#you want to live like its 1840

[lovecom]

we are going backwards i swear

[wildemaven]

Saturday’s with Javier: Sleepless Nights

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader

WC: 1840

Warnings: E- sex to sleep, unprotected P in V, orgasms, nipple play, established relationship, fluff, 2nd POV, nightmares, mentions of alcohol, I think that’s everything- if I forgot anything let me know.

A/N: Y’all! I don’t even know what this is or if I even like it all that much. I wanted it to be this steamy scene for them, so I pushed myself to get smuttier than I have before but I don’t even know if it reads that way. So, if it sucks I’m sorry!

Series Masterlist / Main Masterlist

Sleep eluded Javier.

Not as often as it once did.

But it does from time to time.

He thinks back to his time in Colombia when it was late nights, surviving on rich black coffee just to make it through one more report.

He’d settle into his apartment, locking the world out in hopes to catch a few hours of rest before it was time to get back to the embassy.

Rinse and repeat.

He’s grateful though when sleep doesn’t come easy these days, it’s not due to hunting down leads or chasing big name narcos from town to town, it’s due to normal life happenings. Some nights finding his brain just won’t shut off, as he lays awake against your sleeping form.

On those rare occasions, Javier silently waves his white flag and surrenders himself to the night.

*

The living room is his retreat on sleepless nights. He hates leaving you to sleep alone, knowing you hate waking up with out him near, but he’s always worried his restless movements will wake you.

The radio is low, as it plays through the local radio station, drowning out the incessant tick of the wall clock— it’s always the loudest on these nights.

The leather pulls at his bare skin as Javier shifts in the chair, his previous position already sending an ache to his lower back.

His book abandoned on the coffee table, the page where he left off dog-eared and ready for next time.

A mug sits half empty and cold on the end table next to where he’s been sitting for the last hour. Its contents a tea blend of chamomile, lemon balm and some other spices you’d picked up for him for these nights.

He settles back into the chair, a gift from you when you’d bought this house, you said he needed a comfy place to relax after his long hours on the ranch— he’s indebted to your need to care of him in ways he’d never think to.

The minutes continue to tick on, the night slowly teetering on the edge of tomorrow. Annoyance seeping through the cracks of his wakeful mind.

Breathing out a huff of frustration, Javier drops his head on to the back of the chair, eyes closed, accepting the fact that sleep is not in the cards for him this time.

Theres a creak of a wooden door opening, followed by light footfalls down the hallway nearing where Javier still sits in the dimly lit living room.

“Javi?” Your voice still soft with sleep.

His attention snaps to you padding your way through the room to him. When he’d left you in bed you were bare, but now you’re wearing his shirt— a deep green, soft and worn-in from his years of wearing it, he prefers seeing it draped over your form now.

“Shit! Cariño, did I wake you?” Sitting forward, an elbow resting on his knee as his other arm extends out you, beckoning you closer to him.

A yawn escapes, your arms raising in an attempt to stretch out your wearied muscles, your shirt— Javi’s shirt —barely covering your lower half.

“Mmmm, no you didn’t wake me. Couldn’t sleep and you weren’t there when I rolled over.” You grab his hand and sit down on the edge of the coffee table in front of him, pulling his hand into your lap.

“How long have you been awake?” Noticing his book next to where you’re sitting and the mug on the side table.

“An hour or so maybe. Came out here so I wouldn’t wake you. Made some of that tea, little reading and listening to some music— hoped something might do the trick.”

Your fingers dance across his hand, soft lenitive strokes as you listen to him talk.

“Nightmare?”

“No. Not this time. Just couldn’t get back to sleep.”

Nightmares had haunted him for years. Stealing away his sleep, plaguing his mind with thoughts of his past. Images and stories that had been seared into his mind for years. Even after Colombia, night was an enemy to Javier, always grateful when the sun saved him from the darkness of his dreams.

That was until you. He couldn’t remember a time when he’d slept as good as he did with you next him. He felt more relaxed, his mind was quiet, he’d wake feeling rested and ready for the day.

There were times when a nightmare would crawl out from the depths at which they lay dormant for months, trying to ambush Javier when he’d least expect them. Those nights he’d wake in your arms, your voice pulling him into safety, reassuring him that you were with him and he was okay.

“What can I do to help?” Brushing a few of his loose strands of hair out of his face.

“I don’t even know. Feel like I’ve tried most of my usual things so far.”

“Most?? Is there something else that might help?”

He thinks back to his nights in Colombia, when he needed to sleep just a few hours so he could get through the next day.

“I don’t know Cariño, it’s late and—.”

“Humor me Javi— You’ve got to get some sleep. Especially if you don’t want Chucho to give you shit, he worries about you when you show up looking like you haven’t slept in days.”

“In Colombia, I had a few things that helped, but don’t know if they would do me any good now.”

You give him a look, encouraging him to continue to share his thoughts.

“Smoking— helped me relax, took the edge off of those long shitty days.” His skin tingles at the thought of the nicotine pulling through the his lips.

“Hm… Javi, I know it’s been awhile, but if you need to— y-you can if it will help.”

“No, no I don’t need it.” He shakes his head, seeing the worry in your eyes.

Javier had quit smoking. You had never pressured him to do so, but when he had mentioned it was something he wanted to finally stop, you were there to support him through it. He hadn’t touched a cigarette for 4 months and wasn’t about to just for a night of sleep.

“What else might help you?” Tilting your head to the side as you wait for him to share, your fingers continue to card through his hair, gently scratching at his scalp.

“A drink or two, but it’s too goddamn late for whiskey— I’m not that young anymore. Pops would give me shit for working with a fuckin’ hangover.” You laugh in agreement.

“Well, smoking and drinking are out of the equation. So that leaves….” Your teeth sink into your bottom lip trying to hide your smirk, knowing exactly what that left— sex.

You knew about the brothels, the women he’d pay for information and doubled as a late night release, every bit of his past was no secret to you. And you never held any of it against him ever, it’s now just a part of who he use to be— judgement wasn’t something you ever gave him.

He doesn’t even have to say a single thing before you’re leaning forward, capturing his lips with your own.

You place your hands on his shoulders, pushing into the kiss as you slowly push him back into the chair, fervently crawling into his lap so you could straddle him.

His hands instinctively grab your hips as you deliberately grind down on to him.

“C-Cariño, you don’t have to. It-it’s late-fuck-it’s late…”

He can feel your unclothed sex through his thin boxers, which are now damp from your dripping arousal and his pre-cum mixing together. His body’s reaction is desirous and eager, he’s hard as your movements continue at a steady pace.

“Mmm. I want to, especially if it means my husband will be asleep in bed with me after—ooh— I want to make you feel good my love.”

You’re body craving more, breathless as your hand drifts down under his waistband, your fingers gliding over his taut warm skin. Kissing him again as you remove his hardened length from his boxers, sliding the tip of it through your soaked folds.

Javier looks down as you slowly begin to sink down onto his cock, taking him inch by inch, unhurried in your efforts which has his nerve endings firing off instantaneously.

“Fuck!” His hands working hastily to remove your shirt, the slightest bounce of your breasts as your naked form begins to move in up and downward motions.

