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girlactionfigure · 2 months

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Why are there Palestinian refugees?

In the months before the British abandoned its mandate & Israel declared independence, civil war raged as Arab factions tried to prevent the Jewish state from being born.

Of course, had the Arabs agreed to the UN's partition plan, they would have had yet another state & there would have been no war in 1948.

But their goal was not another Arab state; it was to ensure there would be no Jewish state.

Meanwhile, 5 #Arab armies amassed on the borders & waited for the British to leave so they could push the Jews into the #Mediterranean Sea.

As Secretary-General of the Arab League Azzam Pasha put it on the day of the Arab #invasion:

"This will be a war of extermination & momentous massacre, which will be spoken of like the Mongolian massacres and the Crusades."

Or as the then war #criminal & fugitive #Nazi Grand Mufti Amin al-Husseini put it during the invasion:

"Murder the #Jews. Murder them all!"

But before the invasion began, & starting as early as Dec 1947, Arab officers began ordering Arab residents of specific villages to flee.

Their reasoning? Arab citizens not involved in active fighting could only: (1) "treacherously" abide the creation of a the Jewish state &/or even become citizens of same; or (2) be in the way of Arab #military deployments & potentially get caught in the crossfire.

And so, for example, on this day (March 8) in 1948, the Arab Higher Committee ordered all Arab women, children & elderly to leave Jerusalem. The order continued, "Any opposition to this order ... is an obstacle to the holy war ... & will hamper the operations of the fighters in these districts.”

In fact, the Arab Higher Committee ordered the evacuation of dozens of Arab villages between April & July of 1948 (see photo of Arab citizens fleeing below).

Meanwhile, on April 19, 1948, Jewish forces secured Tiberias, which had a population of ~6,000 #Arabs - all of whom chose to leave. In fact, they left under British military supervision.

The Jewish Community Council immediately issued a statement regarding Tiberias' Arabs:

"We did not dispossess them; they themselves chose this course ... Let no citizen touch their property."

At around this same time, in early & mid-April of 1948, an Arab faction led by Fawzi al-Qawukji was attacking Haifa & attempting to take the city. Then, rumors spread among Haifa's Arab community that Arab air forces were about to bomb the city & ~25,000 of Haifa's Arabs fled.

As U.S. Consul-General in Haifa Aubrey Lippincott noted on April 22, 1948: "local mufti-dominated Arab leaders ... [urged] all Arabs to leave the city, & large numbers did so."

On April 23, 1948, however, #Jewish forces fought back the Arab attack & retook Haifa.

Three days later, on April 26, 1948, a British police report from Haifa noted:

"[E]very effort is being made by the Jews to persuade the Arab populace to stay and carry on with their normal lives, to get their shops and businesses open and to be assured that their lives and interests will be safe."

What were some of those "efforts?"

Israel's first Prime Minister, David Ben-Gurion, sent future Prime Minister Golda Meir to Haifa with the direct instructions to "persuade the Arabs to stay."

Ms. Meir was unsuccessful, however, as Haifa's Arabs told her they feared that if they stayed, they would be branded "#traitors."

And so, another ~25,000 of Haifa's Arabs fled.

Stop me if you've heard this one before, but despite facts on the ground, Arab leaders at the #UN began demanding the end to a fake "#massacre."

Specifically, #Syria's UN Ambassador Faris al-Kouri, said the Jewish victory at Haifa was a "massacre" that provided "evidence that the '#Zionist program' is to annihilate Arabs within the Jewish state if partition is effected."

The #British were still on the ground, however, & the British Ambassador to the UN, Sir Alexander Cadogan, told the UN the very next day both that the fighting in Haifa had only begun as a result of "continuous attacks by Arabs against Jews" & that the "reports of massacres & deportations [were] erroneous."

Meanwhile, after Israel declared its independence & was invaded by five Arab armies, the newly established #IDF issued an Order on July 6, 1948, making it clear that non-combatant Arab civilians were not to be harassed or expelled, nor their villages touched.

But the Arabs were being given a very different message.

#Iraqi #PrimeMinister Nuri Said announced:

"We will smash the country with our guns & obliterate every place the Jews seek shelter in. The Arabs should conduct their wives & children to safe areas until the fighting has died down."

This used to be known. In fact, Arab leaders for years after the war had no qualms about repeating it.

For example, Syrian Prime Minister Haled al Azm later wrote:

"Since 1948, we have been demanding the return of the #refugees to their homes. But we ourselves are the ones who encouraged them to leave. Only a few months separated our call to them to leave & our appeal to the UN to resolve on their return."

Similarly, #Jordan's King Abdullah wrote:

"The tragedy of the #Palestinians was that most of their leaders had paralyzed them with false & unsubstantiated promises that they were not alone; that 80 million Arabs & 400 million #Muslims would instantly & miraculously come to their rescue."

Similarly, Edward Atiyah, Secretary of the Arab League Office in #London wrote:

"This wholesale #exodus was due partly to the belief of the Arabs, encouraged by the boastings of an unrealistic #Arabic press & the irresponsible utterances of some of the Arab leaders that it could be only a matter of weeks before the Jews were defeated by the armies of the Arab States & the #Palestinian Arabs enabled to reenter & retake possession of their country.”

Even as the war still raged on Aug 16, 1948, the Arab #Greek Orthodox Catholic Bishop of the Galilee told #Beirut newspaper Sada al-Janub:

“The refugees were confident their absence would not last long, & that they would return within a week or two ... Their leaders had promised them that the Arab Armies would crush the ’Zionist gangs’ very quickly & that there was no need for panic or fear of a long exile.”

A few months later, on Feb 19, 1949, the Jordanian newspaper Filastin confirmed:

"The Arab States encouraged the Palestine Arabs to leave their homes temporarily in order to be out of the way of the Arab invasion armies."

Even many of the Palestinian Arab refugees themselves admitted their reasons for leaving.

For example, on June 8, 1951, Habib Issa admitted to #NewYork Lebanese newspaper Al Hoda:

"Azzam Pasha assured the Arab peoples that the #occupation of Palestine & #TelAviv would be ... simple ... He pointed out that they were already on the frontiers & that all the millions the Jews had spent on land & economic development would be easy booty, for it would be a simple matter to throw Jews into the Mediterranean ... Arabs of Palestine [were told] to leave their land, homes & property & to stay temporarily in neighboring fraternal states, lest the guns of the invading Arab armies mow them down.”

Similarly, Asmaa Jabir Balasimah recalled being told by Arab leaders to "evacuate the village & return after the battle is over," & that she & others in her village left all their possessions behind "based on the assumption that we would return after a few hours."

Again, however (& most importantly), had the Arabs agreed to Partition or even agreed to negotiate different borders with Zionist leaders who begged Azzam Pasha to make any counteroffer instead of invading with #genocidal intent, there would never have been a single Palestinian #refugee.

#Education #Israel #Palestine

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codingquill · 7 months

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What happens when you start your computer ? ( Booting a computer )

We studied this in the lecture today, and it was quite interesting. What makes something a hundred times simpler than it is? Creating a story about it. That's why I made this super fun dialog that will help you understand it all.

I've set up a drive to compile everything I create related to the Linux operating system. Feel free to explore it for more details on the topics discussed in the conversation below. Check it out here.

Have a fun read, my dear coders!

In the digital expanse of the computer, Pixel, the inquisitive parasite, is on a microventure with Binary, a wise digital guide. Together, they delve into the electronic wonders, uncovering the secrets hidden in the machine's core.

Pixel: (zooming around) Hey there! Pixel here, on a mission to demystify the tech wonders . There's a creature named Binary who knows all the ins and outs. Let's find them!

Binary: (appearing with a flicker of pixels) Pixel, greetings! Ready to explore what happens inside here?

Pixel: Absolutely! I want the full scoop. How does this thing come alive when the human outside clicks on "start"?

Binary: (with a digital chuckle) Ah, the magic of user interaction. Follow me, and I'll reveal the secrets.

(They traverse through the circuits, arriving at a glowing portal.)

Pixel: (inquiring) What's the deal with this glowing door?

Binary: (hovering) Pixel, behold the BIOS - our machine's awakening. When the human clicks "start," the BIOS kicks in, checking if our components are ready for action.

(They proceed to observe a tiny program in action.)

Pixel: (curious) Look at that little messenger running around. What's it up to?

Binary: (explaining) That, Pixel, is the bootloader. It plays courier between the BIOS and the operating system, bringing it to life.

Pixel: (excitedly buzzing) Okay! How does the computer know where to find the operating system?

Binary: Ah, Pixel, that's a tale that takes us deep into the heart of the hard disk. Follow me.

(They weave through the digital pathways, arriving at the hard disk.)

Pixel: (curious) Huh? Tell me everything!

Binary: Within this hard disk lies the treasure chest of the operating system. Let's start with the Master Boot Record (MBR).

(They approach the MBR, Binary pointing to its intricate code.)

Binary: The MBR is like the keeper of the keys. It holds crucial information about our partitions and how to find the operating system.

Pixel: (wide-eyed) What's inside?

Binary: (pointing) Take a look. This is the primary boot loader, the first spark that ignites the OS journey.

(They travel into the MBR, where lines of code reveal the primary boot loader.)

Pixel: (in awe) This tiny thing sets the whole show in motion?

Binary: (explaining) Indeed. It knows how to find the kernel of the operating system, which is the core of its existence.

(They proceed to the first partition, where the Linux kernel resides.)

Pixel: (peering into the files) This is where the OS lives, right?

Binary: (nodding) Correct, Pixel. Here lies the Linux kernel. Notice those configuration files? They're like the OS's guidebook, all written in text.

(They venture to another partition, finding it empty.)

Pixel: (confused) What's the story with this empty space?

Binary: (smirking) Sometimes, Pixel, there are barren lands on the hard disk, waiting for a purpose. It's a canvas yet to be painted.

Pixel: (reflecting) Wow! It's like a whole universe in here. I had no idea the operating system had its roots in the hard disk.

(They continue their microventure, navigating the binary landscapes of the computer's inner world.Pixel gazes at the screen where choices appear.)

Pixel: What's happening here?

Binary: (revealing) This is where the user picks the operating system. The computer patiently waits for a decision. If none comes, it follows the default path.

(They delve deeper into the digital code, where applications start blooming.)

Pixel: (amazed) It's like a digital garden of applications! What's the enchantment behind this?

Binary: (sharing) Here, Pixel, is where the applications sprout to life. The operating system nurtures them, and they blossom into the programs you see on the screen.

Pixel: (excited) But how does the machine know when the human clicks "start"?

Binary: It's the BIOS that senses this initiation. When the human triggers "start," the BIOS awakens, and we embark on this mesmerizing journey.

