important moment like now , but Idk, thought?

She deserves every bit of it. You'd be hard pressed to find a writer who isn't rightfully fucking pissed at her horrible attitude and straight up disrespectful comments so unless she's planning on writing every script for the rest of her career I can guarantee you she's going to have a tough time, at least behind the scenes. And I know her stans love to say "Oh but the showrunners haven't said anything bad about her!" Yeah, because unlike her they're professionals 🤷🏽‍♀️

[privateistanbultour]

Comical tuft over his forehead

His head was shaved all but a comical tuft over his forehead, giving him the appearance, in his party-colored cilecons, of a small unpainted clown. When the piece of money was thrown into the water and had sunk for a few seconds, he leapt in, feet first, after it, and he was never long in reappearing at the surface, holding it up in his hand, always overtaking it before it had reached the bottom. These lads were succeeded by a floating band of music, the members of which played the Marseillaise and the Girondins’ Hymn, out of compliment to the French steamer. But a shilling brought them round in an instant to our National Anthem, and Ille Britannia; and as wo left the port we heard the last chords, inappropriately enough, of “ Home, sweet home.” They had evidently got up the latter to excite the people on their way home from India, in the quarantine harbor, but had immature notions of its application.

Geneva under certain winds

For the last month the Mediterranean had been as calm as a lake — much more so, indeed, than that of Geneva under certain winds — and the fine weather promised to continue. This was fortunate for several reasons; the chief one being that the Scam- andre was a very old boat, not calculated to encounter heavy seas; and, in fact, was said to be making her last voyage before condemnation to short coasting or river service. With great exertion she could be propelled at the rate of something under eight knots an hour; but the engineer respected the age of her machinery, and did not tax its powers. She was also very dirty, and the crew did their best to keep her in countenance; at the same time, there were few places on deck to sit down upon, except such accommodation as the coils of rope, water-barrels and chicken coops afforded.

It is far from my intention, however, in thus speaking of the old Scamandre, to run down the admirable service of French mail steamers plying between Marseilles and the Levant generally. On the contrary, their extreme punctuality, their moderate fares, nail their excellent arrangements, entitle them to the attention of all tourists to whom time anil money are objects. There is as little distinction observable between the appointments of their first and second class passengers, as on the foreign railways; and as there is, on the other hand, a great difference in the price, and no servants, nor persons considered by the administration to be in any way unfit society for educated and well-bred people, are admitted into tile cabin, this part of the boat is the most extensively patronized. We mustered about twenty passengers, and the first-class cabin had not above four or five, who looked so dull and lonely, that we quite commiserated them private balkan tours. Indeed, one of them — a good-tempered American — preferred now and then coming to dine with us, “to know what was going on,” as he said. There were two other classes still. The third, who had a species of cabin, still fore, to retire to at night; and the fourth, who bivouacked upon deck.

And very pleasant was even this last way of travelling. I had come down a deck passenger from Genoa to Leghorn; from Leghorn to Civita Veechia; and from Naples to Malta, with a knapsack (which comprised all my luggage, and which I had carried many times across the Alps) for my pillow; and I had learned to sleep as soundly upon planks as upon feathers. In the mild, warm nights no bed-clothes were required ; and in the finest palace in the world there was no such ceiling to a sleeping chamber as the deep blue heaven afforded, spangled with its myriads’ of golden stars, which gleamed and twinkled with a luster unknown to us in northern England.

[religionistanbul]

Comical tuft over his forehead

His head was shaved all but a comical tuft over his forehead, giving him the appearance, in his party-colored cilecons, of a small unpainted clown. When the piece of money was thrown into the water and had sunk for a few seconds, he leapt in, feet first, after it, and he was never long in reappearing at the surface, holding it up in his hand, always overtaking it before it had reached the bottom. These lads were succeeded by a floating band of music, the members of which played the Marseillaise and the Girondins’ Hymn, out of compliment to the French steamer. But a shilling brought them round in an instant to our National Anthem, and Ille Britannia; and as wo left the port we heard the last chords, inappropriately enough, of “ Home, sweet home.” They had evidently got up the latter to excite the people on their way home from India, in the quarantine harbor, but had immature notions of its application.

