#page 3037

[pesterloglog]

Rose Lalonde, Dave Strider

Act 5, page 3036-3044

-- tentacleTherapist [TT] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] --

TT: Hi there.

TG: nak nak nak

TT: Don't mind me.

TT: I'm just waiting for that guy on the pile of sharp objects to wake up.

TG: THE GLASSES ARE TALKING AGAIN

TG: naknaknaknaknaknaknaknaknaknaknaknaknaknak

TT: If you don't stop nakking, I will turn you into a thorn bush.

TG: :V

TG: :(

TG: hey

TG: what just happened

TT: You fell asleep.

TT: Orange Bird Dave killed some monsters and flew away.

TT: Jade fired a bullet at an imp and vanished.

TT: And you woke up.

TG: oh yeah

TG: so shes here then

TT: Yes.

TG: is she ok what was going on there

TT: Yes, she's fine.

TG: i guess i should catch up with her

TT: You already are.

TG: i am

TT: Future you is.

TG: oh ok time travels involved

TG: thats all you needed to say everythings cool and under control then

TT: How was the nap?

TG: weird

TG: and kind of boring

TG: i was in your dream room for a while spying on you

TG: being all creepy and dream duplicitous and shit

TT: It's ok.

TT: I was being similarly wake duplicitous.

TG: whats with your book collection

TG: or

TG: dream book collection

TG: all your books are bizarre and terrible

TT: No, my books are great.

TT: I can recommend some good titles for the next time you're asleep.

TG: nah

TG: but yeah i understand defending your collection i guess if you were in my dream room and talking shit about my awesome dream portraits of dream stiller and dream snoop or whatever wed have to have a fucking talk

TT: Did you do anything on the moon besides rifle through my belongings?

TT: Such as remove your shades and turn your gaze Ringward, by any chance?

TG: oh

TG: yeah

TG: i did

TT: What did you see?

TG: horrible things

TT: Horribleterrible?

TG: yeah

TG: it was like

TG: peering through the dark portal of an eldritch red lobster

TG: and scoping out its all you can eat seafood buffet

TG: and

TG: when i saw them

TG: their voices became clearer

TT: What were they saying?

TG: i couldnt really focus on anything specific

TG: but

TG: in totality

TG: im pretty sure it was

TG: like

TT: ?

TG: a plea for help

TT: That's good.

TG: no it was disturbing

TG: so i slapped my shades back on

TG: went and perved up some sleeping girls room to take my mind of it

TT: It means they're reaching out to you.

TG: oh god why would i want that

TG: im not about to get molested by calamari with fucking teeth

TG: use your powers and like

TG: stroke a mummys paw or some horseshit and open a dark channel

TG: tell them to keep their lecherous flagella to themselves

TT: You're going to have to help them.

TT: Even if you don't like them.

TT: They're being massacred.

TT: Presently, already, and still to come.

TG: whats that mean

TT: It means time doesn't work rationally out there.

TT: Nor does space.

TT: But that doesn't change the reality of the threat.

TG: who cares if theyre getting killed

TG: theyre hideous and obnoxious

TT: You're underestimating the nature of the threat.

TT: At this point, the threat isn't to our session, or any given universe.

TT: It's to the perpetuation of reality itself.

TT: You wouldn't be saving them, per se.

TT: You'd be saving everything.

TG: oh ok cool

TT: They've revealed some of their secrets to me already, and given me a few errands to run.

TT: This is why you might have observed some unusual behavior from me.

TG: oh shit youre kidding

TG: no really are you serious i didnt even notice

TG: fuck mind = blown

TT: Once these convulsions of explosive laughter subside and finish rocking my very foundation,

TT: I might point out that you haven't really been as astute as you're implying.

TT: You've deliberately fogged your vision your entire life with ironic eyewear while awake, and while asleep, though perfectly alert, you've chosen to ignore your surroundings.

TT: But now that you've seen them, you have a choice to make.

TG: ok

TT: They will only tell me so much.

TT: They would like an audience with the prince of the moon as well.

TT: We are like the emissaries to what lies beyond this small bubble in their unfathomable dark foam.

TT: Derse skirts its edge, and during the lunar eclipse, we graze it, and that's when their intent for us becomes clear.

TT: I'm doing my part, but they have a mission for you as well.

TG: what am i supposed to do

TT: Listen to them.

TT: My understanding is,

TT: They will teach you how to navigate the unnavigable.

TT: The result should be a map.

TG: like

TG: a treasure map

TT: No.

TT: Something a little more astronomical.

TT: Like a star chart with no stars.

TT: Hence the challenge.

TG: why

TT: To plot a course through the Furthest Ring.

TG: plot a course to what

TT: The power source of the first guardians.

TG: oh right the green sun ok

TG: wait sorry

TG: i mean the Green Sun my bad

TT: Yes, that's much better.

TG: whats the deal with this thing

TG: i mean aside from giving jades dog his devil powers

TG: and by extension i guess jack

TT: What's the deal with it?

TG: yeah

TT: I don't know that there is a deal with it.

TT: Beyond the deal you just described.

TT: It is what it sounds like.

TT: A huge sun out in the literal middle of nowhere, and it is bright green.

TT: It is simply,

TT: The Green Sun.

TG: how big

TG: i need a sense of scale here

TG: is it like the size of our sun

TG: or bigger

TG: or is it only as big as like

TG: planet fucking jupiter

TT: It is nearly twice the mass of our universe.

TG: ok thats pretty fucking big

TG: see how important that contextualization was now i know how fucking impressed i should be

TG: i mean hopy shit thats huge

TT: Happy I could help.

TG: so ok i make a map to this thing

TG: with the help of a million rambunctious gross tentacle mutants

TG: and then i guess we go there for some reason

TT: Yes.

TG: why do we need a map

TG: cant they just

TG: tell us what direction its in

TG: point a spaceship that way

TG: blast off to adventure

TT: No.

TT: The geometry of the Furthest Ring is too complex.

TT: Remember, its spacetime is labyrinthine.

TT: In fact, it's not really accurate to call it spacetime at all.

TT: Since it is outside the domain of any created universe, where those properties have become instantiated and stabilized.

TG: i can kind of get that time is messed up there

TG: with like loops and causality paradoxes and shit like that

TG: being the knight of time here

TG: not really sure why navigating the space would be a problem though

TG: space isnt my thing remember

TG: what is it like

TG: full of wormholes or something

TT: It depends.

TT: The greater the distance you travel through it, the less reliably time flows.

TT: And the more time you spend in it, the less reliably space behaves.

TT: Time and space aren't as different as you might think.

TG: i thought you werent supposed to know shit about either

TG: seeing as youre the seer whatever that means

TT: I think it means I'm supposed to know shit about the big picture.

TT: Which includes tidbits like that.

TT: But the insides of my shoes stay free from the grit of the minutia.

TG: fair enough

TG: so i take my map and fly to this thing

TT: No, I do.

TG: ok you fly to it

TG: then what

TT: That depends on if John is successful.

TG: you mean with the quest youre sending him on

TT: Yes.

TG: is there anything you do thats not sending dudes on quests

TT: Nothing whatsoever.

TG: so hes got to get the cancer out of skaia right

TT: Yes, The Tumor.

TG: yeah

TG: so whats The Tumor do

TG: i mean the tumor

TG: jesus can we stop with the fancy colored text bullshit

TT: I guess so.

TT: I thought it was more fun that way.

TG: well ok you can keep doing it then

TT: Thanks.

TT: The Tumor is quite a large growth at the center of the battlefield.

TT: He won't be able to remove it without fully realizing his abilities.

