#that's an entire quarter of their budget......AGONY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

swanslieutenant · 5 years

Text

from the sea - chapter seven

Summary: When Emma becomes sheriff, the pressure of running a department with a dwindling budget becomes nothing but an exercise in frustration. That is, until she finds an unlikely ally in the town treasurer, a man who her kid Henry is convinced is not an ally at all, but rather a villainous enemy. Season 1 AU, Cursed!Killian.

Rating and Warnings: Teen.

Catch up: ch1, ch2, ch3, ch4, ch5, ch6

Read on AO3

_________

Hot, scorching sunlight beats down on Wes as he stands on creaking oak boards of a ship, squinting against the bright reflection of the sunlight off the glimmering blue ocean all around him. He feels abruptly out of place; the last thing he remembers was closing his eyes in the darkness of his room. And yet, here he is, standing here, on the moored ship, the waves lapping gently against the hull, rocking it back and forth like a mother rocking her child.

He glances around him, trying to get a sense of his bearings. He’s on a ship, half-leaning against the base of the tall mast, and as he shifts slightly, he winces at the sharp pain radiating down his right side. A dark-haired woman standing in front of him, long curls cascading down around her shoulders, her patterned skirt tight around her waist, glances back over to him with concerned eyes.

As she shifts, he catches sight of a man, if he could even be called that, opposite her. Wes recoils – he is more gremlin than human, skin scaly, eyes yellow and demonic. The monster is leering at the woman, a cold hatred in his expression, but she isn’t intimidated, her stance confident and cool.

Wes blinks hard several times, trying to focus on what is happening around him. The pair are exchanging a heated lobby of words, biting and cold back and forth, and he focuses in just as the monster hisses, “And why were you so miserable?”

The woman’s face twists into a snarl, and she spits, “Because I never loved you.”

The monster’s face contorts in fury, a flash of pure evil in his eyes. He lunges forward, plunging his hand directly into the woman’s chest, sending her stumbling backwards with a yelp of pain, and a scream rips free from him.

No, Milah!

Wes darts forward, desperate to reach her, but the monster flicks his wrist as if he’s nothing more than an irritating gnat and he is thrown back, flying through the air and striking the large mast behind him. His head cracks painfully against the wood, making him see stars. As he blinks rapidly, trying to clear his vision, the rigging swoops down under the monster’s control, strapping him tightly against the mast and holding him in place.

He thrashes against the ropes as the monster withdraws his hand from the woman’s chest a bright red and pulsating orb in his hand. At the sight of it, of her heart in the monster’s hand, he screams out again, and finally rips himself free, ropes and fastening hooks falling hard onto the deck of the ship, clattering loudly away.

He is at her side as she begins to crumble, hands blindly reaching out for him. He catches her, lowering her slowly to the deck of the ship as her bright jade eyes begin to fade, a hand reaching out to caress his cheek, her fingers warm against his cold, wind-burnt cheek.

“I love you,” she whispers.

The monster’s face twists in anger at that, and his fingers tighten around her heart, crushing it between his fingers. She gasps once in pain, but then her body goes limp in his grip and she is gone, gone as quickly as the dust from her heart scattering in the sea breeze.

No, no, no, no –

He hears himself murmuring denials over and over again as he lays her down on the deck, but there is nothing he can do. Nothing to save her, nothing to change what has just happened, nothing but avenge her.

“You may be more powerful now, demon, but you're no less a coward!” he shouts as he rises, rage magnifying and mounting with each moment, a roil like a storm at sea rushing over him, making him shake and vibrate with pure hatred and rage.

The monster doesn’t react, dust still escaping his fingers as he shakes his hand airily. He takes a step closer, his eyes glittering, and he holds his hand out.

“I’ll have what I came for now.”

“You’ll have to kill me first,” he snarls, and the monster smirks, his lips twisting in a cruel imitation of a smile.

“Ah, ah. I’m afraid that’s not in the cards for you, sonny boy.”

In a swift motion, so quickly there’s no time to move away or cry out, the monster draws a sword from his belt, and, with a bright flash of searing silver metal, strikes out at his hand.

The pain is instantaneous, white hot and torturous, each millisecond that the blade slices through the flesh, muscle, and bone of his left wrist more excruciating than the last. He drops to his knees, a scream of agony ripping from his mouth as he clutches at his hand, blood pouring through his other fingers, pooling around where he crouches, a sea of crimson and pain, a hot, swirling whirlpool of fury and rage and revenge –

_________

Wes starts awake from the dream as suddenly as he’d fallen into it, kicking and throwing the covers away from himself, the scream from his nightmare echoing around him. He is covered in a cold sweat, his entire body trembling. The clock on his bedside declares it to be 2:42 a.m., the bedroom still cloaked in darkness around him, and he relaxes slightly back against his pillows.