Geneva under certain winds

For the last month the Mediterranean had been as calm as a lake — much more so, indeed, than that of Geneva under certain winds — and the fine weather promised to continue. This was fortunate for several reasons; the chief one being that the Scam- andre was a very old boat, not calculated to encounter heavy seas; and, in fact, was said to be making her last voyage before condemnation to short coasting or river service. With great exertion she could be propelled at the rate of something under eight knots an hour; but the engineer respected the age of her machinery, and did not tax its powers. She was also very dirty, and the crew did their best to keep her in countenance; at the same time, there were few places on deck to sit down upon, except such accommodation as the coils of rope, water-barrels and chicken coops afforded.

It is far from my intention, however, in thus speaking of the old Scamandre, to run down the admirable service of French mail steamers plying between Marseilles and the Levant generally. On the contrary, their extreme punctuality, their moderate fares, nail their excellent arrangements, entitle them to the attention of all tourists to whom time anil money are objects. There is as little distinction observable between the appointments of their first and second class passengers, as on the foreign railways; and as there is, on the other hand, a great difference in the price, and no servants, nor persons considered by the administration to be in any way unfit society for educated and well-bred people, are admitted into tile cabin, this part of the boat is the most extensively patronized. We mustered about twenty passengers, and the first-class cabin had not above four or five, who looked so dull and lonely, that we quite commiserated them private balkan tours. Indeed, one of them — a good-tempered American — preferred now and then coming to dine with us, “to know what was going on,” as he said. There were two other classes still. The third, who had a species of cabin, still fore, to retire to at night; and the fourth, who bivouacked upon deck.

And very pleasant was even this last way of travelling. I had come down a deck passenger from Genoa to Leghorn; from Leghorn to Civita Veechia; and from Naples to Malta, with a knapsack (which comprised all my luggage, and which I had carried many times across the Alps) for my pillow; and I had learned to sleep as soundly upon planks as upon feathers. In the mild, warm nights no bed-clothes were required ; and in the finest palace in the world there was no such ceiling to a sleeping chamber as the deep blue heaven afforded, spangled with its myriads’ of golden stars, which gleamed and twinkled with a luster unknown to us in northern England.

[happysofiaa]

Comical tuft over his forehead

His head was shaved all but a comical tuft over his forehead, giving him the appearance, in his party-colored cilecons, of a small unpainted clown. When the piece of money was thrown into the water and had sunk for a few seconds, he leapt in, feet first, after it, and he was never long in reappearing at the surface, holding it up in his hand, always overtaking it before it had reached the bottom. These lads were succeeded by a floating band of music, the members of which played the Marseillaise and the Girondins’ Hymn, out of compliment to the French steamer. But a shilling brought them round in an instant to our National Anthem, and Ille Britannia; and as wo left the port we heard the last chords, inappropriately enough, of “ Home, sweet home.” They had evidently got up the latter to excite the people on their way home from India, in the quarantine harbor, but had immature notions of its application.

Geneva under certain winds

For the last month the Mediterranean had been as calm as a lake — much more so, indeed, than that of Geneva under certain winds — and the fine weather promised to continue. This was fortunate for several reasons; the chief one being that the Scam- andre was a very old boat, not calculated to encounter heavy seas; and, in fact, was said to be making her last voyage before condemnation to short coasting or river service. With great exertion she could be propelled at the rate of something under eight knots an hour; but the engineer respected the age of her machinery, and did not tax its powers. She was also very dirty, and the crew did their best to keep her in countenance; at the same time, there were few places on deck to sit down upon, except such accommodation as the coils of rope, water-barrels and chicken coops afforded.

It is far from my intention, however, in thus speaking of the old Scamandre, to run down the admirable service of French mail steamers plying between Marseilles and the Levant generally. On the contrary, their extreme punctuality, their moderate fares, nail their excellent arrangements, entitle them to the attention of all tourists to whom time anil money are objects. There is as little distinction observable between the appointments of their first and second class passengers, as on the foreign railways; and as there is, on the other hand, a great difference in the price, and no servants, nor persons considered by the administration to be in any way unfit society for educated and well-bred people, are admitted into tile cabin, this part of the boat is the most extensively patronized. We mustered about twenty passengers, and the first-class cabin had not above four or five, who looked so dull and lonely, that we quite commiserated them private balkan tours. Indeed, one of them — a good-tempered American — preferred now and then coming to dine with us, “to know what was going on,” as he said. There were two other classes still. The third, who had a species of cabin, still fore, to retire to at night; and the fourth, who bivouacked upon deck.

