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s7-evermore · 4 years

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𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐄 [Preview]

↳ 𝔽𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕠𝕞: Ikemen Vampire x Ikemen Revolution

↳ 𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕣𝕖/𝕤: Slice of life(?), misc...

↳ ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕖𝕣: Sekiguchi Gin (OC)

↳ ℕ𝕠𝕥𝕖𝕤: I will be using some ikemen revolution characters as normal people in this story. Most of them will be around Gin’s age here or older...

𝔻𝕖𝕤𝕔𝕣𝕚𝕡𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟:

After the death of her grandfather, 15-year-old Gin is left in the hands of a mysterious relative of hers. He goes by the name Comte de Saint-Germain and he tells her everything that has been left unsaid between her and her grandfather...

[ GIN ]

𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞, I never saw things the same way other people did. Some say it's a blessing, some may say it's a curse, but along the way, I lost the idea of what those two words meant. The sky was especially blue today, not completely devoid of clouds, perhaps only small wisps of them, like the left behind cotton candy lingering in the cotton candy machine. They looked sweet just like them, drifting ever so slowly with the pace of the sun.

I watched silently as people passed by, particles in different colors and shapes trailing behind them, lingering on their clothing or on their skin. The scent of the flowers on my front lawn was carried away by the wind, to the bees, and to the nostrils of my neighbor and his dog.

My kind neighbor gazed at me with a sympathetic expression, but I paid no attention to it. I think I've had enough with receiving those kinds of looks now.

I sat outside the house I have now been living in alone for a few days since Gramps' death. I was waiting for someone, but I didn't know who.

Well, not exactly. I've seen Gramps writing and exchanging letters with him several times before. I never looked into those letters or read them at all whenever Gramps accidentally left them on the dining room table. But I remember how those letters looked from a distance. Cursive words were neatly written with elegant penmanship, matching the stationery it was inscribed on.

To me, it looked like Gramps was exchanging words with someone from another time. Someone who was still stuck in the past, writing letters instead of emails, sending long messages through paper instead of simply DMing him.

Gramps told me this person was a distant relative of mine on my father's side, which made me curious every time. I barely knew anything about my father, other than the fact that he was always craving for adventure, so much that he just... disappeared.

I don't even remember much of my mother's face. Sometimes I hear her singing to me, the song was a blur, but I remember the tone of her voice, so tender and sweet. I only remember the way her hair flowed in the wind because we had the same hair color, but that was about it. Most of my childhood memories were hazy recollections of my mother and most of them were only about my grandfather and me.

Gramps was probably the only one I had most memories of. I could remember almost every little thing about him. He would play songs from his old record player whenever we did spring cleaning once a week in the afternoon. His usual breakfast was avocado toast, eggs, and cheese paired with apple juice, and sometimes he'd make me the same meal when I said I didn't mind.

He had a large study of his own, but I never went in it because I wanted to respect his privacy. I've snuck a few glances whenever he left the door slightly ajar, and I would see his scratched mahogany desk and his old reading lamp sitting on the corner of it. I remembered the tall shelf of books on the other side of the room, as well as the old grandfather clock whose hands were frozen in time.

Gramps kept grandma's old china in a glass cupboard that I never bothered to touch, I always left Gramps to clean it because I never trusted myself with antiques like that. Also because next to that cupboard was a stash of his favorite sake, and I automatically knew I wasn't allowed to touch those.

I remember the times when he would drop me off and pick me up from school, he would always tell me old jokes that we'd both laugh at. He always laughed hard when it came to jokes, he'd laugh harder at his own.

I remember the times when I'd come home late after hanging out with my friends. He would always leave me dinner and he would either be asleep or working and writing in his study. Gramps never cared about who I made friends with as long as they weren't bad enough to make me commit crimes or murder someone. As long as I knew what I was doing, then he didn't mind what I did. Perhaps that was his way of letting me know that he respected my privacy too as I did with his.

Gramps was basically the only family I thought I had, that was until a few months ago when he told me he'd reached out to an old friend of his, which happened to be the relative from my father's side. He told me he was from France, but he never truly told me his name. Gramps called him 'Comte' and said that was the only name most people referred to him by.

I remembered my 14th birthday. Gramps received another letter from this Comte that night and told me it had come with a package for me. Although I knew it was from a stranger (that I now referred to as my distant relative who I had no idea even existed), I was excited to open it the moment Gramps said it was for me. When I unraveled the silk blue ribbon, I was astonished to find a golden butterfly hairclip resting against a velvet cushion, gleaming bright with opulence inside the cream white box.

Gramps was the one who clipped it on my head the next day when I was preparing for school, he even told me not to take it off or ruin it as it was obviously expensive. So, I never did. I never took it off unless I had to take a shower or sleep. I always kept the hairpin near, in my bag, or tucked safely in my pocket. I cleaned it every now and then too, to maintain its gleam.

Until now, as I waited, I felt the butterfly pin clipped on my hair. I wonder if this Comte guy would notice it?

Averting my eyes away from the sky once again, I look at the large rolled luggage next to me, filled with things I considered 'necessary', and the large guitar case that once belonged to my mother sitting next to it.

You go through life thinking you need a lot. I thought the same thing when I was thinking about what to pack. Clothes for spring, summer, autumn, winter, a small collection of my favorite mangas and books, the cute stationery I've been collecting over the years, my favorite anime figurines and nendroids, and useless notebooks with stories surreal enough to consider a child's...

But the longer I let my mind roam, the more I realized that everything I deemed necessary didn't seem as important to me now as it was before. I remember taking all those things out of my travel luggage and shoved in the only few clothes I thought was my favorite, the scarf Gramps made for me when I was twelve, the two albums of CDs that I bought over the years with the money I saved, the CD player and the pair of headphones he bought for me during my 14th birthday (it was adorable. Some people would consider that word to be the last thing you'd call an elderly man, but how could he not be when he tried so hard to search about modern trends just to know what a typical teenager like me would like?), my switch, my wallet, and my phone, my camera, and a photo of my mother.

I was only fifteen, and in the future half of these things might be useless to me, but I just had to keep them as a reminder that I did have a good childhood. One that I would be willing to look back on when I'm old enough.

As for everything else, I will leave them as pieces of me. I thought that maybe leaving behind things I owned would be evidence that I lived in this house, alongside my grandfather and the memories he had before me.

I previously thought that it would be too soon for me to get used to not having Gramps in my life. I was aware of the fact that someday, I'm gonna have to live life alone, perhaps start a new family if I was allowed to. Until now, I still couldn't get used to the foreign feeling of having him gone.

I saw the signs that foreshadowed events of my soon-to-be solitary life, but I thought if I innocently ignored them, they wouldn't happen so soon.

Of course, I knew about his sickness. Despite my intelligence, I tried to keep hoping that he would at least be alive to see me grow into an adult, to send me to college, or even live long enough to see me get married like he did, like my mother did. I noticed the whites in his eyes getting yellower. I noticed his usually tanned skin getting paler and paler.

I saw the bloody handkerchiefs he stuck into jars. Whenever I did the laundry, I took them out of there and removed the stains like it was the most natural thing. I recalled his lessons on stain removal, not just on clothes but on various things such as carpets, rugs, or even curtains. I folded those handkerchiefs like they hadn't been tainted with blood moments ago. I acted like he was still okay, like he was taking care of himself.

But it all backfired in the end.

...

In front of my house stops an opulent car, causing me to immediately straighten up as I freed myself from the thoughts that plagued my mind. I narrowed my eyes suspiciously, my brows twitching when I spotted a man dressed in fine clothing stepping out of the car.

Almost everything about him felt 'out-of-this-world'. His suit was obviously in the style of 18th-19th century European fashion, but it felt somehow modern that he stood out enough to be mistaken for an actor who had the role of a nobleman (the kind you see in anime or in dramas). His hair seemed to shine like specks of gold under the sun. His eyes were just shrouded with mystery, the kind that makes you think he had already seen everything, from the beginning of time up to the day earth is shattered by an asteroid.

To conclude, he looked like a man straight out of a drama, and I never thought I'd live long enough to meet such a person.

I slid my headphones around my neck as he approached me with a gentle smile, the kind that could mean a lot of things other than 'kindness'. I knew he was being genuine with his actions, but it was the constant wariness that I felt around other people that made me think otherwise. Things that don't appear to be what they truly are throw me off, I forgot if I was ever like this before.

He looked human, but he didn't feel like it.

The man crouched in front of me. I was sitting on one of the steps, clutching tightly on the CD player in my hands.

His gaze softens as he speaks, "You must be Gin."

I nod, "Yeah. Are you... Comte?"

I’ve been thinking about posting this for a while now, though I think it will mostly end up being a series of random one-shot stories of my OC interacting with IkeVamp and IkeRev characters. Since Gin is only fifteen (15), her relationship with the ikevamp characters will remain platonic, their interactions are going to be a brother/sister kind of thing.

Such is not the case with the ikerev suitors though. Like I mentioned in the notes, they will be around Gin’s age.

Also, if you still can’t tell, Gin has a type of synesthesia that allows her to see smells or scents as small shapes and colors.

#ikemen vampire #ikemen revolution #ikevamp fanfiction #ikerev fanfiction #ikerev x ikevamp crossover #crossover fanfiction #oc

9 notes · View notes

promosfree576 · 3 years

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Slot Aereo

A leading-edge slot is a fixed aerodynamic feature of the wing of some aircraft to reduce the stall speed and promote good low-speed handling qualities. A leading-edge slot is a spanwise gap in each wing, allowing air to flow from below the wing to its upper surface. In this manner they allow flight at higher angles of attack and thus reduce the stall speed. Slot car race tracks have taken on many forms, branching out from the traditional, fixed, side-by-side tracks. Those are still available and just as much fun as ever, but we’re glad to have so many choices. Out of support for the next generation of car enthusiasts, we’ve searched the toy market and picked five of the best race track sets. Free Slots Games at Slotomania.com - Casino Slot Machines for Everyone The slots machine, often known as the “one armed bandit”, became an icon of modern online gaming. At Slotomania, you can start playing your favorite slot games with crazy graphics, top of the line sound effects, and hundreds of variations to choose from.

Growing tomatoes in your aerogarden. Can it be done? How long will it take? What should you worry about? When do you cut and/or harvest them?

Well, guys like many times before I have done a ton of research, and tried many techniques to come up with the best results for you that I will present in this article.

Growing tomatoes all year long is now a possible mission. With your aerogarden you can have fresh tomatoes even in the winter. The tomato care should be really simple and should not require much maintenance. There are several tomato plants that you can grow, but if you have a small space, then I would recommend that you try cherry tomatoes.

If you want you can go check the latest price of the Red Heirloom cherry tomato seed pod kit on Amazon. Those are smaller tomatoes that will be better for your aerogarden in my opinion. The classical bigger tomatoes are sometimes too heavy and will require support. You can easily stick a wooden stick into the soil next to your plant if you are growing them outside, but with the use of an aerogarden your space is limited.

If you want, you can check my absolute favorite tomato seed pods HERE.

So how do you do it? It’s simple. Here is the whole 9 step process.

Well yes, you can, but if you do that you will have to be careful about spacing. If you have 4 slots in a row, then you would plant tomatoes on the far left slot and the pepper plant on the far right slot or the other way around. If you want you can plant some herbs in the to slots in between. AeroGarden tomatoes growth timeline. Aero Slots is a 5-reel, 5-payline game that takes its inspiration from one of mankind’s greatest achievements – flight.

This step does not include much effort. Just like before planting any other seed, you should clean and sanitize your aerogarden in advance. The only exception would be if you are using a brand new AeroGarden that has never been used before. You can find the whole process of cleaning and sterilizing your aerogarden here. After your system is totally clean, proceed to add water.

Make sure to set the light as close as you can to your system-to the lowest possible. Tomatoes do not need bright light, but they do need at least 16 hours of light per day. So set your timer that the lights will be turned off for 8 hours each day. Remember to move your light hood with the growth of the plant. There should be only about 1 to 2 inches of space between your light and your first tomato leaf.

Tomatoes require a lot of space, so if you are planting them, make sure to leave some space between them. Either don’t use the seed pod slots in between or plant something that requires as little space as possible, like basil. In outdoor gardening, tomatoes grow best in greenhouses, so make sure to put the domes on.

The amount of nutrients needed will vary, based on how many tomato plants you are going to be growing. Read the instructions on the package and follow them. If you have decided to go with nutrient tablets instead of liquid, you should use one tablet for three tomato plants. Both liquid and tablets should last for about two weeks, except if the nutrient reminder is on. Press the reset button every time you add nutrients so that the system will know it is recharged.

When your tomatoes start growing, make sure to remove the domes. When they reach about two inches tall, you should trim off all the weak sprouts from the plant. Be careful not to damage it and if you do it correctly, you should be left with one strong plant.

When your plant gets flowers, then it is time for it to get pollinated. Because your aerogarden is indoors, there probably won’t be any bees to do it for you. There is a way for you to do it on your own. You just shake the plant lightly and also you can blow on it really gently. Remember it does not take a lot to start this.

The right time for pruning would be about four weeks after planting them in your system. Pruning is performed in two steps. The first step requires cutting off the stem a little bit above the first five branches in the bottom. You can do this with regular scissors, just make sure that they are clean beforehand. You can skip this if your tomato already has flowers-blossoms.

All of the branches that are growing outside the light reach must be clipped off. If your light hood is on the highest setting, you have to also clip off the branches that are growing into the lights, so that there is at least a couple of inches of space in between the top branch and the light. The branches and stems that are growing outside the light reach, or are blocking the light will harm your plant. The ones that are outside the light will just be eating the energy without producing any tomatoes. The branches that are growing into the light will block the light itself and prevent the other branches from getting any energy from the light.

Tomatoes are heavy, sometimes too heavy for its branches. This is why you want to a piece of string (the best would be to take a string made of natural materials) and tie the overloaded branch to something. It can either be the lamp arm, or something that you have closest to it. If your branches break while the tomatoes are still green, they will never get red and ripe.

If you want to transplant your tomato plant outside there are a few things you should do first.

Trim your plant as much as you can. In the end, right before transplanting you should only be left with the strongest stem. It should not have any more than 5 small branches growing out of it.

Cut the roots just like you trimmed the upper side of the plant. Make sure you only leave the strongest roots. To get the tomato out of your seed pod you can also use gardening shears. Add water when you are finished with transplanting.

The tomato plant is going to grow the best at a temperature of about 75 degrees Fahrenheit or 24 degrees Celsius.

First of all, you are going to need a large pot. You will have to fill it up with soil and make a hole in the middle for your plant to go inside. When you are filling your pot with soil, fill just ¾ of it. It would best to use pre fertilized soil.

Second, you take out your plants. If you can, try to just pull them out of your grow baskets. This way you will be able to reuse them later. Wiggle them around for a bit and pull them off. If you have to trim the roots a bit, that is fine. Just make sure to also cut some branches if you have cut roots beforehand. This way the roots are still going to provide enough food for the whole plant.

If you did not succeed at preserving the grow basket, feel free to cut it. You can use ordinary scissors or gardening shears, but please be very careful. Plastic can be tricky to cut. You can compost any roots that you have cut off.

Plant your seedling in your soil-filled pot. It is always better to plant it deeper. After that fill the remaining space of the pot with soil. When your pot is full, at least one inch of the stem should be in the soil.

Once your tomato plant is in a pot you can now move it around. On the first day of transplanting you should put the tomato plant outside on sunlight for about 3 hours, the next day 5, and the next 7.. and so on until you have your plant outside 24 hours a day. This is when your plant is ready to be transplanted again, but this time it is going to be in your garden. If you want you can also leave your plant in the pot.