A groan barrels from his chest at the sight of you, an ethereal vision lost in effortless pleasure. Your eyes closed, blissed out at the feeling of his cock hitting every little sweet spot.

“Oh Fuck— Javier!” His name nearly a whimper as it floats through the air.

One hand still steadily gripping his shoulder for support and the other now holding your breast, kneading its weight. Each calculated squeeze and gentle rolling of your nipple, is a building sensation that sends a ripple of lust surging through your body.

“Javi— ah— I’m so close… I’m—“ He can feel you squeezing him, a fierce grip on his length, prompting him grab on to your hips tighter as he thrusts up into you.

“I’m not— shit— gonna last much longer—“ His voice shaky as he groans, trying to warn you. “T-touch yourself baby.”

You nod at his direction, a hand snaking down between where you’re both melding together, swiping your fingers through the slick gathering at the base of Javier’s cock.

It’s blinding the instant your fingers glid over your sensitive clit, swollen and needy, each circular motion of your fingers edging you closer and closer.

Your thighs are trembling, Javier pulling you down to him, his thrusts now faster and deeper. Your mouths fusing together, a tangled mess of licking and sucking, shared moans and staggered breaths.

Before you can even start your warning of coming, your body tenses as your orgasm explodes through your body. It dances about in a slow succession of pulses, each one pulling Javier in further, triggering his own release.

“God— J-Javier I love you!”

He pulls your body tight against his, fingers digging into your dewy skin as he spills into you.

“Fuck! I l-love you, Amor!”

*

You’re both not sure how much time passes as still lay draped over Javier. His fingers delicately stroking the length of your spine, your breathing evened little puffs against his neck.

“Javier, if you keep doing that I’m going to fall asleep right here.” You whisper into the crook of his neck.

“That’s the plan Cariño.”

The leather sticks to you as you shift your tired legs, adjusting your body up so you’re hovering slightly over where he’s still laying back on the chair.

He looks relaxed— eyes looking sleepy, heavy slow blinks as he looks at you.

His hand settles on the back of your neck and pulls you in until lips meet in a soft drowsy kiss.

“Let’s go to bed Cariño.”

[stardustndreamsofsilver]

Inferum

Prologue

Jake x OC (f)

Warnings: possibly spooky subject to some, talk of human remains

Quocumque ingrederis sequitur mors corporis umbra.

My story begins like any other I suppose. When I was small and staying with my Grandma Julie, as I did most weekends, I saw my first fantôme, ghost. As I lay sleeping, I woke to a woman sitting at the end of my bed. She was old, her red hair reminded me of a poodle and the way she dressed seemed out of place, even to a five year old. She lounged at the end of the bed, legs crossed, one arm draped across her lap and a cigarette in the hand of the other. Up until then my little mind had not thought to be frightened, just confused. 

Then, she took a drag of her cigarette and slowly faced me. She stared at me, unblinking. My heart began to pound and I could feel my throat begin to close from the sheer terror that coursed through my body. I wanted to scream, jump up and run to my grandmother, anything! But I was frozen in place. All I could do was screw my eyes shut and pray for her to go away.

The next morning, I told Grandma Julie about the woman in my room. She, like most adults, thought nothing of it and figured the woman was an imaginary friend I’d conjured up. That is until I began to describe her. As I recounted the details of the woman, from the color of her pants to the pattern on her sweater, my grandmother’s face slowly began to fall.

“Oh! And she had funny looking hair. It was red like yours, but looked like cotton candy!” I’d said.

All color drained from Grandma’s face. Her hand slowly raised and covered her mouth. Tears welled in her eyes and she whispered, “Oh, God!” I later learned that the person I’d described had been my grandmother’s mother, Ava. Not only that, but the way I described her was how she’d looked the day she told Grandma Julie that she had lung cancer. 

Since that day, I’ve never stopped pursuing the paranormal. It started with me asking my parents– or rather any adult– about ghosts. Were they real? Had the woman I’d seen just been in my head like my mother tried to convince me? As I got older, I would read any ghost story I could get my hands on, be it fiction, reddit forums; whatever form they took. Some would say that I was/am obsessed, but I’d like to think that I’m on a lifelong pursuit of knowledge. Albeit niche. 

Which brings us here, to Paris.

Paris, the city of love, the city of light, the city of the dead. It should be clear as to which name brings me here. The city of love… Ah, who am I kidding? I’m here for the Ossuaire Municipal de Paris, otherwise known as the Catacombs.

The Catacombs are steeped in mystery, the macabre, and stories of the paranormal. Which, how could they not be? They hold the remains of an estimated six million people. Not only that, but most of the remains were exhumed from their original resting place and dumped into the then abandoned limestone mines. 

But then there was good reason for this, as the cemeteries of Paris were overflowing by the mid to late 1780s. It was so overflowing and “unpleasant” to live near that it became a matter of public health and safety. So, the bones of millions began to be moved and continued to be until 1814 and then began again in 1840. 20 years later, the interment of remains officially and finally stopped.

Now, the remains weren’t left undisturbed during this time. Just before the Ossuaire Municipal de Paris was opened to the public, a man named Héricart de Thury was charged with heading the “decorative rearrangement” of the bones, that up until this point, were just pushed in the massive piles along the walls to utilize as much space as possible. So, Thury was the man who planned and executed the macabre and morbid designs and art that you see today within its walls.

These two things, the mass exhumation and further disturbance of the remains, are said to be the catalyst for the haunting of the Catacombs. Which in turn has brought thousands of urban explorers, paranormal investigators, and lovers of all things supernatural to the city. There are so many stories and urban legends told by those who have braved the uncharted parts of the catacombs. I’m sure they could fill a library's worth of books. 

This particular excursion of the city of the dead will fill mine.

taglist: @peaceloveunitygvf, @edgingthedarkness, @jakekiszkashangnail08

If you would like to be added to the taglist for future installments, let me you 🖤

[alliluyevas]

hello American Girl and/or Mormon history aficionados!! After some of the questions you guys have been sending me/my own personal ruminations, I want to share some of the ideas I have for if AG was going to create a historical Mormon character. (Though, for reasons outlined when I responded to the previous ask about a hypothetical Mormon pioneer doll, I highly doubt AG would go that route and I think there are plenty of valid reasons why they possibly shouldn't.)

That being said, if they did, here are some ideas I think would be interesting or cool. First of all, time frame. I answered the previous anon's question with the assumption that "Mormon pioneer" meant an early Utah settler with a storyline set in the late 1840s or early 1850s. I would actually prefer a slightly later era, and I think that might avoid some of the concerns about two much overlap with Kirsten's era. It also would help fill the forty-year gap between Addy and Samantha's storylines. In terms of narrative gaps, I also think there's a bit of a gap with not having a character whose story is set "out west" in the 19th century. (Kirsten's storyline addresses some issues of westward expansion, but she's really Midwestern, and while Josefina is in a modern-day Southwestern state, in her era that region is not under US political control, which makes for a slightly different narrative.)

