#privity

[bzalma]

No Privity, No Right to Sue                                                                                                                    

Suing All State Farm Insurers Unconscionable

Barry Zalma

Jun 30, 2023

Read the full article at https://lnkd.in/g7_Tvisk and see the full video at https://lnkd.in/ganUFBFS and at https://lnkd.in/gg_7u-cC and at https://zalma.com/blog plus more than 4550 posts.

State Farm Mutual Automobile Insurance Company (“State Farm Auto”) and Defendant State Farm General Insurance Company (“State Farm General”) moved the court to dismiss all Plaintiff’s claims against the entities. The motion was regarded as unopposed.

In Bridget Butler v. State Farm Fire And Casualty Company, State Farm General Insurance Company, And State Farm Mutual Automobile Insurance Company, No. 3:22-Cv-03433, United States District Court, W.D. Louisiana, Lake Charles Division (June 23, 2023) a Bridget Butler whose home was damaged by two hurricanes sued three State Farm Insurance companies when only one insured her against the risk of loss of her property.

INTRODUCTION

Hurricane Laura made landfall near Lake Charles, Louisiana then Hurricane Delta made landfall near Lake Charles, Louisiana. During the relevant time period, Plaintiff Bridget Butler owned property in Monroe, Louisiana. An entity of State Farm provided a policy of insurance to Plaintiff. Plaintiff alleged that Defendant failed to timely and adequately compensate Plaintiff for her substantial losses pursuant to the Policy. In turn, Plaintiff filed suit against State Farm Auto, State Farm General, and State Farm Fire and Casualty Company (“State Farm Fire and Casualty”) claiming liability for damages for breach of contract plus general damages and for statutory violations and penalties under Louisiana Revised Statutes.

State Farm General and State Farm Auto moved for dismissal of the claims against them. Plaintiff filed no response to the motion.

RULE 12(b)(6) STANDARD

Rule 12(b)(6) allows for dismissal when a plaintiff “fail[s] to state a claim upon which relief can be granted.”

LAW AND ANALYSIS

The Complaint alleges that the “Defendant” issued and maintained a Policy insuring Plaintiff’s Property. The Complaint does not provide a specific policy number, and the Complaint asserts a policy number was unable to be identified because “Defendant” did not comply with Plaintiff’s request for production of the policy number.

Attached to their Motion to Dismiss State Farm General and State Farm Auto put forth an insurance policy with the policy number 99-CC-X642-7, and both companies assert that the attached policy is the Policy referenced in the Complaint. The attached policy is from State Farm Fire and Casualty and names Plaintiff as insured and the Property as the location of premises insured with a policy period of twelve months beginning August 25, 2020. State Farm General and State Farm Auto are not listed as parties in the attached policy. Additionally, both State Farm General and State Farm Auto maintain that neither entity has issued a policy to Plaintiff.

Under Louisiana law, no action for breach of contract may lie in the absence of privity of contract between the parties. State Farm General and State Farm Auto are not parties to the attached policy, and each assert it did not provide Plaintiff with any insurance coverage. Therefore, neither State Farm General nor State Farm Auto are in privity of contract with the Plaintiff. According to the attached policy, Plaintiff is only in privity of contract with State Farm Fire and Casualty.

CONCLUSION

Defendants State Farm General Insurance Company and State Farm Automobile Insurance Company’s Motion to Dismiss was granted.

Plaintiff maintains claims against State Farm Fire and Casualty Insurance Company.

ZALMA OPINION

There should be no excuse for a plaintiff to require the State Farm entities that did not insure Ms. Butler to move the court for dismissal. A telephone call from defense counsel to plaintiff’s counsel informing Ms. Butler of the proper defendant and voluntarily dismiss the wrong State Farm entities. The decision of the court was easy but Judge Cain has more important things to do than deal with an unnecessary motion. Sanctions against Plaintiff’s attorney could have been warranted.

(c) 2023 Barry Zalma & ClaimSchool, Inc.

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[adeathlessgod]

maria reynolds was the original hotwife when you think about it

[jamaicahomescom]

Enforcing Covenants in Leases: An Exploration of Old and New Laws

Understanding the dynamics of landlord and tenant relationships requires delving into the intricacies of land law, encompassing Real Property law and Conveyancing. Historically, covenants originated in contract law before being integrated into land law. Notably, leases pre-1925 were considered personal property. Distinguishing Factors: While contract law operates under the principle that only…

[theywantedplayer]

maybe birthday sex and you surprising jamie for his birthday 👀👀

NSFW

NEW PROMPTS

Brock Boeser Is added to the masterslist

Sorry I'm writing this so late this was buried in my inbox

It was hot and sweaty in yours and Jamie’s bedroom. It was Jamie’s 21st birthday and he was just about to go out with you and the team to a bar and Celebrate. But you wanted to celebrate with Jamie privity first. That's how you ended up how you too were now. You were straddling Jamie at a fast pace, you looked at the clock beside the bed a couple minutes ago seeing you and Jamie were going to be late if you didnt speed this up. As much as you wanted to keep this going, you both really could be late since the party was for Jamie.

“Fuck y/n” Jamie hissed out gripping your waist Roughly 

You smiled since you knew he’s already cummed, the Overstimulation starting to get to him and wear him down to a whining state. His hips started to buck telling you he was close, you were so close to cumming but needed to get Jamie there too. You leaned down Jamie's level brushing the hair that fell to cover his face out of the way. His eyes were squeezed shut and his mouth slightly open and barely audible and gasps and moans and sometimes whimpers leaving his lips. 

You leaned down and kissed Jamie softy then trailing down to his neck

“C-cumming” He whimpered 

“I know, I know m-me too” you stammered 

You Buried your face into Jamie’s neck as you both came. You both laid there for a couple minutes till you spoke 

“We should really get going, we’re gonna be late” you told

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When you both arrived at the bar (20 minutes late) you kissed Jamie on the cheek and left to get some drinks for the both of you. Jamie went off and found Trevor and Mason.

“There you are Jamo!” Trevor yelled pulling him into a quick hug

“Yea what's got the birthday boy so late huh?” Mason asked taking a sip of his beer

Jamie was about to respond but Trevors loud voice cut him off.

“I think I know” Trevor sung out “It’s written all over your Neck Jimmy” 

Jamie’s face headed up knowing what Trevor ment. It was a small red mark when you and Jamie got into the car but in the 20 minute car ride it must have gotten worse so he tried to play it off.

“It's just a bug bite,me and y/n were out last night” he shrugged but he knew it was Useless 

Trevor and Mason just laughed until Trevor pointed at someone 

“Oooo Guys look it's the rare Sighting of a mosquito in march” Trevor laughed 

When you walked over to Jmaie and the group you handed him his beer 

“Why is Trevor pointing at me?” you asked looking at Jamie

Jamie was just pulled you to his side by putting his arm around you “It's nothing just Trevor being Trevor”

[not-goldy]

Some people clearly don't get it. NDA's are a given from BTS. I imagine they probably don't want to do it, but Hybe for sure isn't gonna let these men run around sleep with random people and have them not sign NDA's and run the risk of ruining BTS reputation. Look at Raven Simone who admitted she made all her partners sign NDA's including her wife. That's show business. And it means the person can't do anything or say anything to link to you without risk of being sued or jailed depending on the contract.