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roadworxx · 10 months

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i've been meaning to post this for a while now, so here it is

The Gateway GP6-400

this is my retro pc setup - a modified gateway gp6-400 from 1999. this model in particular really appealed to me; it's powerful enough to run most games up to around 1998 or so, but it still has fairly realistic performance for a typical gaming pc of that era. i still went ahead and swapped out some parts as well as added some new ones in order to get exactly what i want out of it, however.

here's the specs:

- Pentium II 400mhz

- 128mb RAM

- 250gb HDD (win98 partition only uses 6.4gb for accuracy

- Voodoo3 AGP graphics card

- Integrated Ensoniq AudioPCI audio

- ES1868F ISA audio card for DOS gaming

- DVD-RW drive

- 3.5" floppy drive

- 250mb ZIP drive

on the pc there exist two operating systems: windows 98 second edition and ms-dos 6.2 with windows 3.1. now, you likely find this odd considering that ms-dos 7.1 is already accessible from windows 98, but i reeeally wanted a true early 90s dos experience. so, i have a full installation of dos 6.2 on a separate 425mb partition (the size of a decent hdd from 1994 or so) that i access via boot disk.

as you can also see from the pictures, there's a crt monitor as well: the 17" princeton eo710. it was expensive - well-kept crt monitors tend to be that way unfortunately - but it works wonderfully and the display is gorgeous. i try to keep it at around half brightness and contrast, which can make seeing things in games hard at times, but i really would rather not risk wearing it down lol.

overall, it works splendidly. i'm able to run any games made up to around 2001 or so fairly well, and while there's been issues dealing with stupid win98 bullshit, it hasn't been too bad to work on. it's been a dream of mine to own a computer like this for ages, and now that i finally have one...i'm really happy :)

here's some more pics

the windows 98 desktop:

running dos:

@esselfortium 's KDIKDIZD looking amazing on the crt (it looks so much better in person):

and finally, some half-life along with a better view of the front of the pc:

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bigtreefest · 3 months

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Chapter 2: Ouch, That Stings

From: You Catch More Bees With Honey Series

Pairing: Mob! Bucky x Farmer! Reader

Summary: Bucky’s first day on the farm is long. Very long.

Word Count: 3,680

Content/Warnings: light mob themes, alcohol consumption, mention of brass knuckles/ bruising, bee sting, Bucky being an absolute oaf, secondhand embarrassment, minor injuries, light mutual pining?, Y/N is used once, minimal afab reader descriptions

A/N: I just finished an exam, so obviously when I should’ve been studying, I had so much motivation that went straight into this chapter. Sorry if there’s minimal dialogue, I think the next will be mostly conversational interaction. And thank you guys so much for all the support already on ch. 1. You have no idea how much it means to me. Likes, comments, reblogs, and asks are sooooo appreciated. Literally, ask me anything. Even if it’s what I ate for dinner. Anyway, thank you for reading

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

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Bucky returned to the car with his head held high. If he had to agree to this term of yours, he was going to do it with as much defiance as he could. He opened the door to the car, just to be greeted by Steve and Sam’s knowing smiles.

“I take it that went well,” Sam said to Bucky through the rear view mirror as he put the car in drive.

“I don’t wanna talk about it” Bucky grumbled as he hit the button to raise the partition.

Steve quickly shifted upwards in his seat to give the last word before the screen closed “We knew it was gonna come to this, boss!”

Throughout the hours-long drive back to the city, Bucky got lost in his thoughts. How could he fold to you so quickly? If he had to personally work on this farm, he was going to do his worst. He wasn’t going to give into the pull he could already feel in his heart by just talking with you once. He’d keep his head down and do the work, he wouldn’t show his interest, if anything, he’d act distinterested, grasping for the ability to appear as though he had the power in this deal.

Sam pulled into the parking garage of Bucky’s penthouse apartment and the three of them took the elevator all the way up. When they arrived, Sam and Steve plopped themselves down on the couch while Bucky poured himself a tall glass of whiskey.

“So do we get some, or??” Sam asked as he leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees.

Bucky tossed him back a glare that most definitely said no while Steve laughed, putting his arms behind his head and kicking his feet up to rest on the ornate glass coffee table.

Bucky walked over to one of the luxury chairs that sat across from the pair and set his glass on a coaster on the table.

“Steven. Feet. Down.” If Bucky was still in this mood after having hours to calm down, no one was going to be having a good time.

“Sorry, Buck. You know you didn’t have to get this fancy furniture. You could’ve gotten a wooden table like mine, and a couch that’s actually comfortable.” Steve lowered his feet and got up to pour a small glass of whiskey for Sam and himself.

Bucky rolled his eyes “I like the finer things, and I think all of this works just fine. It’s not like we’re in here much anyway. We’re always in the office or the mansion for meetings. I just wanted to see this place one more time before I abandon it for a month. And if this is any indication on how you’re going to treat my things and my operation, I’m concerned”

“So does that mean we’re really in charge?” Sam nodded to Steve as he grabbed the glass out of his hands.

“Well, technically, Steve’s in charge. He’s the new me. And you’re the new Steve”

Steve chuckled at this and looked over at Sam. “Well, Stevie, we better help Y/N’s new errand boy get packed then.”

Bucky had wanted to make the drive back out to your farm on his own, but you had insisted you’d pick him up. It’s not like one of his luxury cars had a place on dirt roads. And where was he going to go, anyway? This had to be an uninterrupted month. So he conceded.

That’s how he found himself in this situation, looking out at the land as you grabbed one of his bags out of your truck bed and tossed it at him while you grabbed the other two.

The sun was setting over the rolling hills and his distracted glance caused him to stumble backwards as his duffel hit his arms. Man, you were strong. “Keep up, James, time for a house tour.”

Bucky scrambled to the steps and followed you inside. You went straight up the stairs with his bags and he followed as you turned at the top and went to the end of the hall.

“Here’s your room for the month, bathroom is just next door and I’m across the hall if you need anything. There’s plenty of dresser and closet space for your clothes. Let’s get you unpacked, I wanna see if you’ve got proper farm attire, otherwise you’re gonna have to borrow some.”

Bucky hadn’t even realized he hadn’t spoken since the small talk the two of you had made on the drive here. He just nodded and put his bags on the bed to open them up. Suddenly, he snapped out of his trance and threw them open, proudly showing clothes that were very much not for working. You walked towards the bed and looked through the pairs of dress pants and button-up shirts that filled two of the three bags, with only a couple Henleys and one pair of jeans in the duffel.

“Is this seriously what you brought? This is a farm, not a yacht club.”

Bucky let out a small chuckle at that one. She’s fiery and funny. “In my defense, these pieces of clothing are dressed down for me. I don’t really own anything not nice. Work attire for me is strictly suits. You’re lucky I own a pair of jeans.”

You had a playful smirk on your face. What did you really expect? You were prepared for this anyway, but it didn’t mean you’d let him off easily. “What, you saying my overalls aren’t nice? Wow James, that’s low. You just earned yourself dinner duty. I’ll grab you some actual work clothes while you familiarize yourself with the kitchen. Hope my apron down there is good enough to keep your designer clothes clean.”

Bucky smiled as you turned on your heel and left the room. An actual, genuine smile. You weren’t even being sweet to him, you were being challenging and strong-headed and he loved it. He reflected on the past few years of business. Everything had come more easily once he had built his reputation in the city. People feared the name Barnes, making business effortless. Bucky hadn’t been challenged like this in years. He missed it, which made him think he made the right decision, but thinking about being challenged and actually having to do the work were two very different things. The smile was just starting to naturally slide off Bucky’s face as you called from the hallway “You’ve already seen pretty much all there is to the first floor. Meet you down there” as you disappeared into the other guest bedroom.

Although Bucky had walked through the first story of your home, it had only been in passing before. Now that he got to look closer, he saw the way you decorated your house. Your couch and chairs in the living room were worn and showed some we, but they were definitely taken care of, just like the kitchen appliances. Photos of friends and family and souvenirs from travels that he couldn’t decipher were your own or not lined the walls and shelves next to a small book collection.

He made his was to the pantry on the edge of your kitchen and looked through the ingredients. He wanted to keep it simple, but impressive, but also, not something too close to his heart. He liked you as a person, but he didn’t know you like that. Whatever he made, you were going to ask questions. You were so perceptive, and he couldn’t let himself be that vulnerable. Not yet. After grabbing some pasta, he went and looked through the fridge and found the ingredients for chicken parm. Perfect, who doesn’t love that?

Once you made your way downstairs from putting the folded clothes on Bucky’s bed, you started to smell basil wafting through the house. You made your way down to see Bucky in your apron. “Wheres a scotch or a good wine to pair with this amazing meal I’m making for you. Man, this is shaping up to be real easy”

You laughed, a deep, shoulder bouncing laugh and Bucky looked at you with furrowed brown and confusion in his eyes. Oh, he has no idea what he’s in for. “Good one, Barnes. I forgot to tell you a few rules we’ve got around here. First off, no alcohol until the weekends. We’ve got some early mornings ahead, plus you gotta earn it. Second, when we do drink, it’s almost strictly bourbon and beer. Good luck finding your high-end liquor out here without getting funny looks.”

Bucky’s shoulders fell some, but you could tell he was trying not to show a reaction. His cocky smirk was fading slowly. You knew how different your lives were, but only time and work would tell how steep this learning curve would be for him. That’s why you wanted him out here in the first place, to see the vast differences between your worlds and the effects that would come from his attempt to shove his into your space. Or more realistically, for him to attempt to hijack your land and mine tunnels with his heavy operations.

He turned away from you to finish cooking while you set the table for him, putting out tall glasses of water. “Thank you for making this, James. It’ll be good to be hydrated and carb-loaded for tomorrow. I swear you’ve never seen work like this in your life.”

Bucky woke up with a jolt to screeching outside his window. What on Earth? The sound came again and he could tell it was a rooster crowing. He thought that sound was just a cliché, and even if it did happen, it would’ve been with the sunrise. But the rooster was up, and so were you, based on the smell of eggs cooking that wafted under Bucky’s door. And now, begrudgingly, Bucky was awake, too. He tried to pull the covers back over his head. Bucky was used to not getting much sleep, with the late nights and early mornings his job demanded, but for some reason the warm bed was sucking him back in, in juxtaposition to the cool early morning air. Just as he began to feel the pull of sleep again, that rooster cawed and he tossed the covers off in frustration, just as you knocked on his door.

“James? Time for breakfast. How do you want your eggs? You’ve got until I make them to be dressed and have your heinie downstairs.” You opened the door, letting in a stream of light that blinded Bucky, causing him to groan throw and arm over his eyes. How did he like his eggs? Served hours later to him in bed, where he wished he could stay right now.

“Over easy” he mumbled

“Oh good, you’re up.” You left the door open while you walked back downstairs. Of course you were already dressed. Bucky didn’t want to know what the implied ‘or else’ of your previous statement was. He hoped it didn’t have to do with scooping poop for your many animals, and he didn’t want to risk it, so he pulled on his clothes and made his way to the bathroom to finish getting ready. Little did he know, poop scooping was already in your plans for him, punishment or not.

During breakfast, you walked Bucky through the agenda for the day. He was only half-listening, still dazed by the way he was ripped out of his slumber by your darn rooster. He had picked up bits and pieces, though. Blah, blah, blah, ‘cows,’ blah, blah, blah ‘tractor,’ blah, blah, blah, ‘farmer’s market.’ It had to be easy enough, essentially he was following you all day.

