#took me 2 more years to come out to her via texting her a google slideshow i made on my phone

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Edge of Seventeen - Chapter Two.

A huge thank you to all of those who have interacted with the first chapter of this, I appreciate you SO much!!

Previous chapters - One

Tag list - In the comments

Words - 3,253

Warnings - 18+ content throughout, minors DNI!

Song reference - Feed my Chaos by Lilith Czar - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uyMeaoD1p-c

‘Am I the victim?  Am I the criminal?  Am I the angel or diabolical?  The bullet or the gun?  What have I become?  Created in the pain of filth and dust 

Sex and energy  Turn your head off  Chasing reality  Feed my chaos  Bathed in holy light  Crown comes with a cost  Fuel me from the fight  Feed my chaos.’ 

Angel couldn’t stop listening to it, the original track by Heavenly Creature, entitled Feed my Chaos. They’d only been formed for three and a half months and already, they’d pooled their money together to record a few tracks, gotten themselves a few little shows, and were determined to make a name out there.  He admired Bella’s tenacity and zeal hugely, putting together all of the lyrics she’d been writing over the years and crafting actual songs, good songs, too, confessing to him that she was a hoarder of notebooks, always scribbling down something, never without paper and a pen to record inspiration whenever it hit her. 

Because of their conflicting schedules, Bella busy with college and his life between outlawing and scrap metal heaving keeping him busy, he hadn’t actually managed to see her again as yet, but they chatted regularly via text in the five days that followed their first meet. In fact, whenever Angel wasn’t busy with club duties, his phone appeared to be welded to his hand. 

‘Hey pretty girl. What you up to?’ 

Hearing her message alert, Bella reached for her nightstand to pick her phone up, squeaking with excitement when she saw it was from Angel.  

‘Just chilling at home, playing guitar, writing stuff. You?’ 

‘Hanging at the clubhouse before I hit the gym. You busy this afternoon?’  

‘Nope, I have a half day from college so I’m just gonna sit here with my guitar and stuff myself silly with bagels and cream cheese. Unless you had a more appealing alternative?’ 

Shit. Was that too forward? Was he merely asking what she was doing out of interest, and not leading anywhere with it? Could she unsend the message before he read it? Two little blue ticks next to the Whatsapp box revealed she couldn't, Bella cringing as she softly thudded her head against the top of her acoustic guitar.  

‘Wanna meet me for a few drinks?’  

Phew!  

‘Yeah, that’d be great. If I get on the train, I can probably be in Santo Padre by the time you’re done with the lifting of the heavy things.’ 

“Lifting of the heavy things,” he chuckled quietly, typing out another message.  

‘Alright. Do you know where West Point Social is? It’s a real cool bar, and they do great food too, if you wanted to stay for dinner?’ 

‘I don’t, but I have Google Maps, I’ll find it! Meet you there at say, 3:30pm?’ 

‘Cool, see you then.’  

Placing her guitar down, Bella rushed off her bed towards the large, heavy oak wardrobe in the corner of her room. Everything was vintage and nothing matched, but that was hers and her mother’s taste all over. “What the hell do I wear?” Flinging the door open, all of a panic, she raided the contents, considering a dress but then quickly vetoing that decision, landing on her skin-tight, light blue jeans and a simple cropped white top. She teamed them with her black stiletto heeled boots, her usual abundance of jewellery too, picking up one of her beloved heavy fringed bags, this one dark red and unloading all of her stuff into it before quickly touching up her makeup.  

The train took forty-five minutes to reach Santo Padre from her home of La Jolla, Bella barely making it after purchasing a ticket, running across the platform as fast as her feet would carry her, sliding in between the doors just as they were shutting with a grateful sigh. She would arrive at 2:57pm, looking on her phone and seeing that the bar was a twenty-minute walk from the station, which was doable.  

Her feet disagreed with her two thirds of the way through the walk, but the sight waiting for her at a table on the decking area outside the bar was more than worth it. Fuck. She’d almost forgotten how attractive he was. He was without his kutte, dressed simply in a white vest, dark grey shirt left open and a pair of dark blue jeans, heavy silver jewellery adorning his neck, fingers and wrists. When he saw her, he actually felt a wave of butterflies flutter through him. God, she was so gorgeous, every set of male eyes outside of the bar watching her as she walked, Angel feeling ten feet tall when she arrived with him, standing up to greet her with a hug and a quick kiss.  

“Damn,” he breathed, sitting down again. “You look smokin’!”  

Bella felt herself blush, her insides screaming with excitement. “Thanks. Looking pretty lush over there yourself, too.”  

“Lush? Is that a British-ism?” 

“Yeah, kind of. More Welsh than anything. I picked it up off one of my favourite TV shows, Gavin and Stacy. I doubt you’ll have heard of it,” she spoke, placing her bag down, giving her long hair a little ruffle.  

He looked completely nonplussed. “Nope, but maybe I’ll watch it with you sometime.” He sat back, shaking his head, barely able to believe his luck. She was so beautiful! It was making him a little crazy, truth be known. “So, what do you want to drink?” 

“A Coke, please.” 

He leaned forward, making a beckoning gesture with his finger. She reciprocated, leaning closer. “What do you really want to drink?” 

She bit her lip, grinning. “Malibu and Coke, please?” 

He winked, getting up. “I’ll be back.” He didn’t have any qualms about buying her alcohol, even if she was three years under the legal age limit. Besides, she easily passed for twenty-one. While he was inside, Bella took out her cigarettes, lighting up and looking out around the space. Southern California was, as one might imagine, completely different to her native Hammersmith. The vibe, the people, everything was in stark contrast, most of all the weather, London mostly dull and grey, save for the stifling summer months. She realised that after six months in San Diego, though, she knew nothing of hot weather prior to her move.  

“What’s that stuff like, then?” Angel spoke, arriving back and placing her drink down, Bella taking a grateful sip. She was parched after her walk. “I can’t say I’ve ever tried it.” He nodded towards her glass, Bella sliding it across the table to him.  

“Here, try a sip.”  

He picked it up, giving it a cautionary sniff. The face he made prompted her tiny snort laugh, sipping it back all the same. “Oh, Jesus in a fucking side car!”  

There it was again, her booming laugh. “Not a fan?” 

“It’s vile! It tastes like air freshener!” 

“And now many Magic Trees have you been chomping down on to be able to use those as your comparison?” She bobbed her tongue between her teeth playfully, Angel leaning forward in his seat, pointing at her. 

“No shaming my snack habits. They’re low carb.”  

She was in soft fits. “Low carb, all card?” 

“Exactly that,” he confirmed with a nod. “So, how was college?” 

“Boring!” she yelled, maybe a little too loudly. “We had to learn about the basis of chord progression, which is stupid since I know it already! I’ve been playing guitar since I was six!” She suddenly realised her statement came off as a little arrogant, continuing. “I mean, I don’t want to sound like a Johnny know-it-all, but I was just frustrated because I could have been using that time for something else, something brand new to me.” 

He reached for her hand, seeing the sudden worry in her face. “I understand, it’s like, you want to make the most of your time. You’re there to build on what you already know, not go over the same things. Maybe though, just see it as a chance to reminds yourself of those things again and keep them fresh?” She’d never looked at it like that before, and had to admit, he was right. She guessed her headstrong youth had a lot to do with it, Angel getting past his now at thirty-six. Already, she knew that would be a point of fascination about him, the fact he was likely a lot wiser than her in some ways.  

As they sat and chatted, Angel was fascinated by her, learning more about her homeland, the UK a place that by his own admission, he knew very little about at all.  

“I miss it there, I do,” she replied in answer to his question. “I mean, San Diego has everything London does, almost, but what I loved so much about London was the extremities of the cultural diversity. We have so many nationalities of people migrating, and they bring their culture of course, from food to music, it was just such an amazing scene. I always said I wanted to travel, though, so these are my first steps in making sure I don’t stay rooted, that I get out there and see the whole world.” 

“And you hope it’ll be your music that’ll make that happen for you?” he asked, taking another nacho from the huge plate they were sharing.  

“It will be, I’m certain of it. I’m not going to stop until I make something of myself, and music is going to be it.” He loved that about her, how confident she was. She had every reason to be. 

“Well, you damned sure got the talent,” he began, taking a swig of his beer when a particularly spicy piece of jalapeno began sizzling the back of his tongue. “Seriously, I can’t get enough of your music. I usually mostly listen to either old school hip hop or metal, but your stuff, I fucking love. Your voice, Jesus Christ, man! You even impressed Bish, and that ain’t easy to do. He’s very set in his ways over what he likes, but he was stunned when you started singing.” 

Her face was curious, wiping sour cream from her fingers with a napkin. “Who’s Bish?” 

“President of the MC, Bishop Losa,” Angel confirmed, Bella’s eyes widening a little.  

“Does he have a daughter called Hadleigh?”  

Angel nodded, pouring the remaining salsa over the nachos. He always ordered extra, because of the inevitable dry under chip situation. “He does! My beloved ass face!” 

Bella almost choked on her drink. “I know her! Well, I kind of know her, we move in the same circle. She’s dating a guy who’s friends with Ian, our drummer. Why’d you call her ass face?”  

“Because Hadleigh Losa is the biggest pranker on earth, she gets it right from her old man, and they prank on each other constantly. One night, she fell asleep at the club, and to get her back for emptying flour into his leaf blower, he drew an ass on her forehead with marker pen. She went fucking insane! Came off with rubbing alcohol, but I swear, I nearly broke a rib from laughing so hard!” 

“He sounds like a fun dad. I remember mine used to be the same. He’d play jokes in my mum all the time, particularly with an airhorn. He used to hide behind doors, under the bed, tables, and one time he even managed to wedge himself in the pantry. She said that was the only thing she didn’t miss after he died, the fact that at any given moment, she was five seconds from pissing her pants in fear at the threat of an airhorn being let off,” she detailed, remembering one time when he’d hid behind the curtains and gotten her, her mum throwing an entire bowl of popcorn in the air. Their old basset hound, Rufus had eaten well that night. “What was your dad like while you grew up?” 

“Stern,” Angel confirmed, thanking the passing waitress when she took their empty bottles and glasses away. “Mom was always the fun one. She was the sweetest woman, I swear. She was like you in so much that she lived and breathed music, so we listened to so much, from traditional Spanish stuff to Janis Joplin and Joan Jett, who she loved.” 

“Oh my god!” Bella cried, holding a hand to her chest. “Those women are two of my biggest idols!”  

“She even got to see Janis, you know. She snuck over the border and hitch hiked all the way up to Hollywood to watch her play at the Hollywood Bowl.”  

Bella’s eyes couldn’t have been more alight. “Bloody hell! Now that’s dedication. She sounds like she was such an incredible person, and you’ve only told me a little about her. I’m so sorry, about what happened to her.”  

Angel nodded, something sharp tingling in his chest. He missed her so much. “Thanks. I know you get it, though, that’s something we have in common, really missing one of our parents. So, tell me about your mom then, or mum, as you call her.” he teased.  

“She’s just terrific, she’s my best friend,” she began, scrunching her nose a little. “And I know that sounds really lame, but she is. She’s so chilled out, a real hippie type, and hugely clever. There literally isn’t a single thing she doesn’t know about plants, and her work is so fascinating, everything she researches in how plants can be used for differing purposes. She specialises in what’s known at phytochemistry.” 

“It sounds really complicated,” Angel confessed, sipping his beer.  

“Oh, it is. Half of what she tells me I’m just sitting there like, ‘what the bloody, buggery fuck, mum?’ over!” He laughed, loving her differing colloquialisms. He heard plenty more of them as they continued to talk, sharing stories from their lives, finding common grounds, detailing their differences, leaning so much about one another that the time flew by.  

It was a first date that went so well that by the time the sun had gone down, Bella had moved around to the other side of the table, sat across his lap, sharing kisses that probably bordered on much too steamy for a public place, but she didn’t care. Neither did he.  

“I hate to put a stop to this,” she sighed, her lips tingling. 

“Then don’t,” Angel interjected, his hand stroking her thigh.  

She laughed softly through her nose, leaning in to kiss him again. He was the best kisser she’d ever experienced, probably because he’d likely kissed hundreds more people than she had, or he was just naturally talented. Either way, she didn’t care. She couldn’t get enough. “I have to, though. My train leaves in forty minutes, and it’ll take me twenty to get back to the station.” 

He looked thoughtful for a moment. “How much later could you stay if I paid for your cab home?” 

Her mouth dropped open immediately. “Angel, that’s at least a sixty-dollar cab ride! I can’t ask you to do that!”  

His hand wandered up and down her back, leaning forward to kiss her cheek a few times. “You ain’t asking, I’m offering. How long?” 

Looking at the time on her phone, she worked it out. She didn’t have a curfew as such, her mum being quite relaxed, but she knew that in order to be fresh for college the next day, she should be home for about midnight. “Two hours?” 

“Done. Your sexy butt is staying exactly where it is,” he confirmed with a nod.  

“More than happy with this decision.” Her confirmation was delivered with the kind of kisses that made his pulse flip madly, Angel not able to remember a time when he’d been so attracted to someone. It wasn’t just that she was gorgeous either, it was her, all of her. She was smart, talented, funny, and so, so gentle and sweet. He was also revelling in the novelty that as a completely smoking hot eighteen-year-old, she could have any guy she wanted, and she’d seen him and thought ‘yep, that one.’ It wasn’t without its charm.  

The two hours passed much too quickly, Bella feeling a little sad pit in her stomach as the cab pulled up, standing in his arms, kissing him goodbye.  

“You might have to take me with you, because I totally don’t wanna let you go,” he confessed, actually poking out his bottom lip and looking utterly adorable, Bella returning such, making him melt completely. Oh, she was too cute!  

“I don’t want to leave you, either!” she exclaimed, quickly calling to the cab driver that she’d be a couple of minutes, the friendly man replying with ‘okay, darling’ before she turned back to the man she was very reluctant to let go of.  

“We could remedy this, you know,” he began. “I could give the driver my address instead, and you come stay at my place, blow off college tomorrow, or I’ll take you back there early in the morning, if you want?”  

“Erm...” she began, knowing the connotations. She shook her head. “I think I know exactly why you’re asking me back to your place, and it isn’t going to happen. Not this soon anyway.”  

He shrugged. “I can keep my hands to myself.” 

“Yeah, but maybe I can’t. I’m not easy, but with you, bloody hell. I could be, and I’m not screwing it all up by having sex with you right away,” she confessed, Angel respecting her decision. Albeit somewhat begrudgingly. He then realised, though, that such a stance made her very, very different to just about any other woman he’d encountered in recent years, all of them ready to jump into bed with him right away. God. It only made him like her more.  

“No worries, baby. You free this weekend? I’d love to see you again,” he asked, his fingers stroking her lower back in a way that made her tingle all over.  

“Not until Sunday, I’m afraid,” she lamented. “I have rehearsal on Friday night, then on Saturday I’m at work in the day, then on the evening we’re playing a little show at a bar not far from where I live, but yeah, Sunday daytime I can be all yours?” Ahh, yes. Sadly, Saturday daytime was out of bounds for her, Angel remembering her briefly detailing her job as a hair washing girl at a salon close to where she lived in La Jolla.  

“Then I’ll call you on Sunday morning to arrange something. Text me when you get home, alright?”  

She leaned in for another kiss, drinking him in, her heart fluttering madly. “Will do. Thanks for a great night.”  

Getting into the cab, she could barely wait for Sunday, grinning like an idiot for the entire duration of the ride home. He was the first guy in a long time who she really, really liked. In fact, she’d never felt like that before at all, she realised, replaying moments from their date in her head all the way home. 

She was smitten.   

As for Angel, he felt much the same, so much so that after discovering the name of the bar Heavenly Creature were playing at that coming Saturday, he planned to pay her a surprise visit.  

Bella almost felt her heart somersault out of her chest when after taking to the stage, she picked him out in the crowd. She realised then that he was just as into her as she was him, and that? That felt wonderful.  

[wordtowords]

The Cell Phone as a Saboteur of Your Love Life

saboteur - noun - something or someone that destroys, damages, or obstructs (Google)

For whatever reason, lately, I've become a sounding board for male friends who would like to be in romantic relationships but who don't quite understand that in order to receive, you have to give. And when it comes to women, you have to give a lot–in particular–of your time. However, being that most of us women understand that time is becoming more and more invaluable, maybe more than anything, what we just need, desire, crave is your undivided attention, which need not take up much time. As so many men (and women) are addicted to their cell phones, what used to be so easy to impart (general, polite consideration in the moment) is no longer. In fact, a cell phone can be a downright saboteur of your love life, if you allow it to be.

Case in point #1: Jack: Several years ago, I made the mistake of making a lover out of a perfectly decent platonic friend, an attractive real estate broker, who is thoroughly, utterly, completely devoted to his two manipulative adult daughters. For my birthday, he borrowed a client's capacious home and went to extremes to prove his passionate love for me by reimagining the living room. Romantically minded, he made the effort to include two chairs, a bistro table complete with a white linen tablecloth, polished silver, champagne glasses (as well as champagne), candles, a lit fireplace...you get the picture. Just after we sat down to enjoy a gourmet dinner that he had prepared himself, his smart phone rang. On the other end was one of his daughters. Rather than say, "I'll call her back later," put the phone on airplane mode, and pocket it, he took the call. His daughter was filling out an insurance form and needed his undivided attention immediately. Unfortunately, so did I. Guess who got it? To make a long story short, the following week, I broke up with him. Are you surprised? He was. Clueless, just clueless.

Case in point #2: Jim: Jim is a platonic male friend, whom I most surely will keep as one. The reason is this: He is yet another clueless one when it comes to women and their needs. Sympathetic toward the plight of persons of my gender, I'm sticking around to advise him so that perhaps someday he'll obtain what he wants: a female, romantic counterpart. Jim's main problem is that he allows his ex-wife (and his two teenagers) to dominate his life via the airspace in his free time. Ergo, any girlfriend would have to be comfortable with being in fourth place. And guess what? No self-respecting woman would. His cell phone (with his permission, of course) already sabotaged two romantic relationships. How? Apparently, his ex-wife, who still wears the riding pants and holds the crop and reins, always calls him demanding an audience at the wrong moments, and he takes the calls or reads and responds to her texts. On two separate occasions after putting his dates on hold and speaking to his ex on his smart phone, both prospective paramours flipped him off and are no longer talking to him. Yet can you blame them?

What good advice have I to give to these men and to you?  If you want to keep a woman (or a man, because it goes both ways), put down, shut off, leave home your cell phone. It and all of the people trying to get in touch with you are not going to get you a roll in the feathers. The women (or men) with whom you are in love or want to be in love need to know that you intend to put them first because they should be first–not second, not third, not fourth, etc. If you can't accomplish this feat, then you'll just have to be content spending time with your kids and your ex-spouse or any other iteration of "ex."

While you're thinking about this, I'll leave you with the Stones: "You can't always get what you want, but if you try sometimes, you might just get what you need."

#word-to-words, #slice-of-life,  #blog, #blogging, #editorial, #reading, #vocabulary, #ReadersMagnet, #spilled thoughts, #good advice, #personal-essay, #writing community, #writing

[evilwickedme]

ok so to sum up my feelings for leverage: redemption, season 1(a): (long post warning, there’s a tl;dr at the end)

I knew that Hardison wouldn’t be in most of the season due to Aldis Hodge being a busy bee nowadays, but I didn’t realize that meant he’d only be around for the first two episodes. He was sorely missed, not only because of my attachment to him, but also because he’s usually the grounding factor in the group dynamic, and his role as info guy and tech guy was split evenly between two characters who had their own issues.

That said, Hardison is absolutely a highlight of the two episodes he’s in. his speech about redemption was everything I could’ve hoped for (plus, more evidence for the Jewish!Hardison pile...). I wish we’d gotten to see more of his dynamic with Breanna because what we saw was funny and sweet and we don’t generally get to see Hardison taking care of somebody who so desperately needs taking care of. I hope that Aldis Hodge is around for more episodes in 1(b), because what we’re left with feels a little hollow.

Sticking to original leverage characters for now, for the most part the leverage crew still felt true to the original series as characters, even if the show itself was a little bit confused at times. The actors understand their characters and embody them so well that I think one could give them the trashiest script ever and they’d still sell it. Sophie is a particular focus in 1(a) because of Nate’s death, and she’s particularly well written as a result.

That said, I’m super bitter that we saw little to no mastermind!Parker. Parker’s character being given the mastermind role was a big deal and it feels like they’re walking it back because they feel uncomfortable with it. It is eventually given an in-text excuse, but literally in the last episode, and it was not a particularly convincing reason, and in fact contradicted moments from previous episodes (Sophie leaving for a client meeting and ignoring Parker in ep3 comes to mind). It’s frustrating, it makes the end of the original leverage feel pointless, and letting Parker make a decision once in a while is not the same thing at all. The original series repeatedly showed us that while everyone in the team had their strengths, Parker works problems and solves them in unique, interesting ways, and other characters’ days in the limelight tended to be comedic or even failures. It’s a broken promise, and a pretty major broken promise at that.

On a more positive note, Parker’s dynamic with literally everyone was fantastic. She’s possibly the best written character this season. They’ve taken the autism out of the subtext and into the text (although obviously still undiagnosed), and given her coping mechanisms that were taken seriously in the text even when they were played for laughs, which I appreciated. Her attempts to mentor Breanna were sweet, her friendship with Sophie was electric and at times (CRIMES) hilarious, and as usual, she has a fantastic dynamic with Eliot that makes my heart burst. If you don’t think they’re romantically involved, at least acknowledge there’s a life partnership here. They’ve spent the last decade together.

(We’ll get to Harry.)

Eliot isn’t given much arc-wise, which is frustrating since he’s my favorite. He’s being presented as the goal at the end of a redemption arc, ie to keep working at it every day until your soul heals or whatever, and it doesn’t reflect the message they’re trying to convey via Hardison’s speech and our two new characters. He’s got his moments, but I think they under utilized his potential.

Breanna!!! Breanna’s my new favorite, except for Eliot. She’s hilarious, she’s insecure, she’s nerdy and excited in a way that’s similar to Hardison but still distinct in its inherent teenage-girl-ness and I LOVE IT. Unlike the previous series, where Hardison’s “age of the geek” was often a joke played on Hardison, we’re at the point where Eliot and Parker are both right there with him, and so they accept and even appreciate Breanna’s nerdiness. Also, canon gay character? In YOUR Leverage? It’s more likely than you think.

(No, I never thought they’d make ot3 canon on screen. I hoped, but I didn’t think it would actually happen.)

I think Breanna’s the character that will be the most interesting to see grow. She’s got a lot of potential and a list of crimes a mile long (or more). I adore her with all my heart. I want to see her tiktok account.

Harry. Oh, Harry.

It took me a while, but I do like Harry. It took a while, because the narrative positioned him at the same level as Nate back in episode 1 of original Leverage. But in episode 1 we didn’t know the other characters. We had Nate as the POV character, and so we cared about him because we were seeing the world through his eyes. (This is TV Studies 101. I know this, because I took TV Studies 101 in 2019.) In Leverage: Redemption, we no longer have a POV character, for several reasons:

Nate, previously the POV character, is dead.

As it is, by mid-season 3 of leverage Nate was no longer a POV character. This is, coincidentally, the point where the leverage writers realized they had four other characters in the main cast they could do something with, and in-universe, Nate accepted that he was a thief, not a special Good Man.

Sophie is sort of a POV character for the first episode of the revival, but only for the first few minutes. Afterwards, the series settles into the groove of seasons 3-5, i.e., the entire crew is our POV. We know our crew, and we love them as is.

Narratively, however, Redemption insists on positing Harry as the POV character, because it is his redemption we are pursuing most vehemently. And I think they really relied on us already knowing the actor - I’ve never seen him in anything before, so to me he was a completely fresh face and they put almost no effort into selling him to me. Beyond being competent and consistently mildly baffled by the antics of the leverage crew, I honestly don’t know who this man is by the end of EIGHT episodes with him. I have a much better handle on Breanna by the end of 1(a), and I can tell you I knew all five of the original leverage crew better by the end of the first episode of the original series than I do Harry. What’s the name of his daughter, John Rogers. Is he still married. How old is the daughter. Why is none of this worth mentioning. Give him a sense of humor that isn’t reacting to other people’s shenanigans. I’m so frustrated. It’s bad writing.

I did manage to grow to like Harry by the end, but I’m pretty sure this is down to Noah Wyle’s charismatic portrayal of an under-developed character, at least partially. And I never stopped being frustrated at not knowing who this man is at all.

The two highlights of the season are undoubtedly episodes five and six. Episode five was the first time I felt like the episode was more than a collection of good moments between the main cast and mediocre moments between the main cast and also the main plot. The issues with pacing and tone that I suffered through for most of the season were mostly non-existent in ep5 and 6, and at least in episode 5 I attribute that to the pared down cast. They had time to focus not only on our actual characters - Sophie, Parker, Breanna - but also on the case. This is the only client from 1(a) I am going to remember next week without googling it first, mark my words.

Episode six worked for the exact opposite reason - it completely disregarded the client and plot and immersed itself in the characters. Breanna gets a moment to shine, but everybody else gets their bits and I wouldn’t be surprised if that was the script that was most fun to write. The characters felt natural, real, and captured the found-family dynamic that’s been missing all season for the first time.