TG: ok cool what is it

TT: Can you promise you won't tell him?

TT: It would probably make him more nervous than he needs to be if he knew.

TG: ok i wont say anything

TG: just tell me

TT: It's a bomb.

TT: It is set to detonate precisely when the reckoning ends.

TT: This is how long we have to put this plan into motion.

TG: what the hell is a bomb doing in there

TT: It could be a feature of any session not meant to bear fruit.

TT: A means to wipe out a null session rather than leaving it lingering in paradox space for eternity.

TT: Or it could be a mutation specific to our session.

TT: I really don't know.

TG: first time for everything i guess

TG: seriously whered you get all this info

TG: did you get it all from the gods

TG: are these just a bunch of orders youre following

TT: Not exactly.

TT: They've urged me in certain directions and guided my exploration.

TT: I've obtained some answers from them, but ultimately, this idea is mine.

TT: Plus, I have other sources.

TT: One in particular has been quite illuminating.

TG: what

TT: I've been referring to him as an informant, when people ask.

TT: Which isn't often.

TG: what you mean a troll

TT: No.

TT: It's a man who exists in another universe.

TT: He wants to die.

TG: sounds like a really credible dude sign me up for trusting everything he says

TT: Only as credible as the omniscient tend to be.

TG: oh so he knows everything

TT: Yeah, I think that's what omniscient means.

TT: But maybe I'll ask him about that, since he's the omniscient one.

TG: even if he is omniscient which he probably isnt what if hes just lying

TT: He says he doesn't lie.

TT: For some reason, I believe him about that.

TT: He's a convincing fellow.

TG: whys he want to die

TT: He no longer has a purpose now that he's done everything required to summon his master.

TT: As a first guardian, he's completely indestructible.

TT: Well, almost completely.

TG: wait

TG: what

TT: His power is derived from the same source as Earth's guardian.

TT: And conveniently, that of our nemesis as well.

TG: ok i get it now

TT: When John delivers the tumor,

TT: And I do mean The Tumor,

TT: I and I alone will navigate the Furthest Ring.

TT: And I will destroy the sun.

TT: By which I do mean the GREEN MOTHER FUCKING SUN.

TT: And in case it wasn't clear,

TT: I won't be coming back.

TG: whoa fuck

TG: a suicide mission are you serious

TG: no bullshit thats not happening

TG: hey look suddenly everything we just talked about was useless because its time to make a plan that doesnt fucking suck

TT: Let's not be so dramatic.

TT: I was talking about my dream self.

TT: She's the one who won't be returning.

TG: oh

TG: haha yeah thats fine i guess

TG: those fuckers are all kinds of mad expendable

TG: way to leave me hanging there

TG: for someone whos saying lets cool it on the drama the whole i wont be coming back thing is a pretty theatrical bombshell

TG: for future reference

TT: That's true.

TT: Your outburst was pretty sweet though.

TG: yeah i know

TG: so when do i do my thing

TG: make this map

TG: which i guess is just like

TG: a solid black piece of paper

TG: this is going to be fucking stupid isnt it

TT: If there's one thing you have more than any of us, it's time.

TT: So, whenever you like.

TT: As long as conventionally speaking, it's quite soon.

TG: alright

TG: so

TG: dog it as long as possible

TG: then travel back to about now and go to sleep

TT: Sure.

TT: And if you have trouble going to sleep, maybe you can ask your patron troll to trick the telepathic one into putting you to sleep again.

TG: what

TT: Each of us seems to have a troll infatuated with helping us. Haven't you noticed?

TG: no

TT: What about the psychopath who's currently helping you?

TG: oh yeah terezi

TG: no shes cool

TT: Isn't that camaraderie blossoming into some sort of interspecies whatever?

TG: its blossoming into an interspecies partnership in incredibly shitty cartooning

TG: what do you mean get her to trick someone into putting me asleep again

TG: when did that happen

TT: Just now.

TG: who did that

TT: That would be John's patron troll.

TG: god

TG: fuckin trolls

TG: too many of them who can even keep track of this shit

TG: which ones yours

TG: is it the absurd juggalo one that would be hilarious

TT: There's a juggalo one?

TG: yeah see what i mean

TT: She's contacting me now actually.

TG: oh ok

TG: well im suddenly not interested so go talk to your fairy god troll

TG: ill be over here paving the way for your elaborate dream suicide

TG: when i feel like getting around to it i mean

TT: Thanks.

TG: later

-- turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering tentacleTherapist [TT] --

[leftistfeminista]

In raising awareness about the sexual abuse of women political prisoners in Chile, most of the sources are in Spanish. So it is an rare opportunity for english-speakers to learn more from this dialogue which was in english and put out by Sitio de Memoria Iran 3037 also known as Venda Sexy and one of the main torture centers for women. These events are of relevance to activist women around the world to expose the ways capitalist misogynists have exploited our female sexuality to destroy our politics.

Christina Godoy-Navarrete had previously spoken out in 1998 about some of the horrors she personally endured-

"Although we were blindfolded we found ways of taking a look. In particular, some of the women including, myself, recognised one of the men who raped us. He is still in Chile, he is free. The living conditions were awful. There was just one toilet for over 100 people. Instead of toilet paper we were given pages from books by writers and philosophers to use. The secret police wanted to show their contempt for ideas. They thought ideas were dangerous."

Here is a transcript from the above video where she talks about their goals-

I am now representing the Association of Memory of Human Rights at 2:30. Venda Sexy or Iran 3037, as it's also called, um, although I live in London, I have been exiled in London for many years. I'm now beginning to visit and go to Chile more often. For the past few years, I have been participating in the activities that the association has been trying to do. In fact, the person that is coordinating is Alejandra, Alejandra H, who is the person who actually asked me if I could represent them here today, particularly because of the English issue, although I think it probably would have been alright if it had been translated.

So, this Association was created not long ago as a means initially to try to recover the building Venda Sexy one of the secret torture centers that was created during the Pinochet regime and which was one of the torture centers all over the country. But this had a particular connotation because one of the main types of torture was the sexual torture that was applied to women and to some men as well.

The main remit of the association has been not only to try to recover the building, the house itself, and it has taken many, many years to achieve that. This was finally achieved, I have to say, this year successfully because the house was expropriated by the Government. So now it's going to become a physical statement of what happened there. Hopefully, all the activities that will be carried out there will be in order to maintain the memory and for people to visit it and to provide a day-to-day reminder of what happened in that place, particularly the sexual tortures that were inflicted on women.

I am also one of the seven women that presented the first complaint against the state in relation to the issue of political sexual violence, sexual torture, the use of sexual torture as a means of particularly degrading women, and dehumanizing them. Although I have to say some men were also subjected to this type of torture, but this was widespread among women. In order to dehumanize us and to show our weakness and to convert it instead of resistance and political activism into pathetic victims. That's something that we've always refused to be named as victims. We always said that we are survivors of this violence, of concentration and imprisonment, and all that. So, that has been really around those issues.