Tomato plant requires a lot of water so check on it daily to see if you have to add any. Also, keep in mind that tomatoes that will grow on it will get kind of heavy so support the branches. You can do this by sticking a wooden stick next to the plant and tie the branch that needs support to it.

It has been stated by the producer, that tomatoes, like other veggies, will last up to 6 months, which means that you will be able to harvest them for about 4 months. I, on the other hand, had some better results. My tomato plant has lived for 371 days. Yes, I have had a tomato plant in my kitchen for more than a year. I had to wait 2 months for the first harvest, but still, that left me with 10 months of harvesting small cherry tomatoes.

How to pick AeroGarden tomatoes?

You can pick them by holding them with 2 fingers and gently pulling them or twisting them. If you apply too much force you might end up breaking a whole branch off and with that, you destroy all the remaining tomatoes on it that are still green.

I would recommend that you get a bigger model if you are going to plant this seed. Keep in mind that they require a lot of space. You always have to leave at least one slot free between the larger plants. So my choice would be the farm model because of its huge capacity. The middle size models should be just as fine, but you won’t be able to grow as many at one time. If you own the Herbie model, then I would recommend planting something else like herbs.

Yes. You can mix them with some other pods but not all of them. The plants that would go best with tomatoes are definitely herbs. It is a great combination. Can you imagine eating pasta with homegrown tomatoes and basil? Or maybe some dill or parsley. Since you have to leave at least one slot free between the plants it would be smart to fill them up with something else that does not require a lot of space.

Week 1: The phase of Germination

This week is going to be a little bit tricky when you are planting tomato pods. You are going to have to make sure that the temperature is the best for the seed itself. Whenever you are adding water to your AeroGarden, please make sure that it is at room temperature-about 75 degrees Fahrenheit and add the recommended amount of plant food (nutrients) to get the most tomato-friendly growth environment. If you do not provide all of the above, you will probably have little to no success with your grow project.

Week 2: The phase of germination goes on

You are going to have to clip off the smallest of your sprouts. This is for ensuring your plant to make the most yields possible. I highly recommend that you prune your plant early so that your tomato can get the most energy possible. After that, you should see some sprouting happening. When it does, at about one inch, you should check every seed pod that you have. If the seed pod contains more than one tomato plant, you should clip the rest of them off using scissors. Always leave only the biggest plant and also make sure that it looks healthy. If not, you should cut it and leave the biggest healthy-looking one. You should give your plant about 3 weeks to sprout. If it does not, then your seed pod might be faulty.

Week 3&4: The last week of germination

This week you can just sit back and enjoy. Only make sure to add room temperature water and nutrients as needed. By now your plants are still too young to be pruned. You can take some photos of your seed pods every week, to see what the progress is and how well you are doing compared to other tomatoes that you can find online.

Week 5: Mid-Growth phase

Now is finally the time to clip the main stem. You should do this just above the sixth branch, that way you will strengthen the main stem, which is the most important for the plant itself. Keep in mind to support it if needed. This process will also make your plant produce the most blooms possible. If your plant has more blooms, it will pollinate much easier than with a lesser amount. If your main stem is strong enough, it might not need any support at all, but make sure to check on it frequently as your tomatoes start growing.

Week 6: The mid growth phase continues

This week, you will probably have to prune some of your branches. Prune the ones that are growing outside your light reach, because they will not produce any fruit and will only eat the food and take energy from the plant itself. Cut the branches where they meet other branches. This will probably take you about 10 minutes in total. And by now you should already wonder how tasty your tomatoes will be, right?

Week 7: Here they come!

By now (and also a bit earlier) there should be small yellow flowers on your plant. If they were pollinated, they will develop into small tomatoes. If not they will fall off and produce nothing. The tomato plant is one of the most strict plants when it comes to pollination. If the flowers missed it, they will be useless. If you are growing tomatoes outside you do not have to worry, because the pollination will be done by mainly wind or bees and on some occasions some other insects. We recommend that you try to pollinate your plant on a daily basis, but make sure to always have the AeroGarden lights on when you are doing it.

Week 8: The finish line

On week 8 your flowers should slowly start transforming into fruits. If they failed to do so, make sure to give them just a couple more days. But if your plant did not get any flowers by now, maybe it would be the right time to request a refund on them. Oh, and I almost forgot-keep pollinating them!

Week 9: Taste test-Hooray!

If you have followed all of the steps correctly, then you should by now be eating your fresh tomatoes. Do not use much force when you are harvesting your plant. Keep in mind that tomatoes are very sensitive to touch. Once I used too much force and broke one branch, that had about 5 tomatoes on it that will never ripen. Bon appetite!

Because tomatoes are one of the longest-lasting plants, your water might get really dirty. I personally would recommend that you change out the water in your system at least every 6 months. The ideal number is about 4 and a half months. When you are letting the water out you can also use that opportunity to clean your system a bit. Yo do not have to sanitize it, just make sure to clean it a little bit with a paper towel. If you lifted your lid, now would also be the perfect time to clip off some of the dead roots but only if there are any. If all of your roots look healthy, do not remove any of them. Clipping off the extra roots will take place when (and only if) you will decide to transplant your tomato seed pod outside.

Tomatoes can be grown in an aerogarden, but if you have a smaller model then I would recommend going with the smaller cherry tomato seed pod kit. The best one that I have tried is without a doubt Red Heirloom. You really want to take care of your plant and prune it for the best possible results. If you do, you can make your seed pods last even more than six months! There have been reports on amazon reviews saying that some tomatoes have lasted more than 210 days (7 months) and by the time this review was written the plant itself was still alive and kicking with more than 50 cherry tomatoes on it. Personally, the best I have achieved is exactly 371 days (12 months) but then I have decided to switch and try something new. And the taste? Those had to be one of the most delicious tomatoes I have ever tasted in my life. The best plants to go on your platform next to tomatoes are definitely herbs. You can try other plants too, but since this plant takes up so much space that you have to leave some slots free it would be smart to fill them up with something that will be able to grow in such a small space. Transplanting the plant will take you some time but will be worth it. The space in your system is limited but in your garden, there will be much more space for growth hence more fruit for your meals.

If you try this out please let me know how it worked out and what did they taste like in the comments!

Slots aéreos. Un desafío para las líneas aéreas

Dra. Mirtha Cantiano

Los slots aéreos son un verdadero problema para las líneas aéreas, ya que todas desean las mejores franjas horarias y sobre todo la titularidad de un derecho para ellas imprescindible, pero el cual no es a perpetuidad; es por ello que las reglamentaciones existentes han tratado de poner orden en este tema, aunque solamente la jurisprudencia tendrá la última palabra.

Aeropuertos coordinados y la titularidad de los derechos: en los aeropuertos puede ocurrir que existan problemas de capacidad para algún período de programación y esto obliga al Estado, en virtud de la normativa existente en Europa, a designar al aeropuerto como coordinado. Esto último implica que los slots sólo serán asignados por el coordinador del aeropuerto.

I. Definición(arriba)

SLOTS es un concepto que significa intervalo de tiempo, por lo general limitado, dentro del cual un avión tiene la obligación de transitar sobre un determinado punto(1).

Pero como dice FRANCO STACCIOLI, el slot aeroportuale representa la ventana de tiempo que un determinado vuelo tiene a su disposición en un aeropuerto para satisfacer sus exigencias comerciales (embarco y desembarco de pasajeros y equipaje, carga de combustible, catering, etc. ).

II. Los Slots y la Comunidad Europea(arriba)

Podemos decir que para que los aviones de las distintas empresas aéreas puedan aterrizar o despegar de los aeropuertos en una franja determinada de tiempo, necesitan un permiso que se denomina slot o franja horaria aeroportuaria(2).

Existe un sistema de estandarización mundial en cuanto a la forma en que dichos derechos son reconocidos por la normativa nacional y europea; se siguen los criterios de la IATA (Internacional Air Transport Association). En la Comunidad Europea podemos encontrar la regulación de las franjas horarias en el Reglamento 95/93 del Consejo, del 18 de enero de 1993, el cual ha sufrido varias modificaciones, la más importante a través del Reglamento (CEE) 793/2004(3).

Cuando no existen inconvenientes para acceder a dichos derechos y las empresas aéreas pueden obtenerlos en virtud de sus preferencias, el sistema se caracteriza por la voluntariedad o autorregulación. En el caso de existir dificultades la normativa comunitaria sigue las directrices de la IATA, teniendo en cuenta la facilitación de horarios y la coordinación(4). Esto nos lleva al concepto de aeropuerto coordinado y no coordinado. El aeropuerto coordinado es: “…un aeropuerto en el cual para aterrizar y o decolar es necesario la existencia de un vettore aéreo u otro operador de aeronaves que haya obtenido la asignación de una banda horaria de parte de un coordinador”(5).

El principio de uso o pérdida de este derecho significa que una empresa aérea puede conservar sus franjas horarias de una temporada a otra, a condición de que haya hecho uso de al menos el 80% de las franjas asignadas en la temporada anterior. Aunque existen excepciones como lo ocurrido en los años 2001-2002, 2003(6) en dichos períodos se permitió a las líneas aéreas reducir su actividad sin perder sus franjas horarias(7).

Un aeropuerto con horarios facilitados son aquellos aeropuertos en los cuales existe un riesgo de congestión en algunos períodos del día, de la semana o del año, lo cual puede resolverse eventualmente gracias a la cooperación voluntaria de vectores aéreos y en los cuales se ha designado un facilitador de los horarios, cuyo deber es facilitar la actividad de los vectores aéreos que operan o intentan operar en tales aeropuertos(8).

Cuando nos referimos a aeropuertos con horarios facilitados debemos tener en cuenta las dificultades que provoca la congestión aeroportuaria en ciertas horas del día, de la semana o del año. Los mismos pueden reducirse en virtud de acuerdos voluntarios entre las empresas bajo la supervisión del facilitador.

En Italia se fundó en el año 1997, la Associazione Assoclearance, que es la encargada de coordinar la asignación de las bandas horarias en los aeropuertos italianos coordinados. La asignación permite al vector utilizar la infraestructura a fin de aterrizar o decolar por un período por el cual se lo ha solicitado.

El Ministerio de Infraestructura y del Transporte ha clasificado como aeropuertos coordinados las escalas de: Bergamo, Cagliari, Catania, Firenze, Milano-Malpensa, Milano-Linate, Napoli, Palermo, Roma Ciampino, Roma Fiumicino, Torino, Venecia, Lampeduza y Pantelleria solamente en período estival. Como aeropuertos de horarios facilitados, las escalas de Bolonia, Pisa y Verona.

III. Aeropuertos coordinados y la titularidad de los derechos(arriba)

En los aeropuertos puede ocurrir que existan problemas de capacidad para algún período de programación; esto obliga al Estado Miembro en virtud de la normativa existente a designar al aeropuerto como coordinado. Esto último implica que los slots sólo serán asignados por el coordinador del aeropuerto(9). Pero es cada Estado Miembro quien establecerá la asignación de los parámetros de coordinación. Para ello el art. 6 del Reglamento mencionado es muy claro al referirse a dichos parámetros como: “la expresión en términos operativos de toda la capacidad disponible en un aeropuerto para asignarla en franjas durante cada período de coordinación, que reflejará todos los factores técnicos y operativos y medioambientales que influyen en el funcionamiento de la infraestructura aeroportuaria y de sus subsistemas”(10).

En este punto es necesario introducir otro concepto que es el de las franjas horarias; estas son un mínimo de cinco franjas solicitadas para un período de programación a la misma hora, por lo general el mismo día de la semana y asignada de esa manera si esto no es posible, lo más cercano a la misma hora(11). Es decir, la capacidad de un aeropuerto se asigna en franjas horarias.

El problema se plantea cuando las empresas aéreas consideran que esto no es un derecho sino una propiedad, es así como muchas de ellas incluyen los slots dentro de su balance comercial como verdaderos activos. Es verdad que las empresas pueden intercambiarse estos derechos pero no son derechos de propiedad, así lo ha establecido el Reglamento (CE) 793/2004; son derechos otorgados por el poder público. El presente Reglamento así lo establece: “…permiso dado por un coordinador de conformidad con el presente Reglamento para utilizar toda la infraestructura aeroportuaria necesarias con fines de aterrizaje y despegue en una fecha y hora determinada asignadas por un coordinador de conformidad con el presente Reglamento para la prestación de un servicio aéreo en un aeropuerto coordinado”(12).

El problema subsiste y subsistirá en la medida en que los slots sean considerados por la empresas aéreas como una manifestación del derecho de acceso a una instalación como es el aeropuerto. VILLAR ROJAS es muy didáctico al decir que: “…una instalación o una infraestructura sin la cual las empresas de la competencia no podrían ejercer sus servicios al público”(13) generando una situación de dependencia económica que puede oponerse a todo tipo de competencia efectiva(14).

Es necesario resaltar que sin slots no hay mercado aéreo, ya que su existencia es imposible de imaginar. Las empresas aéreas precisan de estos derechos de aterrizaje y despegue para suministrar sus servicios.

El artículo 10 del Reglamento (CE) 95/93 regula el fondo de reserva de franjas horarias; el mismo fue reformado en el año 2009 con la finalidad de que las empresas aéreas pudieran reducir su capacidad y mantener sus derechos de despegue y aterrizaje. Esta medida fue aprobada por vía de urgencia ya que la idea era disminuir los efectos de la crisis económica sobre el transporte aéreo.

En España, el régimen sancionador era regulado por el Real Decreto-ley 15/2001, de 2 de noviembre, que concretamente regulaba el régimen sancionador en materia de slots, pero esta normativa fue derogada y sustituida por la efectuada mediante la Ley 21/2003 del 8 de julio de Seguridad Aérea. El artículo 49 de dicha Ley tipifica las infracciones en relación con la coordinación de los aeropuertos y el uso de las franjas horarias.

Otro elemento a tener en cuenta es que en la Unión Europea las regulaciones sobre los slots facilitan a los estados miembros la posibilidad de reservar estos derechos beneficiando algunas empresas aéreas en el caso de existir rutas sometidas a obligaciones de servicio público. El artículo 9 del Reglamento 95/93 prevé la posibilidad de reservar slots para esas rutas. Es por ello que “…Con arreglo al artículo 9 del Reglamento (CE) 95/93 del Consejo, de 18 de enero de 1993 relativo a las normas comunes para la asignación de franjas horarias aeroportuarias en los aeropuertos comunitarios, modificado por el Reglamento (CE) 793/2004 del Parlamento Europeo y del Consejo, los organismos competentes podrán reservar franjas horarias para la prestación de los servicios conforme a las modalidades previstas en el presente documento”(15).

En otros casos se solicita los derechos del coordinador y se establece que el cumplimiento de los horarios será bajo la condición de que pueda disponerse de las franjas horarias correspondientes(16). Recordemos que el Reglamento (CEE) 2408/92 fue derogado y sustituido por el Reglamento (CE) 1008/2008. Por consiguiente es necesario concluir que el sistema de imposición del servicio público en una ruta aérea está sujeto a un elemento operativo relacionado con el funcionamiento del aeropuerto y a un elemento técnico que sin lugar a dudas puede llegar a destruir la valoración de necesidad que debe realizarse.

IV. La lucha por la obtención de los slots aéreos(arriba)

Conforme a lo precedentemente expresado en párrafos anteriores, arribamos al problema que se suscita si dos o más empresas aéreas desean prestar servicios en una determinada ruta sometida a obligaciones de servicio público, pero no existen slots suficientes. En este caso el artículo 9.2 del Reglamento (CE) 95/93, resuelve este conflicto de la siguiente manera:

“…En caso de que más de una compañía aérea comunitaria esté interesada en prestar servicios en dicha ruta aérea (sometida a obligaciones de servicio público) y no haya podido obtener franjas horarias situadas dentro de un margen de una hora antes o después de los horarios solicitados al coordinador, se recurrirá a los procedimientos de licitación establecidos en las letras d) a g) y en la letra i) del apartado 1 del artículo 4 del Reglamento (CEE), n· 2408/92 para la utilización de las franjas horarias mencionadas en el apartado 1”.