While episode 2 is the weakest episode, I don’t actually have much to say about it. I am disappointed in episode 8. For a mid-season finale, I really expected them to do something. Instead, it was an episode about Nate Ford that copped out of being about Nate Ford (both with fake-Nate and with the new version of him being relayed to us). I would have told the writers to give that energy back to episode 1 and write an episode that’s about anybody who isn’t Harry, oh my God. I know I said I grew to like him but so many episodes were about Harry. He’s the newbie! Why didn’t Hardison get an episode that was actually about him, considering he was only around for two episodes? Why does Eliot have to be the butt of the joke when the theme of the series should directly tie back to him in a much more meaningful way? The last episode parodies their own tagline by saying Eliot isn’t just a hitter, but it deftly avoids noticing that they’ve turned him into nothing more than very muscly comic relief, including in that very episode!

Also, I hated the Marshal. Eliot actively looked uncomfortable around her.

tl;dr

The season took a while, that’s definitely true. But it did find its footing eventually, and by the halfway mark of 1(a) it finally felt cohesive again. The characters were played fantastically even when they weren’t well-written, and if nothing else, the humor landed every time. It still has its kinks and problems to work out, but if you look at it as a brand new show rather than a continuation of one that went off the air over eight years ago, it’s actually doing rather well. I’m choosing to judge it in both lights - according to its own standards, it establishes its identity in episode five; according to Leverage standards, it establishes its connection to its roots in episode six. Either way, I thoroughly enjoyed 1(a), and continue to have high hopes for 1(b).

fic writing will commence in three, two, one...

[popculturebuffet]

Uncle Scrooge by Don Rosa:  The Isle at the Edge of Time (Thank You Comission For Rosie Isla)

Hello all you happy people! Today’s review is a bit special as it’s the result of another review. See I had trouble finding a translation of the subject of last weeks’ mother’s day special, Family Ties. 

No not that one. I have Paramount+. I can watch all the Family Ties I want and that’s a fact that i’m pleased as punch about. 

No it was the story 80 is Prachtig, called Family Ties in the copy used, Della’s first major comics appearance and one that explains what happened to her in the classic continuity, one that clearly served as the foundation for her far more fleshed out 2017 versions personality and backstory. It also had Pinocchio in it for some reason, and spent most of it’s large run time on a meta comedy plot that had nothing to do with the reason anyone wanted to read this story in the first place.

But despite being a vitally important story, it never got an english translation, something that baffled me till I read the story and found cameos of the racist indigenous stereotypes from Peter Pan. In 2014. You may commence booing. Even with how weird the story was I simply couldn’t find the story googling it and the Della tag is too vast and deep to go spelunking in.

So what’s all this have to do? Simple I put out a post last month when neither I nor Kev, who wanted to comission it as part of Moons, Millionares and Mothers, my coverage of all three season 2 Ducktales story arcs, could find a copy and offered a review to whoever found it.  Weeks passed I got nothing.. then in the 11th hour I got a break as the lovely @rosieisla​ found a translation that was on this very site, one she seemed to have helped with. As a result I could do the review and as a man of my word, offered it up despite her clearly having not seen that part of the post and simply having done this to be nice. Still she gladly took up the offer and offered me my pick of two stories: The Carl Barks Story Back to Long Ago or this one. 

As for WHY I picked this one Back To Long Ago didn’t seem bad, i’m just not a fan of “The Cast is put in the past as their own ancestors” type deals. Or in some cases put the cast as people from that time period. It’s just not for me and is most often done in TV where it can get really goofy, Beverly Hills 90210 being a prime example of this, though Girl Meets World was no slouch in being embarassing... that being said I really need to finish that show and miss it. 

So yeah when put up against a story with two intresting hooks and FLINTHEART GLOMGOLD, even if i’ts not the version that’s my boy, it was no contest. So what are these hooks you ask? Well join me under the cut and find out. 

We open with a weird stylistic choice: This story has a narrator complete with caption boxes. Now for those of you familiar with comics or pastiches of comics in tv and film, this probably dosen’t seem like a big deal. It was a common thing in comics from their inception to 90′s to have caption boxes, big boxes of text narrating the action to help move things along faster. It did start to fade out by the 80′s and was gone by the end of the 90′s for the most part, replaced instead with first person narration. It’s the kind of thing you’d see most often in the Golden and Silver Ages, with stuff like tihs

It’s not a BAD device, it’s good old cheesy and bombastic fun and some writers did get clever with it.. like that time Chris Claremont used the narration to yell at a greiving cyclops after he lost a teammate early in his long and storied run on the uncanny x-men. 

This is a objectively weird scene that’s still somehow effective by the by. On the one hand it does come off as Chris Claremont essentally bullying Cyclops who already feels guilty for a death that was not in fact his fault as Thunderbird was told the plane he was attacking with fleeing villian Count Nefaria was about to explode and refused to listen.. and that they needed to get rid of either him or Wolverine as both served the same purpose and chose the non-white guy. 

On the other htough it comes off just as much as Scott beating himself up in his grief and anger over the event and his perceived failings as a leader. It’s good stuff and shows why this run caught on as this was only three issues in. Also the rest of the issue features the X-Men fighting a giant cyclopian demon that Cyclops accidently freed in his rage by destroying the stone thing keeping him imprisoned. No really here’s the cover

Huh so tha’ts what Nifty’s dad looks like. Neat. Also I REALLY hope we get the X-Men fighting aliens or demons in the MCU. Unlike the XCU the MCU isn’t alergic to getting batshit.. and for the record Deadpool and New Mutants are the exception, not the rule.

My point that I swear I do have is that this was common practice for most comics.. but never really for Disney Duck comics. It popped up ocasionally, like with Scrooge’s introduction, but Barks and those after him never really used them that much. Sure they’d have caption boxes for flasbacks and what not but Barks and Co geninely only used this sort of thing to set up a story. The most i’ve seen it in a duck comic is life and times and even then i’ts usually only used for gags or to set up the passage of time, as the story IS covering decades and thus often needed to have montages to show time passing, and in the case of chapter 11, had to cover decades in the span of a single chapter, so it’s not like they had many other options. So even Rosa as a personal quirk didn’t really use these often. 

Rosa used this specifically because he felt the plot was complicated by the use of the international date line. As for what it is, it’s essentially a line marking calender dates from one side of the hemisphere to the others. To use the offical defentition from the National Ocean Service I found via a quick google:

“The International Date Line, established in 1884, passes through the mid-Pacific Ocean and roughly follows a 180 degrees longitude north-south line on the Earth. It is located halfway round the world from the prime meridian—the zero degrees longitude established in Greenwich, England, in 1852.

The International Date Line functions as a “line of demarcation” separating two consecutive calendar dates. When you cross the date line, you become a time traveler of sorts! Cross to the west and it’s one day later; cross back and you’ve “gone back in time."

Despite its name, the International Date Line has no legal international status and countries are free to choose the dates that they observe. While the date line generally runs north to south from pole to pole, it zigzags around political borders such as eastern Russia and Alaska’s Aleutian Islands.”

Rosa felt this made the story complicated.... and that... really isn’t remotely true. The narration is mostly used for gagas and really dosen’t clarify anything. it’s mostly used well in the opening.. but the actual explinations for the date line are clear enough in the story that even if I hadn’t looked the thing up, I still would’ve got it and i’m sure a kid would’ve too. It just feels like a weird thing to ruminate on, especially because he’s got actual things to make up for: while to his credit the native american characters he cribbed from carl barks are sympathetic, their culture respected and treated decently and used for a green aseop, their dialouge is stitled and sterotypical something he dosen’t even comment on (And these trades ewren’t THAT long ago) 

And of course it dosen’t help that he dosen’t even comment on using a common device in american superhero boooks.. in the same volume where he ONCE again makes an unwanted and outdated diatribe about superhero comics. I’ll probably cover the Super Snooper Strikes again so I can throughly tear this apart but higlights include: Calling superhero comics “Unwanted” just because he dosen’t like them personally, when people like me would disagree and they’ve lasted through a LOT of highs and lows, outdately saying they took over the American market as the only suitable comics which while true for a TIME,but by 2015 when this book was printed is laughably out of date, as non superhero works like The Walking Dead, Saga, and Scott Pilgrim were massively popular, one of my faviorite comics that is entirely slice of life and would go on to bea huge hit, Giant Days, re-debuted that very year. He also has the fucking gal to insult The Uncanny X-Men by name and I swear to god I did not know this when I made those references earlier, but as you probably guessed REALLY god me livid. 

And this is just on his COMMENTS on the story I can’t imagine just how bad the content itself is and having read the first few pages which come off as Rosa using Donald to essentially do an “old man yells at cloud rant” about superhero comics, I really don’t want to. Might make htis a patreon exclusive or again would do it on comissoin. You all make the call.... the point is I don’t likes his elitist bullshit about superhero comics, and this is clearly something that gets my hackles up as I just spent a good two paragraphs of an entirely unrealted review yelling at the guy for it. I don’t like when he does this and this authors notes entirley felt like an excuse. I GET the dark age of comics were bad, they REALLY were that bad, but I will NEVER accept painting an enitre genre as bad just because one work in it is bad. And I wont accept it from someone who himself writes about an often throughly unlikeable anti-hero for a living.  Scrooge may not have a gun on his gun on his gun or get to stabbing or have pouches, but he DOES finacially abuse his nephew, scoff at people’s personal troubles, and often refuse to use his wealth to help others in general. So yeah in conclusion Rosa really needs to say less about this subject. 

Okay so where were we.. right the story hadn’t even started yet. Jesus. 

Okay so our story begins with the narrator. Whose going on about time and what not. The main point of this speech about time is that it’s night in Duckburg and Scrooge is going to bed as, even being the workhorse that he is, he can’t keep going 24 hours. While he’s snoozing though something major happens and it’s the hook that made me pick this story along with the international dateline one.. an island rises thanks to volcanic erruption.. and the lava is GOLD. That’s just pure unabashed classic Duck Stuff: a mysterious treasure or phenominon of gold bound to bring scrooge in. 

But Scrooge isn’t stupid: the sun comes up and the world still spins while he sleeps, so he set up a satalite to monitor for this sort of thing. The thing naturally goes nuts.. and even more naturally breaks down becasue Scrooge bought cheap parts. A nice gag and a fully in character way to bring our antagonist into the picture, as the Satellite of Loaded falls in the middle of South Africa... right on the property of my boy Flintheart Glomgold. 

This is something Rosa brought up in his commentary for the story i’d never thought about. It turns out Glomgold being a citzen of Duckburg WASN’T an invention of the original Ducktales but the comics: some overseas had understandably moved him from his home country of South Africa. Him bieing in the same town as Scrooge instead of half a world away allows for easier setups and more intresting ones.

Rosa however being obdient to Barks Version of things, ketp Glomgold in South Africa like barks did, which was an .. ifffy decision given Apartheid had JUST ended at the time of this story. Not so much in the reboot as not only had apartheid been long gone by the time of the reboot, but that’s more fair. Still we do get some gorgeous vistas as a result as Glomgold’s minon goes to look at it and finds it’s from McDuck Mining company... Glomgold’s reaction is obvious. 

So on that note we cut to Scrooge rushing to Donalds house and forcing him awake and not telling him anything at first. Look his Ducktales Counterpart straight up kidnapped his donald in my last review, I’d call this a win. He also tries to dress Donald while explaning both his panic to find the crashed satlitle and what it found: the golden island. The end result of him dressing donald is worth a chuckle

So after Donald puts his shirt and little hat on our heroes get rollin rollin rollin what keep rollin rollin rollin who to Manilla. On the plane we get the scene I mentioned: The boys make a quip about Scrooge having lost a day and the group go over the international date line. It’s a fun little scene especially Donald trying to get paid early at the end. Classic scrooge and donald stuff without the abusive undertones some of their classic stuff has. 

Meanwhile Glomgold works out the data and finds out about the gold island, and his excitement accidently wakes a giraffe outside.. welll it was nice knowing him, Giraffes are the deadliest species known to man.. here’s an educational video t back that up....

So at Manilla Airport, Scrooge finds out abotu the south african crash, figuring he’ll get a laugh out of glomgold being there ... only for Donald to spot the Jet. Scrooge figures this can’t be anything good... now come on man maybe he’s just promoting his energy drink. 

As super sayin god super sayian as my witness, I will never get tired of Ultra Instinct Glomgold here. 

Scrooge isn’t so nice about that though and figures he better find out if Glomgold knows about the island and bribes one of the fueling crew for his uniform. He sucesssfully eavesdrops on Glomgold talking to his pilot, finding out from him exactly WHERE the island is. He ends up hilariously botching the mission though: when getting ready to leave Glomgold complains abotu the price of gas and that naturally causes Scrooge, just as cheap, to join in... and Glomgold to find out it’s Scrooge. The two wrestle outside the plane but before this can progress to a game of Naked Robber an airport security guy comes up and Scrooge cleverly claims that Glomgold’s plane has an infestiation, requring it to be quanrantined and allowing Scrooge to jet on.. thoguh not with an actual jet. With Glomgold seemingly dispatched, he can afford to save some money and take his time with a seaplane and I know just the man for the job. 

Oh nope looks like he’s busy. So one time related rambles later we meet Keoki, their asian pilot from the tiny island of Wookawooka.. and no that’s not a real place i checked... and no Fozzy dosen’t own it his check bounced. That being said it is a very well done represntation of someone from a smaller country: he’s doing this job to try and bring money back home, but being a seaplane captain just isn’t enough and his island is dying. Scrooge naturally is about as sympathetic as you’d expect, having apparently never even heard of the idea of a bonus when Huey, Dewey or Louie suggests it. 

Even less suprising is that Glomgold streaks by in his Jet:turns out Manilla was already overun with the bugs Scrooge claimed and Donald rubs it in that had Scrooge got a JET this wouldn’t of been an issue. 

So Glomgold easily beats them there, and to add insult and actualy injury to a cash based one, our heroes get blasted by golden lava on the way in and crash. Should’ve gotten launchpad... got the crashing professional. Keoki is dispondent as this means his people are doomed. He also dosen’t know waht staking a claim is when Scrooge mentions it and the boys bring him up to speed with the poor guy saying he wish he could for WookaWooka. Donald also makes a valid point about how greedy and heartlress scrooge can be.. and really billiionares in general.

No no YOUR the Grouch who refuses to have one drop of emapthy. Donald’s just pissed at your general selfish and terrible behavior. 

Glomgold glomgloats and has seemingly won... but naturally that rant that seemed extranious at the time about the date line comes into play: turns out the Island is on it, and since glomgold put his marker int he west, Scrooge simply puts his in the east which is a whole day before. Now GRANTED there’s nor eal legal prescendice for the intetaoinal date line itself , as noted above... but there’s enough witnesses in Scrooge’s favor that it simply does not matter anyway. Scrooge SEEMINGLY wins.

But Huey, Dewey Or Louie instead backs another claim: Keoki’s from earlier. While it was made in gest, he and the others along with Donald back it as witnsses instad. WookaWooka is saved and SCrogoe ends the story yelling at the narrator.

Final Thoughts: Don Rosa.. did not like this story, feeling it wasn’t one of his best and apologizing for it. I however.. really loved it. It’s not PERFECT: the narration feels not entirely necessary and the gag isn’t as funny as he thinks, though the payoff of scrooge saying “it’s time for this story to end” is fucking hilarous. I also feel it’s a bit too compressed: the story is only 16 pages and was only THAT long because Rosa added a few for exposition, a worthy addition. This feels like one of his 30 page adventure stories but slightly crammed into half the length. I also feel the golden island bit was BADLY underused as it’s such a cool setting but barely shows up in the story. 

But despite that.. it’s still a fun story: as is standard for Rosa the art is gorgeous and the humor is great. And unlike some stories where Rosa casually ignores how terrible scrooge is, here it’s his own greed and hubris that do him in: had he actually agreed to help Keoki, the boys likey would’ve let him keep the island but his own cold refusual to be a human being does him in, just as his cheapness nearly did. Flintheart is also decent here.. not the deepest foe but frankly most classical duck antagonists really aren’t all that fleshed out, and we still get some good bits with him. The dateline bit, while telegraphing that it will be important, as I said REALLY isn’t that hard to understand. All in all while i’ll agree with Rosa this isn’t his BEST, it’s still a really damn good story and one he shoudln’t be ashamed of. 

Tommorow: Green Eggs and ham is back for some train shenanigans! Kay. 

Saturday: The Tom Retrospective returns for it’s last detour! Eclipsa and Moon team up to stop meteora but grapple with diffrent wants: One to save her daughter.. the other to stop waht she clearly sees as an out of control monster. The result.. will only lead to tragedy and a hell of a two parter. 

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But if you go up to 5 you get a guaranteed review of whatever you want every month, and will get me to my next milestone, which will give everyone including yourself a monthly public darkwing duck review, reviews of the two Ducktales minis’ I haven’t covered (Time is Money and SuperDuckTales) and a reivew of the Danny Phantom film the Ultimate Enemy. So please join today and if you cannot, like this review, subscribe and give me your opinions on it bellow. Or even if you can feedback is always appricated and I will see you at the next rainbow. 

[unexpected-nightview]

Spoiler-ish (technically the screenwriter backtracking and trying to fix that clownery)

Okay just to keep track of everything : post by the screenwriter + pic with translation about said post + translated text (via google bc I don’t speak chinese...) + original text all under the cut.

1)Translation 

"Hate Your Lord Is Not Like Jiang Lou Yue" Finale 37-1 At the entrance of Yuzhitang Jiang Yuelou stands on the opposite side of the street, going back and forth across the street The flow of people and the glass windows of Yu Zhitang, watching the glass After Chen Yuzhi, the corners of his mouth rose unconsciously. 37-2 Within days of Yu Zhitang Chen Yuzhi packed the things on the table, ready to hit kind. Chen Yuzhi noticed a scorching gaze, Lifting his gaze, it was Jiangyue Tower. Jiang Yuelou raised an eyebrow at him triumphantly and gave him one Bright laugh. Chen Yuzhi smiled back and took off the white The lab coat, walked towards the door. 37-3 Outside the entrance of Yuzhitang Chen Yuzhi locked the door, Jiang Yuelou crossed the street Come. Chen Yuzhi; Didn't you say that the police station was handed over in the morning? Do you have a lot of work and are you busy? Jiang Yuelou: No matter how busy you are, you have to eat. Besides, Today's special day, Lantern Festival, not with me Over? Chen Yuzhi turned around and smiled gently: OK, together Over. 37-4 Jingcheng Street Niwai Jiang Yuelou and Chen Yuzhi walked along the street, talking and laughing With. The people on both sides of the street, some are cooking, some Playing chess, some are drinking tea, and some are living and working in peace and contentment. Look like. Jiang Yuelou and Chen Yuzhi comforted and looked at each other laugh. Jiang Yuelou: Our efforts were not in vain, they Finally can live a stable life. Chen Yuzhi: Yeah, finally, everything is worth it From time to time, someone greeted the two. Passerby: Doctor Chen! Passer-by: Section Chief Jiang! Jiang Yuelou and Chen Yuzhi nodded in response with a smile. Passers-by greeted warmly: Chief Jiang, come to the house for soup Round, we made it ourselves, don't dislike it. Jiang Yuelou laughed: No, we are also going to go back do. Chen Yuzhi was stunned, and after passers-by walked away, he asked: Are you planning to do it yourself? Jiang Yuelou; otherwise? Chen Yuzhi: I thought you meant to go to the house at the door Kunton stalls, her family will cook some glutinous rice balls every day Applicable. Jiangyuelou: Do it yourself, it has a special flavor. Smile of Chen Yuzhi: Okay, listen to you. The two talked and laughed and walked. Not far ahead, A man in a rickshaw driver's clothes raised his eyes slightly The line turned out to be Zhan Junbai who escaped from the dead. Zhan Junbai raised his gaze and looked at it with hatred. From a subjective perspective, Jiang Yuelou and Chen Yuzhi are getting closer Up. Jiang Yuelou and Chen Yuzhi didn't realize it was coming Danger, chatting. Jiang Yuelou: It’s been a long time since I rode a horse. This weekend, Go for horse racing? Chen Yuzhixiao: This time, I will definitely beat you. Jiang Yuelou is full of confidence: give it a try. While they were talking, the two had already arrived in front of Zhan Junbai. Zhan Junbai suddenly held a gun and shot at Jiangyuelou. He It is the one that was given to Yutangchun and then returned The gun in his own hand. Chen Yuzhi didn't hesitate to rush to block Jiangyue Tower In front of him, the bullet shot into Chen Yuzhi's heart. Jiangyuelou Want to block the future. Jiang Yuelou's unbelievable look, hold it fast with one hand Chen Yuzhi, who was about to fall, drew his spear without hesitation and charged Zhuan Junbai shot. The people scattered and fled. Zhan Junbai was shot, his body was shocked, crazy and terrifying Smiling and falling to the ground, he looked at Jiang Yuelou proudly. He felt no physical pain, he was immersed in revenge In pleasure. A string of beads on his hand broke and fell The ground, scattered around, that is Yutangchun's hand when he was alive Beaded. Zhan Jun white grinning smile: Jiang Yuelou, what I lost, you I can't get it either. He died, more painful than your death Right? Jiang Yuelou didn't care about Zhanjun Bai, nervously Pulling off Chen Yuzhi's jacket, he saw the bullet shooting through the inside The armor is almost penetrated, severely changed Fortunately, it did not hurt the body. Jiang Yuelou is anxious and worried: how are you, where did you hurt Is it there? Chen Yuzhi patted Jiang Yuelou's hand comfortably: I didn't thing. Jiang Yuelou annoyed Chen Yu's eyes: Both of us Go back and calculate! Zhan Junbai saw that Chen Yuzhi was not injured, and he was shocked. Unbelievable look; how is this possible?! Jiang Yuelou turned and walked towards Zhan Junbai, staring at him He: I've already gotten it right, you won't let it go, from I have been waiting since the day you fled, waiting for you come back. As Jiang Yuelou said, he opened his coat, and he did it too Protection: Zhan Junbai, I am different from you, you lose Go, I will never lose. Jiang Yuelou said, glanced at Chen Yuzhi, the two were right Depending on. Zhan Junbai was defeated and looked desperate. Jiang Yuelou raised his gun again, preparing to end Zhanjun White. Zhan Junbai moved his eyes from Jiangyue Tower to Chen Yuzhi, supporting With one last breath: Dr. Chen, can Can't help me Busy? Chen Yuzhi looked at him coldly: I won't help you intercede Yes, you deserve it. Zhan Junbai; it's not this busy...cough cough... Zhan Jun white mouth and more and more blood surges in the wound Out, dyed red beads scattered on the ground, like red beans. Zhan Junbai: Help me and him, be buried together... Chen Yuzhi's accident: You didn't sink him into the crab pond? Zhan Junbai smiled: I really sink him, how can I give up Got. If you don't say this, how can you hold the following people. Jiang Yuelou and Chen Yuzhi looked at each other, Chen Yuzhibai Mixed feelings. Chen Yuzhi: Where is he buried? Zhan Junbai; Chengdong. Xinglinli. Chen Yuzhi remembered Yutangchun telling that he liked it before he was alive Xinglin in the east of the city, I want to survive the spring and be buried in Xinglin One scene. Zhan Junbai; help me, okay... Chen Yuzhi shook his head: He was tortured because of you during his lifetime. After death, I definitely don’t want to have anything with you Ge. The only pleading look in Zhan Junbai's life; please You... Dr. Chen, please... Chen Yuzhi did not hesitate, turned and walked towards Jiang Yue floor. Jiang Yuelou raised the muzzle and ended Zhan Junbai's Raw. The picture is getting darker. 37-5 Jiangyuelou's home at night The door opened, Jiang Yuelou and Chen Yuzhi came in. Jiang Yuelou's complexion is not very good, he is angry, heavy Sitting on the sofa. Chen Yuzhi was a little guilty, took off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves Zi: What about making glutinous rice balls? I'll prepare them. Jiang Yuelou stared at him, did not speak, his eyes followed Chen I walked around. Chen Yuzhi looked back: Don't do it now? Jiang Yuelou got up and strode towards Chen Yuzhi: What to do What do you do, settle the account! Chen Yuzhi: I was not injured... Jiang Yuelou is angry; this is a fluke, what if?! Me The armor is prepared for you to protect yourself, not for Let you save people! Chen Yuzhi: But that's you... Jiang Yuelou is fierce: No one can do it! Besides, I'm not without it, I need you to rush out to protect me Did you know that I was almost scared to death.. Chen Yuzhi: Sorry, I was in a hurry, I forgot Up. Jiang Yuelou was stunned: Did you forget about the armor? Chen Yuzhi: It was too late to think too much... Jiang Yuelou suddenly felt very heartfelt, touched and touched. Fear, his fierce face instantly softened, and he raised his hand Gave Chen Yuzhi a deep hug. Jiang Yuelou whispered: Yu Zhi, in my life, I don't Fortunately...but how lucky it is to meet you. Chen Yuzhi responded in a low voice: Me too, Yuelou. How lucky to meet you... For a moment, Jiang Yuelou let go and pushed Chen Yuzhi towards kitchen. Chen Yuzhi: What? Jiang Yuelou: Make glutinous rice balls! 37-6 black screen subtitles: one year later 37-7 A small courtyard in a countryside day (faint) inside/outside The dusk is groggy. With the door open, you can see that Chen Keying is holding a small Play freely in the hall. In the courtyard, Jiang Yuelou and Chen Yuzhi are sitting on a stone table before. There are some dried herbs on the table, Chen Yuzhi Pulling herbs. Jiang Yuelou held a newspaper in her hand, Newspaper headlines, Jin Dacheng became director, Jing Chengtai level. Jiang Yuelou smiled, put down the newspaper, picked up the tea cup, Make tea comfortably. Jiang Yuelou took a sip of hot tea and looked at Chen Yu Zhi: Alright, it's been an afternoon, and tomorrow Chen Yuzhi laughs: a few days later is the rainy season, so you have to take advantage of the sky Okay, just dry it thoroughly. Jiang Yuelou handed a cup of hot tea: no hurry at this time and a half Engrave, take a sip of tea slowly. Chen Yuzhi raised his hand to indicate, his slender fingers were touched Herb sap stained with emerald color. Jiang Yuelou simply handed the cup over, Chen Yuzhi low Head, took a few sips of water with Jiang Yuelou's hand. Jiang Yuelou: I have found the location of the clinic, what do I need Please leave the list empty, let's go buy it together. Chen Yuzhi raised his head and looked at Jiang Yuelou, making a cunning point Laughter: Everything else is easy to say, there is only one thing, I'm afraid it is It's not easy to buy. Jiang Yuelou: What is it? Come and listen. Chen Yuzhi: The original Yuzhitang plaque is pretty good Yes, it's a pity that I forgot to bring it when I moved. Jiang Yuelou: This is easy to handle, I will solve it. Chen Yuzhi laughed: What, the engraver of Yuelou, once Is it ripe for the second time? Jiang Yuelou froze for a while, reacted, you all know Up? Chen Yuzhi: Yes. Jiang Yuelou: When did it happen? Smile of Chen Yu: Secret. Jiang Yuelou raised her eyebrows: Secret? Then don't blame me Up. Jiang Yuelou said, got up, went to the hut and dragged out A plaque, carefully wrapped in cloth, Jiangyue Tower Raise your hand, the cloth flutters, revealing Yu Zhitang below Plaque. Chen Yuzhi laughed blankly. Jiang Yuelou smiled proudly. In the distance, the setting sun, crimson and yellow cross Jiang Yuelou stared into the distance, feeling: Yu Zhi, the sun It's down. Chen Yuzhi raised his eyes and looked along the Jiangyue Tower Go, the dusk is bleak. Jiang Yuelou and Chen Yuzhi stared at each other, tacitly agreeing Laugh, all affectionate, all affection, everything is silent in. The silhouette in the sunset gradually merged. --End of the whole play- Extraordinary ending Green poplar smoke is light outside, red apricot branches spring Noisy. In the Xinglin in the east of the city, one is well repaired But there is no tomb with a stele. In front of the tombstone, put some fresh Bouquets and memorial supplies. The camera pulls up, from the feet up, Jiang Yuelou and Chen Yu 之入画. The two stood side by side in front of the tombstone, looking at jade Tang Chun's tomb is silently missed. Flashback, the scene before Zhan Junbai died. Chen Yuzhi: Where is he buried? Zhan Junbai; Chengdong. Xinglin Li.. Keke (kee Blood). I didn’t engrave the stele, in case someone knows the body Fortunately, he was troubled by me, and he couldn't be peaceful after death. The flashback is over. Chen Yuzhi: I did not agree to his request, if you You know Izumi, surely he is unwilling, right? No one answered, the wind blows the flowers. Jiang Yuelou comfortably embraced Chen Yuzhi and rubbed twice Lower the neck; if you really promise to help him be buried together, That's what insulted boss Yu. Now it's good Up. Jiang Yuelou said, let go of Chen Yuzhi, and looked back The cliff not far away. On the cliff, there is no one Lonely grave with lettering. Because of the terrain, the lone tomb can be In order to see the Xinglin and Yutangchun tombs under the mountain, and The lone tomb is always in the back of Yutangchun's tomb, no Will get a glimmer of light. Chen Yuzhi looked back, feeling complicated, sighing sound. Jiang Yuelou; gone, let's go home for the rest. The setting sun stained the branches and willows of Xinglin, Jiangyuelou, Chen Yu Zhi crosses the Xinglin side by side, and the rest of the discussion spreads from time to time Come. Chen Yuzhi: Yuelou, you said, people have an afterlife ? Jiang Yuelou took a deep look at Chen Yuzhi: I don't know Tao, but I hope there is. Chen Yuzhi laughed; even if he had, he drank Meng Po soup, Probably also met and did not know each other. Jiang Yuelou: Leave a secret sign, how about? If you meet again See, you won’t miss it. Chen Yuzhi ridiculed: Isn't that necessary for generations to come Met you guy? Jiang Yuelou jealous: Listening to these words, it seems not very willing? Chen Yuzhi: If it were you, I would be willing. Jiang Yuelou was deeply moved, and the two smiled at each other. The shadow disappeared in the depths of the apricot forest. The mountain scenery is steep, Zhan Junbai stands on the cliff, but He didn't feel cold, he was just cold in his heart. Zhan Junbai stared deeply at a touch of the apricot forest ahead Back, his eyes cleared and disappeared. Zhan Junbai murmured: Do you have an afterlife? The mountain wind blows and blows, as if it blows this sentence to the mountain In the ears of people. Yutangchun faces the apricot forest and back to the cliff. For some reason, weeping and whispering slightly; I don't know Tao. Zhan Junbai; They have an appointment in the next life... If, I We also have an afterlife, will everything be different? Yutangchun Yuguang glanced back slightly, his eyes earning Tangle and sigh; if there is an afterlife, I Hope, never meet you again. Jun Bai. I hope Hope, for generations to come, never see each other... From Huawei memo @ 直好好的