Take Nain for example. When Jk DM'd her and everyone was screaming he was a pedo cause she's underage, she stopped and he stopped. He was posting about her often, even tagging her on IG doing her choreo and she was running around showing his DM's and changing her YT name to what he suggested (which is the same name he has on Bam's IG, but just a play on the word Night/Bam) but did you see how quick it took for her to be silenced? So you think JK magically stopped interacting with her and she just decided to be done with him? Or was it he told her to be quiet or Hybe told her to be quiet and respect his privacy and she respected that? Even as friends or Jk just being supportive, Hybe wants no dating scandals. Which is what people were suggesting about him and Nain. So either JK or Hybe set her straight. Which is why when Tae's leaks happened they weren't prepared and didn't know what to say. They couldn't deny it cause it's clearly him in all them pictures with jennie and in Jeju in the car and in Paris. They could only say we don't comment on artists personal lives. Then Tae said fuck it and went public with her holding her hand, cause its the only way he can confirm cause he can't verbally. He said I'm Kim Taehyung bitch. I made Hybe, Hybe didn't make me and he went on vacation with his girlfriend and showed her off to the world. However he went quiet shortly after Paris, which should tell you Hybe does in fact have the last say. Which is shameful, but its their policy. So anyone who thinks someone is gonna hook up with BTS, get cozy in their house and take videos of it and then slowly leak those videos on their own personal IG's, are insane. They would use burner accounts or be anonymous untraceable sources, cause they know they'd be breaking an NDA and going up against Hybe & BTS. Nain found out the hard way. If You brag about DM's. You find out. So I don't believe Jimin's lie being spread. Sorry and I do believe JK when he says he has no GF. So that means whoever was on that tape is nothing to him or its over, if there was even something. Jikook are together right now and nothing can change that and It's all I'm focused on right now.

I agree... except Hybe can't force them to use one in their personal affairs.

It defeats the whole purpose of NDAs if hybe could force them to due to something called privity of contracts and duress and undue influence which legally vitiates contracts💀

It would be easy for them to get out of such contract if they could show hybe forced them to use them��

If a clause like that exists it would be unenforceable.

Whatever power hybe has over them is in yet another contract called their contract of employment which controls relations between them and hybe and not third parties who aren't privy to the contract and its nothing they haven't willingly agreed to. Hybe cannot contract with them to bind a third party who has not agreed to that contract.

I think Hybe can advice them to use them for their own good but can't require them to use them in their personal lives. Think about it, no one would want to fuck with them if they felt the company could come after them and no one would sign that NDA either. a provision like that would make it too tedious for them to navigate human relationships.

It's their personal lives, something they have to decide on with their personal lawyers and not hybe.

If hybe is requiring them to that's over stepping their boundaries and they need to lawyer up fast.

But I do see what you mean and I agree

[theknightmarket]

"It's just not easy."

In which Damien finally decides what to do.

[This is the second part to 'What if I Just Sit Here and Die', a request from my lovely anon, Alexandrite! I hope you enjoy it!]

TW: anxiety, possible panic attack (?)

Pages: 12 - Words: 5,000

[Requests: OPEN]

If someone had told a younger Damien that, in a year, he would be sitting in his normal classroom, in his normal seat with his normal peers around him, he would’ve been confused as to why they were telling him this. However, should they have continued on to say he would be sweating through his cotton shirt, his pen slipping out of his clammy hands and steam practically seeping through his collar - only because of the fact that he was sitting next to someone who said some nice things to him, spoke to him in a kind tone, was pretty damn handsome and/or beautiful themself, and risked a penalty by making jokes about the professor? He’d blush, just as he was in that moment, and ask, “Well, how will that moment end?” And the someone will laugh, shake their head, and say, “You’ll both be forced to clean the classroom for the next week.”

Presently, Damien was barely paying attention to the words of the professor. He was going on about something about the relationship between the government and the public, but he was more focused on the stray mutterings of the person next to him. You, who occasionally leaned over to whisper a joke or comment that had him stifling a laugh, generously spent your time entertaining him instead of listening to the lecture. In truth, it probably benefited neither of you in the long run, but Damien couldn’t deny that this was the most fun he’d ever had in a lesson before. He was learning just as much, anyway, so it didn’t make a difference. Not to him, at least. 

To the professor, who was barely managing to stay on track with the incessant whispering that kept stealing his attention, it made a lot of a difference. 

“Is there something you two would like to share?” he asked, making you freeze with your upper body halfway out of your new seat. Your mouth hung open, and Damien’s eyes met yours with a flurry of silent emotions. Horror, sympathy, and then resolve. He hadn’t a clue what you were planning, but from the way you slowly reared back and looked to the man at the front of the classroom, he had faith it was going to be good. 

“Sorry, sir, I’m just slightly confused on how this can be allowed while following the privity of contract.”

The professor’s expression matched Damien’s own, a pure slate of shock, before the older man’s drifted off into confidence. 

“Well, in this scenario, neither party has obligations imposed on them in the technical sense…” He continued his chatter, but Damien was not focused on that yet. He was more taken by you relaxing back into the hold of your wooden chair, the complete relief when your lie passed through your lips like every other breath. He didn’t know whether he should have been impressed or worried, but he settled on a mixture of the two. 

“How did you do that?” he wondered aloud, trying to keep his voice low enough that it flew under the radar of the professor’s new tangent. Still, there was evident awe in his tone, a thing that you couldn’t stop a blush rising along the ridge of your jaw at. 

You exhaled lightly. “Learned to—” and when you saw that he was still looking at you, you amended, “—if I’m going to be a district attorney, I’m going to have to lie on command.”

Despite the scathing remark about the integrity of the legal system, Damien blinked at the implication. “Really? The D.A?” It wasn’t that he didn’t think you could make it – in fact, he was certain that you’d end up in the newspapers with that title if you set your mind to it –, but he was more amazed that you had your mind made up so sure. There wasn’t a glimmer of hesitation in your words or your face, and Damien marveled at it. 

“What, don’t think I could handle it?” you laughed back. 

“N-no, I just, well, um—”

“I’m joking,” you replied quickly upon hearing him start to fumble his words. “I get it. Bit of a lofty ambition, but I know that if I finish this course and get the degree, there is a position waiting to be filled at Seriva’s Law Office.” You pulled up one finger. “From there, I’ll work all the cases I have to, until I get a job at the Bolitz court.” Another finger. “Defense attorney for the state, court judge, probably get fired once or twice, and then, eventually district attorney of Los Angeles.”

By now, you had all five fingers on one hand in the air, as if your plan were just easy steps. It was something Damien couldn’t begin to fathom, but it must have been so great that it overrode his facial functions because the next words out of your mouth were, “What about you?”

What about him? 

