#sleeping on the highway for the foreseeable future | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

downwiththeficness · 3 years

Text

A Need So Great Chapter 20

Summary: Eva Moore is assigned to work the last year of her contract with the DEA in Colombia. She just wants to get to the end of her tenure, but she keeps getting drawn further into a string of murders in the city. It isn’t long before she’s forced to face the ghosts of her past.

Word Count:~2,000

Warnings: None

A/N: For the purposes of this story, Carrillo isn’t married--or, if you like, divorced. A/B/O dynamics are prevalent, and they come with their own warning. The overall rating for this story is Explicit, although not every chapter will contain adult themes.

Taglist: @dirtynerdy98 @1zashreena1 @heresathreebee @deliciouslyclassytrash @maybege @kid-from-new-zealand @clydesducktape @revolution-starter @autumnleaves1991-blog @jedi-mando @buckysalefty @anaeve @maouzon

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 8.5, 9, 10, 10.5, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 21

Eva did her very best not to fidget. She’d been in this building before, though not on this particular floor. The unfamiliar location coupled with having never laying eyes on the person she was meeting with made her anxious. And, when she was anxious, she felt herself begin to fidget. She was sitting in the lobby, one high heeled foot bouncing over her crossed knee. The décor was taupe, which she heard could be very soothing. It did not soothe Eva.

A hand landed on her knee, warm and heavy, stopping her movement. She looked over at Horacio, breathing deeply. His scent—that was what would soothe her. She wondered if it would be acceptable to lean over in her chair and bury her nose in his neck. He’d probably take it in stride, but she feared the displeased looks from the others in the lobby. She’d had enough judgmental stares to last her a lifetime. There was no need to add to them.

Eventually, they were called back and led to a sterile office not far down the hall. The assistant ushered them to their seats and asked if they needed anything, an offer that was turned down. A few moments later, a man walked in hurriedly. He was dressed in a gray suit that was a little too big for him, a striped tie flapping with each step. Middle aged, hair silver enough to tell her that he’d started graying early, though he had a good hairline that was only just now beginning to recede. His belt didn’t match his shoes.

“I apologize for the delay, I was caught in a meeting that went a little long,” he said in that warm Southern drawl that Eva had completely forgotten existed. As he sat and picked up a pen, he continued, “I’m agent Richardson.”

Eva introduced herself and Horacio, smiling as congenially as she could. A firm grasp of her body kept her from bouncing her leg, but she did stutter a little. It had been a long time since she’d felt so utterly exposed.

“Agent Peña said that you’ve got evidence that could helpful in my investigation?”

Eva gave a stilted nod, scratching at the skin above her brow, “I do.”

Hands turning up in question, he prompted, “And?”

She hesitated. Everything that had been ingrained in her from an early age rebelled against talking with a federal agent, no matter how long she’d been working with them.

He noted her reluctance, “You’ve signed the immunity agreement. Anything you say here can’t be held against you, as long as you cooperate.”

Eva looked away, swallowing back the fear of going back to prison. She’d talked with Horacio about it on the flight over. He’d listened intently to her distrust of the government, had held her hand when she started to cry. And then, when her tears were dry, he assured her that, if push came to shove, he’d smuggle her out of the country. The contingency plan was already mostly formed. They’d packed lightly, and he had a set of forged passports sewn into his carry on.

“Ardent Pharmaceuticals,” she began. “I created their tax system, I initiated all their LLC licenses as of fifteen years ago. They have holdings in at least three off shore accounts, I can provide you with those account numbers and with the banks they’re associated with.”

Agent Richardson’s face was very still, Eva wasn’t sure that he was even breathing. After a moment, he said, “You’re confident you can get me that information.”

Eva licked her lips, pausing only a moment, “Yes. I can do that.”

He blinked, rolling the pen between his fingers, “Alright. Let’s get started.”

When they were walking out of the building, Eva’s heels clicking on the pavement, Horacio took her hand. Their hotel was maybe a few blocks away and the weather was pleasant for the time of year. A cool breeze rustled her hair, the smell of street food coming along with it. This was nice. Really nice.

She felt a kind of heavy relief flow out of her body, the muscles of her neck and shoulders loosening with every step. It might come back and bite her in the ass, but she’d done the right thing. She knew it, deep down.

Horacio transferred her hand to the other side, his now free arm wrapping around her middle. Their stride slowed a little. Eva didn’t mind at all.

“I love this skirt, you know?” he murmured, the pads of his fingers running along the waistband.

She remembered him telling her how much he loved this skirt the first night they’d slept together. Dreams, he’d said. Eva smiled, leaning into him.

“I do know,” she replied easily, not even bothering to hide the affection in her gaze.

He kissed her temple, leading her through the doors of the hotel. The air conditioning blew at her, a sharp contrast to the soft wind outside. She shivered despite Horacio’s warmth around her. He noticed, the arm at her waist rising up to encircle her shoulders. She touched his fingers briefly while they waited for the elevator.

“I’m proud of you.”

She looked up at him, “Why?”

He shrugged, “It wasn’t easy for you to go through all of that. We were in there for three hours, Eva. You dredged up every detail of your work to hide your in laws’ criminal activity like it was… nothing.”

Lips parting, she felt her brows come together, “Because it was nothing.”

The doors to the elevator opened and he ushered her inside. Tapping the button to their floor, he shot her a look that said he expected a further explanation. Eva chuckled, leaning back against the railing.

“This year has been...fantastic,” she started, eyes on the dusty ceiling of the carriage. “I never could have thought that I’d end up here, with you.”

A ding sounded and Eva walked ahead of Horacio, pulling him willingly along by the hand, “All those things I talked about, I’ve spent years working through them. I still think about it, yeah, and I still have to work on it. But, what that was in there? That was simple math. I need them to be so tied up legally that they don’t have the capital to pay another hitman. And, I needed to get a little vengeance—more vengeance—than I already had.”

Horacio keyed into their room, tossing the key onto the table near the door. Eva followed him, sitting on the bed to remove her shoes. Though they were comfortable, a few blocks’ walk had earned her some relief. She rubbed at the arch of her foot with her thumb.

Sitting next to her, he took her hand again, gazing carefully at her expression, “Its not your job to take down their entire enterprise.”

The steadiness of his gaze, the sincerity of his expression, was amusing. He had already made her out to be a little bit of a martyr, which was pretty much the opposite of what was happening.

Eva rolled her eyes, “I have no aspirations of that. I just want to make a little trouble.”

More than a little trouble. She wanted to breakdown their ability to make moves the way they had been doing for so long. She wanted them utterly impotent for the foreseeable future.

His smile reached his eyes, the corners crinkling, “I think you’ve achieved that.”

Not yet, she hadn’t. There was still the matter of the fallout and Eva did not trust in the effectiveness of the American government. She would have to watch from the sidelines as they worked—or, didn’t work. Either way. Eva very much wanted it to work.

“I’ll admit that it would be nice to see Myra in one of those prison jumpsuits.”

Thumb rubbing at her palm, Horacio seemed to be trying to picture it, “When it happens, I’ll see if I can get someone to take a picture, for posterity’s sake.”

He sat another moment longer, and Eva could tell that he had something to say and was trying to find the words. She lifted a brow, in silent invitation.

Pulling his lips between his teeth, he was quiet another moment before his hand tightened on hers, “I put in my resignation.”

Shocked, Eva could only say, “When?”

“Before we left.”

“Why?”

He blinked, head cocking to the side, “Because you were right. Because I’ll be dead very soon if I keep on doing this.”

It took about thirty seconds for Eva to get her mind about what he’d just said. In those thirty seconds, she made a few decisions, and maybe fell in love just a little bit more. They would have to take a detour before they got to the airport.

“What are you going to do next?”

His work was his entire life, it consumed almost every waking minute. The man probably made plans to arrest dealers in his sleep.

He shrugged, “I’ve got some loose ends I need to tie up, and then I thought we could make the decision together.”

Her jaw dropped a bit. He wanted to make plans. Together. He wanted to make plans—plans for the future—with her. Plans they could enact. Plans that didn’t involve looking over their shoulder for the rest of their lives.

Eva leaned over and kissed him, sniffing back the tears that threatened. Really, she hadn’t cried this much since the first year of her marriage. Happy tears, though, were always welcome.

In the cab the next day, Eva prompted the driver to pull off the highway a few exits early. When Horacio asked what they were doing, she simply smiled and patted his arm. The neighborhood she directed the driver to was...an acquired taste. The building that they stopped in front of was decrepit, nearly falling apart on its foundation. The place had once been the office of the mausoleum next door, but had fallen into disrepair when another office had been built on the other side. She was surprised the roof hadn’t completely caved in.

“Is this...safe?” he asked, eyes looking over the building skeptically.

Eva smiled again, unbearably amused at his choice of words, “Safe is one way to put it.”

She walked ahead of him, moving through the first floor to the back room. It was small, and part of the floorboards were missing. She had to hop from joist to joist to get to the cold air return vent. The years had taken a toll on the bones of the place, leaving the hinges off center. It took several grunting yanks to get the cover free so that she could reach into the vent and pull the bag free.

Covered in dust, but still whole, the black fabric was thin in some places from use. She’d had the thing since middle school, her name embroidered on one side. Evangeline, written in white thread that had turned yellow over the years. With shaking fingers, she traced the letters. It was the only thing she had from before she was married, everything else given up somewhere along the way. This, she was definitely holding onto.

“What is it?” Horacio asked from the door, his eyes scanning the room, mouth thin.

Eva looked up at him, “My retirement plan.”

Hopping across the joists towards him, she made her way to one of the few stable points in the front room, dropping the bag carefully. On one knee, she opened the zipper, spreading the fabric wide. Inside was every dollar she could skim from the till, about a hundred thousand in total.

Horacio was standing next to her, looking down at the stacks with pride in his eyes, “I knew you were smart.”

Glancing at him from behind her lashes, Eva grinned, “I’m practical.”

He chuckled, “Same thing.”

Zipping the bag back up, Eva swung it over her shoulder, “Needless to say, this will be my carry on.”

He quirked a brow at her, amused, “Is that all you have hidden?”

“Here, at least.”

There was another couple of bags hidden here and there, none with nearly this much in them. She would have to make plans to touch base in those locations before they finalized their...Eva paused a moment. They had plans, or they would.

She smiled, “This is enough for now, I think.”

He held out his hand to her, “Then, we should go. The meter’s running.”

31 notes · View notes

supertransural · 3 years

Text

thinking about dean cas and baby jack going on a road trip. dean’s used to being in the impala for long lapses of time, but it’s usually stressful, it’s tiring, it’s always in the expectancy of another job, another monster to be defeated. it’s always going from point A where a killer was killed to point B where another one awaits. it’s always about the job.

so this time, concentrating on the road as dusk was slowly creeping up on them, with cas dozing off beside him or maybe thinking hard about... something (this was cas after all, how was dean supposed to know what went on in his (his!! he still couldn’t believe that) angel’s head), squinting as always, his eyes almost shut; with 4yo jack in the backseat, drooling all over the fine black leather (if this wasn’t his kid, dean would’ve stopped the car already and thrown the child out just for this punishable-by-death-atrocity) and dreaming about a future dean gets to be a part of (goddammit how did he get so lucky), he was surprised when he didn’t feel the much-too-common tension in his shoulders. he felt... relaxed, yes that’s the word. it’s a word he was beginning to understand, a word that cas was teaching him how to feel.

a small smile cracked its way through dean’s face as he turned his attention back to the road. they were on their way to Louisiana, not set on a town yet. he may have been retired, but dean hadn’t lost his taste for adventure, so he had convinced his little family to just, wing it. he wondered if he should switch routes and see where the new one lead him, but that might upset cas who was really excited about eating the good food he’d heard his husband talk so much about. louisiana it is, then, he thought.

in the corner of his eye, he could see cas breathing deeply, no doubt already mapping out every possible resting spot for tonight, every corner store that sold kids food, maybe emergency stuff (cas could get a bit overwhelming when he listed off every single potential thing that may go terribly wrong with jack when they leave the safety of their house) or diners that cas deemed appropriate enough for their special kid. because he really was special, every smile, every laugh, every new drawing or string of words he puts together seemingly just so he can see his dads smile, every single thing this baby does is special. unique. and dean gets to see all those things, he gets to be there for everyone of them. jesus he’s getting emotional, should stop that now or cas will be teasing him about it for the rest of the trip. ok, deep breaths now, he thought. the road, the wheel in his hands, baby’s engine humming quietly. right. got it.

they packed frantically two days prior, because cas. jack was giggling the whole way through, observing them from his stool, since apparently dean looked really funny with peach fuzz he hadn’t had the time to shave yet (cas woke him up in a panic at 6am dammit) pink pajama shorts, his boots and a unicorn tshirt he only wore in cas’ presence (sam is a lovey kid, but hell if dean is ever going to let him see the collection of tshirts this one comes from). 4 suitcases, a couple inflatable duck-floaties, way too many towels, every single one of jack’s stuffed animals (except the little purple dinosaur one that jack was firmly holding onto during his inspection of his parents’ packing ordeal) and a thousand other useless things cas seemed to find essential to their survival.