=> so basically, the shooting happens but Yuzhi was wearing some sort of bulletproof vest and he didn’t get hurt. They hug and both go “so lucky to have met you”. All is well in the world, this is the canon ending and fuck the rest~ 

2)Original text (extracted from the pic)

《恨君不似江楼月》大结局 37-1余之堂门口 日外 江月楼站在街道对面,隔着街道来往 的人流和余之堂的玻璃窗,注视着玻璃 后的陈余之,嘴角不自觉上扬。 37-2 余之堂日内 陈余之收拾着桌面的东西,准备打 样。陈余之察觉到一股灼热的目光, 抬起视线看去,是江月楼。 江月楼得意地冲他扬眉,赠予他一个 明亮的笑。陈余之回以一笑,脫下白 大褂,朝着门外走去。 37-3 余之堂门口日外 陈余之锁门,江月楼穿过街道上 来。 陈余之;早上你不是说最近警署交接 工作多,很忙吗? 江月楼:再忙,也得吃饭啊。再说, 今天特殊日子,元宵节,不跟我一起 过? 陈余之转身,温和一笑:好,一起 过。 37-4景城街道 日外 江月楼、陈余之沿着街道走着,说笑 着。 街道两边的百姓,有的在煮饭,有的 在下棋,有的在喝茶,一副安居乐业的 样子。 江月楼、陈余之心中安慰,对视一 笑。 江月楼:我们的努力没有白费,他们 终于能过上安稳的日子了。 陈余之:是啊,总算,一切都值 不时有人向两人打招呼。 路人甲:陈医生! 路人乙:江科长! 江月楼、陈余之微笑点头回应。 路人热情招呼:江科长,来家里吃汤 圆啊,我们自己做的,别嫌弃。 江月楼笑:不用了,我们也准备回去 做。 陈余之愕了下,待路人走开后,问: 你打算自己做啊? 江月楼;不然呢? 陈余之:我以为,你是说去门口那家 锟饨摊吃,她家每到这天都会煮些汤圆 应景。 江月楼:自己做,别有风味。 陈余之笑:好,听你的。 两人说笑着,走着。前方不远处, 个穿着黄包车夫衣服的人微微抬起视 线,竟然是死里逃生的展君白。 展君白抬起视线,仇恨的目光看去, 主观视角,江月楼和陈余之越来越近 了。 江月楼和陈余之浑然不觉即将到来的 危险,聊着。 江月楼:好久没骑马了,这个周末, 赛马去? 陈余之笑:这次,一定赢你。 江月楼自信满满:试试看。 说话间,两人已经到了展君白面前, 展君白突然持枪,朝着江月楼开枪,他 拿着的,是那把曾送给玉堂春后又回到 自己手上的枪。 陈余之毫不犹豫地扑过去挡在江月楼 身前,子弹射进陈余之心口处。江月楼 想要阻拦未来得及。 江月楼不敢置信的神情,一手扶住快 要倒下的陈余之,毫不犹豫地拔枪,冲 着展君白开枪。百姓们四散而逃。 展君白中弹,身子一震,疯狂恐怖地 笑着倒地,他器张得意地看着江月楼, 身体的痛他毫无感觉,他沉浸在报复的 快感中。他手上戴着的一串珠子断裂落 地,四散开来,那是玉堂春生前不离手 的串珠。 展君白狞笑:江月楼,我失去的,你 也得不到。他死了,比你死了,更痛 吧? 江月楼顾不得搭理展君白,紧张地 扯开陈余之外套,看到子弹射在内里穿 着的护甲上,护甲几乎被穿透,严重变 形,所幸没有伤及身体。 江月楼着急担忧:你怎么样,伤到哪 里没有? 陈余之宽慰地拍拍江月楼的手:我没 事。 江月楼气恼地陈余之一眼:咱俩的 账回去算! 展君白看到陈余之并未受伤,楞住, 不可置信的神情;这怎么可能?! 江月楼转身走向展君白,死死盯着 他:我早就算准了你不会善罢甘休,从 你逃离的那天起,我一直在等着,等你 回来。 江月楼说着,撩开自己外套,他也做 了防护:展君白,我跟你不一样,你失 去的,我永远不会失去。 江月楼说着,看了眼陈余之,两人对 视。 展君白一败涂地,绝望神情。 江月楼再次抬起枪口,准备结束展君 白。 展君白视线从江月楼移向陈余之,撑 着最后一口气:陈医生,能 不能,帮我 个忙? 陈余之冷眼看他:我不会帮你求情 的,你这是罪有应得。 展君白;不是这个忙...咳咳.... 展君白白嘴角和伤口越来越多的血涌 出,染红了地上散落的珠子,宛如红 豆。 展君白:帮我和他,葬在一起... 陈余之意外:你没把他沉进蟹塘? 展君白笑了笑:真沉了他,我如何舍 得。不这样说,又如何镇得住下面的 人。 江月楼、陈余之对视一眼,陈余之百 感交集。 陈余之:他葬在何处? 展君白;城东.杏林里。 陈余之想起玉堂春生前诉说自己喜欢 城东杏林,想要熬过春天,葬在杏林的 一幕。 展君白;帮我,行吗... 陈余之摇头:他生前因你受尽折磨, 死后,定然也不愿和你再有什么瓜 葛。 展君白一生唯一一次恳求的眼神;求 你... 陈医生,求你.. 陈余之没有犹豫,转身走向江月 楼。 江月楼抬起枪口,结束了展君白的一 生。 画面渐黑。 37-5 江月楼的家 夜 内 门开,江月楼、陈余之进门。 江月楼面色不太好,生气中,重重地 坐在沙发上。 陈余之有些心虚,脱下外套,挽起袖 子:做汤圆的东西呢?我去准备。 江月楼盯着他,不说话,视线随着陈 余之走动而动。 陈余之回头:现在不做吗? 江月楼起身,大步走向陈余之:做什 么做,算账! 陈余之:我没受伤... 江月楼气;这是侥幸,万一呢?!我 给你准备护甲是让你自保的,不是为了 让你救人的! 陈余之:可那是你... 江月楼凶巴巴:是谁都不行!再说, 我又不是没有,用得着你冲出来护我 吗?你知不知道,我差点吓死.. 陈余之:对不起,一时情急,我忘 了。 江月楼愣住:你忘了护甲这回事? 陈余之:当时来不及想太多... 江月楼突然感到无比的窝心、感动和 后怕,凶巴巴的脸瞬间软化下来,抬手 给了陈余之一个深深的拥抱。 江月楼低喃:余之,我这一生,很不 幸...但又何其有幸,竟能遇见你。 陈余之低声回应:我也一样,月楼。 遇见你,何其有幸.. 片刻,江月楼松手,推着陈余之走向 厨房。 陈余之:嗯?干什么? 江月楼:做汤圆! 37-6黑屏字幕:一年后 37-7 某乡下小院 日(昏)内/外 暮色昏沉。 屋门开着,可以看到,陈可盈抱着小 自在厅内玩耍。 院子里,江月楼和陈余之坐在石桌 前。桌上摆着些晾晒的草药,陈余之 正在翻拉草药。江月楼手上拿着报纸, 报纸头条,金大成开任署长,景城太 平。 江月楼笑了,放下报纸,拿起茶杯, 惬意泡茶。 江月楼自顾自喝了一口热茶,看向陈 余之:好了,侍弄一下午了,明日再 陈余之笑:过几日是雨季,得趁着天 好,晒干晒透才行。 江月楼递上一杯热茶:不急这一时半 刻,喝口茶缓缓。 陈余之抬起手示意,他修长手指上沾 染了翠色的药草汁液。 江月楼干脆将杯子递过去,陈余之低 头,就着江月楼的手喝了几口水。 江月楼:诊所的位置找好了,需要什 么物件你空了列一下,我们一起去买。 陈余之抬头,看向江月楼,狡點一 笑:别的都好说,只有一件东西,怕是 不好买。 江月楼:什么东西?你说来听听。 陈余之:原来那块余之堂的牌匾挺好 的,可惜,搬家的时候忘带了。 江月楼:这个啊,好办,我来解决。 陈余之笑:怎么,月楼的雕工,一回 生二回熟了? 江月楼愣了下,反应过来,你都知道 了? 陈余之:嗯。 江月楼:什么时候的事儿? 陈余之笑:秘密。 江月楼扬眉:秘密啊?那就别怪我 了。 江月楼说着,起身,去一旁小屋拖出 一块牌匾,上面用布仔细包着,江月楼 扬手,布飘扬开来,露出下面的余之堂 匾额。 陈余之哑然失笑。 江月楼得意傲娇的笑。 远处,夕阳西下,绯红色和黄色交 江月楼凝望远处,感慨:余之,太阳 落山了。 陈余之抬起视线,顺着江月楼视线看 去,暮色苍茫。 江月楼、陈余之凝视彼此,默契一 笑,一切深情,一切情意,尽在不言 中。夕阳下的剪影,逐渐融合。 --全剧终一- 番外结尾 绿杨烟外晓寒轻,红杏枝头春意 闹。城东的杏林里,一座修葺的很好 却没有刻碑的墓。墓碑前,放了些新鲜 的花束和祭奠用品。 镜头拉起,从脚往上,江月楼和陈余 之入画。两人并肩站在墓碑前,望着玉 堂春的坟墓,默默怀念。 闪回,展君白死前一幕。 陈余之:他葬在何处? 展君白;城东. 杏林里..咳咳(咳 血).我没有刻碑,万一被人知晓了身 份,他受我连累,死后亦不得安宁。 闪回结束。 陈余之:我没有答应他的要求,若你 泉下有知,定然也是不愿的吧? 无人回答,风吹花落。 江月楼宽慰地揽住陈余之,摩挲了两 下脖颈;若你真答应帮他合葬在一起, 才是辱了玉老板。如今这样,已经很好 了。 江月楼说着,松开陈余之,回头看向 不远处的悬崖。悬崖之上,一座亦没有 刻字的孤坟。因为地势原因,孤坟处可 以看得到山下的杏林和玉堂春坟墓,而 孤坟则永远在玉堂春坟墓的背影里,不 会得到一丝一毫的余光。 陈余之回头望去,心情复杂,唱叹一 声。 江月楼;走了,余之,咱们回家。 夕阳染红了杏林的枝柳,江月楼、陈 余之并肩穿过杏林,讨论的余声时而传 来。 陈余之:月楼,你说,人有来生 吗? 江月楼深深看了眼陈余之:我不知 道,但我希望有。 陈余之笑了;就算有,喝了孟婆汤, 大抵也是相逢不相识了。 江月楼:留个暗号,如何?若再遇 见,便不会错过了。 陈余之调侃:那岂不是生生世世都要 遇到你这家伙了? 江月楼醋意:这话听着,好像不怎么 愿意? 陈余之:若是你的话,我是愿意的。 江月楼深深感动,两人对视一笑,身 影消失在杏林深处。 山风料峭,展君白站在悬崖之上,却 并不觉得冷,他只是心冷。 展君白深深凝望着前面杏林里的一抹 背影,眼神明了又灭。 展君白喃喃:你说,人有来生吗? 山风吹啊吹,仿佛把这句话吹到了山 下人的耳朵里。 玉堂春面朝杏林,背向悬崖,眼中不 知怎的,微微泛起泪光,轻喃;我不知 道。 展君白;他们约了来生... 如果,我 们也有来生,一切,会不会不一样? 玉堂春余光微微往后看了眼,眼神挣 扎纠结,一声叹息;如果真有来生,我 希望,再也不要遇到你. 君白. 我希 望,生生世世,不复相见... 来自华为备忘录 " @ 直好好的

[creek-cryptid-deluxe]

So, It’s been awhile. There’s a reason. The last week or so has been... a week. jesus christ. I shall regale you of my tale, not in chronological order necessarily because that’s how I roll. BUT if you suffer through it, you shall be rewarded with an outdoor plant update post after. Bribery. 

So. Early last week, The Spawn sat down with me and presented a proposal, a well researched proposal, advocating for her starting her own residential cleaning business because she finds it incredibly satisfying and relaxing to clean stuff and she does quite well. So we sat and brainstormed, researched, and talked about how she planned to advertise. She needed a business gmail (and all the tools that come with that), logo, business social media, website, and flyers. 

Being her age, she doesn’t have the skill or knowledge to do these things. So, I volunteered to help with these things so that she didn’t have to spend money hiring someone. I created the email account, put all the brainstorm stuff into a google doc that saved to the biz drive, which included a to do list and the basic info needed. I created a logo. (At which point, she called me a wizard while watching me do so.) I helped her try to create a biz facebook account, but facebook immediately flagged it as breaking the rules. like literally as soon as I created it. So I appealed it & The Spawn wanted to wait to see what came of that before I went further. So she took me with her to shop for the things on her supply list, and we decided to go grab some of the smaller stuff still needed for J’s appt at the same time. This was Friday. 

Saturday, I got a text from J in the early afternoon saying that he needed me. I quickly packed a ‘just in case’ bag, since I didn’t know what to expect or how long I would be there. Now, you have to understand that in the 7 years we’ve been friends, while he has discussed things with me via phone or text, in person he is like me, incredibly stoic. Hell even via text or phone, he always insists that he’s fine and responds to my reminders that i’m here if he needs someone, and to just let me know, he responds “I appreciate it, but I won’t”. So him reaching out like that is a MASSIVE thing. I showed up, let myself in, and he just walked up to me, wrapped his arms around me and started sobbing. I stayed the night, alternating between being comforting and being distracting. It was extremely disarming to see such raw emotion from him repeatedly over the course of the night and to hear him say the things that he is usually uncomfortable articulating. 

The next morning he seemed better, thanked me for coming (to which I responded “Of course I came. I’ve not ever been lying when I’ve said that I’d come if you needed me, day or night, but you have to let me know.”) and apologized for ‘being a mess’. I told him every time he apologized (which happened quite a bit over the course of the night) that there was no need for an apology because this wasn’t something to be sorry for. He was struggling, as people do, and rather than embrace the darkness or fight it alone, he asked for help from someone he trusts and loves that he knows reciprocates. That i know how hard it is for him to do that and that I am proud of him. 

Sunday afternoon the kids (The Spawn and The Bf) picked me up because she needed to take him home but didn’t want to leave the dogs alone. I got in the car after The Bf got into the back, insisting I take the front seat. We hadn��t even gotten out of the parking lot of the apartment complex when The Spawn casually asked “So are ya’ll fucking?” 

that’s how I learned that I was the subject of a bet. Apparently, The Bf asked where I was when he came over and out of convenience, not wanting to really explain the relationship, The Spawn said I was at my boyfriend’s. I guess he went on about how how come I’m never hanging out with him, etc, so The Spawn explained the actual nature of our relationship. At the end The Bf said “Nah, they fuckin’ but your mom isn’t telling you.” The Spawn said, “No, she’d tell me because when I started high school I asked her about her past encounters and asked about what stuff was, if she’d done it, and if she enjoyed it, and she was always honest with me. That’s how I know she likes it up the butt.” He insisted that J and I were banging so The Spawn, knowing the truth, took advantage of this and made a bet. It was an easy win for her. SO...

I get asked this question & I look at her, eyebrows raised because she knows how our relationship is (granted if I were physically able and he was willing, I would definitely jump back up on that horse) and said, “No. Mom is no longer physically capable of fucking without risk of severe injury. Plus, despite having ridden that horse previously, I’m not into endangering our besties status. I would go into further detail and commentary but I don’t want to make The Bf uncomfortable. These are things you know, so why do you ask?” She told me of the bet, Then i promptly text J about it because I knew he’d get a laugh out of it. And I was right. 

By the end of Sunday, she recieved an email stating that facebook was upholding the ban, so she and I talked and decided to make a webpage via WIX and after getting a few clients, she could upgrade her account with them to get extras that are offered, including her own domain (rather than the name.wix address) and a lack of wix ads on her page.  And then it all went downhill from there.

Monday through Wednesday (yesterday) had The Spawn breathing down my neck more than any boss I’ve ever fucking had about when her business shit would be done. On top of what I’d already done, between Monday and Wednesday I:   set up her google voice account for a business number, wrote her a “first time client” script, created a google sheets quick reference client database, created a google forms for detailed client records (all in a folder together that is searchable by client name, which would be the title of the form), set up the calendar, downloaded and edited/collaged her before and after photos she took via cleaning some of our spaces, and built her a 7 page website including the photos, facts, and little blurbs that go along with it. It went live at the end of yesterday. 

Throughout this process, rather than just checking in and thanking me for doing it all to save her money, she asked me every couple hours what still needed to be done. When I was not as far along as she felt I should be, she got progressively more hostile. Yesterday morning she had the balls to text me “What all do we still need to do before I can get rolling?” I responded with “ ‘We’? hahahahaha *I* still need to [list].” 

I’m sure you’re saying to yourself, “Am I missing something? Did you forget to list something in the list of stuff you did between Monday and Wednesday? You mentioned flyers....” You are correct. But yesterday while I was being driven to my 2nd vax appointment by my father, I basically told him that I’m fried. If a flyer just included facts, I’d be fine, but the part where I need the potential customers to be drawn in and want to learn more is not happening. The creative well has run dry to the point that it is reminiscent of the dust bowl. And I reminded him that there is a reason I no longer do this type of shit for a living. I mentioned that thinking about The Spawn’s company is making me stress puke and that any time The Spawn approaches me to talk about anything, I immediately feel incredibly nauseated. 

Now it should be noted that when I mentioned this in a multi paragraph text earlier, he responded with “Just take a step back from it for awhile, then go back to it.”    

and everyone wonders why on earth I don’t speak up when I hit my limits and why I just push onward despite the damage it does to me. THIS. THIS IS WHY. Everyone is all for me not pushing myself too hard... until it is inconvenient for them. So I basically screamed in the car. On the way back he said he’d help. Ok. cool. 

Except that every fucking idea he had legit just tripled the amount of work I was going to have to do. I mentioned being burned enough that I was considering just paying a freelancer to do it. This motherfucker chimes in with “Oh! [Cool Ex Employee Who Left to be a Stay at Home Mom with her First Baby] does stuff like that. Let me reach out to see if she’d be willing to.” BRUH. That should have been the first thing out of your mouth after my original texts! Jesus Christ. I agreed but with the caveat that HE had to tell The Spawn and say it was his idea because he sees me getting overly stressed and has put his foot down. And he had to do it that night because I knew that if he didn’t, the first thing I’d hear today was “So when are my flyers going to be done?” and I am absolutely not dealing with that shit. The only thing I am doing from this point forward is showing her how to use her database/client files/calendar and I will be happy to answer questions or give advice, but that’s it. This isn’t my company and I’m not employed by her, so I’ve already put in far more work than should have been expected of me, with very little thanks outside of after I finished her logo and a couple times she came down and watched, then told me I’m a fucking wizard. 

Really It was good in a way because I had been doing that thing lately where I wonder if I’m just being dramatic because admin type stuff isn’t that hard and if I could do it from home, I should be able to manage... but this put me back down on earth, where I absolutely am not being dramatic and I cannot fucking do that shit 40 hrs a week for some random asshole. Shit, this was for my own child and I was ready to give up, stab her, then tell her to go fuck herself.

so...that’s been my last week and a half for so. Also, my only side effects from Vax 2 (pfizer) is feeling more tired/run down than usual and a bit of extra joint pain... but those might actually be related to the stress and hell I just went through. who knows. 

as always, don’t steal my shitshow. get your own shitshow. suffer through your own crap. 