By the time you two had finished breakfast and went outside, it was first light. Bucky checked the old, leather-banded watch you had given him on top of his pile last night to see the time. 5:14 am. Ugh, he’d been up for at least 20 minutes by now. How long had you been up?

“Ok, we’re already running a little bit behind schedule and that’s only gonna happen more since I’ve got to show you around and teach everything from the beginning. No worries, though. Today’s gonna be an easy day.”

A dozen heavy wheel barrow trips to feed the pigs, chickens, two kinds of cows, horses, goats, and sheep, four dozen dairy cow milkings, and three failed attempts at riding a horse later, Bucky looked up at you from his place sprawled on the ground. This was an easy day? Absolutely not. Despite the fact that he had to fall off the horse to end up in the middle of your field, laying like this was the best part of his day so far.

Who knew there were so many kinds of animal feed? Why were they all different? And why were they so heavy? Why did your one goat love head butting him so much? Bucky swore he was going to have permanent horn marks in his stomach, not unlike the ones left in his enemies from brass knuckles. And why were his clothes now covered in unpasteurized milk? Well, he knew why on that one, but it was still crusty. What had he signed up for? His body was so sore and he hadn’t sat down in six hours, so yeah, he was going to lay here on the ground. Maybe he could pretend to be dead. Maybe then this misery would end and you’d let him out of this deal. But that was wishful thinking as he cracked an eye open to see if he’d convinced you yet. Bad timing. Bucky was greeted with the sight of you leaning over him, hand reached out in an offer to get him up. Dang, every angle was your good angle.

“Alright, cowboy, one more thing, and then lunch.”

Bucky reached for your hand as you effortlessly lifted him up. You grabbed the reins of the horses, guiding them back to the barn. “I think that’s enough of that for you right now. I’ve honestly never seen anyone have that much trouble riding Ace before.”

At that, Bucky looked down, hiding his eyes from you and felt his face get hot as he rubbed his neck in embarrassment. Bucky hadn’t been embarrassed in years. He was good at his job, it came as second nature, so doing something new and failing at it was a foreign concept he didn’t love. You were being so kind with him learning, but he could tell you were just as exasperated as him. Although, you were hiding it better. If you had tried to make Bucky ride that horse one more time, he probably would’ve told you off and lost his precious deal. He couldn’t afford that.

You were trying so hard to be patient with Bucky, but was hard when you watched him do everything wrong. He very evidently had not listened to you at breakfast this morning. He had a long way to go, but luckily he had a month to figure it out. And you guys were heading to your favorite task, you couldn’t even call it a chore. Surely, this would be an easy one for Bucky.

After dropping off the horses, the two of you started walking through your native wildflower prairies towards the beehives. Every time you went through it, you were taken back by the beauty, and by the look on Bucky’s face, he was, too. Had you been looking at him this whole time? You had to admit he looked good in the old farm clothes you lent him, left behind by your old farmhand. It was all about half a size too small, though, but you’d never complain about seeing his bulging muscles stretch the fabric. Thank goodness for muscle memory as your legs carried you in the right direction, because you realized your mind had been solely occupied by Bucky as you made your way South within the property to reach the beehives.

You walked right up to the shed as you walked Bucky through all of the safety precautions of what you were doing and how exactly the honey was harvested. You explained the history of your family’s beekeeping and how the town went crazy for them at the farmer’s market you two were hosting at the end of the week. You went into the shed to get Bucky and yourself the proper protective gear.

“Now it may be a little difficult to see through the veil at first, but that’s ok. We’re not in a rush, so take your time. Plus, the bees will be calm as long as we keep pumping smoke into the hive.”

With this final warning, you and Bucky each started tending your own beehives, identifying which sections contained honey or not and setting them aside. This took a lot of multitasking and patience, which Bucky hadn’t seemed to have mastered yet, but you hoped he’d be ok. After all, this was something you’d done since you could drive a tractor, which was a young age around here. Rookie mistake on making that assumption.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a quick flash of movement. You turned your head to see Bucky swat the air. Followed by another one sooner, and then once again, until his arms were turning into a flailing mess. He’d forgotten to blow smoke and calm the bees down.

You were glad you’d sprung and made him put on the suit, despite his claims that ‘people on the internet do this without all this bulky equipment all the time. Bet it’s easy.’ Just as you thought back to that, though, in his frantic retreat from the hive, Bucky tripped over his own foot and fell flat on his face, veil flying forward off his head and several feet from the momentum he’d picked up. You both watched as a single bee fluttered down to his hairline.

“James, Bucky, I’m serious right now. Don’t move. You’re not allergic to bees, are you?”

This made Bucky stop and think for a little. Wait a minute, you didn’t know he wasn’t allergic to bees? And you let him do this task when it could’ve been fatal? He whipped his head around to tell you he wasn’t, completely forgetting that you’d told him not to move. The sudden jerk startled the bee, triggering it to sting Bucky in the temple.

“OW. Ouch, ouch, ouch, that stings!!”

You rushed over to Bucky and crouched beside him, putting the veil back on his head. You helped him up for what seemed like the thousandth time today and brushed off his shoulder.

“So you’re not allergic, right?” Your eyes were urgently looking him over for more stings and symptoms, as well as other injuries.

Bucky was fired up in his hangry and fed-up state, shooting back, “NO. But I can’t believe you let me do this without that knowledge.”

He stomped back to the shed while you cleaned up both of your stations. There wasn’t a response you could give him that would really make it better. You understood he was trying and this was all a lot. Your stomach grumbled, and rather than start a fight in your own hangry state, you decided to not respond. Plus, yeah, maybe you should’ve asked about allergies sooner. You made a mental note to do that tonight. You both just needed to eat. You could come back to this later, plus, you’d already grabbed most of the honey comb from yours. That should be enough for the market.

Just as you had prepared the honey comb to take back towards the house, you heard movement in the shed. It was the small thunks made by Bucky ripping off his gloves, veil, and the rest of the suit and throwing it back on the shelves. That was followed by a loud crash and metal clang. You could tell things had tumbled down off the wall. Bucky must’ve thrown one of the pieces a little too hard in a fit of rage.

You peeked through the door of the shed, not wanting to crowd Bucky too much, checking if he was okay. The doorway, though, was filled with a pair of old boots, attached to long legs, attached to a broad body propped up against a wall opposite the shelves. You began to snicker, unable to hold in your obvious amusement. Bucky moved his head a little to figure out where the sound was coming from, but you weren’t greeted by his eyes. No, a metal bucket had landed on Bucky’s head, entirely engulfing it. And in his fit of frustration and how done he was with the day, he just left it. Your snicker morphed into a giggle, then grew into full, guttural, hysterical laughter. You couldn’t stop. This was such a perfect moment that you had to capture it.

“Bucky Barnes? …. More like…. BUCKET BARNES!” you wheezed out in between gasps for air. Bucky sat there, bucket still on his head, but shoulders bouncing with his own laughter now. How could he not, yours was contagious, plus, that was a really clever one.

Once you caught your breath again. Bucky finally took the bucket off his head and looked up at you with a meek glance and red cheeks. “Ha ha ha, very funny. I think you’ve had your fill now in indulging in my bee-related misfortunes. But speaking about fill, is it time for lunch yet?”

The two of you headed back to the house and ate in a comfortable, exhausted silence, you writing out a simple to-do list that was more Bucky’s speed for after lunch, while he ate, using a fork in one hand, his other pressing an ice pack to his temple as his elbow rested on the table.

He sat there thinking about the fact that it hadn’t even been a day yet, let alone a month. Really, Buck, what have you gotten yourself into?

Next >

Series Taglist:

@scuzmunkie

@openup-yourmind

#bucky barnes #mob! bucky x farmer! reader #mob bucky x reader #mob bucky barnes #mafia! bucky x farmer! reader #mafia bucky x farmer reader #mob bucky x farmer reader #bucket Barnes #you catch more bees with honey #ouch that stings #sebastian stan #steve rogers #sam wilson

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dwobbitfromtheshire · 10 months

Text

Sunmary: In which Eddie has all sorts of crises because he witnessed that dorky handshake between Dustin and Steve. Warning, It's kind of long.

Eddie definitely conformed to the idea that all jocks are the same, and when he looked at Steve Harrington, he wanted to believe that it's true. He wants to believe so badly that he doesn't have a heart underneath all that hair because otherwise, it meant that Eddie has been treating them the same way they've been treating him and his friends. . .like they're something to be looked down upon just because their interests don't align. He also wanted so badly to believe that with that big house and all that money that people like Steve had it easy. . .that life wasn't all just one giant middle finger for everyone.

He was wandering around the mall to get away from the heat when he spotted Steve Harrington and a kid with curly hair in a hat. The uniform for Scoops Ahoy was completely ridiculous, but somehow, Steve Harrington made it work. He watched as he did this completely ridiculous handshake with the kid. It was also ridiculously adorable, especially with the way that Steve did this open-mouthed grin. Huh, there was more to Steve Harrington than meets the eyes. Eddie quickly shook his head. Nope, nope! He definitely liked girls. Definitely.

When he came back later, they were definitely doing something fishy. This time, they were with the other girl that worked there, and they were. . .plying an even younger girl with ice cream. Okay. That was fucking weird. He couldn't help but watch them for a while, and eventually, when the parlor was empty, they went into the back. It wouldn't hurt to take a peak at what they were doing, right? He went into the parlor and headed towards the back.

"Great, now I'm stalking him. What the fuck am I doing?" Eddie muttered.

He slid open the partition, and his eyes widened when he saw her going through a vent. Okay, what the fuck? Should he call the police? No, because then he would get arrested for stalking. Eddie heard her mention something about "operation child endangerment" and he cursed under his breath. Yeah, he should definitely do something, right? Somehow, he ended up following them all out back to a door that apparently the younger girl had opened for them. Eddie learned the other one in the sailor uniform was named Robin, the boy in the hat was named Dustin, and the younger girl was named Erica. Eddie wasn't sure how he managed to do it, but he slipped into the room without them noticing and hid in the corner behind the boxes. How he didn't make a sound, he wasn't sure. All of a sudden, the room plummeted. It wasn't a storage closet. It was a fucking elevator.

"We're going down! We're going down!" Steve screamed.

"Yeah, no shit, Harrington!" Robin screamed.

Steve got to the panel on the wall and started pressing buttons.

"Why don't these buttons work?!" Steve exclaimed.

"Press the button!" Erica exclaimed.

"What do you think I'm doing?!" Steve screamed at her.