“jesus, it’s only a couple weeks, honey!” dean had told him, trying to fit the last suitcase into the trunk of the impala (and miserably failing, to his own bitter disappointment).

“yes, a “couple weeks” within which we will apparently be doing things and going places we cannot foresee, as was your wish. i simply want to be prepared for any alternative your resourceful mind might come up with. and jack requires all his stuffies, he cannot sleep without counting each one of them before bed. you do not wish to see your child cry for two weeks, do you? you would not purposely cause him any pain, would you? right then the matter is settled. these items must find their way into this car you love so much, and i must attend to our son. his breakfast awaits!” cas had responded, mischievous smile growing larger with each sentence. “good luck!” he then added, giving dean a long and deep kiss, as if this was to be their last.

after a kiss like that, how was dean supposed to keep on complaining? he wasn’t, and that was exactly what cas intended, dean knew that. doesn’t mean he protested, or argued against his miraculous-bitch of a husband. so he had finished packing, muttering to himself, but unable to push down the grin that cas’ kiss had brought upon his face. or the flush of his cheeks for that matter.

here he was, happy as he’d ever been, relaxed for the first time ever while being on a long drive (first of many times, he hoped), with the love of his life on his right side, and the other light of his existence in the backseat, little hands still clutching the purple dinosaur.

“hey.” he heard a raspy and sleepy voice say. cas had indeed been asleep for the past 30 minutes.

“good morning, sleepyhead!” answered dean, chuckling.

he looked at cas’ beautifully hazy face, his icy blue eyes shining in the pink-orange light of the fading sun. god, how could this man be his, and how could dean ever refuse him anything. he reached out his right hand to place it on cas’ left thigh, stroking it lovingly in round patterns with his thumb. smiling at him, he wondered if giving him a quick kiss would cause his husband to start lecturing him again (for the thousandth time probably) about driving safely when jack was in the car.

fuck it, he thought. he glanced at the empty road, and lunged quickly towards cas before the former angel could refuse, and placed his lips on his for a few seconds. grinning to himself as he sat back, directing his gaze back to the highway, he waited for cas’ annoyed voice, no doubt already preparing a stern talking-to and threatening him to rat him out to the police to get his license taken away (not that it would matter, dean still had all his fake ID’s in a secret box back home, carefully tucked between baby clothes and pacifiers at the bottom of a drawer).

“dean.” cas started, a frown already carved into his forehead.

“oh no you don’t” dean cut him off. “if you lecture me, jack’s gonna feel it and he’ll wake up from what seems to be a very pleasant dream. save it for the hotel room, i know a few ways you can make me feel the weight of my wrongdoing.” he added with a wink.

cas turned to look at his son, still happily asleep in the back. frown disappearing, a sweet smile starting to lighten his expression (wow, he really could just look that magnificent whenever he felt like it) he turned back to face his partner.

“fine. just because he’s asleep. where are we?” cas said, squinting disapprovingly, then yawning silently.

“just passed the northern border of arkensas.” answered dean with a sigh. “gonna be a pretty boring drive from here on out”.

“i see. there’s a motel not far from here, with a town nearby where we could find sustenance, appropriate for jack too.” cas said, not even looking at his phone: he’d memorized each town’s location, every name of every motel, roadhouse, diner that they might encounter, because he was like that. and god did dean love him for it. “it’s getting a bit late, and i would rather see jack in a bed tonight than sleeping in the car” he remarked. “no offense to her” he added hurriedly when he felt dean’s glare after what could be interpreted as an insult to his baby.

“alright. when’s the exit for this town of yours?” dean asked absentmindedly.

“15 more miles, i believe.” cas answered, propping up an elbow on the windowsill.

“cool. tell me when you see it, i might forget, with you looking so handsome right next to me and all. tired father really is a good look on you.” dean whispered with a side smile.

“oh stop it. jack is right there.” cas answered, chuckling and fiddling with his wedding ring.

they stared at each other, peace settling comfortably between them.

“you know i love you, right?” said dean, without a hint of humor in his voice.

“yes, you’ve taken the habit of telling me, roughly 28 times a day, give or take.” joked cas as he saw dean scowl. “i love you too, now and forever, when the seas rise and swallow the land, when the heavens fall and the stars burn out, i will still love you, the only light that ever mattered, the first soul i ever really saw, the one i followed to hell and back. but you already knew that, right?” cas uttered with warmth, with the same voice he’d used at their wedding.

“jesus, cas. if you’re not careful, i might just end up falling for you. oh wait, i already did.” answered dean, face reddened and heart full. this is where he belonged.

dean’s hand was still on cas’ thigh, and their gazes were still locked together when jack woke from his sleep in an adorable mumble. he immediately started babbling to his fathers about the dream he had had (probably making up new details, but you could never know with that kid). as the family laughed together, dean looked to his window, and time stilled for a split second.

he saw a ghost of who he was, staring back at him in his reflection, eyes glossy with tears (joy? terror? sadness? love? hate? too hard to tell). the face in the makeshift mirror seemed to ask “is this really what is coming? will i truly get to where you are one day?”. dean smiled, nodding a silent “yes, yes you will. in time.” and the face faded away slowly, a little less scared than it had seemed at first.

when he looked back towards his husband and his son, his own eyes were glossy too.

“what’s wrong?” cas asked, worried.

“nothing, i’m just happy.” dean answered, wiping away a tear that was slipping down his cheek with a sure smile. “i’m just... happy.”

they drove until cas pointed at the exit, ate, and fell asleep contentedly.

18 years ago, dean dozed off without the need for strong booze in the very same motel, and the same tear (joy, maybe?) danced down his face into the pillow. a low hum of a voice saying “in time” ringing brightly in his mind, he fell asleep into the deepest slumber he’d ever gotten. “all will be well”, a voice kept repeating.

#oof ok this was supposed to be a short post about a fun road trip #i’m thinking i need to get better at writing so i can turn this into an actual fic #anyways imma be thinking about this for the rest of this evening bye #spn #supernatural #destiel #cas #dean #dean winchester #deancas #bidean #baby jack #ficlet

9 notes · View notes

aion-rsa · 3 years

Text

Space Sweepers and the History of Working Class People In Space

https://ift.tt/eA8V8J

This week saw the release of Space Sweepers, Korea’s first big budget special effects space movie extravaganza. There are a lot of interesting things to say about this movie, but one of the things that makes it stand out is it’s an excellent portrayal of people in space who are skint.

See, I hate to break it to you, but you’re probably never going into space. Unless you’re a highly trained technical specialist (well done!) or a billionaire (pay your taxes!), your best shot at seeing Earth from space within your lifetime is the development of realistic-yet-cheap VR headsets.

And the thing is, a lot of the time this holds up in sci-fi as well. Space travellers are either living in a post-scarcity utopia, are part of the military, or are some kind of genius scientists.

Even where we see supposedly salt-of-the-Earth relatable types, like Han Solo or Mal Reynolds, their scruffy outfits and roguish ways can’t quite cover for the fact that they own and live in the equivalent of a massive luxury yacht or private plane. Serenity may look like a rust bucket, but it’s far from the equivalent of a white van, and while Mal is constantly complaining about the costs of fuel and repairs, that doesn’t change the fact that he seems to own the ship outright, and in “Oxygen” he appears ready to buy the ship for cash.

As for Han Solo, leaving for a moment his humble origins and that he won the ship in a card game, within the Galaxy Far Far Away the ratio of space travellers to non-space travellers doesn’t seem that different from the one on Earth. Yes, there are lots of smugglers and Tie-fighter pilots and interplanetary bounty hunters, but for every one of them there are millions of Tusken sand raiders, Jawa scrap merchants, moisture farmers and Corellian street rats. Spacecraft might come and go from the spires of Coruscant as regularly as buses, but the population density is such that most people on that planet will be lucky to see sunlight, let alone the stars.

Meanwhile, back in the real world, the chances of an ordinary person getting into space even in the foreseeable future vary between Willy Wonka Golden ticket level lucky, or truly dystopian. On the one hand, Elon Musk has announced the first all-civilian mission to space, led by billionaire Jared Isaacman (so, not what you’d call an everyman), two seats given to people who have won a place by donating to St Jude’s Hospital (it probably won’t be one of the smaller donors), and finally, one lucky front-line health worker.

But Elon Musk wants to colonise Mars, and sadly billionaires still need people to clean the toilets, so Musk has other ideas for how ordinary people might get into space. Unfortunately that idea is indentured slavery, demonstrating that the most prescient science fiction writers of our generation are the writers of first-person shooters.

This is why, outside of post-scarcity-fully-automated-luxury-space-communism, and the military, science fiction is always oddly quiet about money. With a few honourable exceptions.

We Just Work Here

The first and most obvious reason why any ordinary working-class person would end up in space is “they’re paid to”.

Pretty much the codifier of working-class people in space is Alien. The crew of Nostromo aren’t scientists, they’ve not got The Right Stuff. Nobody on that ship is getting a high school named after them. The crew of the Nostromo are basically truck drivers who venture off the highway and run into something nasty. Yes, ironically they show a great deal more competence, professionalism and intelligence in encountering an alien threat than the actual scientists in the prequel movie, but the first conversation these characters have when they come out of hyper sleep is about money. From the outset, these are people in a place of work.

It’s a model that set the format for gritty-industrial-working-class-people in space movies going forward for better or worse. Event Horizon just lifts Alien’s aesthetic completely for the rescue ship Lewis & Clark, as does the videogame series Dead Space, like Alien, set aboard a mining ship.

Away from the horror genre, Outland sees Sean Connery play sheriff in a final frontier mining town that could have taken place in the same world as Alien.

And of course, Red Dwarf, which not only made good use of the Alien aesthetic, but also cast the colony commander from Aliens as their Captain, to tell the story of chicken soup repairmen in space.

Across all of these stories, and of course the aforementioned videogames, the life of the blue collar space traveller is an unpleasant one, exploited by a company that not only controls your life while you work, but also owns all of your food, water and air. Indeed, it’s not rare for them to go further. In Moon, another film where the spacemen-to-earthmen ratio seems not far what it is now, Sam Bell’s employer decides to save the cost of training employees and ferrying them back and forth from Earth to the Moon by taking one employee and filling a cellar full of his pre-programmed, short-lived disposable clones.

Space Sweepers

Public Transport

But maybe you don’t want to work for “the Man”, not an unwise call given the Man is probably trying to feed you to something horrible in the hope of creating a new bioweapon. One surprisingly under-utilised method of getting into space is public transport.

In The Fifth Element, Bruce Willis plays a special-forces-operative-turned-cab-driver who, as part of his cover, wins a ticket to go on a space cruise. Although looking at the sets and the extras in this movie, as well as the packed-in-as-tightly-as-we-can apartments back on Earth, one gets the impression this is not an option open to the majority of working joes.

Perhaps the best example of this is in the shockingly under-loved 2018 flick, Prospect, featuring future Mandalorian Pedro Pascal.

In Prospect, the spaceship is little more than a rotating framework filled with cargo containers in front of a massive engine. The father and daughter prospecting team are on board a lander that resembles nothing so much as an old Apollo Lunar Lander on the inside, and as the mothership approaches their destination the ship doesn’t even stop, it just releases the lander, tells them when the ship is going to be passing back that way and warns them the line is being terminated, so there won’t be another ship passing that way.

This is a model it would be fantastic to see more of. The landing module is small enough that it’s entirely plausible that even these not-very-well-off characters could buy, hire or rent one. Rather than having the freedom of the space ways like Mal or Han, their travel options are entirely restricted by what destinations are profitable for large shipping companies and whether they’ll let you tag along. And while on the surface the aesthetic looks a bit Alien, in truth it feels far more like it’s cobbled together from relics of the actual space age.

Borrow Your Way Into Space

And finally, of course, there’s the Elon Musk solution. Borrow your way into space. One of the early places to use this idea was Gateway, by Frederik Pohl. Frederik Pohl in particular is fantastic at writing science fiction worlds where people actually have to worry about money. In Gateway and its sequels humanity has discovered Ancient Aliens left a space station nearby, stocked with a lot of spaceships. Being alien technology, humans can’t control the ships accurately, they’re limited pretty much to pressing the “Stop” and “Go” buttons, and when the ship flies off it might land on a world of fabulous riches, or it might chuck you into the heart of a star.

Prospectors who want to try their luck in these ships have to take out a loan to get to the station, and throughout the novel the protagonist is constantly aware of how many credits are in his account.

Which brings us back around to Space Sweepers. At first glance the Space Sweepers set-up might seem similar to that of the Millennium Falcon or Serenity – an extremely “used” looking ship run by a rag-tag bunch of misfits. But the first time we see the protagonist, Tae-ho, he’s in a pawn shop. As soon as he gets back to the ship we learn the crew are still paying off the cost of the ship, as well as the costs of repairs and parts.

We see an awful lot of “Space sweepers” throughout the film, junk collectors gathering up salvage from Earth’s orbiting collection of derelict spacecraft and defunct satellites. But these people don’t seem like roguish space pirates, the impression they give is more akin to app-based gig workers.