Gender mainstreaming and memory activism: Perspectives from Chile and Turkey with the Hafiza Merkezi Center, We were invited by the coordinator of the Memory and Feminism line of the Museum of Memory and Human Rights of Chile, which is part of the International Coalition of Sites of Consciousness. This coalition has participated in international projects related to women's memories and intergenerational intersections. In this context, the organization Hafiza Merkezi (Center for Truth, Justice and Memory), founded in Istanbul (Turkey) in 2011, aims to uncover the truth about past violations of human rights, strengthen collective memory about these rapes and support survivors in their search for justice ( https://hakikatadalethafiza.org/en/#) . Currently, they are carrying out an exchange project with the Museum of Memory and Human Rights, with the purpose of learning about the experience of the museum, as well as that of other memory spaces and sites, and civil society organizations, from a gender and generational perspective (involving new generations). This exchange meeting, called "Gender mainstreaming and memory activism: Perspectives from Chile and Turkey," included the participation of the Hafiza Merkezi Center, as well as other Turkish organizations (Demos, Hevi LGBTİ+, and Bellek Müzesi). The session took place on November 21 from 11:00 a.m. to 1:00 p.m., in online format and in English. During the workshop, experts and activists working in the fields of gender, collective memory and peacebuilding in Chile and Turkey exchanged their experiences and knowledge. Our representative at this event was Cristina Godoy, a survivor of Iran 3037, who currently resides in the United Kingdom.

[websitebloggers]

How Can Split Testing Benefit a Website Blogger? How Does Split Testing Benefit a Website Blogger? How Can Split Testing Help Your Website Blogging Goals? How Can I Use Split Testing to Boost My Blog's Performance? How Can I Use Split Testing to Improve My Website Blogging? Idealistically, when testing pages or emails, only changing one element at a time would be ideal. Unfortunately, that's often not practical. Many tests require thousands of visits before reaching statistical significance, which can take time. While you wait, however, you can still optimize your website to increase conversions and drive more sales. To read the rest of this article, please click on the link below: https://websitebloggers.com/how-can-split-testing-benefit-a-website-blogger/?feed_id=3037&_unique_id=653e3fced9002

[sufism786-blog]

AWLIYAON KI SHAN : “Huzur Nabi e Akram sallallaho alayhe waalehi wasallam ne irshad farmaya: Allah ta’ala Jibrael (alay salaam) ko bulate hai aur puchte hai ke aye Jibrael falan bandeko jaanteho ? Jibrael (alay salaam) irshad farmate hain ji Baari ta’ala jaanta hun kya muamla hai, uske liye kya hukm hai ? Allah farmata hai Mujhe us bande se muhabbat hogai hai. Toh Jibrael puchte hain mere liye kya hukm hai ? Allah ta’ala farmata hai ke tum bhi usse muhabbat karo. Jibrael (alay salaam) farmate hain mene bhi muhabbat karli. Ab kya hukm hai ? Allah farmata hai ab ja aasaman me nida karde tamaam farishton ko bata de Maine fulan se muhabbat ki hai aye aasman waalon tum sab bhi usse muhabbat karo. Ab saare aasman waale us bande se muhabbat karna shuru kardete hain. Uske baad puchajate hain ke Baari ta’ala ab kya hukm hai ? Toh irshad hota hai ab saare farishte zameen par utar jaaen aur Mere membub bande ki muhabbat zameen par utardo. Aur utardijati hai.” Sahih Bukhari, Jild:3, Page: 1175, Rakam: 3037. Sahih Muslim. (at INSAN KAMIL) https://www.instagram.com/p/CkZMhj-hcQ4/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[goodasshomestuckscreenshots]

[kaitycole]

When Lies Unravel

Summary: Liam processes the news he got from Drake

Word Count: 3037

Pairing (for this piece): Constantine x Eleanor

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol consumption, hangover, lying

Part 9 of WP. To catch up read here.

Tag List: @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore  @kingliam2019 @texaskitten30 @glaimtruelovealways  @bobasheebaby @bascmve01  @burnsoslow  @the-everlasting-dream  @ao719 @sirbeepsalot  @janezillow  @i-bloody-love-drake-walker @kimmiedoo5  @choices97 @marshmallowsaremyfavorite @lodberg @edgiestwinter @marshmallowsandfire  @hopefulmoonobject​ 

*I don’t own the characters, just borrowing them*

A/N: These are the face claims for Liam, Olivia and Queen Eleanor

“So, lame,” Liam mumbles as he sits in the window sill of one of the studies; it outlooks the apple orchard. The royal family is spending some time at Applewood Manor as a small vacation away from the palace.

“Prince Liam, what the matter?” A maid says as she enters the room.

“There’s nothing to do here.” He sighs.

“Where’s Prince Leo? I’m sure he’d be able to find something fun to do.”

He looks at the maid with a sad expression, “He said It was too cool to hang out with me anymore.”

The maid gives him a sympathetic expression before leaving. He turns back to looking out the window; he was a mixture of sad and angry. He begged his father to allow Drake to join them, but Constantine wouldn’t hear it. Even with Eleanor saying it wouldn’t hurt anything to allow the Walker boy to accompany them, Constantine practically forbade either of them for bringing the matter up again.

So here they were, at Applewood on a family trip while Leo was out in town, his father crammed in an office with work, his mother was planning meals with the kitchen staff and he was here, alone.

He gets up and decides to walk out to orchards, maybe it would harder to be sad outside. Liam sits on the swing but doesn’t swing; he just sits there, the wind gently moving him. He gets lost in thought, feeling foolish for thinking his father meant it when he announced the impromptu trip was about them all being a family.

A pair of warm hands touch his back before gently pushing him, causing him to jump.

“I didn’t mean to scare you, sweet boy.” His mother’s voice soothes him instantly but he doesn’t speak. If she asks him why he’s upset, he’d have to mention Drake and the Walkers seem to be a sore subject between the king and queen and he doesn’t want to upset his mother.

Eleanor walks around and kneels in front of Liam on the swing, “What has my sweet boy looking so serious? You look just like your father with such a serious expression.”

It always surprised her on just how serious her younger son could be at his age. While physically he looked just like her, he often reminded her more of her husband than herself. That fact alone broke her heart at times, she didn’t want him to end up as cold and callous as Constantine could be.

Seeing him like this hurt her, he was too pure and innocent to have such heavy burdens on his mind.

“I don’t want to look like father, I hate him.”

“Liam Rys! That is no way to speak of your father.”

“But I do, I do hate him. He wouldn’t let Drake come and I’m alone.”

She gives him a small smile but her heart break, she knew Constantine refusing to allow Drake to come but she didn’t think he would be this distraught about it.

“I’m not Drake, but would you do something with me?”

“What are we going to do?”

“Follow me, sweet boy.” She pats his head as he walks beside her back towards the manor before he looks up with a huge smile on his face.

**

“When will we be there, mother?”

“Soon, love. Be patient.” Eleanor has her son’s hand as they walk through the town. The light breeze is refreshing on this hot summer day, “Here we are.”

Liam looks at her confused as he sits down next to her on the outside stairs of a library. He watches as she browses through the bag that she’s brought along.

“What are we doing here, Momma?”

“It’s a beautiful day and we haven’t had just Momma and Liam time. I thought we could read together.”

Liam smiles at his mother, he loves when she reads to him. Ever since he could remember, his mother would read to him several times a day, but lately she seemed to be busier than normal.

“Which story are we going to read?”

“I was thinking,” she pulls a book out of her bag, “your favorite one; the story of an exiled queen and a man with mysterious powers who raise an army to reclaim a stolen army.”

Liam’s face lights up, “I love hearing about Kenna and Dom!”

“Once upon a time…” Eleanor starts before Liam puts up his hand.

He looks at her with a straight face, “That’s not how it goes, Momma!”

She laughs, “I knew you were too smart to be tricked.”

“Do it right, Momma.” Liam leans against his mother’s side as she starts the story the right way.

----

Liam looks down at the glass in his hand; unwarranted flashbacks and scotch filled every day that’s passed since Drake called. Five days. 120 hours. 7200 minutes. That’s how long it’s been since Liam went from functioning to barely alive.