What could he say to you? What did you want to hear? If he lied to you, pretended he had everything planned out, or even a semblance of an idea, would you know? There were so many uncertainties that he couldn’t plot, and only a small amount that he could guess the answers to; you probably wouldn’t look down on him if he admitted the truth, but he wasn’t all that willing to take the risk. The last thing he wanted was to lose a potential friend, especially you, though there was no way he could make up something as detailed as your plan was in such little time—

“I haven’t thought that far.” His mouth had gotten tired of waiting for his brain to catch up, apparently, and it went ahead with spilling the truth. He couldn’t back out now, not when you were looking at him with that expression, so he continued, “I have no clue, and it has been killing me that I don’t.”

For the split second that your mouth remained closed, Damien looked at your face, and used one of the skills that he was most proud of. He’d used it on his parents to avoid an argument, his guidance counsellor to get out as fast as possible, his extended family when they asked when he was getting married. He read your expression with bated breath and was pleasantly surprised by what he saw. You looked surprised, but not in a oh-my-God-how-could-I-talk-to-someone-so-immature way. The tilt of your head and the quirk of your lips showed you were simply surprised, and that was all. No disgust or horror present! Damien was somewhat embarrassed by how his heart sped up a bit when he recognised it. 

And how it skipped two beats when you replied, “Hey, if you ever need an ear, I’ll be around.”

With that, you turned back to face the professor, who had still not run out of the fuel that you had chucked onto his flames. You listened intently, even though every sentence was punctuated with ‘this won’t be on the exam but…’, while Damien watched you, equally as intent. The rapid fluctuating of his heart was dying down, and its withering gave way to a small comfort nestled deep in his bones. An unfamiliar sensation, but not one that was unwelcome. In fact, it was entirely encouraging – prompting him to tune back in when the professor got on track and scribble down a few notes. Notably, concepts that he could understand. 

The pride only lasted as long as it took for the both of you being caught chatting again – which was in the midst of another unnecessary talk, for context – which landed you in hot water. That someone didn’t lie. 

As it turned out, your offer of someone to listen to were needed quicker than you thought. Barely a full day had passed by the time that you were sitting at the desk in your doom room, fiddling with a pen and trying to underline the important information in your textbook without outright underlying the entire paragraph. It was a tough and stubborn read, like wading through mud, and picking out useful aspects was even more so; clumps stuck to the words, hidden roots held them down, and you were quickly finding yourself hoping for a reason to take a break. 

The answer to your prayers was at the door in the next thirty seconds. Just as you had taken your reading glasses off to smear a hand over your eyes, you heard a frantic knock ill-disguised as a casual one. You briefly tried to remember if you had messed up in any way for the small amount of time you’d occupied this room, but the question came with a blank answer – so, with little else to do, you got up from the desk and swung open the door. 

Th sight of someone distinctly not administration greeted you. You weren’t in trouble, that was good, but a frown made its way onto your mouth regardless. 

“Oh, hey, Damien,” you started, taking in his concerning state, “are you okay?”

His bowtie was pulled out, and his jacket was nowhere to be found, leaving him in just his dress shirt and pants at your door. Even his collar button was undone, which, in the rest of the world, might not have been deemed outrageous, but you’d only seen him in business settings before. This was a jump you weren’t expecting to make so soon. 

“I-,” he immediately stopped himself. One hand flittered up to his cuff to adjust it before he spoke again, “-no, no, I’m not. I’m worried, and stressed, and scared and…” he trailed off in his panic, the worry trapping itself in his head. 

You couldn’t leave him outside like this. From the looks of it, this wasn’t his first time in such a state, but this was his first time coming to you, and you weren’t going to mess this up. 

Setting a plan of action in your mind, you planted your hands on Damien’s shoulders, seemingly shocking him out of his thoughts with a jolt. “Hey, hey, look at me.”

He followed your simple instruction well. That alone was good, so you took the time to dip into your room again, not noticing the brief flash of deeper panic that shot across his face. It only lasted until you reemerged with two jackets, but it was there. 

A beat up, old truck was your best shot at leaving campus. You’d taken the keys one night after a party with your friends. You hadn’t a clue who it really belonged to, but it was now yours, and it wasn’t as though someone had come to retrieve it. So, yours now. 

And what a spout of good luck it had been. Gesturing Damien into the passenger seat, you heaved a sigh of relief. Walking all the way to your little spot would have been a horror story waiting to happen. He climbed in without any hesitation, which would have been appreciated in any other circumstance. Now, it made you worry your bottom lip between your teeth. By the time you’d buckled yourself into the driver, you’d decided that you didn’t like numb Damien. 

Multiple attempts were made to tease a reaction out of him. Humming music you’d heard on a gramophone recently, picking up conversation topics out of the bottom of your brain, literal teasing. None worked, aside from getting a few polite chuckles out of him or a nod, so you did the one thing you’d been told not to do from day one; you put all your eggs into one basket and pressed down on the gas pedal. 

In general, Damien never knew what he was doing, but this moment was special; for once, he hadn't really thought about his actions. He didn't sink onto his chair by his dorm window and stare longingly out at the students who actually knew what they were doing. This time, he'd acted on instinct, and an unfamiliar one at that. It was an impulse, embarrassing to him, that had drawn him to your door. To you, who in turn, had driven him in your truck all the way to a local lake. He hadn't payed attention to where you were headed during the journey, but, when he heard the sloshing of water against a bank, he had clocked you were in some place unknown to him. He forced himself to look at you when you guided him to a rockier side of the body. You, who he knew, who walked to the edge of the lake, who he trusted, who kneeled beside him with an armful of rocks. 

“Take some,” you spoke, as if this were an entirely normal interaction on your end.

And, as if this were an entirely normal interaction on his end, he did. When he had secured two or three medium-sized rocks, the one in his left-hand dripping lake water onto his skin, he managed to ask, “What?”

You didn’t answer him, instead taking a second to lay some more in a pile between the two of you – though, the light-hearted grin on your lips eased his concerns for your mental health and brought a similar one to his own. 

You filtered through the remaining ones in your arms, trying to find the best shape and texture. Damien didn’t know what you were looking for specifically, but he sat still, patiently, and watched you smooth a thumb over one of the finalists in your strange competition. 

“You know, I’ve always loved rocks,” you commented while tripping to your feet over the sandy beach, “No clue why. Maybe I was a penguin in my past life.” 

Now standing straight, you trot to the shoreline and wind one arm back, like a pitcher would for a big game. The concentration on your face was a sight to behold, the little adjustments of your form to get it just right a true spectacle. Damien dared not move a muscle for fear it would jostle your focus.

You shifted to the left, and then to the right, and then four steps backwards. You breathed in the crisp, night air. 

And then promptly chucked the stone directly into the water with no skip to be seen. 

“Dammit.” 

The panic from earlier was beginning to dwindle; a tiny spark of fear that had rushed through him like a match to a gas leak was but a flicker. The hooting of owls this late into the night was common, but he had never been conscious enough to listen to them, whether it was because he was asleep or because he was thinking too much. Here, the flood of problems was traded for the sound of the lake’s water batting against sand. Damien found that he liked this more. 

A few splashes and then a proud yell shook him from his pondering – he needed to stop – and then you turned to look at him. Rock in one hand and gesturing with the other, you called out, “Well, are you doing this or what?”