Pero las obligaciones del servicio público también afectan al funcionamiento del fondo de reserva, como ya hemos dicho en párrafos anteriores; el transportista aéreo debe utilizar esos derechos de slots en su totalidad o por lo menos en un 80% para que se le puedan asignar en la temporada siguiente. De lo contrario, perderá las franjas horarias para la siguiente temporada, éstas ingresarán en un fondo de reserva, y serán asignadas a los operadores que la soliciten.

Pero el Reglamento(17) establece ciertas causas que pueden ser interpuestas a fin de que este hecho no ocurra y el transportista pueda conservar las franjas horarias. Estas causas son denominadas circunstancias imprevisibles e inevitables, que impiden efectuar sus operaciones. Las mismas pueden ser: mal funcionamiento del aeropuerto, cierre del espacio aéreo, alteraciones graves que inciden de un aeropuerto a otro, situaciones de paralización de las operaciones producidas por una huelga, etc.

La Reforma del Reglamento (CE) 95/93, llevada a cabo a través del Reglamento (CE) 793/2004 introdujo una nueva causa relacionada con las obligaciones de servicio público, afectando a la existencia de acciones judiciales. Esta causa implica la aplicación del artículo 9, el cual prevé la reserva de franjas horarias en aeropuertos coordinados para rutas de servicio público que impliquen una suspensión temporal de las operaciones en esta ruta. Es la postura expresada a través de la Posición Común n· 22/2004, de 19 de febrero de 2004, y en cuanto a los elementos necesarios para su aplicación encontramos: la existencia de un proceso judicial; el objeto de dicho proceso debe versar sobre el artículo 9 del Reglamento (CE) 95/93, es decir la asignación indebida de dichos derechos por parte del coordinador a favor de alguna compañía aérea en contra de los intereses de otra; la falta de uso es la que debe haber dado lugar al proceso.

En conclusión, como podemos observar el problema de los slots aéreos es de suma importancia para las líneas aéreas, elemento esencial para su desarrollo comercial. En cuanto a la lucha por estos derechos podemos decir que esta es una cuestión que sólo la jurisprudencia podrá dilucidar, pero no obstante el Reglamento permite al operador aéreo defenderse basándose en causas de justificación que el mismo Reglamento establece y conservar así el derecho a las franjas horarias asignadas con anterioridad.

BIBLIOGRAFIA

- AMEDEO ODONI, et.al. The global airline industry, Oxford, Wiley, 2009.

- Circular ENAC EAL 18, del 24 de agosto de 2009, sobre la Asignación de bandas horarias en los aeropuertos nacionales coordinados.

- CZERNY I. Airport slots, London, Scholars Press, 2008.

- CODICE DELLA NAVEGAZIONE ITALIANO, RD. 30 de marzo 1942, n. 327, aggiornato alla legge 26 febbraio 2010, n. 25.

- GONZALEZ SANFIEL A., Las obligaciones del servicio público en el transporte aéreo, Madrid, Lustel, 2010.

Slot Aroma

- MARTÍN D. et.al., Orientación al mercado en los sistemas de gestión de las empresas de transporte aéreo, Madrid, Editorial Universitaria Ramón Areces, 2005.

- OFICINA DE PUBLICACIONES DE LAS COMUNIDADES EUROPEAS, Acuerdos aéreos internacionales, Luxemburgo, 2004.

- REGLAMENTO (CE) n. 545/2009, del Parlamento Europeo y del Consejo del 18 de junio de 2009, el cual modifica el Reglamento (CEE) n. 95/93 referente a las normas comunes para la asignación de bandas horarias en los aeropuertos de la Comunidad Europea.

- REGLAMENTO (CE), n.793/2004, del Parlamento Europeo y del Consejo del 21 de abril de 2004 que modifica el Reglamento (CEE) n. 95/93 del Consejo del 18 de enero de 1993, relativas a normas comunes para la asignación de bandas horarias en los aeropuertos de la Comunidad Europea.

- REGLAMENTO (CE) n. 95/93, del Consejo de 18 de enero de 1993 referente a las normas comunes para la asignación de bandas horarias en los aeropuertos de la Comunidad Europea.

- SILINGARDI, GABRIELE, Gli slots, il caso Italia fra esperienza statiunitense e comunitaria, Milano, Cedam, 1997.

- TRUYOL MATEU S., Transporte aéreo e ingeniería aeroportuaria, Madrid , Delta, 2006.

- VILLAR ROJAS F., Las instalaciones esenciales para la competencia, Granada, Editorial Comares, 2004.

Slot Airplanes

------------------------------------------------------- (1) RIZZARDO TREBBI, DIZIONARIO AERONAUTICO, Torino, Ceedam, 1994, p. 23. (2) M. GOMEZ PUENTE, La coordinación aeroportuaria: naturaleza y régimen jurídico de las franjas horarias (slots), en Régimen Jurídico del transporte aéreo, Dialnet, 2005, p.443. (3) DOUE, 30 de abril de 2004. (4) REGLAMENTO (CE), 95/93. (5) ENAC, ENTE NAZIONALES PER DELL’AVIAZIONE CIVILE. (6) La Comisión Europea, ha propuesto una congelación temporal de esta regla durante la temporada de verano 2009, de abril a octubre. Bruselas ha decidido en virtud de la crisis prorrogarla durante la campaña de invierno 2009-2010, pudiendo decidir una eventual prórroga. (7) Asesoría de compañías españolas de transporte aéreo, Al Vuelo (Boletín Interno), Asesoría de Comunicación n. 51 abril 2009. (8) ENAC, cit. (9) Artículo 3.3. y 4.5 del Reglamento (CE) 95/93. (10) Artículo 2, letra K) del Reglamento (CE) 95/96. (11) Artículo 8 del Reglamento (CE) 95/96. (12) Artículo 2, letra a) del Reglamento (CE) 95/93, modificado por el Reglamento (CE) 793/2004. (13) F. VILLAR ROJAS, Las instalaciones esenciales para la competencia, Granada, 2004. (14) Sentencia del Tribunal de Justicia de 6 de abril de 1995 (Caso Magill) apartado 24. (15) Comunicación de la Comisión sobre imposición por Italia de obligaciones de servicio público a los servicios aéreos regulares interiores (2007/C 228/04) en la ruta aérea Cuneo Levaldigi-Roma Fumicino y viceversa, DOUE de 28 de septiembre de 2007. (16) Comunicación de la Comisión, relativa a la imposición de obligaciones de servicio público con arreglo al Reglamento (CEE) 2408/92 del Consejos en relación a servicios aéreos regulares dentro de Alemania (2007/C 149/07), ruta aérea Erfurt – Munich, DOUE de 3 de julio de 2007. (17) Artículo 10.4 del Reglamento (CE) 95/93.

Slot Acronym

Slot Air Diffuser

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gripefroot · 3 years

Text

Wrapped

Time is against him.

Bucky’s heart is racing out of his chest as he fumbles behind boxes and tubs. His haste makes him clumsy; a tower of tissue boxes falls to the ground, and he bites back a curse. Any second now he’s expecting to hear footsteps on the landing, a key in the door. He can’t get caught. If he does, he’s toast.

But what he’s looking for isn’t there.

As far as missions go, this one's a bust. He’s looked in every room so far; driven to such desperation that he’d even climbed into the crawl space attic. But nothing. Bucky’s getting frantic. Time is running out.

Thump, thump, thump.

Shoot. He knows that tread. Bucky scrabbles around for the boxes, stacking them back up in a mad hurry as he hears the clinking of keys. Get out, Barnes; get out get out get out -

The door opens. Bucky whirls around, shutting the hallway closet door shut behind him as his heart nearly stops beating at the sight of you. Scarf loose around your neck, coat unbuttoned. And brow arched, eyes twinkling. Slowly you kick the door shut behind you, a feral grin crawling up your lips as Bucky licks his own, throat suddenly very, very dry.

“I’ll just pretend like you weren’t just going through my closet looking for your present, shall I?”

Bucky blinks. His legs have gone numb entirely, and his flesh hand pressed to the door behind him is sweating. “Uhh…”

Without looking away from him, you casually shrug off your outerwear, hooking it behind the front door as you brush the snow off your boots. That you’re still smiling unnerves Bucky to no end. Partially because he can’t stand waiting for the hammer to drop, partially because his own curiosity is gnawing at him mercilessly from the inside, he chokes out,

“Aren’t - aren’t you mad? At me?”

You blink back, lips twitching in obvious amusement. “Mad?”

“For - um, going through your things.” Bucky nearly facepalms himself. It’s bad enough without reminding you what exactly he was doing. His face feels very hot, and as you step into the hallway, still smiling, he wonders if his knees are going to give out. You stop a hair’s breadth away from his chest, and Bucky sucks in a tremulous breath.

“I wouldn’t have left you here alone if I thought for a minute that you were capable of finding something that I’ve hidden,” you say in a soft voice, and Bucky blinks. Again.

“Wh - what?”

Now laughing a little, you reach forward to grasp Bucky’s wrists, pulling him stiffly away from the closet door. “Steve warned me about you,” you tell Bucky severely. “I can’t believe you went through his mom’s dresser to find your own present when you were eleven. If you were like, six, I might understand - but that’s pretty low, Buck. Even for a preteen.”

“Ha, ha.” Bucky senses that he’s made himself the butt of a very old joke - and rolling his eyes, he allows you to lead him out of the hallway and into the brightly lit and festive living room.

“Anyway, what makes you think I even got you a gift?” you ask, eyes glittering daringly as you sink onto the couch, patting a cushion beside you. Bucky sinks down. “Aren’t I present enough for you?” you tease.

“You’d like to think that, wouldn’t you,” Bucky snarks back, and he reaches up to tap the tip of your nose, which you scrunch.

“I do think that. Because it’s true.”

He chuckles, because he can’t really deny it.

“So . . . while we're on the topic,” you say, walking your fingers up his chest. “What’d you get me?”

“Excuse me?” Bucky says, laughing. “You think I’m just gonna tell you? After all the grief you just gave me?”

You shrug. “It’s easier than searching.”

“In your dreams, babe. My lips are sealed.”

That wild grin - that smile that Bucky adores with every fiber of his being - forms again on your face. Swallowing thickly, he can do little more than stare as you throw a leg over his, pulling yourself into his lap sleekly. Now both of your hands are on his chest. You can probably feel how frantic his heartbeat is. That’s leverage that Bucky rather wishes you didn’t have. He stares up at you, drinking in the sight of your mischievous eyes.

“Hon, I know how to make a man talk. With implements of coercion, or without.” Your sweet, warm breath tickles his face. Bucky swallows again.

“Yeah? And I know how to resist torture,” he says. It’s a blatant lie. Out of all the skills he learned willingly or unwillingly, that hadn’t been one of them. Idly Bucky wonders why - and then figures that’s because Hydra would rather see him dead than in danger of sharing their secrets.

“Hey,” you say softly, tilting his chin up with one hand. He blinks.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Your fingers trace the planes of his face, and Bucky lets the delicious sensation sink into his bones. Closing his eyes briefly, the memory of Hydra fades away as quickly as it came. He lets himself smile, and opens his eyes again.

“I have good news,” you say.

“Oh?”

“Director Fury just gave me a mission. I’ll be in DC over the holiday weekend - leaving tomorrow - which means you can open your present now, or wait until New Year’s.”

“Good...news?” Bucky frowns. To be away from you for the next week? That’s the worst news he’s heard all day.

“Good news for your impatience,” you clarify with a laugh.

“What’s in DC?”

“White House Holiday Gala.”

“Oof. Glad I didn’t get picked for that one.”

With a smirk, you coo, “Why not, Bucky? You and I have had some good times sneaking out of parties…”

A hundred images flash in his mind. Eyes widening and throat suddenly very dry, Bucky stammers, “O - oh, I hadn’t thought of it that way…”

Still laughing, you press a quick kiss to his lips before climbing off his lap. “I’ll go get your present. Don’t follow me - ” you add quickly with a wag of a finger, as Bucky starts to rise from the couch. “ - I want to keep my hiding place for next year.”

Next year. A beautiful smile creeps up his lips, and Bucky sinks back into his seat with a contented sigh.

“Whatever it is, can’t be as bad as Sam’s,” he calls out, listening vaguely to quiet noises you’re making. “I found his stash of presents under his bed. He’s getting me car rim polish and a buffering rag.”

A laugh rings down the hall. “Well, that’s very practical of Sam.”

“I don’t think he was thinking of practicality.”

“Fair.” Your voice comes closer, and Bucky peeks open an eye as you wander into the living room, package in hand. It’s brightly wrapped with a red bow, and he can’t help but stare beadily as you sit down beside him.

Bucky hates waiting for presents. He always has. He could sniff out a Christmas present six months early in his parents’ house growing up. Steve knows this. And Steve had told you. And you’re giving your gift to him early.

Gosh, he loves you.

With a beaming smile, you lay the package in Bucky’s eager hands. He opens his mouth to speak, but then ruefully says, “I didn’t bring yours.”

“Well, I can wait,” you tease. “Patience is a great asset to a secret agent, you know.”

“You saying I’m a bad agent?”

“You only hear what you want to hear, as always. Just open the present, Bucky.”

He slides his fingers skillfully beneath the tape. He doesn’t dare tear the paper - he can hear his ma’s voice in his head, Don’t waste paper, James! We have to use that for next year.

A box. Carefully laying the intact paper aside (and pointedly ignoring your look), Bucky lifts off the lid off of the box. And starts laughing.

“You can’t be serious.”

“I’m very serious, excuse me.” The indignity in your tone only makes him laugh harder. From the box he lifts out a torn thigh holster. He recognizes it. In fact, Bucky remembers the precise mission that had been its last.

“This is a treasure,” he says solemnly to you, though he can’t quite prevent the grin on his face. “Why isn’t it framed?”

“Because it’s not your real present, you goof. Look again.”

Bucky lays the holster aside, still smiling. “It’s more than I ever wished for, I promise.”

“I know.” Your smug little smirk makes his heart stutter a little bit. But it’s time to focus - he reaches in the box again, and pulls out, to his bafflement, a little book.

“What’s this?” It looks almost like a scrapbook. Bucky opens the cover with a curious frown. On the first page is a yellowed newspaper clipping. The blaring headline: CAPTAIN AMERICA AND HIS HOWLING COMMANDOS DESTROY NAZI BASE IN OSTRAVA. The black and white picture underneath is both startlingly familiar and foreign at the same time. He hadn’t seen this picture of his old friends in over seventy years.

Still baffled. Bucky looks up at your expectant face. The smile curling your lips is shy now. A little hesitant. As if he’s ever seen you shy before.

“Steve helped,” you supply. “You can keep looking.”

Bucky obeys, flipping through as more headlines leap out at him. BARNES GIVEN PURPLE HEART FOLLOWING DEATH FOR COURAGEOUS EFFORTS ALONGSIDE CAPTAIN AMERICA ON EUROPEAN FRONT. FORMER HYDRA ASSASSIN DEFUNKS SIBERIAN BASE. WWII HERO SAVES FAMILY FROM TERRORIST BOMB IN MYANMAR.

“What…”

“Sometimes you forget that you’re a hero,” you tell him. “This is just to remind you.”