He’s slumped down on the chaise lounge with one leg up. He couldn’t tell when the last time he left his office was; he’d been in the same dress pants and shirt for at least two days. There’s a dull ache pounding through his head from the alcohol and lack of sleep.

“Your Majesty?” There’s a faint tapping at the door.

Not now, fuck this king shit…

“Yes?” He mumbles.

“Sir, would you like some clean clothes? Your room has been cleaned if you’re interested in a change of scenery.”

“Maybe later.” He sits up and immediately feels a sharp pang split through his head, “Ah!”

Liam’s drank plenty in his life and has had hangover before but this one was different. It always is isn’t it, the ones that are attached to emotional and traumatic events always hurt the most. Cause the most pain. Just another reminder of the initial event.

He takes a deep breath before standing to his feet. He staggers backwards a little before regaining his balance. He looks over at his desk, a stack of files left by Bastien that he needed to read. He walks out of the office and into the bathroom of his swing.

Liam twists the handle, causing the hot water to pour through the shower head and onto him. It was refreshing, soothing, calming; something he hasn’t felt in days, hell, maybe not even months.

As he stood there, the water beating down on his shoulders, he realizes its time to pull himself together. Time to clean up, to put his crown back on and back to the stoic king he’s meant to be.

Kings don’t show emotions. Kings don’t express emotions. Kings stay firm and strong.

Constantine’s words ring through Liam’s head as he steps out of the shower, wiping the fog off the mirror. He looks at himself, thinking maybe his father was right. He just spent the last few days holed up, drunk in his office, allowing his emotions to swallow him whole.

**

Liam stares at the files on his desk. Bastien has been in full work mode since Drake called him. His best friend would never lie to him, but with the gravity of the subject, he just couldn’t. He couldn’t let that wall down without confirmation, without concrete proof. He has spent years learning how to function without a second parent. He’s spent countless nights waking up from the same nightmare he’s had since his mother died and to learn it could all have been a lie, is killing him.

Part of him doesn’t want to read the files. Part of him wants to continue to live in the bliss of ignorance, but it’s not just him who is affected by this.

Opening the first file, Liam finds himself unable to breathe. Documents of travel for an Eleanor Rys and Jackson Walker marked for the day after the alleged attack on the palace. Various addresses map out the last twenty years of their life together, the life that Liam wasn’t part of. NDAs from a few servants and guards who were involved in helping clean things up along with payment agreements for added silence.

There’s multiple agreements and letters with the king’s seal and signature on them; some Liam isn’t even sure what they are for. Liam learned a long time ago that his father was a liar, but this was unforgiveable. As he continued to flip through the folder, he saw documents for prenatal care; prenatal care that seemed to have begun in Cordonia. He finds himself holding his breath when he flips to a page that documents the paternity of a Baby Rhys. The misspelling of his last name causes confusion, but when he realizes the birthday doesn’t match up to Savannah, the realization crushes him. The baby was a secret, the misspelling was to conceal the baby’s identity.

He felt a mixture of anger and relief. Relief when he sees the baby’s father isn’t Constantine, but anger when he realizes Jackson Walker is.

How could he abuse his position that way? If it wasn’t for him, I’d have had my mother!

Shoving his chair backwards, he begins pacing his office. A hundred things crossing and racing his mind all at once. Was it right to be angry at Jackson? His mother was at fault too, right? But Liam couldn’t fathom being upset with her. All these years, he’s kept her on a pedestal. But how could she have left? How could she leave her husband? Leave her country without looking back?

How could she have just left me?

He sinks to his knees with his face in his hands. He silently demands his tears not to fall, but they commit treason and stream down his cheeks. All the memories from his childhood come crashing over him and just shatter. Everything becomes a blur; unable to tell what was real and what was just his take.

The tears continue to run down his face as he struggles to catch his breath. It’s as if his lungs have completely shut down, leaving him gasping for air. His chest begins to feel heavy; almost as if every failed attempt at breathing causes his chest to constrict even tighter. The tighter his chest constricts, the blurrier it seems his vision gets

 Bastien walks into the office and immediately runs to the King’s aid.

“Liam! Liam.” He shouts, but Liam can’t hear him.

All Liam can hear is the pounding of his heart in his ears as he sits on the floor, rocking back and forth repeatedly asking: Why didn’t she want me?

**

Liam paces next to his desk, contemplating if he wants to continue looking through the files. It’s be a few days since the last time he was in there; despite his protests, Bastien persuaded Liam to see the doctor. The doctor told him that in his opinion, he would chalk it up as a stress-induced panic attack and told him to take some time away from whatever caused it. The diagnosis had frightened him; he’d never had one so severe before but as King he had to push through it.

He sits down at his desk, moving the top file to the side and opens the second one. This file is full of photographs. Ones of Jackson and his mother. Ones of just Eleanor. He feels his chest start to constrict again when the photographs turn into a family of three.

He stares at the photo of Eleanor and the baby; a boy. Her face full of happiness and joy; just like how he always remembers her being. But the soothing moment for Liam ends quickly when he thinks of all the time he missed out on. On all the love he never got to feel. Liam stares at this baby, one of the people who took his mother from him. This baby…her son…the one his mother replaced him with.

Without a second thought, he grabs the files and throws them across the room before finally storming out; leaving the scattered pages to eventually fall to rest on the floor.

The slamming of the door caught everyone’s attention but it was only Olivia that got up to go to him. Everyone knew something was bothering the King, yet no one dared to interfere.

“Liam. Liam.” She calls out, but he continues walking outside towards the palace gardens.

There were a few gardeners tidying up when Liam finally stopped walking. Olivia finally catches up to him but she can’t read his face. He never comes to the gardens when there are gardeners are out here.

“Your Majesty.” The gardeners say as the bow.

Liam can feel the anger building as he breathes, rage starts to boil within, “Tear the gardens down.”

“Excuse me, Your Majesty?”

“Rip the gardens up!” Liam starts to tear the nearby flowers out of the ground, “Must I do everything in this country!” He scans the grounds, picks up a pair of hedge shears and starts hacking away at the nearby rose bushes and hedges.

Olivia waves the some of the gardeners away while some of the guards had gone in to find Bastien. When she gets closer, she can hear him talking to himself.

“She didn’t want to be here! She left. She left her family, her country, she left me. Why have these stupid gardens honoring her? What’s honorable about running away with a guardsman?” He shouts as he continues chopping at the bushes.

“Liam.” Olivia says softly.

“Oh, hey Olivia.” He turns and smirks at her.

She can see the tears pooling in his eyes and it breaks her heart, “Liam, honey, what are you doing?”

“They say that gardening helps the soul.” He sniffles and his arms drop to his sides as he finds himself unable to keep himself from crying.

Bastien finally arrives outside and takes the gardening tool from Liam before he drops to his knees, defeated. Olivia wraps him into her arms as his body begins to shake from his sobs. Bastien quickly clears out the area, leaving Olivia and Liam alone. She holds him closer to her, making soothing shushing sounds as she gently strokes his wet cheek.

There are several questions that she wants to ask him, in all their years of friendship, she’d never seen him act this way before. But she knows that they can wait, he didn’t need to be bombarded with questions. Right now, all Liam needed was to be held and loved.

**

“Can we talk?”

Liam looks up from his desk; after his meltdown in the gardens, he has spent the rest of the day holed away in his office. Fortunately for him, his outburst wasn’t heard by many and the ones that did hear it were sworn to never discuss it with anyone. As far as they knew, he was just upset over his mother’s death.

Olivia peaks her head into the office before Liam motions for her to enter. He wasn’t sure what to say to her; whether to tell her the truth or say it was just pent up emotions.