Eddie drowned out the screaming as he tried to focus on not throwing up and giving away his position. When it came to a stop, the boxes fell over and covered him. At least they hadn't fallen onto his groin. Poor Steve. Eddie winced and tried not to make a sound. Why not make a sound? Why not tell them he was here? He still wasn't sure why he was here or why in the fuck he had to follow them? He cursed his curious nature and his stupid thirst for adventure. It was his mom's fault, really, for reading him the Hobbit as a bedtime story. He remembered after he first came to live with Wayne, how he wanted to explore the neighborhood. It was like a whole new world to him, and it had been full of cats. He remembered the brown one with the prettiest green eyes, practically pleading with him to follow, and Eddie did. The next thing Eddie knew he had been lost. Wayne had been pissed, worried as hell that something had happened to him. It had been the first time in a long time that someone had cared about him like that, not since his mama died. Eddie cursed silently at himself for following yet another pretty cat. Steve Harrington? Pretty? Yeah, like in the way he found guys pretty, not like the way he found girls pretty. Particularly cheerleaders. Hmm, Steve Harrington, in a cheerleader uniform. Nope, nope! Focus, Munson! What the fuck was that anyway?

"Just so you nerds are aware," Erica said once they established that they needed a key card to work the elevator. "I'm supposed to be spending the night at Tina's, and Tina always covers for me, but if I'm not home for Uncle Jack's party tomorrow and my mom finds out you three are responsible, she's gonna hunt you down, one by one, and slit your throats."

"I don't care about Tina!" Steve shrieked. "Or Uncle's Jack party! Your mom's not going to be able to find us if we're dead in a Russian elevator!"

Eddie couldn't help himself. He started laughing, and everyone got quiet.

"What the shit?!" Dustin exclaimed.

Suddenly, the boxes were being pulled off of him, and Steve's face appeared.

"Munson?"

"Harrington."

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Steve asked.

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" Eddie asked. "I mean, what the fuck was your plan when you guys met the Russsians who have apparently invaded Hawkins?! Jesus H Christ!"

Eddie jumped up and began pacing as much as he could in this enclosed space.

"Who is this, Steve?" Dustin asked.

"How did you even get in here?" Steve asked.

"I tuck and rolled inside like a ninja," Eddie said, grinning proudly, and Steve giggled, covering it up as a cough. "After I followed you here when I saw you acting squirrelly, more specifically when I saw you guys pushing a little girl into a vent. I would have called the cops but I'm alas, I am a drug dealer. . .so I doubt they would believe me. I thought I would do a little investigating of my own, Eddie the Banished venturing into the unknown."

"You sound like you play D&D," Dustin said, narrowing his eyes at him. "Steve, again, who is this guy?"

"Dustin Henderson meet Eddie Munson," Steve said with a sigh. "He created a D&D club at the high school."

"There's a D&D club at the high school?! Steve, why am I just hearing about this?" Dustin asked.

"I wasn't sure if it would still be there once he, you know, graduated," Steve said.

"Well, I would have passed it onto Gareth or Jeff, but I guess that doesn't really matter since I'm back for another year," Eddie said.

"Wait. So that means that I'll be joining next year!" Dustin exclaimed. "That is if you'll let me!"

"That is if we live," Erica scoffed. "Nerds."

"Can we do this later?" Robin asked. "When we're not, you know, trapped in a Russsian elevator!"

"Yeah, yeah," Steve said, rolling eyes.

They ended up spending the night in the elevator. The kids fell asleep, but Robin, Eddie, and Steve stayed up, talking about what they were going to do. At one point, Robin nodded off, leaving Eddie and Steve alone. Eddie talked about his uncle, how he had come in here to look for a present for his birthday. Steve bitterly mentioned his parents and how they probably wouldn't notice that he was missing. Eddie realized then that money really can't buy everything.

"You know I would haven't followed you in here if I hadn't seen you do that dorky ass adorable handshake with Dustin," Eddie said.

"I'm adorable?" Steve asked with a smirk.

"No, no! I said the handshake was adorable," Eddie corrected. "You are a total dork, Steve Harrington."

"I am not!" Steve laughed.

"It's okay. I like dorks," Eddie said, and Steve smiled sweetly, ducking his head.

Once they got out of the elevator, thanks to Steve’s quick thinking, they began their journey down a long corridor. Steve and Dustin clearly knew something that they didn't. Honestly, it made Eddie feel a little left out.

"Hey, Robin, do you remember when we saw that super awesome thing that we can't talk about?" Eddie asked her.

"Oh, yeah, totally. Man, I wish we could talk about it," Robin said. "But alas, we cannot."

"Yeah, you guys are hilarious. You two should do stand-up!" Steve said sarcastically.

"How about it, Robin?" Eddie asked. "Wanna get out of here and get a jump start on our careers?"

"Oh, yeah, absolutely, Munson," Robin replied.

Steve flipped them off, and Eddie clutched his chest, feigning shock. They all laughed, except Erica.

"Don't you think that we should, I don't know, be quiet while we're sneaking through a secret Russian underground base?"

They continued to wonder down the hallway until they reached a communications room. Unfortunately, it was occupied. The Russian stood up, alarmed. Robin tried to confuse him with Russian, but it hadn't worked. Steve suddenly hollered and tackled him. Eddie clutched Dustin, holding him back as he could only watch. He suddenly realized that he should probably help when Steve picked up something and knocked out the Russian. Steve gasped, running his fingers through his hair and gazed at Eddie.

"I like girls, I like girls, I like girls," Eddie whispered.

"What was that?" Robin asked.

"I said I like pearls," Eddie said quickly.

"Right."

Of course, that's when things went to shit and shortly after, they got caught by the Russians. Eddie almost escaped with the kids through the ducts after Steve pleaded with him to look after the kids, but then someone grabbed him by the foot and pulled him out. He motioned for the kids to keep going, and then he was taken. Fuck. Goddamnit. Shit. Is this how he was going to die?

"Your curiosity is going to get you killed one day, boy," Wayne had told him after he found him in the woods.

Eddie cursed Wayne for being right and then cursed himself because he was probably never going to see him again. He was going to die down here, and Wayne will probably never know. Eddie started bucking and wiggling around in the soldier's grasp. He screamed. He didn't see where they had taken Robin and Steve. Where were they? What were they doing to them? The two soldiers dragged him into the room and threw him onto the floor. They stood over him talking to him in Russian, but he didn't understand. He kept shaking his head at them, screaming at them. Another soldier came in, muttered to one of the guards, and suddenly, he started speaking English to the other soldier.

"The boy in the sailor uniform, he was very loud, screamed at us. He clearly wanted to go first," the Russian said. "He is being beaten as we speak."

They wanted him to know. Fuckers. Steve. . .Steve was loud, and he made as much noise as possible. He did that so they wouldn't pay attention to Robin. Fuck. Eddie blinked back tears. He had to do something. He remembered when he did that play once for Drama and how he over did it with the dramatics when his character had died.

"You look like you're seizing, Munson," the teacher had told him with a sigh.

Eddie made sure to do it exactly what he did then, and soon, he was shaking his entire body, locking it up. He tried to bring up as much spit as possible, just to give it a little flare. The Russians started cursing, and they moved closer. He stilled his body and looked off into the distance, then held his breath. His mama always called him her little fish, the way he flopped around in the water and how he could hold his breath for a really long time. Her little guppy, her little fish, but most importantly, her sweet little boy. Would he see her again? Maybe it would all be worth it if he saw her again.

"He's dead!" One soldier claimed and began muttering in Russian.

"He will not be pleased," the other said. "Check the pulse!"

When they came closer to him, he grabbed their guns as he jumped up suddenly, and he wacked them upside the head with them. They collapsed at his feet. The soldier scrambled for his gun, but luck was on Eddie's side because the soldier's gun was stuck. Eddie hollered, rushed towards him, and knocked him out with the butt of the guns.

"That's how you're supposed to use them, right?" Eddie asked no one.

Eddie left the room to try to find Steve and Robin, only to find a better weapon than the guns he was carrying. Giant glowing sticks that could probably take down a dinosaur. God. He would love to have a dinosaur. Right, focus. He burst into a room, flickering the stick to life and jabbing a scientist looking dude in the chest. Robin and Steve were strapped to a couple of chairs, giggling. Steve looked all bloody and he winced.

"Eddie! Oh, man, I was wishing that you were here!" Steve exclaimed, grinning.

"Oh, damn, did they drug you?" Eddie asked.

Suddenly, Dustin came bursting in weilding the same weapon he had. He looked disappointed that he didn't get to use it.

"Oh, hey, you found them too," Dustin said. "We should duel with them later. Reenact a scene from Star Wars."

"Yes!"

"Something inside me tells me that I should probably say no," Steve said and then smiled at Eddie. "Eddie, what are you doing here?!"

"I'm here to rescue a damsel in distress!" Eddie said with a grin.

"I am no damsel, Munson, but I am in distress!" Robin said with a giggle.

"I was talking about Steve," Eddie laughed.

"You're the damsel, Munson. A very pretty damsel," Steve said.

"Let's go!" Erica snapped as she untied them.

They climbed into a weirdly built vehicle with a cage in the back. He was already in the cage when Eddie realized he was letting children drive, but it was too late to change anything now. Steve’s head fell into his lap.

"However, will I thank you for rescuing me, Munson?" Steve asked, fluttering his eyelashes at him.

"Uh, Steve! You realize that you're flirting with a guy, right?!" Dustin asked.

"God! I like both, okay? Jeeze, dad, stop trying to burn my magazines again. It's called being a bicycle!" Steve exclaimed.

"You mean bisexual?" Eddie said.

"That's what I said," Steve said, giving him a goofy smile.

A warm feeling filled his chest, and he suddenly wondered why he had never thought about it before. He knew about it. He knew Bowie was a bisexual but how come he never thought that he could be like that? How did Eddie not realize that all the times that he looked at a girl the way he did, he also looked at a guy like that. The denial had been stuck in him deep. Oh, fuck, this was the wrong time to realize that he wasn't straight. Oh, shit, he had a crush on Steve Harrington. Goddamnit. Steve reached up and booped him on the nose.

After they ran from the Russians, they hid in the theater. Eddie managed to pull Steve away from digging into the trash like a raccoon and pushed him into a seat. He collapsed into the seat next to Steve while Robin sat on his other side. Ugh, great, Back to the Future. Eddie just watched this with Wayne. Great film, but he just watched it. All of a sudden, Steve pressed his cheek into Eddie's shoulder, gazing at him with a goofy smile.

"Is this a date?" Steve whispered.

"No, I'd prefer my dates to be sober," Eddie said.

"Oh, so you don't wanna date me?" Steve pouted.

"I didn't say that," Eddie said quickly.

"You want to date me?"

"I want you to be sober when we have this conversation," Eddie replied.

Steve giggled, sliding his hand down Eddie's arm and into his hand. He laced their fingers together.

"They fit!"

It was after Dustin left that Robin and Steve decided to leave. Eddie cursed and followed after them. Once again, he had to stop Steve from eating popcorn out of the trashcan. He finally caught up with them, drinking out of the water fountain and debating on whether Michael J Fox was trying to bang his mom. This whole conversation made him laugh until the thought popped into his head that they had both been drugged against their will. The thought of selling drugs again after this made Eddie's stomach churn. Maybe he should get a real job. And just like that, Steve and Robin were gone again. Eddie cursed and chased after them. He turned every which way, trying to find them.

"Goddamnit!" Eddie exclaimed, running his fingers in his hair and gripping his tightly.