Part of the reason why I think not having anything between 1864 and 1904 is such a misstep is that there was so much rapid technological development, population growth, and political/social change during those decades and I feel like we get to see the very beginning of a process with Addy and then we pick up with Samantha when so much change has already happened. I'd like to see a bit of a mid-point, and I think a Western state would be a really interesting place to do that. (Side note: if I wasn't a Mormon history nerd, and if AG didn't already have TWO different 20th century historical characters who live in California, I would say California would be the best setting for an "Old West" character. Utah has a really fascinating history in its own right but is in many ways not particularly representative of the West as a region because the population that settled it was so unique.)

One time period that would be interesting for a Mormon Historical Doll would be the late 1860s. This is still pretty close to Addy's time, but the character would be very regionally and demographically different, of course. A really big element of the technological development in the late 19th century was the expansion of railroad networks, including the Transcontinental Railroad, which was completed in Utah in 1869. It might be really cool to do something with this! Utah Mormons approached the new railroad with both excitement about economic opportunity and some sense of threat to their way of life, which had been shaped by previous geographic isolation from mainstream (and non-Mormon) America. How would a child approach this?

I also think a doll set in the 1880s would be really interesting. This was a really fraught time in Utah history, and the most intense period of anti-polygamy legislation and prosecutions (you'll sometimes hear people call this the Mormon Underground era because so many prominent men went "on the underground" to avoid arrest). In terms of technological and social changes, the advent of the railroad did change Utah society a lot, in part because it enabled a lot more non-Mormons to move to Utah. While still a majority especially outside of Salt Lake City, Mormons were no longer an overwhelming majority and also no longer were able to completely control state politics (partially because the new residents were voting as well, but also because there was a long-term effort by the federal government to install appointed officials to try and break the political power of the church.) So you are looking at a more religiously diverse Utah, a shifting balance of power, and a lot of federal policies viewed by Mormons as oppressive, and corresponding political backlash.

(Note: I would find an 1880s era Mormon doll absolutely fascinating, but it would be likely way more controversial even than the earlier pioneer doll would be, because modern LDS people would be way less enthusiastic about it. The pioneer doll would be from a period of their history that is really culturally glorified whereas a doll from the 1880s would be addressing a period of their history that most everyday non-historian LDS folks often find deeply uncomfortable. The 1860s doll might sort of split the difference, because conflict with the federal government over polygamy would be a more central issue than for an earlier doll but less than for an 1880s doll).

I'm just going to post this for now, but I'll reblog with some further ideas about possible storyline/theme/character choices they could make. I'm trying to clean my apartment lol.

[abybweisse]

Ch210, Where is F. O. L. Orphanage?

⚠️ long post ⚠️

I was discussing that question with @juxl25, and I think we came up with a good choice for its location.

The only information we know for sure is that it's in Norfolk, and that it's near a river. We also know Finny and Snake took a train to a nearby town and walked to the orphanage.

We also know there's a wind pump that drains water from the surrounding marshland. There are at least four major rivers in the area used for draining the marshes: Yare, Bure, Wensum, and Ouse.

Juxl25 suggested River Yare and the historic Red Mill (the wind pump) as the area but was looking at Manor House, which is farther away, in the village (proper) of Haddiscoe, Norfolk. After some digging around, I agree with River Yare and Red Mill/Langley Detached mill (originally called Langley detached windpump...

...or Langley Detached drainage pump).

They are in an area northeast of Haddiscoe village, called Haddiscoe Island (these days), thanks to a canal added to connect River Yare and River Waveney farther inland, creating an island of the area and making the marshland there more remote/less accessible.

There's a historic farmhouse just east of River Yare, not far from Red Mill, called Raven Hall. And Raven Hall would be a premium location to have a secluded facility like F. O. L. Orphanage.

There's only one thing I don't like about the buildings shown for Raven Hall -- it's a bit farther from the drainage pump than I want it to be, and it's just a large farmhouse (almost 3000 sqft) and a long barn (almost 900 sqft). But there's a cool space just south of those buildings, which would be ideal for the main orphanage, as well as a spot for the stables/barn leading closer to the drainage pump, farther south. Here are two options for the placement of F. O. L.:

In each case, I've placed the stables to the west of the main house, as a small red rectangle (more or less), while the windpump was already marked by a red dot farther southwest. Looking at the bend of the river on Theo's image of a map of the place, the placement on the right (above) might be the better match. Then again, it could be exactly where Raven Hall is located. And Raven Hall, having been built in the 17th century (or at least 1700), is older than Red Mill (built in 1840).

Too bad I can't see the placement of the windpump on his map, but I think it's somewhere behind the speech bubbles on the left side of the panel.

We see that the windpump at the orphanage has a low roof of some kind, and juxl25 explains that someone was probably living onsite just to maintain it full time. I did find at least one pic showing Red Mill with what could be the old maintenance shed/shelter, but it seemed to be on the wrong side. Who knows? I guess it depends on which way the sails are facing to catch the wind? But the low roof in the panel is probably just the top of some shed.

Oh, and near St Olaves, there's a train station called Haddiscoe Station. They could have got off the train there and made their way north to the orphanage by foot. Or did they hitch a ride part of the way? I'll have to go back and check.

I'm still considering one other location, not far from there, but I won't post it unless further research looks more promising.

Hey... can you imagine if all this time... F. O. L. was just some place name reference... like "Farmhouse on Langley" (Marshes)?!?

Please let these kids break the windpump and flood the tunnels.... 🙏

[stephensmithuk]

The Sign of the Four: The Statement of the Case

CW for the end of this as it includes discussions of child murder and detailed discussions of capital punishment.

Turbans have never been particularly common in the United Kingdom; these days, they are most likely to be worn by West African women or those who are undergoing chemotherapy.

It was the norm for a married woman to be referred to as "Mrs. [husband's name]", especially on something like a dinner invite. Historically, in the English common law system the United States also uses, a woman's legal identity was subsumed by her husband on marriage, in something called coverture. In some cases, a woman who ran her own business could be treated as legally single (a femme sole) and so sue someone - or be sued. This practice was gradually abolished, but did fully end until the 1970s.

@myemuisemo has excellently covered the reasons why Mary would have been sent back to the UK.

As you were looking at a rather long trip to and from India, even with the Suez Canal open by 1878, long leave like this would have been commonplace.

The Andaman Islands are an archipelago SW of what is now Myanmar and was then called Burma. The indigenous Andamanese lived pretty much an isolated experience until the late 19th century when the British showed up. The locals were pretty hostile to outsiders; shipwrecked crews were often attacked and killed in the 1830s and 1840s, the place getting a reputation for cannibalism.

The British eventually managed to conquer the place and combine its administration with the Nicobar Islands. Most of the native population would be wiped out via outside disease and loss of territory; they now number around 500 people. The Indian government, who took over the area on independence, now legally protect the remaining tribespeople, restricting or banning access to much of the area.

Of particular note are the Sentinelese of North Sentinel Island, who have made abundantly clear that they do not want outside contact. This is probably due to the British in the late 1800s, who kidnapped some of them and took them to Port Blair. The adults died of disease and the children were returned with gifts... possibly of the deadly sort. Various attempts by the Indian government (who legally claimed the island in 1970 via dropping a marker off) and anthropologists to contact them have generally not gone well, with the islanders' response frequently being of the arrow-firing variety. Eventually, via this and NGO pressure, most people got the hint and the Indian government outright banned visits to the island.