Ah, a dream.

Already the memories of the dream, so vivid and realistic, are fading as his mind slowly returns to reality. He grimaces, rubbing at the stumped end of his left arm, over the scars. The phantom pains from the loss of his hand have long since faded, but the pain he felt in his dream was so intense it feels as if it has just happened all over again.

There is pain in his right side too, a lingering echo from the dream. He runs his hand along his side, under his shirt, massaging the sore muscle. To his surprise there is a thin, raised bit of scar tissue that he has never noticed before. His fingers pause over it, hesitant and confused, but then he pulls away, roughly tugging his shirt down. A scar he doesn’t remember is nothing to worry about; he had a rough childhood, it’s not uncommon for him to discover some new scar he never noticed before.

But as soon as he thinks that, he realizes he can’t really remember much about his youth at all. There are blurs and images that seem true – huddling under the covers during a thunderstorm, working a dead-end job that left his hands rough and bruised, a tough adoptive father with an iron fist. But there is an emptiness to the memories, a nagging feeling that what little he does remember isn’t quite right.

He shakes his head, leaning down to gather the scattered bedcovers. He’s working too much. He shouldn’t have gone into the office today, especially not after the incident at the market. He’s had too much work, too much stress, and not near enough sleep.

He scrubs at his eyes, his head hitting the pillow hard as he falls back horizontally. Blinking up at the dark ceiling several times, his mind returning to the faint memories of the dream that still remain. It had felt so real, the rough wooden planks beneath his feet, the warm sun on his face, the woman standing in front of him with her dark curls and warm eyes.

It’s been a while since he dreamt of her, even though there’s a thought of her every day, a pained clench of his heart when he passes her drawings that litter his apartment or when he sees the tattoo on his arm. His dreams are usually restricted to the night she died, all those years ago now, and he shakes his head, rolling over in bed. Henry’s story about pirates have clearly gotten to him, twisting her death and his memories of it to fit into his elaborate story of Wes’s real past. Because that’s all it is, after all – a story.

_________

Emma jogs up the path to the Mayor’s house at quarter to ten the following morning. She reaches out to knock, but the door cracks open before she has the chance, Henry poking his head out.

“Is Mr. Newport with you?” he whispers.

“No,” Emma replies, a bit amused at Henry’s wide-eyed expression. “He said he’ll meet us there.” Then, she frowns, wondering if he’s changed his mind about inviting the treasurer along. “Why do you ask?”

“Just making sure.”

He opens the door enough for Emma to step into the large foyer, and she obliges, though sends Henry another curious glance.

“Why’d you even invite him along? I thought you didn’t like him.”

Henry sends a quick, panicked look to the closed door that leads to the kitchen, but it is still firmly closed, and then he turns back to her. “I don’t,” he says, voice hushed. “But this is for Operation Cobra.”

Emma blinks back at him. “What?”

“I’m trying to make him remember, Emma,” Henry says, as if it’s obvious. “If anything should trigger his memories, seeing his ship should.”

Emma closes her eyes briefly, biting back her rebuff. All right, I’ll play along.

“I thought you said Captain Hook was a villain,” she says, her own voice a whisper now. “Wouldn’t it be bad if he remembered?”

“Maybe, but he’s the closest we’ve come so far, and if he really does remember, you’ll just have to arrest him so he can’t do any harm until we figure out a way for you to break the curse on everyone else too.”

Emma can just imagine filling out the arrest report. NAME: CAPTAIN HOOK. CRIME: PIRACY AND GENERAL VILLAINY. SUGGESTED HOLDING TIME: UNTIL THE EVIL QUEEN’S CURSE BREAKS.

As if summoned by Emma’s thoughts, the kitchen door opens then to reveal Regina, a glare on her face and she sniffs when she sees Emma, standing in her pristine foyer with Henry.

“Ah, you’re here, Miss Swan. Henry told me you want to take him to the Maritime Museum?”

Emma nods, and prays Regina is in a good enough mood this morning to actually let her. “He mentioned he had lots of fun there on his field trip, and I thought he’d like to see some of the exhibits again.”

A perfect eyebrow raises, and Regina regards her coldly. “Museums don’t seem like your kind of place, Miss Swan. They’re cultured.”

Emma ignores the jab, though her hand curls into a fist at her side. “I’m always up for museums,” she says tightly. “Especially if Henry wants to go.”

