#supply chain issues tour

[thesearethedayswellneverforget]

Wow you saw Jack White 14 times on his tour and even met him! That's insane, like in a good way. If you're okay with sharing, what was that all like and how'd you meet him?

I have no problem with sharing, if i didn't want to i wouldn't post about it on the internet ;)

But yeah, it WAS insane. It was physically and mentally exhausting, i slowly lost all sense of dignity and self restraint, and it's a LOT of hours spent in trains and planes and fucked up eating habits and not enough sleep, however i have zero regrets, would do it again 100% and totally recommend it if you can/want to do it.

The shows themselves were absolutely amazing, if you've ever seen him you must know that (if you're interested, there's a recording from his last Olympia show by Arte Concert on youtube, it will give you an idea of how the shows were), never twice the same, the vibe was different, the songs were different, the way songs were played were different. You never know what's gonna happen and that's why he's probably the only artist i would go see as many times in one tour. going to that many shows also mean that you can enjoy better whatever is happening on stage. Because there's so many stuff to watch! Some nights i would watch Jack more, other nights i would focus more on one of the musicians – it was not a conscious decision, it's just how it goes. Plus, even though i'm now sad it's over and i miss them all terribly, i don't feel frustrated – i had my dose.

Plus, i get to spend time with some of my bestest friends, old friends i hadn't seen in a while, new friends i made along the way, and it's just so lovely to travel, hang out with people you love, and share that very intense and specific connection that comes with going to such a show together. It creates a deep sense of community (which culminated when we all cried together at the Union Chapel show).

Now, meeting him. I fell like, this tour, he's particularly keen on meeting people and interacting with them – and the friends i've talked with all agree. I've met him twice, once after a show at the stage door – he took the time to sign some stuff and take pictures with a lot of people, even though there were like 50 of us? He was lovely, only said a couple of sentences to each person obvs, no time for a full on conversation, but he was very engaged and not in a rush (his manager was though ^^).

The other time was at the Rough Trade signing, same thing, he didn't have much time for each of us but he was very attentive and fully engaged in whatever we were telling him (it's not just my opinion, my friends thought the same), super nice and smily, and willing to engage with us. Overall he really seemed in a good mood this tour, whether on stage or off, just happy to be there and ready to connect.

I also met his bandmates, who were all super nice and open to conversation, just very kind and sweet people overall!

I hope that answered your question, and i hope that you get to see Jack White play as many time as you'd like and that you meet him someday !

[walkonsalt]

x

[mytypeofdistraction]

I can’t believe I finally went to a Jack White’s concert! I can’t believe I saw the man himself from like 6 feet of distance! And I can’t believe how loud is his concert and how he is not deaf!

[kylejasonblack]

[scoop16]

Jack White ‘Live//The Supply Chain Issues Tour’, Vault Package #54, Third Man Records

[4ll-ovr-u]

Went to a Jack White Live concert in Montevideo last Tuesday an it was awesomeeeeee!!! Thank you Jack for bring your art to the world!

[a-killer-obsession]

Wavelengths [Killer x Reader, Heat x Reader]

🔞 Minors DNI 🔞

A search for a rumored Vegapunk weapon leads the Kid Pirates to an unexpected new crewmate, with a bloodlust that rivals their own and an incredible power.

CW: Please check AO3 for all current warnings, but general warning for smut, slow burn, serious gore, and really dark themes. AFAB reader, she/her pronouns.

Masterlist || AO3 || Chapter 1

Chapter 3 - Shopping Date

Killer learns something surprising, and you get some much needed shopping done.

WC: ~8k

Heat made quick work of the tour, it wasn't like there was that much to see on a ship, even one as large as the Victoria Punk, and he really did have shit to do. Everyone had tasks they were assigned to, everyone pulled their weight on the ship, even if it seemed like it was the cabin boys and henchman doing most of the work. Well, I mean, it kinda was, it's not like you’d ever catch the commanders swabbing the deck, but they had important jobs none-the-less. With a resupply island so close, Heat's work was piling up and he would be no doubt busy for the rest of the day.

During the tour he also explained to you the dynamics of the crew. It was split into three main categories: the top dogs, the henchmen, and the cabin boys.

The job of the cabin boys was clear - they cleaned, they ran errands, and they trained - hoping to one day be considered strong enough to join the henchmen or top dogs. They were all young, ranging from fourteen to nineteen years old. Most were orphans, kids they'd picked up after raids who had a little fight in them and showed promise, most taken against their will (since the Kid pirates were usually the reason why they were orphans) but it worked out. Kid and Killer knew well how hard it is to be an orphan, Heat explained, so they took these boys to save them from starvation and hardship. Even if they fought it now, one day they’d come to see it as a blessing. A few more fiery cabin boys were volunteers, boys who were already street urchins looking for an out, or just boys with straight up anger issues whose parents couldn't handle them. All of the cabin boys slept in one long room on hammocks, each with a small wooden trunk provided to them where they kept their few possessions. They didn't get a share of the loot, so they couldn't afford to buy new things at will, and had to put in a request if they needed anything. Right now there were eight cabin boys on the Victoria Punk, but the room could accommodate ten. Cabin boys didn’t usually join fights, but every now and then one would inevitably be lost during fights at sea, when there was nowhere to run.

The henchmen were next up on the food chain, making the bulk of the crew. They cooked on a rotation, and helped with the harder cleaning jobs like swabbing the deck - which had to be done every single day to keep the wood impregnated with sea water, which kept it from rotting - as well as taking care of supply runs, training the cabin boys, and being expected to have the top dog's backs during fights. They also took care of the ship's maintenance and repairs, as well as hoisting sails and dealing with the anchor and helm, being that most were men who had experience as sailors, often being ex-marines or leftovers from defeated pirate crews. Kid sometimes used his fruit to reel in the anchor, but only if they were in a rush. Henchmen had an unfortunately high turnover rate, as they were usually the first to die in battle, and those that did last were usually promoted to the top dogs. Currently there were sixteen henchmen, split between three rooms that could hold six men a piece, a few beds currently being empty after the fight at the marine base. Their numbers would no doubt be replenished at the next few islands, Kid liked to have a full force of henchmen to keep up his crew’s strength.

Next were the Top Dogs. These included the commanders - Kid, Killer, Heat, Wire, and two others that you hadn't formally met yet - Mohawk and Double. One had been on nightwatch, and thus asleep when you were freed from the mast, and the other on the current watch, which is why neither had been at lunch. You had seen them around the deck though, and picked up their names when they were addressed by henchmen. Heat told you they hadn't known Kid and Killer as long as Wire and himself had, but were still close, trusted advisors and fierce warriors.

Mohawk was a small man compared to the other commanders, who, as the name would suggest, sported a large, vibrantly orange mohawk, the rest of his head being decorated with zigzags neatly shaved into short, unnaturally yellow hair. Despite his height, being only barely taller than you, and a thin build, he was still one hundred percent muscle, with speed and a short blade known as a falcata being his weapons of choice. He seemed to have a short temper, and usually wore a setup of head to toe leather decorated with metal spikes, even in hot weather.

Double was his near opposite, being just as tall and broad as Kid, but he lacked visible muscle, instead it was hidden under a thick layer of fat - hence the less than kind nickname that he had come to embrace. He was a sniper, very rarely ever caught in the heat of battle. He usually stayed far from the field, or up in the crow's nest, covering the other commanders’ backs with a sharp eye and a deadly precision that could rival Yasopp of the Red Haired pirates. He had a vibrant head of green hair, almost neon, which he kept tied in a tight man bun. Like Kid, he always had a set of goggles on him, presumably to protect his vision so as not to be caught weakened by the environment during battle, though he preferred to let them hang around his neck most of the time. Like the majority of the Kid pirates his closet seemed to consist of mostly blacks, as well as some dark forest greens, and his outfit was usually made up of some sort of cropped shirt and baggy pants, tucked into tall heeled boots. Despite the nickname, it was clear he felt no shame about his size, and was just as strong as the other commanders when it came down to it.

The rest of the top dogs were made up of promoted henchmen who had proven themselves to be strong fighters and had made their way up the ranks through hard work. They were known as the officers, and were in charge of the day-to-day running of the ship, keeping the henchmen and cabin boys in line so the commanders could focus on the more important shit. When battles happened they were usually on the front line, right behind the commanders, and were all dangerous men with a heavy bloodlust.

Currently, including the four commanders and you - who was classified as a commander, as per your demands - there were eleven top dogs. Kid and Killer had their own rooms, as you had seen on the tour, with their own private bathrooms you were told. The other four commanders were split between two shared rooms with a shared bathroom between the four of them. The remaining four, sans you, shared one room, and shared a communal bathroom with the henchmen and cabin boys. Then there was yourself, who currently resided in what was formerly a storage room where Heat had ended the tour, and would be sharing a bathroom with the other commanders. It still meant sharing a bathroom with four men, but it was better than sharing with the henchmen.