This is compounded by another issue – that to work in space you need a visa, with citizenship limited to the wealthy few who are able to afford a place on the deluxe orbiting space habitats.

Everything in Space Sweepers is driven by money, whether it’s Tao-Ho’s attempts to raise enough money to find his daughter, the robot, Bubs, and her attempt to get a humanoid body that reflects her gender, and of course, the $2 million reward for “Dorothy” which drives the whole plot.

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

Often space-based sci-fi is about the fantasy of freedom, of exploration. Even shows like Star Trek give us characters whose job isn’t much more than to fly around having adventures. But there is rich storytelling to be done about the people who have to clean the space toilets.

Chris Farnell’s novella series, Fermi’s Progress, is about a ship whose FTL drive vaporises planets, and features at least one space traveller who isn’t a scientist, super soldier or billionaire (although to be fair the other three characters are exactly that). You can find part one here.

The post Space Sweepers and the History of Working Class People In Space appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/375jTzb

#aion-rsa #Den of Geek

6 notes · View notes

taexual · 5 years

Text

HOLIC - 40 | jb x reader

pairing: Im Jaebum x Reader

genre: enemies to lovers au | roommate au

warnings: angst

words: 5.2k

disclaimer: i do not own the gif, please let me know if it belongs to you, so i can give proper credit

prev / next

The leisurely contract did entail a couple of rules – that Jiho was kind enough to point out before you added your signature – such as not attending any public events with anyone other than him during the “PR process” as he’d dramatically called it. To be fair, you didn’t understand that part – if making a name for yourself meant causing unnecessary rumors, then wouldn’t this whole process go much faster if you were seen with not one, but multiple people at photography events? But this was probably where the loyalty – mentioned in the contract a couple of dozen times – came in. They’d probably be okay if you went out with some of the other staff members from the gallery as long as they weren’t complete outsiders.

In the end, the few rules weren’t enough for you to call the police instead of signing the contract, and, another moment later, Jiho was already ordering champagne -- which you refused even if a few glasses would have surely helped you get through the rest of your day.

Your head hurt when you left the restaurant and returned to your own gallery to get back to work. You always dreaded the end of lunch break – it was probably natural for humans to hate having to go back to work – but this time, as you tip-toed on the edge of a new life, going back to work—returning to your old routine—was something you welcomed and even looked forward to.

Avoiding a group of children on tour with their teacher, you popped into the staff room for a moment to grab your electronics and take your jacket off, and then replied to Jaebum’s text that was inquiring about your plans tonight. You had none. You just wanted to sleep until you were miraculously hosting your exhibition while Jaebum’s album played in the background and all was well.

Deep inside, though, you were hoping Jaebum was going to say something that would make you forget your wish to hibernate for the rest of your life. He wanted to say something like that, too – and if he’d known how you were feeling, he would have – but he had a different obligation now; an obligation that he apologized for – because he couldn’t invite you with him, – but an obligation nonetheless.

The agency he’d just signed with had invited him and Jackson out for dinner and celebratory drinks later. Even if you wanted to, you couldn’t have asked him not to go there. This dinner was probably as important as the first meeting itself; Jaebum was given even more chances to impress his new employers. It was good. It would make sure that his road towards success wasn’t just a sandy path, but rather a solid highway that was able to endure any storm and hurricane that might threaten it.

With a heavy sigh, you turned around to return to work but not before checking in with your friends. It was unfair of you to rely on Jaebum so much, anyway, so, to avoid truly locking yourself up in your room for the foreseeable future, you were going to need someone to keep you company and, perhaps, tell you if the decision you’d made—the contract you’ve signed—was a mistake or not.

You’d texted your friends’ groupchat, looking for company but, as always, May – the youngest – was the only one who was free to get drunk on a Tuesday night. And, as if she had some magical telepathic powers, she immediately offered her listening services. Although, to be fair, the number of crying emojis you’d used when texting her might have been a huge hint.

Smiling at May’s eager approval to meet up tonight, you took a mental note to be a better friend to your friends – you suddenly weren’t sure if they were so independent that they just never needed your help, or if you just weren’t there for them, – and headed back out into the gallery, ready to spend the rest of the day focusing on crowds of children, high university students, and snobby customers. Somehow, all of that still put you in a better mood than the lunch you’ve had with Jiho earlier.

For the first time since Jaebum introduced you to Mark, you managed to show up to his bar when he wasn’t working. You shot him a quick text while you waited for May to show up and learned that he was going to work today, after all, but his shift wouldn’t start until nine. That left you plenty of time to get drunk before he got here.

Somehow, even though you knew Mark much shorter than you knew the rest of your friends, he had become one of the most reliable people in your life – but, then again, perhaps, being reliable was one of the traits every bartender had to have. Still aware of Jaebum’s strong reaction about your and Mark’s friendship back in the day – even if Jaebum did change his mind later on – you weren’t brave enough to openly address the bartender as your friend but, in spite of everything, he still felt like one.

“Hey, I’m here!” May’s rushed voice was suddenly by your ear as your friend leaned in for a quick hug and sat down on the stool next to yours. “I might have just escaped a serial killer on my way over here.”

You never knew with May – she tended to exaggerate – but your eyes still widened in surprise. “What do you mean?”

“I called a cab,” she began to explain after making eye contact with the bartender-on-duty and earning a nod from him, “and the driver turned out to be the creepiest man I’ve ever seen. I swear, he’s Freddy Krueger’s long-lost brother. Even looked a little like him. He asked me when I was going to go home and if he should pick me up as if that’s something that normal taxi drivers do.”

“Shit, I hope he’s not waiting for you outside of the bar.”

“No, no, I waited until he drove away,” May said, still breathing heavily. She looked like she’d sprinted over here. “Otherwise, I would have called the police.”

“You need to get a license,” you reprimanded her for the umpteenth time.

“I do,” she admitted like she always did. “But, then again, what would I do with it? I’d only use it to drive to class and back.”

“Hey, I only use mine to drive to work,” you replied. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Yeah, but, hey, speaking of driving,” May smiled and then was forced to pause when the bartender came over to take your orders and make you your drinks. “You’ve got yourself a chauffeur for a boyfriend. That’s cute.”

“He’s not my chauffeur,” you shook your head, having nothing against the particular occupation and yet feeling as if calling Jaebum your chauffeur was offensive. You didn’t really pay him for his services—although…—so it sounded like you were using him.

“I want to ask how the roadtrip went,” she stopped to take a sip of her martini. Her love for gin was unrivaled. “But, since we’re drinking tonight, I guess, it didn’t go that well.”

You sighed, toying with the slice of lemon on the side of your cocktail glass. “No, it went well. Really well, actually. It’s… it’s what happened after that’s forcing me to turn to alcohol.”

“Did you fight again?”

“No. But that’s in the future, I’m sure.”

And then you told her about everything that happened after you opened the door of that damn gallery – a true devil’s lair protected by the remarkably pleasant administrators – starting from the surprise you felt when you saw that Jiho was the one who’d made sure you got the interview, and finishing with the meeting you’ve had to endure earlier today.

Of course, as you spoke, you ended up having to take detours from the main story and introduce May to Jiho – since, by a weird coincidence, she wasn’t aware of what had gone down between you two – but you felt like you’ve lost twenty kilograms of weight off your shoulders when you finished talking.

May listened patiently, not moving at all – aside from tipping her head back to finish her drink in one big gulp as soon as you wrapped the story up.

“That’s one big load of information,” she admitted, her head bursting with so many new facts. “That was extremely unlucky. I’m sorry. Did a black cat cross your road every morning for the past week?”

You scoffed. “No. That’s what I get for daring to consider myself blessed to get that interview with the gallery in the first place. There’s no such thing as—”

“No, that was blessed,” May said. “Even if it’s Jiho who sought you out. I mean… I don’t know. I don’t like the guy, either. Anyone who doesn’t mind the negative image of themselves in the media is suspicious to me but maybe getting some exposure won’t be that bad.”

“But unlike him, I do care about my image,” you continued pointlessly.

The contract was signed, there wasn’t really a way to back out now. And yet you kept on talking as if hoping to hear comforting words. As if hoping to hear May tell you that you hadn’t just made the biggest mistake of your life.

“I get that,” she said. “It’s why you’ve hesitated before signing the contract, isn’t it? Because this sounds ideal. I know I’m supposed to become an architect after I graduate but, hell, if I got an offer like that, I’d agree to switch to photography.”

You have her a sarcastic look. “Want to trade places?”

May scoffed. “As if you’d ever allow that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You didn’t really agree to do this for yourself,” she concluded. “You mostly agreed for Jaebum.”

“What?” you frowned, feigning confusion even though your heart had picked up speed, catching on faster than your mind did. “I don’t understand—”

“You understand very well,” she cut you off with a shake of her head. “I can see right through you, you know.”

You knew. Of course, you knew. Even strangers would have been able to tell what you were feeling but May was one of your closest friends – not to mention, she was the kind of person that would have been able to crack the toughest spine of the most complicated book. If she was the one who’d moved in with Jaebum, she’d have gotten him to open up in just a few days, guaranteed.

“You signed the contract because he signed his,” May concluded. “Isn’t that right?”

“Well…” you looked away, swallowing. “It may have encouraged me. But I’m not doing this for him. I’m doing this for myself.”

“No, but you mean photography,” she said. “You’re doing photography for yourself. You’re thinking of hosting an exhibition for yourself. But you’re agreeing to work with Jiho for Jaebum. Because this isn’t something that you’d do. You’re going to have to pretend to be Jiho’s friend, his colleague, and whatever the hell the media assumes you are – and pretending to be someone you’re not is not something you’d do voluntarily. You’re just not good at that.”

“Thanks,” you said dryly.

May gave you a kind smile in return. “You’re good at being yourself, sweetheart.”

Somehow, even though she was younger than you, the endearing term softened your heart. It also made you feel like you were the younger one but that wasn’t a new feeling. If you caught May at the right moment – that is, a glass of martini in hand and a suffering friend by her side – she was wise beyond her years.

“Everything is going so well for him,” you couldn’t help but say, the words pouring out of your chest faster than you could learn how to stop them. They sounded stupid when said aloud and yet you still said them because that was what you were feeling and feelings didn’t always make sense. “I don’t want him to feel like he’s leaving me behind when he starts to make it and I’m still stuck in the same place.”

May nodded – that was what she’d suspected all along – and, after ordering another round of drinks – even if you were still only halfway done with yours – she placed a reassuring arm around your shoulders, leaning over the bartop to be closer to you.

“There will be other opportunities in the future if you’d prefer to wait,” she said softly. “You’re talented.”

“Yeah, but there are lots of talented people,” you replied. “I’m nothing special.”

“You—”

“Oh, May, it’s your job to call me special,” you interrupted before she could say anything, “you’re my friend.”

May retreated, smiling playfully. “I wasn’t going to call you special.”

“Oh,” you looked at her, surprise and embarrassed anger mixing in your blood. “Well, you should have. That’s the nice thing to do.”

“Yeah, but you wouldn’t be listening to me if I’d come here to tell you nice things,” she pointed out.

She was right but you still sighed, “I’m not sure I prefer the cold hard truth right now, to be honest.”

“You’re just going to have to deal with it,” she decided and then proceeded to tell you all that you needed to hear and more, “your own attitude towards this is exactly what’s the problem. You don’t think you’re special and that’s why you’re agreeing to do this. You need to sit down, convince yourself that you’re the most extraordinary person in this whole world and any gallery would be lucky to have you. You don’t have to do it this way. And then, once you’ve managed to convince yourself, you can drop Jiho, forget all about him and his half-assed attempts to get you both popularity, and go home to make love to your singer boyfriend.”

You shuddered, giving her the most disgusted expression you could muster even though your chest was full of nothing but gratitude.

“I was going to say you should be a motivational speaker,” you said, the first traces of a smile appearing on your face, “but I’m afraid you just made me cringe into the next year.”

“Come on, I’m serious,” May continued but she was beginning to smile, too. “Have a little more faith in yourself. I know it’s easier said than done but if you’re not going to work on your confidence, then you might as well just go through with this whole ordeal. Maybe having your first exhibition – under whatever circumstances – will open your eyes so you can see how wonderful of an artist you are.”

Her words got you to quit playing with the sad slice of lemon on your drink and finish the cocktail inside of the glass instead.

“I thought you weren’t going to be nice and would hit me with the cold truth,” you told your friend then.

“I am hitting you with the cold truth,” May replied. “You’re a good person and a great photographer. Do whatever it takes to prove that to yourself.”

She was right, of course. Before you proved your worth to everyone else, you needed to prove it to yourself. You’ve helped Jaebum out of his seemingly bottomless pit of insecurities about his music, but you were drowning in a similar pit yourself. You weren’t alone, though. You had your friends who were there to throw you a rope in case the deep water of your anxiety threatened to swallow you whole and, if you’d just told Jaebum about this, you knew he’d be here for you, too.

But he had so much going on already. He’d just released his first song. Just signed his first contract. Just went to his first formal dinner with his new employers. He was already riding on the highway to his future while you hitchhiked, hoping that a passing car would pick you up and help you follow after him. You didn’t like this way – you didn’t want to depend on anyone on your way to your dreams – but, right now, this seemed to be the only way to get to your destination at the same time as Jaebum got to his. Not years – or, worse, decades – later.