And very pleasant was even this last way of travelling. I had come down a deck passenger from Genoa to Leghorn; from Leghorn to Civita Veechia; and from Naples to Malta, with a knapsack (which comprised all my luggage, and which I had carried many times across the Alps) for my pillow; and I had learned to sleep as soundly upon planks as upon feathers. In the mild, warm nights no bed-clothes were required ; and in the finest palace in the world there was no such ceiling to a sleeping chamber as the deep blue heaven afforded, spangled with its myriads’ of golden stars, which gleamed and twinkled with a luster unknown to us in northern England.

[istanbultea]

Comical tuft over his forehead

His head was shaved all but a comical tuft over his forehead, giving him the appearance, in his party-colored cilecons, of a small unpainted clown. When the piece of money was thrown into the water and had sunk for a few seconds, he leapt in, feet first, after it, and he was never long in reappearing at the surface, holding it up in his hand, always overtaking it before it had reached the bottom. These lads were succeeded by a floating band of music, the members of which played the Marseillaise and the Girondins’ Hymn, out of compliment to the French steamer. But a shilling brought them round in an instant to our National Anthem, and Ille Britannia; and as wo left the port we heard the last chords, inappropriately enough, of “ Home, sweet home.” They had evidently got up the latter to excite the people on their way home from India, in the quarantine harbor, but had immature notions of its application.

Geneva under certain winds

For the last month the Mediterranean had been as calm as a lake — much more so, indeed, than that of Geneva under certain winds — and the fine weather promised to continue. This was fortunate for several reasons; the chief one being that the Scam- andre was a very old boat, not calculated to encounter heavy seas; and, in fact, was said to be making her last voyage before condemnation to short coasting or river service. With great exertion she could be propelled at the rate of something under eight knots an hour; but the engineer respected the age of her machinery, and did not tax its powers. She was also very dirty, and the crew did their best to keep her in countenance; at the same time, there were few places on deck to sit down upon, except such accommodation as the coils of rope, water-barrels and chicken coops afforded.

It is far from my intention, however, in thus speaking of the old Scamandre, to run down the admirable service of French mail steamers plying between Marseilles and the Levant generally. On the contrary, their extreme punctuality, their moderate fares, nail their excellent arrangements, entitle them to the attention of all tourists to whom time anil money are objects. There is as little distinction observable between the appointments of their first and second class passengers, as on the foreign railways; and as there is, on the other hand, a great difference in the price, and no servants, nor persons considered by the administration to be in any way unfit society for educated and well-bred people, are admitted into tile cabin, this part of the boat is the most extensively patronized. We mustered about twenty passengers, and the first-class cabin had not above four or five, who looked so dull and lonely, that we quite commiserated them private balkan tours. Indeed, one of them — a good-tempered American — preferred now and then coming to dine with us, “to know what was going on,” as he said. There were two other classes still. The third, who had a species of cabin, still fore, to retire to at night; and the fourth, who bivouacked upon deck.

And very pleasant was even this last way of travelling. I had come down a deck passenger from Genoa to Leghorn; from Leghorn to Civita Veechia; and from Naples to Malta, with a knapsack (which comprised all my luggage, and which I had carried many times across the Alps) for my pillow; and I had learned to sleep as soundly upon planks as upon feathers. In the mild, warm nights no bed-clothes were required ; and in the finest palace in the world there was no such ceiling to a sleeping chamber as the deep blue heaven afforded, spangled with its myriads’ of golden stars, which gleamed and twinkled with a luster unknown to us in northern England.

[ottomanistanbul]

New Post has been published on

Comical tuft over his forehead

His head was shaved all but a comical tuft over his forehead, giving him the appearance, in his party-colored cilecons, of a small unpainted clown. When the piece of money was thrown into the water and had sunk for a few seconds, he leapt in, feet first, after it, and he was never long in reappearing at the surface, holding it up in his hand, always overtaking it before it had reached the bottom. These lads were succeeded by a floating band of music, the members of which played the Marseillaise and the Girondins’ Hymn, out of compliment to the French steamer. But a shilling brought them round in an instant to our National Anthem, and Ille Britannia; and as wo left the port we heard the last chords, inappropriately enough, of “ Home, sweet home.” They had evidently got up the latter to excite the people on their way home from India, in the quarantine harbor, but had immature notions of its application.