Everyone on the ship pulled their weight, even if it didn't seem like it outside of battle. Obviously the henchmen and cabin boys were always hard at work, but the top dogs also held their own. The officers took care of the day-to-day work, but the commanders also had important jobs to do. The first job, shared among all of the top dogs, was the watch. There was always a man in the crow's nest, regardless of the weather, whether it be out at sea or docked. The watch was rotated three times a day, in eight hour shifts, swapping at six in the morning, two o'clock, and ten o'clock. The importance of the watch couldn't be understated, being the first line of defense against rival crews, marines and seakings, so it was only entrusted to the top dogs. As annoying as it was, they didn’t trust the henchmen to not fall asleep on the job.

Each of the commanders had specific roles on the ship as well. Heat was the commander in charge of most consumable supplies. It was his job to make sure the infirmary was well stocked, the shipwright team had everything they needed, even the toilet paper was under his domain. If a cabin boy needed something, it was him they pleaded their case to. Which was probably in their best interest - Heat was a bit of a softy and hardly ever denied a request. His job consisted mostly of running between the various teams of henchmen and officers to make lists, and making sure someone was assigned to procure all of the necessary items.

He worked closely with Wire, who was in charge of the money. He made sure everything was budgeted for and let the captain know when a raid was needed to keep up with costs. Heat and Wire spent a lot of time negotiating supplies, if a request was denied it was usually because of Wire. He also took care of the ship's records, keeping track of all supplies, loot, and money that moved on and off the ship. He was often found in the navigation room where he kept a desk and several filing cabinets full of well organized records. You’d barely seen him over the last week, but you realised after Heat’s explanation that it was probably because the crew had taken in a great deal of loot from the marine base, so he’d likely been taking all his time taking inventory of it.

Killer was in charge of food. Heat told you, much to your surprise, that Killer actually really enjoyed cooking, and often cooked for the commanders, it was somewhat of a hobby for him. Since he spent more time in the kitchen than any other commander, and had far more knowledge about cooking, he was more than happy to work out the food roster with the officer in charge of the kitchen, since he could work in his own preferences. Food was planned months in advance, since there was never a promise of when the next resupply would be. Even if the map claimed to have a town on an upcoming island, they could never be sure that it hadn't been raided or destroyed before their arrival, so it was important to be prepared, lest they starve at sea. Water was taken care of by a filtration system, stolen from the marines, and one of the other officers was in charge of its upkeep as part of his managing the maintenance of the ship.

Mohawk, despite his short temper, was actually the ship's doctor. He didn't actually have a medical degree, but he had been saved from a life as a street urchin in his youth by a kind doctor, and trained under him. He would have gone to medical school, but he unfortunately suffered from dyslexia and was unable to pass the entry exam because of it. He wanted so badly to be a doctor though, and without a medical degree even the marines also wouldn't accept him. So when the opportunity to join an upstart pirate crew as the ship doctor arose, he quickly accepted, as a means to fulfill his dreams. As the ship's doctor he was in charge of the infirmary as well, and made sure it was well stocked, being that the Kid pirates were always running face first into fights.

Double was the navigator, and thus could usually be found pouring over maps in the navigation room. When he wasn't there, he was at the helm, preferring to steer the ship himself lest some idiot henchman put them off course. He'd spent most of his teen years sailing on his own on a small boat in the South Blue, so even though helmsman was his preferred job, navigation skills had been a must have. It was for these skills that Kid had let him live when he'd found himself on the gang-ridden island where the other commanders resided, the last piece of the puzzle the Kid pirates had needed to go out to sea.

Lastly, there was Kid, who at first glance seemed like he did shit all, but it was his job to make sure everyone else was doing their jobs. He worked closely with all of the top dogs, keeping everyone on the same page and making the big decisions about where they were headed. He was also in charge of weapons, and could usually be found tinkering with new ideas for them in his workshop. His workshop was completely off limits to everyone except Killer, unless specifically invited in. And of course, it was his dream to become King of the Pirates that kept the whole crew moving forward, giving them all a common goal.

As soon as the tour was over, you had laid down for a nap, your sore body begging for the chance to lay flat after a week strapped to the mast. The crew hadn't expected to be converting a storage room for you when they landed at the marine base, so the room right now only consisted of an extra bed, hastily stolen from the marines before they left the island, and a small wooden box to act as a side table. It was more than enough for you though, after spending years in cells that had little more than a thin, dirty, sorry excuse for a mattress on the floor, if you were lucky, and a bucket or hole in the floor to piss in. Hell, this room even had a small porthole, what a luxury. A pillow and blanket had also been thrown on the bed, clearly stolen as well given the small repeating pattern of marine logos on them, but it was better than nothing.

You kicked off your shoes and flopped onto the bed, quickly getting comfortable on your back - not by choice but because of your mask limiting your ability to lay on your side or front. It’d been a long time since you had to sleep in it, you’d have to get used to it again. You wondered if Killer had the same issues. Without the mask, the overwhelming sounds around you would be too much to fall asleep. You made a mental note to find a piece of seastone to hold so you could sleep without it. Regardless, you had the best sleep she'd had in years. Heat tried to wake you for dinner, but you really did sleep like the dead, and unlike Killer he wasn't about to kick to rouse you, so he let you be.

You woke up the next morning in what was probably the best mood you had ever been in. For the first time since eating your devil fruit, you had woken up feeling truly free. You could leave whenever you wanted, but it was your choice to stay, and today, for the first time in your life, you would be allowed to choose your own clothes - the thought made you giggle to yourself with excitement. Your clothes had always either been picked out by your mother or the marines, with the exception of the jacket Atlas had given you. Your mind was racing with the possibilities and you thought about every fashionable woman you'd ever seen, though the last time you were able to walk the streets of any town was many years ago, fashion had no doubt changed since then. You would have Heat with your though, and he seemed like a fashionable guy, right? With his cool corset thingy and his tattoos. Yeah, Heat could help, definitely.

You slid out of bed and stretched, cringing as your knees audibly popped, years of cold cells and a week on the mast hadn't been kind to your joints. You straightened your mask and pulled down your borrowed shirt. The sky was green through the porthole, sunrise. Ah, your marine-built body clock was back in action apparently. You weren't at all surprised you'd slept through dinner, your body no doubt needed the reset. With your heart fluttering with excitement you left the room, making your way first to the commander's bathroom to pee and straighten your hair as best you could without a brush, then out to the deck. To be fair, you'd been using the ol’ finger comb for years, so it's not like your hair was ever that tidy to begin with.

You made your way to the front of the ship, where a large dinosaur skull was mounted. You'd seen several of the commanders sitting on it over the last week, but never anyone of a lower rank. You were, however, also technically a commander now, so you decided to climb on top to sit cross legged on the top of the skull, spotting the tiny dot on the horizon straight ahead that you assumed must be the island they were coming up on. You tuned your visor to see under the water, scanning quickly for seakings and thankfully finding none, though a large manta ray was dancing not far off the ship, and you watched its graceful movements under the water for a short while before setting your mask back to the default settings.

You turned your attention to the ship itself, stretching and exercising your devil fruit to scan it. You'd been bound in seastone for many years, you needed to practice as much as you could now that you knew you would have regular food to keep up your energy, so you could get back into your best fighting shape. Your job on this ship was as a human weapon, and you took that role seriously. You'd pull your weight, just like everyone else did, and prove you belonged here. You would protect this ship, and its crew. And kill lots of marines, of course. You made a mental note to ask someone to spar with you so you could get back in shape soon, though after the fight at the marine base you knew you were at least less rusty than you thought.

You closed your eyes, building a picture in your mind of the ship and its inhabitants, like a three dimensional schematic, sensing the different levels of vibrations from the molecules of all the things that made the Victoria Punk. It was something you found easier to do in your mind, rather than simply with your eyes and the right visor setting. It was easier to focus on the details like this, instead of just one singular view. You could see the cabin boys in their hammocks, a few were already quietly waking and sliding out of them. You could see the henchmen, all deep asleep save for one. Judging by the vibrations, you guessed a few were snoring. One was definitely jacking off in the bathroom, you watched out of curiosity for a moment but he didn't last much longer. ‘Boo, waste of a show’ you thought. The commanders and officers were all asleep as well, except for Wire, who seemed to be reading in bed.

You moved your mental image along to the front end of the ship, where Kid and Killer's rooms were, as well as the navigation room. Most of the other rooms were held towards the back of the ship, like the galley and officer's rooms, or under deck, which is where the henchmen and cabin boys slept, as well as most of the storage. Kid was sleeping soundly in his bed, notably without his metal arm, which appeared to be propped up against the bedside table. Killer's bed was empty, ‘how curious’.

Come to think of it, the officers and commanders were all in their beds, which meant Killer must be on watch. You scanned the crows nest - ‘ah, there he is’. The telltale change in vibrations that indicated his mask made it easy to identify him. He was definitely watching you, so you turned your head, looking over your shoulder up at him. You stared at each other for a moment, before he cracked at the strangely intimate staredown and looked away. He couldn't see your eyes, and you couldn't see his, but there was a weird mutual understanding in the glance. Respect, maybe? You couldn't name the feeling, and neither could he. Whatever it was, being caught staring at you made his heart beat funny, and he was deeply uncomfortable.