Regina is unimpressed, and Henry quickly pipes up, “Please? I really want to see the museum again before I get too busy at school. This weekend is perfect. Please, Mom?”

Maybe it’s Henry use of Mom in front of Emma that softens the cold mayor, because a small sigh escapes her lips and she smiles at Henry.

“Fine. I suppose it is educational after all.”

Henry nods eagerly and even wraps his arms around Regina in a hug. “Thanks! See you later!”

And before Regina gets a chance to change her mind, Henry has released Regina and is grabbing Emma and pulling her out the door, slamming the front door shut behind them.

Once they're in the car, Henry spots the storybook that Emma had brought back for him from the diner and he excitedly pulls it towards him.

“Okay,” he says seriously, and when Emma glances over to him, she sees that he’s opened the book again to the page where the man – Captain Hook – stands at the helm of the ship. “The museum opens at 10, but the outside part – where the ship is – doesn’t open till 11. So, we’ve got lots of time to look through the stuff in the museum before going out. I didn’t recognize any of it from the book, but I was also trying to finish my worksheet, so I could have missed something. Anything there could be a trigger for Mr. Newport to remember too.”

Emma nods along as Henry lays out his plan for the day, which just mostly involves a lot of subtly quizzing Newport about anything that catches his interest, and when Emma pulls the bug to a stop at the museum, she is sure she’s heard the plan about twelve times by now.

Newport’s car isn’t in the parking lot, but the day is warm and bright, and she assumes he’s walking instead of driving. The instant the thought crosses her mind, Emma comes to a dead stop; the thought that she would just assume something already about this man she’s only really known for a couple weeks freaks Emma right the hell out.

“Emma?” Henry calls, giving her a curious look, and she shakes herself. She has enough to deal with today, mainly trying to not let Henry offend Newport with his Captain Hook talk, let alone dwell on whatever it means that she’s already easily predicting Newport’s preferences.

“Sorry, kid, coming.”

As she predicted, beside the entrance to the museum, leaning up against the old wooden building, is Newport. He’s dressed more casually today, like he was at the farmer’s market, in a grey sweater and dark pants, and he’s holding a coffee tray, three styrofoam cups with Granny’s written across them. He grins at them as they approach, waving his gloved prosthetic hand in greeting.

“Hi!” Henry shouts back, bounding up to him. “I’m glad you came!”

“Of course, I said I would,” Newport replies, and he taps one of the cups with his prosthetic hand. “A hot chocolate for you, Henry.” He accepts it eagerly, and Newport holds out the tray to Emma too. “And a coffee for you, Swan. Two cream, two sugar.”

His smile is warm, but it makes Emma freeze; she’s not the only one easily able to predict the other’s preferences it seems.

“Oh, uh, thanks,” she says, her voice coming out cooler than she intended, and she plucks the cup from the tray. His smile falters, and Emma turns away, gripping the coffee tightly as she focuses on Henry. “Let’s go, kid.”

There are a few other people in the museum already, browsing and paying them no attention. Emma sticks close to Henry through the first exhibit, which is focused on lighthouses around Storybrooke. There are old photographs of the lighthouses and the artifacts from them, including lanterns, lighthouse keepers’ journals, and old telescopes.

Newport follows them, nodding along with Henry as he chatters excitedly at the different cases of items and photographs. Henry drops the stray comment here and there about sailors and ships, followed by a furtive glance to Newport, but Newport’s expression remains neutral, interested but not overly so.

“A beacon of hope to many a lost sailor,” he murmurs, staring at the brass lantern, old and worn by time. He glances behind him, smiling at Emma, who doesn’t return his smile, still stuck on what it means that she knew he would walk here and he knows her coffee order.

He straightens, tugging at the collar of his sweater uncomfortably, and says, “Right. Shall we continue?”

Oblivious to the tension, Henry bounds excitedly after Newport into the next exhibit, Emma dragging her feet behind them. Henry half-drags Newport over to a glass case full of knotted ropes, and as Newport smiles in amusement at Henry’s explanation of the different types of knots, a jolt of guilt hits her hard in the gut.

Goddamn it. She’s hardly spoken two words to him since they arrived, giving him the cold shoulder cause of her own issues, and yet here he is, as pleasant as can be, spending his Sunday with his boss’s kid at a fricking museum of all places.

Goddamn it, Emma.

She swallows heavily, grinding her teeth together. She’s got her own issues, yeah, but that’s not Newport’s fault. It’s not his fault she gets freaked out by even the thought that he knows her well enough to get her coffee order right.