You’d just have to find a way to believe in yourself while you tore out a few pieces of your soul to be able to follow Jiho around without killing him on sight.

“Will you have my back if everything backfires and all that I’ve worked for explodes in my face?” you asked May then.

“No,” she replied, “because I don’t want to get burnt, too.”

You rolled your eyes just as the bartender brought you a new round of drinks. “A true friend you are.”

“I will visit you in the hospital, though,” May promised. “I’ll bring flowers.”

You laughed. For the first time since you’ve left the house today, you genuinely laughed. And you were suddenly overwhelmed with affection for your friend because, for the first time since that visit to the gallery, now you felt like you weren’t committing a huge, horrible crime. Perhaps you just needed to talk to someone and, having May listen to you and reassure you in the most realistic words she could manage to find, worked as a medicine of sorts.

You still felt a thick heaviness inside of your chest – you didn’t need just anyone to talk to; really, you needed Jaebum – but it didn’t feel so suffocating anymore. Maybe, as long as your mind remained on this moment, you’d survive this.

“You look like you’re going to start crying,” May observed, breaking you out of your thoughts. “Should I be worried about something else?”

“No,” you shook your head, inhaling deeply and then giving her a smile. “I’m just glad you’re here. Tell me how school is going. Fewer asshole professors this semester, I hope?”

“Oh, boy,” May rolled her eyes before finishing her cocktail and breaking into a story about her day-to-day life, never once abandoning her sense of humor as she complained about her deadlines.

You listened, nodding along and smiling whenever it was appropriate, because listening to her talk wasn’t just a wonderful distraction. It was also something you truly wanted to do.

A couple of hours later, both you and May were already preparing to head out but then you saw Mark arrive. Deciding to stay back for a few moments to help him get started on his shift – he asked you to, claiming that the biggest bartender superstition was that, if no one ordered a drink within ten minutes of the start of their shift, the night wasn’t going to go well – you waved May goodbye and then walked her out to wait for the cab with her so the creepy driver from before wouldn’t show up again.

Once you went back inside, however, Mark was already pouring a drink for someone else.

“Looks like you don’t need me, after all,” you joked, sitting down in your old spot.

“No, but it looks like you need me,” he countered. “How long have you been here?”

“A few hours. Why?”

“You don’t look drunk in the slightest,” he said. “The only people who stay at a bar for this long and don’t get drunk are either psychopaths or people who are suffering from something that’s way beyond the superficial level. I’d say you’re sane enough, so which kind of existential crisis are we dealing with tonight?”

“Bartender sociology 101, huh?” you teased but after Mark showed no signs of playing along – he genuinely wanted to know what was going on with you – you ended up having to find a way to tell him all that you’ve just told May.

Except, Mark was Jaebum’s friend. You felt bad telling his friend about Jiho before you told him, but you’ve stumbled into a situation where the opposite wasn’t possible, considering that you didn’t have enough courage to run away from the bar and find Jaebum right this moment, and Mark obviously wasn’t going to let you leave unless you told him what was up first.

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” you admitted, still hesitant. “Because I haven’t talked to Jaebum about it.”

“I’m a bartender,” Mark said. “No one keeps secrets as well as I do.”

“No, of course, but—”

“Are you pregnant?”

You paused. “No.”

“Then we have no problem with you telling me first,” he shrugged. “Especially if it’s a loaded conversation that you’re not prepared to have with him yet.”

“It is,” you confirmed. “A-and, actually, maybe you could help me find a way to tell him about this.”

Mark wasn’t sure he would – apparently, he struggled with talking to Jaebum as much as you did sometimes – but he allowed you to open up anyway. He did have to ask you to pause for a moment while he poured drinks for the other customers, but, other than that, he listened to the story of your trip to Jiho’s gallery with great interest. A concerned expression remained on his face all throughout your monologue.

Once you’d finished, you expected Mark to give you a lecture – the look on his face was indecipherable by the time you mentioned signing the contract – but, instead, he just sighed, finished wiping the bartop, and leaned on it on his elbows.

“I don’t think you’re doing anything that’s inherently wrong,” he spoke but the slight shake in his voice was a subtle indication that he didn’t think he should have been saying that. “It’s just a somewhat conflicting way to start off your career, but, look – at least, you’re not sleeping with anyone.”

“I’d never do that,” you shook your head. “I have my limits.”

“Well, see? Then I don’t think it’s that bad,” he said, pulling away. “You only have to show up at a few events and then you can host your exhibition. That’s what you’ve been working for and that’s what you will get to do.”

“Yes, but it’s Jiho I’m supposed to show up to those events with.”

Mark considered this.

“Don’t think of it like that,” he said after a moment. “I mean, you and him are both photographers, right? So, even if you weren’t going to go out with him in public, you would probably still run into him at some event sooner or later. And, since you know each other, chances are, he would come over to talk to you. You would have to be civil since you’re both in a public place. And maybe reporters would catch you two talking. Maybe one particularly shitty journalist would even snap a picture and write an article about a-a ‘budding love affair’ between two aspiring photographers. These type of things happen without your consent all the time.”

He had a good point that left you hesitating for so long, Mark ended up having to leave you alone for another moment so he could serve a new customer.

“This feels different, though,” you said once he was back, “because now I’m purposefully waiting for that shitty journalist to do just that.”

“It’s for the greater good,” Mark said. “Or, rather, for a greater future.”

You chewed on your lip. “You really think so?”

For the first time since you’ve finished your story, Mark was the one hesitating before replying. Your stomach sunk lower and lower with every second that passed before he spoke again.

“Not really,” he admitted finally, lifting his apologetic gaze from the floor to look at you, “but that’s not what you want to hear.”

“No, no, don’t tell me what I want to hear,” you asked as a typhoon of anxiety washed over your insides. “Tell me what you really think.”

“I think you should talk to Jaebum.”

You should have seen it coming.

“Yeah?” you asked awkwardly.

“Mmhmm,” Mark nodded. “Because I don’t think that this way of getting your name out there is bad in itself. The bad thing is you keeping this a secret from Jaebum. That makes this into a bigger deal than it really is.”

That was true. If things hadn’t escalated so badly – if you hadn’t reached a point where Jaebum seemed to hate Jiho with a burning passion – he might have even supported you through this. Perhaps he wouldn’t approve – he did showcase some relatively possessive tendencies, although they never bordered on the extreme – but he wouldn’t dismiss just the very thought of you doing this.

“He would never agree to it,” you decided miserably. “He’d never let me do it.”

Mark seemed surprised to hear this. “Does he control you?”

“W-well, no. Of course not,” you said, unsure how to explain what you meant. “I-I… I just—I care about him a lot and I don’t want to fight with him.”

“If this is something that’s going to start a fight,” he said, “then maybe there’s something wrong.”

You didn’t understand what he meant. “With… with us?”

Mark shrugged his shoulders. “You tell me.”

You looked down. Deep down, you knew what he meant. In any hypothetical situation, if there was something that one person wanted to keep from another, it was likely that this thing – this secret – involved the first person doing something that wasn’t right. Wasn’t appropriate. Something that would damage their relationship.

Your head was suddenly as heavy as your heart was.

“I can’t tell you anything,” you answered. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“You signed the contract, didn’t you?” Mark asked, his voice more sympathetic when he noticed how dull your normally bright eyes looked. “Just try to go through with it. Like Jiho had said, it’s a business relationship and you have the legal papers to prove that if you should ever need to.”

You looked up at him. “You mean… prove that to Jaebum?”

“I mean, if you’re not going to tell him, and you’re hoping that this will just pass quietly—”

“I’m not sure it will. We’re talking about the media, after all—”

“Oh, love, don’t get offended,” Mark shook his head, not letting you finish, “but I don’t know a single person who would be interested in news about photographers aside from other photographers. I couldn’t care less about who Tyler Mitchell is dating or what he does in his free time – I only care about the pictures of Beyonce that he took – but Jackson was here the other day, trying to get me interested in that photographer-related gossip because he’d met Mitchell while traveling and the guy was, apparently, holding hands with someone.”

You felt your own interest in this conversation increase tenfold at the mention of the photographer’s name but Mark was obviously not going to elaborate – he nearly yawned just as he was giving you the abbreviated version – so you just nodded instead.

“You have a point,” you said, suddenly feeling the first bits of relief. “News like that probably wouldn’t even reach Jaebum.”

The bartender narrowed his eyes, asking slowly, “are you considering not telling him at all?”

Honesty was painful now as you replied, “I don’t know.”

“Okay, good,” he said, his voice rushed as if he was afraid you’d continue talking before he finished. “Don’t tell me what you decide then. I’ve already gotten more involved than I’m comfortable. I can’t support your decision not to tell him because he’s one of my closest friends, but, at the same time, this isn’t my story to tell. I’ll be quiet about this but... I don’t think you should be.”

“Yeah, I understand,” you said, awkward now that you’ve realized you’ve stepped over the line. “I’m sorry I’m putting you in this position.”

“It’s fine, I don’t mind listening to you,” Mark said. “Sorry I couldn’t help you with much, though. I’m afraid this is something that you have to do on your own. If you find the right words to explain what you’re doing, Jaebum will understand. You just have to believe in yourself and stop looking like you’ve killed three people on your way home to talk to him. Have more confidence.”

“More confidence,” you repeated, almost scoffing. “That’s what I keep hearing.”

“It’s the truth,” he said. “Jaebum always talks about how talented you are. And he recognizes art, he’s not saying that just because he’s into you.”

Your heart banged against your ribcage, reminding you yet again about how much you cared about Jaebum. About how special it made you feel to know that he was talking about you to his friends.

“I hope you get to host your own exhibition,” Mark added before you could stand up and dial Jaebum’s phone number. “I really do.”

Hearing that meant a lot and you felt your lips stretch into a smile. “So, you don’t think I’m selling my soul to the devil by trying to get it this way?”

“No,” Mark laughed. “I just think you’re very dedicated since you’re willing to give up so much for your goal.”

You couldn’t help but find his words ambiguous. You feared to think of what else – aside from your dignity – you were unconsciously willing to give up for your ambition, but you didn’t ask him to explain what he’d meant. You didn’t dare.

“You know, it’s extremely refreshing to talk to someone who doesn’t immediately assume the worst of me,” you said instead.

“Who immediately assumes the worst of you?” Mark asked.

“Me.”

“Ah,” he nodded with a chuckle and then clocked a group of customers that had just arrived. “Hold on for just a moment.”

You nodded, using this time to check your phone. The screen was decorated with multiple texts from Jaebum – most of them seemed excited as he told you about the divine food that the agency dinner had served – but it also showed that it was nearly ten o’clock already. You hadn’t planned to stay here for this long; you still had to work tomorrow, not to mention the mess of thoughts inside of your mind you’d have to deal with even before your alarm rang the next morning.

“Thinking of leaving?” Mark asked when he returned and caught you putting your jacket on.

“Yeah,” you said. “I’ve stayed far longer than I should have. Thank you for listening to me and for being so open-minded. You’re a great person, Mark.”

He laughed, the comment clearly flustering him. “Must be the reason why I’m single.”

“Oh, you’re going to make a great partner for someone one day,” you said, your mind flashing back to him and Kiera. You were suddenly glad you weren’t drunk or you would have brought your friend up and you didn’t think you were in the right position to talk about them together. “Anyone would be lucky to have someone like you. It’s just me who’s stupid; apparently, I like my men complicated.

“Men?” Mark cocked an eyebrow.

You smiled at this. “You’re right. It’s just him.”

Mark stopped cleaning the glass he was holding to give you a serious look. “You like him a lot, don’t you?”

“I…”

You couldn’t finish the sentence and Mark was quick to notice that as a big smile spread from one of his ears to the other.

“What?” he asked, his tone teasing. “Is that not the right word anymore?”

“Oh, shut up,” you got up from your stool, looking down to avoid having him see your embarrassed face.

Mark laughed again, recalling the same exact words that Jaebum had said to him when he asked him the same thing.

“It’s okay,” he said, sending a mischievous wink your way when you looked at him again. “I happen to know that he feels the same way about you.”

chapter directory

#got7 #got7 fanfiction #got7 fanfic #got7 reactions #got7 imagines #got7 scenarios #got7 angst #jaebum #holic #got7 au #got7 x reader #roommate au #enemies to lovers au #got7 enemies to lovers au #got7 roommate au #got7 e2l au #e2l #e2l au

302 notes · View notes

alecmagnuslwb · 5 years

Text

Day Twenty: Future (Heline)

Read on AO3

Aline holds tight to the phone in her hand pacing the floor of her, no still their, living room. She turns on the screen for probably the hundredth time in the last five minutes the time still standing frozen at the same minute it’d been a millisecond ago.

She’s nervous. Worried that something happened or that Helen’s already gotten so busy that their nightly chats are falling to the wayside after just a month of separation.