He let go of his hair, took deep breaths, and thought about where one might go if they were high. Bathroom, they would probably go to the bathroom if they needed to throw whatever they took up. Eddie rushed to the bathroom, opening the door when he heard Robin coming out to Steve, and he winced. He really had bad timing. He tried to back track slowly but paused when he heard his name.

"I definitely think that I have a crush on Eddie," Steve said.

"Yeah. No shit," Robin said.

"I don't know. I think he might like me back, but you know, I've been wrong about this kind of thing before," Steve said.

Eddie was leaning hopefully against the door when he lost his balance and fell into the bathroom. He cursed loudly, and suddenly, they were both standing over him.

"Hey," Eddie said casually as he continued laying on the floor. "How are you? I can see that you're sober now, so that's good. Good, good."

"How much of that did you hear?" Steve asked.

"Nothing. I heard nothing," Eddie said quickly.

"So, you heard everything?"

"Yeah. . .but I won't tell anyone, Robin, I swear, and I'm okay with it. I mean, you're definitely not wrong. Not wrong about me at all, but everything is happening so fast. One minute, I'm in complete denial and then BAM! I also like guys, and I knew about Bowie, so why didn't I think it also applied to me, you know?" Eddie rambled on as he stared at Steve's legs. "It's just so fast."

"You just realized you're bisexual?" Steve asked softly and Eddie nodded.

Steve pulled him into a hug. There were no expectations from that hug. . .just acceptance. Eddie realized he was crying when he felt Robin join in on the hug.

"I mean, on top of that, the Russians want to kill us!" Eddie sobbed. "What the fuck?"

The door burst open, and Eddie heard the sound of Dustin's voice.

"Uh, what's going on?" He asked.

"It's his first time dealing with all of this," Steve said, as he patted Eddie's back.

"You guys been through this before?!" Eddie asked.

"Uh, right. Oh, by the way, it's totally cool that you're bisexual Steve," Dustin said. "You're still my brother."

"Oh my God! He's such an awesome little dude," Eddie said, sniffling.

"Are we sure that he wasn't drugged too?" Dustin asked.

After they left the bathroom, they were once again chased by the Russians. They dove over the counter in the food court, Eddie practically collapsing against Steve. Eddie took his hand, gripping it tight. He couldn't help it. He had to peak. Eddie looked over and watched as a fucking car rolled over the Russians like they were bowling pins. It rolled over them like an invisible force had pushed it. Eddie looked up at the second floor. A group of kids, Nancy Wheeler and Jonathan Byers, stood there. A girl at the front stared down at them. Her nose was bleeding. Eddie's eyes widened. Holy shit, that girl has superpowers.

"Who is this?" A pale boy asked, staring at Eddie.

"Who is she?" Nancy asked, pointing at Robin.

"Who are these guys?" Eddie asked, grinning. "I'm sorry, I didn't want to be left out."

"Mike, Lucas, Will, El, Nancy, Jonathan. . .this is Eddie Munson, leader of a D&D club at the high school and the guys who saved Steve and Robin from being killed by the Russians," Dustin introduced.

"Russians?!" They exclaimed.

"D&D?!" Will exclaimed.

Before anyone could ask anything else, El the supergirl collapsed. Turns out there was something wiggling inside of her leg. Eddie was helping hold down her leg while Jonathan hovered over her with a knife when he caught El staring at him.

"Hi," He said.

"Are you my brother?" El asked.

"Uh. . ."

"Oh shit, you guys kind of do look alike," Dustin said.

"I don't know, kid, what's your father's name?" Eddie asked as Jonathan cut into her leg.

"Aunt Becky said his name was Andrew Rich," El said.

"Shit," Eddie cursed as Jonathan dug into her leg, and she yelled.

El ended up pulling the weird squishy thing out of her using her powers, and Chief Hopper, her adopted dad, stepped on it like it was a bug. Eddie sent Dustin to grab the biggest first aid he could find with needle and thread. He was going to have to stitch her up.

"Are you sure you can do this?" Hopper asked with El in his arms.

Dustin had come back with the first aid kid, and Eddie was preparing to stitch her up.

"I have done this several times for my dad, who was too drunk to do it himself. He was a doctor who showed me how. He kind of lost it after my mama died, and he kept getting into bar fights. The real person he was mad at was himself, though," Eddie said. "But you can't fight yourself. . .well. . ."

"How did she die?" El asked softly.

"Cancer. My dad was an oncologist, I think it killed him that he couldn't save her. I think it was also the fact that he wasn't a very good husband to her before she got sick. He practically cheated on her their entire marriage," Eddie said as he stitched her up. "When he went from bar fights to Grand Theft Auto, he did the only decent thing he ever did in his life and dropped me off at his brother's."

"Was she a good mama?" El asked.

"The best," Eddie whispered.

"I'm sorry," El said.

"Yeah," Eddie said, his voice choking.

"Is it true?" El asked.

"Is what true?" Hopper asked.

"Are you my brother?" El asked.

"Well, when he would go to bars to pick up women, he always used to use a false name. Well, for his last name anyway. Andrew Rich," Eddie said as he finished up wrapping his leg. "So, yeah, I guess I'm your brother."

He grinned, and she did the same. She leaned over and poked his dimples, doing the same to hers. Eddie laughed. El leaned forward and hugged him.

"I did not see that coming," Dustin said.

"Weren't you the one who said that they looked alike?" Steve asked.

"Semantics," Dustin waved him off.

Eddie pulled back from the hug, smiling as he blinked away the tears.

"Your bio dad is a disappointment, but let me tell you, our uncle is not. I think he would like to get to know you," Eddie said. "If your dad is okay with that?"

"It's her decision," Hopper said gruffly as he kissed her forehead.

"I would like to meet him," El said firmly.

There were so many more questions that Eddie had for El, and clearly, she had some too, but there were clearly more important things happening. Apparently, there was this thing called the Mind Flayer, the name had been taken from D&D, and it had built a monster from people. Ugh. Steve summed it up perfectly.

"Sorry. So, just to be clear, this. . . big fleshy spider thing that hurt El, it's some kind of giagantic. . .weapon? But instead of, like, screws and metal, the Mind Flayer made its weapon out of melted people?" Steve asked.

"Yes, exactly."

"Yeah. Okay. Yeah, I'm just making sure," Steve muttered.

Eddie was glad that he wasn't the only freaked out by that. Everything about this situation was overwhelming. He figured out his sexual identity and developed a crush on Steve Harrington while running from the Russians, then learned he had a sister! That last part actually wasn't too surprising, knowing how big of a slut his dad was. To top it all off, there was a fucking monster from another dimension made of melted people. Everything else before that seemed like nothing compared to the people who died. Or were they dead? If not, could they feel what's happening? Are they aware? God. He can't believe he's saying this, but. . .he hoped they were dead. He hoped they didn't know. They, however, were alive and not melted. He could be thankful for that.

"You okay?" Steve whispered.

"No. I was just thinking about those people. . ."

"Yeah, me too."

Steve brushed his hand against his, and Eddie felt the corners of his lips twitch. God, it was the little things that made Eddie absolutely crazy for this man. It wasn't long after that they had to part ways. Hopper, Joyce, and Murray were going down to the bunker to shut the machine that was opening the gate off. Murray creeped him out. He kept sending him, and Steve odd looks the entire time. It was like he knew. Meanwhile, Steve and Robin were going to take Dustin along with Erica to Dustin's fancy radio so they could navigate them through the bunker. The others were going to Murray's place.

"Take care of your sister," Hopper said, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "You're a good kid."

"Says the guy who arrested me a couple of times," Eddie said.

"The first time wasn't exactly your fault now, was it?" Hopper said, and then he was gone.

When Steve was set to leave, Eddie couldn't help himself. He threw his arms around Steve and hugged him tightly. Eddie burrowed his face into Steve’s neck and breathed in his scent. Eddie gagged.

"Oh. You stink, sweetheart," Eddie said.

"Oh, I'm sorry, let me just stop in the middle of this very fucked up situation and take a shower," Steve said, smiling.

"My nose would appreciate it, darling," Eddie replied, and Steve pushed him.

"Go protect your sister," Steve replied.

It was pure luck in the end that saved them and his sister. Right when the Mind Flayer was about to strike her down, the machine had been destroyed, he guessed, while Eddie cradled his sister in his arms. His face was swollen and bleeding from Hargrove's assault. Eddie let her sob into his chest, tired from fighting. That's when the American soldiers came in and led them outside into the parking lot, watching as the mall burned. He met Steve there, El leaning against his side until she spotted Hopper and Joyce. El took off towards them while Eddie took off towards Steve and Robin. He ended up pulling Robin into the hug as well. Steve breathed a sigh of relief into Eddie's neck.

"Eddie, sweetheart, you stink," Steve said.

All three of them started laughing.

"Don't worry, Robin, you stink too. Didn't want you to feel left out," Eddie said.

"You could have left me out of that, thank you, Munson," Robin replied.

"Eddie!" He heard his uncle's voice from across the lot.

Eddie broke the hug and saw his uncle running towards him. Eddie met him halfway, colliding with him into a tight hug.

"Uncle Wayne, damn it's good to see you," Eddie said.

"You didn't come home, and I saw the helicopters. . .I just knew so I followed them," Wayne said and pulled back. "What happened to your face, boy?"

"I got trampled on the way out," Eddie lied smoothly.

"You don't have to tell me what happened but please don't try to bullshit me, okay?" Wayne asked.

"I like boys and girls," Eddie blurted out.

"Well, I knew that, son," Wayne said.

"You knew?" Eddie asked in a quiet voice. "How did you know before I did?!"

"You don't think I know my own nephew?" Wayne asked, scoffing. "Besides, you aren't as mysterious as you think you are."

Eddie pouted. El suddenly appeared at his side, and he grinned, wrapping his arm around her.

"Oh, Uncle Wayne, this is El. . .she's my half sister," Eddie said proudly.

"Well, I don't think we need a DNA test. She looks a lot like you, Eds," he said and held out his hand. "Wayne Munson."

"El Hopper," she said, knocking his hand aside and hugging him.

"I may have told her that you're the best, and you give the best hugs," Eddie said cheerily.

Wayne chuckled and hugged her back.

"Easy there, Ellie, I'm an old man, now," Wayne said as she squeezed him and pulled back.

"Hah! Eddie and Ellie!" Eddie exclaimed and El giggled.

"I love it!"

Eddie watched the helicopters flying around overhead. He glanced back over to Steve, who was standing there awkwardly. He waved him over, and Steve raised an eyebrow with a curious look in his eyes. Eddie rolled his eyes and waved him over again. Steve jogged over, and Eddie played music in his head as he did so. He was sure he was grinning like an idiot. He made it out. He was alive. He had a family, new friends, and he had sort of gotten the guy! The guy! That part was still a little fuzzy. Were they together?