She trails behind Henry and Newport into the next room, hardly listening to Henry’s excited chatter about the room full of artifacts from early sailors and pioneers, and as he bounds ahead to one of the cases, she falls into step beside Newport.

“Thanks for coming with us,” Emma says, smiling as warmly as she can muster. “I know this probably isn’t the most ideal way to spend a Sunday afternoon, but –”

Newport shoots her a surprised look. “Oh, no, Emma. This is a marvelous way to spend a day.”

“Wandering around a museum with a kid you barely know?” she says, forcing her voice light and joking. “Your idea of marvelous is very different than mine.”

Instantly, Emma freezes, realizing that could be interpreted as her not enjoying being here with Henry, because, after all, he’s a kid she barely knows, and she quickly adds, “I – I don’t mean I’m not having a good time with Henry, I – you know, I was just saying –”

“I know, Swan.”

She glances to him, flustered, but finds him looking away, down at one of the cases with an old compass, his brow furrowed. Emma wasn’t looking too closely before, for said ‘issues’, but now that she’s looking at him, she notices dark circles under his eyes, his face paler than usual, his eyes slightly bloodshot.

“Are you okay, Wes? You look tired.”

“I’m fine,” he replies quickly, looking away from the compass and clearing his throat at her expression. “I, uh – had trouble sleeping last night.” He lifts his coffee cup up as if in salute, forcing a smile onto his face that comes nowhere close to reaching his eyes. “But that’s what this is for.”

Emma frowns, unsatisfied with that answer, but Henry appears then, dragging them towards the next room. There’s an eager gleam to Henry’s eyes and Emma soon realizes why – this next room is the key attracting feature of the museum, at least, in Henry’s eyes.

Pirates.

The room is full of glass cases, each with a bright light shining down on the artifacts within, making them glow throughout the room. The smaller cases are full of gleaming silver chains, thick round gold coins and worn pieces of parchment, with paintings and portraits on the wall of famous (and infamous) pirates and their ships. A large case in the centre of the room is full of swords, each with different handles and curves to their blades, while the largest display in the centre of the room holds an actual cannon, aimed as if to shoot them as they enter the room.

Emma may not be cultured as Regina put it, but she does know how to appreciate a good museum display, and this is one of the most fascinating rooms Emma has ever seen.

“Wow,” Newport says, echoing her thoughts, and Henry shoots Emma a triumphant look, and grabs onto his arm.

“Come look at this case, Mr. Newport!”

Henry drags Newport from case to case, watching him like a hawk as they move through the room. He’s practically bouncing on his heels, waiting for any indication that something will trigger his ‘cursed’ memories. But like at the previous cases, Newport’s interest remains neutral, positive but nothing extreme or reminiscent of someone ‘remembering’ a past life or whatever Henry thinks is going to happen.

At the fourth case, when they’re looking at the collection of swords, Newport clues into Henry’s game. Henry’s asking him about what sword he would like to use if he was a pirate or if he’d like another weapon, like a hook.

His voice is ever so innocent, but Newport raises an eyebrow at him, exchanging a quick look with Emma over Henry’s head. Emma feels another twinge in her stomach; not only is he spending the day with a kid he doesn’t really know, it just so happens to be a kid who thinks he’s the actual incarnation of a Disney villain in cahoots with his evil mother.

“Ah, I don’t know,” Newport says to Henry, his voice giving nothing away, looking back to the case of swords. He taps the lid, and continues, “This one here is, uh, sharp.”

Henry blinks, a flash of disappointment across his face. “Sharp? Is – is that it?” He lets out a hard sigh, but then steels himself, determination replacing his momentary disappointment. “Right. Okay, well, come look at this next case. There’s some stuff in here I think you’ll like.”

Henry leads them eagerly to more display cases, one after another, watching Newport carefully for any sign an item might mean something to him. They look at displays with old trunks, empty liquor bottles, ripped flags, dusty hats. Newport maintains a polite interest in the items as they go on, and it’s apparent Henry is becoming increasingly desperate and frustrated.

“Hey, kid,” Emma starts, deciding that it’s time she put an end to this. What was she thinking, allowing Henry to go on like this, dragging a man he actually thinks is a pirate through an exhibit of pirate artifacts? “I think – I think that we’ve been here long enough, what do you think? I bet Mr. Newport wants to see some of the pioneer stuff again, that was really cool, right, Wes?”

Henry speaks before Newport has a chance, shaking his head vigorously. “No, no! Come on, Mr. Newport, look at this stuff, this is the last case here –”

Newport sends Emma an apologetic shrug as Henry pulls him onwards, stopping him in front of a case full of old jewellery. It’s crowded with rows upon rows of rings and necklaces and bracelets. Newport dutifully looks down at the case, and though he’s appeared politely interested before, this time a strange expression crosses his face.