A month, god she can’t believe it’s already been a month. They’d been planning next steps, moving into a bigger place, maybe finally getting a cat, but then the opportunity of a lifetime came for Helen’s career all the way on the other side of the country.

Aline had jumped to offer going with her immediately, but Helen stressed she couldn’t ask her to do that. She had her own nice cushy position in New York that would set her up for a stable career the rest of her foreseeable working days. Mix that with her mother still recovering after kicking breast cancers ass earlier in the year and Aline couldn’t just go no matter how badly she loathed the idea of not falling asleep in Helen’s arms every night.

So they’d put the future on hold. The plans, the bigger place, the cat and the ring Helen doesn’t yet know is sitting in the back of Aline’s underwear drawer all put on hold. It’s just a year, they can handle a year and then move forward together.

That however doesn’t mean that the distance doesn’t absolutely suck. Aline still hasn’t completely adjusted to sleeping alone and she still catches herself calling out to Helen when she walks through the front door at least three nights a week.

The nightly phone or skype calls help, but it’s still tough. Long distance is a bitch and a half after constant contact for five years.

She looks down at her phone again, twenty minutes past when Helen usually calls her and Aline keeps pacing. She divulges into worst case scenarios, not worried that Helen’s met someone else or anything insane like that, Aline’s amazing and Helen couldn’t do better and she has enough self-confidence to know that, but to actual worst-case scenarios.

Within five minutes she’s worked herself into the belief Helen’s been murdered by a rival scientific lab and is sitting in a ditch on the side of some abandoned Los Angeles highway. She’s so deep in this nightmare-ish thought she nearly jumps a foot in the air when her phone begins to ring and vibrate in her hand.

She looks down and sees a photo of a sleepy Helen pop up on the screen and her heart settles.

She swipes her thumb across it putting the call on speaker immediately.

“Hey, baby.”

“Hey, sorry I’m running late to call, got stuck in a meeting that just would not end. I’m not dead in a ditch I promise,” Helen says with a chuckle knowing Aline all too well.

Aline laughs as Helen keeps talking about her insane day. Yeah their future is on hold right now, but it’s still intact. Their future will have a nice house and a fluffy cat and she’s fairly certain that when she gets the time off in January to visit her Aline will dig that ring out of the back of her drawer and their future will hold a wedding as well.

#my fic #heline #helen blackthorn #aline penhallow #heline fic #shadowhunters

22 notes · View notes

familyvisionis2020 · 4 years

Text

Day 1 - Asheville (1 of 2)

“Top 3 Guitar Players of My Life:

Rick

Jeff

Jason”

-Jeremy, Family Vision bassist

Today is day one of the 2020 Family Vision band tour. I, Nebraska, am a freelance journalist working on a podcast series about false crime. In the meantime, I negotiated with the post-punk/no-wave band Family Vision, and they allowed me to interview them over the course of 16 days, on the single stipulation that I first join the band learn all the songs practice once a week for eight months and then go on a national tour with them. That was eight months ago.

At this moment I’m sitting up straight, comfortably nestled in a modestly upholstered burgundy 2002 Ford Econoline Van. All but one of the rear bench seats have been removed to accommodate the combo amps, drum hardware, duffel bags and other pieces of kit. Jeremy, copper coif glossy and pert behind gold aviators, handles the van with calm confidence, signaling attentively and passing on the left with aplomb. John, rhythm guitarist, and Kabir, lead guitarist and vocalist, puzzle over charger hookups in the back before passing around a Lush Botanicals fresh rose water spray bottle. We all spray it directly into our faces. The boys take L-Theanine capsules and pop multivitamin gummies. Jeremy sips his Joe Van Gogh cold brew slowly, rationing for the drive west. Tonight we play The Mothlight in Asheville, a small club venue that employs friend of the band who booked the show and another friend who makes memes on Instagram.

“True beauty should shock, not comfort,” says Jeremy, before deftly avoiding a skein if debris on the highway and negotiating the FM band knob onto a country station. Most of what comes through is sibilants; the boys do a brief by about melodic post-hardcore.

I learn that the band name Family Vision came about as a result of a Facebook game in which people would make nonsense lists of the top 3 local establishments or experts in a given field. Jeremy did a generic guitar guy one. Kabir listed the top restaurants in Carrboro as all the same moderately priced Italian restaurant. Then a friend suggested local optometrist Carrboro Family Vision be included among the top restaurants. Labor responded that that would make a good band name, and that was it.

What do four young men mean to a world growing ever more isolated, alienated? On the precipice of a global pandemic, what can be said about casual travelers other than ‘you charlatans are hedonistic disease vector-chumps’? As markets crash and an election looms, where does No Wave fit in? As values crumble and the nuclear family is more frequently identified as a site of horror and trauma, what does it mean to have a band name that includes the word ‘Family’?

In Raleigh last night, the police shot a young man in the back. A religious scholar in Chicago proclaims that for those among you whose life path has been derailed by crisis or whose hearts are hardened by trauma, simply remaining alive is an act of piety. In a church basement in Durham, an old woman explains that God does not love her because she is good, rather, God loves her because God is good. She hedges dyspeptic spirituality by suggesting her ‘god’ is just shorthand for a way to treat people better. Or Good Orderly Direction, Or Gift of Desperation, take your pick.

Meanwhile, this journalist pays the bills answering telephones and selling legal representation to the speeders and other highly mobile reprobates that haunt the concrete corridors of the Carolinas. The opportunity cost of two and a half weeks without pay is a steep one. The story I’m invited to tell is familiar, common, anodyne one. The Pulitzer committee will overlook the story. The opportunity to feel present, a part of, of a moment, present, sharing, belonging, with purpose—the opportunity to play may be a superior award.

Pearl Jam thrums over the wooshing din of I-40 rushing by my window. I pass the Greensboro exit that leads to my high school job, the DMV where I was first permitted to drive, a stretch of guardrail decorated with a grave marker I remember. All is well from the passenger seat of the Econoline.

Kabir will move to New York City with his girlfriend this summer after tour, he says. Jeremy already lives in Ridgewood. John and I will stay in Orange County for the foreseeable future. Gusts of manueur and diesel, but I taste 5 spearmint. AC/DC now, NC Weighted plates, pedal electronics and microtones and Peters Creek Parkway.

Freelance journalism lets me write without rigor. I wonder what my words are for, what compels me. I have felt as loved as anything when I felt seen on the page, when I felt parsed. I left town with a knot of something like love tied on my heart. If it frays or freezes I’m happy I can hold it like something precious and tidy in my palms for now. Jeremy will move in with the woman he loves, he thinks; Kabir too; John already has. I worry my inbox like a stone.

The band will play tonight, they expect peanuts for pay, hope for good floorspace to sleep, plan to plug in the hotpot and straight feast on homemade hummus. They say Asheville is built on a giant crystal. I’m unbound by fact checkers. I bought the same pair of white Reebok Classics I saw my sister wear in NYC. After some fearful hand wringing, I have cut and cuffed my pant legs.

1 note · View note

flichangama1981-blog · 5 years

Text

From seeing the present state, it is impossible not to look forward with high expectations to the future progress of nearly an entire hemisphere. The march of improvement, consequent on the introduction of Christianity throughout the South Sea, probably stands by itself in the records of history. It is the more striking when we remember that only sixty years since, Cook, whose excellent judgment none will dispute, could foresee no prospect of a change. I watched an interview you did on youtube with someone and you said you were a costco member. I forget what the question was, you may have been asked to describe yourself or something like that. Whatever it was I had the same feeling you described in your anti autograph pamphlet. Yeah, but it not like someone nearer to them wasn able to lift it. They clearly were. I don think OP would protested if he was walking by or present anyway. When I met you at 1am July 23rd, 2009 outside my home because you came to give my pregnant sister the medicines she had forgotten, I never knew I'll wake up to the news that your car flipped on the highway. Your memories have been etched into our hearts, minds, souls and after all these years of pretending I'm fine with it I'm not. I'm hurt and your death changed my life, we miss you. I love the Vichy mineral 89. I used to use skinceuticals b5 and then skinmedicas both are stupid expensive. I had a 40 % off Cvs coupon so I decided to try this instead and I love it so much. Except not really. Buying more Switches isn realistic. The 2DS pricing makes it easy to justify everyone having one. I had to lay and wait so long before I could get some morphine or whatever. The rest of the night in hospital was fine but I could not sleep. Not even after being given sleeping pills.. And he keeps addressing this stupid picture. Who the FUCK cares that that's what started everything? Insinuating that that's the most important thing to address completely shows not only his bias towards Jeffree Star (which has been so blatant as of late) but his overall privilege to not see that the problem here is RACISM. RACISM, first and foremost. Other comments keep saying use men razors but I say get a double edge razor. Check out /r/wicked_edge, it subreddit for shaving and the traditional razors with 1 blade are much better for the skin than the multi bladed ones. The blades are also dirt cheap so you can change them often. 옥천출장샵 I only found one derm who is willing to use steroid shots or surgery to remove them and I have since moved out of that state. My current derm just tsked and said "you poor thing" when he saw it but just kind of shrugged and offered Humira. (which I can start right now). Their reaction depends largely on whether they really are a proper friend or not. Apathy is not good enough. They are responsible not only for terrible damage and vets fees, but also potentially a beloved pets life. Unfortunately, if a TV crew had been with me, thats what 옥천출장샵 they would have shown on the show. It would have seemed I was doing what I wanted, as opposed to doing what I supposed to 95% of the time. Having gone through that (they diagnosed me at 20 weeks, so I had months of having it closely monitored), I do feel sympathy for her.

1 note · View note

bloomberg-a · 1 year

Text

Edge AI Market Latest Trends, Future Development Outlook and Demand Analysis to 2032

The Edge AI Market size is anticipated to surpass USD 70 billion in annual revenue by 2032, powered by the increasing prevalence of cybercrimes across the internet. The industry is expected to witness lucrative expansion, thanks to rapid technological advancements and the constantly rising adoption of IoT devices. With the increasing rate of industrialization worldwide, organizations from multiple industries are looking to enhance automation for improving processes, efficiency as well as safety. The influx of 5G solutions has further helped to improve the network performance for supporting and deploying different real-time AI applications.

Edge AI market is largely deployed not only in the healthcare sector from helping radiologists in identifying pathologies to carrying out the accurate diagnosis in hospitals, but also for driving automatic cars on highways. Smart farming, industrial manufacturing automation and pollination of plants are other benefits associated with this technology.

Request for a sample copy of this research report @ https://www.gminsights.com/request-sample/detail/5390

In October 2021, NVIDIA joined forces with Microsoft for the introduction of ND A100 v4 VM GPU, which is integrated with the former’s A100 Tensor Core GPUs along with networking for enabling supercomputer-based AI as well as HPC workloads in cloud. This launch helped in delivering technology breakthroughs in the public cloud in intelligent edge along with AI research, for transforming global industries, comprising retail, manufacturing, and healthcare

Synaptics Incorporated, in September 2021, completed the acquisition of DSP Group in a $450 million deal for bringing a new voice and wireless functions into its IoT product portfolio. The new investment assisted in adding ultra-low power networking capabilities to make the products more attractive for customers in the security market given that the edge AI platform is targeting on-device voice and face biometrics uses.

In September 2022, NVIDIA rolled out its IGX Edge AI market computing platform to offer high-precision industry in secure autonomous systems while bringing advanced security as well as proactive safety to sensitive industries, like logistics, manufacturing, and healthcare. The newly launched platform advances human-machine collaboration and combines hardware and software, including NVIDIA IGX Orin, an energy-efficient and compact AI supercomputer for medical devices autonomous and industrial machines.

Browse report summary @ https://www.gminsights.com/industry-analysis/edge-ai-market

In May 2022, Google’s platform for Edge AI, Coral signed an agreement with ASUS IoT for ramping up its manufacturing, distribution and support capabilities. Through this move, the latter with its vast global experience in electronics manufacturing will deliver Coral crucial resources to match the growing demands with consistent developments of new products for edge computing.

In essence, the edge AI market will foresee significant developments in the looming years, on account of the rising prominence of this technology amongst countless analysts and businesses. The deployment of edge AI solutions not only contributes to enhanced user experience and cost reductions but also provides significant improvements in response speeds and data security. The increasing usage of wearables for making payments as well as smart speakers for tracking exercise and sleep patterns will also add impetus to the technology demand in the near future.

The list of contenders in the edge AI market solutions provider include Anagog Ltd., Amazon Web Services (AWS), Dell, Google (Alphabet Inc), Gorilla Technology Group, Huawei Technologies Co., Ltd., IBM Corporation, Imagimob AB, Intel Corporation, Microsoft Corporation, MediaTek Inc, Nvidia, Synaptics Incorporated, Qualcomm Technologies Inc., and Xilinx.

Browse Our Reports Store - GMIPulse @ https://www.gminsights.com/gmipulse

About Global Market Insights Inc.

Global Market Insights Inc., headquartered in Delaware, U.S., is a global market research and consulting service provider, offering syndicated and custom research reports along with growth consulting services. Our business intelligence and industry research reports offer clients with penetrative insights and actionable market data specially designed and presented to aid strategic decision making. These exhaustive reports are designed via a proprietary research methodology and are available for key industries such as chemicals, advanced materials, technology, renewable energy, and biotechnology.