His heart squeezes painfully in his chest, stopping on a page that reads, WINTER SOLDIER EXONERATED; STARK SAYS ‘HE DESERVES TO BE RECOGNIZED AS A HERO’. Bucky hasn’t given much time or thought to newspapers or whatever else has been written about him. He’d figured it was all negative. Tracing the words with a metal finger, his brows pinch in a frown.

“You could fill a bigger book than this with my crimes,” he says roughly.

“Hydra’s crimes,” you correct him. “And we won’t, because that ain’t gonna help. Don’t be silly, Bucky. You are a hero, and you shouldn’t forget it.”

Glancing up, he sees the look in your eyes. Tough, unyielding, and completely soft. He knows that look. And he’s never been more grateful for it.

“Well, thank you,” Bucky says, a little quietly as he closes the book. “That...I mean…”

“You don’t have to say anything.” You scoot closer to him on the couch, and he wraps an arm around your shoulders to pull you in for a quick kiss. “I know you like it, Buck,” you say, smiling up at him. “You’d like anything from me. Even arm polish.”

Bucky chortles. “Only if you agree to do the polishing.”

“That can be arranged.”

The book is forgotten on the table as his arm tightens around you, pressing a firmer and much more thorough kiss on your delectable lips. The little moan that vibrates in your throat as he tangles his fingers in your hair makes his skin tingle.

You pull away, your voice thick and husky. “I can think of a good gift to hold me over until I get back,” you say. Bucky grins.

“Oh?”

0 notes

violetsystems · 5 years

Text

#personal

I woke up to a bag of purple wandering jew clippings on my doorstep from my neighbor. I assume it’s the older lady next store who only speaks Spanish. I was given some green clippings years ago that finally died off last spring. I spent the whole winter maintaining those clippings in a haphazardly way. On my block a lot of people have outdoor gardens. My neighbors across the way has an entire plot in their back yard. I was walking home from the bus at three thirty in the morning. The bus was delayed thirty minutes because of an SQL error. It was dead quiet and peaceful. Coming back from New York on these trips has become sort of automatic. I’ve stuck to the same schedule for predictability’s sake. This is mostly because I travel alone. I travelled out there on my birthday this year during fashion week back in February. I guess this marks my fifth time out there this year traveling alone. I started thinking about the rhythm of it and why I even continue to go. If anything five trips later things are still a little bumpy. Traveling by nature is turbulent at best. Which is why when you come home to your neighborhood it is nice to feel rooted. Even if it’s the literal feeling of potting plants on three hours of sleep at eight in the morning. When I think of being alone it is mostly because I feel exhausted by other people’s demands. Some of these demands can be almost subliminal and others can be a little more manipulative than that. We all live on a planet with shrinking resources and space. Planting and gardening is a pretty stark reminder of that. We are also not on this planet forever. The TSA agent reminded me that when he commented on my passport photo. I thought he was telling me I looked older in my photo than I did in real life. Everybody on here knows I’m old as fuck. Old enough to travel alone and write about it. Not well respected enough to be paid or reimbursed for my time. But still I look like a Swedish gang member in that photo with a shaved head and a swollen jawline. I don’t know that traveling is all about monetizing for me. These days people smile at me more often when I travel. That’s a payoff in confidence. Like I’m a pleasant person to encounter in all this mess or something. I do work very hard on it. I pretty much was contacted every single day on my vacation about job related stuff. I am also on call and on salary. How you define all of that is easier to do when you are alone. For me it simply means I can take off to New York on a moment’s notice if need be. I’d find a way. I’ve been wandering for ages at this point. Wandering out of the country alone isn’t quite safe for me anymore. Which must say quite a lot about my place in New York and Chicago if I jump back and forth without blinking. Regardless of how much gets in the way.

I take the Ashland bus a little before four am to the airport. Sometimes my neighbors are on that bus going to work. Riding the bus for me is a package deal when it comes to my love for public transit. It can be an adventure. Some people pay forty times the bus fare to get to the airport. Some people don’t feel safe walking alone. It certainly varies when you come from a position of privilege I agree. But logistically speaking I walk with Chicago in some pretty rough spots. My reputation does follow me around a lot. I don’t quite understand what my reputation is with certain people. There’s quite of a lot of assumptions I’ve experienced in my days on Earth. This particular cycle I feel much more connected to the real world than what I see on the news. Gun violence is a reality in Chicago. If you don’t know someone affected by it you are probably ignoring large portions of the city. We’ve had shootings on our block. In certain communities, guns are the only protection you have when you can’t trust the police. I’m a conscientious objector on file. This extends from war to guns. I hate guns. I hate war. In footwork music over the years I’ve seen a lot of great people die from guns. You don’t give people an outlet to settle their differences and a chance for fairness and these things will happen. Chicago has a horrible history of police brutality and systemic racism in the justice system as recent as Laquan McDonald. If you drill down deep enough into Chicago the politics are far more of a vortex on a local level than internationally. We’re all tired of the talk from the people who do absolutely nothing to fix the problem other than talk. What ends up getting us by is a progressive identity as a city. We have the first woman of color mayor who also identifies as a member of the LGBTQ community. This is to say that some of us allies out here know our place. I support this kind of movement forward and all the tolerance that comes therein. The theme of 2019 in Chicago is power and how we share it. These days it is quite evident that money trumps everything. It seems like if you have enough money you can operate on your own rules. Corporations often act like people swirling around you like a hive mind. This is what I get for living in a capitalist country. For the record, I am nowhere near communist. There is a socialist center on our block. These days I can fully admit to being the worst kind of anarchist out there. One that knows better than to fuck with the flow especially when it’s out of my own checking accounts. There’s two now officially. I can pay my rent with checks from NASA. There’s a different little space motif on each one. If there’s one thing I know a lot about it’s space. How to give it. How to take it. How mosh within it. And how to hurt somebody’s feelings if they get too close for comfort.

If you ask me what I’m doing with my life these days you probably wouldn’t ask. Nobody ever does. Nobody texts me to see if I’m in New York. I call my parents and let them know I’m safe. Safe away from people’s outrageous expectations for me. I flew out to New York on my birthday alone. I was trying to prove a point to myself. Who cares and who doesn’t. It’s great intel if you want to live your life in a space where you are appreciated. I meet a lot of friendly people while traveling. People who just smile and accept you for who you are if you are nice and polite. My block is a lot like that too. A lot of people are fake nice in the real world when they want something out of you. Expecting something out of someone is not love. Like when I go to New York what do I expect out of it? To breathe for one. Air is free in America for the time being. Breathing lately has been very important to me. I came back to my hotel room Friday evening to find out it was bought out by another company. I had this huge mess where I had to rekey my room. There was beefcake security posted outside that was handling crowd control for the concierge. I took a deep breath and sorted out the situation as best as I could. Finally got back upstairs at eight and watched American Dad and Family Guy and fell asleep. Two shows for the record I absolutely fucking hate but enjoy often when I’ve hit the wall lying on my bed in a hotel room alone. Breathing and pacing is always important for growth. I’ve run for so many years this much I know. Plants breathe in reverse or at least improve the air quality. Plants also need somebody to plant them. All these things require mindfulness. I don’t often sit in a yoga pose three hours a day and come up with these witticisms. Simple effort has taught me most people don’t even try. They don’t stop and analyze the situation. They don’t even know where to begin. They freak out. They have too may things in their life to deal with. Ironically my only baggage this trip was a pikachu bag from 7-11. Since nobody really cares about me on the surface level I just up and leave every two months. I fall into a different rhythm and become a different sort of person. None of that would have been possible without the freedom to roam, the freedom to think and the freedom to speak. Everybody needs their space and room to grow. And sometimes people grow into each other over time. You can’t really expect that to happen. It just does. There’s probably a deeper reason for it. There’s far more to it with me than meets the eye. I promise I will never name a child Megatron. I promise I’ll be back in New York in October. I promise a lot of things. They deliver in the strangest ways. You can walk any where with love in your heart. But love takes work if you want it to last. It’s been a year exactly since it took root in my mind. I like the space it’s given me to grow. Sometimes all it takes is taking the time to make room to grow. However long that takes. Flight delays and all. <3 Tim

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eliphya · 7 years

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Titel: It was Winter Chapter: Six (End) Pairing: NaruHina Words: 6902 Summary: AU. Hinata was 6 years old when she saw Naruto’s family’s bakery for the first time. Quickly, Naruto became her best friend and the bakery their special place.

A/N: The displayed age above the paragraphs is Hinata’s.

I really want to thank everyone who has followed this story, especially those who have written me messages. I’m happy to finally be able to finish this story, which I am actually kinda proud of. It was so much fun working on this. Maybe I’ll write an epilog for this one day but for now, this story is done. (I think I got carried away during the last part, I poured out every bit of love I had in me)

[First] [Previous Chapter]

[FF.net] [AO3]

8 years old

Naruto and Hinata had pushed their chair as close to the shop window as possible. Their gazes occasionally lifted at the graying sky, with swinging feet and crayons in their hands, they waited for the first snowfall of this winter. The weather forecast had predicted snowfall for today and even though the chances to see it happening were slipping with every minute the sky turned darker, the pair was still hopeful.

He listened to Hinata humming tunes that were unfamiliar to him as she colored the petals of the flower she was drawing with a purple crayon. Sometimes her elbow would hit him lightly in the side and she would always mumble a "sorry" before she continued and he would do the same when he accidentally hit her with his foot. They were presumably growing too big to continuously sit in their chair together but neither of them accepted the defeat yet instead both continued to squeeze their bodies next to each other between the cushions.

Naruto's parents were up and about in the kitchen. Sometimes his mother's head would appear in the doorframe to check on the children and ask them what they were doing or whether they were hungry before she scurried away again. During the busy holidays, Minato and Kushina would have to spend most of their time in the cake shop.

The children had offered their help but after a while, there was nothing much more they could do with their small bodies, which weren't tall enough to see above the counter, and their lack of skill.

24 years old

Naruto adjusted the box in his hand before he shut the door to his godfather's former beat up car, which Jiraiya had handed down to him before buying himself a brand new one.

He checked the inside again from the windows to see whether he had forgotten anything, then he turned away and crossed the street to the apartment building he would live in from today on.

The wind blew in his neck and the fingers froze around the box so he walked a little quicker. When he saw a woman in front of the doors to the building he stopped. She was biting the nail of her thumb and her eyes were shifting from the doorbell nameplate to her phone in the other hand. Naruto contemplated how to call out to her.

“Hinata."

She didn't greet him when she turned her head, just gaped at him in surprise instead even when Naruto carefully lifted one hand to wave at her.

"You are early," he remarked and Hinata started to frown.

"Weren't we supposed to meet at 10?" She glanced at her phone again. She had missed her bus on purpose and the one after that too so that she arrived later than the time they had agreed on because she didn't want to risk to be alone with Naruto in his apartment.

"No, at 11." A beat passed. Despite the situation and Hinata's obvious nervousness, Naruto was glad to see her. The awkwardness still remained whenever they locked eyes and when they had to search for the right words to say but he was pleased that she was here.

"So, no one's here yet?" Hinata inspected her surroundings as if one of her friends could jump out of the leafless bushes.

"No, you're the first." Naruto moved to open the door to the building and stood there in the doorway for a while observing her. He adjusted the box again, which was starting to get heavy, and held open the door with his back.

"Aren't you coming?" he asked. When Hinata faced him she questioned herself whether God or destiny or whoever was in charge of her life had a pleasure in teasing her. Whether she had brought this on herself the moment she had decided to prevent this exact thing from happening.

"Or do you want to wait in the cold instead?" There was a teasing tone in his voice and an amused twitching of the corner of his mouth. It reminded her of when they were 14 and he thought that it was funny how nervous she got at her first day officially working at the bakery and eventually having to face customers.

"I'm coming." She slipped passed him through the door and waited for him to follow her inside without turning her head.

No matter how awkward she had felt with him since he had come back, none of it could compare to what was happening between them when the doors to the elevator closed to get them to the 12th floor. Never had her breathing seemed so loud, never had someone else breathing seemed so loud. Somewhere along the 7th floor, Naruto started tapping with his foot and she could feel it underneath her shoes. She was careful not to accidentally touch him when the doors opened again and they stepped out.

Hinata trailed Naruto to the door that had the number 42 on it. Again balancing the box in one arm, he pulled a key chain out of his front pocket and opened the door. At this instant, Hinata realized how intimate this moment was and how much more intimate this would be once they were inside together with no people or even furniture to distract themselves with.

When they stepped over the threshold and Hinata moved to take off her shoes, Naruto hurried off somewhere to get slippers and wordlessly put them in front of her feet.

Her gaze followed him about the room as he inspected the few boxes and a suitcase he had collected in one corner of the spacious room. She was still standing by the entrance when he rushed to the open kitchen on the left where he rummaged through a plastic bag on the counter.

"Do you want something to drink?" He asked, without looking at her. "I bought some bottles of water and soda but then I realized that I don't have any glasses until the movers arrive. So..." Naruto pulled out a package of juice boxes and removed one. "This will have to suffice." He smiled when he walked over to hand the juice to her and she smirked too. It was orange flavored.

Naruto started mumbling to himself that he could have just gotten plastic cups instead and Hinata didn't know what to do with that. It went silent. He startled her when he suddenly grabbed the coat that was draped over her arm.

"I can take this, you can look around if you want." He walked off again. "Even though there isn't really much to look at."

Hinata slowly moved to the opposite side of the room, which was illuminated by a panorama window that presented a stunning view of the whole city. Thick, gray clouds hung above the buildings, some of which she tried to identify and match to streets she knew until they faded away along the horizon. How different everything seemed when you were beholding it from above.

"The view is amazing."

"It is, isn't it?" Naruto stepped next to her, sipping out of a juice box of his own. "It's one of the reasons I chose this apartment."

A moment passed where both silently drank their juice and watched the winter scenery of leafless trees and rushing cars before them. Then he pointed at something in the distance. "You can even see our school from here." He watched Hinata track the direction of his finger.

"That's right," she murmured as she wondered whether she could see his apartment from the teachers' lounge or her classroom and chose to find out next Monday.

Hinata glanced at Naruto but averted again when she caught him watching her. Her gaze fell to the boxes by her feet and she saw a patissier uniform folded neatly in one of them. She remembered how Naruto used to try on his father's uniform and the scowl he carried whenever he realized how it was still too loose around his shoulders. She wanted to see him wear it.

Even though she didn't want to pry in his private things, her gaze roamed over the rest of the boxes when Naruto left her side to get something from the kitchen. Hinata found a frame with a picture of Naruto and his parents right on the top of one. She kneed down and retracted it from the box, reflecting on how peculiar it felt to see a picture of smiling people that were no more.

When she was about to put it back she saw the hair clips she had given Naruto when they were little.

"You still have these?" She wasn't even sure whether Naruto was in her local vicinity to hear her. She was just surprised to see them again. Some of the plastic had peeled off at certain places and one of the claws was broken off. Because Naruto tended to keep them in the kitchen he thought it had been burned in the fire but she didn't say that out loud.

"Of course I do." Hinata turned her head to him and tried to read the expression on his face. It felt as though he wanted to add something but he just stared at her. And as she stared back at him, again realizing how his appearance had changed over the years -his hair, his shoulders, his height-, standing in his own empty apartment, it hit her how long ago it all was. How they were adults now. How everything she knew about him was a memory, like the hair clip in her hand.

Naruto noted the shift in the way her eyes met his as if a shadow had been cast over them. He wanted to ask her what she was thinking but she turned away to put the token of their past back and began sipping on the straw for her juice as she straightened her back.

The phone in his pocket rang and it was like a starting signal for him to breathe again. It was Shikamaru, who was standing outside the building and inquiring which apartment he should ring as Naruto hadn't put up his name on the nameplate outside yet.