[matkomakto]

How was it to be a volunteer in Italy?

In this post I want to describe my experience as an AIESEC volunteer in Bologna (I posted a lot during this period on my Instagram). My project was related to SDG4, or in other words Quality Education. The name of my NGO is EduChange. What I did in practice was teaching English and giving presentations about Poland and Polish culture to Italian children at the age of 9-10 (and once 14, but that’s a different story). I will put a line now, so that if you’re not interested you won’t have to scroll like crazy.

ARRIVAL

I don’t want to describe the whole procedure of applying, it’s very easy and nothing really happens. Before you leave you have two meetings - one in your local AIESEC and the other via Internet with the one you’re going to. My journey starts on January, 17th. In the morning I entered a bus to Kraków, from where I departed at 4pm to Venice, and then to Bologna. Venice welcomed me with rain (I got a little cold because of that, but Gripex saved my life once again) and so did Bologna. The whole journey took 26 hours (yes, I went by bus and you can’t judge me). Somewhere on my way my first host-mum, Mary, messaged me wishing me a good journey and asking if I was safe (and in this sentence you have everything about this woman - always kind and caring <3). A few hours later, my other host-mum, Chiara, who was supposed to take me from the station messaged me too. At the station I was welcomed by Chiara and Matilde, one of my new sisters (in general, now I have 3 sisters and 1 brother). In the car I met Davide, dad, and Carlotta, my other sister (or daughter, as some people would say). After a short conversation, I realised we were in the house of Mary, where I was about to spend next 3 weeks of my life. I was tired af, but it’s understandable, I think. I messaged my buddy, Marie Claire (oh, haven’t told you about her — a buddy is a person from bolognese AIESEC, who takes care of you, a kind of nanny I’d say) and my manager, Sofia. And then I had dinner and went to sleep. I was sleeping from 14.00 till 11.00 on Sunday. I had no idea what would happen next.

FERRARA

I woke up when nobody was at home. It was a bit creepy tbh. On the table I found a note “We’ll be home at 12, eat anything you want” (I didn’t, my stomach was still acting as if I were in the bus). When the whole family, it means — Mary, Andrea, Athina and Achille, came back, they told me “We’re going to Ferrara”. I thought “What is Ferrara?”. It’s a beautiful town near Bologna, where we spent an amazing afternoon. I didn’t know anything about this town, and even if Mary and Andrea tried their best as guides, I spent a whole evening using Google Maps to identify objects I had seen. Among them were the Cathedral, Palazzo Muncipale, Castello Estense, Palazzo dei Diamanti and Via delle Volte. I ate a delicious cake, which name I don’t remember, filled with Nutella. Achille kept complaining “Maddalena’s cake is the best!” (they all  ok, almost all called me Maddalena, which is Italian version of Magdalena). In the evening we played all three in the living room and I was texted by Serena, an English teacher from one schools I was going to teach in, also one of my best bolognese friends. With her message I became both excited and anxious about the next day.

FIRST DAY(S)

All the anxiety disappeared when I entered the first school. The children were so lovely and cheerful that I fell in love with them (in a good meaning ofc) instantly. On the first lesson I was just sitting and doing nothing. Then, Serena came, and I was helping her to answer children’s questions during a final test. Believe me, there were hundreds of them. I came home tired, but happy. And finally I became hungry and ate everything I was offered (I always have a problem with eating far from home). The next day meant another school. It was less pleasant as a building, as Mary described it - it looked more like a hospital. Nevertheless, both the teachers and the students again were pure love. In the canteen I sat with 5 boys, who were supposed to make an interview with me. I felt as if I had been watching Familiada live. Then, one of the teachers came to our table hugging one boy saying “Ask him as often as you can. He’s my son”. Lovely, isn’t it? XD In the next class two girls came to me, giving me a drawing (I have it still in my diary). When I asked in Italian if it was for me, I heard a loud, full of shock “LEI CAPISCEEEEEEEEE”. One of the funniest things during these first days is that nobody knew I spoke Italian, and seeing their faces as they discovered it was a very entertaining activity. Wednesday was my day out, I’ll describe it later. On Thursday and on Friday I went to the third school. I ended up in Athina’s class and believe me, it’s really hard to be in one class with your sibling. Fun fact, both English teachers in that school are Rosannas, which confused me a bit these days.

DISCOVERING BOLOGNA

Finally, on my free Wednesday I got an opportunity to go to the centre. I remember my heartbeat when the bus no.13 entered the centre, it was fulfilling of a dream I made as a 13-year-old girl. I walked through Via d’Azeglio and found myself in Piazza Maggiore. Do you remember that scene from Home Alone, where Kevin realises he’s home alone and walks along screaming as crazy? It was me at the moment (but I screamed internally, don’t be scared). I entered Basilica (which I loved and I came back there several times, even twice on the same day). When I went out, I met Marie Claire. She was my guide that day, we had a great time as she showed me Bologna and its 6 secrets (google it). Later I was supposed to go on an AIESEC meeting (there were 2 meetings and Global Village). I continued my trip around city centre from Saturday till Monday, even if the weather wasn’t as great as on Wednesday. Also, on Saturday we spent a few hours “occupando Italia in un Irish pub” with other volunteers. On that day I discovered KIKO Milano, which is now my #1 makeup brand, I’m addicted to it, sorry if I’m a disappointment.

WEEK #2

I was about to write “Nothing interesting really happened”. But damn, I survived a power shortcut in one of the schools, I ate a true Italian pizza and gelato for the first time, I prepared 120 minutes of lesson in 5 minutes because the teacher was absent, I got engaged into “International Mother Tongue Day” organised by one of my schools, I bought a pair of beautiful shoes, I started to enjoy my new social life (volunteers, ily’all and miss y’all <3) and I managed to organise my first trip completely on my own. If that’s nothing then I don’t know what it is. Oh yes, my famous trips, or as I heard from some people “you have too much money”. Let’s remember the first one.

ROME

No matter how hard I try to overcome it, the very first thing I remember about Rome is the pain in my feet. If you’re ever in Rome, please children, don’t go there in brand-new shoes and try not to walk 21,5 km in a single day. As a true Polish, I will start with complaining. I waited 1,5h for a bus and it didn’t have a machine to buy tickets, as they have in Bologna (Bologna-Rome 1:0). On Saturday, despite not the best weather, I made a beautiful trip from Basilica Papale di Santa Maria Maggiore, through Colloseum, Forum Romanum, Altare della Patria, Palazzo Colonna, Fontanna di Trevi, Piazza Navona, Castel Sant’Angelo to the Vatican City and its museum (I have an illegal photo from Sistine Chapel, but shh). My friends volunteers, who also were in Rome, wanted me to go with them to Trastevere, but believe me, I was dying. The next day I did the check out before 8am and I enjoyed empty Rome on Sunday morning, it was amazing. I visited Trinità dei Monti. It was almost empty, @turbinis​ told me I was very lucky, so I will make you see how my luck looks like:

INDEED.IT.WAS.EMPTY.AND.ONE.HOUR.LATER.I.CAME.BACK.THERE.AND.IT.WAS.FULL.OF.PEOPLE.

WEEK #3

In one class there was a Polish boy. Whenever I saw him, he was yelling “CZEEEŚĆ” and whenever I told something about Poland all the children looked at him in the way “Do you confirm what she’s saying?” This week also brought me two great memories with my bro, Achille. He was sick and out of school and this week he was supposed to be back. He was a bit depressed and thought he would have to study all night. Oh, I forgot about the deep existential question he asked me two weeks before: “Have you ever loved someone on this Earth?”. Deep, you must admit. Another time, he was watching cartoons. When his cartoon ended, they started a cartoon for younger kids. He got offended, switched off the tv and took off the battery from the remote control, because “he won’t watch things for babies”. I remember that one day I became extremely hungry and the next day I went to Café Zamboni (coming back from Pinacoteca, which was amazing btw) and ate so much, that I could barely walk XD. I started realising that I want to go to Erasmus here. It was also a week of Sanremo, I remember with laugh how Athina tried to show her dad the performance of Achille Lauro and poor babbo was running away from her and her phone (I was team Gabbani, although now, when I’m writing this, I hear a loud “FAAAAAI RUMOOORE QUIIIII”). On Friday I got compliments from Rosanna and Rosanna for being a good teacher. They really liked how I had substituted Rosanna#1 the week before. Having my wings grown, I started my next trip, using Frecciarossa for the first time.

NAPLES

Although you may not believe it, it was the first time I had seen the sea. Moreover, I saw it for the first time in the same place as did Elena Greco in “L’amica geniale”, but I realised it a few weeks later. Getting out of the hostel, I went down Via Toledo, Galleria Umberto I, Castel Nuovo to Piazza del Plebiscito. I swear, I will fight anyone who says that Naples is dirty/ugly/both. Also, everyone was telling me about thieves, but somehow I didn’t get stolen. After I finished a gelato on Piazza, I went to the sea. It was one of the most beautiful feelings I’ve ever experienced. I thought “Screw all the sightseeing, you will do it tomorrow. Enjoy the sea today”, and so I did. I followed Lungomare all the time, passing along Castel dell’Ovo to the Mappatella beach. As it was the first time I saw the sea, the beach was also a whole new experience. Kids, never ever go to the beach in winter shoes, did you know? Because I didn’t. Probably I would watch a sunset there, but I got a bit scared with all those theft-stories and I was in the hostel before it got dark (I watched the sunset on Piazza del Plebiscito though). On Sunday I went from Santa Maria del Carmine, via Via San Biagio dei Librai and Via dei Tribunali to the Cathedral, Piazza Nazionale and train station. I arrived in Bologna at 11pm tired, but happy.

WEEK #4

In the middle of my stay, I moved to my second host family. At the beginning it was a bit weird (just like every time you change your life 180°). Everything changed the next evening, when I stayed home alone with my sisters and their nanny. We had a great time playing games and joking. Although I’m still ashamed that I lose in Mario, which was the game of MY childhood :C. That week another AIESEC meeting took place. Even two meetings, because on February, 14th there was a Global Village. It was a great event, even if I couldn’t enjoy it till the end, because the next day I had to wake up early. For the train. Btw, it was a Valentine’s Day, wasn’t it? I received some sweet cards from my students and it made my heart melt. After school we met with Marie Claire, who showed me something that now I miss a lot - tigelle.

FLORENCE

I woke up with a strong “oh shit” feeling. But as I realised I’m going to Florence, I got up and got ready in 20 minutes. Everyone was still sleeping, though I woke up Chiara when I tried to open the door. It was a cursed day for trains, I think. The train to Florence had too few wagons (I was assigned #9, but there were only 7, though they let me in) and the train from Florence was 40min delayed (I got into precisely on time I should get off in Bologna). I spent a wonderful day, mostly contemplating Il Duomo. Seriously, I took 42 photos of it, which makes almost a half of all photos taken in Florence. I can’t resist to put here at least one:

When I arrived to Ponte Vecchio, I saw a beautiful exhibition of jewelry. Really, it was so beautiful, that I couldn’t stop watching it. I even took a photo of it. As I started to continue my trip I said to myself “Magdalena, you will regret it till the end of your life!” So I came back and bought one bracelet. For 130€. Do I regret it? No. Would I regret if I hadn’t bought it? Yes. I will even show it to you.

One of the most important highlights is the visit to Capelle Medicee - if you ever go to Florence, go there, it costs only 2€ if you’re below 25 (or 26 idk). I enjoyed an amazing view from Giardini Boboli, saw another Neptun Fountain (like, Italians, aren’t you done with them yet???) and took a rest in front of Santa Croce. As a nice finish, I watched the sunset by the Cathedral.

WEEK #5

That Sunday (yes, now I start with Sunday, why not) Chiara woke me up early in the morning and we went to Matilde’s training (she plays rugby and btw Athina plays tennis and Carlotta does skating, I’m really proud of them). After the match (Matilde’s team won ofc) we went to Chiara’s parents. Oh my, I had never thought that people who had never seen me before would treat me as if I were their granddaughter, because that’s what I felt. I don’t remember if I ever had such a dinner, in such an atmosphere. I miss nonna’s tortellini, no one will ever prepare me better ones. In the evening, we played Dixit (a bit of Katowice flashback), the best game ever and don’t even try to say something different. Monday and Tuesday were the days of saying goodbye, since next week these days were supposed to be free. On Wednesday I spent a nice afternoon/evening with Heloísa, my Brasilian friend. We both didn’t know then that we will miss going out so much. On Thursday and on Friday I was a bit sick, I don’t know whether it was just a cold, a beginning of flu or covid-19, which everyone believes me to have had. Nevermind, on Saturday I was completely well.

SAN LUCA

San Luca is a sanctuary located on a hill near Bologna. You can go there on foot, through 666 “portici”. So did I with my host-mom Chiara and Carlotta. It was a beautiful, sunny day. I remember Carlotta running fast up the stairs and being tired when we went down. My sister has a big, pure heart. She gave her chocolate to a homeless man. Also, on that day she became my daughter. At least for the woman in the souvenir shop. (If you ask about Matilde, she was on a soccer game with her dad)

WEEK #6 HOW IT ALL COLLAPSED

Here, I should describe my last week in Italy. But I won’t.

It all started on Sunday morning. I had bought train tickets to Venice and Rimini a few days before. Chiara said “Do you know, there are more and more cases of coronavirus in Venice, in the evening there will be an official communicate. Consider not going there tomorrow”. All I said was “Okay.”. But really, I had no fear of this virus, I even thought I would take advantage of it, because panic means it will be less crowded, no? In the afternoon I went to the centre. In Piazza Maggiore, Via dell’Indipendenza and near the Two Towers people were celebrating the end of the carnival. As I don’t like crowded spaces, I went for a walk near Via San Vitale and Strada Maggiore. As the sun started to set, I decided to go back home. I received a message from AIESEC members that all schools in Emilia Romagna are closed. “A whole free week, cool” I thought. But as the new messages appeared I realised, that there would be no Venice tomorrow. They wrote “Please, don’t travel”. But then it was not my problem. I wanted to get into a bus, but somehow all the bus stops were empty. I had to go back on foot. Have I mentioned that I lived about 5 km from the centre? So, it was a long walk. As I walked, I tried to think what I would do for a whole week as probably the girls will go to grandparents’ and Chiara and Davide have their works. With Chiara we made a decision, I have to go back to Poland. We contacted a few members, about an hour later I had new bus tickets on my phone. We went to a supermarket, it was as if a war was coming. 5 minutes before closing the shop was full of people. And empty on shelves a few minutes later. At 10pm we drove to grandparents to leave the girls there. It was one of the hardest farewells in my life. You can ask why, they are not even your family. Maybe because I remember Carlotta’s words, when they both occupied the whole sofa and I asked “Oh, there’s no longer place for me, is there?” she answered “There will always be a place for you here”. Maybe because I remember Matilde’s head on my shoulder when we were on the way. Maybe because I remember how grandma treated me as her real granddaughter giving me some food and her confitures to Poland. Maybe because all these people showed me more familiar love and affection in these 5 weeks than I received from my real family. Maybe because they still text me asking how I’m doing. Maybe.

I stayed awake till 3am, making my suitcase and handbags. On Monday I went to school, which was closed, to make a closing meeting and to say goodbye to my first host-family. I went for a last coffee and pizza to my favourite restaurant nearby and came back home. I watched tv all the afternoon and had a farewell-pizza as a supper (2 pizzas in a day, very healthy, Magdalena). On Tuesday at 6am I was in a bus heading to Prague and then to Kraków. Instead of watching the sea in Rimini, I was watching some fields somewhere between Kraków and my town.

To make a happy end, it was the time of my life, I’d write something better here but it’s almost 1:30am when I write this, so sorry :C

[avengerscompound]

The Tower: Unexpected, 13

The Tower: Unexpected An Avengers Fanfic

Series Masterlist Previous //

Pairing:  Avengers x ofc, Bruce Banner x Bucky Barnes x Clint Barton x Wanda Maximoff x Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff x Tony Stark x Thor x Sam Wilson x OFC (Elly Cooper)

Word Count: 1910

Warnings:  smut (orgy, oral sex, vaginal sex), pregnancy

Synopsis: A little over 2 years after moving into the Avengers Tower, Elly finds herself pregnant against the odds.  While some are excited, others are terrified, and pregnancy that none expected to happen causes rifts through the group and threatens to end the relationship.  

Author’s Note:  Written with my little dumpling @fanficwriter013

Chapter 13: Shopping for Twins

The plans were put in place to move.  Tony bought land up in Esopus that sat right on the Hudson.  We saw it via google maps but he was pretty determined that we weren’t allowed to see it in person until it was done.  What we did know was that there was going to be a new state of the art facility for the Avengers.  It would have hangers and landing pads for the jets, labs and offices, gyms and rooms for weapons and combat training.  As well as conference rooms, living quarters and all the other trappings for what was essentially a privately run military installation.  We would be getting a house a little off from it, surrounded by trees and right by the water.

It was exciting to think we were all going to live together like an actual family and not just a bunch of people who were dating and happened to live in the same building.  It was going to be a big change and one that would take some getting used to but I was ready for it.

Now that the house was under construction, I was no longer worried about not having a place for the babies to go.  Things were more certain and I felt more ready for them and what having them meant for us as a group.

Except for the fact that we weren’t at all ready for them.  We had no baby clothes.  No furniture.  No diapers or bottles or wraps.  I was 26 weeks pregnant and we weren’t prepared to actually have babies at home with us in any way, shape or form.

So Tony took Wanda and I to Maddison Avenue to shop for baby supplies.  We wandered through the cribs when I stopped at two that seemed to clip together to form a sort of double crib.  It was a light, cream, stained timber and I ran my fingers over the sleighed ends.

“Twin cribs?  I didn't know these were a thing.”

Wanda came up beside me and picked up the card that described it.  “You didn’t?  They have lots of things for twins.”

I smiled and wrapped my arm around her waist and leaned my cheek on her head.  Of course, my little lost twin would know all about what was available for twins these days.  She’d probably been researching since she found out I was pregnant with twins.  “Do we get one of these?”  I asked.  “They're so big.”

“We could always have one built,”  Tony said.  “Design it how we want.  But this will fit in the nursery just fine.”

“What if they don’t like sleeping next to each other?”   I asked.

“It splits apart,”  Wanda said, moving to the side of it. “See there are, clips here and here.  Then it’s just two cribs.” 

“Yeah, that could work.  So this one then?”  I asked.

“Yep, and if it doesn’t work.  I’ll just make something.”  Tony said grabbing the price ticket from it.

“Of course you could,”  I said nudging him.  I took my list out and my eyes flicked over them.  “Okay, so change table next to match this.  The question is, are we getting one with the bath built-in?”

Tony shook his head.  “No, I’m designing the room to have a deep sink installed.  Easier that way.”

We went over to where the change tables were and selected one that was long and had lots of drawers and had that similar rough-looking washed paint look.  Tony also grabbed the ticket for the most expensive cot mattresses.  On the way to look at the bassinets, I stopped at the rockers and sat in a gorgeous winged backed one.  “I didn’t even consider something like this.  I want this.”

Tony chuckled.  “If you’d let the designer do this you wouldn’t need to consider everything.  It would all be there ready for you.”

I wrinkled my nose.  “Tony.”

“Yeah, Tony.”  Wanda agreed which made Tony break down into laughter.

“Alright, rocker.  Ottoman.  Which fabric?”  He said tossing the swatches in my lap.  I picked a vintage rose color that I thought would match the style of the chair.  We then moved on to the bassinets and Wanda let out a squeak almost immediately.

“Elly!  Can we get the one that looks like a basket!”  She said, almost skipping over to it.  “It has so many colors for the fabric.  We can get pink and blue.  Or white with pink stripes and white with blue stripes.  And they have wheels so we can wheel them into the room with us if they are being hard to settle.”

She was so excited and looked so happy there was no way I could say no to her.  Tony grabbed the ticket for those too and we moved on to the strollers.

I looked over the different types they had for twins.  There were ones that were side-by-side and ones that stacked them one on top of the other.  There were classic ones with four wheels and jogging ones with three.

“Okay.  Here's the question, is it better to stack them and be streamlined or have them side-by-side and take up the whole sidewalk?”  I asked.

“Side-by-side,”  Tony said with no hesitation at all.

“Jogging one I guess,”  I said, thinking about all the runners in our family.  I chuckled thinking about Steve zooming past Sam while he was pushing the twins.  “You think they go fast enough for Steve and Buck?”

Tony thought about it for a moment.  “I'll have to make one. Or special wheels.”

“So don't even buy a stroller?  Or buy one and you alter it?”  I asked.

Tony nodded as he came to a decision.  “I should probably just make it.  They'll need bug guards.”

“Okay.  Let's do it that way.”  I said with a laugh, before looking at my list.  “Diaper Genie, car seats, slings, diapers, wraps, wipes, bottles.  Those are the things that just the best thing is what we want.  Then it's basically clothes and toys.”

We each grabbed a shopping cart and started just putting the best of the medium items in.  Tony getting car seats and bottles.  Wanda baby slings and the cutest and prettiest muslin wraps she could find.  Me grabbing everything else.  We met back in the center of the store.  “Just clothes and toys now and this place has none of that.”

“Okay, I’ll pay and organize this to be delivered and we can drive up Maddison until we find something else.  A little Ralph Lauren for kids.”  Tony said.

We went to the counter and waited as Tony organized and paid for everything.  When he was done we went back out to the Lotus that Tony had parked out front.  I let Wanda into the back and then got in.  “We’re going to need to need to get a minivan or something,”  I said.

Tony looked at me in shock.  “You shut your dirty mouth.  Never say that word again.”

“Minivan?”  I asked.

“Elly!  That’s blasphemy!”

Wanda and I broke down into giggles while Tony glared at us and pulled the sportscar out.  He drove a little way down the street and pulled up at the front of a boutique childrenswear shop.  We all got out and went in.  I grabbed Wanda by the shoulders and looked into her eyes.  “Now the fun stuff,”  I said shaking her.

“Cute little outfits?”  She squealed.

“Yes and toys,”  I said, grinning.  “Let's see if they have little Armani suits to match Tony.”

“Not here,”  Tony said.

“Somewhere?  They exist?”  I asked.

“Of course, but not here.   We’ll get him one.”

“Nice.  You know what they do have?”  I asked him.

“Here?”  He asked.

“That was rhetorical because the answer is …”  I moved down the rack beside Tony and held up an Iron Man onesie.  He frowned at me.  “No?  Cap instead?”  I asked holding up a little Captain America one.

“Those aren't authorized.”  He said furrowing his brow and coming over to me.

I took a look at the label.  “Really?”

“I'm pretty sure,”  Tony said taking it off me and looking at the label.  “Yeah, these aren’t ours.  That’s going to be a problem.”  He took a photo of the label and texted it to someone before putting it back.  “Don’t be buying Avengers’ shit anyway.  We have it in the gift-shop.”

“Fine,”  I huffed.

“Elly.  Little shoes!”  Wanda said poking me which made me perk right back up again.

“Oh, yes.  Shall we?”  I said, and Wanda nodded.  “Alright.  I’m gonna go this way.  You go that way.  Call me,”  I said tapping my head.  “When you find something extra cute and hold it up and I’ll do the same.”

“Okay, let’s do it,”  Wanda said.

We all separated, grabbing baskets and throwing things into them.  Tony wandered the racks, occasionally taking something off and hanging it over his arm as he watched us go completely crazy buying baby clothes and toys.  I’d look at him sometimes and he looked so content.  It was funny to think that just a month ago he’d been hiding from this completely.  I think part of it wasn’t just the babies either.  I think he liked that I was finally just letting him buy stuff, which was easier for me here because it wasn’t for me.

By the time we were done, we had around six baskets full of plush toys, stacking rings, baby mobiles, onesies, little dresses, outfits, and tiny shoes.  “This should do until they're 21 right?”

“Maybe for a year.”  Wanda teased.

“I guess that's pretty good,”  I said and leaned against Tony.  “Alright.  Let's pay. I need to get off my feet.  This was fun but holy crap does carrying two babies hurt your back.”

“Okay, checking out,”  Tony said, taking things off us.  “Why don’t you go wait in the car?”

“You sure?”  I asked.

He waved me off and I kissed his cheek before heading out to the car with Wanda.  She once again had to be let in the back and by the time I was in my seat I sighed in relief.  “You happy?”  I asked.

“Of course.”

I hummed.  “Me too.  I don't know why but... Feels really real now we have things.  I can't wait to have the nursery set up.”

She giggled.  “It still has to be built yet.”

“I know I know,”  I said.  “Did you see how small that stuff was? They're gonna be preemie too.  So teeny tiny.”

Wanda sat up like she’d been shocked.  “Did we get the preemie diapers?”

“Yes,”  I said giggling.  I looked at my stomach and caressed my hand over it.  “That's what I grabbed and then some just regular ones in case these guys are super soldiers and just come out normal-sized.”

“Okay, good. Good to be prepared.”  Wanda said, relaxing again.

“Yeah.”  I agreed.  “What if only one is and one is tiny and the other is huge?”

“Well, we'll take care of them equally.”

“What if one is Bruce's and it hulks out of its diapers?”

“We'll deal with it.”

I giggled.  “So calm about everything.”

She shrugged.  “I have to be.”

