#Tashkurgan

[aswiya]

Three Tajik teenage girls chat with each other in Tashkurgan. Pamir Mountains, Xinjiang Province, People's Republic of China.

Earl & Nazima Kowall

#Tajik #youth #tashkurgan #pamir #Xinjiang #China #earl kowall #nazima kowall #asia

[ancestorsalive]

Photographer NDA Li Xing Zhao

"Through the unknown Tashkurgan unveils an unworldly world I discovered on the Pamir Plateau. At China's west gate in the eastern part of the Pamirs on the "roof of the world" is the Tashkurgan Tajik Autonomous County in Xinjiang. The Tajiks reside in relative isolation in the snow-capped Pamir Mountain range of West China near the borders of Afghanistan, Pakistan and Tajikistan. There are about 41,000 Tajiks living in Tashkurgan. These peoples live in harmony and with intimacy born out of mutual trust and love. From 2009 until now, I stayed for several month photographing the tajiks nomads, using a large-format digital camera Hasselblad and Profoto lighting. I was able to arrange an old pickup truck and a Tajiks driver. We travelled this sparsely populated landscape searching for the Tajiks nomads, staying with the families we encountered along the way."

https://www.photoawards.com/winner/zoom.php?eid=8-46418-12

#Photography #NDA Li Xing Zhao #Tashkurgan #Pamir Plateau #People #Folkways #China #Xinjiang #Tajiks #nomads #Photo Awards #Ancestors Alive! #What is Remembered Lives #Vimeo

[tatert07s]

pls tell me all about shahnozas clothing design I am so interested it looks so cool

HEHEHEHE, I’m so glad you asked.

Her color palette is red and derived from the palette of the Tajikistan flag. Red represents as unity.

Her clothing utilizes Persian, Tajik, and Pamir elements due to the ethnic group she’s supposed to represent, her being Pamir-Tajik.

Persia is included because all of Central Asia, used to be a part of the Persian Empire. And a lot of the elements from Iran, were brought to us. I’m mentioning this because there is a bit of an overlap, culturally, where you can find similar characteristics between the two countries. But, they’re still very different locations (different dialects in the language, customs, traditions, etc).

Also, Tajiks originally migrated from Iran before settling into Central Asia; however that of course, predates way before the Persian Empire (it was a very long time ago too, LOLLL).

Her field outfit takes inspiration from Persian Immortal soldiers from the Achaemenid Dynasty. She wears a war mask as well. Typically, they have moustaches, which symbolizes pride/courage, and is for intimidation. I think they’re more cute than scary. :3 Her spike plate is impractical, and is just for the appeal in her silhouette LMAOOO.

The Winter Palace outfit mainly takes inspiration from Tashkurgan Pamirs. They follow the same rules with Tajik-style clothing with the chakan (robe/dress) and jizor (alternate names might be sirowal) pants.

Her base game outfit uses traditional Tajik clothing, with a kurta (except she has it sleeveless). The design uses the ikat-style of dyeing the fabric, which is also found in many cultures, so it doesn’t only pertain to Central Asia.

Thank you so much for asking 😭🫶🏼 I love representing things from Central Asia, and the diversity each country has with their clothing and history.

#tater asks #tater babbles #shahnoza lavellan #inquisitor lavellan

[natures-moments]

K2 is the second highest mountain in the world, after Mount Everest, at an altitude of 8614 meters. It has a prominence of 4020 meters, and topographic isolation of 1315.59 km. It is located on the China-Pakistan border between Baltistan, in the Guilgit-Baltistan region of northern Pakistan, and the Tashkurgan Autonomous County in Sinkion, China. K2 is the highest point in the Karakorum mountain range and the highest point in Pakistan and Sinkion.

[barbariankingdom]

Outer walls of the 19th century Indian style Tashkurgan Palace outside Mazar-E-Sharif, northern Afghanistan.

Picture by Michael Runkel.