In 2004, after the Asian tsunami that killed over 2,000 people in the archipelago, the Indian Coast Guard sent over a helicopter to check the inhabitants were OK. They made clear they were via - guess what - firing arrows at the helicopter. Most of the people killed were locals and tourists; the indigenous tribes knew "earthquake equals possible tsunami" and had headed for higher ground.

In 2006, an Indian crab harvesting boat drifted onto the island; both of the crew were killed and buried.

In 2018, an American evangelical missionary called John Allen Chau illegally went to the island, aiming to convert the locals to Christianity. He ended up as a Darwin Award winner and the Indians gave up attempts to recover his body.

The first British penal colony in the area was established in 1789 by the Bengalese but shut down in 1796 due to a high rate of disease and death. The second was set up in 1857 and remained in operation until 1947.

People poisoning children for the insurance money was a sadly rather common occurrence in the Victorian era to the point that people cracked jokes about it if a child was enrolled in a burial society i.e. where people paid in money to cover funeral expenses and to pay out on someone's death.

The most infamous of these was Mary Ann Cotton from Durham, who is believed to have murdered 21 people, including three of her four husbands and 11 of her 13 children so she could get the payouts. She was arrested in July 1872 and charged with the murder of her stepson, Charles Edward Cotton, who had been exhumed after his attending doctor kept bodily samples and found traces of arsenic. After a delay for her to give birth to her final child in prison and a row in London over the choice the Attorney General (legally responsible for the prosecution of poisoning cases) had made for the prosecuting counsel, she was convicted in March 1973 of the murder and sentenced to death, the jury coming back after just 90 minutes. The standard Victorian practice was for any further legal action to be dropped after a capital conviction, as hanging would come pretty quickly.

Cotton was hanged at Durham County Goal that same month. Instead of her neck being broken, she slowly strangled to death as the rope had been made too short, possibly deliberately.

Then again, the hangman was William Calcraft, who had started off flogging juvenille offenders at Newgate Prison. Calcraft hanged an estimated 450 people over a 45-year career and developed quite a reputation for incompetence or sadism (historians debate this) due to his use of short drops. On several occasions, he would have to go down into the pit and pull on the condemned person's legs to speed up their death. In a triple hanging in 1867 of three Fenian who had murdered a police officer, one died instantly but the other two didn't. Calcraft went down and finished one of them off to the horror of officiating priest Father Gadd, who refused to let him do the same to the third and held the man's hand for 45 minutes until it was over. There was also his very public 1856 botch that led to the pinioning of the condemned's legs to become standard practice.

Calcraft also engaged in the then-common and legal practice of selling off the rope and the condemned person's clothing to make extra money. The latter would got straight to Madame Tussaud's for the latest addition to the Chamber of Horrors. Eventually, he would be pensioned off in 1874 aged 73 after increasingly negative press comment.

The Martyrdom of Man was a secular "universal" history of the Western World, published in 1872.

[cleolinda]

Varney the Vampire - chapter 3

Chapter 2: Varney cannot get over a wall.

Chapter 3: Originally posted on Livejournal, December 7, 2010, in the same post as chapters 1-2. The recap was short, so I've expanded it. Content note: blood.

CHAPTER III.

THE DISAPPEARANCE OF THE BODY. -- FLORA'S RECOVERY AND MADNESS. -- THE OFFER OF ASSISTANCE FROM SIR FRANCIS VARNEY.

Given that this serial is titled, you know, Varney the Vampire, I got to this header back in 2010 and blurted out, "O rly?," because that's how we talked back then. No, I did.

(There is no actual offer of assistance from Sir Francis Varney in this chapter. Ya rly.)

Previously on:

Henry had the weapon, and he pointed it full at the tall form with steady aim. He pulled the trigger -- the explosion followed, and that the bullet did its office there could be no manner of doubt, for the figure gave a howling shriek, and fell headlong from the wall on the outside.

Currently: GET HIS ASS

This was at once agreed to, and the whole three of them made what expedition they could towards a gate which let into a paddock, across which they hurried, and soon found themselves clear of the garden wall, so that they could make way towards where they fully expected to find the body of him who had worn so unearthly an aspect, but who it would be an excessive relief to find was human.

sloooow cab, meter runnin' 

Three hundred words later, the men go around the wall, examine the heathy (yes, heathy) vegetation and find... no vampyre. Three hundred and fifty words after that, it finally occurs to them to go back and see if Flora is, you know, dead or whatever.

"My senses," said Henry, "were all so much absorbed in gazing at that horrible form, that I never once looked towards her further than to see that she was, to appearance, dead. God help her! poor -- poor, beautiful Flora. This is, indeed, a sad, sad fate for you to come to. Flora -- Flora -- "

I am pretty sure that if the printer had let James Malcolm Rymer just have a ten-page lightswitch rave—doop doop doop. Flora. Flora. The Flora. Is down—he would have done it.

I summarized the family for you earlier, but I think this is actually the first time we hear that Marchdale is "Robert Marchdale, you whom I [Flora's mother] have known even from my childhood," and who will surely not deceive her. I don't think they've told us... why, exactly... he's living here, in 1840s terms of respectability. (I think I was more suspicious of this back in 2010 than I actually am now. Sometimes a family is a mother, her children, a man, and his crowbar.) Anyway, everyone is just letting Flora bleed out at their leisure (content note: here comes the blood):

The mother approached the bed-side of the insensible, perhaps murdered girl; she saw her, to all appearance, weltering in blood, and, overcome by her emotions, she fainted on the floor of the room. [...] She was quite insensible, and her face was fearfully pale; while that she breathed at all could be but very faintly seen. On some of her clothing, about the neck, were spots of blood, and she looked more like one who had suffered some long and grievous illness, than a young girl in the prime of life and in the most robust health, as she had been on the day previous to the strange scene we have recorded. [...] “A wound!" said the mother, and she brought a light close to the bed, where all saw on the side of Flora's neck a small punctured wound; or, rather two, for there was one a little distance from the other. "How came these wounds?" said Henry. "I do not know," [Flora] replied. "I feel very faint and weak, as if I had almost bled to death."

Please notice all the blood, and also the puncture wounds, from which the blood endeavors to pour, and which are consistent with those made by vampire fangs (a concept that this serial, after all, introduced). This is going to be important later, if you want to understand why I got halfway through Volume Two and suddenly melted down in unbelieving rage that this godforsaken book would try to fucking gaslight me as to whether any of this happened or not.

The Bannerworth family revives Flora with wine, because, when in doubt: booze. And then, while Flora is wailing and trembling and fainting, the family all looks over at the spooky portrait in her room (whose idea was that, anyway?) and realizes that... it looks just like the vampyre. Of course it does. But it's the ancestral portrait of Sir Runnagate (oh, why not) Bannerworth, "who first, by his vices, gave the great blow to the family prosperity."

(You know, I said "why not" when I wrote that years ago, but no, I want to know why! Why the fuck is a 1700s dude named RUNNAGATE? So I go google it, and I get this:

Corruption of renegade, influenced by run + agate (“on the way, agoing”).

1. A deserter, renegade or apostate. 2. A fugitive; a runaway.

I'm gonna hope this was a sobriquet their ancestor picked up from some salty descendants after he blew the family fortune, because otherwise, this is a real "dead dove: I don't know what I expected" situation.)