Gingerly, Damien rose from his seat on the dirt and joined them. The pair of you made quite the picture. You were trying to instruct Damien on how to stand, how to position his arm, how to angle the momentum. Along with giving him all the best tips to match your two-skip record, Damien could confidently say it was going averagely. You weren’t going to be entering any championships anytime soon, but your realistic lack of skill had no effect on how much fun you were having. 

For the first time in a while, Damien was enjoying his time, and, for the first time in an even longer while, he wasn’t feeling bad about using his time for recreation. On most nights he took ‘off’, he’d sit on his bed, with a book in his hand, trying to keep his mind off of all the assignments he didn’t understand. With you manipulating his arm like a puppet, he didn’t mind. He assured himself that, if you were out with him, he wasn’t the only one ‘lacking behind’. 

He broke out in giggles as he watched you practically drop another stone into the water in front of you. With as much an offended look you could manage, you pushed him to throw one himself. 

Much to your chagrin, he beat your record. Such an accomplishment. 

“The student becomes the master,” Damien joked. 

“If this weren’t an actual rock, I would throw this at you.” 

“Just joking!” 

You continued on like that for the better half of an hour. The night got longer and colder, but it wasn’t enough to bother you. At this point, you weren’t sure what would be. Skipping stones with a friend was much better than doing it alone, you discovered. Your group in class were fine and good, you weren’t complaining, but you had… different tastes to them, and you weren’t about to drag all of them out to the lake to chuck stones until 3 in the morning. You had half the mind to propose you make this a tradition, but the other half told you that you didn’t know where you stood with Damien. 

It was no secret to yourself or your friends that you liked the guy. He was sweet, he did his own thing, he didn’t take his life for granted. But were you friends yet? Did skipping stones together count as a friend-activity? Would it be presumptuous of you to call yourselves friends already? Seeming egotistic in front of Damien would be a nightmare for you. And why was that? You had no idea why you became so interested in his opinion of you so quickly. You were so bogged down with unanswerable questions that you hadn’t realized you’d quickly ran out rocks. 

You took the out with fervor, rushing over to the pile you’d taken from and then heading back to lay them out from best to worst. Crouched down, you hadn’t expected Damien to start another conversation, so you were stuck in an unfortunate position of craning your neck upwards for the moment. 

“How are you so calm about this?” he asked, a lighthearted tone but with an edge that hinted at something else. 

Before answering, you clambered to your feet and dusted off your pants. “It’s not like skipping stones is illegal, right?” 

“No, no that,” he laughed slightly, but it faded quickly, “I mean, how are you so planned?” 

Now, that made you smile. “I appreciate that you think I am, but I’m not.” You jumped to finish your sentence when you saw Damien start to argue. “I just know how to get out of a slump.”

“A slump?”

A hum moved between your lips. “A slump, my friend—” you planted a hand on his shoulder, “—that’s what you’re in.”

As soon as you pointed this out, it was like a switch had been flipped. The corners of Damien’s smile laxed, his shoulders lost tension, and the bags underneath his eyes dropped. “It’s been a long slump, then,” he replied without much conviction, “and you said you know how to get out of one?”

You nodded, sending one last stone into the distance before focusing your full attention on Damien. You didn’t hear its splashes, only the sound of him sighing. “I think, right now,” you began, “you’re caring about the little things as much as the big things, right?” 

He considered this for a second, until he nodded with a solemn expression, eyes downcast and darting anywhere but you.

Just that image made you swallow whatever pride you had left and decide very quickly to divulge your background to him. “I did the same thing in my first year. I’d originally planned to be on campus from the start to finish of college, but then I got it stuck in my head that I couldn’t because I’d made promises to do something that I wouldn’t otherwise be able to do. Pet sitting, or helping out with a relative, something like that…

“So, I stayed home. That wouldn’t have been so bad on its own, but assignments piled up and there was this one night when I would have to sacrifice all of my sleep, my food, everything healthy just to get this essay done,” you paused to inhale some of the crisp air. The night was getting darker, almost exactly as it had been the time you were describing. You continued, “And I did. And I felt horrible the day after, not only because I screwed over my whole body, but because I was still worried about it in the morning! Worried if I missed a citation, or I-I misplaced a comma.”

Standing next to you, Damien watched as your face was consumed by the memories. The look in your eyes was distant, but you weren’t looking over the water. It was as if the entire scene had disappeared, leaving only you behind, trapped in a fog. He’d gone through a night like that, and he knew the feeling well. It was the whole reason you were out there in the first place; worrying over something, getting it done, and then still worrying about it after the fact. He’d built his whole college-era around it. 

The most he could do was offer a hand, both metaphorically and literally. 

Damien’s hand coming to rest on your upper arm pulled your attention to him. A gentle smile that you mimicked on his lips, you couldn’t help but wonder how he got like this in the first place. 

“But when I re-enrolled for this year, I thought about it more. I was actually writing the letter as I did, and I knew that if I did the same thing as last year, where I sacrificed my health for one assignment, I wouldn’t make it through. So, my solution was that I decided not to care.”

“What?”

You hummed in response to Damien’s mild shock. “That’s what my family said. The guidance counselor, too, and a couple of my friends. They acted like I’d gone and joined the circus. But it helped me. It was difficult at first; for the few months after we came back, I nearly broke my promise every week. Eventually, it got easier, and now, I’m exactly as you see before you.” You gestured to yourself as dramatically as you could handle after preaching your way of life.

Damien watched you for some time, to the point that you thought he’d run for the hills or call the guidance counselor back on you. It was only when he asked in a smaller voice than you’d heard him before, “What about the big things?” that you relaxed. 

“The big things – family emergencies, big exams, twenty-five percent of my grade type of things – I’ll focus on. Don’t stress about the assault essay, but make sure you leave time for the finals. They’re the only things you’ll remember about the course, anyway.” 

“You say that like it’s simple,” Damien chuckled.

“It is,” and you meant it, but you quickly amended at the distraught expression of your friend, “it’s just not easy.”

Reaching down to pluck a stone from the line-up, you finished your speech, “Takes a lot of practice to not care, so don’t expect to be an expert that fast.”

Your idea to continue skipping rocks was disrupted when Damien’s grip – which, unbeknownst to either of you, he had yet to remove – tightened. “And how am I supposed to start?” his voice took on a panicked quality, “I’ve already got myself too deep.” 

Getting the sense that he was about to spiral, you refused to hesitate and, instead, wrapped your spare hand around his own. When you looked up, it seemed that Damien’s avoidant gaze was reserved for a shallower feeling of worry. The dread that you saw here meant he stared into your eyes directly, as if desperately trying to find the answer faster than you could say it. 

“When we started skipping stones, what were you thinking about?” you asked. You tried not to notice how the corners of his mouth dropped even further with your seemingly cryptic question. 

Still, he answered, “Whether you were legally sane or not.” 

You shared a look of relief that Damien was stable enough to joke about the situation. “Ouch,” you muttered, “but that’s my point. You weren’t worrying about the course or the future or any assignments. You were focused on something that, to be honest, doesn’t matter. Because I doubt that you’ll remember this in a year. Not this moment, or the time you forgot a period in an essay or-or a lot of what you need to know for the exams. At that point, it won’t matter, so why care about it now?”