You let out a heavy exhale, releasing the visualization to come back to reality. You would need to practice more, definitely. It was a skill that would no doubt be useful to sharpen, but it was taking far more energy right now than it should. For now, you returned your attention to the horizon, focusing on the way the island, still just a speck on the horizon, slowly got bigger as you approached.

You stayed on the figurehead til the morning watch came to free Killer, and he found himself approaching you before he realized what his feet were doing. He leaned against the railing beside the skull and looked out to the sea where you were looking. It'd been about an hour since you woke up. He was an early riser regardless of the night watch, but he was surprised to see you up so early. A lot of the ex-marine crewmates woke early, but it'd been a long time since you were in service, he thought you would've grown out of the routine by now. Maybe it wasn't too surprising though, given you'd apparently slept for near fifteen hours. It was about fucking time you woke up, Killer didn't like people skipping meals so he wasn't at all impressed when you slept through dinner. Especially considering how emaciated you were, you needed every meal you could get if you were gonna get back in a good condition.

“Morin’ Killy,” you said, leaning back on your palms and turning your head to smile at him. His steps were near silent, but you'd felt the change in the air as he approached.

“Don't call me that,” he replied in his usual flat baritone.

“Grump,” you mumbled.

“You're up early,” he said, it was basically a question.

“I usually wake this early,” you replied, “I like sunrise. It's pretty, don't you think?”

The sun was just over the horizon now, almost directly in front of the ship, the sky now a dull orange that turned to a pale blue, the clouds painted ochre with heavy shadows. It reflected beautifully on the slightly choppy seas of the autumn island you were approaching, the air brisk and making the skin on your bare legs prickle with goosebumps. You didn't shiver though, your jacket keeping your upper half warm and the occasional use of your powers keeping your legs from freezing off.

Killer looked out at the sunrise. It was beautiful, to be frank, but he wasn't one to admit to thinking something was pretty. He just replied with a gruff grunt, before turning to leave for the galley.

“I'm gonna get started with breakfast,” he explained, then paused before speaking on a whim, “did you want to come help me?”

Your agreement with Kid was that you wouldn't be subjected to chores, but if Killer was cooking that meant he was doing it by choice, and only for the commanders. So really it wasn't a chore, it was helping with a hobby. You felt warmed to be invited to join him, and you quickly made up your mind to accept, hoping it would help you make friends here.

“Yeah okay,” you replied cheerfully, shimmying off the skull, “I don't know how to cook though”

“Really? You've never cooked? Or just shit at it?” He asked curiously as you walked towards the galley - not really together, it was more him walking at his own quick pace, and you almost jogging behind to keep up.

“You already know my past, when would I have ever learned?” you replied, a touch annoyed.

“Ah, right,” he said, feeling a little guilty, “sorry. I can teach you, if you'd like”

“Yeah, I think that'd be nice,” you replied. In truth, it was best you learned, in case you ever decided to leave the Kid pirates. It was also a good excuse to spend time with Killer. It seemed like he respected you, and was expected to show a certain level of civility considering your commander status, but that didn't mean he trusted you, or that you trusted him. But trust was important on a crew, you needed to know he'd have your back, and he needed to know you'd have his, so spending time together would help build that trust.

You followed him quietly into the galley, through to a back room past the serving counters that held the kitchen. A few henchmen and the officer in charge of the kitchen were already working on breakfast in the industrial setup, but there was a corner that was untouched. It seemed more homely, the equipment there all on a smaller, less commercial scale, more like what you'd find in a regular, domestic kitchen. It seemed to be Killer's domain, as he made a beeline for it, pulling out pans and ingredients from a fridge.

He pulled out a cookbook from a cabinet and handed it to you before returning to his rummaging. “Find me the recipe for breakfast muffins, and then get out all the ingredients it lists”

He didn't notice the way you stared blankly at the book before opening it, carefully observing the pictures on each page. He was halfway through frying his first batch of bacon before he realised you hadn't moved. “Just find it in the contents page at the front and flick to that page,” he explained. He was trying very hard to be patient.

His patience wore thin when several minutes later you still hadn't pulled out any ingredients, and he turned to yell at you, a deep pre-scorn breath already taken, before noticing the sour expression on your face and putting two-and-two together with a stark realization, the breath he'd taken let out with a heavy exhale.

“You can't read,” he stated.

“Sorry…” you whispered. You felt utterly stupid, and put the book down on the counter in defeat, trying your best not to look at him. He thought hard about what you'd said earlier - when had you had the opportunity to learn to cook? Similarly, when had you had the opportunity to learn to read? He felt wracked with guilt now, it wasn't your fault nobody had taught you to read, and you were clearly embarrassed about it. One conversation and he'd already managed to accidentally hit a sore spot with you, he felt awful about it. He wondered how many other basic skills you'd never been taught.

“It's okay,” he said, softer than he expected it to come out. He put a hand to your waist and gently pulled you in front of the hob, handing your the tongs he'd been prodding the bacon with, “Here, why don't you come cook the bacon instead, just keep shifting it and flipping them every now and then so it doesn't stick, till it looks like the ones I already cooked”

You graciously accepted the change in task while he turned his attention to the book, quickly flicking to the page he needed and scanning the ingredients, before starting to retrieve them from the fridge and cabinets. You were quiet, far quieter than he expected, it made him uneasy.

“You shouldn't feel ashamed of it,” he said as he measured out several cups of flour into a sieve, “those marine pigs should have taught you. Selfish pricks. It's not too late to learn though. We can teach you”

“You don't have to do that,” you replied, a sadness in your voice that made your sound like a kicked puppy, “that sounds like a lot of extra work for all of you, I don't need to be able to read to kill”

He paused. It dawned on him that your whole life you'd been treated like nothing but an object - whether that be as a weapon, or a warm body to fuck. Had anyone ever treated you with any ounce of kindness since being separated from your mother? Those marine cunts really did a number on you, you were somehow even worse off than he'd initially thought. He knew your life had been fucked, but it seemed like every conversation with you revealed another awful part of your backstory, and he wondered how deep the hole went.

“You're more than just a weapon,” he said, collecting some of the bacon he'd cooked earlier to dice up for the muffins, “you're a human. You're allowed to have your own wants and needs. Do you want to learn to read?”

You paused your prodding and looked at him. He returned your glance, your mouth making a tight line as you visibly tried not to cry. “Yes…” you said quietly.

“Then I'll teach you,” he said, returning to the bacon, “it's not a big deal, you'll be more useful to us anyway if you can read”

There was a long, pregnant pause while you tried to avoid the whole topic of your lack of basic skills, and while Killer swam around in his guilt. Not to mention, he had no idea how the fuck to teach someone to read. Maybe he would ask Wire, he taught Killer and Kid to read after all.

“... I think this bacon is done,” you said anxiously, trying to change the subject. He slid a little closer to look at the pan, his arm brushing against yours in the process. You flinched a little at the unexpected contact.

“Yeah, it looks good,” he said, quickly moving away before the accidental touching could register properly in his brain. You were quiet again while you removed the bacon from the pan, holding each piece over the pan for a few moments the way you'd seen him do earlier, so the excess oil could drip off.

“Hey Killer?” you almost whispered, staring at the plate of bacon, not quite sure what to do with yourself now.

“Mm?”

“Could I maybe borrow some more clothes?” you asked nervously, “just till I have a chance to buy my own today. I was hoping to have a shower before I disembark”

“Yeah that's fine,” he replied, pouring the finished muffin batter in to a greased muffin tray, “I'll grab you something after breakfast”

“Thanks,” you mumbled, before excusing yourself to go sit at the commander's table, not really in the mood to talk or help cook anymore.

Your mood picked back up once Heat woke up and joined you at the commander's table, just as excited as you about your shopping trip. The rest of the commanders joined not long after, with Kid arriving just in time for Killer to finish cooking. It was almost like Killer knew exactly when to expect him and had timed his cooking accordingly.

Kid slammed down a dagger and thigh holster on the table in front of you as he sat down, digging straight into the freshly baked breakfast muffins, scrambled eggs and bacon Killer put in front of him.

“Oh, my knife!” you exclaimed, immediately working on attaching the purple leather holster to your thigh. You picked up the dagger and inspected it, it was cleaner and sharper than it had been in years, the delicate floral engravings on the handle now completely free of tarnish. “You cleaned it for me? It looks brand new!”