"It's apartment 42, wait I'm gonna let you in." He rushed to the intercom and pushed the button for the front door. He remained by the entrance, Hinata on the other end of the room, and fiddled with the package of slippers he had bought yesterday until Shikamaru was standing in front of him.

Shikamaru greeted Naruto with half a smile and was about to take off his shoes when he noticed Hinata glued to the spot by the windows. She had contemplated whether to come to the door to greet him but picturing herself standing beside Naruto welcoming their friend into this apartment embarrassed her. Now that she watched Shikamaru's eyes shifting between Naruto and herself, furrowing his brows at how they tried to persuade him that this wasn't awkward at all, she wished she had greeted him by the door like a normal person.

Shikamaru cleared his throat, which added another layer of uncomfortableness to this situation.

"So Hinata, you're already here?"

"I thought we were meeting at 10."

Shikamaru produced an "Ah" sound, which formed her understand that he didn't believe her.

"I really did mistake the time," she added a little anxiously, which made Shikamaru peer at her as if she was talking complete gibberish.

"Okay?" he retorted after a while with a questioning glance back at Naruto, who didn't want to be part of this exchange at all. An unsettling silence followed and Naruto wished that Kiba or Ino had arrived first in Shikamaru’s place solely because they both had the talent to improve distressing situations with their talk and distract everyone.

Shikamaru began walking around the apartment when there wasn't much to consider except the general facility and blank walls. He walked into the bedroom on the right side of the entrance, which had unopened boxes with materials to build a bed and a dresser and a mattress leaned against a wall. Naruto explained that it even had a balcony and slid open one of the tall windows to it but quickly closed it again when the chilly air blew against his face.

There was also a small office by the spot where Hinata had been standing and a bathroom next to it, which Shikamaru inspected only shortly from the doorway as the rooms were empty and there was really nothing to see.

Luckily for all three of them, Ino arrived shortly after and it was like she was banishing the sullen mood with a flip of her ponytail and that lilting way she talked. She told everyone that Sakura couldn't make it because she had to take over someone else's shift at the hospital. Ino was soon enthusiastically showing herself around the place as if she could see more than just white walls and empty rooms. She expressed how much she enjoyed moving into new places because it was exciting to decorate everything. Shikamaru couldn't share her sentiment but didn't elaborate as he refrained from possibly making Naruto think that he was unhappy to be here.

Kiba arrived shortly after 11 nearly together with the movers who filled the apartment with furniture and boxes, which Naruto sorted into their corresponding rooms. There was a little struggle with getting the sofa to the 12th floor and through the door but after that was managed as well, the movers saw themselves off and left.

Firstly Shikamaru and Naruto started building the bed and Ino took the liberty to determine where everything had to stand in the living room and navigated Kiba through it all. When he shouted that Naruto should be the one to decide as it was his place, Naruto replied that it didn't really matter to him and if he disliked the arrangement he could just move it around anyway.

In a reaction to that Ino gave Kiba a smug smile and told him and Hinata to push the couch a little more to the left.

After a while, Naruto switched rooms with Kiba when he wanted to install the tv in the living room so that they had some sound in the background during the occasional silence that settled over them not because they didn't have anything to say but because they got so engrossed with the work they were doing.

There was one moment where Hinata watched Naruto from the side of her eye as he lifted his uniform from the box and put the hair clips in its chest pocket before he hung it on the bathroom door and went through the rest of his stuff to sort everything out one by one. He smiled to himself as Ino talked over the cartoon showing on tv and Kiba commanded Shikamaru to hold the board straight and Shikamaru argued why he always had to be the one holding things. He felt content with his life as he listened to their voices because after seven years of being away he still had people to do this with him.

8 years old

Naruto rolled over on the futon and it made Hinata raise her head from her pillow. He looked up at her but he couldn't see her face. Her bed made noises when she adjusted her sleeping position and Naruto watched the blanket rise and fall again.

Hanabi had quit moving some time ago and was probably already asleep. At first, she had found it fascinating that Naruto was sleeping on the ground between her and her sister and was chatting so loudly that Hiashi had to come inside to shush her two times.

Naruto himself didn't feel like sleeping, it was the first time he was allowed to sleep anywhere else other than a relative's or Jiraiya's house. His parents would have work through the night to make the cakes and pastries for the holidays and Hiashi had offered them to let Naruto sleepover at his house as Jiraiya had caught the flu and their shop was on the same street anyway. Kushina and Minato had gratefully accepted his offer and gifted him a cake when he arrived at the shop earlier to fetch the children.

"Too bad that it didn't snow today," Hinata whispered and Naruto was surprised to hear her speak again.

"Mhm, the weather lady was wrong." He turned to face her even when he couldn't see more than a shadow.

"Maybe because we were too excited about it." Naruto thought about that for a while because he wouldn’t want the world to work like that.

"Maybe you're right. Maybe we shouldn't expect it," he said then.

"We should just let it happen." Her voice sounded drowsy and he could hear that she was on the verge of falling asleep.

Naruto thought about what time it was right now, whether it was already past midnight. Then he thought about his parents and what they might be doing at this moment. Whether they were talking or smiling or discussing something or close to finishing their work. He hoped that his father's back wasn't aching from looking down the whole time and that his mother wasn't too tired. And with that thought, he fell asleep.

24 years old

The tv was the only source of light and the room still smelled like the pizza they had delivered to them this afternoon. Naruto's gaze roamed around the room, occasionally halting here and there. Ino was sighing behind him on the couch he was leaning against. She laid outstretched and bounced one of her legs up and down off the cushion, what he could feel in his back.

Hinata, Kiba, and Shikamaru had spread out on the floor, forming some sort of half circle.

"Thanks, guys. Who knows how long I would have taken to do all this on my own," Naruto said.

"No problem," Kiba replied, without even moving or glimpsing at him, as though it actually was no big deal when in reality it was. It was a huge deal. But Naruto didn't say anything more, he was just glad that they were here.

"I saw some pictures of you in Paris when I was sorting through your stuff, you were in France?" Ino took a sip from her soda and laid down again. "I always wanted to go there." Even though she examined the ceiling she knew the others were listening.

"Yeah." Naruto laid down on the ground with the others because his back was hurting from continuously have to bend down when building his dresser. "After graduating I entered a baking contest and somehow won a chance to study abroad. I entered for the experience. Didn't even expect to get third place."

”Wow. that's amazing."

"It was really cool. We traveled through France and Germany. I even stayed longer after I finished the program."

"You can speak French and German then?" Ino asked.

Naruto chuckled. "Not really. I just gestured with my hands a lot."

It was quiet for a while, then Hinata said, "Must have been scary, being alone in a different country without knowing the language." She had imagined herself in that situation and didn't believe that she would have mastered it as well as she trusted Naruto had.

Naruto reminisced for a moment and came to the conclusion that it hadn't felt much different than when he left here. But he didn't say that out loud, not wanting to dampen the mood. "I guess it was at first. But after a while, you get used to everything." He wasn't really talking about his time in Europe anymore but he hoped no one else noticed.

While Ino began quizzing him about France, especially Paris, and Naruto answered as detailed as he could, taking them on a trip to a country far away, Hinata squirmed around and accidentally laid her hand next to Naruto's. They were touching and she could hear him pause in whatever he was describing.

She was oblivious to why she didn't just remove her hand. But Naruto didn't either so she let it be there, touching his skin so lightly that it should barely be sensible. Yet she didn't just barely sense it, the sensation of his hand against hers was so ubiquitous that for a moment it was like there were only him and her.

Hinata remembered every encounter they had since the wedding and wondered whether this was the first time they touched since she had hugged him goodbye and he vanished around the corner of the street in Jiraiya's car.

For some reason, this moment seemed much more intimate than everything else they had done since they had met. This little touch and this closeness felt like something they had never done before. Just this faint brush of the back of their hands.

But then Kiba rose from where he was laying and Shikamaru did too and they retreated their hands and this moment was gone.

Naruto stood up to switch on the lights and Ino stretched her limbs. She marveled at how pretty the view outside was when the city lights showed.

"Hinata, you need a ride?" Kiba asked as he gathered his belongings.

"Yes, Hanabi borrowed my car today." She had already told him that but he nodded. Hinata tried to not meet Naruto's eyes across the room as she quickly grabbed her purse and slipped into her coat.

They said their goodbyes at the door, despite Hinata staring at the ground Naruto happily thanked them again for everything.

"No biggie."

This time Naruto shook his head and said, "It is." And he guessed that Kiba understood what he meant because he smiled at him. He watched and waved at them until the doors to the elevator closed.

Naruto collected the pizza boxes and glasses dotted around the room in the kitchen when he noticed Hinata's phone on the counter. She had left in such a rush to not face him that she had forgotten to take it with her. He laughed faintly at the irony and picked it up. He might still make it to her if he hurried. But that wasn't necessary because when he was in the hallway, the doors to the elevator opened and Hinata was right there.

She was surprised to see him and as she glanced at her phone in his hand she again wondered if some mighty force was controlling her life. If maybe there were some experience she had to make for some reason.

"I forgot my phone," she said when Naruto had already walked up to her to wordlessly hand her the device.

"Thanks."

"Wait." She traced every movement he made with her eyes, how he stepped closer and how he turned the switch to hold the elevator and its doors from moving.

"There is still something I haven't told you," he initiated, the look in his eyes had changed and Hinata could feel her heart pounding hard against her chest.

"You were the first person I came to see when I came back a few months ago. This summer I was thinking of visiting my parents' graves for their death anniversary and when I was finally here your school was the first place I went to. But when I saw you coming out of the building I couldn't come up to you because I wasn't sure whether you even wanted to see me and because I would eventually leave again and that would probably make you sad again. And I didn't want to do that to you. That's where I met Iruka by coincidence and he told me about the wedding."

He looked down for a while and scratched the back of his head and Hinata felt so sorry and regretful for, ever being angry at him about him supposedly not visiting her back then.

"After wandering around the city for a while I thought maybe I could visit the bakery and maybe it wouldn't pain the way it did back then. And when I was actually there it was only painful at the beginning and then it wasn’t."

He had been so relieved that time that he began to cry right on the spot he was standing. He didn't want to be sad when he thought of his parents. He wanted his thoughts on them to be filled with happiness and warmth; of moments that made his heart flutter, moments that made him feel at ease. When he thought of them, he wanted his love for them to fulfill him. He wanted remembering them to be something that didn't hurt, something good. And when he had stepped back into the bakery that was what he felt; good.

"That's why I'm reopening it, that's why I'm back." He gave her a second to process that information. "And I wanted you to be the first to know, before everyone else, and tell you when it's just you and me, because that place is special to you too and because you are special to me."

He heard her inhale; she was pressing her hand with the phone against her chest. He was uncertain whether she felt uncomfortable with him telling her things like this. That was the last thing he wanted.

"I'm not asking you out or anything. I just want to hang out and maybe talk or not talk, it doesn't matter." He was shaking his head. "I just want to make sure that when we say goodbye today we'll see each other again."

He silently examined her for a while, his eyes had turned soft and he could feel himself wanting to embrace her but he didn't. She appeared as though she didn't know what to say and he didn't want to force her to give him a response either. So he turned the switch again and pushed the button for the ground floor and stepped back, while she was following his movements again. "Goodbye then."

The elevator doors shut and she was gone. He didn't want her to be gone. He wanted to stop the elevator or bolt down the stairs to outrun her and say hello to her again when the doors opened but he refrained from doing any of that.

While he stood there in the hallway for a few more minutes he wondered how one person could make someone feel like this. How Hinata could still make him feel like this; this yearning to be next to her and this anxiousness when he was actually next to her. How anything he shared with her seemed to matter a lot more than everything else.

Hinata's heart kept pounding hard and Naruto's words still dominated her thoughts when she was laying in bed. She was mumbling things and she couldn't breath when it felt like the blanket was suffocating her. She sat up and checked the time on her phone; 3:12. Her sight was getting unfocused as she opened her contacts and it was like her finger was moving on its own when she saw Naruto's name and she pressed it.

She was sure that he wouldn't pick up. She was unsure if she even wanted him to pick up. But when she held the phone to her ear and every ring was making her heart race a little quicker she thought that talking to him wouldn't be too bad. That after thinking about everything he had said not only today but everything she could remember him ever say, she didn't just wanted to think there thoughts but tell him. And right now she couldn't wait for daylight to do so.

"Hello?" His voice sounded clearer than she had expected.

"Hi, it's me."

"I know." She liked that he didn't remind her what time it was, she knew that very well herself. She liked that he waited for her to speak. And she liked how he said that he knew that it was her.

"Were you awake?"

"Yeah, I'm at the bakery right now, I couldn't sleep so I'm working."

Hinata felt the adrenaline rushing through her. "The bakery? You are there right now?"

"Yes."

"Wait for me, I'm on my way." She jumped up from her bed and was searching for pants to wear.

"What? You're coming-"

"I'll be there in a few minutes." Hinata ended the call without saying anything else. Pulled the next best hoodie over her head and wasn't even aware which jacket she slipped into when she left her bedroom.

Quietly she opened the door to Hanabi's room, where her younger sister slept soundly. Hinata's hand felt every surface in the room in search for her car keys. She rummaged through some of Hanabi's bags and jackets but couldn't find it. When Hanabi resounded in the darkness, Hinata was startled enough to drop one of her purses to the ground.

"What are you doing?" She was rubbing her eyes.

"I'm sorry, I didn't want to wake you but where are my keys?"

"Your keys?"

"Yes, I need the key to my car."

Hanabi pointed to a pile of clothes by her dresser. And Hinata rushed there and vigorously shook the clothes until she could hear the jangling of the keys.

"Wait, what do you need your keys for?" She had her phone in her hand and the brightness of the screen was blinding her when she wanted to check the time. "It's the middle of the night."

"I have to go somewhere," Hinata answered curtly and walked out of the room in big strides.

"Now?" Hanabi followed her with quick steps. "Where are you going at this time?"

"Shh. Or you'll wake dad." Hinata shortly halted in putting on her boots to make sure he hadn't heard them already.

"Tell me. What's going on?" Hanabi wasn't doing her best in speaking more quietly.

"Nothing. There is just a place I have to be right now. I'm back soon, don't worry." With that, Hinata opened the front door and rushed into the night.

8 years old

"Naruto." A voice was calling him quietly and someone was softly shaking his shoulder. Naruto's eyes tore open and he saw Hinata's face above him when it was still dark and the only thing he could distinguish was the pale color of her eyes.

"What's going on?"

"It's snowing," she said and she was smiling at him. He peered over her head to the window above her bed and saw the snow fall gently against the bleak night.

Naruto stared at it and Hinata was following his gaze to make sure that he saw it. Then she climbed back on her bed and Naruto did too. They moved to the window, slipped under the curtain so that the only thing that was keeping them from the snow was the glass.

He felt a rush of happiness in him when they supported themselves with their elbows on the window sill and leaned in so far that they could see their breaths fogging the glass.

The ground was still pavement and no snow had settled yet but this was the best part; when you could watch how the world gradually turned white.

"It worked," Hinata whispered. The end of the curtain was tickling their feet.

"What do you mean?" The snow fell harder now and both of them didn't turn their eyes away.

"We stopped expecting it and just let it happen," Hinata said and she looked at him and he looked at her. Between the window and the curtain, it was just them.

Naruto's lips spread into a grin; he thought of snowball fights and snow angels. "You're right. We just let it happen."

24 years old

When he saw Hinata's car turn into the street he was surprised that she was actually here. He had had doubts that he understood her correctly but still waited outside the shop in case she really showed up. And she did.

She turned off the motor of her car, stepped out of the vehicle and walked towards him. Yet he still thought that he was imagining this somehow and he wanted to grasp her hand to know that she was actually here.