A FEW MONTHS LATER. . .Steve’s POV

Steve yawned and stretched, feeling that the other side of the bed was empty. Where was his boyfriend? Steve wondered out of the room and walked downstairs. The last few months had been great. There was still a lot of recovery left to do because of Starcourt. Everyone still had nightmares because of it. Some couldn't handle it, though. Billy had survived, but he couldn't handle what happened and had split town with his dad. Susan nearly fell apart, and she would have if it hadn't been for Hopper. Her and Max were now living in Eddie's trailer park. Ellie had been ecstatic that her brother, her uncle, and her best friend were now living quite close. Ellie was a name she had been happy to take up, but anyone was welcome to still call her El. Steve and Eddie had developed quite quickly, not that Steve had complained. He saw a future with Eddie, and there was hope that it was going to happen. That is, if he could find his gremlin of a boyfriend.

"Eddie?" Steve asked.

"In here!" Eddie called from the kitchen.

Steve sighed when he walked downstairs. There was a trail of mud leading from the backdoor to the kitchen. Steve followed it to see Eddie crouching on the floor covered head to foot in mud.

"Eddie?"

"Guess what? We have a baby!" Eddie exclaimed delightfully.

Eddie stepped back to reveal a brown kitten drinking a saucer of milk.

"Where did you find that?" Steve said.

"I followed him, and then the poor thing was stuck in the mud," Eddie said, picking it up and looking underneath. "It's a boy! Steve, we have a son! What should we name him?"

"I don't know. . .uh, Brownie?" Steve asked, crowing beside him and scratching behind the kitten's ear.

"How original," Eddie said sarcastically and then gasped. "Bowie! Bowie would be so perfect!"

"Bowie Munson!" Steve exclaimed.

"He's taking my name?" He asked with big eyes.

"Of course, for the daddy that found him!" Steve exclaimed. "Plus, he has the same crazy look in his eyes that you do."

"Hey! Rude!" Eddie said and grinned. "I'm going to go called Ellie Bellie and Dusty Buns! They need to know that they're an auntie and an uncle!"

"You're going to clean this up, right?" Steve asked.

"Of course, baby!" Eddie exclaimed and disappeared down the hall.

Bowie meowed at his feet.

"Your daddy's full of shit," Steve said. "I'm going to be the one to clean it up. I wouldn't change a thing, though. Your daddy makes life interesting. I'm so glad he followed us."

#stranger things #eddie munson #stranger things s4 #joseph quinn #eddie stranger things #eddie munson lives #steve harrington #steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie fanfiction #bisexual eddie munson #bisexual steve harrington #long fic #stranger things fanart #rueleigh writes #rueleigh edits

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washroom-cubicles · 2 years

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Advantages of using operable walls in your office space

The importance of office partitions has grown as the office space has evolved. Every business must adapt and evolve in order to thrive. The layout of your office reflects how your company operates and its overall vibe. Modern office partitions are an efficient way to adhere to the collaborative structure of the modern office. Structures such as cubicle partitions, movable walls, free-standing dividers, and so on enable you to design a productive yet aesthetically pleasing workplace.

Let's take a look at how modern office partitions can be integrated into your workplace and how they can benefit your business.

Increases aesthetics: A growing emphasis is being placed on designing a space that is both beautiful and functional. Intentional design means combining form and function to create a beautiful space that promotes employee well-being, increases collaboration, and welcomes clients. Reconstruction projects are frequently costly and time-consuming; operable walls are simple to install and cost-effective.

Modern design: Our office designs are created to complement your current interior design and architecture. Our designers will collaborate with you to create sophisticated and chic operable walls for your office space. Furthermore, while this partition system allows you to create temporary rooms in your workplace, we design them to appear permanent in order to blend in seamlessly with your architecture.

Create private spaces: Within an open office structure, free-standing walls are used to create private and quiet areas. This segregation enables you to create segregated workspaces away from high-traffic areas of the office. Private offices and conference rooms with doors can be created to increase privacy.

Create an optimally functional workplace: Modern office partitions enable you to transform modern layouts with ease. In fact, they can aid in the integration of traditional office layouts into a modern office space. Employers are concerned about their employees' physical and mental health, as well as the health of their company. This has aided in the development of adaptable office layouts that take into account the wants and needs of the employees. This contributes to the creation of a highly functional work environment.

Less noise: Noise at work can have a significant impact on workers' moods because it reduces their ability to concentrate and focus. When this happens, productivity and output will suffer. Workplace partition systems are treated with sound-absorbing materials, which reduce external and internal noise significantly. You won't have to worry about people making a lot of noise in the office.

Venesta's toilet cubicles and washrooms combine cutting-edge technology with exceptional performance and aesthetics. They have an operable wall that is designed to meet your needs in terms of functionality and visual appeal. Contact us if you are looking for a Kwik wall company in Dubai.

#movable walls #kwik wall #operable walls #wall partition #foldable walls

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blueiskewl · 6 months

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A 2,600-Year-Old Unopened Etruscan Tomb Discovered in Italy

Community leaders and archeologists in central Italy recently gathered in the municipality of Montalto di Castro for the opening of a tomb that dates back more than 2 1/2 millennia, the municipality announced in a social media post last week.

"Today … we witnessed the opening of an ancient Etruscan tomb buried at the Osteria Necropolis in Vulci," the municipality of Montalto di Castro, which sits along the Mediterranean Sea about 100 miles northwest of Rome, wrote Oct. 27 on Facebook, calling the grand unveiling "a day of culture and history" in a translated statement.

Historians say the Etruscans built their civilization on a portion of the land that is now modern-day Italy, beginning as early as 900 B.C., and operated as a network of city-states not completely unlike the Roman Republic that came after it. The Etruscans dominated Italy until falling, as a result of the Roman-Etruscan wars, to the then-expanding Roman empire around the 4th century B.C.

Vulci, an archaeological site in the northern Lazio region not far from Montalto di Castro, was once a rich Etruscan city. Its ruins have become a popular spot for tourist visits and as well as a place of interest for archaeological excavations.

The tomb discovered there earlier this year was found remarkably intact when it was officially opened at the end of October, for the first time in about 2,600 years, according to the Italian online magazine Finestre sull'Arte, which focuses on ancient and contemporary art. It was opened and explored following the opening of a similar tomb in the area this past April, the magazine reported. Montalto di Castro Mayor Emanuela Socciarelli attended the opening along with Simona Baldassarre, the councilor of culture for the Lazio region, Simona Carosi, the manager of the Superintendency of Archaeology for the province of Viterbo and southern Etruria, and Carlos Casi, the director of the Vulci Foundation, which helped lead the excavation alongside archeologists.

Archaeologists found a collection of long-lost treasures inside the ancient tomb, including a collection of pottery and amphorae, which are tall jars with two handles and a narrow neck typically associated with ancient Greek or Roman cultures. The jars contained wine from Greece, likely from the island of Chios, Finestre sull'Arte reported. It could be a relic of the wine trade happening at that time in history.

Utensils, cups, iron objects, and a variety of ceramics and decorative accessories were also found inside the tomb in perfect condition, as was a tablecloth that may have been used for a funerary ritual offering called "the last meal" or "meal of the dead." A bronze cauldron was also found.

The stockpile of personal belongings found inside the tomb suggests the family for whom it was constructed was probably quite wealthy in their day.

The complex structure and layout of the burial site is also important to archeologists and historians, Casi told the Italian news outlet Il Messaggero, noting that the tomb "appears to be characterized by a partition saved in the rock which creates a passage arch between the dromos, i.e. the short corridor with steps, and the vestibule, from which the two rooms were accessed, the front one and the one on the left: the usual one on the right is missing, evidently because the space had already been occupied by other tombs."

By EMILY MAE CZACHOR.

#A 2600-Year-Old Unopened Etruscan Tomb Discovered in Italy #Montalto di Castro #Osteria Necropolis in Vulci #ancient tomb #ancient grave #ancient necropolis #ancient artifacts #archeology #archeolgst #history #history news #ancient history #ancient culture #ancient civilizations #roman history #roman empire #etruscan history

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comicaurora · 1 year

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I know you done content on hard versus soft magic systems but what is your opinion on crunchy versus smooth?

I will use atla to explain.

Season one The power system is well defined but basic Air Water Earth Fire. Simple to understand very straightforward (smooth)

By the end of the legend of Korra, you have several sub-categories and completely new categories as well (crunchy)

ah, a greebled magic system

I like complicated "crunchy" yet rigidly-defined magic systems, because they give the creator a lot of stuff to play with while also giving them constraints to operate in that dictate a lot of what can and can't happen with the plot. The danger, of course, is in introducing a form of magic that actually makes no sense, or something that devalues other elements of the system because its impact wasn't fully reasoned out, or carving off a part of an existing magic chunk and making it inaccessible for unjustified reasons.

I also feel like sometimes the extra crunch of a magic system can betray a lack of creativity on the part of the creator - having to invent entirely new magics instead of considering new applications for the old ones.

Bloodbending? Lightning-bending as an advanced firebending technique? Combustion Man as a unique one-off assassin? That armless waterbender lady with a completely new martial arts style? Zaheer using airbending to kill the Earth Queen? Dope new applications of existing concepts that make the magic system feel large, fluid and powerful. These are extensions of existing concepts that feel logical, or at least understandable.

Airbenders Who Abandon All Earthly Connections Can Levitate Now? Weird and kind of retroactively disruptive that it never came up before.

By The Way Lavabending Is Its Own Special Weird Thing Now Like Metalbending Was? Feels like we needed to invent a reason for this sidelined character to matter.

There's a risk to carving off too many chunks of a magic system, I think. Avatar started simple: everything the heroes could do or figure out was an extension of first principles. Lightning is kinda like weird pure fire, so lightning-bending made sense as an advanced firebending technique with a big risk of blowing up in your face. Bloodbending is literally something any waterbender can do once they realize it's possible - the horror of it is that it's a forbidden technique that becomes impossibly easy just by knowing about it. Toph figuring out metalbending by virtue of having a completely unique and incredibly granular sense for the earth around her ALSO worked, because (a) "metal can't be bent" has been firmly established several times and is clearly common knowledge, and (b) she was clearly the first person who'd ever had that combination of skill and disability and she was building her style from the ground up.

By the Korra timeline, however, we start running into things like lavabending, which should absolutely not be its own weird thing. It's just rock. We've already seen Kyoshi bend lava. If I recall correctly, the show doesn't sufficiently explain why lavabending is a weird separate thing from earthbending, making it feel like a logical component of the earthbending powerset is being arbitrarily gated just to make an otherwise disregarded character Slightly Important by being able to do it.

Stuff like that makes the magic system feel less internally solid. "Why CAN'T this magic do [thing]" is an extremely important question for a worldbuilder to be able to answer, and an overly greebled and partitioned magic system often can't explain why magic X and magic Y are totally separate. Skills and techniques and personal preferences among casters are fine to explain why something may or may not be possible for someone, but "what magic can and can't do and WHY" is something that I think should be as firmly, logically coherent as possible.

#asks #writing stuff

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fatehbaz · 10 months

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A devastating rail crash that left almost 300 people dead has refocused international attention on the importance of railways in the lives of Indians.