Geneva under certain winds

For the last month the Mediterranean had been as calm as a lake — much more so, indeed, than that of Geneva under certain winds — and the fine weather promised to continue. This was fortunate for several reasons; the chief one being that the Scam- andre was a very old boat, not calculated to encounter heavy seas; and, in fact, was said to be making her last voyage before condemnation to short coasting or river service. With great exertion she could be propelled at the rate of something under eight knots an hour; but the engineer respected the age of her machinery, and did not tax its powers. She was also very dirty, and the crew did their best to keep her in countenance; at the same time, there were few places on deck to sit down upon, except such accommodation as the coils of rope, water-barrels and chicken coops afforded.

It is far from my intention, however, in thus speaking of the old Scamandre, to run down the admirable service of French mail steamers plying between Marseilles and the Levant generally. On the contrary, their extreme punctuality, their moderate fares, nail their excellent arrangements, entitle them to the attention of all tourists to whom time anil money are objects. There is as little distinction observable between the appointments of their first and second class passengers, as on the foreign railways; and as there is, on the other hand, a great difference in the price, and no servants, nor persons considered by the administration to be in any way unfit society for educated and well-bred people, are admitted into tile cabin, this part of the boat is the most extensively patronized. We mustered about twenty passengers, and the first-class cabin had not above four or five, who looked so dull and lonely, that we quite commiserated them private balkan tours. Indeed, one of them — a good-tempered American — preferred now and then coming to dine with us, “to know what was going on,” as he said. There were two other classes still. The third, who had a species of cabin, still fore, to retire to at night; and the fourth, who bivouacked upon deck.

And very pleasant was even this last way of travelling. I had come down a deck passenger from Genoa to Leghorn; from Leghorn to Civita Veechia; and from Naples to Malta, with a knapsack (which comprised all my luggage, and which I had carried many times across the Alps) for my pillow; and I had learned to sleep as soundly upon planks as upon feathers. In the mild, warm nights no bed-clothes were required ; and in the finest palace in the world there was no such ceiling to a sleeping chamber as the deep blue heaven afforded, spangled with its myriads’ of golden stars, which gleamed and twinkled with a luster unknown to us in northern England.

[istanbulgaybars]

Comical tuft over his forehead

His head was shaved all but a comical tuft over his forehead, giving him the appearance, in his party-colored cilecons, of a small unpainted clown. When the piece of money was thrown into the water and had sunk for a few seconds, he leapt in, feet first, after it, and he was never long in reappearing at the surface, holding it up in his hand, always overtaking it before it had reached the bottom. These lads were succeeded by a floating band of music, the members of which played the Marseillaise and the Girondins’ Hymn, out of compliment to the French steamer. But a shilling brought them round in an instant to our National Anthem, and Ille Britannia; and as wo left the port we heard the last chords, inappropriately enough, of “ Home, sweet home.” They had evidently got up the latter to excite the people on their way home from India, in the quarantine harbor, but had immature notions of its application.

Geneva under certain winds

For the last month the Mediterranean had been as calm as a lake — much more so, indeed, than that of Geneva under certain winds — and the fine weather promised to continue. This was fortunate for several reasons; the chief one being that the Scam- andre was a very old boat, not calculated to encounter heavy seas; and, in fact, was said to be making her last voyage before condemnation to short coasting or river service. With great exertion she could be propelled at the rate of something under eight knots an hour; but the engineer respected the age of her machinery, and did not tax its powers. She was also very dirty, and the crew did their best to keep her in countenance; at the same time, there were few places on deck to sit down upon, except such accommodation as the coils of rope, water-barrels and chicken coops afforded.

It is far from my intention, however, in thus speaking of the old Scamandre, to run down the admirable service of French mail steamers plying between Marseilles and the Levant generally. On the contrary, their extreme punctuality, their moderate fares, nail their excellent arrangements, entitle them to the attention of all tourists to whom time anil money are objects. There is as little distinction observable between the appointments of their first and second class passengers, as on the foreign railways; and as there is, on the other hand, a great difference in the price, and no servants, nor persons considered by the administration to be in any way unfit society for educated and well-bred people, are admitted into tile cabin, this part of the boat is the most extensively patronized. We mustered about twenty passengers, and the first-class cabin had not above four or five, who looked so dull and lonely, that we quite commiserated them private balkan tours. Indeed, one of them — a good-tempered American — preferred now and then coming to dine with us, “to know what was going on,” as he said. There were two other classes still. The third, who had a species of cabin, still fore, to retire to at night; and the fourth, who bivouacked upon deck.