Henry then tells us that the spooky portrait is ninety years old, which I thought was Rymer trying to tell us that Sir Runnagate is actually Varney, and that's (at least) how long he's been around. Hell, maybe that's what he is trying to tell us right now; the storylines of serials tend to drift all over the place, and writers either forget what they started out saying, or they decide to contradict themselves and hope no one notices. But I get ahead of myself.

To finish the chapter: Henry, having promised Flora that he won't leave, camps out at her bedside with Marchdale's crowbar reloaded pistols—which I mention because it reminds me a lot of the men watching over Lucy in Dracula. Or reverse-reminds me, since Varney predates Dracula by fifty years. My point is, here's another Literary Vampire Tradition Moment: the maiden abed, and her protectors' vigil. Which is worth noting, because there are a number of moments that feel like something you've seen a hundred times, and then there are vast, oceanic swathes of wackery. As I said back in 2010, I had read half the entire serial by that point, and the opening chapter was the first and only episode of vampiring I had seen in some 300,000 words. BE STRONG, WE CAN DO THIS.

(Chapter 4, sparkle willing, will go up on Tuesday, March 21.)

[hannahmaysolis]

National Museum of Women in the Arts

Online Art Exhibition: Wanderer/Wonderer: Pop-ups by Colette Fu

Collette Fu crafts enormous pop-up books that are so detailed—they resemble mazes—that illustrate myths and legends and shed light on lesser-known cultures. 

First Picture:

This is a picture of Collette Fu creating her art piece.

Second Picture:

Title: Dai Food from the "We Are Tiger Dragon People" collection.

Concept: The Dai people, an ethnic minority in China's Yunnan Province, are acknowledged in this work. The photographer documented the area and its residents for three years. These pieces served as inspiration for this artwork.

Presentation: This book is about 60 pounds, it consists of ultra-chrome pigment ink, and Epson-enhanced matte paper mounted onto a cougar. The book has a smooth cover paper made up of black iris cloth. Its dimensions are 17x25x10.5 in. Featured in this piece in the Dai people's cultural foods. There is a young Dai woman who is cooking, she has her hair up and is decorated with flowers, she is wearing cultural attire and has an apron around the waist. I can pick out foods like kebabs, a pig`s head, grilled chicken, beef with red peppers, and spicy noodles. I also can see a type of leaf that is used to wrap food. This art piece incorporates a variety of colors and shapes.

I am quite the foodie. I think many of us who live in America and are not Chinese have this image of what "Chinese food" is. But just like many cultures, there is a variety of dishes. What I love about this artwork and find most fascinating about it is the 3D effect, the dishes look as if I could hold them.

Third Picture:

Title: Robin Museum (from Haunted Philadelphia), 2005-2006

Concept:

"Fu found inspiration for this book in the tragic story of young lovers who met secretly in the garden of Philadelphia`s Robin Museum. After the young woman`s family sent her away to try to break up the romance, she returned home to discover that her beau had been killed in the Vietnam war. Devasted, she went alone to the museum, found it locked, and was killed by a car as she dashed across the busy Benjamin Franklin Parkway. Fu associated this story with the unhappy love affair between French sculptor Camille Claudel (1864-1943) and Auguste Rodin (1840-1917), her mentor." (“Wanderer/Wonderer: Pop-Ups by Colette Fu | Online Exhibition”)

Presentation: This book is about 60 pounds, it consists of ultra-chrome pigment ink, and Epson-enhanced matte paper mounted onto a cougar. It has a smooth cover that is held by glue and Chinese joss paper with newspapers. Its dimensions are 53x36x21 in. Featured in this piece is Fu`s spin on the Robin Museums garden. We see fall leaves all around, and trees in the background that surround the centerpiece. Within the trees, sculptors are sticking out. These sculptors are pieces of Robin and Claudel`s work. In the center is a sculpture of a man and woman, representing Robin and Claudel.

This piece is very different from the second picture. The Dai food is colorful, and fun and creates a lively vibe. But in this art piece, there is a type of gloomyness and sorrowful attitude.

I don`t want to take away from you exploring these pieces yourself. Other artworks were presented in this art exhibition, I encourage you to check them out as well and learn of the stories that brought them together.

Fourth Picture:

Title: Ashima, (From the collection "We Are Tiger Dragon People"), 2008-2014

Fifth Picture:

Title: A Pop-up Book of Lillies, Roses, Iris, Pansies, Columbine, Love-In-A-Mist, Larkspur, And Other Flowers In A Glass Vase On Table Top, Flanked By A Rose And A Carnation, 2023

Website to Exhibition: https://nmwa.org/whats-on/exhibitions/online/wanderer-wonderer-pop-ups-by-colette-fu/

[sainamoonshine]

Ugh I had forgotten how much I hate the nanowrimo forum boards. I asked for suggestions for ridiculous fantasy religion schisms over there and people are critiquing my worldbuilding on a fundamental level and arguing with me about the basic setting of my story 🤦🏻‍♀️

Let’s try it here then:

(Original question & further clarifications under the cut)

Hello! So I’m writing a book set in a fantasy version of europe in the 1840s, and I need help creating a couple of religions for that world.

The context for the magic in the book is that a long time ago in antiquity, the goddess of creation was murdered and split into little parts. Then the parts turned into lights that basically swooshed into random people and these people became immortals and got magical powers. This bit is known, and no one is questioning that this is what happened.

But what I’d like to come up with it a few specific beliefs and religions that sprung up around that. I already have:

a group that think that the goddess knew this would happen, had planned or anticipated it, and the 300 magic immortal people are her gift to humanity. (I need a name for this belief)

another group that thinks that the goddess didn’t see it coming, and she’s just dead, and the magic was an unintended consequence. (Also needs a name)

it would follow that there would be a group who thinks the magic-people are the goddess’s punishment or revenge…

But while all of these are well and good, what I REALLY need is more pedantic sub-groups. Like you know how christianism keeps having schisms for the wildest stuff? For things like whether the mass is in latin or the language people actually speak, whether the priest looks at the people or is standing with his back to them, whether people can get divorced or whatever Henry VIII was on about… that sort of thing.

Please feel free to suggest me the most petty reasons why people could have slightly different versions of the same base religion in that world! The stranger the better!

Further clarifications:

The Holy Murder and subsequent Holy Dismemberment is not a myth of that world, or a creation story, it’s something that happened during the fantasy equivalent of the siege of Troy and literally thousand of people saw it happen.

The magic immortal people are not interested in being religion leaders and neither am I interested in writing that sort of story.

I don’t want to argue about how different that fantasy world would be from the real world, I want a fantasy 1848 europe and I am looking for an equivalent of « the queen of france hates her daughter in law because she is a protestant » in that setting. Except instead of christianity its a bizarro religion built around something that definitely happened 3000 years ago and the immortal eyewitnesses of that event who are mostly just trying to live their lives but have to deal with empires collecting them like pokemon cards and entire populations making up weird superstitions about them.

Once again, please try to give suggestions and not, you know, try to rewrite my worldbuilding from the ground up because you disagree with the impact that 300 random immortals would have on the world. I will get mad.