Indeed, to many Western observers, images of men and women crammed into overcrowded cars serve as a metaphor for modern India. Take, for example, a report by German newspaper Der Spiegel on India’s population surpassing China’s. Published just weeks before the accident in Odisha province on June 2, the now much-criticized cartoon depicted a shabby Indian train crammed with passengers rushing past a streamlined Chinese train with only two people in it.

Where does this enduring image in the West of Indian railways – and of India – come from? As a scholar of Indian history and author of 2015 book “Tracks of Change: Railways and Everyday Life in Colonial India,” I believe the answers lie in the gigantic infrastructure projects of the 19th century – forged at the intersection of colonial dictates and capitalist demands.

---

A carrier of freight, not people

Railways remain the backbone of passenger traffic in India, transporting some 23 million people daily. In the pre-pandemic 2018-19 financial year, 7.7 billion passenger journeys in India. [...] Yet, when first planned in the 1840s, India’s railways were intended to primarily transport freight and livestock, not people. Indians were thought unlikely to become railway passengers by directors of the English East India Co., a merchant monopoly that gradually annexed and administered large parts of India under U.K. crown control. [...] However, early colonial railway policy was driven by pervasive Orientalist imaginings of a people rendered immobile by poverty, living in isolated villages [...]. The trope interlocked with colonial thinking that railways would foster greater industrialization which in turn would further a capitalist economy. They also aligned with the practical needs of a colonial trading monopoly which needed raw materials for English industries, such as cotton, to be moved swiftly and efficiently from India’s interiors to port towns [...].

---

Despite the doubters, the new Indian railways attracted an increasing number of passengers. The half-million passengers recorded in 1854 when tracks became operational increased to 26 million in 1875. By 1900, annual passenger figures stood at 175 million and then almost trebled to 520 million by 1919-20. By the time of the partition of India in 1947 it had risen to more than 1 billion passenger journeys annually. Indeed, images of overcrowded trains came to epitomize the upheaval of partition, with the rail system used to carry swaths of uprooted peoples across the soon-to-be Pakistan-India border. Third-class passengers, overwhelmingly Indians, comprised almost 90% of this traffic. These escalating figures did not, however, generate a lowering of fares. Nor did they result in any substantial improvements in the conditions of [...] travel. [...]

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The generally British railway managers seemed disinclined to remedy systematic overcrowding, which included transporting passengers in wagons meant for livestock. Rather, they insisted that such overcrowding was caused by the peculiar habits and inclinations of Indian passengers: their alleged [...] inclination to follow one another “like sheep” into crowded carriages. These attributes were soon rendered into a more public narrative, especially among Western mindsets. Journalist H. Sutherland Stark, writing for the industry publication Indian State Railways Magazine in 1929, stated that though “unversed” in railway administration and traffic control, he knew railway facilities were not the problem. Rather, Indian passengers lacked the mental preparedness, “self-possession” and “method” necessary to travel like “sane human beings.” Stark suggested passenger education as a solution to the perceived problem, making railway travel a tool for “self-composure and mass orderliness.” [...]

---

More than a century later, this depiction endures, though, ironically, it now serves as a foil to understanding contemporary India. In a piece published in The New York Times on March 12, 2005, the author lauded the then-new Delhi metro, emphasizing that it had “none of the chaotic squalor of hawkers and beggars that characterizes mainline railroads in India, nor do desperate travelers hang from the sides of the trains.” As the debate rages on whether safety has taken a back seat to “glossy modernization projects” in India – early analyses suggest signaling failure might have caused June 2, 2023, accident – railways continue to represent India’s history.

In the heyday of empire, they were deemed the technology through which Britain would drag India into capitalist modernity. In 1947, they became a leitmotif for the trauma of the partition that accompanied the independence of India and Pakistan. As the coverage of Odisha accident reminds us, it continues to be a metaphor in the West for evaluating contemporary India.

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Headline, image, caption, and all text above by: Ritika Prasa. “Overcrowded trains serve as metaphor for India in Western eyes -- but they are a relic of colonialism and capitalism.” The Conversation. 9 June 2023. [Bold emphasis and some paragraph breaks/contractions added by me.]

#ecology #colonial #imperial #abolition

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uesp · 9 months

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Did You Know: AIOS (Automata Incarnum Overseer System) was a master factotum of the Clockwork City created to maintain and supervise substrata operations, with multiple partitions located within the Cogitum Centralis?

#uesp #the elder scrolls #lore #elder scrolls online #did you know

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anguishedlurker · 28 days

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Sorry, our hands are tied about this!

Prompt "Nocturne fucked up BIG TIME and now needs help from the ghost kid." from kadziduo on ao3/ @duchi-nesten on tumblr! Get phic phought :) Edit: Functioning Ao3 link now that I have a working brain tonight

“Fix it. Before I do” Was all Clockwork said before vanishing.

Fix what? Nocturne didn’t know, but nonetheless knew that Clockwork was presently threatening its non-life into vanishment.

Many types of accidents could be arranged.

Fix it before Clockwork does, and left to do its own research to boot. How droll.

Creeping, trawling through random dreams for a hint. Its purpose, if not its goal in its non-life. Delightful nonsense and soft desires clashing against horrid possibilities and terrible unrealities.

Fix it, before Clockwork does. How unhelpful.

Fix it, fix it, fix it… What a dreadful chant to have been produced by the English language.

Finally, Nocturne conceded that it would have to either be very lucky, or open its eyes to the waking realm to find anything out.

If pressed for honesty, it would not call this a dreadful task. The waking realm is, afterall, the source of the realm of sleep. It pays to understand what one is reflecting.

But ah, so many dull details to mull over...

Fix it. Fix what? It wasn’t obvious until it was all that could be seen.

Magical items with magical properties are objects largely outside of Nocturne's purview.

Unless it has to do with sleep.

And unless it’s the one that made the cursed things, which were now its problem to solve.

In more ways than one, even.

Clockwork has simply sped the timeline up on this being its problem.

The objects were older than English, but could be generously translated to ‘Ribbons of Night’. Each of the six operated slightly differently from the other five when active.

Which makes it sound as if one ribbon could be depended on to be the same ribbon when activated.

Absolutely not. Even with a ribbon permanently attached to oneself between activations, there was no predicting which one you had at any given moment. They were the unholy fusion of dream logic and schrodingers box principals.

It was more complicated than that, granted. There were in fact signs that could point you towards which you had at any given moment, and thus could be leveraged to accomplish whatever ones goal was reliably if you were willing to wait.

No matter what, they were usually weak enough to not be a bother to much more than the fool who thought they could control the mind, and whatever half dozen idiots they saw fit to terrorize.

Usually.

It greatly depended on the energy willfully put into them, see...

More energy, more chaos and for even longer. What’s not to love?

Adorable little things, so long as a weird cult of both ghosts and humans don’t get all six and strategically place them around both realms and dump a small nations worth of power into each of them.

You know, because who would ever do that? Truly, such a thing would take a ridiculous series of logical leaps (to think it was a good idea) and logistical nightmares (to make real) that it would be immediately branded a fever dream and disregarded.

Nocturne would typically be inclined to not be involved with the whole debacle, its not as if it could reabsorbed the partitioned fragments itself, but there’s a small problem with the ribbons and how they operate.

The issue is slightly two-fold, and also just the same problem twice over. What can Nocturne say, its things like to be complicated like that.

The ribbons are small fragments of Nocturne, modified for usage by the average ghost. Living need not apply, but if they can work around it then power too them. Nocturne's power is a scary thing to have loose in any realm, particularly at small-nation’s-electrical-grid scale.

And also, the dreams are fragments of Nocturne, that turning off requires either patience for their power to run dry or for a test of power and will to succeed.

Backlash from such a test is usually not of Nocturne's concern- if a fool decided to power a ribbon beyond their control and had to pay to turn it off, Nocturne's side would sting for ten seconds and then stop. Whether the fool was dead or not didn’t matter to Nocturne.

But if the ribbons were powered to the point they’d take years to stop, and also all six of them were going strong at once, meaning that everyone would be forced to contest them, win or lose, in the name of everyone’s continued existence…

Nocturne has finite durability, and that’s a lot of damage.

Even if the inflictors will die with Nocturne, it will be done because nothing has a choice right now..

The whole mess did clarify to Nocturne why Clockwork would care to harass it, though. It gave two reasons, even.

World balance… not Nocturne's domain, though certainly one of Clockworks. Accidents could be arranged, but these ribbons were older than most living nations.

Accidents could be arranged, but Clockworks chain was rather short. A plan like this would’ve been decades in the making, if not centuries, and the observants would be none too pleased if Clockwork were to do real work outside their supervision. Meaning for real work and not silly lessons with effects quickly undone, Clockwork’s self initiative had chain of about six weeks in either direction, with one arranged accident per inconvenience before they were pressed about activity.

An accident could be arranged, but unless that accident extended across two dimensions and obliterated somewhere around four hundred to two thousand beings in one go Clockwork was stuck explaining themself to the council. And to papercut a decades long plan to death? That work would be noticed too.

Accidents plural could be arranged, but no accidents Clockwork could justify to a council of the most belligerent asshats Nocturne had ever had the displeasure of meeting would also arrange a solution without sending everyone years back, something the council would not do.

The decorative bow atop the rest of Clockworks restraints was that accidents could be arranged, but even if Nocturne's spot were to be taken the successor would simply have the same problem because the process would make them into the ‘same’ being and they would inherit the ribbons, and killing Nocturne (or otherwise) in such a violent manner would have massive world shaking blowout. Potentially worse than the ribbons were doing and would do over the years.

The final answer was to destroy decades worth of timeline to fix this, and no ghost in the world would agree on how or why to do that. Could the council stop debating themselves to obliteration before their time to solve this was up?

Clockwork didn’t seem to think so.

Getting to Long Now was such a nuisance on average, but Nocturne (correctly) presumed that one it’d gotten to the bottom of its new task then Clockwork would humor it with a more thorough conversation.

This time, it didn’t even have to break the front doors. How unusual!

Clockwork refused to turn from the mirrors before them, and Nocturne had to force down the indignation as it took its place high above.

Dreams are much weaker than the irrevocable force of Time, and killing Nocturne here would be messy and bad, but make the new problems straight forward.

“I will elect not to lecture if you turn to speak on equal terms. I will call this fair, given you’ve decided you’re in a corner. Enough to reach out.”

Ahhh to not lose touch with scathing statements, drenched in politics. Nocturne never misses them much, but such words have use.

Passively, Clockwork flickered and reappeared facing Nocturne.

“Better.” Nocturne hummed, electing to drip onto the floor from the ceiling. “Now-”

“Do not pretend you’ve power over this mess any more than I.”

“Never claimed anything of the sort! But you could do to acknowledge your partner in crime before you bark commands down the chain.”

Clockwork’s hand twitched, tightening around their staff, and Nocturne was sure they were mentally calculating if it was worth trying the conversation again.

“Now, I know the goal is peace, but pray tell if you’ve got a spare thought for how that is going to happen?”

Nocturne would genuinely like to know; Its continued existence was on the line the moment an idiot got martyr-y about it.