Despite your monologue being finished, you didn’t dare let go of his hand. You didn’t know whether it for his sake or yours, but you’d be going against your way of thinking if you said it really mattered. 

“Of course, don’t go too far with it,” you spoke with a smile, “Care about the things that make you happy. Work won’t make you happy, so don’t care about it too much. Pay attention to who you are as a person, and you’ll be grand.” You didn’t want Damien to go from 1 to 100 in the next year, or, rather, 100 to 1 in the caring department. It was about striking the perfect balance and you were well up for being hit teacher. 

When Damien nodded at you, having taken everything in, you allow yourself to slip back into the calm of the lake. It was a beautiful sight, and now you had someone else to share it with. 

In your mind, this was the end of the night, and, as you began to aimlessly throw the remaining rocks in the general direction of where you took them from, you missed your new friend’s change in body language. It was subtle, but it was there – the straightening of his shoulders, the bobbing of his Adam’s apple, the final breath of a cool night’s air. When he was prepared, he turned to you and met your eyes. 

No panic. No fear. No worry. A stark determination took their place. 

“Do you want to go on a date?”

On a Friday evening, at eight o’clock, a procession of thirty students snaked its way across the college campus, from the entrance gate to the auditorium. Normally, that place would be empty of any life, but, then, it was heaving with parents, friends, and staff. The ceremonies that followed were just as lively. A chorus group sang some classical pieces, followed by multiple professors wishing the graduating class of 1908 a farewell. A final address from the principal sent people into tears, until the presentation of diplomas overruled it with near-constant clapping. 

But that didn’t mean everyone was suddenly fine. Damien himself found that trying to keep it all in was a fruitless effort after he watched his fellow classmates receive their scrolls of paper, not to mention how he had to ask someone for a tissue when you went up, shook the principal’s hand, and walked off with a wink in his direction. His heart clenched with pride, and he could barely look away as he watched you make your way to the second row of the audience. The seat you ended up in was at the tail end of the row, right next to Celine, who grasped your hand with a smile that you shared. Next to her was Wilford, who, upon noticing Damien’s staring, cast his own, knowing look. He looked away before he could do anything more noticeable, seeing, next to him, Mark. He’d assumed that, like most things, he wouldn’t be overjoyed to be where he wasn’t the centre of attention, but there was a hint of a smile and happiness in his eyes that told him he was playing it up, this time. 

Damien took a breath in and then a breath out. Crisp air – his heart rate slowed down into a duller thud. It was his turn. 

Four simple, difficult steps. He got up, he walked to the principal, he took the degree and shook his hand, and then walked off. 

He had graduated college, you both had, and he couldn’t be more excited to pursue the next few years of his life. 

Especially given the way that you two met up when everyone had filed out at the end. 

There had been plans for the friend group – one that you had been made a member of ever since Damien told his sister what had happened that fateful night – to get a table at an old café down the street and celebrate. A little talk prior to going up on the stage pushed those plans back ever so slightly. 

Rounding the back of the auditorium, Damien caught sight of you leaning casually against the wall. No staff would be around there while they dealt with the rest of the students, meaning you wouldn’t be herded away just yet. You could enjoy this quiet moment for at least ten minutes, and you were very much going to.

“Hi,” you whispered as soon as Damien came close enough. 

His response was simple. “Hello.”

“You looked handsome up there.” 

In the past year, he’d gotten better at schooling his expression in public, but he didn’t consider you to be in public at that moment, so his redness and smile were as blatant as the day you met. 

“Around people thirty years my senior, I should hope so—” he wrapped his hands around yours, intertwining your hands, “—I’m proud of you.”

You pulled him close with that hand. “You’re proud of me? I’m sorry, but your graduation is the culmination of my outlook on life. I’m proud of you.”

Your only thought in the proceeding second was that it should never be said that Damien was not a romantic man when it came down to it, as he leaned just that inch forward to push his own lips against yours. Whilst all the kisses you’d shared before had been amazing in their own right, this one was combined with the product of two years’ hard work and a year’s practice in self-respect. The smiles you both wore were held aloft by the graduation ceremony, high enough in the air that neither of you felt any need to pull apart. This was the time for love, nothing else, because there didn’t have to be. Everything was over, and, as your mouths moved against each other in crisp night air, you were ready for a new start. 

Nearing your faces turning blue from a lack of oxygen, it was time to pull away, but that didn’t stop you from rejoining when you had gotten enough breath. This happened a few more times, though they gradually became more pecks than full kisses; you didn’t know how much time you had left until you were ushered from the campus, but you weren’t one to let an opportunity to tease Damien go easily. 

The both of you gliding to a stop, simply staring into each other’s eyes, you whispered, “So, my advice worked, huh?”

Damien’s response was immediate, if not accompanied by a slight flush, “Oh, be quiet, you.”

And, like most times, he didn’t deny that you were right, given that listening to you was the best decision he’d ever made - your relationship was proof enough of that. 

[scotianostra]

On September 25th 1586 Mary Queen of Scots was moved to her final "prison" at Fotheringhay Castle.

Having being cunningly ensnared in the so called Babington Plot, Mary was transferred from Chartley Manor to Fotheringhay where she was tried over two days, 14th-15th October, and found guilty shortly thereafter. I will cover the trial next month.

In the meantime this is an extract from The Life of Mary, spellings as in the word "Scotish" are directly from the book.

The Scotish Queen entered the fatal castle of Fortheringay, on the 25th of September 1586, as we have seen. She was already treated, as a criminal; while she only knew, that her secretaries had been arrested, and her most confidential papers carried away, by Elizabeth’s orders, for the guilty purpose of establishing obvious wrong.

The Scotish Queen had, scarcely, arrived, at Fotheringay, when Elizabeth wrote her a letter, which shows, at once, her coarse vulgarity, and domineering temper: She supposed the Scotish Queen, to be void of all conscience, in denying her privity, with the late attempts, notwithstanding the clearest proofs; informed her, that she had appointed commissioners, to charge her, personally, with her guilty conduct, and requiring her, to answer their charges.

But, the two Queens acted upon quite different principles: Elizabeth thought of nothing, but her own state, and person: Mary felt, that she had been eighteen years a prisoner to her cousin’s criminal passions, without right, and without a cause. As to Elizabeth’s proofs, they might have been confuted. Mary’s guilt consisted, in continued endeavours to free herself, from a long imprisonment, which, from its commencement, was indefensible, even by Cecil’s ability: And being thus unjustifiable, Elizabeth acted wrong, and Mary acted right. Elizabeth, by inflicting such an imprisonment, avowed her hostility to Mary; while Mary, by that hostility, acquired a right to act with equal hostility against Elizabeth.

It was felt by the authorities that the unfortunate Scottish queen would be more secure at Fotheringhay, and the location would discourage any rash attempt to free her by force.