The boldness she had felt when she ran out of her house and rushed here in her car faded when she saw him standing there. He shouldn't have waited outside. The tip of his nose was red and he had pulled the hood of his down jacket over his head.

She stopped right in front of him. “Hi." Her breath visible in the air.

"Hi." He saw how her gaze moved from his face to the shop behind him. It was dim but you could see the light from the kitchen and the empty counter. There were chairs stacked up in one corner of the room because the tables hadn't been delivered yet. "Let's go inside."

He wanted to turn around but Hinata grabbed his hand. "Wait."

Her hand was warmer than his. At least now he knew that she was actually here.

"There is something I have to tell you before we go inside." She squeezed his hand and he glimpsed down at how they enclosed each other and squeezed hers back.

"Okay."

Hinata took a deep breath and she clasped him a little tighter. "I don't like amusement parks."

Naruto blinked at her and pushed his hood back. "What?"

"They are loud and crowded and I'm scared of most of the rides. I've never liked them."

He was starting to understand where she was trying to go with this. "But we went there every year."

"Yes, because the first time you asked me to go I didn't care where we were going. And the times after that I just wanted to go there with you, no, I wanted to be the one you chose to go there with."

He nodded and waited for her to continue. And again Hinata liked how he waited for her to speak.

"I didn't come to work early because it was convenient with the bus schedule or because I naturally wake up early in the morning. I did it to watch you work, even when it was just for a few minutes. I liked how you looked when you baked, it made me feel tingly and happy."

The tender gaze in his eyes right now made her breathless and her chest feel heavy and her toes curl and many other things that the eyes of the right person were remarkably able to cause.

"When I saw you at the wedding the feeling was the same. What I felt was the same as seven years ago. And it was scary, how little my affection for you has lessened. It made no sense to me, how I could still be in love with you after not seeing you for such a long time." He flinched visibly at this part because it was the first time either of them had said it out loud.

"But at home today I thought back to the time when you were gone and how there was nothing I wished for more than you to come back. And now you are back. So, I decided to be happy instead because my wish came true. Because it doesn't have to make sense. It doesn't matter whether it makes sense or not. Hang out and maybe talk or not talk, I would really like to do that. There is nothing I would like to do more."

He was smiling at her, not only with his mouth but also with his eyes.

Being with her like this right now was like the sudden realization you got when you noticed dust particles floating in a shaft of light or when the beauty of a sunset made you pause for a moment or when you glanced up at night and saw the infinite constellations of stars that make you think about the universe; the realization that you were alive, that you existed. Because the person you cherished the most in the world had a manner of seeing you that that made you special to them. That was what he felt when he looked at her. He felt elated and he couldn't remember ever feeling this feeling before but he wanted to feel like this forever.

He lifted his hand to her face a brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. He knew that his hands were cold but he wanted to touch her face so desperately. Her eyes sparkled and she wore clothes that looked as though she had thrown over the first thing she had seen and it was perfect. It was the way it was supposed to be.

His other hand, which she had ceased squeezing the moment she was done talking, moved to the other side of her face. His thumb stroked her cheek and she fisted his jacket by his waist with both her hands and they stood the closest they had ever stood. Then his hands wandered to her neck and a shiver ran down her spine. Not because it felt cold but incredibly warm. He smiled at her and she smiled back and they kissed.

Because there was not a moment they could pinpoint, because the feeling of affection had grown gradually, it was like they had been in love since the first moment they had seen each other. Since he had seen her pressing her palms against the counter of the bakery since she had seen him holding a plate with a piece of strawberry cake.

But indifferent to when it had originated, they were feeling the greatest magnitude of love right now because for once they just let it happen.

The air was cold and the thickness of their jackets hindered them from getting as close as they wanted to. But this moment still felt like one of those memories that wouldn't become blurry and fade after some time but would still glisten.

Their lips parted, their arms still holding each other. He stroked her hair and she closed her eyes. When she heard him chuckle she opened them again.

"What is it?"

He smiled from his eyes once again. "It's snowing."

Her head whipped up first before she peeked to the side and saw the snow fall like silent stars under the light of the street lanterns. She could feel them melt on her cheek.

"Do you think this is a sign or something?" she asked amused.

She could feel his laugh from the way he was holding her. "Maybe."

He lifted his head against the sky and the snow for a few seconds before turning his eyes on the bakery. "There is something I want to show you, do you still have time?"

She nodded. Time didn't really matter right now.

He captured her hand and led her into the bakery, there was still a bell that rung above the entrance. It was odd being back and the former furniture not being there, without the picture frames on the walls and sweets displayed on the counter. Naruto allowed her to study the place for a while. And it felt like the past and the present were mashing into one.

The kitchen smelled sweet and was warm because Naruto had been baking just a few minutes ago. He said that he had a lot of thoughts today and that baking helped to sort them out. It was something he had said often in the past and it was nice hearing it again.

"Now to what I wanted to show you." He took her hand again and brought her back to the front that was still unlit. He positioned her on a certain point in the room. "Right here."

Then he disappeared to the back of the shop but she could still hear his voice. "You remember how my mother was like the best in decorating and stuff?"

Hinata laughed. "Yes, I do."

"Well, I guess this proofs that I really am her son." Suddenly there were lights above her, strings of lights covering the whole ceiling in gold. Cut out stars hanging from them and ornament balls reflecting the glow on the walls and the ground and on Naruto when he walked back into the room. Everything glimmering as if it were coated in magic.

"It seems endless." She felt small; not in a bad way but in a way that made you realize that there was still so much left in the world to see. Like that time she was 6 and she had found this place for the first time.

When she averted her eyes from the ceiling again, Naruto was next to her and he took her hand gently as though he wanted to burn the sensation into his memory. The sensation of everything they were feeling at this exact moment.

She was so grateful that she had found this place back then when it was winter; that Kushina had brought her inside; that she shared a cake with Naruto in that big old green chair by the window. Every memory of that day she felt grateful for.

She felt grateful for Naruto being her best friend and she felt grateful that he was by her side right now, holding her hand and watching the snow with her.

#naruhina #naruhina fanfic #mywriting #it was winter #naruto uzumaki #hinata hyuuga #naruto

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tancong · 7 years

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Gency’s Valentines

The Charming Cyborg

The laboratory was filled with the scent of clean sterilized equipment, cool air conditioning that left no lingering odor of the chemicals that were once in the now spotless test flasks, and the naturally calming ambient scent of the wooden floor that was similar to the style used in traditional Japanese homes. Amidst it all, Mercy sat at a work table surrounded by papers, tablets, charts, and reports, almost all which were generated by herself with the exception of a few correspondents and external researches from others that were loaded up on her tablets for easy access of bringing around with her and comparing data.

The lady in the white lab coat perused over the data that surrounded her, idly taking a sip of the cup of tea that was on a safe area of her table. It would not have been there had a certain someone not insistently bringing her one. While he was not here at the moment, it suddenly felt strange to not have one near her while she worked. Besides, its warmth made her feel calm and reminded her of his presence. He reasoned also that it would be better than overloading her with caffeine if she kept drinking throughout the day and night. Had he insisted on any other drink, she might have have the same in all honesty. However, it was the traditional drink of choice from his homeland, one that he gladly shared with her. As such, she couldn’t help but attribute the familiar scent with him, the loving Japanese cyborg.

The thought made her glance up at the ceiling, finding herself thinking about both him yet still somehow connecting it with her work. After all, this was time when she had to work the hardest as Mercy and not be distracted by thoughts of Angela’s lover. She knew that she should work hard to finish her work before he returned home, so that she could spend all her time with him instead. Right now, it would be useless for her to muse over thoughts about him, however sweet and happy they may make her feel. He was not here with her after all, so she was better off focusing on her work rather than longing for his presence. His gentle touch on her arm and the way he wrapped his warm steel arm around her waist from behind while she worked …

Mercy shook her head clear and stood up, walking toward one of the test tubes to begin a new experimental trial. The thought from earlier, the one before her longing for him, returned and brought a small smile to her lips. She was working to develop a new medicine that could be ingested. Considering Genji’s inability to taste things for the first part of his cyborg life (until she had developed the proper pill to stimulate that sense for him), the thought of taste came to her. While it was of course needless, after all most medicine doesn’t taste good and is simply meant to be consumed quickly. However, she found herself compromising between thinking about Genji and her work by considering how she could make it taste better. Perhaps she could make it taste like strawberry. Or perhaps tea would be more pleasant. If she really wanted to be adventurous, she could maybe even go for chocolate …

Angela let out a loud gasp, looking up at the clock. It was past midnight and more than an hour into Valentine’s Day. In all her work, she had completely forgotten about the date. Of course, she had no reason to remember the day before this. Though she got a few chocolates now and then, she never really accepted beyond out of pleasantries or making it clear that she was not interested in a relationship beside her professional one. In all honesty, ever in the past year that she had been getting to closer to Genji she had not thought of it until he gave her a small accessory on the day. It was nothing fancy and seemed like a normal gift, though she couldn’t help but use it every day ever since whenever she could. Now though, she figured she should do something, no matter how small.

“Athena! I’m in need of some help with an urgent, if you could please.”

At this point, all thoughts of her work were gone and Angela was in full panic mode. She knew that there was little time left for her to prepare anything. Granted, he was still on the mission but he did promise to come home before the day ended if she recalled correctly. That meant she probably had at least 12 hours to prepare, though considering her lover she may not have any more than that much time. While he was very endearing and very eager to return to her side, a fact which she loved about him, this was the one time where it might not be so good. With her golden hair shaking free from the small butterfly clip (which remained stuck onto the bundle of now straight strands), Angela looked to the corner of the room where Athena’s icon glowed to indicate her presence.

“Is there something I may assist you with, Dr. Ziegler?”

Angela sighed in relief, glad that the AI was there. Of course, she knew that Athena would not be offline for any reason, she had no need for sleep after all. However, it was still strangely comforting to know that she could confide with and get help from at this hour of the day. “Just Angela is fine. I need to know how long it would take for me to order some Swiss chocolates.”

Athena remained silent for a few moments before speaking once more. “I can obtain some Lindor chocolates for you by this evening. Will that be satisfactory?” This induced another sigh of relief from Angela, accompanied by a bright smile toward the holographic logo near the wall in gratitude.

“That would be perfect, thank you Athena. Also … there is another rather personal request I would like to make if you would please.” This comment was said with a set of averted eyes and a soft blush on the doctor’s normally pale cheeks, a sight that Athena was sure that Genji was treated to very often considering his charms.

“A personal request? Very well, I will try my best to assist you in this matter. If it requires another item, I may be able to hide the transaction from the log if we utilize your personal account. Unlike certain members of Overwatch, your confidentiality is completely safe with me.”

Angela let out a soft laugh and nodded, walked out of the room and toward her own room. There were things there that she needed for her next request after all. She had been taking notes on certain things and had certain ideas written down for potential usage. Now was one of such times. While she was definitely late to prepare, with Athena’s help she was surely going to do her best to surprise the lovely cyborg who had captured her heart.

It took about half an hour for them to finish discussing the request and complete all the preparations. Athena was thanked profusely for her help, especially considering the intricacy of the request and the fact that she promised to get it delivered most likely in time for Genji’s return. It was going to be quite a surprise as both a Valentine’s Day and a welcome back gift.

As she bid Athena good night, the holographic logo paused for a moment before speaking. “Before you go, I was asked to hold onto a package for you until you head to bed. The sender requested for me to not disclose it until you did so, or to tell you to head to sleep by 2am. Seeing as you are going now, I have no need for the latter directive.” Angela giggled, covering her mouth as she brushed a stray strand of hair from her eye over her left ear. She definitely knew someone who matched the description of being so overbearing and sweet, even when he was thousands of miles away.

Angela accepted the package with a smile, watching as the logo disappear. She looked down at the box, unwrapping it gingerly as if she did not want to damage even the beautiful red and white wrapping paper. When she successfully removed the box from the package, she could not help but chuckle. While Ghirardelli was not her favorite brand, he must have hand picked this himself and used his own funds to buy the item and shipped it so far. To think that he found time from his mission to plan all this … She opened the box, placing a piece into her mouth and letting out a delighted hum as its sweet outer coating melted in her mouth, enticing her to bite into it and revealing the inner layer of dark yet sweet content. As she did so, her blue eyes softened as she gazed down at the intricate origami style envelope that had a heart on its back as the flap stopper. In the front was his and her name in Japanese kanas, something that she recognized due to her studies. She spent a moment gazing at the letter’s design, opening it slowly as she finished the chocolate in the same manner.

Throughout the letter, she found herself unconsciously grinning and holding her left hand against her chest. While cheesy even by hers standards of him, it was certain sweet and touching. She traced her finger over his neat cursive signature, smiling fondly at the thought of the cyborg. Even when he was not there, he could take her mind off her work so easily. Noticing the last little note at the bottom, Angela let out a bright chiming laugh that rang momentarily within her room despite her mouth being covered by her free hand to stop it from doing so. He was never going to stop surprising her was he. That was why he was so charming after all.

The letter was folded and returned neatly to its envelope, which found its place leaning next to their framed photo on the bed stand next to her head. She looked at them both for a moment before turning off the lights and closing her eyes. He did want her to rest after all. Besides, she should rest up to prepare for her own Valentine’s surprise.

Until then, she’ll enjoy her sleep despite it being lonelier without her usual bedside companion. Regardless, she surely was going to have sweet dreams for this sweet Valentine’s Day. As sweet at the chocolate from the cyborg ninja.

Dear Angela, Even amidst the cold winter of the place that I currently am at, I can’t help but feel comfortingly warm at the thought of you. After all, you are the angel who managed to charm a playboy’s heart, to make him desire you more than anything else in the world. I do not wish to be so corny as to say compare you to a beautiful lake attracting the presence of every creature in the forest, such an image would not do you justice. While your eyes may feel like a refreshingly calm lake which I can dive in and become lost for hours on end, a lake could not possibly hope to represent you. Even the graceful snow that surrounds me now does not compare to your flawless complexion, the way your body exudes elegance and charm with your smooth skin and the petite curves that could compete with even the most beautiful river in the world. Perhaps I’ve spent far too long away from you. I find myself longing for your touch, to smell the faint scent of your rose shampoo that you’re always too shy to use in great volume. I long for the gentle kiss on my cheek, the soft touch of your hand as you intertwine your fingers with mine. More than anything, I miss having you in my arms, where I can gaze tirelessly at the pretty face that hold a smile that is brighter than the moon’s reflection and can pierce through my heart with more ease than a masterwork blade. Until I return, I will always have you in my mind. To my angelic Angela, goes my heart and soul. Always longing for you and eternally only for you.

P.S. I got some chocolate for you. Not Swiss …

Part 2: Mesmerizing Mercy

#gency #emergenji #genji #mercy #genji shimada #angela ziegler #gency fanfiction #gency fanfic #emergenji fanfiction #emergenji fanfic #mercy x genji #genji x mercy #valentines

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travelworldnetwork · 5 years

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Club Med and Peisey-Vallandry, France. Photo: Club Med

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Picture the scene: you're in a warm, woodsy brasserie perched in the French Alps, peckish after a morning's fun and games in the snow, snuggling up around a table with loved ones and new friends and licking your lips at the prospect of a deliciously cheesy lunch. There, on the table, emitting a heavenly scent to any fromage fan, is a bubbling pot of Fondue Savoyarde – a speciality of the Savoie region of France in which we're holidaying.

Cooked with white wine and garlic, this creamy ensemble is flavoured with three different alpine cow's milk cheeses – comte, emmental and beaufort – and is nigh on impossible to look at, and smell, without wanting to dip in your fork, to which you can attach crusty chunks of baguette nestled in the bread baskets on the table.