Contact Us:Aashit Tiwari Corporate Sales, USA Global Market Insights Inc. Toll Free: 1-888-689-0688 USA: +1-302-846-7766 Europe: +44-742-759-8484 APAC: +65-3129-7718 Email: [email protected]

0 notes

linhgd9 · 3 years

Text

Fitness Tracker Market to Exhibit a CAGR of 15.4% by 2028; Partnership of Bristol-Myers and Fitbit to Push Development: Fortune Business Insights™

The global fitness tracker market size is expected to reach USD 114.36 billion by 2028, exhibiting a CAGR of 15.4% during the forecast period. The rising adoption of wearable devices among the young population will significantly bolster healthy growth of the market, states Fortune Business Insights, in a report, titled “Fitness Tracker Market, 2021-2028.” the market size stood at USD 36.34 billion in 2020.

Request a Sample Copy of the Research Report:

https://www.fortunebusinessinsights.com/enquiry/sample/fitness-tracker-market-103358

The Report Lists the Main Companies in this Market:

Gramin Ltd (Kansas, United States)

Apple Inc (California, United States)

Fitbit, Inc. (California, United States)

Pebble Technology Corp (California, United States)

Samsung Electronics Co Ltd (Suwon-si, South Korea)

Google Inc. (California, United States)

Xiaomi Technology Co., Ltd. (Beijing, China)

Jawbone (California, United States)

Nike (Oregon, United States)

Other Players

Preference for Fitness During Pandemic to Positively Sway Market

The occurrence of COVID-19 has caused disturbance to the business of the fitness tracker industry. The interruption triggered in manufacturing, production, shipment, and sales of these products have massively affected the market. However, OEMs’ constant development of technologically advanced products will cater to the demand for fitness amid the coronavirus epidemic. For Instance, Fitbit announced the launch of an innovative tracker, Fitbit Charge 4. The new device will assist and offer support to customers at home during this time.

Moreover, Fitbit also provides a free 90-day trial and access to premium content, thus leading to more premium subscribers. Similarly, the growing demand for fitness products during COVID-19 will improve fitness trackers’ sales through online mediums, hence boosting the market. Besides, major brands’ enormous research and development activities to incorporate technologies in devices that can identify and track infectious diseases such as COVID-19 will further enhance market potential.

For more information visit : https://www.fortunebusinessinsights.com/fitness-tracker-market-103358

Fitness Bands are Expected to Hold the Highest Share

Based on device type, the market is divided into smartwatches, fitness bands, smart glasses, smart clothing, and others. Fitness bands held the dominant fitness tracker market share in 2020 owing to their user-friendliness and convenience.

Based on the application, the market is divided into heart rate tracking, sleep measurement, glucose measurement, sports, running, and cycling tracks. Running segment is expected to hold the maximum share during the forecast period.

Based on sales channels, the market is segmented into online, retail, and others. The online channels are expected to hold the lion’s share during the forecast period. The dominance is attributed to the growing penetration of the internet.

Geographically, this market is divided into North America, Asia Pacific, Europe, Latin America, and the Middle East & Africa

Quick Buy – Fitness Tracker Market Research Report:

https://www.fortunebusinessinsights.com/checkout-page/103358

The report fitness tracker market comprises:

Through analysis of the industry

Key insights into the market

Latest market trends and developments

Crucial information on COVID-19

Present and future market values

Surging Obese Population to Aid Expansion in Europe

The market size in North America stood at USD 17.36 billion in 2020 and is expected to account for the largest share during the forecast period. The region’s growth is attributed to the growing health issues such as chronic diseases among the general population. Europe is expected to witness a substantial growth rate during the forecast period due to the increasing obesity in the region. The market in Asia Pacific is expected to rise tremendously in the foreseeable future due to the growing adoption of tracking devices among the young population in countries such as Japan, China, and India. India accounts for 60% of the young people in Asia Pacific.

Have Any Query? Ask Our Experts:

https://www.fortunebusinessinsights.com/enquiry/speak-to-analyst/fitness-tracker-market-103358

Significant Development:

October 2019: Fitbit collaborated with the Bristol-Myers Squibb-Pfizer alliance to address atrial fibrillation detection gaps to accelerate diagnosis.

Table Of Contents:

Introduction

Research Scope

Market Segmentation

Research Methodology

Definitions and Assumptions

Executive Summary

Market Dynamics

Market Drivers

Market Restraints

Market Opportunities

Key Insights

Key Industry Trends

New Product Launch

Technological Advancements in Fitness Tracker Market

Key Industry Development (Mergers, Acquisitions, and Partnerships, etc.)

Impact of COVID-19 on the Fitness Tracker Market

Global Fitness Tracker Market Analysis, Insights and Forecast, 2017-2028

Key Findings / Summary

Market Analysis, Insights and Forecast – By Device Type

Smart Watches

Fitness Band

Smart Glasses

Smart Clothing

Others

Market Analysis, Insights and Forecast – By Application

Heart Rate Tracking

Sleep Measurement

Glucose Measurement

Sports

Running

Cycling Tracking

Market Analysis, Insights and Forecast – By Distribution Channel

Online

Retail

Others

Market Analysis, Insights and Forecast – By Country

North America

Europe

Asia Pacific

Latin America

Middle East & Africa

North America Fitness Tracker Market Analysis, Insights and Forecast, 2017-2028

Key Findings / Summary

Market Analysis – By Device Type

Smart Watches

Fitness Band

Smart Glasses

Smart Clothing

Others

Market Analysis – By Application

Heart Rate Tracking

Sleep Measurement

Glucose Measurement

Sports

Running

Cycling Tracking

Market Analysis – By Distribution Channel

Online

Retail

Others

Market Analysis – By Country

U.S.

By Device Type

Smart Watches

Fitness Band

Smart Glasses

Smart Clothing

Others

Canada

By Device Type

Smart Watches

Fitness Band

Smart Glasses

Smart Clothing

Others

Toc Continue..

Get your Customized Research Report:https://www.fortunebusinessinsights.com/enquiry/customization/fitness-tracker-market-103358

About Us:

Fortune Business Insights

offers expert corporate analysis and accurate data, helping organizations of all sizes make timely decisions. We tailor innovative solutions for our clients, assisting them to address challenges distinct to their businesses. Our goal is to empower our clients with holistic market intelligence, giving a granular overview of the market they are operating in.

Our reports contain a unique mix of tangible insights and qualitative analysis to help companies achieve sustainable growth. Our team of experienced analysts and consultants use industry-leading research tools and techniques to compile comprehensive market studies, interspersed with relevant data.

At Fortune Business Insights

we aim at highlighting the most lucrative growth opportunities for our clients. We, therefore, offer recommendations, making it easier for them to navigate through technological and market-related changes. Our consulting services are designed to help organizations identify hidden opportunities and understand prevailing competitive challenges.

Fortune Business Insights

Pvt. Ltd.

308, Supreme Headquarters,

Survey No. 36, Baner,

Pune-Bangalore Highway,

Pune – 411045, Maharashtra, India.

Phone:

US :+1 424 253 0390

UK : +44 2071 939123

APAC : +91 744 740 1245

Email: [email protected]

Fortune Business Insights

LinkedIn | Twitter | Blogs

Press Release:https://www.fortunebusinessinsights.com/press-release/global-fitness-tracker-market-10132

Related Reports:

Veterinary Radiography Systems Market

3D Printing Medical Devices Market

Anesthesia Information Management Systems Market

ECG Devices Market

Indirect Calorimeter Market

Polyethersulfone Dialyzer Market

Tympanometers Market

Alzheimer’s Drugs Market

Craniomaxillofacial Implants Market

Fiberscope Market

Veterinary Radiography Systems Market Size

3D Printing Medical Devices Market Size

Anesthesia Information Management Systems Market Size

ECG Devices Market Size

Indirect Calorimeter Market Size

Polyethersulfone Dialyzer Market Size

Tympanometers Market Size

Alzheimer’s Drugs Market Size

Craniomaxillofacial Implants Market Size

Fiberscope Market Size

from NeighborWebSJ https://ift.tt/3gBgf5h via IFTTT

from WordPress https://ift.tt/3gJRHWq via IFTTT

#WordPress

0 notes

thehikingnerd · 4 years

Photo

Day 117. (9/11)

We all got up and packed by 7am, surprising considering the later bed time and the beers that had been consumed. Butt'rs’ friend drove us to the same point where he had picked us up the evening before. He was a nice guy and I enjoyed meeting him. We once again took off down the road and walked straight into Hood River. A lady stopped and asked if we needed a ride and in the conversation she told us that we can't walk the bridge to cross the river because it's not open to foot traffic; vehicles only. Discouraged by this news, we went to McDonald's and then Starbucks all while working to find some way we could cross the river without hitching over the bridge. We had come this far without missing a step, it just killed us to think we might have to break the continuous foot path because there simply was no other way. We called everyone imaginable to see if there was some way we could get to the Bridge of the Gods and still be allowed to cross or something… No dice. I even called the local highway police and was told that there was no way we could cross on foot and that if would be extremely dangerous to attempt it and would be arrested if we tried. Then I started calling some of the many wind surfing places along the bank of the river, and finally, one guy called me back and said he would let us borrow paddle boards and we could paddle across the river and all it would cost us is one triple shot mocha from Starbucks. I had already told Butt’rs that I think we could walk to the narrowest part of the river and just swim the 30 yards or so it looked like to the other side. I still think we could have, but without a life jacket, I just didn’t feel comfortable trying this with a backpack on. Not to mention if I had to drop it to save my life and swim to safety in the event it filled with water and was pulling me down, that alone really would be the end of my PCT journey as it would be near impossible to replace all my gear and regroup all while having enough time to finish before the snow closed the trail. This was our best solution, and ended up being a fun little unexpected part of our journey. It was my first time paddle boarding, and I didn’t feel very confident that I wouldn’t fall off with all the YouTube videos I’ve seen over the years of first timers wabbling and crashing, so I started off sitting on my knees and paddling. This guy’s dog must be familiar and used to paddle boarding and generally like it, because he jumped in the water and swam over to me and got on the board with me. He encouraged me to just take him with me to the other side and he’d just pick him up from us on the other side and drop our packs off to us at the same time (yes, this was bit of a cheat letting him drive our packs over, but again, we feared losing them in the river). I thought the dog was cute and fun, but I insisted that it was my first time on one and I wouldn’t trust myself to not fall off and I wouldn’t want him to get swept away. He finally agreed and called the dog and told me to set him off and into the water. The dog swam back to his owner and I went on my way. Butt’rs was way out ahead at this point and it wasn’t his first rodeo so to speak. We both stopped half way to swim around for a bit and cool off before going under a bridge toward a bank on the other side in Washington. I saw a salmon in the river as I neared the bridge. We made it to the bank and into Washington! Holy hell, we had made it across without breaking our footpath (as far as we were concerned). We carried the boards up to a taco stand just up the bank and waited for Jimmy (the wind surfing guy) to come with our packs. While we waited a couple of police officers came up and told us that we had gotten off in part of the reservation area and that we could be arrested and fined $500 for the violation, but since we didn't know and there weren't signs on the water that we would just be left with a warning. Guy finally came with our stuff after what seemed like a very long wait. We thanked him and bought him an apple soda from the burrito stand. He totally came through for us and we were immeasurably grateful. We had some burritos ourselves, and then were once again on our way, with no other foreseeable obstacles standing between us and Canada. It was, however, a long, rough day that followed. We had basically run through what seemed like an endless sequence of tunnels that had no sidewalks to safely walk under next to the road. So we would just wait until we couldn’t hear or see any cars and just run (gimpy leg and backpack and all) as fast as we could to get to the other side and get then get off the road into the ditch or shoulder. This was dangerous and weighed heavily on us throughout the day. When we were lucky we could walk a railroad track and through train tunnels sometimes rather than the road tunnels because they were somewhat safer we assumed as we figured we could at least hear a train coming. This was a mentally and physically exhausting day. To top it off, Butt'rs had been coming down with a cold all day. We stopped at dog creek falls to cool off and take a break and talked to a couple of locals who offered to drive us across the Bridge of the Gods since it was still open to the locals (only while driving across in a car) but had to decline to keep the continuous walk going and would have had to back track quite a ways and then they would have had to still bring us back across. It was a nice gesture to have offered but it seemed like a lot more trouble than it was worth. I had already decided that if we get there and they wouldn’t let us walk the bridge back into Oregon and then come back across into Washington that I would just have to come back on day to walk it in the future, but I still was hoping that we talked to the right person and they would allow us to do so. I saw thick smoke plumes across the river. This whole thing was started by a teenager. Some little jerk was throwing fireworks down off of a cliff and set the whole gorge area on fire. Because of him, I had to miss the Eagle Creek alternate I have been looking forward to, couldn’t walk over the last big landmark before entering the home stretch of the trail: the Bridge of the Gods, and added days and hundreds of miles of crappy road walking to our PCT journey. But, it is what it is and it definitely has made it a very unique route to get through all of the obstacles. We walked on into the night and tried to make it to Sweeney Falls but stopped about 1 and ½ miles short because the shoulder for so narrow on Hwy 14, and in the dark on those winding roads it was becoming too dangerous to continue. We looked at every spot that we came across until we found a road that looked like it hadn't been driven on in a long time and walked down to what appeared to be an abandoned house. We felt like we didn't really have any alternative… and so we set up camp. It was creepy to camp in front of an old, abandoned house (not knowing what squatters or animals may emerge in the night), and we were not real sure about doing so…but without any better ideas we set up camp and hoped it would be an ok spot to sleep for the night. What a day.