[higashimacau]

2010年 中国／タシュクルガン　

2010 China / Tashkurgan

[kneedeepincynade]

Hello and welcome to another post,yes this one is also machine translated,as always the translation is at the bottom

The collective is on telegram

⚠️ IL SISTEMA DI AUTONOMIA REGIONALE NELLO XINJIANG - PARTE 1 ⚠️

⚖️ Come scritto in precedenza, ogni gruppo etnico nello Xinjiang, indipendentemente dalla storia, livello di sviluppo, usi e costumi, gode del medesimo status di fronte alla Costituzione della Repubblica Popolare Cinese.

🇨🇳 Ogni cittadino dello Xinjiang, quindi, gode del diritto di partecipare all'Amministrazione degli Affari dello Stato, degli Affari Locali e all'Auto-Governo a livello di Comunità.

📄 In Cina è presente un Sistema di Autonomia Regionale, ed è una componente fondamentale del Sistema Politico Cinese.

✅ Sotto la guida unificata dello Stato, l'Autonomia Regionale è praticata nelle aree in cui i gruppi di minoranze etniche vivono in comunità compatte.

🏛 Gli Organi di Auto-Governo sono costituiti per esercitare il Principio di Autonomia a norma di Legge, e l'Autonomia Etnica Regionale, nonché le aree autonome, e non sono proprietà esclusiva di alcun gruppo etnico.

📕 L'Autonomia Regionale nello Xinjiang è praticata in Cinque Prefetture:

🏔 Prefettura Autonoma Mongola di Bayingolin.

⛰ Prefettura Autonoma Mongola di Bortala.

🌅 Prefettura Autonoma Kirghisa di Kizilsu.

🏯 Prefettura Autonoma Hui di Changji.

🏞 Prefettura Autonoma Kazaka di Ili.

📕 Inoltre, l'Autonomia Regionale è praticata in Sei Contee:

⛩ Contea Autonoma Hui di Yanqi.

🌺 Contea Autonoma Xibe di Qapqal.

🌾 Contea Autonoma Kazaka di Mori.

🐎 Contea Autonoma Mongola di Hoboksar.

🏔 Contea Autonoma Tajika di Tashkurgan.

🏜Contea Autonoma Kazaka di Barkol.

📄 Ogni area autonoma esercita il potere di governare i rispettivi affari locali e partecipare alla pari all'Amministrazione degli Affari di Stato.

📖 Secondo la Costituzione e la Legge Statale, il legislatore di una regione autonoma, nell'esercizio dei poteri di una circoscrizione amministrativa di livello provinciale, ha il potere di emanare norme sull'esercizio dell'autonomia regionale e altre norme particolari secondo le condizioni locali.

📊 Dal 1979, il Congresso del Popolo della Regione Autonoma Uigura dello Xinjiang e il suo Comitato Permanente hanno formulato un totale di 699 Regolamenti Locali, hanno approvato 54 Risoluzioni e 239 regolamenti separati presentati da città a livello di prefettura, prefettura autonoma o contea autonoma.

🧾 Fonte

🌸 Iscriviti 👉 @collettivoshaoshan

⚠️ THE REGIONAL AUTONOMY SYSTEM IN XINJIANG - PART 1 ⚠️

⚖️ As previously written, every ethnic group in Xinjiang, regardless of history, level of development, customs and traditions, enjoys the same status under the Constitution of the People's Republic of China.

🇨🇳 Every citizen of Xinjiang, therefore, enjoys the right to participate in the Administration of State Affairs, Local Affairs and Community-wide Self-Government.

📄 In China there is a Regional Autonomy System, and it is a fundamental component of the Chinese Political System.

✅ Under the unified leadership of the state, Regional Autonomy is practiced in areas where ethnic minority groups live in compact communities.

🏛 The Self-Government Bodies are set up to exercise the Principle of Autonomy in accordance with the law, and the Regional Ethnic Autonomy, as well as the autonomous areas, and are not the exclusive property of any ethnic group.

📕 Regional Autonomy in Xinjiang is practiced in Five Prefectures:

🏔 Mongolian Autonomous Prefecture of Bayingolin.

⛰ Mongolian Autonomous Prefecture of Bortala.