Exceedingly tempting, too, is raclette, another pungent alpine cheese that's being toasted to near-melting point on a small grill. We just have to scrape it off and drip it on to our baked potatoes and charcuterie. Complemented by vinaigrette-laced salads, Chignin-Bergeron (a crisp Savoie white wine) and a dessert of blueberry tart, whipped cream and espresso, this is a typical lunch in the Savoie region, and indeed in other parts of the Alps, and brings not just immense satisfaction but also provides fuel for further alpine adventures in the afternoon.

As we depart Brasserie des Pistes, the chalet-style venue for this calorific feast, the easiest thing to do would be to get back on the real pistes. A two-minute walk down the mountain-side, below the brasserie's sun terrace, is one of the myriad chairlifts of the Paradiski region, one of the Alps' premier winter sports areas.

Boasting 425 kilometres of ski runs, with altitudes ranging from 1200 metres to 3250 metres, Paradiski is spread across the gorgeous Tarentaise valley and sub-divided into three major zones: Les Arcs, Peisey-Vallandry and La Plagne. We're staying at Club Med Peisey-Vallandry, which is located at virtually the midway point of the region.

Walk, ski or snowboard out of the resort's back door and you'll find apres-ski bars, said chairlift (which whisks you to a variety of slopes suitable for all levels) and the Vanoise Express, a cable car that links Peisey-Vallandry with La Plagne. It bobs 1824 metres across the valley – and 380 metres above the valley floor at its highest point – in just four minutes.

We board this engineering marvel using the Paradiski pass that allows you to hop on the region's buses, chairlifts and funiculars (Club Med guests get the pass for "free" as part of its all-inclusive package). Unveiled in 2003 and made up of two double-decker cars that can each hold 200 people, the Vanoise Express is the longest cable car in the world without pylons.

Right now, we probably wouldn't be able to see any pylons even if there were any. The sun had been wrestling with the fog all morning and the fog has temporarily won the battle, wreathing the whole valley. In clear weather, spectacular views are a given through the windows and glass-bottomed floors, with everything from quaint little alpine villages to Mont Blanc, Europe's highest mountain, there to be gawped at.

As we close in on La Plagne, however, we can just about make out the tips of the frozen pine trees we're drifting above. My fellow passengers debate which movie or TV show this spooky scene reminds them of. There's talk of Game of Thrones and its zombie White Walkers. Some of the older folk – OK, me – mention The Fog, a 1980 film by horror director John Carpenter. A few hours later, I find myself wallowing in nostalgia once more and daydreaming about The Chronicles of Narnia. I half expect the White Witch or Aslan to make an appearance as we tramp through the magical, snow-drenched Vanoise National Park, a few kilometres from our resort.

With the fog-induced poor visibility dashing any post-lunch downhill skiing plans, we opt for a safer and more leisurely activity: snowshoeing. We clip on our plastic snow-shoes, and grab some walking poles at the park's Nordic Centre, a chalet-style hub where you can hire equipment and source maps detailing local trails.

With the fog dissipating, we hike, in the company of local guides Yann and Marie, through this sublime slice of countryside – France's first national park, founded in 1963 –beneath towering, pine-carpeted peaks and past avenues of larch trees, sprinkled with white powder. Apart from the sound of us scrunching through the snow, and of water trickling under ice-blanketed streams, it's blissfully silent. It would have been much noisier here a few centuries ago, says Marie. She reveals that this was a bustling silver and lead mining area and we pass an abandoned stone building, formerly the French School of Mines, where engineering students from across the country would come to learn their trade.

Back then, the area was called Monts d'Argent ("mountains of silver", or money). A little further on, we come to a cluster of rustic wooden homes, icicles hanging from the roofs, in the one-street hamlet of Beaupraz aux Lanches. There is no sign of life as we shuffle along. We're told people live here in summer but in winter it's empty, almost eerily so, due to the threat of avalanches. With our cold breath wisping through the air and the setting sun causing bursts of pink and purple to mark the darkening sky, we return to the Nordic Centre, where the effects of a particularly torrid avalanche in 1995 are depicted in framed wall photos. Then we return, by bus, to base camp where roaring fires, hot chocolate, cocktails and nibbles await in the welcoming lounge area of Club Med Peisey-Vallandry.

Decked out with plush leather and fabric sofas, stone columns and timber beams, this 284-room resort opened in 2006 and is set to be "refreshed" over the next two northern summers. It has a quainter, more traditional alpine vibe than Club Med Les Arcs Panorama, which was unveiled, 10 kilometres away as the bearded vulture flies, last December.

While not as cool and contemporary as its sleek new baby sister, Club Med Peisey-Vallandry resort has a cosy charm, with many of the same perks and facilities as Les Arcs Panorama, such as free skiing and snowboarding classes, heated indoor and outdoor pools, all-inclusive meals and alcohol and quirky evening entertainment by the affable, youthful Club Med staff known as GOs (gentils organisateurs).

The Peisey-Vallandry location, with its cute village setting and wide array of easily-accessible slopes, might have more appeal, especially for beginners. And, as we discovered, if you fancy a break from the pistes and the resort, you're not short of alternative activities, whether it's fondue-munching in local brasseries or falling under the spell of the beguiling Vanoise National Park.

FIVE MORE THINGS TO DO IN VANOISE NATIONAL PARK

CROSS-COUNTRY SKIING

Harking back to the days when hardy alpine folk would use skis to chase game and gather firewood, this form of skiing involves propelling yourself across snow-covered terrain, and guarantees a good upper-body workout.

HORSE AND PONY RIDES

Trot through the snowy forests in the saddle, keeping an eye out for local wildlife such as the alpine ibex, a type of wild goat that flourishes in these mountains.

BIATHLON

Try your hand at one of the most watchable of the Winter Olympic events, combining skiing and rifle shooting.

DOG SLEDDING

Glide across the park's winter wonderland in a husky-pulled sled and learn how to harness, steer and brake.

NORDIC WALKING

A step up from snow-shoeing, you'll eat up more ground – and burn off more calories – with this fast-paced hiking technique.

TRIP NOTES

Steve McKenna was a guest of Club Med and Peisey-Vallandry Tourism Board.

traveller.com.au/france

peisey-vallandry.com

FLY

Air France flies to Paris from Sydney and Melbourne; code share with Qantas or Etihad. See qantas.com; etihad.com

The nearest train station to Peisey-Vallandry is Gare de Landry, a five-hour trip from Paris. See en.oui.sncf

STAY

A seven-night winter stay (December-April) at Club Med Peisey-Vallandry is from $2385 a person; children under four, free. Nearest airports to the resort are Grenoble and Geneva, about 2½ hours by road. See clubmed.com

from traveller.com.au

#Travel Guide

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killingthebuddha · 5 years

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A few years ago, I purchased a little nativity scene that held a tea light inside. There it sat at a local fair trade holiday sale, a surprisingly Christian symbol on a table strewn with reindeer, snowmen, the pointy shapes of evergreen trees, and other apparently more secular reminders of the holiday season.

I hesitated. I’d long since discarded, I thought, most traditional Jesus-centered observances at Christmastime. Every December my interfaith family throws open its home to the promise of light, whether that be the light of eight candles burning, the light found in a tiny baby’s new life, or the return of light after the darkness of the solstice. We decorate our home in hues of blue and white, red and green, mixed together in a blend that nevertheless recognizes each tradition as its own, and the progressive religious tradition in which I’ve long found a home celebrates many meanings in the December season.

My hand hovered over the candle holder, with stars cut through the dome of sky to let the candle’s light out. Painted in matte colors with basic, almost childish strokes, Mary and Joseph cluster around the figure in a tiny cradle, simple houses and desert plants hovering in the background. No wise men, shepherds, or angels visit the scene, just the one small, growing family, and stars hanging in the sky above.

I brought the nativity scene home, and set it on our table.

* * *

Every year it hits me, this nostalgia, a backwards glance at Christmases past. It’s my own version of the December dilemma, the difficulty of a holiday connected to and yet separate from the specificity of one tradition. Could I do Christmas without Christ, as I’d been doing for years, letting angels, snowmen and scented evergreen stand in for all the other meanings of the season? Yes, my mind wanted to say, of course I can! After all, our modern-day Christmas originates with the merging of the Roman holiday Saturnalia as a convenient time to celebrate the birth of Jesus, later layered with northern European traditions of Father Christmas and evergreen trees.

And yet, purchasing the little nativity scene convinced me that I had unfinished business with the religion of my youth, and that winter, I went back to the denomination I hadn’t visited in years, one that lights an Advent wreath and sings the real words to hymns like “O Come, O Come Emmanuel” and “Once in Royal David’s City,” rather than universalized alternatives set to the same tunes. I decided to give putting Christ back in Christmas a thorough church season or two of effort. Wouldn’t it be more honest to keep this reason for the season intact, if I still felt drawn to it? Didn’t it make sense to return to a place where a single symbol conveyed a world of meaning?

* * *

When I was a child, we set our nativity scene up on a Japanese-style medicine cabinet that stood in the front hallway. When I was old enough to carefully remove the wooden figurines from the funny shredded paper packaging that kept Mary, Joseph, the wise men, and a few shepherds and angels safe from year to year, it felt like a rite of passage. I’d attained an age when I could handle delicate, sacred matters, carefully arranging Joseph and Mary around the empty wooden cradle, hanging the biggest, blue-robed angel, the one with a white “Gloria in excelsis” banner, on the old nail at the top of the rough wooden scene.

Jesus always sank during the year to the bottom of the paper shavings, and we’d put his naked little plastic self into one of the top drawers of the cabinet, one of the drawers that didn’t contain a host of unused coupon clippings or random stashes of ribbons, buttons, and other long-forgotten supplies. Come Christmas morning, my brother and I were too busy with Santa, stockings, and a plate full of once-a-year Christmas cookies to worry too much about the baby hidden in his dark, lonely manger of a deep wooden drawer. My parents watched us opening gifts, the baby Jesus equally forgotten, our parents equally sidelined by the effusive magic of the present morning.

Usually we remembered Jesus sometime in the early afternoon, after the presents had been opened, breakfast cleared away, my brother and I lost in a pile of new packages, my mom in the kitchen preparing a traditional Christmas dinner. Inevitably, someone would call out, “we forgot the baby Jesus!” and we’d all laugh, run to the manger scene, tenderly lay the naked plastic figure in his cradle, and return to our other activities.

* * *

Nostalgia paints the world in tones of sepia and roses, offering a false picture of a past that may not keep its promises for the present. Leigh Eric Schmidt, in his now-classic book Consumer Rites (which explores the consumerist origins of our modern holiday traditions), translates the yearly December nostalgia as a concern in “modern, industrialized societies for the genuine, the handcrafted, the authentic, or the real. Modern holidays and their rituals are thought to be sadly insubstantial, ersatz, or hollow; they are never so good, genuine, joyous, or fulfilling as they used to be.”

If it seemed that my own celebration of December holidays had fallen prey to this suspicion, to the fear that my winter-themed, commercialized holiday was somehow in tension with a more “original” meaning, that complaint didn’t quite match the mood in which I bought the blue nativity scene. We kept the Maccabees in Hannukah alongside our menorah and eight days of gifts; why did I feel I had to celebrate a Christ-less Christmas? My nostalgia-fueled holiday critique bypassed the issue of commercialism and went, instead, straight to questions of religious certainty and substance.

There it was on my dining room table, that seemingly innocuous symbol. “What a cute family!” my five-year-old daughter exclaimed as soon as she saw it, asking immediately that the family face her, and not her sister, as we sat down to eat. How could I explain that this wasn’t just any family; this was Jesus and his family?

That night, we lit candles for Hannukah; we lit a tea light in the nativity scene. I stumbled through an explanation that Christmas––in addition to being a time of warmth and light and family closeness in the dark time of year, not to mention the gift-giving that was paramount in my daughters’ minds––was also the celebration of the birth of the little baby in that scene right there, and that Christians believe this baby came to save the world.

My academic explanation didn’t last long with my five-year-old; she wanted to know what her parent believed. I wanted to know, too.

In trying out my childhood church again, I wanted to touch something holy as if it could be solid and certain. If I could welcome the baby Jesus onto my dining room table, surely there was room in my heart, mind, and body for one more layer of meaning?

I stuck with my childhood church tradition until Easter, feeling the familiar rituals of crossing myself, kneeling for confession, and taking Communion. The actions settled through my body like warm hot chocolate after a long time out in the snowy cold. By Easter, though, my mind had failed to catch up. Words about the “only son of God” stuck in my throat alongside unshed tears, and I found myself thinking about my daughter’s interest in the little family at the manger. Did it have to represent just that one particular family? Couldn’t God be found in more persons than just this one? Could I not also sing, in a riff on Leonard Cohen’s song “Who by Fire,” who in a manger; who in a refugee camp; who on a dusty plain, a humble home, an antiseptic hospital? Which flickering flame of life would provide hope when it was needed most?

Symbols hold not just one meaning, but many. They convey truth not because they are unequivocal, but because they’re multivalent, metaphorical. Wax melts when touched by a candle’s flame; it softens like a heart, and shifts.

***

Nostalgia looks back to a past supposedly more whole, more perfect, more full of promise than the present moment, but Advent, as a season of the church, looks forward in hope to the coming of a better day. What an irony that we spend so much time dreaming of Christmases past and their possible perfections!

In the wrong hands, nostalgia can be dangerous. It gives a false picture of a past that never was. Jesus has never truly been the only reason for the season, any more than America once was greater than it is now. Most of our holiday nostalgia, thankfully, is no more dangerous than baby Jesus being forgotten in a coupon drawer, but nostalgia’s sticky emotional resonance can lead us away from the promises and challenges of the present into an unfounded feeling of what we might have lost. We fear we can’t live up to the past; we face depression, loneliness, and despair as we try to make the holidays shine ever more brightly.

Nostalgia’s illusion can make the holiday season more laden with difficult emotion than it needs to be. Memory creates a powerful pull in that we think we should feel a certain feeling when the holidays roll round, but when we don’t, we assume, automatically, that we’re in the wrong. We assume we’ve fallen away from how things were, a how that must have been more certain, more solid, more joyous than we knew. The truth of both Christmas past and present may be closer, in fact, to the dull ache of difference, a thought can ease our way to holidays of the future. If we can let go of the idea of one single truth or one perfect past, perhaps we can find a little bit of Christmas peace.

In Winifred Gallagher’s Working on God, a memoir of exploring faith after years of leaving church deep in her own past, she interviews an Episcopal priest who was raised in the Salvation Army. “I don’t go back to the Salvation Army,” the priest says, “but I miss it terribly. There’s this sadness about not being there, because even the soap in the bathroom smells right!” It’s possible, the priest realizes, to find spiritual maturity in knowing when one needs to move beyond one’s nostalgic memories, even the memories that smell right, or that feel so familiar deep within the body. Advent challenges cultural Christians, post-Christians, and believers alike to embrace not old nostalgic memories, but new meanings, ones that bring hope for the future.

I sometimes still return to that same church, but I no longer expect it to feel the same as it once did. To miss a tradition doesn’t make it false, but missing it also doesn’t mean it holds the corner on truth, either. Truth, at least as far as memory and tradition are concerned, shines through when something solid softens, and becomes malleable.

Light flickers out through the stars cut in the sky of the nativity scene. Is this a light that shone for just that one holy season, or is it a light that shines when we need the reminder of hope the most? This time, I do not need one answer; the way the candle dances is enough.