0 notes

mamoonkhpal · 4 years

Text

L’Auberge Mélangeur

I wonder how far the muezzin’s call to prayer echoes over the rooftops and across the strait to Tarifa, where the southernmost tip of Spain faces Morocco. On my tiny enclave, where I am perched among multitudinous satellite dishes, the coast of the Tarifa appears to encroach closer than I initially considered. I could feel the crushing proximity of this strait as if I was standing on a thread strung above Le Ville Nouvelle. There is a greater expectancy inside the medina over the arrival of the evening prayers than from some of my new counterparts inside the hostel. L’Auberge Melangeur is a large riad cloistered tightly by busy neighbouring dwellings of families with many children. The maître d’ revealed the riad had been host to numerable personalities during its tenure inside the International Zone, and it would be host to the beginning of my traveller’s sojourn inside the country too. The streets are beautiful in daylight, but menacing in the night. The torpor from the heat has cast my roommates into dances above this strange menagerie. On arriving in Tangier, my fortune instantaneously sunk with the town’s past upheavals and fraught history. The view from above leaves the impression of the town having collided with time like the trumpeting pages on Morocco I read before arriving in Tangier. The hostel lies just behind the Hotel Continental, which faces the port where the sun was setting, and the evening’s rambles would enliven later. I was lying on the roof terrace under the dry heat of the sky, when Marc, sleeping on the floor above mine, would jar astray to the hashish bellowing from the sinews inside the medina. As per the quotidian, a potion of smoke and music perfumes the streets each evening. And over the Hotel Continental towards the seafront the rolling tides forbids crowds from leaving the promenade anytime soon.

……

To Amine’s amusement Marc embraces him firmly than asks, ‘So, did you just arrive?’

‘Yes’, Amine said with more apprehension than excitement.

Marc retorted quickly, and explained how he discovered the hostel. ‘I’ve come from Paris while visiting an uncle. I am now here for the foreseeable future. What are you doing? Marc was dressed feebly with a few rags on his torso and shoes he described as disintegrating. His face bore a dishevelled beard concealing eyes sunken with fatigue, and an overworked trilby which unleashed his frayed tresses. ‘I am searching through the Atlas Mountains to look for Berber musicians in the desert.’ He quickly paid attention to Amine’s hand then appealed in earnest to the splint propping his left wrist.

‘Did you break a bone?’

Amine was exasperated to answer. ‘Uh. Yeah. I was on my bicycle when a car struck me in London’

‘How terrible!’ Marc’s face fixed surprise.

The odour of hashish became more distinct once the local boys arrived after school. They were neighbours living beside the hostel who would smoke outside their homes after and between breaks. The perfume led Amine and Marc outside the hostel and onto the streets when the night began its slow descent into crimson blue. They were tacit in their steps entering the cobwebbed inlets which ran towards the petite socco, 5 minutes away. The old town lost all geometry after a few turnings between the ceilings of tall buildings looming upwards.

An Arabic horn rumbled deceitfully from the sky. They usually bring nocturnal life into séance during the evenings. A requisite of some dexterity was necessary for crossing the streets among so many weird figures, or scattering children inside the medina, Amine reflected. ‘There’s a café behind the old jailhouse. It’s near the museum’, Marc explained to Amine. He appeared worried but Marc bade he follow him on and smiled so to remind him that he was now more confident with the area over his weeks of stay in Tangier. They climbed higher along a narrowing path. Amine noticed the men appeared more like spiders in their djellabas then humans. ‘It’s just here’, Marc pointed towards the Place de la Kasbah overlooking the bay, where the ships were moored. The floodlights below dotted the highway along the harbour, which reflected light onto the old prison where Marc had taken Amine. The sky had darkened into night and further ahead on the tapered path was the Café Marc mentioned earlier. They crept further into the bellowing smoke which rose into the air. And after making some way through, the noise surrounding the pair retreated until their path was silent, only echoed by passing traffic coming from the highway. They would walk through this narrowing pathway until Amine could only hear faint thuds of music in the distance, trudging closely behind Marc. The noise became audible and the pair could see through the sprawling fauna crowds inside the café listening to disco music. On arrival Marc was firmly embraced by Yusif, the owner of the café. He was a gangly figure grasping a pipe of khif in his hand and wearing a large pair of luminous, yellow pointed babouches. He immediately bade the two sit with another group of guests on the terrace outside, facing the port.

Yusif was searching for more Khiff inside his leather waist pouch before handing it freely among Marc’s friends who were speaking French among themselves.

He fixed his eyes on Amine, ‘What is your name habib?’

“Amine”

Eh! ‘What?’ He drew his tall figure towards him to listen more closely

“AM-I-NE,”

‘Ah, you are a Moslem habib. My name is Yu-sif, and I am the owner. This café was my father’s until he passed away 3 years ago. I now run it and also have some clothing businesses nearby. My house too is also along that road. Habib, make yourself welcome here.’

A group of Austrian travellers were sat with Marc’s friend Giuseppe, from Italy. The younger man was disguising a blonde ponytail beneath a stylish black trilby. The den was reverberating smoke between the floor and the ceiling. Yusif had sat with his personal guests and ordered more fresh mint tea from a bald man preparing large bunches of mint behind the café counter. He was infamous for receiving swarms of street cats from the Place de Kasbah, who would perform unbeknown routes to Yusif’s café for detritus fish. They would loiter on the terrace of the café sometimes and entertain the guests before he would have them cleared. He was one of the many assistants he employed to manage his local businesses in the busy area.

‘Giuseppe, this is Amine’, Marc interjected momentarily.

Giuseppe pressed Amine with fascination and asked him boldly, ‘Why are you in Tangier?’

Amine was sat in silence opposite a couple. Julia who was on his left, finished the remainder of her cigarette, then struck him into conversation.

‘What do you do Amine?’

He was pensive now, and the few inhalations he took inside the café dissembled his retort sibilant between his slow exhales. ‘I was a stooge inside a restaurant in London, by the river Thames. A few weeks earlier a car struck my bike and I fell landing on my hand. After that I left for Tangier’, Amine presented his bandaged wrist to her for review.

Julia was a vision. Her blue eyes were drifting aimlessly as Amine spoke. She smiled momentarily then offered him her condolences. ‘What will you do while you are in Tangier?’ she asked in her distinctly continental tone. Marc moved inside the café on the cushions beside some musicians strumming in the corner of the café, and Julia introduced her boyfriend Tobias beside her, and offered Amine some of their khif with his mint tea. She placed a small black atom in the centre of his right palm that was obscenely fragrant and pleasing. He would prepare the khif into a desperate looking joint he lighted unawares despite his maladroit hand. The herbal infusion mixed with the tobacco, raised lofty undulations through his chest and fresh aromas of aniseed and fennel up his nasal passages. She confidently poured the tea at some height into his cup like the fashionable Moroccan men Amine saw in the medina serving tea among their friends. She then placed a sugar cube carefully inside his right hand. Julia and Tobias were at the height of Viennese chic in the café. They continued smoking profusely before recommending I visit the local cafés and bazars in the medina. ‘I’m sorry to hear of your accident Amine. I am tutoring at the local university’, Julia said. We ordered another round of mint teas between us, though Giuseppe declined and continued puffing on his khif. ‘There is a festival in Marrakech happening soon and I am meeting a few friends later on with Tobias. You are welcome to join us, we’ll be in Marrakech within a fortnight,’ Julia smiled with excitement. Marc then retrieved a leather bound writing journal from the crèche inside the café where a group of musicians were strumming. He carried on explaining that he was heading towards the desert to learn more on Berber music with folk musicians he was looking for. He had finished meetings with a local village chief yesterday who promised he would host him for the coming days inside his home near Essaouira at a discounted rate. Giuseppe was facing the window looking outwards towards the ocean. He was also smoking profusely at a roll of hashish. The wind flushed gales through the awning and ruffled beneath his black trilby. He leered towards Amine with high spirits, and asked ‘Are you enjoying Tangier?’

‘Yeah sure, I am. But the reputation of the city goes unchallenged, I can feel varmints in the air.’

#Moroccco creativewriting shortstory tangier marrakech #fiction literature

0 notes

bigyack-com · 4 years

Text

Wearable Tech That Tells Drowsy Truckers It’s Time to Pull Over

Falling asleep at the wheel is a trucker’s worst nightmare. Fatigue comes with the job of driving an eighteen-wheeler, even with rules requiring rest stops and limiting driving hours. Now, new technologies are becoming available to alert drowsy drivers, sometimes even before they feel tired.Such tech has been slow to enter big rigs’ cabs, but that may be changing. “The trucking industry is more of a wait-and-see group than an early adopter when it comes to technology because they run on thin margins,” said Daniel Bongers, chief technology officer at SmartCap, an Australian company that makes a number of industrial safety products. In addition, the industry, which employs 3.5 million people in the United States, has been focused on a new law requiring the installation of electronic logging devices on most commercial trucks that is meant to help ensure drivers don’t drive more than the legally allotted hours in a day and that they take required breaks.Biometric sensors are getting lighter, cheaper and more accurate, and new software systems can connect driver and vehicle data. The feedback loops these systems create could make the roads safer for everyone. Fatigue is highly underreported as an accident cause, said Dr. Bongers, who has a Ph.D. in mechanical engineering. For example, he said, a crash might officially be attributed to roadwork, but fatigue may have slowed the driver’s reaction time and decision-making.At National Transportation Services in Kent, Wash., Juan Ochoa, an 18-year industry veteran, manages a fleet of about 80 long-haul trucks. He believes most accidents are caused by fatigue. “I’d estimate 70 percent,” he said.One of the first drowsy-driving monitoring systems to appear in the truckers’ cab was a driver-facing camera that alerted the driver when it registered eyelid and head droops. Privacy concerns kept this technology from going far.New wearable technology monitors the drivers but in a more subtle way, and comes in a variety of forms including caps, vests, wristbands and eye wear.Glasses made by Optalert measure the driver’s eye blinking with an LED light monitor. Eyelids that stay down too long might point to a sleepy driver. The real-time measurements are displayed on a dash-mounted device with alarms and notifications.A headset made by Maven Machines detects if a driver is looking forward through the windshield, up, down or sideways, and measures mirror checks, which can decrease in frequency if a driver is getting tired. The headset detects head bobs and jerks, signs the driver is falling asleep.This system also notices and can deliver notifications on “coachable” behaviors that can be improved, like hard braking, and delivers audible routing, weather and other messages as well.The software behind these devices is complex, with data from a variety of sources, said Craig Campbell, vice president for marketing at Maven Machines. His company’s headset, for example, pulls data from accelerometers embedded inside, sensors in the truck’s onboard computer and GPS data from nearby cellphone towers. The system can then discern whether a driver is driving at an unsafe speed, or perhaps just passing someone, going down a hill or crossing a highway overpass that runs above a surface street with a lower speed limit.“It’s easy to drown in a sea of data,” so driver-monitoring systems must pick out the important events to report, Mr. Campbell said.The SmartCap device is a headband that fits into trucker caps, beanies or other head gear. The band measures electronic brain waves and translates them to a measure of alertness or fatigue. It notifies the driver and a central monitoring system if the wearer appears drowsy.The alerts sent to drivers are meant to encourage them to find their own best way to get back into a more alert state, such as stopping and walking around the truck, having a snack, drinking some water or taking a nap, said Dr. Bongers. The company says its case studies have shown that over time the number of drivers’ alerts lessens, meaning they are changing schedules or learning to recognize their own drowsy warning signs.Some truck drivers do have cameras watching them from dashboard mounts. The Guardian from Seeing Machines, a black cylinder with a camera in it, is mounted on top of the dashboard. Face- and gaze-tracking algorithms monitor the driver and send audio alarms, vibrate the driver’s seat and notify the monitoring station if safety parameters are not met.Mr. Ochoa’s company uses a camera and software system connected to both the truck and the insurance company for driver safety and monitoring. The system stores 10 seconds of driver and front-facing video before and after any unusual event like harsh acceleration or braking or sharp turns. “The front camera is important because it records what is happening on the road at the time of the accident and helps determine whose fault it was,” Mr. Ochoa said.Some devices try to predict a driver’s drowsiness.Software sold by Fatigue Science analyzes sleep data from wearables, such as the quality and quantity of a driver’s sleep plus their sleep history or sleep debt, in order to project when they will feel tired. This works as a predictive tool, as well as a personal alert system, said Robert Higdon, Fatigue Science’s vice president for product and corporate development. The predictions help drivers to be more aware of fatigue risk before it happens, and companies to adjust shift schedules and provide sleep help resources based on the information provided by the software, he said.Karen Levy, a Cornell University professor who is writing a book on truckers and technology, said that while she appreciated the safety goals of wearables and cameras, they were “just a Band-Aid” for the wider problem of truck driver fatigue. Changes in the industry, including how drivers are paid and the efficiency of the system, would do more to help, she said.Drivers sometimes need to wait hours at warehouse facilities for their cargo to be loaded or unloaded, Dr. Levy said. They don’t always get paid for that waiting time, “but it does increase their fatigue.” Companies should be given incentives to get drivers in and out of loading bays more quickly, she said, and drivers should always be paid for waiting time. “It’s a complex system,” she said, noting that this was just one example of how industry operations might be better optimized to benefit both drivers and businesses.In the meantime, self-driving trucks are still years away, so “it’s a good bet” companies will continue developing monitoring technologies for drivers, Dr. Levy said. “We’re going to need an alert human for the foreseeable future.” Read the full article