I turned in my seat as best I could and looked back at her.  “Why?”

“I want them.”  She said and rubbed my arm.  “We've done the shopping, we've had the appointments. We're doing everything right. There's going to be nothing that can stop us.”

// NEXT

[bbmarks]

Hello! Hi! Your stuff is AMAZING! I have been using photoshop my entire life and have always been deathly afraid of trying GIFs. Is it hard? It seems so & when i start to try and google Im like hmm nah lol. I notice on tumblr people comment stuff like “wow your smoothness is great” or the quality & also I see some say the coloring of a certain scene made the GiF edit hard for them. Do you have any pointers for this stuff or some resource where I can pick up and learn to make nice gif sets :) TY

awww, thank you, that’s so sweet! 

no, i don’t think making gifs is hard at all :) especially once you get it down it’s just basically following steps. i could do it in my sleep lol. 

one of my internet friends actually taught me how to make them via text/videos a few years ago! so i was able to ask her about certain things i was confused about as i was learning. it probably only took an afternoon to really get it down! and once i got the basic structure down i could learn more about sharpening, coloring, text, etc. on my own. 

i can teach you some basics, but there are tons of good tutorials on here you can follow as well :) under the cut cause it’s gonna be long

To answer your questions: 1. some scenes/shows are really hard to color. sometimes that’s due to the lighting of the scene itself (i.e. dark/bright lights, etc.) or just due to the color palette the show itself uses. 2. i’m assuming you’re talking about sharpness when you say smoothness, but correct me if i’m wrong. gifs will look the best when they are taken from high quality content (netflix/hulu, HQ youtube videos) and you can sharpen them in photoshop itself (much like you would a picture). i have a sharpening action presaved in photoshop that is the first thing i do when opening up the video i want to gif in photoshop. 

Now for some giffing basics! 1. I typically screen record whatever it is i want to gif unless i can find a hq youtube video to download, but i find screen recording works best for quality. i use QuickTime Player for this. once i have what i want captured i export it in 4k and save it to a folder i have designated for videos i want to gif. 2. moving to photoshop the first step is opening the video you want to edit. to do this you go to file -> import -> video frames to layers once you do that a window will pop up asking for you to pick a range. you do not want to import the entire video bc you’d end up with way too much and if it’s too large ps won’t be able to process it. you’ll pick ‘selected range only’ and ‘limit to every 2 frames’. then i typically move the middle slider to the part of the clip i want to use and use the first and last sliders to pick the beginning and end of the clip you want (it’s okay if you get stuff in the beginning or end you don’t want as you can delete it later) 3. once i do that the first thing i do before messing with anything is use my sharpening action shortcut i have programmed in photoshop and wait for it to do it’s thing (this step you’ll have to skip until you can learn more about that and i really don’t remember how i actually set it up) 4. after that i’ll use the timeline and delete the frames i absolutely don’t want in my gif (i.e. if you got any extra stuff from the beginning/end). never never never delete from the middle as it won’t look right in the end. 5. after that i click on the three little lines on the far right of the timeline and click ‘select all frames’ then i click the three lines again and choose ‘flatten frames into layers’. then on the layers panel you’ll have frames that were just added on top of the layers. you want to then delete all the layers so you’re just left with frames 1-X.  6. after that i use the timeline to time delay the clips. It’ll usually say 0.02, but that’s much too fast so we want to slow it down. I usually change it to 0.07, but if i am working with something where i have fewer frames (like 25 or less) i will use anything from 0.07-0.11, just depends what looks right. 7. now comes cropping! you should know what you want your gif to look like before even making it (probably even before you start gathering clips). With my new Brio edit I had to figure out which lyrics i wanted to use, how many gifs i was going to use, what size i wanted them to be, and what scenes i wanted to use. the size i used for that one was 540 x 280 (you want to make sure your sizes are in pixels, not inches). For the smaller gifs that are side by side i usually use 245 x 160 and you can put up to 12 of those in your set. 8. since i suck at coloring i use pre-saved psds for my coloring. i have some basic ones saved, but also some more fun ones as well. these are pretty easy to find around tumblr and all you have to do is save them to your computer and then just open then in photoshop! you’ll want to select all the layers on the psd then drag it over on top of all the layers on your gif. note that not all psds work for everything and you may have to do some adjustments on different layers to get it to look right. 9. after editing it’s time to save! tumblr has some size restriction so if you pass them your gif won’t move or might just be a blank space. all gifs must be under 3 MB and i think your whole set has to be under 10 MB for it to work correctly. When saving I select those 3 little lines on the far right of the timeline again, make sure all layers are selected, then again flatten all frames into layers. after that you go to file -> export -> save for web. after that you’ll just hit save in the next window then you’ll be able to save it in .gif format and it’s ready for tumblr! 

there are tons of different ways to gif, this is just how i do it :) the more you practice the more you’ll learn 

[theinfamousdoctorf]

So I’m finally back...

 Those few who know me personally will be aware that me and @theoverworldqueen have purchased a small rural house together. <3 It’s taken the better part of a year to make it happen and several months apart while I negotiated a transfer with my job and she logged work history in the place we were moving too for the mortgage requirements. [So we were apart for several more months then we‘d planned on. ;_: ]

 It took me almost two months to pack our household by myself, and several days to actually load the truck. The ‘friends’ who had promised to help us move faded away when they were actually needed, and I had to utilize some local kids who received cash and some friendly neighbors who were paid in furniture [that didn’t fit in the truck] and booze.

  When the day came to actually leave, I still had no volunteers to drive the truck because none of my friends could get time off work. [I had to drive my car with our eight cats inside.] The only people available to help were my parents.

The exact people I was moving to get the fuck away from.

 My mother refused to do any driving because the big truck was ‘too scary’. My pathetic excuse for a father, [from here on called jackass], would be doing all of the driving. Despite the fact that he’d just had several toes removed for diabetic reasons. My mother planned the route, later I realized she not only planned it with a paper atlas rather then choosing the fastest route via Google, [because she didn’t know how to use the app and wouldn’t ask for help] but also planned a very circuitous route in a vain attempt to avoid driving through any mountains. [Because they are also just too scary.]  So we start driving. A 26 foot Budget rental truck with a small horse trailer on it, and my car with me and the cats. Before we even got out of Texas, the horse trailer hit a bump and lost a wheel. It was then dragged about a mile while throwing an ocean of sparks where the metal edge was grinding against the asphalt. This was because it happened on a narrow highway with no breakdown lane. I barely managed to avoid getting hit with the wheel that flew off as well. We sat in a parking lot all night waiting for a tow driver who basically told us the king nut flew off and it was totaled. I had a partial mental breakdown and had to abandon most of the things I’d packed into the trailer. The truck was already stuffed up to the door and what little I saved was jammed in my car and thrown on top of everything else in the truck.   The cats were riding in a pair of pop-up zippered tents and were pretty mad by this point. My car stank of piss and fear pheromones.

 And then we drove, and drove and drove. Keep in mind that my destination was Washington state and I was coming from Galveston TX. It should have been a 2 and a half day drive with a stop to sleep each night. Around the third day I demanded to see the map and realized she had sent us across the widest part of Texas and New Mexico before turning north. There was a lot of arguing. Especially because I realized jackass was a terrible driver. So I had no choice but to watch helplessly as this colossal asshole drove a truck rented in my name, with nearly all my worldly goods inside, over every fucking curb, bumping it up and down and weaving all over the road. He hit a call box outside a Jack in the Box, he scraped a parked truck, he hit signs at more then one gas station and skirted far too close to the pumps with the back end of the truck. I went beyond the reasonable limits of human stress.

 The cats destroyed the zippers on the carriers and I was forced to just let them roam the car. First panting in the heat and then huddled freezing as we got further north. [I had them all in little safety vests and that kept them mostly calm, pro tip.]  On the fourth night jackass drove into a truck stop and then behind it. Up an unlit dirt road that said ‘dangerous blasting area authorized access only’. He then turned around several times and went back down to the truck stop where I blocked him with my car. He and my mother were having a screaming match because he wouldn’t explain what he was doing or why and wouldn’t stop doing donuts in the restricted area when she told him too.  I lost my shit. I screamed in his face and when he didn’t respond, I grabbed his horrible scraggy beard and then his throat and repeated myself. I took the keys and went to try and get some sleep in my car. [With so many animals in tow I couldn’t get a hotel room and really couldn’t leave the car unattended at all. So I hadn’t been able to properly shower in days. Plus I’d forgotten to bring a spare pair of shoes and my sandaled feet were red and freezing.]  The bastard has always tried to make my mother choose between me and him. He’s a psychotic manic depressive on a whole rainbow of medications. He’s a misogynist who really wanted a son, plus a racist and generally stingy and awful person. A running argument revolved around his insistence on cutting my lawn three times a week with the mower blade on the lowest setting so he was just killing anything green and kicking up dust. [My mother is pure enabler, always apologizing for his terrible behavior and gaslighting me like I’m over reacting.] He’s literally alienated so many people where I was living that I’ve lost out on jobs because he insists that I’m the terrible one and trash-talks me to everyone he meets.  So we finally get back on the road.

 In Wyoming I tried to get some sleep at a rest stop and someone hit my car and busted out a tail light. Several times we almost run out of gas because her planned route avoided any cities in case there was traffic. At this point I have a massive rash under my bra and just take it off.

 On the fifth night we arrive in a gas station in Idaho. I go to pee and come back outside to find jackass laying on the ground with three people hovering over him. I inform my mother that he fell and go back to my car. So emotionally dead at this point I don’t feel anything. 

 I am informed that jackass has broken his hip.

 I’ve spent most of my life praying for him to die, so that part doesn’t touch me. The part that ripped my heart out was that my mother told me that I’m now ‘on my own’. She is going to the hospital with him. She left me in a freezing parking lot with eight cats in a car and a giant moving truck with all my things in it.  Terrified and heartbroken I call my girlfriend Lie. She is eight hours away and leaving now to come rescue me. She’s bringing our friend Ashley as well. So I huddle in the car with the cats and try to sleep. After several hours I get a text from my mother telling me to bring her luggage and such to the hospital. At this point I’m furious. I tell her I will not do that. She says I will. I stop responding.  In the morning my rescuers arrive and we begin the long final limp over the mountains.  I get several more messages threatening me, trying to shame me for just ‘moving on without them’ and ‘not caring if your father dies’.  I was instructed to deal with my own problems like an adult. So that’s what I did. At that point the rental truck needed to be returned and I hadn’t even arrived yet. My job was waiting on me to show up the next day for orientation, and she’d basically wasted all the time I’d budgeted for unloading the truck. There was no way in hell I was going anywhere to give either of them anything.

 But we did finally get here. The Budget guy sent me his ex-wife who happily took some cash in exchange for unloading the truck with me, and we finally got rid of the thing. Unfortunately my car overheated from all the punishment it took and it’s currently non-functional. My job gave me a little extension so I’m using the time to get our household set up again.  My Etsy shop [https://www.etsy.com/shop/PatchworkLaboratory ] is still on vacation for the moment because the previous tenant didn’t like mail and just didn’t have a mailbox, but it should be up and running again soon. My other site is still good though if you’d like some funky cloth and want to throw a few dollars towards me fixing my car. [ https://www.spoonflower.com/profiles/infamousdoctorf] I’ve got a paypal attached to nightshade518@yahoo.com as well. It’s going to be hard financially to keep all the bills paid, but I just couldn’t stand being near my abusive family anymore.

In conclusion. Take your giant cockroaches, fire ants, heat waves, and hurricanes; and go fuck yourself Galveston. Have fun with my awful relatives.

WA is home.

[callioope]

Questions Meme!

Hello, yes, this HAS in fact been sitting in my drafts for ages and ages. Thank you to both @crazy-fruit and @ruby-red-inky-blue for tagging me and for waiting forever for me to answer (oops)! I’m sorry I took so long, but y’all ask really good questions and I had to think about some of them!

Question Set 1

1. How are you?

Oh, I’m doing alright! Thank you for asking. The earlier part of this year was rather rough, but therapy has been helping. I’ve been rather busy these past few weeks with traveling, and my schedule going forward is rather busy, too, so while I’m excited for those things, I’m also excited for the eventual moment I can just relax.

2. What would you say are your talents?

Writing. Making fancy color-coded spreadsheets. I’ve been told that my super power is getting random (annoying) songs stuck in other people’s heads. Does that count as a talent? 

3. If you had the chance to start your life again, would you take it?

NOPE. No thanks. I like where I am at right now, and I would not want to relive my awkward years. Er, at least, my more awkward, younger years. Cuz I’m totally still awkward. Just less awkward. I hope?

4. Which language would you like to speak instantly? 

HMM. ALL OF THEM. It’s really hard to choose! 

Language fascinates me, and in another life I feel like I would have devoted a lot more time to learning more of them. Unfortunately, I really hated German class in high school because of the teacher’s tendency to put people on the spot -- I think that is sort of inherent in a language class, but I get anxiety speaking in public. 

Anyways, I suppose I’ll answer Turkish to this question, since spouse and I keep saying we’re going to try to learn Turkish via Duolingo. For the record, my HS offered six languages, which was the most I’ve ever heard of an American school offering, and I was always quite happy with my choice of German. (The others were Spanish, French, Italian, Chinese, and Latin.) I do wish I had maintained my German better, and I that I had more time to learn Spanish. 

5. Where would you like to be right now?

Honestly? I’m pretty happy when I’m at home. But if I had to answer where “else” would I like to be right now, out of the whole world? Being back on safari in Botswana is a top contender, as are a variety of places in Turkey, and also Munich. 

6. What name would you give yourself?

I’ve always liked my actual name (Elizabeth). I know I go by Liz; one of my HS friends was quite stubborn and I’m a bit stuck with it now, but I don’t mind it. There are worse nicknames that come from Elizabeth. I used to go by Fiona online; I’ve always been fond of that one. 

7. What is something you’re currently learning?

OOF, what a good question. I sorta blanked on this at first, and my first thought was uhhhh learning how to cope with my OCD??? I’m doing exposure therapy right now, ish. Emphasis on the ish. Also mindfulness. Does that really even count? I started a beginner’s knitting project several months ago that I never finished, does that count? (I just need to seam it, that’s what I’m putting off. I have knit plenty of scarves; however, this is my first hat.) I’m sort of teaching myself ukulele although I haven’t really learned any new chords or songs in awhile. I would very much like to take more photography classes with a focus on wildlife photography. That involves buying a new camera and... signing up for classes. 

Question Set 2

1. What is a detail in a piece of art/a text that you like that you really admire?

This was very difficult, at first because it was like looking at a bin full of loose things and just seeing an assortment of color and being overwhelmed by it all, and then because once I did start digging around, I kept finding different ideas and it was too hard too choose.

Character-building: In the A Song of Ice and Fire series, when Arya starts working for the House of Black and White, Martin stops using the name “Arya” as she dons different identities. For example, he uses “Cat” for a bit, among other names. It shows she’s trying to be someone else, but the caveat is that there are still little mannerisms and such that show she hasn’t really left Arya behind (I think maybe she bites her lip or something? I don’t remember specific examples because it’s been over 5 years since I read these books, but I do remember really appreciating the general technique at the time). 

Music: In The Beatles’ “I Want You (She’s So Heavy)” I love those repeated arpeggios, over and over, building, intensifying, as the white noise comes in and you can just feel the heaviness of desire, of want... (and then I love how it just breaks so suddenly! And I know it wouldn’t have been intended this way because that’s the end of side one, but since I listen to the whole album on spotify, then those bright chords of “Here Comes the Sun” come in and god Abbey Road is the best Beatles album)

Writing: the poetry of Florence + The Machine’s “All This and Heaven Too,” obviously, since literally the title of my blog comes from that. I’d quote that whole song honestly. There’s something that speaks to me about the incapability of language to fully encompass just... everything. I mean, love in specific here, but also just everything. Words are just these little boats we put meaning on and we hope they make it to the other side but everyone takes ‘em a little differently. 

Like, look at this: 

And the words are all escaping, and coming back all damaged And I would put them back in poetry if I only knew how 

And this: 

Words were never so useful So I was screaming out a language that I never knew existed before

Anyways, there’s also something just incredibly soothing about the music, too, and how she sings the song. There’s another line, from Sara Bareilles’ “Miss Simone” that goes “How does she know what a heart sounds like?” which pretty much sums up how I feel about “All This and Heaven Too” (and also many of Sara Bareilles’ song, especially that particular album, but I digress).

Anyways I did have some art examples, but I think I’ve rambled long enough.

2. Is there an idea that you really liked but had to discard because you couldn’t get it to work?

If I really like an idea, I don’t really “discard” it so much as put it on the shelf to attempt later. Out of recent fic ideas, I’ve really struggled with “How to Lose a Spy in 10 Days.” I first thought of this in late spring 2017, and for awhile I couldn’t stop thinking about it, but I was working on Whatever I Do at the time, and wanted to wait before starting another WIP. By the time I got to writing this, the inspiration well had sort of dried up. 

I really like the idea of a fun cat-and-mouse rom-com idea where Jyn and Cassian keep outsmarting each other, with a whole lot of competency kink, some “oh shit we actually work well together!” and maybe some battle couple. And I was really looking forward to both the moment when they both finally let their guards down around each other and the big confrontation when they actually find out each other’s identities. But it involved more mission writing than I was prepared for, and I really struggled with it. I think I need to start over but that involves a lot of working, so it’s unfortunately shelved for now, and I’m working on a “You’ve Got Mail” concept instead.

3. Is there something fandom-related you would like to be able to do (i.e. I’d like to be able to make gif sets but can’t)?

Oh, yes, absolutely! Really anything that’s not writing related, lol. Gif sets, art, etc. But most of all, I have a music video idea for the song “So Close” from Enchanted--like I have a whole story board plotted out in a google doc. But I don’t have any video editing software, don’t even know how you get the scenes for a music video, etc. I have made videos before, but not since high school, and I don’t even have the cheap, basic video editing program I used back then. Sometimes I think I should just attempt make a gif set instead, but there are so many lyrics! and scenes that go with the lyrics! that I don’t know how to consolidate it into that format anyways. 

4. What is a skill you’ve acquired through fandom work?

Hmm, this was tough. I’m going to say HTML. I’m not up-to-date on webdesign at all, but back in my early fandom days, I ran a few fansites. I still sometimes use HTML while leaving comments or to edit posts on dreamwidth or w/e. It’s super basic, but it has helped me at work at a variety of jobs. I take it for granted that people my age should know basic HTML, but a lot of them don’t, and then a lot of people I work with now are older and definitely not tech savvy. 

5. Do you think anyone can learn to create great art, or does it take talent?

Well, I’m going to cheat a little. I do think think that anyone can learn to create great art, but I also think that everyone has a talent at something, and part of learning to create great art is recognizing your skill sets and honing those. If that makes sense? I’ve sort of seen both sides to this. I’ve seen naturally talented people create great things, but I also think that they’re probably cheating themselves if they’re not learning and honing their craft and trying to get better. But I’ve also seen people who started out making things that maybe you wouldn’t call great, but they worked hard over and over again, and looking at their work now, you’d say they were talented without ever knowing the difference. Great art = talent + learning + passion. Did that even answer the question? ...moving on

6. Do you prefer AUs or in-universe? Why?

I prefer to write in-universe, for sure. I find modern AUs more challenging, mostly because--and I feel kinda bad saying this--it’s very difficult for me to tap into Jyn and Cassian’s characters without some kind of tragic background. Their experiences and how they coped with them shape their personalities, and it’s really hard to separate them from those. My WWII was easier because, hey, it’s war, not so different from in-verse. But I initially tried to write Learning Curve in a modern AU and I was just totally bored. Putting it in universe made it more interesting to me, especially having to finagle a happier plot inverse. IDK, it might even be that I generally struggle to make up any conflict in modern AUs that feels interesting.

THAT SAID, lol, I definitely read either. So it’s probably strange for me to be hung up on it because I’ve read nice fluffy modern AUs and found them perfectly engaging.

Tagging: @theputterer, @magalis, @allatariel, @mythologicalmango, @threadsketchier  MY USUAL DISCLAIMER APPLIES: no pressure if you just don’t wanna, AND if anyone sees this and was like “aw hey i wish she’d tagged ME” well guess what, I wish I did too! so go ahead and do it and let me know and then i’ll know to tag you next time, too :-) 

Questions:

When you suffer a setback or a series of setbacks when creating (writing, drawing, knitting, any kind of crafty project thing you work on... even work), what are some strategies you use to cope with that stress and move forward?

What’s the hardest thing you’ve ever had to create/make and what did you learn from it?

What part of a bicycle would you be?

What’s a helpful writing (art/crafting/work) technique you’ve learned?

What’s a piece of art that made you see things differently?

You’re a new addition to the crayon box. What color would you be and why?

What was the last board game you played and what did you like or not like about it?

*sorry these came out rather writer heavy!

[chrysaliseuro2019]

Shaken And A Little Bit Stirred

Our three weeks in Greece has gone by in the wink of an eye. We have loved all of it. While Milos has been our least favourite (but still very enjoyable), Folegandros was scenically stunning and the town intimate and magical. Little streets and alleys lead into squares and while tourists have definitely found it, it’s lovely to see the locals having hung on to their little houses, out on their porches in the evenings chatting away. The tourist crowd are mainly couples or families so no pumping dance music to detract from the gentle vibe.

The Peloponnese is a must-see and I hope this has come through in the blog. As a tourist in July wanting to go where the crowds aren’t this is the place. And there is something for everyone; history buffs, museum enthusiasts, hardy hikers or beach sloths. So much to see, so much to do and a month there would not feel too long.

But today we leave and it’s a mega travel day so up and about doing chores. First off was shuffling the odd piece of still damp washing on our balcony washing line (one of the small and welcome creature comforts of an extended holiday) to take full advantage of sun and breeze. Then packing of cases which is becoming increasingly strategic commensurate with additional purchases, followed by getting the hotel to print out our flight boarding passes. Breakfast, then the final odds ‘n sods into the cases in readiness for our lift from Hotel Riga’s to the port.

Hotel Rigas was delightful. While only 2 stars, the room and balcony were enormous. But the bathroom this time was the size of 2 telephone booths and only room for one person due to an oversized awkwardly placed door which to close you practically had to stand on the toilet. Fortunately after 36 years of marriage, modesty is a concern long forgotten. The staff were the real standout with brother Panos and Christos the front office charmers. But the real star of the show was the housekeeper, who when we returned to the room after our first day out, had hung up our clothes, put things away in cupboards and done a through tidy up. It felt like mum had been in doing a Spring clean . I wanted to pay her one way fare to Fergie Street.

Ferry due to leave at 11.25am and arrived only 10 minutes late which was a relief. Systematic disembarkment for the Milos foot passenger and car arrivals followed by and orderly boarding by those leaving. This was in stark contrast to the Athens leaving fiasco necessitating dashing hither and thither avoiding a reversing oil tanker, taxis, buses, boxes on the wharf, cases, the passenger carrying a canary in a cage and a lot of agitated passengers. Piraeus Port Authority could do worse than do a study trip to a few islands for a few tips on traffic management.

Ferry went via nearby islands Sifnos & Serifos gradually filling on its way to Piraeus. Happily the sea was calm and the boat steady with the 4 hours passing quickly and uneventfully. Food onboard was also worthy of mention for the wrong reason. We shared a smoked turkey, cheese and mayo sandwich. The less said about that the better.

The TVs were showing some FINA Watersport competitions including the Greeks versus the Sth Koreans at water polo. It was Goliaths vs The Punes. The score of 13-2 representative of the physical strength imbalance. Chris was surprised the Punes didn’t turn tail and head straight back to Sth Korea when they caught sight of their opposition. Next on were the prissy-glittery-glammed-up teams of synchronised swimmers. We were half watching it (Chinese coming first followed by the Japanese, who we thought only average, then Ukraine) when the TVs changed to another station. Because all Greek discussion is loud and intense (and our Greek has not progressed beyond yassas and efcharistó) we had no idea whether it was the Midday Show, a regular news bulletin or some current affairs show. With no more synchronised swimming our books got 100% attention until we docked at 3.30pm.

Things were going too well for them to last. So they didn’t. With our ferry due at Piraeus at 3.30pm and our flight to Rome via Trieste due to depart at 7.10pm it was going to be a bit tight to take a train so we’d contacted a car transfer company which sends quotes. First quote arrived on Tuesday for £65 then decreased incrementally over the 3 days to £30. There seemed to be no time limit as to when you could accept the offer so we made sure the ferry was (a) going at all and (b) not delayed before we committed. As soon as we sailed we booked the transfer and emailed the driver to confirm the booking advising what ferry we were on expecting someone to be there when we arrived

Needless to say they weren’t. Port of Piraeus is not our happy place. Meanwhile my phone reconnected to the internet and I received a message from our niece asking if we were ok after hearing about the earthquake. I didn’t think anything more of it.

Meanwhile I put in a phone call to our organised driver who knew nothing of the booking and said he would call me back. Five minutes and no call back so I called him back only for it to ring out. Chris called him but the +44 English prefix probably gave it away cos he didn’t pick up that call either. So several calls to the company who didn’t seem be able to sort a driver resulting in my ire being raised about taking bookings that can’t be filled etc. We await a refund. But the bigger problem was time was on the wing and it was now 4.30pm so we went in search of a taxi.