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eddiejpoplar · 6 years

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Winter Test Drive with the new 2018 BMW i3s

The all-new 2018 BMW i3s is the Bavarians’ first ever Sport Edition of the i3. The i3s enhancements include the trifecta of increased power, improved handling and a more athletic appearance. The i3s has unique wider 20 inch wheels with performance summer tires, as well as a lowered and wider stance. The track has increased by 40 mm and ride height lowered by 10mm. Visually the i3 is most easily identified by its larger wheel arches and unique front and rear clips. The question remains, how does an i3s sporting chassis handle the winter?

We picked up our new 2018 Imperial Blue Metallic i3s on January 4th, right in the dead of winter. We opted for the Tera World with Brown Full Leather, plus the Technology and Driving Assistant Package. To top it off, we also went for the BMW i Blue Seatbelts, Harman Kardon Sound and Apple CarPlay, for a total MSRP of $56,445.

I knew on the short drive form the dealership to our house that this BMW had fixed one of my biggest complaints with the i3, namely this thing handles great on the highway! Instead of a tipsy feel, when at highway speeds and crosswinds, the 2018 i3s feels hunkered down and more planted. Cross winds no longer buffet the car about. As far as the Sport goes, the initial off the line acceleration feels no different than the 22kWh i3 BEV, however over 30mph the i3s really scoots. Though this is the same motor in the entire i3 line, the programing on the i3s allows more power where it can really help – on ramps and passing maneuvers.

Moving from a 2014 i3 to the 2018 i3s, BMW has increased the battery capacity from 22kWh to 33kWh. Interestingly BMW did this by simply using a higher 94 amp hour battery cell instead of 60 ah cells, so that the packaging of the i3’s battery did not need re-engineering.

EPA rated range has gone from 80 miles to 107 miles. So far in 1600 miles of driving in winter weather we are averaging 3.2 miles per kWh. I expect this to improve when the weather warms up, as batteries will be more efficient and wont be needed to heat up the cabin. Though just a slight bump up in range, the i3s is now more useful to us and definitely enjoy over 100 miles per charge. We even made a trip to a college town 45 miles away that we would not have been able to do in our old i3 without charging for the return trip. The DCFC charger is a nice bonus too because our old i3 did not have it. I can easily go well over 100 miles in a day if I hit the DC Charger for even just 15-20 min.

To heat the cabin, all i3 BEVs in the US have a fabulous heat pump style heater, plus heated seats that work great in the seriously cold weather. Unfortunately the new i3s is just as bad as our old i3 at fogging up the windows in the winter. Despite my desire not to run the heat much, I still have to cycle it on and off to clear the windows. Yes, I have air vent set to fresh air. Sadly no heated steering wheel is available and there is no option for heated seats in the rear. We keep a killer pair of winter gloves to cope with a steering wheel that will suck all your body heat out of you in the freezing weather otherwise.

Perhaps the biggest engineering hat trick in the i3s is how much better it handles putting the power down with its improved traction. The control system is 50-times-faster, thanks to the control process being calculated directly in the powertrain instead of in a remote unit that required long signal paths. This not only helps with power delivery but also when you are in brake energy regen mode and hit a bump. The old i3 would at this point give up and free wheel and you’d have to immediately nail the brake pedal.

No longer, in over 1600 miles, many winter potholes and bumps, I can’t get the back-end to give up under regen. It consistently slows the car in a very predictable fashion. This is, in my opinion, the way the i3 should have been all along. Accelerating in the snow the traction control is more refined. The old system was rather intrusive, this new system is more subtle and I can definitely tell it is making more interventions per second. This system is so good on the i3s that it is being rolled out across many more of BMW’s automobiles.

Next there is a new Sport Mode which sharpens throttle response and increases steering effort. As no extra power is delivered, there is no active dampening and no change in steering ratio, which I find I don’t use it at all, especially in the winter. Zero to 60 even when not in Sport Mode is still at a brisk 6.8 seconds for the pure electric i3s. For reference, the base 2018 i3 BEV 0-60 mph is 7.2 seconds. The i3s Sport Mode reminds me of when General Motors made their sports cars seem faster by feeding more gas per inch of pedal travel. When trying to control at car at limit a twitchy throttle is not really helpful especially in the winter.

In Europe, BMW dealers have access to BMW OEM 19 inch wheels that have the i3s’s unique offset and allow the 155/70/19” snow tires to be utilized and apparently are only available in black. No dice here in the United States currently as dealers don’t stock these wheels and no idea when they will get them. TireRack.com does not stock them either or know if or when they will. Further, Stock i3 BEV wheels don’t work either as the offset is wrong.

As the 2018 i3s just hit US Dealerships in January 2018, snow tires are not available for the stock 20 inch i3s wheels and winter wheel sets for the regular i3 will not fit. How do I know? Well, we just moved up from a 2014 BMW i3 BEV to the i3s, so I went to the garage and stuck the old snow tires and wheels on only to discover they rub! The rubbing was only in the front, but was enough that I could not install them.

The reason that the regular i3 snow wheel set rubs is because BMW used a 10mm wider offset in the front and 15mm in the rear to help them achieve the 40 mm of increased track width for improved handling. This unique offset on the i3s is why our dedicated 19 inch Rial wheels and snow tires we used on our 2014 i3 wont work. We managed to overcame all these issues, with, drumroll please, spacers from an aftermarket tuner, ECS.

BMW in Europe still recommends running the same size snow tires 155/70/19s, so fixing the offset was the only thing that needed to be able to use our old wheels and snow tires. Given the choice, though, I’d buy the correct wheels because using spacers requires different longer lugs and are sometimes tricky to install and torque correctly.

I’ve found the i3s to quite stable in the snow and ice. It seems the increase track width and lower center of gravity give it more sure footing. We have had several snow storms and three days of ice, and the improved stance – being lower and wider- was definitely noticeable in the poor conditions. As all i3 models are rear-wheel drive, traction is extremely important and why we definitely recommend snow tires. I love going around sport utes that are stuck in the slick stuff. It never gets old. The must look at the little quirky i3 and think how in the world is it making it up the hill and my all wheel drive truck is not!

The i3s comes with 20 inch performance summer tires, if you plan on driving in winter weather snow tires are a must. We’ve compared the Bridgestone Blizzak LM-500 to the Nokian Hakkapeliita R2 in the past and have driven extensively in the snow on them in a BMW i3. For a full review, see here. Both are excellent snow tires and will get you through most anything. I’ve found the Nokians are softer and better at ice than the Blizzaks. If you drive a lot on the snow and not much on pavement, the Nokians are our choice. If however, you have a lot of highway driving and less snow, the Blizzaks would last longer.

BMW charges only $3,200 to bump from an i3 up to an i3s. In a base i3, 20” wheels are a $1300 option. Given that BMW adds 20” wheel to the i3s package anyway, the real difference is only $1900 for more power, improved traction control and better suspension. To me, going to an i3s over an i3 represents one of the best values BMW offers. All in all, the i3s is turning out to cope quite well with winter now that we have a snow tire solution. The extra range has made day to day use less stressful and the handling is outstanding.

We look forward to keep racking up the miles and will report back.

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#IFTTT #Performance Junk Blogger 6

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gta-5-cheats · 6 years

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DJI Mavic Air review

New Post has been published on http://secondcovers.com/dji-mavic-air-review/

DJI Mavic Air review

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The Mavic Air is a minor engineering marvel. The first time you set up DJI’s new drone it’s like trying to solve a puzzle box. You flip, you twist, you unfold.

The metal joysticks are safely nestled inside the flip-out arms of the controller, the landing gear safely nestled in the propeller arms. Not a millimeter is wasted, not even in the packaging. It’s the culmination of a dozen years of drone making experience — but really, it’s built directly on top of the company’s recent push to make the perfect consumer quadcopter.

More than anything, the Air feels like a refinement of the company’s first two folding drones, the Mavic Pro and Spark. It slots somewhere between its predecessors in terms of both sizing and price. But the device has the benefit of six additional months of hardware and software advancements, in some ways even besting the pricier Pro.

Like the Pro and Spark, the Air is another strong step toward a truly mainstream drone. But between the $799 starting price and some still idiosyncratic artifacts in the hardware and software design, it’s still a ways from the sort of plug and play setup the company is ultimately aiming for.

But hey, unlike our Pro and Spark reviews, this time things didn’t end too badly for either the reviewer or reviewee — so that certainly marks a positive step toward that ultimate goal.

Flight school

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There are plenty of lessons one can draw from GoPro’s latest stumble. Chief among them is the fact that drones are hard. When the action-camera maker opted to go it alone on its own folding drone, it clearly didn’t know what lay ahead. Shortly after hitting the market, the Karma drone began falling from the skies. GoPro ultimately worked out the issue, but the product appears to have become something of an albatross around its neck, with the company pulling out of the space altogether late last year.

By its own accounts, on the other hand, DJI had a hit with the Mavic Pro. During its press conference it touted it as the “best selling drone of all-time” — a bit of hyperbole, perhaps, but company clearly had enough confidence in the product to make the Pro the template for its future consumer products.

Introduced in May of last year, the $399 Spark was positioned as the drone for everyone, complete with gesture-based controls and special selfie-focused flight modes. Ultimately, I think, the company did itself a bit of a disservice with videos of people enjoying the Spark as though it was as easy to use out of the box as an iPhone. It’s just not. Among other things, there’s too much uncertainty when flying a tiny quadcopter through the air, even with the latest technological advancements on-board.

DJI insisted on giving us a quick crash course (so to speak) on drone operations before taking the Air out into the real world, and honestly, I’m glad they did. I’m not really an experienced pilot — so in some ways, I’m probably the target demographic here. The training consisted of walking through setup, learning the gesture controls and taking taking it through a quick demo in the company’s (thankfully) high-ceilinged New York office.

It’s a lot to take in — and quite frankly, I wasn’t sure I was ready to take it out into the world after 10 minutes or so of flight time. But DJI sent us on our way, along with a note to reach out when, invariably, we ran into an issue — which, of course, we did.

Field testing

The main reason I’m not generally the person who tests out drones here at TechCrunch is one of geography. Frankly, it’s a pain in the ass trying to find a spot in New York where it’s okay to test the things out. I’m glad. Sometimes I think about a future where everyone is flying around a personal drone around Manhattan, and it begins to resemble a sort of dystopian hellscape.

On DJI’s recommendation, we found a spot about an hour and a half north of the city. We rented a car, with TechCrunch video producer Veanne behind the wheel and her dog Henri on my lap in the passenger seat. We made it through the tangled maze of cars through Queens and the Bronx, finally making it out to the Moodna Viaduct, a large, grassy space suitable for piloting small crafts.

So, a couple of things before we get started here. First: if you do end up buying the Mavic Air, I highly recommend splurging a bit and going in for the aptly named Fly More Combo. For a limited time at least, it’s an additional $200. That price includes additional propellers, a carrying case, a charging hub and, most notably, two extra batteries.

That last bit is key. That the company has managed to get around 21 minutes of flight time on a charge is impressive for a drone of this size, but that doesn’t mean it’s not incredibly frustrating every time to get down to around a quarter of a tank and the emergency alarms go off, strongly suggesting you think about landing the thing soon. With three batteries, we were still only able to spend a fraction of our travel time in flight, but it didn’t feel like a loss. Twenty-one minutes total would have been unspeakably frustrating.

Speaking of, when we did finally get to the field and unfold the drone, open the controller and slot in my iPhone, the system wouldn’t let me fly due to a “Compass Error.” It’s not what you want to see, standing in 30-degree weather and high winds after an hour and a half in the car. DJI sent the following instructions:

Tap on the three dots in the upper-right corner of the DJI GO 4 app.

Select the top menu item that looks like the outline of a Phantom drone; a menu should come up that has two options: IMU and Compass

Tap Compass

Then tap Calibrate Compass

First, rotate the aircraft 360 degrees horizontally in the same position that it’s sitting on the ground

Next, point the drone vertically so that the gimbal camera is facing the sky; rotate it another 360 degrees

Thankfully, it worked, and we were up and running — but it was a friendly reminder of just how many things can go wrong. Naturally, the first thing I did was land it in a tree.

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Taking flight

I will say this: The Mavic Air is a rugged little bugger. I conveniently skipped the bit earlier where I attempted to fly the drone in my small New York City apartment and poor lighting caused it to slowly hover toward the wall, until one of the propellers winged the side and the whole thing sputtered to the ground. My point being, the Air was able to handle two minor collisions and was no worse for wear, besides a few dings on its propellers.

Take off, like much of the controls, is performed on the mobile app, accessed by plugging an iPhone or Android handset directly into the folding remote. You tap one icon and slide another to the right — an extra precaution to avoid accidental lift-offs. The on-board system will alert you if the drone isn’t level or if there’s an obstacle in the way. I found that the system actually did pretty well essentially weedwacking tall grass out of its way as it warmed up.

The two-joystick control scheme takes a little getting used to if you don’t have much flight time under your belt — another reason you’ll want some spare batteries, particularly the first few times you take flight. You’ll also want plenty of space. Sure, the drone is pint-sized, but I highly recommend you should give yourself a fairly wide berth for maneuvering the thing as you learn the control scheme.

It also took me a bit of time to get used to the idea of navigating through the on-board camera, rather than simply using line of sight. But with a 2.5-mile maximum distance, you’re going to have to get used to it sooner or later. The drone is zippy and responsive and managed to stay aloft quite well, in spite of some fairly strong winds on a cold winter day.

Oh, and make sure to bring those spare controller sticks with you. I had one pop off the remote during testing and lost it forever in the tall grass.

Complete control

I didn’t really have much use for the gesture controls once we finally made it outside. The features make sense with the Spark, where selfies are among the key uses, but when you get outside with the drone, you really want to fly the thing around. Responsiveness has been improved since the last generation, though like the joystick it takes some getting used to.

It also takes takes a bit of moving around to get the system to recognize your face and hands. Once it does, you can move the drone around with the wave of a hand, land it and get it to take photos and videos. It’s an impressive feature, but honestly, in the majority of cases, it’s probably little more than a novelty. As these devices continue to get smaller, cheaper and more user-friendly, however, it’s easy to see how gesture controls could ultimately become a handy feature.

The Quickshot flight modes are really the most impressive piece of the whole package. There are six in all, representing the ideal cross section of usability and output. You tap one (Asteroid, Boomerang, Rocket, Circle, Dronie or Helix), draw a rectangle around the subject you’d like to be the focal point, tap it and the drone sets out on a pre-programmed path.

The app automatically stitches together a scene into an impressive clip, complete with music. The two new modes, Asteroid and Boomerang, are the most impressive of the lot. Boomerang creates an ovular flight path, hooting round from the subject and returning to the same spot. Asteroid, meanwhile, creates a large spherical shot, mimicking the Earth as it shoots high up into the air.

There are a bunch of other notable new features on board as well, including slow motion video shots, pulled from 1080p video at 120 FPS and HDR shots for uneven lighting. There are old favorites on board as well, including ActiveTrack, which does a pretty solid job following moving subjects once you’ve locked them in. That was one of the big notable omissions from GoPro’s Karma — a pretty important feature for an action drone.

The app is pretty user-friendly after playing around with it for a few minutes and does a solid job outputting sharable videos. You also can just pull the raw MP4s from the 8GB of on-board memory or microSD.

The Air up there

Don’t let the ads fool you — these drones aren’t as user-friendly as a smartphone. And they’re certainly not idiot proof — take it from this idiot who landed the Air in a tree pretty much straight out of the box. Still, the latest DJI drone is an impressive combination of hardware and software in the company’s most accessible to date.

The Air is about as close as the market has to offer to a true entry-level drone that’s capable of capturing excellent video. It’s a worthy little gadget for photographers and videographers looking to add another tool to their arsenal.

It’s also a fun little gadget, once you get the hang of the navigation system — but at $799 (or, really, $999, let’s be honest), it’s still a pretty pricey tech toy.

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