0 notes

shippersark · 5 years

Text

Alia Bhatt on ruling the box-office, romance with Ranbir Kapoor & fighting anxiety

Zoya Akhtar jokingly calls her Paul the Octopus. Whatever film she says yes to is a bonafide hit. Whatever she says no to goes to the boondocks. Right at this moment, Alia Bhatt is everything right with Bollywood and a much-needed talent that our movies seriously lack. She will be working with S. S. Rajamouli’s next bilingual, RRR, opposite Ram Charan and Jr NTR, a dream she always nurtured. Showbiz corridors also hush-hush that the next Sanjay Leela Bhansali starrer will topline Alia. In addition to this there’s her father, Mahesh Bhatt’s Sadak, Ayan Mukerji’s Brahmastra and of course Karan Johar’s magnum opus Takht. Looks like a packed two years ahead. In between all this she’s found love in the form of Ranbir Kapoor. No sooner did the couple make it public than rumours of trouble in paradise started doing the rounds. In the same breath, there’s talk of their upcoming marriage given Ranbir’s father, Rishi Kapoor’s health. Her current release Gully Boy has seen her in top form internalising the character of Safeena, a spitfire, who rails at convention and cocks a snook at moth-eaten mores. While Abhishek Varman’s Kalank will present her in an epic avatar. It all adds up as the right time to meet my favourite sunshine girl…

What’s the best compliment you’ve received for Gully Boy? Mr Amitabh Bachchan wrote me a lovely letter after Gully Boy. This is the third note I’ve received from him. One was for Highway and the other for Udta Punjab. Both are framed and up on my wall. (Smiles) After Gully Boy, people believe I’m a little crack. They perhaps think, ‘tu thodi si pagal hai, humkomaar sakti hai’. I love the fact that the character of Safeena made such an impact. I didn’t expect this kind of response. For me it was a good film that I got for free because of Ranveer Singh. You’re like Paul the Octopus, you can foresee the right scripts. Zoya (Akhtar) also calls me Paul the Octopus. But I’ve gone wrong once. I had loved that script too. Perhaps, the execution went wrong. I choose my films as an audience. I’m a restless person. I can barely hold a conversation with a semi-boring person. So, imagine me playing a semi-boring character. Either it should scare me or be something in my space, but with a twist. Gully Boy was an alien space. How did you own it? We did workshops. Also, there’s a kind of ‘buntai’ Mumbai chick hidden within me. I began speaking like that. I felt Safeena was me. The space was alien to me. But not the emotion. People have felt those emotions but no one’s expressed that kind of rage or jealousy. Have you ever beaten up anyone? No. Never. That’s a lie I swear I’ve never had a cat fight. I don’t have that confrontational ability. I’m a chuha (mouse) type of person in real life. I have this need to please people. I don’t want people to not like me. But I do identify with that emotion, that feeling. Like Safeena says, “Ek life hai aur ek tu hai. Upar se woh ghus rahi hai beech main…” I love the dialogue that I have one life and one you. Why is she taking that away from me? That thought was so beautiful. Is your relationship with your parents (Mahesh Bhatt and Soni Razdan) a bit like that in Gully Boy? No. My parents have never raised their hand on me. Were they conservative? Definitely not. But I understand that emotion in the film where they talk about me lying. I used to lie a lot to my parents though I didn’t want to. Also, the bathroom scene with Ranveer Singh was wonderful… When Ranveer was doing the scene, I was not shooting that day. But I went on the set at 7 am to give him cues so he could feel like he was talking to me. Similarly, he came to give me cues when I shot my scene two months later. Listening to his voice helped. When an AD gives cues, it’s difficult to feel the tension. Do intense roles, like the one in Gully Boy, take a toll on you? It took a toll for sure. Kalank also took a toll on me. Because I was shooting simultaneously for Brahmastra and Gully Boy. Balancing Kalank and Brahmastra was difficult too because I hardly slept. It was demanding physically and emotionally. Kalank is my first costume drama. It would take one-and-a- half-hour to do my hair and make-up. In Kalank, I play a typical heroine but with layered intensity. I was uncomfortable shooting in heavy lehengas in the month of May at Filmcity. It was exhausting and I feared messing up. I wanted the conviction to come across. I’m scared because it’s something away from what I’ve done before. But your roles have always been edgy and challenging… Kalank is not edgy, it’s an Indian world but with intensity. It’s an epic drama. Ranveer Singh and Ranbir Kapor – how different are they as co-stars? They’re both different as actors. When Ranveer is excited, it’s visible. When his preparation is on, you’re aware of his focus, his energy… You can see he’s getting into his shot. But with Ranbir, I wouldn’t know what he’s thinking. He could be thinking of butter chicken yet he’d be giving a shot. That’s the way he is. So Ranveer has more technique? I don’t know about technique. But his process is more visible. I don’t think Ranbir has a process. He’s just gifted, he just comes and does. There’s no thought. But both are ‘chill’ on the set. You seem to have become like the female Ranbir Kapoor having developed an air of detachment… I’ve always been like that. It has nothing to do with Ranbir. People keep saying Ranbir and I are so similar. I don’t think he’s detached. We don’t have or rather I don’t have the ability to pretend. So, if I’m interested, I’m interested. Also by default, my face wears a perpetual frown. I could be feeling ecstatic. But you wouldn’t know that because I’ve got this frown on my face. So, it’s not because of Ranbir. I’ve always been this way. Of late, there’s just so much going on in my mind, it’s not a good thing. I’m not present in the moment. I’m constantly flying somewhere else. Ranbir is not like that. He’s quite the opposite. The best advice on life, work or relationships that Ranbir has given you… I stress about things that are not in my control. I’m an over thinker. I get anxious. There was a period when I was working hard and I was stressed. Ranbir told me if you’re working hard, you need not worry about anything else. Do the best you can and just let everything else be. That helped me. I still stress but it’s easier for me to now let it be. The maximum I can do is put in my 100 per cent. I don’t need to worry about the results. Are you a chronic worrier? Ya, but I’ve calmed down of late. I guess it happened this year. What brings you anxiety? I want my films to do well. But that’s not my biggest stress and fear. I get stressed if my friend is stressed about something. Say, if something is bothering Ayan (Mukerji) or Abhishek (Varman), it stresses me. Or if I have many things to do and I’m unable to do everything, it stresses me. I have bouts of anxiety every now and then. But I’ve found a way to move around it. You know you will feel low. But that only makes the high feel better. Other than your movies, what else gives you a high? Your relationship? No ya. What’s giving me a big high right now is my relationship with myself. It’s another level of connection and a feeling of growing up that I’m experiencing right now. I’ve turned 26 a few days back. I’ve become sensitive to my environment. If I feel an environment will be too frantic for me, then I don’t go out. I sit in my room, I stay with myself, I watch something, I read a book… I’m so passionate right now that I’m getting scared. I’m so passionate that I’m also getting excited. How do you keep calm? You’ve got to constantly tell yourself to calm down. The possibility of the future is so immense, it’s like being a kid in candy land. At the same time, you don’t want to get lost and be separated from your family and friends. So, it’s important for me to stay grounded. And also, remain focussed on my work and normal life. Of course, just seeing your efforts flower and the efforts of your friends’ flower – for example, when we launched the logo of Brahmastra in the sky, I got so emotional. We’ve been talking about this film for so many years and now t’s a reality. It’s such an ambitious film. There was a point when I felt like ki kuch hoga hi nahi. I’ve lived with Abhishek on Kalank too. Karan (Johar) had mentioned this one line about the film during Student Of The Year. It was a film he wanted to make and then it went on to Abhishek. So, the journey seems unreal. Do you get time to nurture your relationship with yourself? I do take that time.Even if I’m tired after a shoot, I don’t come and hit the bed immediately. I listen to music, I reflect, I read… I like waking up early in the morning so I can glance through the newspaper. I gather all my thoughts, answer messages, speak to people as to what I can do more creatively. I think about my characters. I reflect on the day’s work. I wasn’t getting this ‘reflection’ time in the middle of last year. I just kept shooting. I began to feel like a robot. That’s when I started suffering from anxiety. My days are still hectic but I’m giving time to myself. Did it take a toll on your health? Ya, more than anything it affected my mental health. Thankfully, I didn’t fall ill. But I was just so annoyed and sleep deprived. How do you work then? Have you ever faced a situation where you felt the need to see a counsellor? Ya, I have. I haven’t been depressed but I’ve had bouts of anxiety. It comes and goes. It’s been happening quite a bit since the past five to six months. It’s not like an anxiety attack but I just feel low. Thankfully, I’m aware of it because of my sister (Shaheen Bhatt). She’s fought depression. I’ve read her book. No matter how bad it is,I just let myself feel it. Sometimes, I feel like crying for no reason. Then it passes. Initially, I’d be a little confused. I’d constantly give reasons that it’s because of work or maybe I’m tired or haven’t been able to meet anyone... The kind of personality I have, I become a little on the edge. I spoke to friends about it. I spoke to Ayan about it, I spoke to my sister’s friend Rohan (Joshi). Everyone told me that you’ve got to realise that it will go away. What’s important is to accept it and not say that you’re fine. If you’re not feeling fine, then you should just say you’re not feeling fine. Why didn’t you seek professional help then? I wanted to but it’s not obviously reached that place where I’m desperate to speak to someone. So, I guess I’m fine. We’re privileged to be in this business and to be living this life. But a tiredness can seep in and make you feel low. There could be a scientific explanation for it as well. But I’m not shy or scared to accept that I’m feeling low. I just have to let it pass. But the time when it’s there, it’s a bit weird. I don’t know how to explain that. What about social anxiety? Yes, I do experience social anxiety. If I’m sitting in a group of 10 to 15 people, who I’m connected to, I’m fine. But if I go for a party or a wedding, I go wild because I don’t know what to talk to people. I can’t make small talk. Hello ke baad mein kya bolun. Then I become fake. People who know me say why are you going weird. Do you feel judged? No. Maybe, I’m not judged. Do you worry because you’re a people pleaser? I’m not a people pleaser. I just want people to like me. I don’t want to upset anyone in my life. I want to be a person, who’s loved by everyone. One and all. The gossip is you’re getting married within a year. That in April your parents are doing a roka. The only ‘Roka’ I’m going to is the restaurant in London. There’s no roka happening for me. And why are you putting a year to my marriage? Okay, how do you tackle someone as difficult as Ranbir Kapoor? He’s not difficult. He’s a gem. But he’s had a troubled past… How does it matter?It’s part of someone’s life and who cares. Aur main thodi na kam hoon. So, when did you decide that this was the guy? When I met him for the first time in my life. Again, let me tell you he’s not difficult. He’s a supremely simple person. He’s such a nice human being that I wish I was as good as him. As an actor, as a person, as everything. He’s way better a person thanI am. And about getting married? Well, that’s the only thing that’s irritating right now. Every morning I wake up to the news that I’m getting married. I tell him what the hell. I guess he’s used to it. Do you believe some rival actress started the rumour? I hope no one is rivalling with me. Marriage is not even in my bandwidth. There’s too much happening in terms of work and life. I’m not saying that I can’t be married and work as well. But I’m really too young. I’ve no plans of getting married right now. That’s it. It has to wait. The rumours probably began when you were seen by Ranbir’s side in New York, where his dad Rishi Kapoor is undergoing treatment… Ya. I hope it’s coming from a nice place, where people are actually excited about it. That’s why I let it be. I’m not offended or angry at all. Getting married is a trend right now but this is one trend I’m not following. Is being in this relationship tough compared to your previous ones? No. It’s not a relationship. It’s a friendship. I’m saying this with all genuineness and honesty. It’s beautiful. I’m walking on stars and clouds right now. The best part is that we’re two individuals, who are living our own professional lives in its full form right now. He’s shooting continuously. So am I. It’s not a situation where you’ll see us constantly together. That’s the true mark of a comfortable relationship. Nazar na lage. In fact, there’s a beautiful book titled My Brilliant Friend. Ranbir’s my brilliant friend. Credits: Filmfare Read the full article

#AliaBhattopensupaboutherbattlewithanxiety #AliaBhattrevealssheisbattlingwithanxietybouts

0 notes