Taxis in the port area were all pre booked so we found a taxi rank and asked the price. €80/$120!! Tell them they’re dreaming! Already pissed off about pre-booked driver no-show I got into a debate with the driver saying “We would take the taxi and trust the metre”. His bluff was ”It would be more expensive”. I countered “That would work better for you and we’ll take our chances”. His final response was “Take the bus lady” so we walked off in principle. (Think Chris reading my mood thought silence was his safest option.) I asked his mate also in the taxi queue but it was clearly a cartel cos he looked sheepish as he quoted the same which saved him losing face in front of his thieving mate. At this stage I thought my principles might cost us dearly with a missed flight (and I’d have a lot of apologising to do and a lot of extra Holmesglen shifts to cover the cost of lost flights) when we tried to flag down a taxi joining the rank who waved us off. But sometimes sticking to your guns pays off because a little modern Mercedes came around the corner driven by a taxi angel called Lorenzo who stopped as we waved him down. Quote €50. Deal! As he was loading the bags Lorenzo excitedly asked us if we’d felt the earthquake. So this explained the change of TV programming and the text message checking in on us. At around 2pm central Athens had experienced a 5.6 earthquake followed by aftershocks. We googled it and sure enough it was Athens’ first earthquake since the one in 1990 which resulted in 146 deaths and many more injured. Lorenzo who was driving through the city at the time said you don’t feel the movement of an earthquake when driving so he wasn’t aware what was happening. He said people were running out of buildings and dropping to the ground causing him to wonder if it was a terrorist attack. Fortunately there seemed to be no damage and deaths this time.

We were finally on our way to the airport with Lorenzo who determined the usually fast freeway route was jammed (we assumed as a response to the earthquake) taking 1.45 hours so the slower coastal route was a better option. The traffic around Piraeus was appalling but this bloke had the same traffic mindset as Chris....never, ever, ever sit in a traffic jam. We belted down bumpy narrow backroads made even narrower with cars parked on either side as we avoided the bottleneck around the port. The traffic was still heavily congested but our driver took every advantage of space by cutting in at the front of queues, forming extra turning lanes etc. It was quite the performance.

Not only was he determined to deliver us to the airport on time, he loved a chat. He was an Albanian in his mid 30’s married to a Greek with with two primary school aged children. He had been a semi professional soccer goalkeeper and along with taxi driving worked as a goal keeper coach. He proudly told us that only goal keepers can coach the skills of goal keeping. Lorenzo kept us entertained with stories saying when he was young he was popular because he wanted to play keeper whereas it was usually the fat kids who were lumped into that role because all the aspiring Ronaldos wanted to be the goal kicking stars. Another one we enjoyed was that his father used to regularly dink him 24 kilometres on the back of his pushbike in Albania to see a soccer match. The distance wasn’t the only issue as the roads built by the Italians post WW2 hadn’t received any attention from the communist government leaving them rutted, potholed and crumbling. Lorenzo and his dad’s bums must have been black and blue after those 48 kilometre round trips. He was also very interested in our lives so by the time we arrived at the airport at 5.50pm we were thoroughly relaxed with our faith in taxi drivers restored. We happily handed him €60 which he thought generous. We felt certain we were on the better end of that deal.

Flight to Trieste had a Rome stopover. The first leg to Rome left on time and was fine. After landing when the seat belt lights were switched the bloke beside me on the window side stood impatient to get off and leaned all over the top of me breathing heavily - he was not a small man. Usually I would get up too but with leg room being tight and row 24 being towards the back of the plane I stayed seated waiting for the 23 rows ahead to get themselves organised. This did not please bully boy next to me. After putting up with him literally right over the top of me panting I eventually stood at my middle seat. He took this as an opportunity to lean over me attempting to reach up into the luggage hold to drag his oversized case down. With the two irksome experiences at Piraeus still rankling I was not in the mood to be hassled. I refused to move and pushed back against him thwarting his attempts. When I finally moved out toward the aisle he reached over and dragged the case down telling me to move off before the people from the row in front. I told him in no uncertain terms I wasn’t moving until they were out of their seats in to aisle. Could excuse him if he was a peasant or had another flight to catch, but indeed he was well dressed and did not go to transit when we got off. That made 3 strikes with the no-show and thieving taxi driver so my patience was sorely tested.

Fortunately for everyone, probably most of all Chris who’s cage doesn’t generally get as rattled as mine, we had a spare seat for the next flight.

Landed at Trieste just before 11pm so had been on the go for 12 hours. Luggage arrived quickly making a dash to catch the 11.15pm train possible. We arrived at the station with the train pulling in. However we hadn’t had a chance to purchase tickets and with the machine caught in a loop, the train stopping for less than a minute and the guard less than helpful with advice we had to let it go. The only tip he gave us was not to buy the tickets on train as they were €50 more expensive that way (sounds to me like a euphemism for fine). Gave up on the train, taxis €60 (A$100) so not prepared to pay that. Instead we waited and caught the bus whose ticket machine also wasn’t working. No machine =no pay. Suited us. Took 45 minutes to get to TriesTe central station but enjoyed talking to a young helpful Slovenian man who had lived in Sydney for 3 months and a young Romanian woman who works as a purser on one of the small cruise boats that was hit by the big liner in Venice recently. Fortunately for her she was on leave at the time.

Grateful that Chris had booked our hotel not 5 minutes walk from Central Station. To top it all off our room stunk off cigarette smoke and the window shutters refused to open. Night manager couldn’t open them either so a quick move into neighbouring room which proved to be far nicer. Needless to say both knackered. Hope the travel Gods go gently on us tomorrow.

[brattywriters-anonymous]

Spectacle. II

@chaneajoyyy

Inspired by our favorite hip hop couple, Offset and Cardi.

I was arguing with my best friend about what he did on her rolling loud set. I’m just gonna write this with Erik x OC (Black! OC);

Erik is a rapper as OC is a rising star. They recently married and his indiscretions have been publicly known via social media, Erik makes multiple attempts to make up for it.

June, 2018:

Erik Stevens, Stage Name: E. Kill. 31 years old. Married to Raelynn Stevens (Maiden, Johnson) They share one child, a 4 month-old Named Kire (Pronouced KYE-REE) Stephens.

Raelynn Stevens, Stage Name: Rae. 29 years old. Married to Erik Stevens. She and Erik share a daughter, 4 month-old Kire Stevens.

December 1, 2017

I woke up to the sun was on the opposite side of the house so I knew it was around 4 or 5 in the afternoon. All I could hear was a whispering back and forth between Shawna and Erik.

“I been calling her! I thought she was gone! I damn sure didn’t think she would wreck my shit!” “What did you think was gonna happen? You thought you were gonna come home to a home cooked meal, decent conversation, and some pregnant pussy? You had an affair, Erik. That’s worse than just fucking some slide tossing her some hundreds and never hearing from her again. You had this girl around you. You traveled for this girl. You traveled with this girl. You didn’t even tell Rae everything.” “If I told her everything, she’d burn this whole damn house down! You know that Shawna.” I shoot up from the couch yawning.

“Tell me what?” I direct the question at Shawna. Erik shoots over to me, bending to check on me, “Hey baby, how you doing?” My husband attempts to grab my hand, I push his hand away with my bandaged right one. “I wasn’t talking to you. What happened to my hand?” Shawna sits next to me, “Hey babes, don’t worry about all of that right now. How’s Kire?” I rubbed my belly, “She woke me up so, she’s good.” Out the corner of my eye I see Erik reaching out for me. “N’jadaka. Do yourself a favor, don’t touch me.” He stands up, “How you wanna move forward Rae? Because I love you. I want my family. Give me the chance to fight for it.”

It’s not until Shawna hands me some toilet paper that I realize I am crying, “I need time. Get out.” He grabs a bag I’m sure he packed while I was sleeping and exits through the front door, as he opens the door, paparazzi floods our front porch. I hang my head low, mortified and wondering how I’ll ever get out of my home. “How am I gonna get through this?” My bestie comforts me in a tight hug, “With help, mami. That’s how. Ya team gotchu baby. Believe that.”

--

December 2, 2017

My assistant Nessa strolls through my backdoor, knowing paparazzi weren’t that indecent to bum-rush my backyard, in awe. “Damn Rae, what happened in here?” I fold my arms shrugging watching TMZ covering my family’s demise for a second time. “I blacked out by the time I was swinging at the records in there”, I nonchalantly point at the dining room. She turns her attention to that, “Daayym! Did somebody burglarize ya spot?” I shake my head, “Nah. I did this. Fucked up that r8 in the garage too.” “What happened? You wouldn’t just do this finding out what happened with that chickenhead.” She holds her hands out looking for answers.

“E came home.” She sucks her teeth, “Forty-Eight Hours Later!” Her spongebob commentator accent makes me crack up at her silly ass, “I needed that” She clings onto me, “I know, boo. I’m sorry he had to be an asshole. How’s the baby?” “The baby is fine!” I succeed in keeping the sex a secret from my assistant, once again. “Dammit, I’m gon catch you off guard! I hope it’s a baby girl so we can get her fly like her momma!” I blush at her correct guess, “Anyway, let me work a miracle. Go take a seat!” I stroll upstairs to retreat back to my baby’s room.

--

When I reach the top of the steps I looked at the closed door to our bedroom, it had a folded paper in between it. I snatch it out of its place, it was a photo of our wedding picture we took after we eloped in the chapel in Las Vegas.

“Baby lets just do it!” Erik’s tipsy slur was apparent, “Do what, N’jadaka?” “Let’s get married babyy. Be my wife!” “Nigga, what?” He got on one knee in the middle of a busy Las Vegas strip, “You know I love you baby. More that I’ve ever loved any woman. I’m tired of spending time without you! We on tour at different times, back in LA at different times! I’m ready for us to live in our home. I’m ready to put a baby in yo fine ass, Rae.” I protested, “I think not! Boy, you tried it!” He sucked his teeth, “I’m gettin’ yo ass pregnant! Anyway, I’m ready to spend the rest of my life witchu babe. Let me make an honest woman of you tonight.” He pulled out my ring, “Baby, it’s just a band!” He shrugged, “Since we getting married tonight, I figured we’ll work our way up to the wedding ring.” I giggled, “Cocky ass, you just know Imma say yes?” “Will you?” I nodded, “Yes. Yes, N’jadaka!”

I love you. I love Kire. I love our family. Please don’t give up on us.

E.

I swing the door open, “Shawna!” “Yes?” “Can you come up here please?” She met me in my room, “What’s up Rae?” “What was everything that E didn’t tell me?” she sighs, “Uhm, have a seat.” “I’m so tired of people telling me what the fuck to do! I want to stand! Tell me what he’s done, Shawna. Please? I can’t know what I’m doing if I don’t know everything!” She leans on the dresser. I hear my google alerts go off, “Has Rae fallen off the edge? What the fuck?” I click the notification which had a picture of the damaged r8 rolling out of our garage. Nessa jets to my room, “Girl. I had to get that car to the dealership! I’m sorry, they’re closing in less than an hour and if I didn’t get it there today it wasn’t gonna be ready until after the holidays.” “No. No. You good Ness. You’re doing your job! Thank you.” She exhales a sigh of relief, “Okay, cool. What’s going on though? Feels like I’m missing something.”

Shawna clears her throat, “Uhm.. So E. Solace didn’t expose everything that happened. She didn’t wanna publicly put that out, she wanted to have a conversation with you.” “With me? Tuh! The broad has nothing to say to me.” Shawna continues, “In May, she found out she was pregnant.” I blinked a few times, “Excuse me?” “E fucked up Rae. He got her pregnant. He immediately told her to get an abortion, her being an IG model and scared that a pregnancy was gonna ruin her image, she went through with it in July.”

--

Erik’s POV

I turn on my TV to see my wife being bombarded by paps on TV, her round shape shades covering her eyes, “Rae, have you decided what you’re gonna do about E’s indiscretions?” “Rae, are you gonna get a divorce?” “Rae, did you speak with Solace?” She ignored every inquiry walking into the Beverly Center. I get a notification on my phone, a text from Shawna, “E. Rae’s new number is 310-021-2231.” I texted her.

I’m on my way. Meet me at Farmhouse, please?

Rae Bae: Yeah. LMK when you get here.

That was simple. Too simple. Mac emerges from his kitchen, “Wassup, homie?” “I’m about to meet up with Rae.” He stops in his path, “Woah, you sure she not gon come at you with a bat?” I flinch at the mention, “Man, nah. We in public. She not gon go off the handle like that!” “Man whatever! Rae Rae went cray cray and whooped yo ass! And the r8?! Your other bae?! That was petty. She bought it!” I shake my head, “I think that’s why she destroyed it. She knew I had ol girl in it.” “My nigga.. I know you not that dumb.” “Yeah. I am.” Mack palms his face, “Wow.. Just... wow. Well, good luck on that meeting. I’d keep my distance. Sit at the longest table they got in that bitch!”

My phone rings, I see my wife’s face on the screen.

--

Rae’s POV

I’m just having the week from hell! My husband’s been cheating on me, it’s in the public eye, I got shows to do for the next month, I need to get in the studio, and now I lost my phone somewhere in this damn mall! This stress and prego brain has taken my irritation to an all time high. “Are Rae and you gonna work things out? Is she pissed off at you? Where are those bruises from, man?” N’jadaka simply answers, “Look, I’m having dinner with my wife, Hope you have a good evening.” I turn around to see him waving off the cameraman, “Hi.” “Hello, beautiful. How you holding up?” “I’m alright. Lost my phone today, but I’m good.”

N’jadaka digs into his pocket and pulls out my phone, “You left it in Saint Laurant. An employee used a picture of you to unlock it and called me.” “You get her number too?” He nudges me, “C’mon Rae. You know I didn’t.” “Whatever, Your daughter is hungry. Let’s go.”

--

The tension in the private room is so thick, it can get cut with a phone charger cord. I requested the waiter leave us a pitcher of water so he wouldn’t have to come in back and forth to check on us. Because I don’t need my business being spread all over the tabloids regarding my private life.

“Baby, talk to me. I haven’t ever seen you so quiet.”

I take a large piece of salmon and engulf it, “You got her pregnant.” “I--” “Think about your answer..before you think about lying.” he sighs, “I did.” “Did you tell her you were leaving me?” “Rae, it don’t matter--” “IT DOES MATTER, N’JADAKA!” “I didn’t tell her I was gonna leave. I told her that we weren’t as serious as we were in the beginning.” Erik is sitting on the opposite end of the dinner table, on purpose I’m sure.. That doesn’t stop me from trying to throw a plate at his head. The plate clashes with the wall, “Oh, so being married and having a child on a way isn’t serious to you?” I chuck the silverware at him, “I can’t fucking believe you!” “I was telling her what she wanted to hear! It was words with no action behind it!”

“Why? Why did you do this to me? To us?” He hangs his head low, “I’m scared. I’m scared of this fatherhood shit. I know I foreshadowed this when I proposed, but it becoming a reality is freaking me out. I guess I was running from it. I called it off with her before our shower.” I take one final bite of my meal, “It’s funny how you say you’re scared. You’ve been to every doctor’s appointment, you’ve been talking to her, reading to her, singing and rapping to her. You’ve been the father that she needs. And behind my back, you haven’t been the partner I need. You’ve been cheating on me my entire pregnancy. Now all of a sudden as of last month, you want your family? Nah. You gon have to show me. Until then, stay where you at. I’ll sync our calendars before I leave for doctor’s appointments. Other than that.. I’ll mail your shit to Mack’s place.”

“Are we over? We throwing away two years like that? Over some hoe I don’t even want?” “Don’t ever forget, YOU DID THIS.” I sync our calendars as I finish my statement. “Don’t contact me. When I need to see you, I’ll let you know.” I rise from my seat, flip over my plate and exit, stage left, through the restaurant’s back door, avoiding paparazzi.

--

Okay, III Is going to be the last one (I promise! It’s gonna tie everything together and Rae’s POV between how E got her back... ya’ll gon see, ya’ll gon see.)

[redpepperlips]

How I met my Fiancé

Many of you wanted me to do a blog post on how I met my Fiancé. To be honest, this journey was never easy, we’ve been through a lot but it wasn’t shown, or maybe it did but it wasn’t obvious enough. I met my Fiancé through Xxx , to me, it was all about finding someone to chat with ; an accompanyment. That’s how my impression to my Fiancé was like initially, I did not give much hope, just chat and let nature take its course. We decided to meet up, 2 days before Valentine’s day, to even catch 50 Shades Darker on our first meet in Platinum Suite @ Cathay Cineleisure. He even gave me 1 stalk of Preserved Red Rose & a card stating “You have my number, so call me maybe?” & I still remember he ordered Basil Chicken Rice & Red Wine (And gave me the red wine after the movie ended). Come to think of it now, he don’t even drink.... Yes so after the movie, he sent me home via cab & went home himself after. Our conversation got mundane and dry after the first meetup, a normal reaction of an insecurity me goes “Yeah you don’t like me after you’ve seen me in real life right ?” And his reply was like a very boring no , a very different vibe from before we’ve met. Maybe I was just thinking too much & I felt so devastated I started an argument to ask him to stop texting me further. But things proved otherwise, we met up a few times more and this time, I guessed our feelings were mutual then.  2 Days before my Birthday, we went to Universal Studios Singapore. It was really awkward, until we rode Human & I told him I was very scared whilst on the ride, he led out his hand and I held his hand throughout the whole ride. We didn’t let go of our hands till we reached my house. Bid goodbye & thats where we both confirmed our relationship to be together as a couple (20th February 2017). The honeymoon period begins, until one day he decided to bring me home to his mum, I had a tattoo on my forearm, two on my back & I don’t bothering covering it up for the one on my forearm because afterall, every of his family members will have to accept me for who I am & not just base on my appearance, I got judged & was told to not go up to his house again. I was really hurt, but he assured me that everything will be ok eventually because his mum was more traditional. Things went up and down, sometimes his mum was ok to me, sometimes she was not. I did told him my unhappiness and I nearly gave up this relationship. It was too much for me, like I live not to please others, why can’t she just accept the way I am & not thinking that I’m some Ahlian that will led her son astray ?  Things do get better eventually, but when I was allowed in their house again, for the first few times, I kept on wearing long sleeves shirt / dress to cover myself up. Not easy I will say, but anything to leave a good impression for his Mum. One day, I decided not to cover myself up anymore & bravely went up to their house. Surprisngly, his mum did not say anything, everything went smoothly, me and my Fiancé still argue sometimes, but due to other matters. 1 Year plus had passed & I felt like ok, he should be the one for me and so we decided to sign up a Wedding Photoshoot Package & placed a deposit. The very excited me went on to google on their reviews / photos etcetc & was telling him how excited I felt because it will be with him and it was like my dream came true. Him on the other hand, doesn’t felt the same way like I do, we quarreled really badly as he mentioned, he didn’t think of such future plans because he wanted to focus on his studies first. I thought that he would be as excited as me but in return, I got his cold shoulder instead. In the back of my mind, this guy was not ready for the future, why should I be bothered with creating a future with him ? Again, I nearly gave up this relationship. After we’ve cooled down, I never mentioned about the Wedding Photoshoot with him, ever again.  We just went on with our lives as per normal, living life happily & during around Dec 2018, he asked if I wanted to try applying BTO with him. We did, but we didn’t managed to get to our ideal unit. We gave up our choice & decided to wait till the next one comes along. This was when business get serious as he had also completed his studies. He kept emphasizing that he will want to secure a house first, before talking about wedding plans. He even said, if we did managed to get our first-applied BTO unit, he will propose to me in Japan & when we didn’t managed to get what we wanted, I knew he wasn’t going to propose anymore, not expecting anything but I knew I had to wait longer, it’s fine with me.  One month ago, we went to Japan with his group of friends for their Graduation Trip for 11 days. On Day 3, we went to Tokyo Disneysea. Nothing suspicious from him or his friends, everything was normal. The act was indeed very good. We had our dinner & after dinner, his friend’s Gf told us to remember to go see the Fireworks at 8.30pm and that she will see us there (He wanted to propose there, in front of such a huge crowd). To me, it was nothing special, in my mind “Aiya, I get to see for the whole month of every Saturday before the actual National Day, what’s so interesting ? Never see before Fireworks meh?” So I heck care & went shopping, it was quiet indeed & that was the best time I can do my shopping peacefully without having to squeeze with the crowd. Shops were one after another & I told my Fiancé that I’m going one after another. Normally, he will let me do the shopping until I’m done, but this time he said “HUH YOU WENT SO MANY & YOU’RE NOT DONE ?” I did not care & went on cause I’m stubborn like that. Finally I’m done & it was already 9.30pm, his friend was like “If we don’t speed up, we will need to cab back to our hotel already” I was ok cause it was already kinda late. My Fiancé told his friends that we should take a group photo and find somewhere where there is not so many people, we gathered in front of the Disneysea’s globe. Since the rest were packing their buys from Disneysea, my Fiancé told his friend to help the both of us take a photo first. After taking the photo, he told me to wait and not to go off first, I thought the rest were going to join us for a photo & asking a stranger to take a photo for us. NO, he questioned me “Just now you asked me what’s my dream right ?” Oh & because I bought a Stellalou Popcorn Bucket & there’s this quote “What is your dream?” Such coincidence !!  There, he took out the Photo Frame, a Rose Stalk Ring Box, kneeled down & pop the question “Will you marry me ?” I cried in tears of joy, I was trembling and didn’t expect him to propose !! I was very touched & surprised. I was lost for words. Even those passerbys clapped for us, I didn’t know what to say! Yes, thats when we got engaged on 12th June 2019. :’) Coming back to SG with a different status, it was really memorable & it will be forever in my heart. I really didn’t expect such surprise & I really want to thank his friends for all the effort & time in planning this. :) :)  And for now, we are very happily engaged. Planning for our future together & nope, I am not pregnant by any chance. :)  P/s: Did you know, I was his first girlfriend ? *Giggles* 

[terrablaze514]

Being Black + R. Kelly, Living With Secrets, and Writing Catatonic Fanfics

Hey everyone.

I'm up extra early, because this is bugging my mind and heart right now. The words might leave if I don't voice (write) it.

In a few hours, I'll be going to church again. Christian, yes. Predominantly Black, you've guessed it. Both of these cancel each other out. Why?

Despite my suspicions growing up, the vast majority of Black people I knew (family, friends, acquaintances, etc.) were still jamming to R. Kelly's music. It makes all the more sense why he's known as, "The Pied Piper", and that's scary as buck if you stop to think about it.

I've never understood why he was permitted to keep making music. Why the buck does Wendy Williams still have an audience? Why did 2Pac and Michael Jackson get destroyed by false allegations (until their sunset), while R. Kelly is still a free man in the music industry with proof of sexual deviance in multiple court cases?

I was 7 when I was molested by a grown woman. I couldn't approach my parents about it, because she became a close friend to my mother, got closer to other notable family friends, and I was already misunderstood at school and church (Grade 2 was a horrible year). My parents were also coming to terms with their breakup, so it didn't help (because what if they had another physical altercation?). Top that with the ongoing belief that men were innately predators...

October 2018, I've had a nightmare of her stalking me while visiting my hometown (the 514) - woke up in a sweat, purchased Black Panther on Google Play Movies, and watched the movie until my eyes shut again... Because mentally, I needed to feel safe. I wanted Wakanda's protection. And I ended up getting it in my dreams (occasionally). M'Baku and The Jabari Tribe are the best!

Back on topic... So, while I'm happy that justice is happening, I'm also disappointed. Deeply disappointed in The Black Community for sweeping this issue under the rug.👏🏾Every.👏🏾 Single.👏🏾Time.👏🏾 I understand firsthand why it's hard to come forward. Allow me to explain (and these are some of the reasons why going to church is a farce in my book).

I've shared with a few Gundam Wing fans (via Discord) that I've sung in three choirs (four if school curriculum counts). To this day, I still jam to my favourite songs and sing as a secret means to calm down when times are too stressful (and if I have no access to a pen and notebook). So why bring this up? Simply put, during my tenure in the third choir, I was spanked and grabbed on the buttocks for holding the door open for an elderly man. [This isn't funny, so if you're laughing, check yourself or leave my blog ASAP]. Not only did this trigger my fear and cripple my confidence as a young adult, but I wasn't able to focus. I've felt scared... Moreso when I've relayed the incident to a few choir members. They've laughed it off, because it sounded funny to them.

It didn't help that this also happened a week after one of my closest friends had died from cancer (and I couldn't make it to his funeral). So being forced to laugh it off, take it with a grain of salt, and keeping it moving wasn't easy. Also, being Black means you don't cry. "Stay strong," is all people would ever say.

I've also been approached and stalked by some strange men, around my age (no older than 27). I'd be waiting at the bus stop so I can commute to work. Strange man shows up, and requests (to the point of begging) that I take the taxi with him. One week later, he begs me to skip work and come over to his place. For what, only God knows. I didn't go, but I've sent text messages to friends. The majority of them found it funny - except one, who also called to check up on me. If it were up to him, he'd drive across town and set the stalker straight.

That was then.

There was a fellow co-worker (cisgender woman) who used to touch, or feel up my inner thighs and buttocks without my consent, and in the presence of customers. How many times have I reported her, yet supervisors promoted her, and would say, "That's her way of giving people props."