She takes a good look at Liam as she sits in the chair across from him. His eyes are red both from his previous tears and fresh tears. He also looks thinner than usual which worries her. She’d have to make sure he was eating better.

“Li—”

“Thank you for your help this morning, I appreciate you being there for me.” He doesn’t want to go into detail about it, so he hopes this will shut down any questioning.

“Please tell me what’s going on.”

“Liv…” He sighs.

She reaches across the desk and takes his hand in hers, her touch instantly relaxes him, “Let me carry some of the weight, Liam. Let me help you.”

He hands her one of the files and nods towards her. Olivia is his closest ally, a confidant and someone’s whose word he always takes under advisement. Her face starts out unreadable but slowly he watches the disbelief cover her expression.

“Oh Liam.”

“I trust this will stay between the two of us.”

“You already know that.” She says flatly. She was hoping that maybe he was just stressed about finding a suitor or another trade deal was bothering him; those things she could help him with, but this, this was completely uncharted territory, “How long have you known about this?”

“Drake called a few weeks ago, but Bastien confirmed it with these a little over a week ago.”

“Drake knew?”

“Drake and Riley have been in contact with Jackson. Apparently, Drake has been working on Jackson’s farm for a couple of months now.”

Her jaw dropped. Months? Drake knew this for months? “Has he said anything else?”

Liam looks down, he wrings his hands together, “Apparently there’s a boy.”

Olivia jolts up, “You have a brother?”

“Drake says he looks almost identical to myself. Eleanor kept with the L names; his name is Luke.”

The coldness in Liam’s voice when he mentions his mother’s name send a chill down Olivia’s spine. He’s never spoken about her with anything but warmth and love and just now, if was if he was speaking of someone he despised.

He passes her another file, the one full of photographs and her heart breaks even more. The fact that Liam essentially had pictures showing the childhood that he deserved with Queen Eleanor but never got, ignited a rage within her. Drake had told the truth, if Olivia hadn’t known better, she’d have thought the young boy could’ve been Liam. However, Liam had his mother’s striking blue eyes where this boy shared the dark brown eyes of a Walker.

“What about your mother?”

“What about her?”

“You said Drake has been in contact with Jackson, has he seen Eleanor?”

Liam shakes his head, “He’s said nothing about my mother. My intentions were to read through these files before reaching out to Drake about visiting.”

She goes to speak but bites her tongue. He has that look in his eyes, the one that she fell in love with; the look of pure determination. “I’ll leave you to it.”

“Olivia,” he calls out just before she closes the door behind her, “Thank you for everything today.”

“Always.”

[xf-2]

（姫田 小夏：ジャーナリスト）

　東京・池袋の��武百貨店のある婦人服のショップで、鈴のついた商品を見た。手に取った瞬間、「チリン」と鳴る。鈴は、ほとんどの商品につけられていた。「万引き防ぐための対策」だと店員は言う。

　東京・銀座でも、婦人服を中心に人気ブランドを取り揃える西銀座デパートで、「万引きは必ず見られています」という注意書きを目にした。食品スーパーやコンビニなどでは万引き防止の注意書きをよく見かけるが、銀座のデパートで見たのは初めてだ。

　店員に「万引きが増えているのですか？」と尋ねると、「外国人の方が・・・」と教えてくれた。彼らの万引きはとても素早く、接客をしている一瞬を突いて「あっという間に商品を持ち去って行ってしまう」のだという。

　町の商店街の衣料品店も万引きのターゲットだ。試着室のカーテンには頑丈な金属チェーンがかけられていた。容易に入れないようにする仕掛けである。

　この5月、東京・目黒の食品スーパーで外国人の男女4人が酒や飲料水を万引きしたと報じられた。都内の食品スーパーでは、「売り場と出口を結ぶ通路に店員を立たせる」など、監視体制を強化する店舗も出始めている。

「外国人犯罪は“横ばい”」の怪

　都内の小売店を訪れるたびに「ガードが固くなったな」と感じることが増えた。それだけ万引きが増えているということだろう。

　日本に来る外国人旅行客が増え続けているが、訪日外国人による犯罪も増えているのだろうか？

「平成30年における組織犯罪の情勢」（平成31年3月、警察庁組織犯罪対策部）にはこう書かれている。「来日外国人犯罪は、検挙件数については平成17年（2005年）を、検挙人員については平成16年（2004年）をピークに減少傾向が続き、近年はほぼ横ばい状態で推移している」。

　資料中の「来日外国人」とは、日本にいる外国人のうち、いわゆる定着居住者（永住者、永住者の配偶者等及び特別永住者）、在日米軍関係者、在留資格不明者を除いた外国人を指す。同資料によれば、2018年における来日外国人犯罪における刑法犯検挙件数は9573件、うち「万引き」は2994件を占める。2005年の刑法犯検挙件数は3万3037件だったから、3分の1以下に減った形だ。ちなみに、2018年の「万引き」2994件のうち中国人は486件を占め、ベトナム人はその3倍以上の1793件を占める。

　一方、訪日外国人数は2004年に約614万人、2005年に約673万人だったのが、2018年はその4倍以上の3119万人にまで増えている。留学生数は約29万人（2010年比で約2倍）となり、技能実習生に至っては28万人を数えるようになった。

　小売の現場では「外国人による万引きが増えている」という声があがり、一方、警察庁の資料では来日外国人による犯罪の数は「横這い」となっている。これは一体どういうことなのだろうか。

　この謎ついて、一般社団法人・関西司法通訳養成所代表の清水真氏は「“横這い”なのは検挙していないからだ」と説明する。清水氏は中国語ができるバイリンガル捜査官として外事警察、刑事警察の第一線で活躍した人物である。

「検挙人員、検挙件数が2004～2005年にピークだったのは、当時、警察が躍起になって来日外国人犯罪者を捕まえたからです。一方、近年は五輪開催国となる日本のイメージを守るため、『外国人犯罪が増えている』とは言いにくい空気が醸成されています。警察が積極的な取締りをしていないので、数字が“横這い”となっているのです」（清水氏）。外国人犯罪の数は本当は横這いではない。カウントされない犯罪は増えているのだ。

外国人旅行者に紛れ込む犯罪者

　長年にわたって来日外国人犯罪を追ってきた清水氏は、「観光客の中には万引きをするために日本にやってくる者もいる」と指摘する。

　日本人による万引きは、「誘惑にかられて」「スリルを味わうため」「生活困窮の末に」といった個人的要因によるケースが多いという。これに対して来日外国人による万引きは、“ビジネス”として組織的に行われているという特徴がある。「狙われるのは化粧品や薬、紙おむつなどの一般消耗品が中心です。数人のグループの中で命令役と実行役を分担し、一度に大量の商品を万引きするケースが目立ちます」（清水氏）。

　外国人犯罪が増えている背景には、段階的なビザ緩和による来日外国人の増加がある。清水氏はこう振り返る。

「日韓国交正常化40周年に当たる2005年に、韓国人のビザ取得を緩和し、30日の短期滞在を可能にしたことがありました。このとき多発したのが、訪日韓国人による『集団スリ』です。日本人の前でわざとモノを落とし、その後ろから仲間が「落としましたよ」と日本人の気を引いたところで、また別の仲間が日本人のカバンから財布を抜き取るといった手口が横行しました」

　犯行後にすぐに自国に逃亡してしまう「ヒットエンドラン」型の犯罪はなかなか検挙ができず、警察は手を焼いてきた。「基礎資料がない“一見の外国人”の犯罪への対策が、今後は重要課題となるでしょう」（清水氏）。