[thoughtportal]

If you’re a news junkie and read multiple news sources a day, you may notice sometimes that there is an article repeated almost word for word in more than one publication. That’s because the story originates from a wire service. News agencies like Reuters, Bloomberg, and the Associated Press (AP) hire journalists to write original articles that are published on the wire and picked up by a variety of subscribing news outlets. These articles will always have the journalist’s name included, and the news agency they work with.

In today’s changing and competitive media landscape, many outlets now rely on news agencies to provide their baseline news copy. This allows the outlet to employ fewer reporters and redirect resources instead to creating more robust editorial content to give the publication its unique flavour and characteristic “voice”.

News wires of all varieties were invented to help journalists do their job more effectively, and most are subscribed to

both news-agency and press-release-feed news wires. In fact, according to a study by Vitis Business Consulting, despite being quick to point out their flaws, 67 per cent of journalists use news wires with as many as 37 per cent checking them daily.

With our 24/7 news cycle and tech-dependent media landscape, it’s easy to forget that at one time, transmitting news from one location to the next was a multi-day affair. Without the benefit of the Internet, fax machine, or even a telephone, the early-mid 1800s were characterized by news being dependent on postal service and reporters going down to the docks in major coastal cities like Boston and New York to get transatlantic news from the ships arriving in port. But what about the reporters who didn’t live in a coastal city where they could access international news? And never mind international news, how did anyone quickly and efficiently find out about anything going on outside of their own city? Key words: “quickly” and “efficiently”.

Until the mid 1800s, news had to be transmitted through letters and the national postal service. Well, in 1846, five New York City newspapers decided that method wasn’t fast enough. Together they formed the Associated Press to create an express pony trail that would get news of the Mexican War to the northern United States quicker than the post. Shortly after, the Associated Press would have an even more effective tool at their disposal.

Enter the telegraph. The telegraph, developed by Samuel Morse (Morse code anyone?) in the 1830s and 1840s, allowed users to transmit and receive messages over long distances using wire and electricity. Telegraphs became a staple of news rooms world wide and were used to communicate news with each other. If a wire didn’t exist to connect certain cities, that’s where the carrier pigeons came in. In fact Reuters, now an internationally recognized news agency, began as a bird service, using pigeons to transmit messages between Brussels, Belgium and Aachen, Germany until the telegraph finally connected the two in the mid 1800’s.

As for international news, reporters still had to go down to the docks to meet the ships before heading back to transmit via telegraph to other news rooms in the region, until the first transatlantic wire came into permanent operation in the 1860s.

Since the telegraph’s transmission capacity was limited, the press discovered quite quickly that it was in their best interest to pool news-gathering, instead of competing for transmission over an already-crowded service.

The continued existence of multiple wire services proves that the benefits of news-pooling is still as relevant now as it was well over one hundred years ago. {read}

[fayes-fics]

how would Benedict (or Anthony) react to a reader with a strong Southern accent (southern as in Texan). Let’s say she was daughter of a Baron, high society. Just curious to see if they would find her accent somewhat alluring.

Hi Nonny!

So this is actually a very difficult question to be honest, as the scenario you suggest would not really be possible. Full disclosure, you are not going to like me for the way I answer this. (sorry) :)

Without going into a long explanation of the British peerage and its history, in the Regency time period the child of a Baron would be very unlikely to have an accent that was not British or possibly French.

In that time period, the Texan or even Southern accent as we know it did not really exist. That evolved (according to documentaries I have watched) after the American Civil War, which was much later. At that time the land we now know as Texas was owned by Spain then Mexico. It did not become a part of the union of United States until after the Regency time period (1840s I believe - someone correct me if I’m wrong on that).

Generally, from what I understand, Regency attitudes to the Americas, certainly among the aristocracy, was a place to be looked down on. Remember in the previous fifty years the Americans had turn coated from British rule lol. The United States were seen as a place to own land/exploit/gather resources/make a fortune, but not desirable to live if you were from the upper echelons of British society. Think Jack Featherington and his running away there after his disgrace haha. So generally, British society looked down on American society for many, many years beyond the Regency era.

I’m sure that is VERY boring and not AT ALL what you wanted me to answer lol.

But, given all the context above, I honestly don’t know how to answer this question? I’m so very sorry, please don’t be mad at me. :)

[lindsaywesker]

Good morning! I hope you slept well and feel rested? Currently sitting at my desk, in my study, attired only in my blue towelling robe, enjoying my first cuppa of the day.

Welcome to Too Much Information Tuesday. Though one of these facts is a fib!

Minch, Yoda’s first name is.

Bananas have more trade regulations than AK-47s.

About 20% of US children eat pizza on any given day.

In Oklahoma, it's illegal to get a bear drunk and then wrestle it.

The original Popeye got his strength from rubbing a magic hen.

Persistent hiccups can be stopped with a digital rectal massage.

The average IQ of all the serial killers who have been caught is 89.

Samuel L. Jackson was an usher at Martin Luther King Jr.’s funeral.

French employees are forbidden by law from eating lunch at their desks.

Ejaculation from a human typically happens at a speed of around 28 miles per hour.

The longer a whiskey is aged, the longer it takes for your body to get rid of the alcohol.

When the Bakerloo line was last cleaned, staff pulled out 6.5 tonnes of grime and fluff.

American judges give harsher sentences when their football team unexpectedly loses.

In Star Trek, when Mr. Spock says something is “impossible”, it happens 83% of the time.

People suffering from superior canal dehiscence syndrome can hear their own eyeballs moving.

If you make it to the airport without dying, you've already passed the deadliest part of plane travel.

In 2016, the head of MI6 said he wouldn’t hire James Bond because he does not act ethically enough.

The US National Security Agency has asked employees to spy on people with ‘dignity and respect’.

‘Russians in the gazebo’ (‘russere i lysthuset’) is an old-fashioned Danish euphemism for menstruation.

If you wanted to write a letter out of blood you would have to write it in under a minute before the blood thickens too quickly.

Having sex uses on average 2.8 times as much energy as sitting on the sofa, but playing the trombone uses 3.5 times as much.

If you get a blood transfusion but are given the wrong type of blood (A, B, O, AB) one of the symptoms is "a sense of impending doom".

Until the 1840s, there was no maximum size for a rugby team; matches were played with up to 300 players on the pitch at once.

In relationships, the ‘magic ratio’ is 5:1. Having five or more positive interactions for every negative interaction is seen as key to a stable marriage.

There are about 40 supervolcanoes around the world capable of claiming up to a billion lives, and we're about 24,000 years overdue for an eruption!

A flapjack bakery in Lancashire plan to launch a new product in time for Christmas. After extensive research, they’ve come up with a product name: Flaps.

In movies, where they use real life dog actors, the people who edit the film sometimes have to add CGI tails because the dogs can’t stop wagging as they are so happy.

Abraham Lincoln's son (Robert Todd Lincoln) was present at three different presidential assassinations. After McKinley, he decided not to accept any more invitations.

Dragonflies can inhale water through a long tube at the tip of their anus and save it. Later, if they need to, they can shoot the water out of their anus to make them fly faster.

Pythagoras drowned a student to death because the student proved the existence of irrational numbers which contradicted Pythagoras and his cults' (the brotherhood) beliefs.