What the heck?

Then, by the time I was 25, I've reached my breaking point despite graduating from college and acquiring two careers to call my own. My physical appearance (gaining weight), marital status ("let's find a boyfriend for you on WhatsApp Messenger"), and popularity were the only things that mattered. Damn it all to the grave.

Dating prospects were more like, groomers. And they were all Christian Churchians.💯 I've never given up the V-card, but I've tried to fit in to the point of mental starvation and social exhaustion. In the worst case scenario, I've heard adults (including a parent) poke rape jokes. What's so funny about that?

We sure as hell did not deserve Aaliyah, because the ignorance is real.

I've ended up writing a fanfic project that deals with the music industry, and emphasizes deep comparisons between a good rep team versus an evil rep team, by pulling bits and pieces of experiences by real artists, as well as my "inability to be more transparent/speak up/get out of my shell", and conceptions of what could go wrong if there was no access to a healthy outlet... Combined them into the realities of the characters I'm borrowing. It's still in progress; I'm a perfectionist, yet, the story needs to be told.

There's a second project where two cousins grow up together in the kingdom, get separated after the death of a family member, and the elder cousin searches for his bestie in America. Friendships are formed, but there's also a rampant rape culture against girls in the community where his cousin took residence... Pedophiles will get killed after witnessing the dismissal of reports by police. Go figure.

Writing these types of things, is an outlet. I don't condone abuse, murder, things of that dark nature, but honestly. I grew up in a rape culture. I need a healthy way to deal with (process) that.

Talking about it to people is only safe enough in therapy sessions. Outside of that, get laughed at. Mocked. Told that You deserve it (or did something to deserve it).

I've contemplated suicide last month. Resurfaced memories do more harm than good... And even if I followed through on December 29th (I'm glad I didn't), everything in this post, especially the woman predator who was a babysitter, is the secret I would've taken to my grave. Who could I talk to without feeling unsafe or unwelcome? Without laughing it off in a dismissive manner? Without assuming that I've done something to deserve it, like forgetting to pull on my panties first?

No one.

I've been taught that my big butt, juicy thighs, bust... Yet fat belly, rolls on my back, and somewhat bouncy arms, are something to be ashamed of. From 14 to 23, I used to sport Beyoncé's figure (used to be slimmer)... Yet I still had to feel guilty for embracing that, because if I didn't cover up... If I walked out late... If I didn't keep up with trends... if I didn't turn up for what... If I didn't drop it like it's hot, turn around and bump bump bump, my body too bootylicious for 'em, 'cause if it's worth it lemme work it... And whenever I did these things...

I am guilty.

Now that I'm older, and I don't do these things as often...

I am still guilty.

Because I grew up in a community and a society that hates rapists and pedophiles while making excuses for rapists and pedophiles if I spoke up. If other girls and women spoke up. If boys and men came forward with their true accounts without receiving homophobic comments, or the overused, "You became a real man, congratulations!" Canada's Supreme Court will not keep a sex predator behind bars for more than ten years. That's all the additional proof you need.

The hypocrisy was real, and it still is.

There was an incident where a little girl complained about a church elder touching her... No one believed her.

Later on in my teens, a teenage boy was falsely accused of sexual harassment, and everyone believed the lie (except his closest friends, whom told her to stop following them around).

Another church elder (and a Bible thumper), fondled my breasts out of spite - and my mother blamed me! The next time I've seen that elder, I've set her straight, but who the hell am I for talking? She's still the most respected because she knows every scripture passage, from Genesis to Revelation, and also knows every volume, word for word, from The Spirit of Prophecy. So she has no sin...

THE LIES!

I was nervous shaky the entire time.

So growing up Black, in a church community, as a girl (now a woman) had many catastrophes. I'm not crazy for putting this out there, just keeping it real. I'll be in church in approximately less than three hours from now, and if anyone cracks jokes or makes demeaning comments about R. Kelly's current and former victims, talking about how they're fast, and how they should've come forward... Nah, Hollywood gets away with sexual deviance against minors. A large percentage of them have bought R. Kelly's music, at music stores and on iTunes/Google Play Music. No surprise, huh? As much as I love my church family, I cannot accommodate the ignorance that's gone on for my whole life so far. *Sigh* This has blackened my heart, I just... I am at a loss, not only for R. Kelly's victims, but every child and youth who will be targeted by men and women who cannot be trusted.

I will always support Black Empowerment, Black Lives Matter and Black History... But I have zero tolerance for the enabling of pedophiles and rapists. Even the jokes. It's distasteful.

If you are a supporter/apologist of R. Kelly, Sparkle, Marques Houston, and any other person who'd used/subjected minors to assault and/or grooming, get off my page. And stop pretending to be a huge Aaliyah fan... We've lost her because the adults in her life had failed in exchange for her fame. We also owe Michael Jackson's family an apology for destroying his character and career under false allegations, while R. Kelly was still a free man, preying on girls and grooming boys to become like him... And all the evidence of his crimes were readily available on the archives while I was in Junior High. While we're at it, Kitti Jones and Drea Kelly need to take several seats. They've had every opportunity to approach the police. They've known what R. Kelly did to all those girls and how it's destroyed their youth. They are the poorest examples of how to put sex offenders in their place, just so they can get money now that #MeToo (who never gave a damn about half of your experiences, unless you were penetrated by a man)... Nuh-uh! The lives that were destroyed by rape, molestation, grooming and exploitation matter more than the money anyone might make from a case that should've been dealt with decades ago! My heart is very heavy throughout this post. I know it's Sabbath hours, but I'm currently listening to "Don't Stay" by Linkin Park, because it truly reflects my thoughts and memories, in the wake of #SurvivingRKelly.

Everyone (especially Black people) who put on R. Kelly during weddings and birthday celebrations, I've taken notes. You will not be trusted around my future children (if it's meant to be). I've never healed, yet. The community does not offer a safe space to heal from the damage that's been done. So when I hear about Chester Bennington (Linkin Park -I hope I spelled his name right), AJ and Nick (Backstreet Boys - their parents stood up for their sons), B2K (especially Raz-B), IMx, Sammy, O'Ryan, the victim of Brock Turner, a few victims of Bill Cosby and that actor from 7th Heaven, the young girl who was sexually assaulted and exploited by that loser who was granted a chance to finish up his studies at UofC (University of Calgary), Natasha McKenna who was stripped, dehumanized and tasered in her last moments by eight men, the former victims of Eddie Long who were forcibly silenced, the girl who was raped, hospitalized and raped again in the hospital by her father and brother... This is real ish. I have no more words. Leave my page if you support R. Kelly... Special shoutout to John Legend for keeping it real. Another special shoutout to Terry Crews who spoke up. To the victims of Harvey Weinstein and Kevin Spacey, you also need to get your voices heard, because you also matter. To the victims of Ryan Seacrest, the same also applies. May Corey Haim Rest in Power, because Charlie Sheen is getting his just reward for what he did decades ago. Although I'm glad B2K is reuniting for tour, I've been conflicted with how R. Kelly wrote your popular hits. That wasn't your fault, though. Your former manager (Chris Stokes - another pedophile) had that set up for your grooming - good thing y'all left TUG behind when you did. Other artists and notable faces in the entertainment industry - you don't have to comment, but I beseech you to STOP collaborating with R. Kelly. What he did to those girls is beyond me. If you keep enabling him, you're now guilty for proving that rape is okay.

It is not.💯

[lobsters-on-their-heads]

Continuing Travels of Cophine, Part 2, Chapt. 10

Disclaimer reminder: I haven't been to the Middle East, so if I've gotten some details wrong, please let me know in a respectful manner. This chapter and the upcoming ones involved some interesting research, and I've tried talking to people who've been there, but of course things slip through sometimes. Let me know!

You can read the entire work from the very beginning here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12116799

The night after the party, after a small dinner at Sarah's house, Cosima and Delphine rode with Sarah to the airport as cold evening rain peppered the city. Most of the trip was silent, with Cosima in the front seat and Delphine in the back with their carry-on bags. Delphine had spent most of the day recovering and doing a great unintentional impression of a cartoon sloth, but the after-effects of last night's brownies had worn off by late afternoon, and she was more or less back to her usual self.

As the airport infrastructure came into view, Sarah sniffed loudly and rubbed her nose.

“You gonna be a'right, then?” she asked.

Cosima peeled her face from the passenger side window and blinked at her sister. “Yeah. Yeah, we're gonna be fine. Why?”

“No reason.”

Sarah steered the car towards International Departures and sucked on her teeth.

“We will have personal security from the moment we arrive in Baghdad,” Delphine assured her. “It's a highly reviewed company, personally recommended by our contacts both here and abroad.”

“Yeah, I know.” Sarah rubbed her nose some more and the airport itself came into view. “I would feel a bit better if Helena went along with you, though, to be honest.”

Cosima laughed and imagined Helena following them around the Middle East. Hell, just getting her through airport security would be a trick to write home about. Putting a hand on Sarah's shoulder, Cosima said, “Do not worry about us. We're okay with what we have, and Helena needs to stay here with her boys. And don't go reading too many news stories about the places we're going to, either.”

Sarah laughed. “Not often someone accuses me of reading too much. Anyway, it's not me. It's the kids, reading up on every place you two go off to. I've got Alison on my case, too, telling me every little horror story she sees online –”

“Yes, we've heard,” Delphine cut in. “She's been on our cases, too.”

“She's calmed down recently, though,” Cosima added.

“And Art,” Sarah went on, like the words were being pushed from her body against her will. “He's coming to me every week with some other story he heard from one of the translators about someone's brother getting his head cut off, or somebody's sister being sold off to IS for God knows what. It's not like I just can't listen, Cos.”

The car wound its way into the departures lane and down the alphabet of airlines as everyone thought about what Sarah had said. Aer Lingus, Air Canada, Air France...

“Well,” Cosima said, “just remember, and tell everybody else this, too, that the stuff that makes the news, and the stories people tell, are the exceptions. I mean, yeah, obviously it happens, but not every day. Aid workers go in and out of Iraq and Syria every day without getting any more than a paper cut or a couple of nasty pimples.”

“We're being careful,” Delphine added. “We're being very careful.”

Sarah made a face. “Right.”

Five minutes later, Sarah pulled up to the curb near the Turkish Airlines sign. There were hugs and promises to call once they'd arrived in Baghdad, and as Cosima and Delphine went inside with their suitcases and bags, Sarah leaned against her car and watched them go.

Inside, the check-in process was smooth and the security checks predictable, and when they settled into the airport-standard restaurant close to their terminal, they still had thirty minutes before boarding their plane. They sat sipping water and nibbling on what passed for a “harvest salad,” and Cosima watched the other late-night fliers going by while Delphine did her daily social media Leda check, twelve hours later than she usually did.

“You did yours, then?” she asked Cosima.

“Yeah, at lunch time. You were kinda busy trying to remember that pool noodles aren't sentient, though, so you get a pass.” Cosima kissed Delphine's cheek, then her lips. It would be weeks, or possibly months, before she could that in public again. “You were super cute the whole time, though, fyi.”

Delphine grunted and resumed flipping through status updates of new bikinis, inspirational quotes, and cute babies.

“By the way, didn't Gabriela call you last night?”

“You mean while you were baked out of your mind and climbing all over my sister?”

Delphine looked like she had a retort coming, but just rolled her eyes. “Yes.”

Cosima giggled and squeezed her fiancée's arm to show no ill will. “Yeah, apparently her husband's divorcing her. Guess he was only in it as a monitor, and he was kind of convinced they could have kids, but when that obviously didn't happen, he peaced out.”

“Hm.” If Delphine had any thoughts or comments about being a monitor herself, she kept them to herself. Her thumb hovered over her Facebook feed. “Look at this.”

“What's up?”

The post Delphine pointed to was in Hebrew, and the picture beneath it showed a hand with an IV going into it.

“Oh, shit,” Cosima whispered.

“It's Avigail Chernev,” Delphine said. “One of the Israelis. It's the first time she's posted anything in almost a year.”

Cosima scooted her chair over to get a better view. “Is that her hand? For sure?”

“I assume so. It looks like yours.”

Cosima held her own hand up next to the picture on the phone and squinted. “I'll take your word for that. You are, like, the Leda expert at this point.”

Delphine's eyebrows twitched. “Yes, I suppose I am. You're still my favorite, though.”

“Thank fuck for that.”

Delphine took a screenshot of the Facebook post and emailed it to David Margolis, their Hebrew translator and Israeli cultural guide based back in Toronto. They would translate it themselves, too, with Google, but David's translations were more accurate and nuanced, and he could more easily match up the texts with others he had on file for both Israeli Ledas.

“There's WiFi on the plane, at least,” Delphine went on, “we'll need to monitor this pretty closely.”

Despite the severity of the situation, Cosima smirked. “Did you seriously just say monitor? Even after what I said about Gabriela's husband?”

Delphine stuck her tongue out and copy/ pasted Avigail's status into Google translate. In a second, the English side read Third treatment of the week, here we hope we can cure it soon!

“Third of the week, shit,” Cosima murmured. She pulled up a map of the Middle East on her phone and measured the distance between Baghdad and Tel Aviv. It was a hell of a lot closer than Toronto, but they weren't exactly next door neighbors. And then there was the whole messy political situation.

Meanwhile, Delphine pulled the Europe and the Middle East notebook from her carry-on bag. She flipped through it and tapped her finger on the first Israeli entry.

Avigail Chernev, born 11 June, 1984, in Bet Shemesh, current residence Tel Aviv Monitor as of 2016 – Daniel Fridman Primary care physician as of 2016 – Dr. Joseph Blachar [two msg sent by D.Cormier via D.Margolis, no replies] Social media contacts attempted 21 July, 3 September, and 4 December – no response

Delphine added a line about today's Facebook post on the otherwise empty page that stood in sharp contrast to the information-crowded pages on either side. The page before detailed the medical history and social media habits of Lonah Gerbi, the clone in Haifa they had already made an appointment to treat. Delphine tapped Lonah's page.

“We're not scheduled to be in Israel until the end of May,” she said. “Eight weeks from now.”

“Right, and we scheduled Lonah's treatment after all these other countries for a reason.”

She checked the time. They had fifteen minutes until boarding their plane to Istanbul, where they had a five hour lay-over before flying on to Baghdad. Baghdad, of course, being in one of the many countries with restrictions on travelers who'd had their passports stamped in Israel. Then she looked at Avigail's hand again. Third treatment in one week. Failed treatments, almost certainly, probably radiation or some kind of chemotherapy. The side effects alone probably kept her from working or taking care of her family or whatever else she would have been doing otherwise, and it was quite likely that the treatments had actually hastened the disease's progression, as it had in Jennifer Fitzsimmons.

“She can't wait until May,” Cosima said. “None of the other clones in the Middle East have shown these kinds of symptoms.”

“That we know of.”

She nodded. “That we know of.” Of course. More than once before had a Leda stayed quiet and private right up until she was dying, and only then did Delphine and Cosima hear anything about it. Desperation brought people out of hiding. Or, in the case of Nooran in Djibouti, brought the attention of enough people to point Cosima and Delphine in the right direction.

Delphine was watching her with those big doe eyes, waiting for her to say something, but the decision was obvious.

“I'll email the airline from the plane,” Cosima said. “Change the flight from Istanbul to Tel Aviv instead of Baghdad.”

Delphine's face didn't change, though. She licked her lips. “We still have to cure the others, though. Even if they don't have symptoms, we still have to – ”

“Oh, for sure, we're curing them, too. But we have to get to Avigail first.”

“Yes, but – ”

The airport announcement gong sounded, announcing preboarding to Turkish Airlines Flight XXX bound for Istanbul. They packed up their things, threw away their trash, and went to loiter near the gate with everyone else. At this hour, the crowd of passengers was quiet, mostly businessmen buried in their phones or newspapers.

“What if,” Cosima offered, “we just ask them not to stamp our passports in Tel Aviv?”

Delphine snorted. “Yes, certainly. Have you ever tried telling a passport controller what to do?”

“Not yet, no.”

“Well, I don't think it's a very good idea.”

Some of the businessmen looked up from their devices to listen to the only conversation happening, but the announcer called for first class boarding, so Cosima and Delphine hoisted their bags back onto their shoulders and got on the plane.

Once they were in their seats, enjoying the perks of the frequent flyer program, Cosima said, “Maybe someone else can go to Israel. Cure the Israelis, and we finish up the rest of the Middle East.”

“It's an idea,” Delphine agreed.

Cosima pulled out her phone and texted Scott while the coach passengers filed past.

A minute later, though, that idea was shot. I'd love to, he replied, but I can't take that kind of time off work. We have a big project right now.

She swore under her breath but typed, Okay, thx anyway

The faces of Clone Club flashed before her eyes, and she imagined all of them in lab coats in an Israeli clinic, syringe in hand. Art, Sarah, Alison, Helena, ... None of them fit that image. None of them had experience putting needles in people. Well, Helena might, but she probably wasn't used to aiming the needles with the intention of helping, and she had none of the other necessary skills for this endeavor.

She tapped on her phone until the crew directed them to turn off their devices, and held Delphine's hand as Toronto faded away below them. When the city was entirely gone behind clouds, she turned to Delphine and said, “Rachel would do it. She gave me my treatment, and she knows clone stuff.”

“And she is completely inaccessible to anyone who wants to contact her.”

“And there's that. Fuck.”

Once the fasten seatbelt sign was off, they both had their laptops out, emailing everyone on the Clone Club listserv for ideas and support. David Margolis confirmed their translation of Avigail's status and offered to reach out to her in Hebrew for them, which Delphine replied would be very helpful. Delphine posted a notification on the Foundation's website, just in case Rachel happened to be checking in from wherever she was. Cosima's Google searches confirmed that, indeed, for most of the countries they would be traveling to in the next two months, entrance was denied to anyone who'd been to Israel.

After thirty minutes, though, Cosima found herself staring into space at the shadowy clouds moving below them, forgetting what the hell she'd been typing, or starting one sentence and finishing it with another thought entirely. Beside her, Delphine kept trying to hide her yawns.

“It's after midnight,” Cosima said, dropping her head on Delphine's shoulder. “Maybe one of us should get some rest.”

Delphine kissed her forehead. “You go ahead. I'm used to working late.”

“And I'm not, is that what you're saying?”

“Mmm, yes. You work late, of course, but not like this.”

“Not on an airplane.”

“Correct.”

*

Delphine was right. Something about traveling had this way of knocking Cosima right out. Maybe the sound of a motor, steady total-body vibration, and occasional rocking back and forth made her feel safe, like she was six years old again and her parents were taking care of everything.

When she woke up, the window shade was closed and Delphine's light travel blanket was tucked around her shoulders. To her right, Delphine dozed with her arms across her chest and her head tipped to one side, laptop still open on her tray. The rest of the cabin was bathed in daylight and a flight attendant went down the aisle announcing the last call for beverages or snacks. According to her phone, it was 7:20 in the morning, but when she raised the shade the sun was well above the horizon.

Right. If it was 7:20 am in Toronto, it was 2:20 pm in Istanbul, and they were scheduled to land at 3:15.

She opened her laptop, trying not to jostle Delphine as she checked the clone business email. Five new messages.

Art said he would look into it but made no promises, which could really apply to most of the emails they'd exchanged with him over the past year.

David Margolis forwarded both Cosima and Delphine the email chain with Avigail Chernev, her medical team, and himself. Avigail's primary doctor right now, it said, was a Dr. Ada Bronstein, and both she and Avigail were excited about the possibility of a new treatment option.

There was an email from her mother, linking to an article about a suicide bombing in Basra and begging Cosima to be careful while she was over there.

Her advisor at U Minn sent her a list of epigentics conferences that Cosima “really should consider presenting at.”

And to her surprise, Rebecca Twell replied to Cosima's mass email, saying she was so sorry to hear that another of their identicals was ill, but Rebecca could not take off that kind of time, either, and regardless she did not feel comfortable administering any kind of medical treatment to anyone. She ended her email with a reminder that if and when Cosima and Delphine made it to Scotland, they should absolutely drop by for a pint.

Cosima went back up to the email chain and tapped Dr. Bronstein's number into her phone. That five-hour lay-over coming up in Istanbul was starting to feel awfully short.

*

At Istanbul Atatürk Airport, they got microwaved sandwiches and juice from Starbucks and found a terminal waiting area with no one else sitting in it, so they could spread out over several seats and the floor, charging everything that needed electricity. Delphine exchanged more emails with David Margolis and Avigail's medical team, and compared her symptoms with notes in the MEDICAL notebook that listed all observed symptoms and treatments with side effects.

Cosima called everyone, starting with Adele. Alphabetical order seemed as good as any order right now.

Adele answered with a dynamic yawn. “Oh, hey, Puddin' Pie, how are you doin'? How's Delphine, more to the point? She back from her brownie trip yet?”

“Yeah, yeah, she's good,” Cosima said. “Did you get our email?”

“Huh? No, I haven't checked yet. Why, what's up?”

While Cosima explained the situation, Adele responded with various “uh huh,” “yeah,” or “well shit.” When Cosima finished, Adele laughed. “Oh, honey, I wish I could help you. I really do. But heroin is the one drug I will never, ever touch. Needles skeeve the hell outta me. I stick to drugs that go into holes my body already has.”

Cosima had not said anything about heroin, but she laughed for Adele's sake and said, “Okay, that's cool. That's, uh, probably for the best, actually.”

“Yeah. Hey, have you tried Colin, though? He's gotta have some skills there, right?”

“Uh, not yet. I don't have his contact info, actually. Do you?”

“No, but you know who does.”

Felix picked up on the third ring. “You want Colin's phone number? What for?”

“For the stuff I emailed you about. Did you get our email?”

“I mean, I skimmed it. I've only been up for about 30 minutes. Why? You still haven't found anybody?”

“No. Colin's, like, potentially our last hope.”

Felix muttered something unintelligible, but a moment later produced the number for her, and listened as she read it back to him. “He won't go, though,” Felix added. “I'm certain of that.”

“Why's that?”

“Well, first of all, he's hates flying. He's only flown once, and that was to Calgary ten years ago. He doesn't even have a passport.”

“He doesn't...?” She had forgotten that people could even exist in the world without a passport. “Wow.”

“So, feel free to call him. Tell him that I'm not pining away in his absence, and that he's much more attractive when his head's not shoved up his own arse.”

“You know, I think I'll let you tell him all of those things, and I'll just stick to clone business, okay?”

She called Colin and left a message, and checked the message that had dinged while she was talking to Felix. A picture greeted her at the tap of her thumb: the main room of Nooran's apartment in Djibouti, with the girls and Mohammed, the younger boy, sitting around a folding table that had not been there when Cosima last visited. On the table were the art supplies Cosima and Delphine had given them, and each of the younger children held up a piece of artwork to show off. Fatima sat the farthest from the camera, and she held a book close to her chest, a smile tugging at her lips. The table wasn't the only new item in the photo – a calendar and a flag decorated the wall, and a drying rack laden with laundry snuck into view in the lower right corner. The cell phone used to take the picture must have been new, too, since the family had not had one before.

While Cosima studied the picture, distracted for a moment from Avigail's troubles in Israel, another message popped up, this time showing Nabil taking a selfie with his siblings in the background. Tapping Delphine to get her attention, Cosima took a picture of them together, Delphine smiling and Cosima making a face, and sent it to the kids.

“They are such good kids,” Cosima remarked. “We gotta see if we can keep helping them out, somehow.”

“Mmhm.” Delphine's attention was already back on the task at hand. “Julian can't go. Neither can any of my other medical contacts, including the doctors we know are aware of the cloning situation. All of them are busy, uninterested, or no longer reachable at their former email addresses. I texted Ali, even, from Tripoli, but he's tied up for the rest of the month, apparently.”

“Why Ali? He doesn't have medical training.”

“No, but I thought maybe he could at least transport the cure to Avigail's doctors for us. They could administer it, I expect, on their own, although I haven't confirmed that with them.”

“Oh, yeah. That is a good idea.” She texted Clone Club back with that idea – not to treat, but to transport. Anyone could do that. Anyone that didn't need to go to any of the Muslim-majority Middle Eastern countries that Cosima and Delphine needed to go to, that is.

Colin called back at 4:23 pm Istanbul time. “I'm sorry, you want me to do what, now?” he asked.

She gave the spiel again. “And you're really our last hope.”

“Why can't you do it?”

“Because once we get an Israeli stamp, all these other countries won't let us in. It's geopolitical bullshit.”

Colin exhaled into the receiver. “I don't think you understood my question. Why can't just one of you go, and the other one go to all the other countries? I mean, there are two of you, right?”

Cosima bit her tongue and pushed her hand into the top of her head. “Well, for starters, all the people we're curing look exactly like me. Haven't you noticed? We're clones. It's gonna be pretty weird for me to look all of them in the eye before treating them.”

There was another heavy sigh on the other end of the phone. “And you can't futz your way around that for one dying woman? Wear colored contacts or something? Seems like it'd be pretty easy. I thought you were supposed to be the smart one.”

Felix's last comment about the location of Colin's head came to mind, but Cosima said, “Just trust me. It's not the best idea.”