“It's a well made blade,” Kid said with a mouth full of food, “real fucking shame those marine cunts didn't keep it maintained”

“Well, thank you,” you said with a genuine smile, “I appreciate it, truly”

“Consider it a welcome gift,” he said, brushing it off. He turned to Heat, who had not long finished his breakfast. “Make sure you get her a second weapon today, you know how I don't like not having back-ups. And make sure you gets some warm shit, there's some winter islands coming up, lanky bitch will freeze to death without a proper coat”

“Oi, what's wrong with my jacket?” you pouted, “I'll have you know this is Vegapunk tech, it's more insulating than anything you own. I could do with some pants though, I don't know how much longer I can survive in Killer's shirts and skivvies”

Kid spit out his food in surprise, looking with amused astonishment between you and Killer, “You're wearing Killer's underwear? That's fucking hilarious”

“You thought I was just freeballing it under here?” you laughed.

“A man can dream,” he grinned, “but Killer's undies is definitely ruining the fantasy”

“Damn, what a shame,” you smirked, “well, there goes my chances to be queen of the pirates. Killer, you need a duchess? I mean I'm assuming you'll make him a duke, right? I better invest early”

“I have a position open for you,” Heat toyed.

You and Kid only had to glance at each other before you both erupted in a fit of laughter and in perfect unison yelled “I'M SURE YOU WANT PLENTY OF POSITIONS”

Heat slammed his head on the table with a long groan while you and the captain almost died of laughter, Kid very nearly choking on a muffin. “I walked into that one,” Heat mumbled into the table. Double and Mohawk didn't quite understand the inside joke, but were losing their minds nonetheless. Wire had a shit eating grin on his face at Heat's expense and Killer's shoulders were shimmying in silent laughter.

“Fuck you're a laugh,” Kid laughed, finally catching his breath and smacking you on the shoulder playfully, that was definitely going to bruise, “spend whatever you want today, the log pose will reset tomorrow morning so make sure you get everything you need. I'll hand Heat the money before we dock”

Killer started to stand, as entertaining as this was, he needed to get some sleep before they docked, “I'll leave clothes for you in your room” he told you as he started to leave.

“Thanks Killy!” you shouted after him.

“Don't call me that,” he grumbled as he left.

The ship came into port not long after breakfast, well ahead of schedule thanks to the strong winds around the autumn island. The ship was moored at a small secluded bay, about a fifteen minute walk from the main town, where a small dock had been built on a pleasant stretch of sandy beach. It was far too cold for swimming, but the weather was set to be fine for a bonfire, and there were plenty of trees near the beach to build one. Usually they would have no problem with dropping anchor at the main dock of a small island like this, but given the plans for partying later, they wanted a more private spot.

Heat could barely keep up with you, excitedly skipping along the small worn down path that led to the town ahead of the rest of the group, which was made up of mostly those who had supplies to buy, including most of the commanders. Double wasn't keen on the fifteen minute walk each way, so he'd volunteered to stay with the ship. As soon as the town came into view you were grabbing Heat's hand and dragging him along, anxious to get started.

The first shop you went to was for furniture. Kid expected his commanders to be kept to a certain level of comfort above the other crewmates, to give the henchmen and cabin boys something to work towards, so a small stolen bed and a wooden crate wasn't going to do. They'd come to this store first so henchmen could collect the furniture once they'd rented a cart, so they could bring it all back to the ship and set it up while you were still out.

It was tricky, you'd never even considered buying furniture before and had no idea what you even liked. There weren't any options at these stores along the lines of ‘gross, moldy, incredibly thin mattress with questionable stains’. Thankfully the room was small, all you needed to choose was a bed and mattress, a bedding set, a side table, a chest of drawers, and perhaps some curtains and a few decorations. The decorations for the most part could wait though, they'd probably come more naturally as things caught your eye during the day.

The easiest thing to start with was the mattress. you took your time laying on each of the display options, ultimately picking the hardest one you could find. After years of sleeping on a thin foam pad you simply couldn't get comfortable on a soft bed, though even the hardest option was far softer than what you were used to and softer even than the worn down, stolen mattress you'd slept on last night.

Next came the furniture. If you picked a set it would save you making three individual choices for the bed, side table and dresser. The island was well known for its wood production, so the store featured many finely crafted sets of different wood types to choose from. A purpleheart set caught your eye, with floral carvings embellishing the drawer fronts and headboard. It was probably garish by normal standards and made for a little girl, but you'd never really had a chance at a childhood so who could fault you for wanting it. Heat seemed to approve of the set, saying it suited you, and you picked out a set of yellow floral bedding with a soft, downy comforter to match it.

The only thing left now were the decorations. You wandered around the entire store, followed closely by a sales associate who was noting down everything you were ordering, almost salivating at the commission fee he was going to get from this massive order. You had no idea you’d picked out some of the most expensive items, given you couldn't read, but the Kid pirates had money to spare looting the base they found you on, so Heat hadn't stopped you. With his help and suggestions you picked out a decently sized round mirror with a purple heart frame to match the other furniture, a small brass lamp that was shaped like a droopy flower, some plain cream coloured curtains on a brass rod, and a small, round, lilac rug with a faint floral pattern in slightly darker purple.

Happy with your choices, the sales associate totaled up the amount and Heat handed over a thick stack of money, the sales associate thanking him profusely and quickly setting off to yell at some other employees about getting the order ready for collection. A successful first stop all in all.

Next, Heat took you to a home goods store. You mostly just wandered around, picking up little trinkets here and there to decorate your room, but Heat made sure you picked out several spare sets of sheets, towels, hand cloths and a practical looking duffel bag for occasions when the commanders stayed at inns. He also made sure you got a laundry basket and a lockable box for valuables, in case a sticky fingered cabin boy happened to be cleaning your room.

The next store you went to was for weapons. Being trained by the marines for so long meant you were proficient with many weapons, but you preferred knives and swords since you could use your devil fruit to heat or cool the blade. The old man who worked at the store helped you pick out a katana with a beautiful wavy hamon and a handle wrapped in dark purple cord. You were disappointed that they didn't have anything in the way of fun coloured holsters, so you selected a basic tan coloured belt, which as an added bonus helped cinch Killer's baggy shirt you were wearing, and after Heat haggled for a good price you slipped the new sword in to your belt. You doubted it'd get much use but Kid was right, it was good to have a backup, and a dagger was easy to lose in the chaos of battle. You hoped to eventually find a cross body holster in a colour to match your thigh holster, but that could wait for now.

Before leaving the store a thought occurred to you, and you asked the old man if they sold any seastone. He hummed to himself in thought before disappearing into a back storage room, reappearing shortly after with a small, worn down cardboard box and placing it on the counter. Inside was a variety of seastone pieces, all raw, ranging in size and shape.

“I was going to make weapons from these, but my arthritis got the better of me,” he explained, “take whatever you want, they're not of much use to me now anyway”

You rummaged through the box and selected a small piece of seastone, chucking it in the pocket of your jacket, before thanking the man and leaving. It was small enough to hold in a closed palm, with edges that had been smoothed by time, perfect for your needs. Heat didn't know what you wanted with a piece of seastone, he didn't know a single devil fruit user who wanted seastone, but he handed the man a tip anyway to thank him for his kindness before following after you.

Heat had wisely planned to get all the most important shopping out of the way before you started on clothes, which would no doubt take the entire afternoon, so he dragged you away from a small boutique to go to a basic grocery store. There he made sure you picked out all your basics, like hygiene products. You spent a fair while standing in front of the shampoos and body washes, sniffing each of them before deciding on a matching set of mango and coconut milk scented washes, and a fluffy purple loofah puff. You also spent a fair while standing in front of the hair removal products, wondering whether that was something you should do. This whole time your legs had been out and fully forested - not that your thin, pale, lavender hairs were much of an eyesore. You'd never considered it a choice before, you’d often been forced to wax by perverted commanders but it'd never been your choice. Ultimately you grabbed a bright pink razor, deciding that maybe you enjoyed smooth, shaved skin, as well as grabbing a pack of pads. You only ever needed one or two each cycle given the way you used your devil fruit, and it'd probably be months before it was back, but it didn't hurt to have them on hand.

After begging and pleading, Heat also allowed you to also buy a serious amount of candy and chocolates. You were going to get fucked up on sugar and artifical colours tonight and nobody was going to stop you. You also picked up a hairbrush and a significant amount of hair ties and bobby pins. You had a specific way you liked to do your hair, back before your imprisonment, but you were always losing your accessories.

By now several hours had passed, and both of you were exhausted from shopping, with the hardest part still to come, so you set out to find lunch. You'd both just grabbed several takeaway containers of food from a street vendor and were looking for somewhere to sit when a snotty looking blonde girl bumped into Heat, very purposely making him drop his food.

“Oops, sorry freak!” she laughed, her boyfriend and the other couple they were with snickering behind her, “it's fine though right? I don't see any brains in the mess, so you probably weren't going to eat it anyway right?” she looked at you with a snarky smirk, “or maybe it was for your skinny little whore?”

You were about to rip her head clean off her body when Heat grabbed your arm to calm you. “It's not worth it,” he whispered, his eyes somehow looking even sadder than usual, “we've still got plenty, let's go sit and eat before my feet fall off.”