In 1997, researchers discovered a giant pill millipede. It was given the Latin name ‘Zoosphaerium darthvaderi’ thanks to the shape of its anal shield which resembles Darth Vader’s helmet.

The mayor of San Pedro Huamelula, Mexico is expected to marry an alligator. The tradition dates back to pre-Hispanic times but has been updated. The alligator wears a white wedding dress and the groom kisses the bride.

An early use of ‘asshole’ is found in a 1933 U.S. story about a family called ‘The Eastons’. “When God got the job done, there was a big pile of assholes left over. It looks to me like The Almighty just throwed all them assholes together and made the Easton family.”

Pepsi once had the 6th largest military in the world after the price of Russian Vodka couldn't cover a deal for Pepsi products. They traded 17 submarines, a frigate, a cruiser and a destroyer. The president of Pepsi Co. told National Security, "We are disarming the USSR faster than you are!"

Okay, that’s enough information for one day. Have a tremendous and tumultuous Tuesday! I love you all.

[alliluyevas]

tagged by @when-did-this-become-difficult

Rules: Share the first line of your last ten published works on A03 or as many as you are able and see if there are any patterns!

a thousand tales in one (asoiaf)

There is a tale told in the Rock and its surrounds about the last Casterly–or the first Lannister, depending on how you look at it.

like the dawn you broke the dark (my whole world shook) (asoiaf)

“Tell the story about when we were born again,” Jaime begs for the hundredth time.

burning through the bloodline (born from dark water) (hotd)

Alys likes to say she does not scare easy, but when she first sees Vhagar, her breath catches in her throat and she fights the urge to run.

something old, something new (big love)

John Wesley Grant, named for a preacher two generations gone, stopped one day in 1840 in the street of Manchester and listened to another preacher and a restored gospel.

I love America (her secret's safe with me) (big love)

Lois will be seventeen this year and it’s past time to think of marriage, apparently.

surely you are my bone and my flesh (big love)

Margene, Nicki thinks, has been absolutely insufferable since she got pregnant.

ghosts and other things that go bump in the night (big love)

“So let me get this straight--they just come to strangers’ houses, demand candy, and leave? Am I missing anything here?”

the heart must bear the longest part (big love)

The first night after she returns to her father’s house, Nicki sleeps more soundly than she has in years.

still chasing things that I can't have (big love)

Nicki is twelve years old as of yesterday, and overall it hadn’t been one of her better birthdays.

all the lives we ever lived (and all the lives to be) (asoiaf)

The Drowned God calls his uncle back to the ocean, wading deep into the water.

Thoughts: I tend to start with pretty short sentences! A lot of these have a kind of backward-looking lens to them: three of them refer to the story protagonist's family history/legend whether recent or in the comparatively distant past. This doesn't surprise me as I tend to write backstory fic most often and a lot of that focuses on family dynamics. I also have a few first lines that hook in by either hinting at interpersonal conflict within the story or alluding to a values conflict between the story and the prospective audience (Lois being seventeen thinking about getting married or Nicki in "ghosts and other things" not knowing what trick-or-treating is).

tagging @halfagod @medievalcat and anyone else who wants to do this, i don't remember how many of y'all have ao3

[sahmandbean]

How to Build an Italianate Victorian Home (Base Game and Beginner Friendly Victorian) In the Sims 4 Like a Nerd

Although there is some debate as to whether this is truly a Victorian, the Italianate found great popularity in the United States around the 1840s-1880s. Its main architectural rival was the Greek Revival, which I have a post on here if you enjoy the rectangular, symmetrical façade paired with low pitched roofs and friezes. This is the only "beginner friendly" Victorian I put together this season, so even if you're newer to the game, your Sims can still live in class and elegance here. Let's build!

As usual, if you prefer video tutorials or need clarification on nay of the points here, this is the original.

One of the primary goals of the Italianate Victorian was to help its residents feel closer to the outdoors. This was accomplished through building on large lots, utilizing tall windows and ceilings, and keeping the landscaping "natural". The historical colors included lots of earthy tones and neutrals, although you can do whatever you want. As always, you can play however you like, but if you're interested in building up a new set of skills and exploring more techniques and architectural types, this series will help with that.

Floorplan

The first floor will use medium or tall walls, and the second floor will use medium, or possibly short if you are adding a third floor. I recommend using medium on the top floor, not short, so you can use one of the larger friezes. (You can also check out the Greek Revival for some tips on how to get a less ornate frieze.) The front of these homes was typically quite flat, with an occasional balcony or low roof over the front door. The sides were similarly quite rectangular with occasional bump outs and deep decks on the first floor only. This particular build ended up being a rectangular footprint, but even larger homes are basically rectangles attached to rectangles. While this may not feel as fancy as the Queen Anne, it is remarkably more simple to construct and furnish, and still feels super fancy. Rooms generally opened one into another, although you may see centralized hallways like here in some homes, especially larger ones. The kitchen would be at the back, and the large rooms meant bathrooms could be added without having to be as cramped as in other styles were the rooms were initially much smaller. Fireplaces would be placed on internal walls.

Exterior

You can use brick and/or siding in a neutral or earthy color for most Italianates, although depending on the world you may also use some stone. The windows will be tall, and capped with a pediment (triangular piece that sticks out a few inches to "cover" the top of the windows") or inverted-U crown, which was what I was trying to mimic here. If you have Discover University, that pack has some good window options, as well. Height is more important than ornamentation, and shutters are optional. The house will be set up on a foundation that can be brick or stone, and some homes will have a deck wrap all the way around. However, unlike other Victorian homes, the decks will be mostly just on the main floor. In this build I just put one on the back. Wherever you add a main level deck, you will roof it. The main roof will be hipped and low pitched, or potentially even flat. To get this roofline I pulled the eaves out two and pitched the roof to make it look like the frieze was acting as corbels and supporting the roof. Columns are also a nice detail, and will be rounded and generally white or painted to match the home's color scheme.

Landscaping will be natural, but planned. Use plants from the world to help it look natural, keep the shapes organic, and leave some space for lawns and walking paths if you're really going for that estate feel.

Interior

You can connect rooms with double doors or arches, and the kitchen will be at the back of the home. Floor will be wood planks of any tone, and the walls will be earth colors with paneling or molding to match the floor.

If you want to make a more contemporary Italianate, try these:

Lighten the colors all around. Try white or another light color outside and in.

Remove useless ornamentation. Skip the paneling and molding, simplify the spandrels, fences, and frieze, and update kitchen and bathroom cabinets and fixtures.

Keep the tall windows, but consider going for the single-pane windows instead of the fancier ones.

Bonus tips! The Italianate has a very iconic exterior, despite it being so plain, so changing out the siding for something more contemporary, like white plaster, and flattening the roof can still read as an Italianate but bring it straight into the 21st century.

If you'd like to see floorplans and more inspiration, you can check out my Pinterest board here.

This build is on the gallery, as well as a larger one and a micro. I really enjoyed building this one and now I have at least three, and I don't plan on stopping. My ID is sahmandbean and this lot is Italianate Shell. You can also check out Holiday Italianate (Base Game plus the free Holiday stuff) and Micro Italianate (uses Discover University).