And very pleasant was even this last way of travelling. I had come down a deck passenger from Genoa to Leghorn; from Leghorn to Civita Veechia; and from Naples to Malta, with a knapsack (which comprised all my luggage, and which I had carried many times across the Alps) for my pillow; and I had learned to sleep as soundly upon planks as upon feathers. In the mild, warm nights no bed-clothes were required ; and in the finest palace in the world there was no such ceiling to a sleeping chamber as the deep blue heaven afforded, spangled with its myriads’ of golden stars, which gleamed and twinkled with a luster unknown to us in northern England.

[hagiasophiart]

Comical tuft over his forehead

His head was shaved all but a comical tuft over his forehead, giving him the appearance, in his party-colored cilecons, of a small unpainted clown. When the piece of money was thrown into the water and had sunk for a few seconds, he leapt in, feet first, after it, and he was never long in reappearing at the surface, holding it up in his hand, always overtaking it before it had reached the bottom. These lads were succeeded by a floating band of music, the members of which played the Marseillaise and the Girondins’ Hymn, out of compliment to the French steamer. But a shilling brought them round in an instant to our National Anthem, and Ille Britannia; and as wo left the port we heard the last chords, inappropriately enough, of “ Home, sweet home.” They had evidently got up the latter to excite the people on their way home from India, in the quarantine harbor, but had immature notions of its application.

Geneva under certain winds

For the last month the Mediterranean had been as calm as a lake — much more so, indeed, than that of Geneva under certain winds — and the fine weather promised to continue. This was fortunate for several reasons; the chief one being that the Scam- andre was a very old boat, not calculated to encounter heavy seas; and, in fact, was said to be making her last voyage before condemnation to short coasting or river service. With great exertion she could be propelled at the rate of something under eight knots an hour; but the engineer respected the age of her machinery, and did not tax its powers. She was also very dirty, and the crew did their best to keep her in countenance; at the same time, there were few places on deck to sit down upon, except such accommodation as the coils of rope, water-barrels and chicken coops afforded.

It is far from my intention, however, in thus speaking of the old Scamandre, to run down the admirable service of French mail steamers plying between Marseilles and the Levant generally. On the contrary, their extreme punctuality, their moderate fares, nail their excellent arrangements, entitle them to the attention of all tourists to whom time anil money are objects. There is as little distinction observable between the appointments of their first and second class passengers, as on the foreign railways; and as there is, on the other hand, a great difference in the price, and no servants, nor persons considered by the administration to be in any way unfit society for educated and well-bred people, are admitted into tile cabin, this part of the boat is the most extensively patronized. We mustered about twenty passengers, and the first-class cabin had not above four or five, who looked so dull and lonely, that we quite commiserated them private balkan tours. Indeed, one of them — a good-tempered American — preferred now and then coming to dine with us, “to know what was going on,” as he said. There were two other classes still. The third, who had a species of cabin, still fore, to retire to at night; and the fourth, who bivouacked upon deck.

And very pleasant was even this last way of travelling. I had come down a deck passenger from Genoa to Leghorn; from Leghorn to Civita Veechia; and from Naples to Malta, with a knapsack (which comprised all my luggage, and which I had carried many times across the Alps) for my pillow; and I had learned to sleep as soundly upon planks as upon feathers. In the mild, warm nights no bed-clothes were required ; and in the finest palace in the world there was no such ceiling to a sleeping chamber as the deep blue heaven afforded, spangled with its myriads’ of golden stars, which gleamed and twinkled with a luster unknown to us in northern England.

[streetofistanbul]

Comical tuft over his forehead

His head was shaved all but a comical tuft over his forehead, giving him the appearance, in his party-colored cilecons, of a small unpainted clown. When the piece of money was thrown into the water and had sunk for a few seconds, he leapt in, feet first, after it, and he was never long in reappearing at the surface, holding it up in his hand, always overtaking it before it had reached the bottom. These lads were succeeded by a floating band of music, the members of which played the Marseillaise and the Girondins’ Hymn, out of compliment to the French steamer. But a shilling brought them round in an instant to our National Anthem, and Ille Britannia; and as wo left the port we heard the last chords, inappropriately enough, of “ Home, sweet home.” They had evidently got up the latter to excite the people on their way home from India, in the quarantine harbor, but had immature notions of its application.