He completely ignored the group's continued slew of snide remarks as you walked away, dragging you, almost feral, behind him to a quiet bench that looked out over the water. He basically had to force you to sit, still entirely intent on going back and beating the shit out of her.

“What are we doing? We should just kill that bitch,” you growled. He opened the food container in your hand and shoved a fork in it.

“Eat,” he said plainly.

“Heaaaaaat let me go kill her! It'll be so quick I promise!” He couldn't help but think it was cute that you were begging to kill someone the same way you'd begged for candy only half an hour ago. It was sweet, in a fucked up, Kid Pirates kind of way.

“If you kill her it'll make a scene and then it'll be a whole thing and we won't get to shop anymore,” he explained, grabbing one of the unspoilt containers you'd been carrying, “it's fine, I'll just kill her tomorrow if I see her around”

“Fineee,” you pouted, shoving a forkful of fried noodles in your mouth, “but take me with you, I wanna see her bald after I fry her hair follicles. What the fuck did she mean about brains?”

“She was implying I look like a zombie,” he explained, eating his own food, entirety unbothered. You paused and took a long, hard look at him.

“I don't get it,” you said blankly, “I thought zombies were supposed to be like… all gory and ugly and shit. You're too cute to be a zombie”

“That's sweet of you to say, but I get the zombie comment a lot,” he smiled. He was more than used to it by now, but he liked the way he looked and that was all that mattered, the rude comments didn't really bother him anymore.

“Well, they're blind idiots then,” you said plainly, “and I'll fry ALL of their hair follicles”

“Can you actually do that?” he asked curiously, pointing a fork at you, “why did you buy a razor then?”

“Cos it hurts like a bitch, duh,” you laughed, “I did it once to my cooter cos I got sick of sticking my leg in the air to wax it and I swear I still feel it sometimes”

Heat laughed and tried not to think too hard about your apparently bare pussy. ‘Killer's skivvies, Killer's skivvies, Killer's skivvies’ he repeated to himself to keep his dick calm. Unfortunately he immediately remembered your comments from dinner yesterday about picking out panties, and had to basically stab himself in his leg with the fork he was holding.

“You good Heatie Baby?” you asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Yup,” he wheezed, “perfectly fine, eat your food so we can get moving”

Clothes shopping with a woman who had no idea what she liked ended up being a whole situation, who would have thought. The sales clerks clocked you the second you walked in, and you immediately fell victim to them, ending up with several expensive perfumes, a couple of lipsticks that “made your visor pop”, and a handful of nail polishes in your basket before you'd even reached the clothing section.

Picking out clothes was chaotic, and you had no idea what size you were so you had to pick out several of every item and try on everything before making choices. At Heat's suggestion though, you bought everything in a size too big, knowing that hopefully soon, with proper nutrition, you'd be able to put some weight back on. At some point a sales associate noticed Heat's massive handful of options he was carrying for you, as well as his many other shopping bags, and immediately offered to help (which was definitely absolutely nothing to do with getting a commission bonus, definitely). She ended up being extremely helpful in the end though, procuring a cart and helping you select fashionable items that suited you and worked well with your prized jacket, in your selected size so you didn't have to try on several of each item. She even helped you select several sets of shoes to match, as well as some other smaller accessories like hair barrettes and ribbons, and a few necklaces and bracelets. After spotting your marine tattoo you even helped you find a nicer belt for your weapon, in a purple leather that matched your thigh holster. Still not crossbody like you'd like, but better than the previous tan one. ‘Funny how much sway a tattoo she was forced to get has’ Heat thought to himself.

Heat was especially thankful for the woman's help when they reached the underwear section. She showed Heat the ‘boyfriend seat’ before whisking you away to find your bra size and help you pick out a good amount of sets, as well as several sports bras and some more practical panties. The last thing you needed were some pajamas, and you opted for some dainty negligees and a couple of sets of warmer pajamas for cold nights.

By the time you were done it was late afternoon, and you left the store with a truly ridiculous amount of shopping bags - most of them carried by Heat of course, ever the gentleman that he was. All round though it had been a good day, and Heat had enjoyed spending it with you, even if it meant he was too tired to go chasing whores now. He'd have to wait till the next island to get his dick wet.

[NEXT CHAPTER]

[stephensmithuk]

The Sign of Four: A Break in the Chain

It's a rather long walk from Baker Street to Camberwell.

Poplar specifically refers to the area of the East End just north of the Isle of Dogs, but also was the name of the entire district covering Bow and Bromley-by-Bow down through the whole Isle of Dogs area.

The Victorians had asthma inhalers around, although not like the ones we have today. They even had asthma cigarettes and cigars!

Baring-Gould's chronology has Holmes being an actor of some note before he became a consulting detective.

The Westminster Stairs were located just south of Westminster Bridge. Today it is the sight of the Speaker's Garden of the Palace of Westminster, and no access is possible to the river there. However, Westminster Millennium Pier, opened in 2000 to replace the old pier, has various passenger and tour services operate from there.

Oysters were very common and cheap at the time; being sourced from beds in the Thames Estuary; the river through London had become too fast-flowing due to the construction of the Embankment. You could pick them up from street sellers called costermongers (a subject worth its own post at some point!) along with various other locally sourced fish.

Overfishing and pollution vastly reduced their numbers; microplastics are an issue today. However, efforts are being made to restore the oyster beds and have a sustainable industry supplying London again.

Grouse are hunted in England between 12 August and 10 December. They are either driven in large numbers over a bunch of people with shotguns or flushed out by them as they walk.

You can get oven ready grous for about £10 today.

[i-try-to-write-stuff]

Enigma thy name

What happens when sullen Thomas Shelby meets bubbly Y/N, who finds a way to celebrate every moment of her life?

Thomas Shelby was a changed man. His time in Iraq had hardened him. He no longer smiled as much as he used to before his first tour. But that only made him the most feared man in Birmingham.  He decided to rebuild his family’s name, and with that came the responsibility of leading his family, his rag-tag team of henchmen. Thomas had expanded his empire from a betting shop to racing horses and then moved on to exporting car and car parts and, with that, some not-so-legal export of drugs. He was making money by the seconds.

But the Shelby Company started with Garrison, a well-known pub and his family’s pride and joy, and it was a secondary base of the Shelby company. Although Arthur Shelby, his elder brother, owned the pub, it was home to gangsters who called themselves Peaky Blinders.

When he entered Garrison after a tiring week, he had been dealing with Alfie’s mood swings and resolving conflicts from both legal and illegal sides of the business due to supply chain issues. He noticed the lack of customers in the pub.

He swiftly moves inside, and Thomas sits on the seat opposite. Arthur and John had already started the celebration. Their latest venture had paid off.

“Why is there no one here?” Thomas questions his brothers.

“Everybody has decided to go to that hip new café in Moseley Street”, John replied.

“Even our boys have been frequenting that place.” Arthur acknowledges.

Thomas thinks for a while and then summons Harry, the manager of his pub.

“Harry, please get me the books for Garrison and a bottle of whiskey and join us.”

“Yes, Tommy”

“It won’t be pretty”, Arthur chimes.

“Let’s have a look, shall we?”

Thomas looks over the books of the past quarter and sees a steady decline in sales, not astronomical but a gradual decrease.

“When did this café open up?” Tommy asks Harry.

“The café has been operational for the past four months,” Harry replies shakily.

“Do we know who owns it?”

“I think some woman does, and she just settled in Birmingham around the same time,” Harry replies sheepishly.

“What’s going on in that brain of yours, Tommy,” John asks, seeing the blank look on his face.

“I think it is time we check out our competition”, Tommy commented.

“Tommy, we can afford to keep Garrison open,” Arthur grins.

“I want to see how a café can steal business from a pub”, Tommy confesses shadily.

“Be ready by nine. I will meet you there,” Tommy added.

John and Arthur drop the discussion, knowing well enough that when Tommy sets his mind to something, he gets it or will die trying.

Tommy checked his phone, and it was already past midnight. He asked his driver to drop him off at Watery Lane.

Next morning at the café (Caffeine Station) –

Tommy enters the café and sees how warm and welcoming the café feels. The café had a rustic feeling as well as a modern one. It has corner benches for people to work and clusters of tables for the groups. Thomas went to the counter, hoping to get some caffeine in his system.

“Hi, welcome to Caffeine Station.” You greeted enthusiastically, your eyes shining with passion and fire.

“Hi, could I get some coffee and some scone?” Tommy replied in his Brummie accent.

“Do you have any preference for coffee and scone?” you smiled sweetly.

“Whatever you recommend”, Tommy bit out, your attitude bugging him.

“How will you pay cash or by card?” you asked, still shining brighter than the sun, Tommy’s sullen mood not affecting you.

“Could I have your email?” you asked in your sweet voice.

“For what?” Tommy snapped.

“Oh, for the invoice, we send the invoice to your e-mail.” you still replied in the same sweet voice that annoyed him.