クルーズ客の質の低下とともに犯罪が横行

　クルーズ船の寄港が集中する長崎県佐世保市の知り合いから最近筆者のもとにこんなメールが届いた。

「佐世保では、クルーズ客の質の低下が話題になっています。万引きをするクルーズ客が増え、ドラッグストアは『試供品が根こそぎ持っていかれ、マスカラなど小型の化粧品が頻繁に盗まれる』と悲鳴を上げています」

© Japan Business Press Co., Ltd. 提供 外国人客による万引きの被害を受ける地方のドラッグストア（筆者撮影、以下同）

　クルーズツアーといえばかつては富裕層ならではの贅沢だったが、東アジアのクルーズ船は様相が一変している。中国のクルーズ事情に詳しい中国人によれば、「最近は3000元（4万8000円）の販売価格を切るツアーもある。乗客の中には、農村から中国の都市部に出稼ぎに来た農民工さえもいる」というのだ。

　日本政府は2015年1月から導入した「船舶観光上陸許可制度」で、訪日客の入国審査手続きを簡略化させた。この手続き変更も、中国からのクルーズ客の質の低下をもたらし、外国人客の失踪問題も引き起こしている。

　インバウンド客の「万引き」に頭を痛めているのは、佐世保の小売店だけではない。

「警察は外国人観光客による万引きに『厳重注意』程度の対応しかしない。再入国を阻止できないのか」「近くのホテルの常連客がいつも万引きに来る、次回の来日時には警察に逮捕してもらいたい」──ネット上には、ある観光地でお土産屋を営む年老いた店主の悲鳴が上がっていた。地方には、高齢者が細々と経営しているお土産屋も少なくない。無力な老店主の店を狙った万引きだとすれば、余計に心が痛む。

　清水氏によれば、「ダミーの防犯カメラを数台設置するだけで、十分に抑止力になる」という。万引きに苦しめられている経営者はぜひ試してほしい。

　日本では、店の外など店主の目の届かないところに商品を並べることも少なくない。治安のいい日本のシンボルともいえるだろう。しかしそんな風景は過去のものとなってしまうかもしれない。「人を見たら泥棒と思え」――訪日外国人の増加とともに到来するのは、そんなとげとげしい世の中なのだろうか。

[silver-wields-a-pen]

Made Imogen aesthetic with character extract

Words written: 3037

Particpated in The Tuesday Writeblr Review

Made Tempest header

Made Oaths header

Renamed Stardust and adjusted info in Brotherhood page

Made info page for Heavenly Kodachi

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

From the derp writing the words

Slow week and tbf I dug up some headers I made way before this but never posted – at least I don’t think I did – just to make it look like I’ve done more than I have. Cfs kicks my ass at the most annoying times, but then I’m still lucky cause I don’t have it severely and there’s days when I almost feel normal and can get shit done.

Frozen Flame I haven’t touched the doc this week, but I did continue expanding my pretties for it – can’t believe I never made any!! Imogen is a wild character and I’m not always sure what to do with her, so she’s one of those I let down a bit, but I wanted her in the story because she’s not as tight with everyone so she’s got a different perspective on situations. She’s also neat af!!

Thaw, I started out with a totally different vibe for the opening scene that I didn’t really like because it felt too insular and like I’d narrowed my focus from the group to Tundra and Nyima and had other characters’ info relayed through them. And I did it just to fit cute coupley scenes in with them because I adore their dynamic and want to show off how well they work together, but I realised I can still do that and include everyone else and actually the other characters interacting with everyone makes things way better. So, the scene I had originally turned into something slightly different with more input and opinions and I like it more now ^=^

Divinely Volatile: yeah, I haven’t touched this since chapter two. The headers I made ages ago and left in my file. I’m starting to get ideas for the next chapter though, so I might open it up again sooner than I thought ^=^

I found myself thinking about another title in the series: Stardust. This was the working title until I came up with something that fit the themes better and after a bit of research I settled on Heavenly Kodachi. It’s in tandem with Divinely Volatile’s title and refers to the two protagonists, like Divinely Volatile. So, now anything you see tagged as Heavenly Kodachi is all the Stardust content from before. Guess I should’ve come up with titles before tagging everything lool And because I’ve got a solid title I also decided to create an info page for it – link found through my silverwieldsapen page, just click brotherhood and then click on number 005 hyperlink to see the page or if you cba there’s a screen of it above, but you'll miss the new content extract I added ^=^

[yurupedia]

本日は茨城県美浦村マスコットキャラクター「みほーす」について。

美浦村には日本中央競馬会のトレーニングセンターがあることから馬をモチーフしている。 陸平貝塚から出土した土器をイメージした帽子をかぶり縄文服を着ている。 性格はおっちょこちょい。ちょっとのんびり屋さんだが以前は競走馬でJC（縄文カップ）で勝利をおさめたという噂も。

https://www10.atwiki.jp/yurupedia/pages/3037.html

[resultado-eficaz]

SEO é a sigla para Search Engine Optimization, ou traduzindo para o português, otimização para mecanismos de buscas. . Trata-se do processo pelo qual se faz a adequação de um site para que ele seja encontrado mais facilmente em pesquisas e ocupe posições de destaque em sites como Google, Bing e Yahoo. . O principal nome desse segmento no Brasil e no mundo é a Google, uma das plataformas de buscas online mais utilizadas atualmente. . Saber como colocar o seu site no topo da página de resultados desse mecanismo, a SERP — Search Engine Results Page, é colocar a sua loja virtual diante de milhares (e, em alguns casos, até mesmo milhões) de consumidores. . Essa classificação é definida de acordo com parâmetros que compõem o algoritmo utilizado pela Google. . Por meio de sistemas automatizados, os chamados robôs dos motores de busca, o mecanismo avalia constantemente quais são as melhores correspondências para cada pesquisa, buscando atender da melhor maneira possível às demandas dos usuários. . Para isso, são levados em consideração fatores como a qualidade do conteúdo, a correspondência de palavras-chave, o tempo de carregamento da página, a experiência proporcionada, etc. . Assim, dominar o SEO e-commerce significa entender como cada um desses componentes influencia o processo de ranqueamento e saber a melhor forma de otimizar o seu site para atendê-los. https://resultadoeficaz.com.br projetos@resultadoeficaz.com.br +55 (47) 9.9161-1056 +55 (47) 3037-2044 #vendas #marketing #negócios #resultadoeficaz #conteudo #mkt #brasil #mktdigital #ecommerce #prospeccao

[majestic-00]

Highlights

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[monabela]

I unintentionally made a series out of this SO here’s part three apparently featuring oz & sey and Creedence Clearwater Revival's Bad Moon Rising. yeah! expect more, at some point. this takes place in 1969, actually!

The Bad Moon

characters/pairings: Australia (David)/Seychelles(Angélique)

word count: 3037 summary: Turns out the town's resident crazy lady is not as crazy as everyone thought - she's known all along, but now that he finally listens, it might be too late.

also on AO3

If he had any pen and paper that wasn’t soaked, David would make a little list, but as it stands, he can only tick things off mentally.

Food: check, found a good amount of canned stuff. Water: no shortage of that. Dry clothes: nope, not for a week now. Lesson learned: fucking listen to Angélique Verlaque, Clarke. She might sound insane from time to time, but somehow, she knows things.

While he is still in the house – his neighbor’s – David takes the phone off its hook in the hallway, knowing full well he won’t even hear a dial tone. The lightning has fried the electricity a week ago, and even if that hadn’t been the case, there’s water up to half his calves right now. He vaguely hopes his neighbor is safe.