Geneva under certain winds

For the last month the Mediterranean had been as calm as a lake — much more so, indeed, than that of Geneva under certain winds — and the fine weather promised to continue. This was fortunate for several reasons; the chief one being that the Scam- andre was a very old boat, not calculated to encounter heavy seas; and, in fact, was said to be making her last voyage before condemnation to short coasting or river service. With great exertion she could be propelled at the rate of something under eight knots an hour; but the engineer respected the age of her machinery, and did not tax its powers. She was also very dirty, and the crew did their best to keep her in countenance; at the same time, there were few places on deck to sit down upon, except such accommodation as the coils of rope, water-barrels and chicken coops afforded.

It is far from my intention, however, in thus speaking of the old Scamandre, to run down the admirable service of French mail steamers plying between Marseilles and the Levant generally. On the contrary, their extreme punctuality, their moderate fares, nail their excellent arrangements, entitle them to the attention of all tourists to whom time anil money are objects. There is as little distinction observable between the appointments of their first and second class passengers, as on the foreign railways; and as there is, on the other hand, a great difference in the price, and no servants, nor persons considered by the administration to be in any way unfit society for educated and well-bred people, are admitted into tile cabin, this part of the boat is the most extensively patronized. We mustered about twenty passengers, and the first-class cabin had not above four or five, who looked so dull and lonely, that we quite commiserated them private balkan tours. Indeed, one of them — a good-tempered American — preferred now and then coming to dine with us, “to know what was going on,” as he said. There were two other classes still. The third, who had a species of cabin, still fore, to retire to at night; and the fourth, who bivouacked upon deck.

And very pleasant was even this last way of travelling. I had come down a deck passenger from Genoa to Leghorn; from Leghorn to Civita Veechia; and from Naples to Malta, with a knapsack (which comprised all my luggage, and which I had carried many times across the Alps) for my pillow; and I had learned to sleep as soundly upon planks as upon feathers. In the mild, warm nights no bed-clothes were required ; and in the finest palace in the world there was no such ceiling to a sleeping chamber as the deep blue heaven afforded, spangled with its myriads’ of golden stars, which gleamed and twinkled with a luster unknown to us in northern England.

[lookingistanbul]

Comical tuft over his forehead

His head was shaved all but a comical tuft over his forehead, giving him the appearance, in his party-colored cilecons, of a small unpainted clown. When the piece of money was thrown into the water and had sunk for a few seconds, he leapt in, feet first, after it, and he was never long in reappearing at the surface, holding it up in his hand, always overtaking it before it had reached the bottom. These lads were succeeded by a floating band of music, the members of which played the Marseillaise and the Girondins’ Hymn, out of compliment to the French steamer. But a shilling brought them round in an instant to our National Anthem, and Ille Britannia; and as wo left the port we heard the last chords, inappropriately enough, of “ Home, sweet home.” They had evidently got up the latter to excite the people on their way home from India, in the quarantine harbor, but had immature notions of its application.

Geneva under certain winds

For the last month the Mediterranean had been as calm as a lake — much more so, indeed, than that of Geneva under certain winds — and the fine weather promised to continue. This was fortunate for several reasons; the chief one being that the Scam- andre was a very old boat, not calculated to encounter heavy seas; and, in fact, was said to be making her last voyage before condemnation to short coasting or river service. With great exertion she could be propelled at the rate of something under eight knots an hour; but the engineer respected the age of her machinery, and did not tax its powers. She was also very dirty, and the crew did their best to keep her in countenance; at the same time, there were few places on deck to sit down upon, except such accommodation as the coils of rope, water-barrels and chicken coops afforded.

It is far from my intention, however, in thus speaking of the old Scamandre, to run down the admirable service of French mail steamers plying between Marseilles and the Levant generally. On the contrary, their extreme punctuality, their moderate fares, nail their excellent arrangements, entitle them to the attention of all tourists to whom time anil money are objects. There is as little distinction observable between the appointments of their first and second class passengers, as on the foreign railways; and as there is, on the other hand, a great difference in the price, and no servants, nor persons considered by the administration to be in any way unfit society for educated and well-bred people, are admitted into tile cabin, this part of the boat is the most extensively patronized. We mustered about twenty passengers, and the first-class cabin had not above four or five, who looked so dull and lonely, that we quite commiserated them private balkan tours. Indeed, one of them — a good-tempered American — preferred now and then coming to dine with us, “to know what was going on,” as he said. There were two other classes still. The third, who had a species of cabin, still fore, to retire to at night; and the fourth, who bivouacked upon deck.