Only the earthworks and the conical motte remain of Fotheringhay Castle, after Mary's execution the castle was allowed to decay completely. It was eventually sold, and local people began to rob the site of building stone. The castle was finally dismantled completely in 1628, and stone used to build an inn in Oundle.

The great hall was purchased by Sir Richard Cotton, who had the interior stripped and the furnishings transferred to Connington, in Huntingdonshire.

Tradition, probably inaccurately, suggests that James VI of Scotland, Mary's son, ordered the castle destroyed after he took the throne of England as James I. The more plausible explanation is that it was simply falling apart anyway. Bits of the castle were incorporated into nearby Castle Farm, and sections of the moat were filled in during the 19th century.

Close to the River Nene is a small section of masonry wall protected by an iron railing.

There are three commemorative plaques on the railing; the first simply says that this section of masonry is from the castle keep, the second was set up by the Stuart History Society and commemorates the death of Mary, Queen of Scots, and the third plaque was set up by the Riichard III Society and commemorates the birth of Richard at Fotheringhay Castle.

Three plaques for one bit of masonry seems a bit over the top, but in truth there's little enough of the castle remaining otherwise.

For a place that witnessed historical drama, the birth of kings and the death of queens, Fotheringhay offers pretty sparse remains to enjoy. So it is the association of the castle with royalty that will bring visitors here, not any great standing walls or dank and dismal dungeons.

[house-of-slayterr]

Rorschach's Journal: Ink Blot Meet Cute Pt. 2

Tag: @rorschach-thumbtack

Tw: Gore and suicide

Rorschach's POV:

The streets were stained with blood... his blood. The comedian was dead. Edward Blake. an old friend, was reduced to nothing more than a memory, blasted in the headlines. Many people had wanted him dead, that was certain. The list would be exhausting, but at least I had a lead, I had the kid.

There was always a chance they were lying to me, trying to save their skin. But I'd witnessed Eddie mow down a pregnant woman in his anger, there was no way they could have taken him, not alone at least. I'd be looking at a very different blood stain if that was the case.

I adjusted my trench coat, pulling it closer to my body. As I lept down from the roof, I heard some footsteps in the ally behind me. But I knew those footsteps anywhere, his costume was distinct in both look and sound. Nite Owl.

"What are you doing here Rorschach?" Dan's voice came out distorted behind his mask.

"Assuring we arent next on the hit list. You may have moved on, but despite his faults, Eddie deserves better."

"There was no foul play."

"You don't know that. Leave me to do what needs to be done Daniel, I won't ask you again."

Daniel sighed heavily.

"At least tell me why you're watching some girl's apartment."

I groaned, my eye twitching behind my mask, before finally turning to address my friend.

"They are not, 'some girl' Nite Owl, they are integral to my investigation."

"Well do they know this?"

"Yes, I- we have a date."

"Surprised you a get a date when you never take off that mask." He jeered.

"You know what I meant. They have the information I need, I decided to get it the none-lethal way this time. No point in snuffing out a flame that has potential."

"So she's a flame now?"

I groaned once more. Why is it that he always took pleasure in misinterpreting my words?

"And what about Silk Spectre? Is she just a flame to you?" I dodged his question with my own.

"It's not like that."

"Have fun explaining that to Dr Mannhatten. You know how reasonable he is." I dared.

He shifted awkwardly. I looked back up toward the apartment. It was in a bad spot of town, though I suppose there weren't many good places left to live in this city. Their light was now on in the window. Up on the tenth floor, foolishly thinking they're hidden from any wandering eyes.

They were changing, we could both see it clear as day... well, night. But luckily it was only in silhouette. I had the wear with all to look away, but it seems Dan needed a gentle reminder in privity. I slapped him across the face, gaining his attention.

"I do hope you treat Spectre with more care than that." I scolded.

He chuckled awkwardly.

"Always the gentleman."

An inside joke, The kind you only get when you spend years hanging around the same miscreants. Nite Owl began to walk away but gave one closing statement.

"Let me know how your loose end ties up."

I made my way up several flights of stairs. I had to do this the proper way, callous and quick methods were not proper protocol in this instance. I took a breath before knocking on their door.

"Just a minute!" They called.

I adjusted my collar, as well as fixed my mask. I heard several bolts unlock.

"Smart," I thought.

They opened the door with haste, their hair dropped lazily in front of their face, blocking half of it from view.

"Your early,"

It seemed less of a question.

"Early is on-time in my line of work."

A small smirk broke on their face, as they brushed the hair from their eyes finally.

"Please, come in"

They stepped aside, allowing me to enter. They quickly shut the door, locking each bolt behind us. I watched as they walked into their kitchen.

"Tea? Water?"

I smirked under my mask. How charming. But I could see through their rouse.

"You aren't going to see my face if that's what you're after. Very few people who have are still breathing."

“That wasn’t what I- forget it. I’ll drop the hospitality bit. Photos and tapes are on the table. Anything else I can fill you in verbally from what I remember.”

It was curious, they had no interest in knowing who I was, unlike so many people before them. They poured some tea for themselves and came to stand beside the couch. I watched them carefully.

“This is everything?”

“Yeah, couldn’t get any close ups obviously. Can’t afford the best equipment either.”

I frowned. It was good work for what they had to work with. I couldn’t definitely use these.

“Look, I’m glad you came to me Kid.”

“Correction, you came to me, if we’re talking technicalities. And I thought we agreed you’d stop calling me that.”

I chuckled slightly. They really were odd. Most people were terrified in my presence. I shrugged. They sipped they’re tea carefully.

“I think he knew he was going to die.” They spoke softly, almost like they were scared to say it to loud.

“What do you mean?”

They sighed, finally sitting on the couch next to me:

“I’ve been following him for weeks. But that day, at the dinner, he acted different. He was still a dick, but he actually apologised to the waitress that day. He sold a bunch of shit at the pawn shop down the street. He didn’t even bother to lock the door when he want home. Whoever attacked him, he knew they were coming.”

They had keen observation skills. More than I gave them credit for. I heard a strangled breath leave their throat.

“God, I should have stopped it. All the sighs were there I just didn’t want to read them. He’d still be alive if I just-“

I cut them off, placing my hand over their mouth. A little harsh, but I wasn’t the best at calming people down.

“This wasn’t your fault. Edward made a lot of enemies, it was bound to happen eventually… to any of us.”

“But it is fair Rory, none of this is fair.”

“Rory?” I questioned.

They pulled back, looking embarrassed.

“Sorry, your full names kind of a mouthful.”

“Nobodies ever given me a nickname before. You know, other than the usual Psycho, Crazy Dick…”

They laughed, a bright and cheerful laugh. No sign of pity in it. It sounded nice. Like the only source of joy in this cold, stoic place. They couldn’t see me smile, and I don’t know if I was half about that or not. I couldn’t risk being vulnerable, not now, not ever.

“I don’t think I stated it, but I really am sorry for your loss. I may have hated the guy, so did half the world; but he was your friend. Asshole it not he didn’t deserve to go out the way he did.”

It was cute really, their attempt to comfort me. I patted their back lightly.

“Thanks.”

Suddenly the phone ring, and I swore I saw them jump out of their skin. Some hot tea spilt onto their thigh and they hissed. I watched them stumble over thee couch and run toward the phone.