“Handling the ribbons is a monumental task at this scale, with few qualified to stop the ribbons and fewer still capable of surviving the job.”

“Yes, very much so. But if you’ll kindly direct some concern to the rest of the issue…”

Clockwork sighed, and turned to mirrors.

With a grand gesture designed to piss it off, the ribbon of… translation pending, appeared before them on the mirrors.

In the realm of volcanoes and fire was a crack, and in this crack was madness, and in this madness was a shard of Nocturne's body.

It was difficult to articulate the appearance of ‘void, but with sharp edges and hatred’, but thankfully Nocturne didn’t need to speak aloud about such a thing. Just stare at it as Clockwork warmed up to their point.

And then they didn’t progress the conversation in an action likely designed to piss Nocturne off even more.

Good thing Nocturne did not have teeth to grind.

“Yes, yes, the ribbon of… pleasure?”

“Close enough.”

Nocturne was sure Clockwork was smiling underneath that hood over its noise of disgust.

“The ribbon of pleasure, in the infinite zone of volcanoes and fire, and at the center my fragment ripe for the challenge. I am waiting to die from these miserable little mistakes, and await your suggestion to the contrary.”

“Now, who said anything about challenges?”

“Me.” Nocturne huffed, shuffling forward to examine the fragment.

“Why?”

Oh Nocturne could just...

“Because the fools who started this will have no further options. Because anyone fit to rise to solve this will not get further options.”

“Wrong.”

Nocturne refused to squirm in the following silence, immediately deciding it would out wait Clockwork of it was the last thing it ever did.

Clockwork seemed to catch on immediately at least, though it was difficult to tell if such a catch on was in fact after two hours of Nocturne commuting to suicide by any other name.

“Petulance will not serve you well in this instance. Regardless, if an appropriately powered being can approach with an appropriately malleable skillset, most fragments of this nature can be absorbed as opposed to destroyed.”

Ah. They’d gone mad, it sees this now.

“A fascinating theory. But see, there’s a lot of ifs you’re not articulating.” Nocturne hissed, jerking back from the mirrors to refocus on Clockwork.

“You first.” Clockwork hummed.

Of modest annoyances, this one failed to land. The predictability was more annoying, really.

“If we can find an appropriate candidate then they’d have to have the theoretical potential of at least me, and if we can find that someone they would have to be a child- still moldable in all ways including accepting my power-, and if we could find that child then even beyond its capacity to change it must have the separate capacity to walk two worlds, and if we find that child then we must hide it for long enough to get to keep it from the observants’ machinations and purify it of my influence. Provided we even can purify it.”

The final two were the truest sticking points of all; Nocturne, just as Clockwork, would never be permitted to keep a child. Nocturne wouldn’t even be allowed to keep a willing adult, but that was beyond the point.

“Not easy enough to hide, but I have my ways in keeping the observants eyes off me to get real work done.” Clockwork allowed.

Nocturne didn’t get chills easily, but it finally clicked to it that maybe, just maybe...

Nocturne was already in some deeply illegal shit just by being here, this time.

“You didn’t. Not already.”

“Oh, but I have. Did you think you’d get to say no to me? The moment the observants understand they have a blank spot in time, you will be found and interrogated as the missing piece.”

Nocturne was forced to pause.

It really, truly had to physically wrench itself back. The wild temperament of Dreams would lead to disaster.

“Fascinating. Would you like to know your odds of sense, in this instance?”

“No. I’d like to know who you have in mind, since you’re so smart as to kill us both.”

Clockwork hummed, pleased with themself as they waved at the mirrors again.

No chills, but…

“You’re joking, right?”

The young boy that had foiled its romp in Amity, desperately trying not to wilt into the wallpaper as his parents ranted and raved.

“Why would I?”

“To lure me into false hope. Your pet child is non negotiable to you, and you’ve missed the part where we’ll need to strip it of everything it gains. You wouldn’t.”

Clockworks hand tightened again, and Nocturne could hear the staff creak ever so slightly as the pressure became far greater than any mortal material could dream of handling.

“My child… I am pleased to know you regard it as such, but no. Young Danny is not mine to keep.”

“In formalities alone, no. But he’s yours, and you’re rather fond of the boy. Unless I’ve been seeing some other ghostling visit you every Sunday.”

Clockwork wasn’t looking directly at Nocturne, which was not technically a good sign.

“Not to keep.” Clockwork growled. Cracks spread along a mirror or possibly three, Nocturne was suddenly much too fixated on every errant twitch to care about the mirrors.

Nocturne did its best to not flinch away- despite the obviously in-equal status, Nocturne was a GOD in its own right. It couldn’t afford to flinch.

“That doesn’t matter, Clockwork. And if you would deign to clarify how we’re going to purify it...”

Clockwork didn’t relax as they shook their head no.

“The fuck you mean no, I’m helping dig your ass out this mess too. You wouldn’t be knocking on my door if you had other choices.”

“Two fold issue, a long story hardly of relevance.” Clockwork huffed, turning back towards their mirrors. With a wave and a suspiciously loud tick noise, the mirrors in question returned to an undamaged state. Phantom’s family resumed arguing on them, the boy left to awkwardly shuffle towards the stairs.

“Kroonoooooossss.” Nocturne elected to drawl after a pause.

Don’t get it wrong, it knew its risks. But it had a very bad hand before it, and would like to know if the pot cards made a difference.

The noise of total contempt Clockwork gave in response made it all worth it.

“There’s no world where you don’t know my problems with this. It’s lunacy at its finest. You’re sending me in blind to lead the meek and blind, the observants would rather I die and they play cleanup than let us do this anyhow, and somehow I think I and the observants have the fewest issues with these events. Forgive the acquisition of slang, there’s too many plot holes with this plan!”

“No, there isn’t. But you don’t have room for negotiation, do you?”

No, but that’s not stopping it.

“You have me verbally hostage, if not physically. I think me demanding a real answer as to why you care is the least amount of detail you can give me.”

“Wrong. Conversation over, go home and decide if you’d like to live.”

Nocturne wouldn’t have been able to take the belligerence anymore, lurching itself forward to assault Clockwork.

But it was already awake in one of its caves, three days before Nocturne figured out its task, one day before Clockwork had even informed it that it had a task, and a full sixteen hours after the cultists had completed the rituals.

Nocturne had fucked up in many ways, big and small.

For one, it had risen to Clockworks bait at all. Talk about taking one step forward and having your shins shattered for the effort…

Impossible to say if the mess could’ve gone differently, though. Clockwork clearly had a plan that Nocturne was but a vehicle for.

For two, Nocturne had no doubt Clockwork had already spent their one cosmic accident budget to make Nocturne look even worse out of this- all the better to force it to their whims. It had an educated guess about where that accident went, but what did it matter? Clockwork didn’t do anything by halves, Nocturne was fucked. Which went back to point one.

There were more fuck ups of course, some of them older than the swears it was muttering. A specific six of them, in fact.

One in the land of Volcanoes, one in the land of Atlanta Georgia, one in the land of The jungle, one in the land of Dallas Texas, one in the largest functioning cyber-network in the zone (now if Nocturne could get a clear answer about what that was, this would be nice), and one in the land of Shenghai China.

And apparently at the center of it all, a not-dead child to save them all! Joy!

Lunacy, lunacy, lunacy… What would the point be, in the end? Making the boy suffer like that for the world, once again?

Provided Clockworks pet could live, anyhow…

Maybe that was the point. A dramatic exit for what the observants already had their laser sights on, anyhow. A heroes death at it’s finest.

Whatever. It had its path and task, and despite everything Clockwork wasn’t self destructive. The situation would be solved if Nocturne obeyed.

Nocturne refused to trust any other detail of the situation, not that it changed its new goal.

It had to move fast. Find the portal, enter the house, spot the boy. Shuffling to the stairs as his parents bellowed away over something stupid.

Punctuated by everyone but him collapsing to the ground like all pathetic mortals in The Final Rest’s presence.

Form of stars, voice of satin, dripping like slime from cracks at the edge of the child’s vision.

Nocturne was sure it had made its entrance clear.

The white rings traveled up the child's body, revealing his powered form even as he dropped into an aggressive stance.

“Halt. Despite my entrance, this is more an offer of peace. Nice and quiet now, wouldn’t you agree?”

The boy couldn’t hide the shaky breath he took.

“Knocking people out isn’t peaceful.” He hissed, turning to glare at one of Nocturne’s larger blobs.

“I thought I kicked you out already. Back for another round?” He attempted to taunt, false confidence rising by the second.

“Please, child. Booting me out of one of my more vicious play fights is not a point of pride.”

The boy flushed a deeper green in barely concealed rage, backing away from the bulk of Nocturne’s form as it pooled in the center of the room.

“You have to have seen the news already. Three human locations under mysterious effects. It hasn’t been long, but it’s been profound, no?” It asked bluntly, rising as an owl this time. Rams were so last week, afterall.

The boys eyes flicked to the middle distance, contemplating.

“Maybe. Or maybe I don’t follow politics. Who knows, really?” He huffed.

“Stupidity gets you nowhere. Cultists have stolen artifacts of mine and used them for terrorism in its truest definition, in both the human realm and the infinite realm. It will spread if unmanaged.” Nocturne sighed, glooping its way towards the boy and stretching to far taller.

That certainly elicited a reaction, but who could say what was going on in the boy’s skull?

“And you’re sooo altruistic you wanna solve this yourself, I take it?” He prodded, backing away to the wall. If it occurred to him that he could phase through the wall and simply leave, it didn’t show.

Perhaps the child could’ve been a politician with that tonal bite. Alas...

“I have plenty to lose of they’re dealt with by traditional means. And you have much to lose if this spreads too far. The amount of people who die regardless if traditionally dealt with is uncountable. You, and the world with it, are in just as dire of straits as I with this mess.”

The boy paused, looking Nocturne up and down.

“And why should I take your word for it?”

Hmm… maybe if..

Nocturne made a sound like a shuddering breath and sank its form to only slightly taller than the boy.

“Because it’s not my word, it’s Clockworks.”

Another strong reaction. Nocturne was getting somewhere.

“And if you’re lying?”

Nocturne bowed forward slightly to imply consideration.

The child wasn’t wrong to distrust it, dreams were tricky things afterall. And personal experience gave a firm indication as to Nocturne’s temperament, be that true or false.

But the awake were always so predictable…

“We can visit them to ask, if you like. But permanence will take within days. It needs to be you, and we need to go. Now.”

The boy closed his eyes, considering.

“Clockwork, first. No confirmation, no help.” He ordered, eyes snapping open ans he crossed his arms.

“Of course.” Nocturne muttered, carefully eyeing how the child prepped to fly along with it.

He didn’t get the chance to fly on his own, already plucked away by Nocturne as it swooped down to the portal.

No time to waste, its non-life was on the line. And if the screaming was funny, then that was a bonus.

#danny phantom #dp #fic #long #phic phight #phic phight 2024 #phandom event #Nocturne (Danny Phantom)#Clockwork (Danny Phantom)#Danny Fenton

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