🌅 Kyrgyz Autonomous Prefecture of Kizilsu.

🏯 Changji Hui Autonomous Prefecture.

🏞 Kazakh Autonomous Prefecture of Ili.

📕 In addition, Regional Autonomy is practiced in Six Counties:

⛩ Yanqi Hui Autonomous County.

🌺 Xibe Autonomous County of Qapqal.

🌾 Kazakh Autonomous County of Mori.

🐎 Mongolian Autonomous County of Hoboksar.

🏔 Tajika Autonomous County of Tashkurgan.

🏜Kazaka Autonomous County of Barkol.

📄 Each autonomous area exercises the power to govern their respective local affairs and participate equally in the Administration of State Affairs.

📖 According to the Constitution and the State Law, the legislator of an autonomous region, in the exercise of the powers of an administrative district of the provincial level, has the power to issue regulations on the exercise of regional autonomy and other particular regulations according to local conditions .

📊 Since 1979, the People's Congress of the Xinjiang Uyghur Autonomous Region and its Standing Committee have formulated a total of 699 Local Regulations, passed 54 Resolutions and 239 separate regulations submitted by cities at the prefecture, autonomous prefecture or autonomous county level.

🧾 Source

🌸 Subscribe 👉 @collectivoshaoshan

#socialism #china #italian #translated #xi jinping #communism #collettivoshaoshan #xinjian region #xinjiang #chinese communist party #socialist

[southpacifictravel]

Bactrian camels were once a mainstay of the Silk Road from China to Central and South Asia. These beasts were grazing near Lake Karakol between Kashgar and Tashkurgan, Xinjiang, China.

#bactrian camels #silk road #lake karakol #tashkurgan #xinjiang

[stochasticplanet]

37.658189°N, 75.874860°E Tashkurgan, Kashgar, Xinjiang, China photo by Jadranko Marjanovic

#Tashkurgan #Kashgar #Xinjiang #China

[restrictedareas-pr0ject]

Tashkurgan, Kashgar, Xinjiang, China

#Tashkurgan #Kashgar #Xinjiang #China #Restricted Areas

[celestialkavkazturk]

Discotheque in Tashkurgan, Xinjiang, China by Eric Lafforgue Via Flickr: People were celebrating a birthday, and Kyrgyz, Tajik and Uyghur were all having fun together.

#Karakoram Highway #Tashkurgan #Silk Road #Tourism #Travel #China #Kirgyz #Xinjiang #Fun #Entertainement #Dance #Ethnicity #Ethnic group #Turkic #Muslim #People's Republic of China #Xinjiang Uyghur Autonomous Region #Eastern and Central Asia #Turkic ethnic group #Person #People #Group of persons #Group of people #Indoor #Inside #Horizontal #Day time #Day view #Day #Woman

[uyghurmektep]

rachelmarlee

#Yarkand #tashkurgan #people #photography

[tatert07s]

Cultural Appreciation

My Lavellan inquisitor for DA is primarily inspired by both Tajik and Pamiri culture. Some would associate them being one of the same, but I disagree since linguistically and culturally, they’re not mutually exclusive due to the differences in the dialect despite them being Iranic languages.

The type of Pamiri ethnic group that I’m mostly basing her on is the Pamirs who live in Tashkurgan, which is an autonomous region in China. It used to be a part of Tajikistan, but the president there actually sold that portion of that land because he’s a pos (long story). Unfortunately in Tajikistan, Pamirs are treated aren’t treated very well. Most of them are separated into rural areas, so in a country that is already poor, they live in places that is worser than the country’s current economic conditions. The president, not too long ago, actually sent troops to some of the cities in Tajikistan, and genocided the innocent Pamiris living there. So, they’re often targets for persecution. :/

Despite their difficult conditions in their native country, their culture is very colorful and beautiful. In Tashkurgan, based on my observations, red seems like a very prominent color in most of their clothing. For us in Tajikistan, red symbolizes triumph, victory, but also the color of the sky during sunrise.