And very pleasant was even this last way of travelling. I had come down a deck passenger from Genoa to Leghorn; from Leghorn to Civita Veechia; and from Naples to Malta, with a knapsack (which comprised all my luggage, and which I had carried many times across the Alps) for my pillow; and I had learned to sleep as soundly upon planks as upon feathers. In the mild, warm nights no bed-clothes were required ; and in the finest palace in the world there was no such ceiling to a sleeping chamber as the deep blue heaven afforded, spangled with its myriads’ of golden stars, which gleamed and twinkled with a luster unknown to us in northern England.

[istlifestyle]

Comical tuft over his forehead

His head was shaved all but a comical tuft over his forehead, giving him the appearance, in his party-colored cilecons, of a small unpainted clown. When the piece of money was thrown into the water and had sunk for a few seconds, he leapt in, feet first, after it, and he was never long in reappearing at the surface, holding it up in his hand, always overtaking it before it had reached the bottom. These lads were succeeded by a floating band of music, the members of which played the Marseillaise and the Girondins’ Hymn, out of compliment to the French steamer. But a shilling brought them round in an instant to our National Anthem, and Ille Britannia; and as wo left the port we heard the last chords, inappropriately enough, of “ Home, sweet home.” They had evidently got up the latter to excite the people on their way home from India, in the quarantine harbor, but had immature notions of its application.

Geneva under certain winds

For the last month the Mediterranean had been as calm as a lake — much more so, indeed, than that of Geneva under certain winds — and the fine weather promised to continue. This was fortunate for several reasons; the chief one being that the Scam- andre was a very old boat, not calculated to encounter heavy seas; and, in fact, was said to be making her last voyage before condemnation to short coasting or river service. With great exertion she could be propelled at the rate of something under eight knots an hour; but the engineer respected the age of her machinery, and did not tax its powers. She was also very dirty, and the crew did their best to keep her in countenance; at the same time, there were few places on deck to sit down upon, except such accommodation as the coils of rope, water-barrels and chicken coops afforded.

It is far from my intention, however, in thus speaking of the old Scamandre, to run down the admirable service of French mail steamers plying between Marseilles and the Levant generally. On the contrary, their extreme punctuality, their moderate fares, nail their excellent arrangements, entitle them to the attention of all tourists to whom time anil money are objects. There is as little distinction observable between the appointments of their first and second class passengers, as on the foreign railways; and as there is, on the other hand, a great difference in the price, and no servants, nor persons considered by the administration to be in any way unfit society for educated and well-bred people, are admitted into tile cabin, this part of the boat is the most extensively patronized. We mustered about twenty passengers, and the first-class cabin had not above four or five, who looked so dull and lonely, that we quite commiserated them private balkan tours. Indeed, one of them — a good-tempered American — preferred now and then coming to dine with us, “to know what was going on,” as he said. There were two other classes still. The third, who had a species of cabin, still fore, to retire to at night; and the fourth, who bivouacked upon deck.

And very pleasant was even this last way of travelling. I had come down a deck passenger from Genoa to Leghorn; from Leghorn to Civita Veechia; and from Naples to Malta, with a knapsack (which comprised all my luggage, and which I had carried many times across the Alps) for my pillow; and I had learned to sleep as soundly upon planks as upon feathers. In the mild, warm nights no bed-clothes were required ; and in the finest palace in the world there was no such ceiling to a sleeping chamber as the deep blue heaven afforded, spangled with its myriads’ of golden stars, which gleamed and twinkled with a luster unknown to us in northern England.

[nibblecat1]

LL Amnesia Headcanon

We know that red lifers break all ties and alliences in last life, but why? I say its bcuz When they are on red life, the begin to forget the things they once knew. It's slow, at first. Grian returns to the place he once called home, haunted with memories of his friends adventures. Cleo faces her former alliance, speaking to lizzie and ren as ex friends rather than strangers.