Once outside, he sprints – as much he can sprint – to his car, lifting his feet above the water in the street. He must look like an idiot, but there’s no one around to see him. It doesn’t really stop him getting wet either, seeing as it’s still fucking pouring.

A helicopter passes over somewhere in the distance. The emergency services. They’ve been getting gradually closer to his town, which is good. He hopes they can get here before the situation gets any worse.

David takes the winding road into the mountains, where he and Angélique have been staying since the worst of the weather hit, about five days ago. And really, if anyone would have told him that was how he would be spending his time during the storm of the decade, he’d have laughed at them.

Once out of town, David presses play on the cassette still in his car radio. He only just got it before he was called out to Angélique’s place last Thursday.

It happened more often, people calling the station because Ms Verlaque was unnerving them again. She has a habit, and it’s a small town; people have to have something to talk about. If asked at that point in time, David would have said that Angélique was an intelligent and friendly woman who just sometimes fell victim to her own mind and would speak in doom scenarios, and he’d advise anyone not to pay attention to her when she got like that.

Now… He sighs. Well, turns out she had a point in the end, didn’t she?

Rain isn’t exactly unknown around here – clouds formed over the sea can’t cross the mountain range at the end of the peninsula and rain down on the valley completely – and sometimes the river floods, yes, but not… Like this. Not in a way that leaves the entire town covered in water, not over a week of unstoppable downpour. David has never seen anything like this before, and isn’t sure where he would be if not for the fact that he was safe with Angélique, up on the mountain.

She knew. And now she has been saying that there is something else coming, something bad. While he’s still skeptical, David has decided to listen to her from now on. At least about things like this.

He drums on his steering wheel, silently singing along to Fleetwood Mac while he drives up the mountain, leaving the ravaged town behind. The rain still beats on his windshield.

Angélique is standing on the porch of her bungalow when he arrives, safe from the rain under the awning, but she rushes out to help him with the supplies he got as soon as he kills the engine, and the music.

They get everything inside quickly enough, and David changes into some less damp clothes in the bathroom. He looks a little sick in the mirror, but a large part of that must be the green tiles. He doesn’t feel sick. Just tired, and cold. It’s damp even inside, even here, high up where there’s no flooding.

“Hey,” Angélique says softly. She’s leaning against the doorpost when David looks, arms crossed. Her flared sleeves are wrapped around her hands as if they will keep out the chill. “How was town?”

He shrugs in response. “Empty. Wet. I hope everyone’s safe.”

She smiles a sad smile before turning her back and walking to the living room. There’s a fire burning, crackling pleasantly like the world isn’t falling to pieces outside. David sprawls out on the rug in front of it, hoping to soak up some warmth. Angélique sits down to read a book, cross-legged with her back against the couch. Her hair has been getting curlier and curlier over the past days – whatever she did to it to make it straight before must be wearing off.

David likes it.

He, surprisingly, likes her. She’s been levelheaded throughout this whole mess – maybe that’s something that happens when you apparently know what’s going to happen, he thinks. Whatever that is. He feels bad about having dismissed her all this time.

It doesn’t hurt that she is, well, a very attractive woman.

“Hey, Angélique?” he asks, and she looks up, resting her index finger halfway down the page of her book. “Can I ask something about the whole…” He gestures at nothing. “The predicting the future thing?”

She smiles a little. “It’s not so much predicting, I think. I just… I look at people, or at things, every now and then, and I know stuff, and sometime that stuff hasn’t happened yet.” Her gaze skids away from David, and she chews on her full lower lip while her brow furrows.

“What do you know about me?”

“Hm?” She looks up again.

“When you look at me, what do you know about me?” he clarifies. Angélique closes her book and draws her legs up underneath herself, tugging her denim miniskirt down over her thighs when it rides up. Her legs look strong – David fancies she could wrap them around his waist and hold herself up without much trouble.

Wait, she can’t actually read minds, can she? Fucking hell. He thinks about the rain very intently.

“I know your name is David Oliver Clarke,” Angélique says. “You’re 30 years old, born January 26, 1939. You have… Two younger siblings, and honestly I’m surprised you haven’t mentioned them, considering how proud of them you are. You know your brother blames himself for that incident in ’54 that caused you to lose most hearing in your right ear, when you were teaching him how to swim. You write to him every year saying that he shouldn’t do that, and this year he’ll believe you. No one knows about the hearing loss, do they? You were afraid they wouldn’t let you join the police if they did.”

“How the fuck—” David starts, instinctively covering his ear. Only his family knows about that incident – though it’s good news Josh will finally stop getting worked up over it.

She shrugs. “Told you.” But her dark eyes flit away again, as if she’s afraid of a rejection. Hm, she doesn’t know everything.

“Angélique,” he says, “that was boss.”

“I— What? You really think—”

“Yeah!” He pushes himself over to her and leans against the couch as well, close enough that their legs nearly touch – his corduroys and her freckled knees only separated by a tiny sliver of brown carpet. “Wish we’d known before. Maybe you could have helped with something.”

“But you did,” she says, her voice slightly wry, but she smiles still.

“Yeah, alright.” David pushes his hair back from his face and then rests his arm on the couch behind her. Some dark curls tumble over his wrist when she turns her head to him.

“Is there nothing in the future for me?” he asks, and as he says it, he realizes they’re still pretty much in the middle of a very dangerous situation and maybe there really isn’t anything in the future for him, and then what?

However, Angélique smiles and ducks her head, biting her lower lip again. Her teeth have left indents when she looks back up at him. They’re oddly transfixing, although David would much rather he’d made them. Absently, he curls a strand of her hair around his finger while they look at each other. Is she reading him now? Is that how it works?

“There’s, uhm.” She wets her lips now, and David shifts until their legs do touch. “There’s quite a lot of me in your immediate future, actually.”

He grins. “Really? How much is a lot in this case?”

“Oh, you know.” She presses their legs together more firmly and leans over to him. He can see a sliver of green in her eyes, this close, could count the freckles dotting her warm brown skin, which glows in the firelight. He leans forward too, while he touches his fingertips to her knee and lets them trace patterns on her skin.

“Is this alright?” he asks, because even if those hippies with their free love have a good point – he thinks – he doesn’t want to anger the woman largely responsible for his continued survival. Especially not when she knows so much stuff about him.

“That’s great, but it could be better,” Angélique answers with a laugh. “I’d ask you the same thing, but…” She hooks her small fingers in the collar of his T-shirt. “I already know.”

David laughs. “Well, that’s convenient. What else do you know?” His hand slides slowly up her thigh, and she bites her lip again. Her already dark eyes are deeper now, and both of them seem more than happy to just forget about the terrible situation outside for now.

“I don’t know anything that’s very interesting in theory,” she admits.

“I guess we better get practical then,” he says, and while the wind howls outside the bungalow and the rain seems to be on the verge of breaking through the windows with its force, he kisses her. She kisses back without hesitation. Well, if she knew it was coming…

David is unsure why he’s surprised that Angélique knows exactly what he likes – hell, of course she does – and hopes she’ll forgive him that he doesn’t know her preferences in return. She laughs at him when he tells her this, not unkindly, and suggests practice.

“I know not everyone is like me,” she adds, beautifully sprawled on the couch, completely unashamed.

“Have you ever met anyone else?” David asks, curious. “Who can do… Whatever it is you do?”

She gasps gently when he trails his fingers up her leg again, this time unhindered by any fabric.

“I don’t think so. And I’m pretty sure I would have known.” Her breath hitches. “See, I do like that. You’re – you’re learning.”

“Good,” he says, and then nothing for a while.