Henry sends Emma a triumphant look, and asks, “Anything – anything stand out to you?”

Newport doesn’t reply immediately. His gaze is lingering on a thick banded silver ring, a single glittering garnet set between two raised flower emblems, but when he straightens, his expression is impassive and cool again.

“Uh, no. It’s all very interesting.”

Henry regards him silently for a long moment, his brow scrunched in through, before he nods once, a trace of grin appearing on his lips. “Alright. That’s okay. Well, that’s the last exhibit here, but the outside part is gonna open soon, so we have to go see that. It’s my favourite part, I bet you’ll love it too.”

He casts a significant look to Emma at that, and she resists the urge to roll her eyes. The outside portion of the museum is where they keep the pirate ship that ‘apparently’ belonged to Newport.

Since they still have a few minutes to wait, Newport excuses himself to wander around the exhibit again, and he’s hardly five feet away from them before Henry turns to her, tugging on her arm excitedly.

“Did you see that, Emma? His reaction to the ring? I knew that would, I saw that ring in the book – but, it wasn’t enough, that’s okay – wait till he sees the ship outside!”

Emma grits her teeth, trying to bite her tongue and failing. “Henry –”

He ignores her, continuing, with a furtive glance over to Newport, “I need to look at my book again before we go outside to check if there’s anything else here we need to look at. Distract him, okay?”

“Henry,” Emma says again, warningly, but he’s already scampering away, off to a bench near the archway to the next room. He looks back to her significantly, jerking his head towards Newport, and Emma mutters a swear, finally moving over to join Newport.

He’s back at one of the cases, peering down at the handful of ripped flags in this one. He turns at her presence, his eyes finding Henry sitting down a few feet away.

“Everything alright, Swan?”

“Yeah, it’s all good. Listen, sorry about all this.” She glances behind her, but Henry’s head is buried in his book, and she lowers her voice even further as she says, “Henry – he really believes this stuff. But hopefully if he sees that you don’t suddenly remember that you’re actually a pirate, it might – well, it might do him some good.”

Newport nods, and his smile is genuine, if not a little sad. “I hope so too.”

She glances back to Henry, but his head is still buried in his book, and she sighs. “Well, I’ve been instructed to distract you until we can go outside – want to have another look around?”

Henry’s dragged them through most of the cases already, but as they make a loop around the room, Newport notices one they didn’t look at before. It features a bright, golden instrument, emblazoned with an elaborate chart on one side, some if it pinpointed with delicate clear crystals with adjoining sharp white lines.

“Cool,” Emma says, thinking it looks like a strange combination of a toy boat and a telescope. “What the hell is it?”

“It’s a sextant,” Newport replies, and Emma glances to him, eyes narrowing. For a wild moment, her mind falls down the rabbit hole of how the hell could he know that until she notices the card in front of the golden object: golden sextant – a sailor’s tool for navigation.

Oh. Of course.

“Well, it’s certainly bejewelled enough to belong to a pirate,” Emma comments, a bit wryly, but Newport doesn’t react to her comment.

He’s looking at the sextant with a furrowed brow, a slight twist to his lips. His frown deepens as he peers closer at the sextant, hand coming to rest on the glass separating it from them. For a moment, his eyes narrow in confusion, but then he removes his hand and shrugs, as if shaking off a chill.

Emma herself feels goosebumps rising on the back of her neck and her arms, unexpectedly taken aback by his reaction.

“You okay, Wes?”

“Hmm?” he replies, tearing his gaze away from the sextant. “Oh, yes, I’m fine.”

Henry bounds back up to them, then, his storybook clutched tightly in his arms, and he grins widely. “Come on, the outside part is open now! Let’s go!”

Newport’s reaction to the sextant lurks in Emma’s mind as they follow Henry towards the harbour door, but as they exit the museum and out onto the adjoining dock, the thought disappears at the sight of a massive pirate ship right in front of her.

“Holy crap.”

Even Emma has to admit, this ship does look a great deal like the book’s drawing. Sleek brown timbers, with bright yellows, reds, and blues painted along the hull that stand a vibrant contrast to the pure white keel. The ship has white sails too, but they’re still tied up in bunches around the masts, and countless ropes and weights hang in the free air. Even without the huge white sails unfurled, it still looks majestic and the sight of it there, in little Storybrooke’s harbour, takes her breath away.

She’s not the only one; Newport is staring up at the ship, eyes wide in astonishment.