Tommy bites his lips and reluctantly gives you his email, which you enter into the system.

“Why don’t you sit? I will find you once your order is ready.” You add pleasantly.

He joins John. John was smirking. John knew Tommy was not a morning person, but he also hated cheerful people, and Tommy’s interaction with the sweet barista was a comedy show for him. His elder brother was annoyed.

“This is a nice operation”, Tommy commented.

“It is quite homey,” John replied.

Tommy sees you approaching their table and shuts his mouth. You serve him quietly.

“So, as you let me have liberty with your order, I got you a buttered scone, chocolate chip scone, and dark roast café au lait. If you don’t like it, let me know, and I will get you something else,” you stated cheerfully.

You turned towards John and asked him if he wanted anything else. John cheekily asked for pastry while handing you his card. You smiled and promised to be back within a few minutes.

Arthur joined them soon. You reached their table with Éclair. John Shelby smiled and thanked you for reading his mind.

You asked Arthur Shelby what he would like, and he asked you to surprise him. John asked you to use his card and get his brother some pastries too.

“Do you like it?” you asked Thomas.

Thomas Shelby just nodded with a faint smile.

“Someone is whipped”, Arthur interjected, motioning towards John.

Tommy glowered, seeing John smiling.

“You are married, John also. Esme will cut off your balls and feed them to you for dinner”, Arthur added.

“She is sweet, innit? Haven’t seen someone smile in our direction for a very long time,” John asked.

“Johnny boy, we are supposed to be feared and revered,” Tommy added.

“She is in the service business, and she is supposed to smile”, Arthur commented.

“She doesn’t have that insincere smile, though”, John added.

Tom nodded, agreeing with his younger brother.

You got some breakfast and caffeine for Arthur and another round of scones for Tommy and John.

Shelby’s saw you interact with every customer in the same way with a pretty smile and a shit ton of excitement. They saw your jovial mood brightening their day. Foot traffic was substantial, as well as customers in the café.  

But the thing that was most interesting in that café was you. You were a source of everything warm, good and pure, and he needed that in his cold, dark and tainted world.

---

Do you want to see another part?

[baby-girl-aaron-dessner]

Totally agree with your point to criticise taylor swift's billionaire status like we would any other billlionaire. No one is an ethical billionaire.

However the point of the tour workers: don't we have multiple articles on how she gave them huge bonuses and isn't she known for paying and tipping well? It's ofc part of PR to report on that. And it in no way takes away from her billionaire status, I'm just asking if the "she probably doesnt pay her workers well" statement holds up.

Everything else you said 100% she could do so much more in regards to sustainability, donating, openly supporting social justice causes, not have 10 huge houses and hoard wealth. Absolutely.

Thanks for reaching out anon. I’m glad my post is being received well and that people are open to discussion <3

This is what I said about workers wages:

‘Try to use sources: You cannot claim that “maybe these workers are being paid fairly” when you do not know that. A lot of workers in the US have wages that have not kept up with inflation. This is part of the reason for the growing wealth gap. I strongly urge you to look into this.’

We only know about the workers bonuses that were reported to the press by her team. You rightfully pointed out that this was great PR.

Other than this, we simply don’t know about whether the workers in her supply chain are being paid fairly.

As I mentioned, when we look at the empirical evidence of GDP growth and its relationship with the distribution between employer/employee income, we see an alarming trend of inequality. I know this because I studied Economics at university and I am a finance major. When we speak about inequality, you have to account for whether wages are keeping up with inflation. For example, for Taylor, her growth in wages is exceeding inflation. For her workers, it’s likely that their wages are not keeping up with inflation. Unfortunately, our current system says that it’s in the power of the employer to make sure wages keep up with inflation and are fairly distributed. This is also why unions are important.

The OECD, World Economic Forum and UN have published many recent reports about this too. As have other multi lateral forums.

These power dynamics are part of the reason why being a billionaire is morally reprehensible.

This is why I encourage people in our fandom to read and educate themselves on economics and finance so that we can apply our critical thinking skills instead of giving into celebrity worshipping impulses that are a result of our parasocial relationships.

I’m thankful that you are engaging with these issues in a productive way and have reached out in a respectful manner. Sadly, I cannot say the same for a lot of other people.

[thesearethedayswellneverforget]

I am a 32yo grown independent woman who just saw Jack White 14 times on his 2022 european tour and even met the man himself a couple of times, so what i mean is believe in your dreams kids

[walkonsalt]

x

[beardedmrbean]

The United States will work with other governments to speed up efforts to make nuclear fusion a new source of carbon-free energy, U.S. Climate Envoy John Kerry said Tuesday, the latest of many U.S. announcements the last week aimed at combatting climate change.

Nuclear fusion melds two hydrogen atoms together to produce a helium atom and a lot of energy—which could be used to power cars, heat and cool homes and other things that currently are often powered by fossil fuels like coal, oil and gas. That makes fusion a potentially major solution to climate change, which is caused by the burning of fossil fuels. Still, fusion is a long way off, while other clean technologies like wind, solar and others are currently in use and could be increased.

“We are edging ever-closer to a fusion-powered reality. And at the same time, yes, significant scientific and engineering challenges exist,” Kerry said, in Dubai for U.N. climate talks. “Careful thought and thoughtful policy is going to be critical to navigate this.”

Researchers have been trying for decades to harness the reaction that powers the sun and other stars — an elusive goal because it requires such high temperatures and pressures that it easily fizzles out.

Kerry wants to speed that up in hopes of limiting global warming to 1.5 degrees Celsius (2.7 degrees Fahrenheit) since pre-industrial times, a benchmark set by the international community. He urged nations to come together to “harness the power of fundamental physics and human ingenuity in response to a crisis.” The strategy lays out five areas for international partnerships: research, the supply chain and future marketplace, regulation, workforce issues and public engagement. Kerry spoke at the Atlantic Council Global Energy Forum.

The United States and United Kingdom announced a partnership in November to accelerate global fusion energy development, and the United States announced its own vision last year for research needed over the decade. In southern France, 35 nations are collaborating on an experimental machine to harness fusion energy, the International Thermonuclear Experimental Reactor, to prove the feasibility of fusion as a large-scale, carbon-free source of energy. That project has been plagued by delays and cost overruns. On Friday, Japan and Europe said they were launching the world's largest fusion reactor.

Both China and Russia are partners in ITER, and China in particular is moving aggressively to promote fusion research and development, said Andrew Holland, chief executive officer of the Fusion Industry Association.

"We're trying to build a global posse to get there before the Chinese so the Chinese don't dominate another new technology," he said.

Before he left for Dubai, Kerry put on a hardhat and toured Commonwealth Fusion Systems in Devens, Massachusetts, a company racing to design, build and deploy fusion power plants.

Until now, all nuclear power has come from nuclear fission reactors in which atoms are split — a process that produces both energy and radioactive waste. The global nuclear industry launched an initiative at COP28 for nations to pledge to triple this kind of nuclear energy by 2050. More than 20 have already signed on, including the United States and the host of this year's talks, the United Arab Emirates.

Fusion doesn’t produce the radioactive waste of nuclear fission. In a global race to make it a practical and possibly limitless power source, more than $6 billion has been invested to date, according to the Fusion Industry Association. There are more than 40 fusion companies globally now with over 80% of the investment in the United States. Thirteen of the companies emerged in just the past year and a half.

Commonwealth Fusion Systems has raised the most, more than $2 billion, according to the association.

Like the 35-nation effort, Commonwealth is trying to create fusion inside what's called a tokamak. The doughnut-shaped machine uses powerful magnets to confine and insulate a plasma so it's hot enough for the fusion reaction to occur and stays hot longer.

A year ago, in a major breakthrough that used a different technology at the Lawrence Livermore National Laboratory in California, scientists for the first time were able to engineer a reaction that produced more power than was used to ignite it, called net energy gain. Their process uses lasers.

Physicists around the world view the doughnut-shaped machines as the most promising kind of magnetic fusion device.

Tokamaks have been getting bigger in size for better performance. Commonwealth Fusion was founded in 2018 by researchers and students from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology Plasma Science and Fusion Center. Using breakthroughs in superconducting magnet technology combined with science from their own compact tokamak, the MIT group set out to build a magnet tolerant of high temperatures that could achieve really strong magnetic fields, using little electricity.

Their hope is to build a smaller, less expensive unit more rapidly, to make fusion commercially viable for the first time, said Professor Dennis Whyte, a co-founder of Commonwealth who leads the Plasma Science and Fusion Center.

“If fusion becomes economically competitive, we've solved energy for humanity forever, forever. It's like, of course you go after that," he said in an interview. “The compulsion that’s coming both from climate change and from energy security means it sure seems this is the right time to make the big push to get there.”

The company and the university collaborate closely. In 2021, they turned on their superconducting electromagnet and demonstrated a record-breaking magnetic field, making it the strongest fusion magnet of its kind. Whyte said he knew then fusion had changed forever.