They wear these skull caps that most Central Asians wear, which are referred to as “tubeiteikas.” Most tubeiteikas have floral patterning on them in various colors. Braids are also very prominent in their culture, as they are Iranic (but the Turkic cultures in Central Asia, also wear braids). Not too sure on its symbolism in Iranic culture, but it’s worth noting that you do have to braid your hair during dances. Typically in most dancing attire, you wear tubeiteikas, braids, a chakan dress, and veils.

#culture #central asia #pamiristan #pamirs #tajikistan

[bryanhsiao]

前面兩張是 #20171017 在 #阿圖什 與沙漠爭地盤的幼年 #胡楊木 林，看回民表演、與回民同樂跳 #胡旋舞 的地方。 後面三張是 #20171018 在 #塔什庫爾干、前往塔縣途經的 #卡拉庫里湖 #塔合曼濕地 #白樺樹 ，沿路都是雪山、沙漠、鹽鹼地、塔什庫爾干羊、雙峰駱駝🐫、犛牛、小毛驢。 #Artux #TashKurgan #台灣丐幫 #好攝玩族 （在 Tash Kurghan, Xinjiang, China）

#阿圖什 #胡旋舞 #塔什庫爾干 #卡拉庫里湖 #好攝玩族 #塔合曼濕地 #tashkurgan #20171018 #artux #胡楊木 #20171017 #白樺樹 #台灣丐幫

[obnoxiouslylongandboring]

My Tunnels Are Long and Dark These Days

Featuring snapshots of the three most important road trips in Zemo and John's journey of working together.

To love is to pretend, don't try to love yourself again That is the worst kind of pain We're not those kinds of freaks, amen We're a different sort of breed of men

KARAKORAM HIGHWAY, CHINA-PAKISTAN

Zemo sat slouching in his seat, one hand hanging out the window of the truck, another draped on the steering wheel. The road stretched out in front of them, disappearing into the shadows of the mountains and forests. The sun was not up yet, it was early morning. 5AM, where no one rose out of bed but the office workers, the labourers, the soldiers coming out of their blanket shells. And where no one entered into slumber but the gravediggers, the night-shifters, the soldiers retreating into their blanket shells. The truck had been trotting along the road for hours, a small brown beetle with its headlights shining pale yellow, framing the one-meter radius ahead of it. Twenty-four hours ago had been when they first kicked the ignition into its churn in the region of Kashgar (a former trading town along the Silk Road), and when the prospects of a proper ceramic toilet had bit the dust. Twenty-four hours come and gone, with Zemo quietly helming the operation.

From Kashgar, they had traveled to Karakul under the cover of night, a journey that had taken them six hours. There had been no scenery of note but white moonlight glinting off the peaks of the two tall snowy mountains, Muztagh Ata and Mount Kongur. The shimmering scales of the Karakul lake had enraptured Zemo for hours, greeting him whenever a sharp jolt in the road woke him from his slumber.

And now, after resting a few hours at a local abode, they continued on to Tashkurgan, where from there they would go right into the borders of Pakistan.

A small muffled sound came from the lump beside him. “What’s the situation?” John mumbled blearily, poking his head through the covers. Zemo cast him a sideline glance, frowning at his sleep-mussed hair and squinted eyes. “It’s not your turn yet.”

With a snort, John closed his eyes again and rolled over, facing away from Zemo. He settled into another deep sleep.

A big, military-looking truck drove by them, momentarily blinding Zemo with its headlights. Heartbeat quickened in his chest, Zemo sat up straighter and observed the truck through the rearview mirror, hoping for its retreat. He glanced quickly towards his small driving compartment, doing a mental catalog of the materials there: a driver’s license, a forged visa to pass the border customs, fake passports with cover identities for himself and Walker… good, very good. All according to plan. Zemo rolled down the windows of his truck slightly, listening intently. The roar of the military truck did not fade into a distant hum. Instead, there was the screech of tires and the sudden whirring which indicated only one thing- Walker had better practiced the cover story that Zemo told him to, or the ensuing events would be catastrophic.