“Pretty cool, huh?”

Henry’s words snap them both out of it, a knowing grin on his face. Emma shoots him a look, and Newport quickly schools his features into a neutral, only vaguely interested expression.

“Aye,” he says, but he’s not so easily able to mask his voice – it’s strained, uncomfortable, and he clears his throat quickly. “It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before.”

“Really?” Henry says at once, almost daring him to deny it. “You’ve never seen it before?”

Newport glances over to Henry, and his expression is sad, almost disappointed, as if some part of him was hoping for a different answer, and he shakes his head.

“No, never.”

Though he’s kept up a good amount of determination up until now, through all the exhibits of Newport’s muted responses, at the reaction to the ship, Henry deflates, all his excitement and hope draining out of him in an instant.

“Oh. I thought – oh.”

Newport and Emma exchange a look, Newport looking uncomfortable and apologetic. Emma bends down so she can see Henry eye-to-eye, swallowing back her own discomfort at not knowing what to say to him. She was hoping for this outcome, in a twisted way, that he’d see Newport doesn’t know anything, but she hates the look it has created on Henry’s face. It may all be a fantasy, but Henry believes it, and was sincerely hoping this would reveal that his life isn’t as he thought it was. And after all, Emma knows exactly how it feels to wish your reality was different than it truly is.

“Want to keep looking, Henry?” she asks, as gently as she can. “It looks like we can go onto the ship.”

He shakes his head, shifting his storybook so he’s hugging it tighter against his chest, turning away from the ship. “No. If this didn’t work … the curse is stronger than I thought.” He pauses, and then shrugs, looking sad and lost. “I’m tired. Can we go home now?”

“Yeah,” Emma replies, and she grips his shoulder tightly in what she hopes is comforting. “Of course.”

She steers Henry back inside, Newport a few steps behind them, after casting one final look back towards the ship. They navigate their way through the exhibits again, and when they’re back outside at the front of the museum, Emma turns to Newport before heading to her car. “Do you want a ride home?”

He doesn’t answer, frowning to himself. He’s been quiet since they left the ship and it takes Emma saying his name twice before he jolts, as if shaking himself as if out of a trance.

“Sorry, love. My thoughts are out to sea. What did you say?”

“Do you want a ride back to your place? It’s on the way to Regina’s.”

He shakes his head slowly, looking vaguely out behind her, to the lapping waters of the harbour, to the tall masts of the pirate ship still visible over the building. “No, thank you, love. I – I think I’d like a walk along the water.”

Emma frowns, slight goosebumps raising on her neck again. But he’s turning to Henry, bending down to be at his level.

“Goodbye, Henry. Thank you for inviting me today. I had a lovely time.”

Henry nods, unconvinced, saying “Bye, Mr. Newport” as he turns towards the car.

Newport and Emma exchange another look, before Emma waves goodbye and turns to follow Henry. She glances back before getting into the car; Newport is where she left him, staring out at the harbour.

Emma shakes her head, pushing aside her own lingering questions for now, and gets into the car. Henry is quiet the entire ride back to Regina’s house, staring out the window with a frown.

It makes Emma’s heart twinge. Though she was hoping Henry would see that Newport is a normal guy, not some storybook pirate, the fact that this is hurting Henry so much – well, Emma finds herself almost wishing there had been some truth to the story, if only not to see the sad expression on her kid’s face.

But that’s the thing about Henry believing these stories, Emma reasons, her resolve turning to steel. It’s only going to keep hurting him – and she needs to get him back to reality.

#cs ff #cs mc ff #the line break things don't work anymore so excuse the formatting #also idk about this chapter and emma in it but alas #cs fic #from the sea #captain swan

29 notes · View notes

eldritchsurveys · 5 years

Text

228.

Do you or have you ever owned a cup with your name on it? >> No.

What's the most expensive crafts tool that you own? >> I don’t think I own any expensive crafts tools at all. Low-budget crafts usually suit me fine.

Have you ever woven baskets of any kind (wicker, paper, cardboard etc.)? >> No.

How do you like Great Balls of Fire by Jerry Lee Lewis? >> It’s a catchy tune.

Speaking of Jerry Lee Lewis, have you seen the biopic about him? >> No.

How about the biopic about Tina Turner? >> What’s Love Got to Do With It? I saw it a long time ago.

Do you like the TV-show Frasier? >> I do find it funny, but I don’t go out of my way to watch it.

What's something you know by heart? >> Aside from, like, the Litany Against Fear, and various song lyrics, I don’t think I have anything memorised anymore.