“Well, I haven't got any other ideas for you. I am not flying to Israel for you. I am not sticking a syringe into a woman I've never met for you. I am not going to deliver biological material that I have not personally inspected to a doctor I've never met for you. I don't even work with the living, remember? I sure as hell don't speak Hebrew.”

“That part really doesn't matter. Think about it, at least?”

“Yeah, maybe. But I'm not changing my mind.”

Just go yourself. She could change her appearance somehow and treat both Israeli Ledas while Delphine was in Iraq, but then Delphine would be in Iraq all by herself. And several weeks after that, Delphine would have to go to Syria all by herself, because Cosima would not be allowed in either of those countries.

Cosima made her way down her contacts lists and called everyone she hadn't already talked to, to see if they or anyone else they knew would be willing to pick up the job. Some people she called again, just in case.

“We'll sort something out,” Sarah assured her after coming up with no new ideas. “I already gave Art a call.”

Cosima even called her mother.

“Oh, Sweetie, I'd love to help,” her mother said, her voice heavy with sleep, “but I am completely unqualified for that kind of work. Even though you know your grandma's been trying to send me to Israel for decades, like with that Birthright program, you know, but for older adults instead of teenagers? Anyway, Israel would be great, but I really just can't go treating someone's illness. I'd probably do it wrong and make everything worse. I'd stick the needle in the wrong organ or something. I work with fish, not people.”

“Well, maybe you could just bring the cure into the country, then? Drop it off and take a week to see the sights.”

“Oh I can't. I'm having bunion surgery tomorrow. Did I tell you that?”

Bunyan surgery. Great. “Uh, no,” Cosima said. “You didn't. How 'bout you send me an email all about it, huh? I have to make some other calls. Unless you think your podiatrist might want to go to Israel for us?”

Sally laughed. “No, but she is Jewish, and I think she's been before. Hey, why don't you just mail it? The treatment, I mean? It's all sealed up, isn't it? You'd have to pay extra, but I don't think that's a big issue.”

Cosima could have kicked herself for not thinking of that earlier, but still, the idea didn't sit well with her. She and Delphine made a point to personally carry the treatment whenever they travelled specifically because they didn't trust anyone else with it. When she floated the idea to Delphine, Delphine's face mimicked her own.

“I mean, it's possible,” Delphine conceded. “But certainly not ideal.”

“I don't know how many other options we have, though.”

She shook her head. “Not very many. None that I like very much. We have a phone conference with Dr. Bronstein in about ten minutes, though, so we can always run it by her, see what she thinks.” Delphine checked her watch and muttered “putain” under her breath before winding the little knob to get in sync with local time. “It's very last minute, of course. I was afraid we might have to wait until tomorrow to talk to her, and, like we've been saying, Avigail doesn't have much time left. Dr. Bronstein seems willing to do whatever it takes, though.”

In the time before their phone conference, Alison called, and after a moment of checking in, repeated Colin's suggestion. “I don't know why you don't just go over there yourself, Cosima. You and Delphine are the only ones who have any experience with this. Put a surgical mask on and no one will notice you look the same.”

Cosima bit her tongue. “So you don't know anyone who could step in and help us out? No one at all?”

“No one who I'm willing to out myself to by sending them to Israel to treat one of my clones, no. Just go! You can rejoin Delphine when she's finished treating all our sisters in those... other countries. Or, you know, like I've been saying all along, you can just split the work and get it all done in half the time.”

“Alison,” Cosima began, “People recognize me. They recognize that I look like other people. Don't you remember how you felt way back when Beth first contacted you, first said you were a clone...”

Delphine nudged her before she could continue. “Dr. Bronstein's calling.”

“Gotta go, Alison. We'll talk soon, yeah?” She hung up before Alison could say anything else, and popped in Delphine's left earbud so she could participate in the conversation without annoying the few other passengers now camping out in the waiting area with them. Cosima took a deep breath to center herself and switch her brain from Sestra mode to professional mode as Delphine gave Dr. Bronstein a warm greeting.

“Yes, hello to both of you,” Dr. Bronstein said with a voice that reminded Cosima of character from Downton Abbey. “It's so felicitous that you've found us. I'm afraid Ms. Chernev's prognosis is quite poor at this point.”

“Yes, that's my understanding, as well,” Delphine said. “She knows that you're in contact with us, yes?”

“Oh yes, I've just spoken with her and her family, and Ms. Chernev has signed the agreement allowing me to discuss her condition with you and your translator, Mr. Margolis. I believe a PDF of the agreement has been emailed to you, as well.”

Cosima didn't see it right away, but considering everything else they were doing to save the Ledas, she wasn't too worried about a single release of information form.

“So, Dr. Bronstein, can you give us another quick run-down of Avigail's symptoms and prognosis so far?” she said.

“Well, she's been in my care for almost two years,” Dr. Bronstein told them, “starting with lung polyps that remain and have no clear cause.” She went on to give every symptom of the disease, and all the attempted treatments. Avigail had had numerous seizures that resisted the effects of anti-convulsant medications, and she'd been on oxygen full-time for the past year. Her doctors had tried every treatment that Cosima would expect them to and then some. Avigail had lost her hair and now weighed only forty-one kilograms. Her vision was spotty, She had difficulty swallowing. She was jaundiced. Her kidneys failed almost a year ago, and she was on dialysis, but the rest of her health conditions kept her off the kidney transplant list.

“Anyway,” Dr. Bronstein concluded, “I don't know exactly how you've found us, but any help you can offer is incredibly welcome. We don't know how much time she has left, since we've never seen something like this before, but, well, to be honest, it might not be very much time at all. Her family's been advised to help her get her things in order.”

Cosima hung on every word Dr. Bronstein said, picturing the cells and tissues and organs, and the woman lying on the hospital bed. “Third treatment this week,” she'd said, just that morning, on her Facebook page. The understatement of the century, it seemed. If nothing else, Avigail's attitude seemed positive.

“I'm glad she has her family with her,” Cosima said.

While Dr. Bronstein gave a standard sort of agreement, Delphine put her arm around Cosima's waist and held her tight, until an airport employee walked by and gave them a double take, and Cosima scooted away. On her own cell phone she typed We're in Turkey again, babe and showed it to Delphine. There could be no public displays of affection here.

“So, Dr. Bronstein,” Cosima said, “we've actually seen this condition a few times before, and we're very interested in treating Avigail if she'll let us, but, um –”

“Yes, that's what your colleague said in her email. How soon can you get here?” She laughed, and Cosima had a mental image of large front teeth.

“Well, that's just the thing,” Cosima began. “We'd love to get there as soon as possible, but –”

“–but we're also going to a lot of other countries in the region,” Delphine finished when Cosima's hand flapping indicated she needed help.

“I see,” Dr. Bronstein said.

“For the same purpose,” Delphine went on, “and our understanding is that we're not allowed into those countries after we've been to Israel.”

There was silence on the other end of the phone, and Cosima and Delphine exchanged a long look. In her research, Cosima had run across another interesting fact – people who visited Palestine were occasionally not allowed to enter Israel, unless they were Israeli citizens. She'd made a mental note of that and moved on, since they didn't plan to visit Palestine, but now she dredged it back out.

“For what it's worth, Dr. Bronstein, we're traveling exclusively for medical purposes. We really have no interest in anyone's political positions. We just want to cure these women. And, again, for whatever it's worth, we are not planning to go to Palestine. We haven't heard of any patients there with this condition.”

“Oh! Hahaha...” Dr. Bronstein chuckled. “No, no, I was thinking more of our patient here. You see, I've reached out to other doctors, and no one has any idea, either, so I'm simply surprised, ehm, surprised that you've had so much experience. That's all. And, worried, quite frankly. I am quite worried about what will happen if she is not treated soon.”

“Well, we have the treatment with us,” Delphine said. “We could send it to you.”

“With you? As in...?”

“As in, we're sitting next to it right now,” Cosima said. “But we're worried that if we bring it over, we won't be allowed into some of the other countries that we really need to get into.”

“I see. Well, one of you could come and the other could go to the other countries. Or not?”

That idea again. The worst part was that it was right. It would be the easiest solution. It would also be the absolute worst one.

“Yes,” Delphine acknowledged, “that is one of our possibilities, but we'd prefer not to travel alone if at all possible. I'm sure you understand.”

“Well, where else are you going, exactly?”

Delphine pulled up the itinerary she had save on her laptop. “Iraq, later today. Iran, Kuwait, Turkey, Lebanon, Syria...” Below Syria on the list were Jordan and Israel, followed by the European countries, but the noises Dr. Bronstein was making on the other end of the phone interrupted that flow.

“You're going to Syria?” Dr. Bronstein exclaimed. “Have you really found a patient there in such dire straights that you must absolutely go into that blazing inferno to treat them?”

Dire straights was putting it rather dramatically for most of the Ledas at the moment, since less than twenty percent had developed visible symptoms, but that was beside the point. “Yes,” Delphine said. “We have. She may have more time than Avigail, but we don't know how much.”

“Well, you certainly are dedicated,” Dr. Bronstein said. “You're not going to Jordan, then? It's a bit more peaceful.

“We are,” Cosima said. “After Syria.”

“I see. I was going to tell you that entering Jordan and Egypt is often easier after a trip to Israel than some of the other countries are, so you may consider going there instead.”

Cosima leaned her head back against the wall. That was not the point. “We'll keep that in mind, thank you.”

“About our other suggestion, though,” Delphine said, “about us mailing you the treatments. There would be five vials, all properly secured, with extensive instructions --”

“Erm, I don't know about that. You've administered this treatment to other women, you say?”

“Yes, more than a hundred of them.”

“Oh! Well, I can't think of anyone better qualified, then, to administer than yourself. I wouldn't feel completely comfortable no matter how extensive your instructions are, if I knew that there was someone better qualified to do it. And I assure you, Tel Aviv is quite safe. You don't need to worry about traveling alone here.”

Dr. Bronstein probably had a reassuring smile on her face, but Cosima's stomach continued the drop it had started twelve hours earlier. If Avigail's main doctor did not want to give her the cure herself, there wasn't much chance anyone else over there would, either.

“And if you're worried about the stamp,” the doctor went on, “I'm told that many tourists don't get their passports stamped at all. They have this little piece of paper they stamp for you instead. You can throw that away once you've left the country, if you like.”

Cosima and Delphine looked at each other. That changed everything. “Really?” Cosima asked.

“That's what I've been told. I'm a citizen, myself, so of course I've never been in that position.”

“It's worth a try,” Delphine said.

“Can we expect a visit, then?” Dr. Bronstein asked.

“We, euh, we need a few minutes to discuss it, privately,” Delphine told her. “May we call you back?”

“Of course. This is my mobile, so it shouldn't be any trouble.”

They got off the phone, and Cosima started pacing around. “If they just don't stamp it for anyone, we've been pulling our hair out for nothing. Not that I'm complaining, but, it would be suspiciously convenient.”

Delphine tapped away at her keyboard, then her eyes darted back and forth. “Other travelers back it up, actually.”

“Shit, we should've just put that in our Google search first. Here I was trying to see if I could tear the page out of my passport without anyone getting suspicious.”

Delphine leaned back against the wall, fingers resting on her keyboard. “You want to be the one to go, then?”

“I think it makes the most sense.”

Delphine nodded. “I agree. Just in case, you know.”

“In case they don't let me in anywhere else, after all. Which is still a possibility, I think.”

“I think so, too, but I don't know how much of one.”

Cosima thought of everything Dr. Bronstein had said about Avigail, about how she seemed to be staying alive out of sheet pluck while her body fell apart all around her. In the end, there really had been only one solution – this one. “Go ahead and call her back,” she told Delphine. “I can be there by tomorrow morning.”

*

A few hours later, after a visit to the ticketing agent, a phone call with Alison, two more phone calls and an email with Dr. Bronstein, and repacking of their carry-on bags, they stood together just outside the terminal for Delphine's departing flight to Baghdad, which she would take alone. Cosima's flight to Tel Aviv left in two more hours. Outside the terminal windows, the sun had set almost an hour ago, and each of them had several more waking hours ahead of them.

“Try to get some rest where you can,” Delphine told her. “You won't do Avigail any good if you're exhausted.”

“Yeah, I could say the same for you.”

“I have a little more time. The appointment isn't for another twenty-five hours.”

“Yeah, but you have to get to it.”

Outside on the tarmac, Delphine's Turkish Airlines plane pulled up to the extendable passenger bridge. Before it began discharging passengers, Cosima nudged Delphine and gestured towards the women's bathroom.

“Come on. Last chance for a little while.”

Delphine followed her into the largest stall and giggled as Cosima locked the door behind them. “You want to have sex in the bathroom? In ten minutes?”

Cosima made a face. “Not sex, no. Not smelling like this. Just...” She draped her arms around Delphine's neck and pulled her down for a long kiss. They stood together holding each other and kissing until passengers flooded the bathroom with their chatter, their laughter, their complaints, and a couple instances of explosive releases.

“I just wanted to kiss you again,” Cosima said. “It's gonna be a couple days till I can do it again.”

Delphine cupped Cosima's face in her left hand, stroking her earlobe with her pinky finger. “It's just a couple of days. I'll text you when I land, yeah?”

“Yeah. Same. I'll... I'll keep you abreast of all affairs.” Her terrible attempt at imitating Dr. Bronstein's accent made Delphine break into giggles again, but their moment was cut short by knocks on the stall door.

“We have to go,” Delphine whispered. She peppered Cosima's face with kisses and told her how much she loved her.

“I love you, too,” Cosima said, just before the knocking resumed with a bit more force. “Be safe, okay?”

“I will, I promise. You, as well.”

When they opened the door, they were greeted by a stout cleaning lady and a couple of curious travelers, all of whom expressed some version of “oh!” Delphine gave them her best smile and a cheery “Bonsoir!” as she and Cosima maneuvered their way through the people and back out into the main terminal.

And like every other flight they'd taken in this part of the world, Cosima did not hold Delphine's hand in the boarding line, or rest her head on Delphine's shoulder. For those other flights, though, Cosima had still been beside her, and now she wasn't. She stood by the departures board and watched her fiancée move through the line of almost exclusively Middle Eastern travelers and get her ticket checked. Just before rounding the corner onto the passenger bridge, Delphine turned and paused. She smiled and gave Cosima a tiny air kiss, then made her way down the hall and out of sight.

* * *

Four hours later, standing in line at Ben Gurion International Airport in Tel Aviv, Cosima flicked through her messages. Delphine had arrived safely in Baghdad an hour before and was suitably exhausted. She said the security escort was working out fine. Cosima texted her love and sent another message to Dr. Bronstein saying that she was waiting for passport control.

Wonderful! Dr. Bronstein replied. I will retrieve you personally and deliver you to our guest house. I am the tall thin woman in the burgundy jacket, but I also have your name on a sign, so we should have no trouble at all finding each other.

In the next message, Alison assured her that “the Jewish family who lives down the street” had been to Israel and never gotten their passports stamped in Tel Aviv, and they'd never had an issue visiting any other countries. She did not, however, specify which other countries they had tried to visit. See? Alison went on, I told you this would work out just fine.

Scott texted her that one of his Muslim coworkers had tried visiting Israel a few years ago, but got turned away at the border with Jordan. But that shouldn't be a problem for you, Scott said.

The line inched forward. A baby cried. A man bragged to a woman about the ultra marathon he'd run in Israel last year. A little boy whined about being hungry. And Cosima swayed on her feet with no one to lean against.

It was after one in the morning when Cosima finally reached the passport control window. She gave the uniformed man behind the glass her best smile and handed over her passport, open to the picture page.

“Miss Niehaus?” he clarified, winning top marks as one of very few people who got the pronunciation right on the first try. He spent longer than any other passport official ever had comparing her face to her picture, confirmed her date of birth and residence, and asked how long she planned to stay in Israel.

“Two weeks,” she said. They'd made the mistake way back in Ecuador of being vague but honest about how long they would stay, so now they gave a nice firm, if wrong, time frame right up front. He nodded and began flipping through the passport, slowing down after a few fully-stamped pages.

“Um, actually,” she said, “I was wondering if I could get one of those stamps pieces of paper instead?”

He glanced up at her and resumed his exploration of her travel history. “You go a lot of places, Miss Niehaus.”

“Yes. Yes I do.”

He clucked his tongue. “Very many places. Mexico. Argentina. Oman. Libya. Saudi Arabia.” He looked up at her with a frown. “And you have visas for Iran, Syria, and Iraq. You plan to visit them later?”

“Yes, well, you see, that's why I'm kind of hoping you might stamp a different paper instead, because they might not let me in if I have your stamp, and well, you know.” She smiled and held up her hands in a “what're you gonna do” gesture, to show that it wasn't his fault politics were all fucked up.

He did not smile. He leaned over, picked up the phone receiver, and mumbled into it. When he hung up, he gestured for Cosima to step to the left. “Stand aside, please, Miss Niehaus.”

“Oh. Okay, sure. Um, can I have my –”

The officer handed her passport to a tall man in a gray uniform who approached and looked her up and down, one hand on the strap of his rifle.

“Oh, shit,” she whispered.

*

The room they took her to was tiny, with a long table on one side and two metal chairs on the other. A uniformed woman directed her to remove her boots, jacket, belt, and all of her jewelry. She then gave Cosima the most thorough pat down Cosima had gotten from anyone other than Delphine. While that went on, an middle aged woman (Soldier? Guard? Border officer?) sat in one of the metal chairs. The man who'd taken Cosima's passport placed her bags on the long table, and he handed the passport to the second woman, who set a recorder with a blinking red light on the table.

“Sit,” the woman told Cosima. “Take your hair down.”

Cosima did so, and the younger woman worked her fingers down the length of every one of Cosima's dreadlocks.

“It's okay, I left the explosive hair pins at home,” Cosima snarked when the hair inspection was about halfway done.

The younger woman paused for a moment. “No jokes, please.”

So Cosima sat quietly while the man opened up her bags, setting the electronics to one side, and the older woman looked through her passport. Maybe it was her exhaustion seeping through, but the more she watched them working, the more they reminded her of General Leia Organa and Kylo Ren from the new Star Wars movies.

The officer Cosima now mentally called General Organa began the conversation. “So Miss Niehaus, what brings you to Israel?”

She had practiced professional answer for that. “It's a medical trip. There's a patient here who's arranged for us, I mean, for me to come and treat her.”

“What's the patient's name?”

“Uh, that's confidential. Patient confidentially's very important to us.”

“Who's us?”

“The Sadler and Daughter's Foundation. Their information is on a card in my purse.”

The Kylo Ren guard emptied her purse onto the table and fished around in her things until he got the little stack of business cards, which he handed to the General.

General Organa arched an eyebrow. “So you're based in Toronto, but hold a US passport. Where will you be treating this patient?”

“At the Tel Aviv Medical Center.” When the General put the cards back on the table, Cosima added, “I have an appointment there first thing in the morning, and our patient's life really depends on me being there.”

As if on cue, Cosima's phone rang, vibrating its way in a little circle on the metal table next to her laptop.

“That's probably my contact at the hospital,” Cosima said. “She was supposed to pick me up here.”

No one moved to hand her the phone, but they waited until it stopped ringing to speak again. “And who is this contact?” the General asked.

That part was not exactly confidential. “Dr. Ada Bronstein. I can give you her contact information.”

“Please do. We also need to search your email addresses and your mobile phone.”

“Excuse me?”

“Failure to comply will jeopardize your chances of entering the country.” The General gestured to the male guard, who handed the laptop and the cell phone over to Cosima.

“Unlock these,” he said.

Unlocking her phone, she saw that, indeed, Dr. Bronstein had called her, and sent a text message inquiring about her whereabouts. “Can I just respond to these real quick?” Cosima asked.

General Organa frowned up at her, but did not say no, so Cosima sent a quick text. They're asking me a lot of questions. Then the young female guard took her cell phone and the General took her laptop. While they poked and prodded, Kylo Ren continued his search of Cosima's carry-on bag.

“I hope you like all the pictures of my fiancée,” Cosima muttered to the guard scrolling through her cell phone.

There was no reaction from the guards to her statement. Kylo Ren, though, held up the case containing the Avigail's cure, and Cosima sat bolt upright.

“What's this?” he asked.

“That's the medicine we use to treat people.”

“What is the chemical composition?”

At this point, it must have been close to two o'clock in the morning local time. Cosima's hands and legs were trembling, and biting her tongue got harder with every question they asked. Still, miraculously, she did not give the chemical composition as “the cum I scraped off your mom's face last night, bitch” but rather gave the actual breakdown of materials in each vial. The guard's face glazed over after five words or so, but the little recorder on the desk blinked away, and someone listening certainly knew what she was talking about.

“Where was it manufactured?” Kylo Ren asked.

“Toronto, Canada.”

“Where exactly?”

“The basement of a comic book shop. The Rabbit Hole.” She waved at her laptop. “Look it up. There's a picture of it on our Foundation's website.”

General Organa leaned forward on her chair. “You have been asked a serious question, Ms. Niehaus. If you wish to enter the country, I strongly suggest that you take this process seriously.”

Cosima's voice trembled and she dug her fingers into her palms. “Dude, I am as a serious as a fucking heart attack. There is a woman here in Tel Aviv who needs that medicine to survive. You can call her doctor if you don't believe me. Her number is in my phone.”

“That won't be necessary.”

Cosima bit her lip and struggled not to cry. She was in the habit of not drinking much in the last hour of any plane ride, in case she couldn't use a bathroom anytime soon after landing. The habit came in handy now, but her throat was dry and the blood vessels in her head throbbed, and crying wouldn't make any of that better. She took off her glasses and rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Can I at least know why you're holding me? Or, like, your names or anything? Badge numbers?”

In college, when she participated in far more political protests, she'd had the whole spiel of what to say to cops memorized. But that was years ago, and she hadn't been exhausted or desperate to save someone else's life.

The young female guard came around in front of her and held Cosima's phone up so the screen was a foot away from Cosima's nose. “Who are they?” she demanded.

Cosima put her glasses back on to see the picture of Nabil and his siblings around their new kitchen table. “Friends. Their aunt is a friend of mine.”

The guard handed the phone to her superior and looked down at Cosima with a face that had switched from professional indifference to outright contempt. “Where are they?”

“Djibouti. Why, you wanna call them, too? Wake them up in the middle of the night?”

The General's body language also changed when she saw the picture. “How do you know these children?”

“I just told you, they're my friend's nieces and nephews.”

“What friend?”

“A friend in Djibouti. She was also a patient of mine, and the kids are in her custody.”

The General shoved the image closer to Cosima's face. “Those children are not Djiboutian. They are Arab.”

If she had been less tired, Cosima would have rolled her eyes. “Yeah, you got me, they're from Yemen. They're refugees. You might be aware that there's a bit of a refugee situation, like, fucking, globally right now, right?”

“Well, that's a bit closer to the truth, finally.” The General pointed to Nabil's selfie, not to his smiling face but to the wall of their apartment, where a green flag with white swords decorated the drab brown and gray. “What symbol is that, Ms. Niehaus?”

“I...” She looked again, with the feeling of being dropped into the most important geography pop quiz of her life. The flag looked Saudi Arabian, but the swords pointed up more, and there was a book between the sword tips that wasn't present on the Saudi flag. The flag wasn't Djiboutian, Egyptian, Algerian, or any other country she recognized, either. “I have no fucking clue. I'm sure you have a specialist somewhere in Tel Aviv who can answer that question for you, though.”

“Smart ass,” Kylo Ren muttered, shaking out her underwear once piece at a time.

“Ms. Niehaus,” the General said, “I suggest you give us a very good explanation for this photo, right away, or I shall have to deny your entry into our country, not only for today, but for the next ten years at the very least.”

Tears fell from Cosima's eyes before she could speak. So much for not crying. “What the fucking hell,” she whispered into her hands. “Please,” she said, looking at the General and opening crying now, “they're just kids. They're good kids. Their parents are dead. I don't know what the flag means. They probably don't know, either. For fuck's sake half of them can barely read! This has nothing to do with Israel, or, or with anything else! Just let me cure my patient and leave! Then I swear to God I'll stay away for the next ten years or forever if you want me to!”

General Organa might have said more, but the door opened and a trim young officer stepped in and addressed her in Hebrew.

They stepped out together, leaving Cosima with her guards, staring at her belongings scattered across the table and quietly sobbing. Delphine would have been out of here by now. She would have said just the right things, had just the right whatever-the-fuck, and they would have let her in the country with no problems. But now, hopefully, Delphine was sleeping peacefully in a hotel bed, in a country that everyone had told them not to go into, and Cosima was this close to being denied entry into what Alison called “the only civilized country in the Middle East.”

Cosima had almost dozed off on the little metal chair when the door opened again and the General came in with Cosima's passport in her hand and a scowl on her face. “You're very lucky, Ms. Niehaus. We've been instructed to let you into the country without further delay. Get your things together, please.”

Keenly aware of the guns still pointed not exactly at her but certainly not away from her, Cosima stuffed everything back into her bags, only taking any care with her cell phone, her laptop, and the cure. She asked no questions and made no comments. Once she was finished, she turned and held out her hand for her passport, but instead, the guards led her back around to the passport control desk.

“Dr. Bronstein will meet you through those doors,” the General said, her voice dripping with disdain. Then she cut in front of the other people waiting to get into the country, went into the passport control booth, and stamped Cosima's passport with the Israeli travel visa.