The urgent, piercing honking behind them startled John into wakefulness. He bolted up, then as if realizing that there was nowhere to go, settled back gingerly into his seat. “Zemo…”

Zemo tightened his grip on the wheels. Flexed his knuckles once, twice. Gently, as if petting a startled cat, rolled the ball of his foot over the brakes. “Anderson, don’t panic,” he says with practiced calm. “Remember what we rehearsed?”

“Yeah, Niki,” John replies. Though his face was carefully composed, the telltale twitching of his leg told Zemo otherwise.

All John had to do as Anderson was play the part of a slightly confused USA diplomat, heading from China to Pakistan over some matters of a proposed trade deal. Niki was to be his driver and translator, a man who had been an exchange student in China briefly where he picked up some basic Mandarin. Zemo had learned barely enough to get the both of them through a ten, fifteen-minute exchange. For the rest of his persuasion, he’d have to rely on the forged documents and the facade of confidence. If all went well, they would be sent on their merry way very quickly, and deliver all eight billion dollars worth of SHIELD information straight into the hands of Contessa. Of course, Zemo had taken an innocent, ‘accidental’ look at the confidential information, and deemed it useless enough to give to the woman. If it were anything that he found potentially dangerous, he would dispose of it immediately. Dry kindling could turn into a wildfire in Contessa’s hands, and that was the kind of risk he would never take.

“Stay calm. I will settle it quickly. The officers don’t want to make a big deal out of this either- we will be on our way soon,” he hissed to John as soon as he heard the crunch of boots on the tarmac.

Zemo rolled his window down to the silhouette of a heavily-clad soldier, who was covered head to toe in military gear. His eyes seemed to be narrowed, whether it was from suspicion or simply fatigue.

“有签证吗？” (Do you have a visa?)

“有。” (Yes.) Zemo reached into the compartment and retrieved the documents. The soldier took a quick look at them via the torchlight and passed it back to him. Then, tipping his chin at John- “他是你的朋友？” (Is he your friend?)

“他是我的老板。” (He's my boss.) Zemo struggled to recall the words for a moment. “我帮他翻译。” (I help him to translate.)

“对于游客来说，这时间挺早的。你们从卡拉库尔来的？” (This time of day is quite early for a tourist to be travelling. Are you coming from Karakul?)

Zemo blinked, processing the words. “可以…重复吗？” (Can you... repeat that?)

The guard sighed, then said slowly- “你们从，卡拉库尔，来? ” (You came, from, Karakul?)

The pieces slot into place in his head. 卡拉库尔 - Karakul. You… from… you came from Karakul.

“对，对。抱歉，我的华文不好。” (Yes, yes. Apologies, my mandarin isn't good.)

The guard laughed, but there was no condescension or meanness in it. “对于老外来说，发音挺好。” (For a foreigner, your pronunciation is pretty good.)

He continues, “好，好，谢谢。打扰你了。不多说了，你们走吧。” (Yes, yes, thank you. Sorry for the disturbance, you can go.)

Zemo, displaying the kindest smile he could, nodded and bade the man farewell. He turned off the lights in the car and smirked, knowing John could see it- This is how a professional works.

Another voice rang out, different from the one earlier. “先别走。” (Don't go yet.)

Zemo’s foot froze at the pedal. John’s expression was one of pure confusion and panic, his calmness now barely held together. Through the conversation earlier, Zemo had already sensed him vibrating with stagnant energy, and now it was manifesting in dangerous, careless ways. Zemo quickly reached out to touch John shoulder and calm him down- he's learnt that the other man responded best to physical contact, something he himself detested.

John’s wild gaze lifted to a point above his shoulder and lingered there.

The sharp rapping at the glass behind him are like bullets to his ears.

Zemo turns around, “为何…” (Why...)

His voice died in his throat. Standing there outside the car, equally shocked- Karlen Constantine.

Zemo could recognize that face anywhere. The rounded jaw, the brittle mouth, and that hateful, hateful look in his eyes.

The same look he gave when Zemo framed him for murder and left a two-million-dollar bounty on his head in Madripoor. Eight years ago.