But despite the hype, reliable and cheap nuclear fusion energy is still a pipe dream, said Edwin Lyman, director of nuclear power safety for the Union of Concerned Scientists in Washington. Fusion is far less likely than other alternatives to be commercialized on a timeframe that would allow it to help prevent the worst effects of climate change, he said. Lyman said the enormous price tag could also rob more promising alternatives, such as renewable energy, of resources they need to thrive,

Yet 19 fusion companies think they will deliver power to the grid before 2035, the Fusion Industry Association said in July.

Commonwealth is designing its first power plant, which it's calling “ARC,” to connect to the grid in the early 2030s.

ARC is intended to make roughly 460 megawatts of electricity. About 60 of those would be used to run the plant, for a net output of about 400 megawatts, enough to power tens of thousands of homes. It's projected to cost roughly $1 billion to $2 billion, according to the company, and fit on a space the size of a basketball court.

Before that, Commonwealth says it will build and test a prototype tokamak it calls SPARC, hoping to turn that on in late 2025 or early 2026.

CEO Bob Mumgaard said he thinks clean energy from fusion can decarbonize heavy industries that are big emitters of greenhouse gases.

“That’s our future play, it’s the really hard stuff, the stuff that gets you to zero," he said in an interview.

Along the walls at Commonwealth runs a pattern of white dots at hip level, one for each of the 10,000 fusion power plants they think the world will need by 2050. Mumgaard said it's a daily reminder the world uses a lot of energy, most of it from fossil fuels, and that has to change.

[dcbbw]

Sunday Snippets 8.7.22

Happy Sunday, Tumblr! I hope everyone’s weekend has been restful, relaxing, and restorative.

I am here for Six Sentence Sunday. I have snippets from two new stories to share. Ideas for a lot of stories, old and new, are bubbling up; fingers crossed secret ingredients arrive soon and are not delayed by supply chain issues.

And I PROMISE, I am working on some Riam: they’re going to be birthing babies, celebrating 25 years on the throne, and “vacationing” in Texas. Also in the mix: some Liara, DC AU Maxlivia, Little Nobles, One Night Stand, and working on a second part to Déjà vu (trying to work a twist in there).

Snippets are below the cut, but no music inspos just yet. As always, everything is in a state of rough draft, and final product and serving sizes may vary.

Wanderlust (Adventures of a Crown Prince):

We end the call; I absently scratch my bare stomach as I pour a cup of joe, ignoring the cream and sugar.

I like my bad habits undiluted.

I walk over to the window, pulling the heavy drapes apart using a braided gold tassel. Yep, I’m in London. The city is gray and overcast, a sea of umbrella raised against the drizzling rain.

It’s six months after the death of Queen Consort Eleanor. Father thought it best I begin touring foreign countries to expand my knowledge of international politics and policies. I have a decent knowledge of the concept, but textbooks and real-life are two different things. As Crown Prince of Cordonia, it was my duty to be able to speak not only knowledgeably, but from experience.

It was all a farce, two-fold: I was a known runaway, and Constantine had no idea how to handle it. I was punished for my travels within Cordonia, I was berated. But he never asked me why I ran.

Never.

He assumed I wanted to see the world outside of palace walls.

I didn’t.

I was searching for my mother. I still am.

The second reason he sent me away was so he could grieve alone without having to deal with two sons who were also hurting. Eleanor was a loving mother to both Liam and me. She never replaced my mother nor my memories of her; Eleanor didn’t even try. Instead, she gave me new ones to remember her by.

Liam was farmed out to the Walkers, and I was sent to England for a fortnight. I’d like to think Father sent us away for our own safety; it was evident he had enemies, but were they in the Palace? This was a time for us to be a family, to grieve together and show solidarity … not separated and alone under the watchful gaze of guards.

The guards didn’t save Eleanor. They never found my mother. And he thought they were the best course of action.

Life in a Southern Town:

Voting in the Mayoral primaries is in exactly eight weeks, with early voting taking place in four weeks. Please make sure you are registered to vote in what promises to be a true family feud! The candidates are:

Riley Brooks-Rys, the Incumbent. Mayor Brooks-Rys has served two four-year terms as our fearless leader and has brought major employers to our city and surrounding suburbs, kept the tax rate steady; she has also been instrumental in bridging the gap between law enforcement and the community to lower incidences of crime in Creswell.

Her missions and goals for a third term include diversity and inclusion, sustainability, and affordable housing.

Liam Rys: Liam Rys is the ex-husband of the Incumbent, former State Senator, and a current councilmember representing Ward B. Mr. Rys is also chair of the City’s Economic and Development Board. He says that Creswell is ready for change and effective leadership, and he’s the man to do it.

He has not revealed his agenda should he be elected Mayor.

The couple share custody of their two daughters, Eleanor and Fabiana.

Madeleine Amaranth: Current councilmember at-large. She is the former sister-in-law of the Incumbent and lost soundly in the last Mayoral election. Ms. Amaranth is the Southeastern District Manager for Walmart Corporation and can be found cheerfully cashiering at the Diamond Plaza Center store when not traveling for audit and inspections at regional stores.

Councilmember Amaranth is running on a platform of governmental transparency, city growth, and equity for every member of the Creswell community.

Leo Rys: You may remember this candidate as the former District Court Judge who stepped down from the bench for good 18 months ago to hang his shingle as a criminal defense attorney, taking on most of Creswell’s highest profile and murkiest cases.

If elected, Attorney Rys, ex-husband of Councilmember Amaranth, promises to clean out City Hall and repair the communication, economic, and class systems dividing Creswell,

Drake Walker: Mr. Walker, owner of the Saddle Up Bar & Grill located in Government Square, is a familiar face at Council meetings in addition to sitting on both the Neighborhood Affordability Council and the Creswell Transportation Board.

He and the Incumbent were previously involved in a romantic relationship which must not have ended well as he has since sued the city a whopping 12 times, citing that his FOIA requests for public information were never answered.

When asked why he was running to be Mayor of Creswell, Mr. Walker replied with, “That woman is a demon, and it’s time for the Devil’s handmaiden to return to Hell where she belongs.”

We here at Creswell Chat are unsure if Mr. Walker is running on a religious platform or not.

Tagging:@jared2612 @ao719 @burnsoslow @marietrinmimi @merridithsmiscellany-blog @queenjilian  @indiacater​ @kingliam2019​ @bebepac​ @liamxs-world​ @the-soot-sprite​ @hopelessromanticmonie​ @mom2000aggie​ @cmestrella​ @iaminlovewithtrr​ @liamrhysstalker2020​  @neotericthemis​ @twinkleallnight​ @umccall71​ @superharriet​  @busywoman​ @gabesmommie1130​ @tessa-liam​ @phoenixrising308​ @beezm​ @gardeningourmet​ @lovingchoices14​ @foreverethereal123​ @mainstreetreader​ @angelasscribbles​ @lady-calypso​ @emkay512​ @jovialyouthmusic​ @21-wishes​ @princessleac1​ @charlotteg234​ @bbrandy2002​ @queenrileyrose​ @debramcg1106​ @alj4890​ @yourfavaqua222​

In case you’re interested: @motorcitymademadame 

[bandaidpennylane]

New York Times interview with Jack White’s 3rd wife Olivia.

By Madeleine Aggeler

It was something out of a fairy tale, if everyone in fairy tales wore denim and leather and looked like they smoked American Spirits. One minute, Olivia Jean was a shy kid from Michigan competing in her school’s battle of the bands show, and the next, she’s performing with her boyfriend, the musician Jack White, and he’s proposing to her in the middle of his song “Hotel Yorba” — right before the line “Let’s get married/ In a big cathedral by a priest.” A minute later, Mr. White remembered, come to think of it, one of the guys backstage was a licensed minister — does she want to get married right then? She said yes.

On an early April evening, a crowd that had gathered in the Masonic Temple of Detroit for the kickoff of Mr. White’s Supply Chain Issues tour was drenched in the warm glow of love, bright blue stage lights and a couple of contraband cellphones that enterprising audience members had managed to slip past security. Also in attendance: the father of the bride, Brent Markel, who had been watching the show, unaware of what was to come, and appeared onstage to give his blessing.

“Initially I was shocked and confused when Jack said, ‘Let’s get married right now,’  Mr. Markel said. “But when I realized it was happening, I was so happy for them.” Altogether, Ms. Jean and Mr. White’s entire marital courtship — engagement to wedding — lasted just five and half minutes. “It was the best experience of my life,” Ms. Jean, 32, said several weeks later. “You could plan a wedding for five years and it wouldn’t compare to that.” 

At her favorite vintage store in Nashville, where the couple live, Ms. White showed off her appropriately goth engagement ring: a marquise cut onyx that she had worn on her middle finger for years, and that Mr. White, 46, surreptitiously had customized while under the guise of getting it cleaned. He had three black diamonds added on either side, and a small diamond placed in the middle. “It looks like a spaceship,” Ms. Jean said, admiring her pale, slender hand. “Or a beetle.”