What is something you're greedy about? >> I don’t know what, specifically, I’m greedy about.

How valuable does a coin have to be for you to bother to pick it up? >> I’d pick up a quarter. I’d definitely pick up a dollar coin.

What would be something you would wait in line to get for free? >> Well, that depends on how I feel and how long the line is more than what the item is.

Has there ever been a leak anywhere in your house? >> Not in this apartment.

Have you ever slipped in the shower? >> Slipped but not fallen, thankfully.

Have you ever made any decorative crafts? If so, are they displayed? >> I’ve made decorative crafts at some point in my life, but I don’t have any now.

Is it very humid where you are right now? >> Not at all. Winter is very dry up here, much to my agony.

What is the most suggestive thing someone has said to you? >> I... don’t know? “Hey, wanna fuck?” Like... lmao.

Do you have friends who you playfully flirt with? >> Not really.

Doesn't the Z in the Bzoink logo look like an L to you, too? >> Not really.

Did you ever take that 5000 question survey that was circulating Tumblr? >> I took it when it was circulating MySpace and then when it was circulating Xanga.

Have you ever had to change a zipper in your favourite article of clothing? >> No.

Do you prefer buttons or zippers in general? >> Zippers, I guess.

Did you grandma have a box full of pretty buttons? >> ---

What's the most exotic spice in your spice rack? >> I don’t think of any spices as “exotic”. They’re just spices.

Do buttons tempt you to press them? >> Sometimes.

Do you have a favourite television host? >> No.

What's your opinion on celebrity chefs? >> I enjoy some of them, I don’t care about some of them, and there’s a lot of them I don’t even know of.

Back when it first started, did you watch ANTM? >> No.

Did you know, that there was even a Finnish version of ANTM? Miss Jay made an appearance in the first season, too. >> I mean, that doesn’t surprise me.

Are you accident prone? >> No.

Have you ever broken something really valuable? >> Yeah.

What do you see as timeless? >> I... can’t think of anything.

What is something that you own, that has sentimental value? >> A Phantom of the Opera teddy bear.

Have you ever had your own website? >> I’ve made attempts at it, using Angelfire and Wix and so on. But nothing that lasted. I applied my HTML savvy to making Vampirefreaks layouts instead, was a lot more fun.

What's your favourite board game? >> I don’t have one.

How about your favourite card game? >> I don’t have one.

What's something that you finished recently? >> The last book in the Losing Christina trilogy by Caroline B Cooney.

What's the smallest town you recall visiting? >> I don’t even know. There’s been a lot of them and I don’t know which one is smallest.

What's the longest distance you've had to go to work or school? >> I don’t remember.

Would you learn a new language, if you didn't share one with your lover? >> I don’t understand this question.

Do you have friends who are constantly tagging you in challenges on FB? >> ---

When it comes to chocolate, do you prefer nougat, jelly or caramel filling? >> I prefer no chocolate.

Are you more concerned about winning than just participating? >> No.

Has somebody you know taken their own life? >> No.

What is a number that has some significance to you? Why is that? >> 19. Because I’m a Tower Junkie.

Do you prefer onions, leeks or chives? >> I’ve never had leeks but I do like both onions and chives.

What's the most adult thing you have to do every day? >> I... what. I don’t know. Exist?

What's the most immature thing you like to do every day? >> *shrug*???

Have you seen the movie, Clue? If so, isn't it fab? >> Never seen it.

Do your cheeks get flushed easily? Do you blush easily in general? >> I don’t blush.

Are there any social cues you miss entirely? >> Of course.

When someone doesn't smile back at you, what's your first thought? >> I don’t really think much of anything. No one owes me a smile back just because I smile at them. It’s like giving a gift and expecting one in return just because you gave one. Doesn’t that defeat the purpose of gift-giving?

Is there a person who melts your heart just by looking at you? >> No. What does that even mean.

Have you ever had tom kha kai? It's a Thai coconut soup, and it's amazing. We serve it at work. >> I’ve never had it, but I’m intrigued.

Have you, or anyone you know ever been rude to a server? >> I’m sure someone I know has been rude to a server at some point. I don’t think I’ve ever been, though. Not intentionally, at least.

What's something you're opinionated and very vocal about? When's the last time you had to verbally defend your stance? >> I don’t know, I can’t remember off the top of my head.

Have you ever played BitLife? I sort of got hooked on it, it's like sims but in text form. >> Never heard of it.

What's something you regularly order online? >> CBD.

When's the last time you made a penpal? >> I have never had a pen pal.

Do you often make friends online? >> I make acquaintances often. I don’t know about friends.