If you want to check out this build and the rest of Build Like a Nerd: Season One, you can find loads of builds on my YouTube channel, sahm and bean.

Thanks so much for building with me today! This has quickly become one of my favorite styles, and I hope you like it, too.

[jamesfmurphy]

Truth Bombs…

Security without liberty has a name: Prison

“Democracy is two wolves and a lamb voting on what to have for lunch. Liberty is a well-armed lamb contesting the outcome of the vote.” ~Benjamin Franklin

"Arms discourage and keep the invader and plunderer in awe, and preserve order in the world as well as property... Horrid mischief would ensue were the law-abiding deprived of the use of them." ~Thomas Paine

A [person] who demands further gun control legislation is like a chicken who roots for Colonel Sanders."

- Larry Elder, radio personality

"One of the ordinary modes, by which tyrants accomplish their purposes without resistance, is, by disarming the people, and making it an offense to keep arms."

-- Constitutional scholar and Supreme Court Justice Joseph Story, 1840

"Gun control has cleared the way for seven major genocides since 1915, in which governments gone bad murdered 56,000,000 persons, including millions of children."

-Aaron Zelman of Jews for the Preservation of Firearms Ownership

"Americans used to roar like lions for liberty; now we bleat like sheep for security." — Norman Vincent Peale

"They who can give up essential liberty to obtain a little temporary safety deserve neither liberty nor safety." ~Benjamin Franklin

“A fear of weapons is a sign of retarded sexual and emotional maturity” - Sigmund Freud

“Though defensive violence will always be a sad necessity in the eyes of men of principle, it would be still more unfortunate if wrongdoers should dominate just men.” ~St. Augustine

“If ye love wealth greater than liberty, the tranquility of servitude better than the animating contest for freedom, go home and leave us in peace. We seek not your council nor your arms. Crouch down and lick the hand that feeds you, and may posterity forget that ye were our countrymen.” ~Samuel Adams

"I sympathize with people who want to ban guns, but I can't agree with them. We have to be careful in our zeal to abolish guns that we don't wind up with counter-productive legislation that will leave armed only the people most likely to do harm with them." ~Hugh Downs, veteran ABC newsman

"Guns are not always the answer, but obtaining a firearm has saved the lives of many... While I favor keeping guns out of the hands of felons, youths and the mentally impaired, I oppose adding more bureaucratic obstacles that attempt to fight crime by disarming its victims." ~Peter Kasler, NY Times, 13 Jul, 1991

"If someone has a gun and is trying to kill you, it would be reasonable to shoot back with your own gun." ~The Dalai Lama

" ... the right to defend one's home and one's person when attacked has been guaranteed through the ages by common law." -Martin Luther King

"When a strong man, fully armed, guards his house, his possessions are safe." Luke 11:21

"After [someone goes on] a shooting spree, they always want to take the guns away from the people who didn't do it. ~William S. Burroughs

When seconds count between living or dying, the police are only minutes away." ~Phillip Van Cleave

[whitepolaris]

The Ghost House of Plains

Sometime between 1840 and 1850, Sumter County resident Matthew Rylander constructed a sizable home a few miles outside of what would become Plains. The structure, plantation style with Greek Revival elements, has double doors at the front and back and a wide fourteen-foot-long hallway that divides the house. Before Jimmy Carter became President Jimmy Carter, he and his wife, Rosalynn, rent the house, which they loved and wanted to buy. However, its owner refused to sell.

In 1973, when Mrs. Carter was First Lady of the state of Georgia, she told the ghostly story of the family who had lived there. Mrs. Carter and some of her dearest friends visited the house, accompanied by Mrs. Gussie Abrams Dewitt Howell, the resident at the time. With them was Jacqueline Cook, a writer with the Atlanta Journal-Constitution Sunday Magazine, which published a lengthy article about the visit.

"I don't know when I first heard it was haunted," said Mrs. Carter, who grew up in nearby Plains. "Over the years, there were many bizarre occurrences, but one story I remember was that a light in the attic window was a candle kept burning by a lady so soldiers would know where to hide during the Civil War.

"When I was a little girl, my best friend was Jimmy's sister, Ruth," Mrs. Carter said. "We had to walk by here to visit each other because I lived in Plains and the Carters lived in the country. We were about eleven, and we were so afraid of the house that we walked down in the woods."

The two children took the long way, descending into a ravine shaded by dense woods. That would seem to be a frightening locale for young girls, but to them it was preferable to passing the haunted house.

"I'm sure the ghostly manifestations persisted," Rosalynn continued, "but I tended to forget them when Jimmy returned from the Naval Academy and we began to date. When we married, I moved about with him. Following the navy duty, we returned to Plains in 1953. It was during this time that we began to visit Dr. Thad Wise, who was then living in the haunted house."

"Dr. Wise thoroughly enjoyed the psychic phenomena which continued to surround this house," Rosalynn stated. "When we visited him, he kept us amused with ghost stories. One was about the little white dog which would come up on the porch when you were sitting there. IF anyone reached down to pat the dog, it would disappear."

Inez Laster, Wise's cook during that period, accompanied the 1973 expedition. "It was a real spook house," she said. "Things started happening when Dr. Thad was sick. I heard someone knocking on the door of that room. The door slammed open and then shut back. Then I heard walking. Later I saw a woman with a long white dress coming from toward the cemetery. I saw her from twelve whole months-I had to keep my job-and Dr. Thad could see her, too. . . . She would come in the daytime, and when she came at night, she carried a light as big as the moon. You would always see her coming but never see her leave, because when she turned, she disappeared."

In An Hour Before Daylight: Memories of a Rural Boyhood, a recent book by Jimmy Carter, he recalled that Mrs. Howell requested his assistance when Dr. Wise was dying. Young Carter spent "some nights with them to help care for Dr. Thad. Late one night as she and I were preparing some food in the kitchen, we heard all three of his dogs begin a weird howling, unlike anything we had ever heard before. Miss. Abrams [who would become Mrs. Howell] rushed into the bedroom and found that Dr. Thad had just died. We assumed that the dogs had seen his spirit leaving the house."

The most famous intense paranormal activity occurred in the front west room of the structure.

Jimmy Carter recounted a story about the room to the Americans Times-Recorder: "One night, Rosalynn and I were in our bedroom when we heard a loud, house-shaking crash like a piece of furniture had fallen over or something, and we could tell it was coming from that front room. But when we went in there to check it out, we found nothing out of place."

"I really tried to discount these kinds of tales," Jimmy went on, "but I sometimes thought I had glimpses of the searching woman."

Long before the Carters, Tink Faircloth occupied the house in 1940. When his brother Sonny arrived for a visit, Tink put him in the haunted room for the night. Before daylight, Sonny had his luggage packed and was waiting only for the family to rise before he departed. During the night, he reported, some force had levitated him out of the bed, placed him on the floor and then lifted him back onto the mattress.

"Old folks say someone died dissatisfied and wanting to tell about something hidden to make a spook act this way," Laster explained. "It's a house you can fear," Rosalynn added, "but love at the same time, because of its beauty."

"Ain't nobody been in that house for quite a while," said Bobby Salter, a local entrepreneur. "The haunts might be restless out there."