“Hello?” They asked.

Whoever was on the other line must not have been very friendly, because their face palmed significantly.

“Put it on speak.” I demanded lowly.

I couldn’t help my tone. I wasn’t upset with them, of course not, but whoever was calling had no right to make them this scared.

“I wanted those photos on my desk yesterday.”

“I know sir! There’s been a de-“

“Don’t interrupt me you little bitch. When I ask for something, it gets done. And now your over 24 hours late. Do you wanna know what happens when I don’t get what I want?”

“You throw a tantrum.” They said, just above a whisper.

“What was that?”

“Nothing!”

“I’d keep your mouth shut and eyes open if I were you little girl. I’ll get my hand on those photos, one way or another. Nobody betrays me and gets away with it!”

Then the line went dead. They dropped the phone and backed up until their spine hit the counter. The sound was harsh against the abrupt silence, I knew it had to have hurt. They started hyperventilating. I was no good with this shit.

I took a step forward, but stopped when they flinched.

“I shouldn’t have taken that job. I should have just kept my head down, like my father said.”

“You didn’t know.”

“Nobody who’s doing something legal pays that much for photos! Not even rich assholes like him. This is my fault.”

“He would’ve paid someone else to get those photos. You’re boss is the crook, not you.”

I took another step forward and they didn’t flinch this time. I took that as a sign.

“I should have at least called the the cops. But I-“

“Stop.”

“Edward was a dead man, despite your efforts. There was nothing you could do. But these photos, your memories, are gonna help me find who did this. To find justice.”

“There is no justice Rorschach, not in life, and certainly not in death!“

This seemed almost personal now. Like they were talking about something else, someone else.

“I should have seen the signs Rory. My boss, his Initials, that insignia, they were all that were left the day my father disappeared. Now I know what happened to him.”

“Why would he want your father dead?”

Insensitive, I know. But I couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“He was a Hero too. But like Edward, he made mistakes in life. He pissed of the wrong people.”

There was a knock at the door, and they jump again, this time letting out a yelp in surprise. I shushed them, telling them to stay put. As I made my way over to the door, something was shoved through the mail slot.

I picked up the envelope slowly, inspecting it. It could be laced with anthrax, but my mask could protect me from that. I heard footsteps approach from behind. I put my hand back, telling them to stop again.

“What is it?”

“Just some mail.”

“The mail man doesn’t come this time of night.” They said suspiciously.

“I know.”

I opened it carefully, no white powder. But that didn’t mean it was safe. There was no address on it, which means it was hand delivered. Someone wanted them to get this message. There were photos inside. I got so caught up In reviewing the photos that I didn’t hear them approach until it was too late. They let out a scream.

The photos were gory, that was sure. The man isn’t he photo was missing most of his fingers, his jaw ripped clean off, and both eyes cut out. He had long gashes scattered across his flesh. His arms were bent at an unusual angle, caught up in the ropes he was tied to the ceiling by. It looked like his foot had been smashed beyond repair. But there was something even more unsettling about this.

Each photo he was moved slightly. He was still alive when these were taken. I turned to see them on the floor, sobbing violently. I cringed as they began to dry heave. I set the photos down on the coffee table and knelt beside them, holding their hair out of the way as they puked. I rubbed gentle circles on their back. I didn’t know what to say.

“I’m sorry.” I finally decided upon. It was simple, but honest.

“Why are you apologising, you didn’t do this. They did!” They spat harshly.

They pushed me off them, and got up off the floor. Their legs were a little shaky but they caught themselves on the wall.

“I should have never made this deal with you!” They screamed.

I bit my lip. I’d never seen someone display such raw emotion in front of me. It didn’t feel nice to witness. I never wanted to feel the way they did right now.

“Do you really think anything would have changed?” I sighed.

“What?”

“The people you’re working for, you said it yourself, they aren’t good people. They were just waiting-“

“For me to fuck up! Which I did! If I had known my father was alive this whole time. I wouldn’t have given up, I would have kept searching every inch of this God Damn city until it killed me! I would have done anything to bring him home. Then maybe my mother wouldn’t have killed herself! Maybe I wouldn’t be the useless orphan I am right now!”

“You’re not useless”

“Yeah, tell that to your dead comrade! Go ask my father! Oh wait, you can’t. Because they’re both dead and I’m still here, fucking things up for everyone else. You know what? Maybe you should leave, cause you’re probably next. Everyone I interact with winds up dead.”

I crossed my arms over my chest. I couldn’t leave them. Not in this state, not when they could do something they might regret. Guilt was a powerful emotion, one I’d witnessed many of my team mates exhibit. It could eat you alive if you weren’t carful. I stepped toward them once more, but this time their step back was more deliberate, like a warning.

“I’m serious Rorschach, I’m not good for you!”

“I can protect myself… I can’t protect you.”

“And why would you do that? Huh? Did you fucking hit your head on your way here? You didn’t even know who I was 36 hours ago. And now you’re making promises you can’t fucking keep. I mean nothing to you, you got what you came here for, now get the fuck out of my apartment.”

I took another step.

“Get out!” They screamed, the sound tearing through their throat.

Another step.

Their wasn’t much further for them to go. I wrapped my arms around them, watching as they thrashed around struggling. I ignored the little hits and kicks they landed on me. There was power behind them, they would surly bruise but I could handle it.

“Put me down!” They begged.

I just held them tighter, not saying anything. After a few minutes they settled in my arms.

“You done throwing your little tantrum now?”

They huffed.

“You really know how to make someone feel cared for, Jackass.” They jeered.

“I’m new to this. Just like you’re new to my world. But now, you’re unfortunately stuck in it. These people aren’t gonna stop until you’re dead, and the everyone’s of my friends death goes away with you.”

“Then what do you propose?”

They turned in my arms, now facing toward me. Our faces were so close, I could feel the fan of their heated breath on my mask.

“We do this together. For Eddie, for your father.”

“Together?” They raised a brow at me.

I nodded, finally letting them go. The distance felt lonely now. But I welcomed it, it’s what I deserved. Someone like them didn’t belong with someone like me. We’d part ways when this mission was over, when they were safe.

“Lets kill those sons of bitches!” They declared.

AN: Tell me why I loved making Nite Owl seem mood villainous in this. Like, imagine he's on Ozmantium's side! Also awe, Rorschach melted my heart in this. I’ll for sure write a part 3 when I have time. I’m really enjoying this!

[bojesvemira]

Borac

Jesi li ikada primjetio crne krugove ispod njenih očiju ili probleme sa ljutnjom koje posjeduje?Njene istaknute jagodice i ispucale usne i dalje tjeraju na osmijeh. Bori se da svima pokaže koliki je borac i da je sasvim dobro, niko se nije potrudio priviti je uz sebe reći joj da će biti sve uredu, sve što i nije dobro. Tako često diše kao da je na bojnom polju, i poželi da jednog dana i živi ne samo da preživljava.