But, as time moves forward, things start to become harder and harder to recall. Details blend together, faces reduced to colors, memories fogged up and barely retreivable. But, why would they care? All grian knows is the way Cleo's eyes light up when Joel mentions a trap. How bdub's bandana is stained with blood from old scars, and the way it mottles his long white hair. The feeling of his own hands on the course grain of a sturdy axe, muscles tensed and primed for any and everything. What else is there to know?

There were other people around them, yes. Most of them looked at him and his friends with fear, resentment, uneasiness. He could do what he wanted, take what he wanted, kill who he wanted. For all he knew, this was how the world always was.

And yet, others looked at him with sorrow. Unmeasurable guilt, their eyes almost pleading him to act on something unknown.

For some reason, this kept him up at night. These people, his enemies, should fear him, not pity him. Who did they think they were, powerless to stop him, and yet entitled enough to look down upon him?

It was a routine patrol with Joel. The two stalked through the forest, bantering casually, a large building slowly arising in front of them. He was familiar with this building, the stone structure created to keep him and his friends away from the powerless housed within it. As he and joel turned to walk the perimeter of the building, grian unknowingly let his hand travel the length of the wall, following the lines of grit and mortar that held the building together. His fingernail caught on something.

Grian stopped and looked at the wall, letting his casual curiousness get the best of him. Next to his hand, roughly inscribed in the stone, was a jagged inscription of a few names, and a date.

He smiled, not noticing when Joel let out a huff of impatience at his diversion. His eyes followed the names: the word impulse was haphazardly chipped into the top of the stone, the letters getting smaller as the inscriber assumedly ran out of room. An awfully done heart with the letters M+M sat underneath it, with the name "Jimmy" plastered sideways around it. Below that, there were a few phallic images (or attempts to), and at the very bottom of the rock, in big block font, the letter 'G' was carved.

Grian straightened up, and started to catch up with Joel. So these people really were big babies, huh? Immature little snowflakes. No wonder they were hiding like children. They deserved to be hunted, all 5 of them. Natural selection at its finest.

Grian stopped.

5?

Had there always been five? Last time he saw them, it had been only been the 4, clutching to eachother like scared rabbits. Did he miscount?

He quickly backtracked, and counted the names again. Impulse, M and M, Jimmy, and... G.

G? Which of the rabbits was G? He could have sworn-

His heart stopped.

G.

Memories flooded him.

Laughter, coming from inside the mountain room. He turned, smiling, although not really knowing why. He saw his friends, huge grins plastered on all their faces as they zoomed uncomfortably close in on eachother with telescopes. One of them noticed him, calling him over, his dark eyes shining with glee.

"Grian!"

"Grian"

"GRIAN"

He blinked. His knee hurt, and his arms were trembling underneath his weight. The grass underneath him was wet, but he could've sworn..

"I thought you had finally kicked it, buddy"

His eyes snapped up to meet the voice. In front of him, Joel kneeled, looking at his friend haphazardly.

Gut reaction. Grian lurched backwards with terror, it was joel, it was dangerous, he was red, it was-

Joel. His friend. His ally. They were both red. What was going on?

"Woah dude, I-"

"Get out of here. You're outnumbered."

Joel was interupted by a strong voice coming from his left. Joel turned, grian twisting upwards against the wall. With wide eyes, grian turned toward their adversary-er-adversaries.

In front of him were the rabbits, looking solemn and practiced, swords unsheathed. The dark one, with the suit, mumbo, broke his facade to glance quickly at grian with that pleading look he had so despised.

Joel smiled, edging over to a tree with some unconvincing casual chat.

More memories flooded G. The patrol, the bait, the trap, THE TRAP. Panic. Desperation. His eyes darted towards the tree and the lever he had helped place. He knew that it would eliminate the rabbits, his FRIENDS, where they stood.

So, when Joel, his ally, reached to pull the lever, Grian did the only thing he absolutely remembered how to do.

He put an axe through his red friends head.

Joel stopped, his hand falling to his side, his body faltering before tipping over and landing with a thump on the stoney dirt below.

Grian stood above him, stance wide, axe dripping with that crimson red he was so used to. He was breathing hard, but he was silent.

His eyes flicked up to those he had just saved. They were in shock, taken aback, some numbly staring at the body oozing blood at their feet.

silence.

"..Grian" The one with the strong voice, impulse, starts, his voice wavering.

"what have you just done?"

[datingadviceonreddit]

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