Ms. Jean floated through the racks of cat T-shirts and whimsical sweaters with a surprising lightness for someone with combat boots the size of compact sedans strapped to her feet. Her look is that of a rockabilly Morticia Addams: long, jet black hair, severe bangs over glacier blue eyes and swooping eyeliner sharp enough to cut glass. Marriage stories have a way of eclipsing everything around them, especially for women, and especially for women marrying a mega-celebrity, like Ms. Jean just did. Take June Carter Cash’s ambivalence toward her own onstage engagement — the less goth predecessor of Mr. White and Ms. Jean’s nuptials. In 1968, Johnny Cash proposed to Ms. Carter in front of a crowd of 7,000 people in London, Ontario. When asked about the engagement 13 years later, in a joint 1981 interview on the “Mike Douglas Show,” Ms. Cash said: “You’re not going to make me tell it again!” Ms. Jean has not yet tired of her own engagement story, but she said that long before Mr. White placed the beetle ring on her finger, she was a musician with her own body of work and her own fans.

She performed with the band the Black Belles from 2009 to 2012, then released two solo albums, “Bathtub Love Killings,” in 2014, and “Night Owl,” in 2019. During the pandemic, she started working on a third album, which is mostly done, but probably won’t be released until 2023 because of a vinyl shortage. 

Ms. Jean’s music is loud and muscular, a distinctly Americana combination of brash garage rock and boppy surf music. It’s music to listen to while applying red lipstick in the rearview mirror of a convertible, or while fantasizing about smashing an ex’s TV with a baseball bat.What she writes about best, she said, is “frustration, stress and being angry,” though she insists that in reality she’s really quite content. “I live a pretty easygoing, happy life,” she said, smiling. “That just seems to be the only thing that inspires me, is writing about sassy emotions.” The wedding did change things, though. There’s being a successful musician, and then there’s being a successful musician whose spontaneous wedding to a well-known rock star made headlines around the world. 

Fans know rock star couples on a first-name basis: Sonny and Cher; John and Yoko; Whitney and Bobby. These couples become greater than the sum of their two parts. Fairly or not, their art and their relationships become inextricable, each one seeming to fuel the other — the romance inspires the music, and the music inspires grand, romantic gestures, like, say, getting married onstage in front of thousands of people. “I feel like a spotlight’s been put on me after that experience,” Ms. Jean said. “It was a really positive thing that happened, and it makes me happy to know that other people approve of it, and appreciate how cool that was. 

So it’s positive, but strange. Very strange. Ms. Jean grew up in the suburbs just outside of Detroit. Her parents encouraged their four children to be creative. When she was 7, inspired by a B-52’s record she stole from her father, Ms. Jean got her first guitar and started teaching herself to play. In second grade, she formed a band called Broken Glass. At 12, she started a band with her brother. They played the school talent show and won the battle of the bands, a victory that still clearly delights her. By high school, Ms. Jean was a loner who spent much of her free time recording her own surf music. She played all the instruments herself, recording each on a tiny computer microphone and layering them on top of each other with a free audio editing program. At 16, she started playing small clubs around Detroit. She handed out her homemade CDs to friends and co-workers, who mostly seemed confused by the offering. “It was a hobby,” she said. “I didn’t know you could make money off of music.” 

Then, in 2009, when she was 19 and going to school for graphic design, Ms. Jean had two very important conversations in quick succession. The first was with a friend, who told her that the Dead Weather, Jack White’s band, was playing a secret show in Detroit that same night. She had two hours to grab a stack of her demos of instrumental surf music and rush to the venue, where she scattered the CDs on tables and chairs. But the people in the audience weren’t the ones whose attention she really wanted. Slipping outside, she laid out a path of demos from the band’s tour bus to the side door they used to enter the venue — a yellow brick road of rock music. The second very important conversation was with Mr. White, who called her a couple of weeks later and said that he liked her music, and asked her if she wanted to come to Nashville and record some of her songs with him at his recording company, Third Man Records.“I put the phone down and then I just laid on the ground for a few minutes,” Ms. Jean said. “Like, this is not real. This can’t be real. This doesn’t happen to people.”

“I put the phone down and then I just laid on the ground for a few minutes,” Ms. Jean said. “Like, this is not real. This can’t be real. This doesn’t happen to people. “The fact that she incorporated surf guitar and the low-fi recording of all the instruments (that she played herself) into her songs, while also being from Detroit, not to mention the bouffant hairdo and style, all showed me this was a very unique and talented person worth inviting into the Third Man world,” he [Jack White]  wrote over email. It was the moment all aspiring rockers dream of when they hang up posters of their favorite bands on their bedroom walls. But Nashville can be humbling, even for the most talented amateur musician. 

In Music City, music isn’t a hobby, it’s a career. As Ms. Jean put it: “I thought I was awesome in Detroit, and then I moved here.” Ms. Jean dropped out of school and started recording music for Third Man. In Tennessee, she met Ruby Rogers and Shelby Lynn, a pair of musicians with whom she clicked, partly because they shared that most sacred of human connections: similar hairstyles. The women formed a band, the Black Belles, and started recording some of Ms. Jean’s songs. They performed together for three years and gained a decent amount of attention. They put out a record that Mr. White produced and collaborated on songs with the actress Elvira and the late night host Stephen Colbert. “It was hard in a good way, because it inspired me to become better,” Ms. Jean said of that period. “But at the same time, you become a little less confident in yourself. You start to realize, I’m not as great as I thought I was, so now I really need to work.” Over email, Ms. Rogers recalled “rehearsing constantly,” and Ms. Lynn wrote that “The Black Belles was a crash-course in rock ’n’ roll.” “It was an absolute whirlwind of blood, sweat and mascara-drenched tears,” Ms. Lynn said. “We grew up together in those years, and the creative bond we developed, it became almost telepathic and has been unmatched in any other band setting I’ve found myself in. It was high pressure to be sure, and I think that brought out our finest work as musicians.” In 2012, the Black Belles split amicably. Ms. Jean took a couple of years off.

Eventually, in 2014, she put out her first solo album. It was around that time that her relationship with Mr. White evolved into something more serious. “We were just really good friends,” she said. “You have to know that you can be friends for a while before you can date. It wasn’t really a transition. It was more, OK, this is happening. More like a continuation.” During the pandemic, the couple hunkered down at their Nashville home, and according to Ms. Jean “tried to be as creative as possible.” They both worked on their music, and Mr. White helped produce Ms. Jean’s new album. She also worked on various graphic design projects for Third Man as well as her own merchandise. The creativity was so overflowing in their house that it got a little crowded. Ms. Jean decided to convert the pool house into her own music studio so that she and Mr. White wouldn’t be competing for time in his. 

She painted the walls hot pink and covered the floors in plush, hot pink carpet. My little pink nightmare,” she said. So far, she said, it hasn’t even really hit her that she’s married. No sooner did they get hitched than Mr. White went off on tour, and she’s mostly been back in Nashville, putting the finishing touches on her new record and rehearsing with her band. “I’ve realized as I get older that I have my own thing. I’m niche,” she said. “This is who I am, and people accept that or they don’t, it doesn’t matter to me.”

[six-costume-refs]

Hello hello! Love this page and all your insightful commentary! Curious is you had any insight into the new costumes for UK Tour. Jen Caldwell has posted new Bobo costume pics on her insta stories!! Looks like they have changed to the US colour green? What do you think?

Hey! So glad you enjoy!

I don't know for sure why Jennifer Caldwell got a new costume. The average lifespan of the Six costumes is about a year, but there are any number of reasons for why one could be replaced earlier: the costume wearing down, the costume not looking or fitting correctly, them just wanting to try a new look, etc. There could be arguments made for several of those, but whatever it is it’s worth noting that her old Boleyn costume had already gone through a few alterations: the original, switching the stretch panels from the back to the sides, and then there was another in there that it looks like neither Sofia nor I posted about.

So...it seems like there was something not quite working with that costume. It may not have been enough that it needed to be totally replaced but at that point in time it may have just been more convenient for them to replace it then not. Six had booked their costume makers for the new West End cast change far in advance of auditions and may not have known for sure who was sticking around. Since Danielle did, they may have just had an extra slot for an second Boleyn costume booked with the costume maker (WhiteStar) that they now didn’t need and decided to just use it to replace Jen’s. As for why they switched to the dark green...it could be for general standardization, although there’s still variance in materials between some of the other costumes. It could be because they preferred how it looked onstage. It could be just to try it out, to experiment with a different design. It could be a supply chain issue, because the darker green vinyls are much easier to find than the lighter ones. It could even be a logistics consideration; the Broadway vinyls are at least partially custom ordered, and when buying custom materials in bulk it’s going to be a better deal to buy enough for 20+ costumes each year than it will be to buy enough for 4 costumes in the UK materials, ~15 in the US/NCL, etc (also talked about that a little here with alt costumes and general standardization). It’s probably a mix of several or all of the above reasons!