Over the next three days, neither of them go out because it doesn’t stop raining and there is no need, and he also learns that Angélique does indeed have very strong legs – she surfs, she explains, but not at the same spot he does, and when he asks if they might go catch some waves together when this is all over, she gets a faraway look in her eyes and says she isn’t sure –, that it’s much easier to stay warm like this even if clothes are eschewed often, that Angélique likes horror movies – she can always tell what the actors have really been up to, she says, which is most amusing when it’s horror –, that she loves animals just as he does, and that it would be very possible for him to fall in love with her, given just a little time.

She can’t say if he will. It doesn’t always work in a straightforward way, apparently. Some people are more past than future, “and you,” she tells David, “are very much the present, in a lot of ways.”

He could almost forget about the world falling to pieces outside.

And then, in the morning of the fourteenth day after it began raining, it abruptly stops.

Everything around the bungalow is soggy, and there’s no way the road will be in any condition to drive on, so they aren’t going anywhere, but it’s dry. The sky is clear. And anyway, staying a little longer is just fine by David.

He writes a letter to his sibling that he can post when this is over – they have got to be worried if they saw the news from over here – but can’t finish it, because Angélique comes practically running into the living room with a coat half on and waving a shoe at him while yelling that they need to leave the house immediately. He opens his mouth to ask a question, like what the hell, but has thrown the shoe at him and dashed off already.

Alright. He’ll ask questions later. The lesson about listening to Angélique has been learned.

In more ways than one, he thinks, with a grin at the shoe now on his foot.

It starts the moment he sets foot outside. The slightest tremor, like a train passing close by, but there are no trains anywhere in the mountains, and they wouldn’t be running right now anyway, so it’s something else. David clenches his jaw.

“Lique?” A nickname, caught on quickly – it happens often, with him.

She’s ahead of him, hurrying further up the mountain, jumping from stone to wet stone, but stops and looks over her shoulder. Her beautiful face is set in a grim line, her hair – now all bunched up in tight curls – swept away from her face and into a ponytail.

“Hurry,” she says. “I… I’m not sure what’s coming, but we need to be somewhere else when it does.”

The ground shakes beneath their feet as they climb, making it more and more difficult to keep going, and David wonders if it was the right thing to do, to leave the bungalow. They don’t get earthquakes around here, really, and he’s not sure what you’re supposed to do. On the other hand, Angélique knows… A lot of things.

They reach a stream that’s probably a little mountain brook when the weather has been normal. Now, it roars by with deafening noise. Angélique stops on its banks and pushes her hands into her hair as if in desperation.

“What’s wrong?” David asks, then repeats himself slightly louder to be heard over the roar of the water.

“This!” Angélique gestures frantically at the water. “I know what’s on the other side, I just… I don’t know if…” She swallows hard, and David reaches for her, tugging her against his chest. He rests his chin on her hair, she pushes her nose against the skin of his chest exposed by his shirt.

“Do we need to get to the other side?” he asks.

“I don’t know. I’m sorry. I can’t tell.”

“It’s alright. That’s how the other side lives, Lique.”

She laughs, wrapping her arms around his waist, hands clenching on his back. The stream sprays cold water on them, but they’ve been damp for the past two weeks; it doesn’t matter anymore.

Another rumble shakes the ground, and Angélique holds on tighter. David strokes his fingers up and down her spine and plants his feet firmly on the rock. What do they do now?

“Oh, fuck,” he hears Angélique murmur, and then she’s tugging him down insistently until they practically sprawl on the rock. A second later, a spray of debris sails overhead, scattering among the trees. The ground starts to shake again, and it doesn’t stop.

The forest creaks and groans around them, and the water gets even wilder. David and Angélique remain seated on the rock, even though he feels like they should be doing something. This is nature. You can’t stop fucking nature.

The shaking gets worse. A tree groans and falls over on the other side of the stream, and just like that, more go down, and more and more and David can only cling to Angélique when they hear an almighty crash from just below them, and he knows.

“The bungalow.”

He feels her nod against his shoulder where she’s hiding her face.

Then, another noise. An insistent, booming rumble that gets louder with the second. He tilts his left ear towards it.

“What’s that?” he asks anxiously.

“The dam broke,” Angélique says, and then water crashes around them, hitting like an icy wall and sweeping them both off the rock and away.

David tries to grab something, anything, blindly reaching out with one hand while the other refuses to let go of Angélique, who clings back just as hard in return.

A branch or something, sliding by his hand. He grabs it, and it holds, and he can pull them out of the water just far enough that they can breathe. The current still tries to drag him down, rips at his clothes and his shoe – just the one, he seems to have lost the other, but Angélique is still here, even if she’s apologizing into his chest for not knowing, for not having predicted.

“It’s okay,” he says, raising his voice over the water. “It’s not your fault, you can’t predict everything!”

“It’s not about that,” she replies. “It’s not about this, David.”

When he looks down at her, her eyes are rimmed with red in a way that isn’t just the icy mountain water’s doing. She’s crying.

“We’re fine.” He grips the thing he’s holding tighter, reassuring himself. “When this dies down, we’ll be alright. I’m sure!”

She closes her eyes. He wants to kiss her, but he can’t, not like this. Everything is heavy, but he needs to hold it up. Needs to hold her up.

“We’ll be fine,” he repeats weakly, speaking into the middle distance. His fingers are going numb. Angélique didn’t predict this. Did she?

Fuck.

“Lique?”

She looks up at him with a sad line to her mouth, as if she knows the question he’s going to ask. Come to think of it, she probably fucking does.

“You know how this ends, don’t you?”

Slowly, slowly, she nods. Her expressive eyes are deep and dark, her fingers cold when she splays them on his neck. Curls plaster to her forehead, her throat. She’s still beautiful. And she knows. She knows.

And really, David also knows.

He lets go.

[solplparty]

[티켓 오픈] 뮤지컬〈공룡 타루〉- 인천 : 3월 16일(월) 오후 2시 http://mticket.hanatour.com/Pages/CustomerCenter/Notice/NoticeDetail.aspx?bid=3037

[monochromatic--stains]

because i’m bored and because i hate myself, i decided to do some tag comparisons on ao3 regarding cullen x inquisitor which turned into a rant on non-mage vs mage trevelyans

there are 3037 works in cullen x female trevelyan, and 1360 of those have “mage” in the tags.

cullen x female mage inquisitor has 1597 (which also includes lavellan)

once again, searching within cullen x female trevelyan, searching for “warrior” yielded 221 results and “rogue” yielded 503, but more than half of the fics i found on the first page actually were about mage trevelyans and the classes described another character

do you see why i fucking hate this? warrior/rogue trevelyan and mage trevelyan are so different, yet there’s absolutely no distinction within the fandom for them. it’s really frustrating for me, someone who ships cullen with a warrior trevelyan, to find almost no fics featuring inquisitors that are similar to mine and having them all be about mages.

the difference between non-mage and mage trevelyans is almost as big as the difference between cousland and amell from origins. but while the former has a huge distinction in the fandom, the latter has none. and i feel like there’s an expectation for EVERY SINGLE CULLENMANCING TREVELYAN to be a mage. maybe so they feel more connected to the mage/templar war (that gets practically no focus in the game after a certain point). maybe to force a “forbidden love” (which is honestly cringeworthy according to clips i’ve seen on youtube, it almost seems like she starts to hate herself after romancing Cullen), or maybe it’s because the fandom can’t stand seeing Cullen with anyone “normal”.

(on the bright side, there are only 1536 c*ll*v*llan fics, which surprised me considering how vocal their fans are on tumblr, but sadly there are no cullen x cadash or adaar fics)

[fivealphabets]

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Prestigio MultiPad Wize 3G 3037 PMT3037

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