Zemo takes quick stock of the situation. Judging by Constantine’s badges- high ranking. Heavily armed. A long, long road ahead of them. Walker has no shield, not yet. That was still in the process of being manufactured in Romania. Car chases weren’t an option. Evasion wasn’t an option. Anything other than negotiation would lead to their death. Zemo swallowed the saliva that rested heavily on his tongue.

“Karlen, please,” he says. John inhaled loudly behind him, he ignored it.

“You son of a bitch,” Karlen laughed gleefully. “Oh, this has made my day. I’m going to enjoy this.”

“What the fuck is going on, Zemo?” John snarled, ditching the pseudonym. He knew the game was up, the only question was how they were going to get out of this situation.

“Karlen, I’m invaluable to you,” Zemo continues carefully. His heart is pounding wildly in his chest, and it’s taking every iota of energy in him to keep his voice steady, to prevent the wave of panic from engulfing his mind. Any wrong word, any wrong move, and he would be dead within minutes. The car was bulletproof, but at such close range… with a shotgun, no less… Zemo knew the specs of the glass well, but he loathed taking risks. “I can-”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Karlen screamed, spittle hitting the glass. “Both of you, get the fuck out. Hands where I can see them. Slowly. Fucking do it slowly, or I’ll blow a hole in your leg.”

With steady breaths, Zemo complied. He could feel the adrenaline rushing up to his brain, reducing everything to a frantic pulsing in his muscles, the instinctual urge to run or fight. He got out of the car, hands raised to his shoulders, holding John’s gaze steady- don’t do anything rash. Follow my lead. And surprisingly, John did. He followed without a single word of protest, even though Zemo knew he was aching to throw a punch, to smash his fist into someone’s temple, or feel the satisfying recoil of a gun vibrating against his bones.

Zemo felt the cold barrel of a gun pressed between his eyes, at the same time that John jolted forward and cried, “No!”

“Don’t FUCKING move!” Karlen roared again, clicking off the safety. “Stay where you are or I’ll fucking kill him. Zemo, he answers to you, right? Tell him.”

Zemo glanced away to catch John’s horrified stare before his head was painfully yanked back by the roots of his hair. “Hey. Eyes on me. What did I say?”

“John, don’t move,” Zemo said slowly, grimacing as Karlen’s grip tightened.

“Now kneel.”

Zemo complied, breathing heavily. He could feel the fur of his jacket sticking to the back of his neck, and how hot his entire body felt, alight with energy. The aching of his scalp and knees had faded into a dull buzzing, overtaken by the hyperawareness of Karlen, his every movement, and Walker’s unyielding presence at his back.

As if sensing the same, Walker leaned forward carefully to place himself in Zemo's peripheral vision, discreet enough that Karlen wouldn't notice.

"Three years. Three years, I had to run and run and run. All because you stabbed me in the back, like the fucking coward you are. We were friends, but that didn't mean shit to you, did it? I'm glad your fucking wife and kids died. I hope they suffered. Oh yeah, I hope they screamed. I'm going to make this very painful for you too, Zemo."

Zemo's hands were trembling with the force of keeping them from Karlan's throat. It was taking everything he had to restrain himself. He tipped his chin up, looked straight into the matching pair of hateful eyes, and spat at Karlen's feet. "Fuck you."

It barely sounded like his own voice. The hate was thick sewer sludge, bubbling past the broken glass in his throat. A blinding burst of red splattered across his vision- Zemo flinched from the force at which the rage slammed into his mind. I will kill you. I will peel your skin from your bones, bit by bit. You're going to be screaming like a pig by the time I'm done. Constantine, you'll wish you were dead-

Karlen punched him so hard his entire body collapses to the side. Zemo tasted blood on his tongue, and god, it was pouring out of his nose. It wasn't broken, however- he turned his head just in time to prevent that. The lights look blurry- his eyes were watering.

Another kick connected with his stomach and Zemo cried out in pain, curling up into a ball.

Stop, stop, fucking stop, someone was shouting. When his head finally stopped ringing, he realised that it was John.