[levindesdieux]

Then will He sometimes peradventure send out a beam of ghostly light, piercing this cloud of unknowing that is betwixt thee and Him; and shew thee some of His privity, the which man may not, nor cannot speak. Then shalt thou feel thine affection inflamed with the fire of His love.

The Cloud of unknowing

[shxnxsx]

As seen in the case of Price v Easton, a contract is not binding on a third party, this is known as privity of a contract.

[cmosneagu]

Duminica mironositelor. “Urmati-va calea, fara sa priviti inapoi sau in jurul vostru. Nu luati seama la cele ce va inconjoara; nu ascultati vorbe goale!” https://c.aparatorul.md/abcmf

[nekonyamunyamu]

Sorry this page has been moved to HERE ごめんなさい。このページは移転しました。移転先こちら I do apologize. I didn't know the tumblr specification. I didn't know I can't neither follow nor like from a sub-account 😭 My main account was not for HL, just posting my privity stuffs. Therefore you might not have known that I followed you. Sorry for confusing. I will post on my main blog from now. PLZ follow me. （言い訳の日本語ver.は↓)

ごめんなさい完全にタンブラーの仕様勘違いしてました。フォローやすき♡はメインブログからしか出来なかったんですね、、。メインブログにはプライベートの写真載せてたんだけど、そっちからフォローしてました😭ごめんなさい、、メインブログのURL変えて対応したので今度からはメインに投稿します。新居でもフォローしてくれたら喜びます🥰

おまけ

メインブログはただの個人の備忘録だったので誰にも教えてなかったし、投稿もほとんどしてなかったのが幸い。社会的に死ぬところだった😨英語苦手だけど新居でも英語post頑張る。こんなワールドワイドコンテンツで創作するの初めてかも。乗るしかないぜこのビッグウェーブに。

[melitaafterfeather]

Affirmation

Set 20 year plan

Allocate land parcels leasehold to families individual homes build

Family element excluding social welfare

Protagon system for safety of land equipment civils

Allocate empty properties for immediate occupancy

Council tax royal duties

Multiple citizenship reduction to a single citizenship choice for welfare

Reducing avio transport frequency

Selective welfare

Job or a housing rent or a private ownership or a land ownership

Monetisation restructuring for digital currency and new banknotes print into law and amendment

Capital investment in 3D print for self contented monetising the State Government

Inheritance law amendment from international and domestic ownership rights

GDP and Wall Street privatisation of the State

Privity law amendment reducing hacking intruding interference digital htz frequencies

Mobile telephone home manufacturing

Computing home production

Deforestation composting soil fertilising soil

Ecological monitoring of wild animal state danger

Energy resources monitoring renewable natural resources

Political presidency reserve for North and South America

Senate consultancy offices in a public domain

MPs consultancy in a public domain

English language in a new amendment protection and development

Limiting political interest from other countries continents

Four C concept

Export Import safety on viral and bacterial infections

Medical and food supply delivery to exact locations

Contamination of ecology prevention

Solar energy use for domestic consumption

Windsor energy use for domestic consumption

Water turbine energy for domestic consumption

Regulating licencing for satellite air transport

Regulating internet licencing

Regulating digital platforms licencing across the border

UN dismissal

International WHO dismissal

NASA limited activities

NATO dismissal for replacement of domestic Protagon as each country has a sufficient arm protection as the border crossing is now limited for economy for finance for free movement

Public service Foundation tax

Biological reproduction monitoring for DNA disorder

Improving quality life 🏛️

[scotianostra]

On October 22nd King James VI set sail for Norway to collect his bride Anne of Denmark.

The Autumn storms of 1589 were responsible for treacherous sailing conditions, but unfortunately for the women of England and Scotland, they prompted a far more dangerous consequence – a renewed fear of witchcraft.

That September, the new queen of Scotland – set sail to travel to her new kingdom. She had just married James VI via proxy, and was expected to quickly arrive in Scotland to meet her new husband.

But she did not arrive. Anne’s journey was a disaster – the fierce storms damaged her ship and she was forced to anchor in Norway for repairs. A second attempt to set sail was made, but her ship once again sprung a leak and returned to Norway. With winter setting in, the bad weather was expected to continue. The decision was made to postpone the journey until spring, and so Anne remained in Norway.

If history has taught us anything Scottish Kings were a randy lot, you only have to look at the disastrous journey Alexander III took to reach his Queen, ending up dead at the foot of a Fife cliff.

James was unhappy when he heard the news about the delay and unwilling to wait that long to see his bride. He made the decision to go to Norway himself to fetch his queen. Well we all know James survived the hazardous journey, once over there the celebrations of their wedding lasted months and it is said that during this time it ignited his obsession with witchcraft.

In Denmark, witches were blamed for the storms that damaged Anne’s ship and stopped her from travelling. A trial was held in Copenhagen in 1590, resulting in the executions of the accused women. This wasn’t unusual in Denmark – there had been a number of witch trials in the country during the sixteenth century.

In Scotland, witchcraft was against the law – although it mostly went unpunished before 1590. But when James arrived back in Scotland with Anne and heard the news of Denmark’s witch trials, he began his own witch hunt. Witches were accused of trying to kill the king and queen, by calling up the strong storms that James and Anne had encountered returning to Scotland.

One of the accused witches was a wise woman named Agnes Sampson. Under torture, she confessed to things that were so ‘miraculous and strange’ that even James found them difficult to believe. Allegedly, Agnes whispered to the king, telling him the words that he and Anne had spoken to each other in private on the first night of their wedding, removing any doubts James had. He said he ‘believed all the devils in hell could not have discovered the same’. Agnes was executed. There were around seventy people accused of witchcraft during this trial – it is not known exactly how many of them were killed along with Agnes. In 1597, James released Daemonologie, a treatise about witchcraft – although his own fervour for witch hunting seemed to have waned, the fear of witches among the population had taken hold. Large scale witch trials took place in Scotland well into the seventeenth century, and an estimated 3,000 people – who were mostly women – were accused.

Under the union of the Scottish and English crowns in 1603, James’ work spread south, into his new kingdom.

Daemonologie laid out information such as how to identify a witch and how to punish them. One way to seek out a witch was in their use of charms and herbs: ‘By curing the Worme, by stemming of blood, by healing of Horse-crookes, by turning of the riddle, or doing of such like innumerable things by wordes, without applying anie thing, meete to the part offended, as Mediciners doe’. Women known as healers and midwives often came under suspicion because of their skills. Another way to identify a witch was to find the mark of the devil hidden somewhere on their bodies – James referenced Agnes Sampson’s trial directly, describing how they shaved her head in an attempt to find her mark, eventually finding it on ‘her privities’.

James explained that it was mostly women who were witches as they were ‘frailer than man is’ and so were more easily entrapped in the ‘snares of the Devil’. He used the bible to support his arguments as witchcraft was ‘plainely prohibited’, referencing Exodus 22.18: ‘Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live’ – the only acceptable punishment for a convicted witch was death.

These guidelines were used in trials until 1727 when Janet Horne became the last woman in Britain tried and executed as a witch.

The book series, Outlander by Diana Gabaldon, uses the name Geillis Duncan for a character who is eventually involved in a witch trial, although the books are set after the last execution.