"You're friends with this guy?" Karlen laughed. "Oh, come on. He's just going to stab you in the back too. In fact, I'm sure he's already plotted multiple ways to kill you or fuck you up."

"He's tried," John laughed mirthlessly. His voice dropped into a low growl, a voice meant for spilling dirty little secrets- "Many, many times."

"And guess what, I'm still here. You aren't. A word of advice? Don't take yourself so seriously. You don't mean shit to him if you can't keep yourself around," John continued.

Zemo struggled to push himself back up, panting hard. He can't gather enough air to shout, stop talking. Those words laid like a brand against his skin, spelling out the name John Walker, a possessive claim.

I'm special, John Walker practically crowed.

And Zemo hated that he was right.

"If you like him so much, you can join him." Karlen laughed, raised his gun to John Walker, and fired.

He was fast.

John was faster.

The bullet buried itself harmlessly into the ground. The soldiers startle, reaching for their guns. One shot, Karlen's body dropped. The muffled thump launched Zemo's body into action. His fingers found a gun, and without blinking he whirled and pulled the trigger three times.

A few more shots rang out, and two more men are down.

Zemo swayed on his feet, but before he could collapse, there were strong arms around him, leading him to the car. He's shoved into it in a daze. John Walker entered through the other side, at the wheel.

"Shh. Shh. Hey. Hey, princess, look at me." A damp cloth was pressed into his hands, and he instinctively brought it up to his nose to staunch the bleeding. They're both breathing harshly from the fight. Gunpowder blue eyes stared back at him, brows furrowed. Light glanced off the mirror, staining John's hair a warm golden. Zemo was reminded of his vintage brass rulers, the beautiful old smell they had...

Wait. Light? He lifted his head to see the sunrise, then the time on the electronic clock. 6.05 AM. The tourist buses would be moving out soon, which meant-

"Drive," he whispered, and John kicked the car into high gear without a word.

"I'll text Contessa to put a roadblock on both sides and clear up the scene as quickly as possible. Once at Tashkurgan we'll leave the car, take the tourist bus, and blend in with the rest. I will arrange for Contessa to meet us earlier than was planned. When we arrive in Pakistan, we need to get past the border security. Even though we're compromised, this will not be risky. It's broad daylight and there are too many people at the border to cause a scene. The congestion will be in our favour. Clear?"

"Crystal."

"And the next time, I'll tell Contessa that travelling at night is a bad idea."

John frowned. "Hey, don't blame yourself. No one knew this was going to happen."

"We were nearly killed, John."

"Yeah, what's the big deal? Do you know how many times I've nearly been killed, Zemo? More than I could count. And trust me, this does not even come close." John laughs brightly. "We got outta there fine, yeah? Trust me. Not even close. It was a team effort."

Zemo looked down, and saw the slight quivering of his leg that John tried to hide. He dragged his eyes up to John's face, and recognised the tiny, near-imperceptible strain in his eyes... something you would not catch unless you were specifically looking for it.

You can be a really good liar if you tried, John.

"You're special to me, you know." the words came out in a rush, stumbling over one another. It sounded like a confession, and Zemo hated how it made his heart stutter, how his hands tingled, how the pain and the anger faded away into a schoolboy-nervousness.

The entire world, bottled down to a single response.

And he waited for an answer with bated breath, though he was uncertain of the question he had asked, if any at all.

My ending thoughts:

John Walker tells Zemo about love, like how a parent tells their child about the unobservable universe, about the untouched depths of the ocean, as if whispering: don't fear the unknown, for we'll explore it together.

Inspiration and images were taken from:

Zion National Park, United States (Utah)

Black Canyon of the Gunnison, United States (Colorado)

Trollstigen, Norway

Transfăgărășan road, Romania

Karakoram Highway, China-Pakistan

Images were taken from Google, not owned by me.

#walkerbaron #zemo #john walker #fatws #Spotify

[a-whole-lot]

In the Tashkurgan bazaar (today Kholm) north of Afghanistan: Mahmad Niyaz sniffs a rose outside his door by Roland and Sabrina Michaud, 1967