Do people ever try to get something from somebody through you? As in, they ask you to ask the person they should be asking in the first place. If that makes sense. >> That doesn’t happen much now. When I was younger, yeah.

What do you think when you see a couple holding hands? >> I don’t think anything. Doesn’t even register as something worth thinking about.

Is there anything you're forced to share with someone else? >> Yeah, an apartment. Pfft.

What's something stripy that you own? >> I don’t think I own anything striped. Oh, part of my Sleigher sweater is striped.

How about something polka dotted? >> I definitely don’t own anything polka-dot.

What is something you find absolutely appalling? >> Whatever it is, I can’t think of it now.

Do you like elevators? >> I’m indifferent.

What's the first thing that comes to mind when I say "midnight madness"? >> I have no mental association for that phrase.

What is a country you would never want to visit? >> I don’t know.

When you're angry, does it ever get physical? >> I’m rarely angry in the first place, so I don’t know.

What do you do, when you're immensely happy? >> I’m also rarely immensely happy, so I’m not sure about this one either. I have pretty low-grade intensity emotions.

What made you scream out loud the last time you screamed? >> I don’t scream.

Can you hear your neighbours through the wall? >> Sometimes.

What is something that frustrates you to no end? >> Disruptive sounds that I can’t do anything about.

Do you wear shoes indoors? >> No.

Who is your favourite stand-up comedian? >> Dylan Moran and Bo Burnham.

What's the weirdest video youtube has suggested to you? >> It doesn’t really suggest weird videos to me.

What's the funniest infomercial you've seen? >> ---

Is there a drink that just goes right through you? >> Er... no more than any other?

Is there a food item you can't eat because it doesn't agree with you? >> Probably. Whatever it is, I haven’t eaten it.

Do you playfully compete with someone about something? >> No.

Would you rather swim or run? >> I can’t swim and I don’t like running.

Do you like the smell of tar? >> Yeah, a little.

Have you ever been to a sauna? >> No. That level of heat and humidity would knock me out.

Does your doorbell ring unexpectedly often? >> Sometimes people will just ring random doorbells and it’s really fucking annoying, but it doesn’t happen that often.

Is your favourite fictional character a human, an animal or something else? >> Hm.

Have you ever helped a stranger? If so, what did you do? >> I mean, yes, I’ve helped strangers, but I can’t think of a specific incident right now.

Do you share hobbies with any of your friends? What do you do together? >> ---

Do you have any flags on display? If so, what flag(s)? >> No.

#surveys #survey #random survey

2 notes · View notes

green-grape-gaze · 6 years

Text

Soon

This was absolutely perfect and long and I certainly stayed up way too late. However, it was worth it! Thanks for taking my prompt stranger!

You: The medics informed me that you left before they could properly discharge you. AH How are you feeling? AH

Stranger: They did not need to keep me longer than necessary. They're paranoid. KR

Stranger: I'm fine. Tired. KR

You: Are you in pain at all? AH

Stranger: No. KR

You: And your wounds are all accounted for? AH

Stranger: Yes. Stop worrying, Hux. I'm fine. KR

You: [Delayed] Yes, well... They seemed very concerned when you left. AH I merely wanted to ensure you weren't bleeding out. AH

Stranger: Concerned, why? KR

You: [Long Delay] it hardly matters so long as you are truly fine. AH

Stranger: I am. KR

You: Good. Then I will ensure they were aware. AH

Stranger: Noted. Anything else? KR

You: [Delayed] How was your mission? AH

Stranger: It went well. Disposed of the traitors. KR

You: Of course. Will you be sending in a report? AH

Stranger: Is it necessary? KR

You: You're supposed to send a report for every mission, Ren. AH

Stranger: Am I? KR

You: Yes, you are. AH

Stranger: Tedious. KR

You: It isn't meant to be enjoyable, Ren. AH

Stranger: You know I rarely bother, Hux. KR

You: Yes, I do know and it's rather maddening. AH I have to hunt down the troopers you are within in order to adequately fill out a report for you. AH

Stranger: Why waste your time? KR

You: Because I need the reports for my meetings, Ren. AH I need the documentation in order to support our budgeting and our programs. AH It may seem as though it is a waste of time, but if I want to ensure our budget remains funded, then I have to prove that. AH

Stranger: You send me out to kill people, Hux. I don't see what that has to do with your funding. KR

You: How much do you think it costs to run a ship, Ren? AH To ensure the troopers are well fed, that we have the weapons we need and the resources we have? AH A mission costs money. To justify the money for a mission, I have to prove that it was beneficial. I can't do that without reports. AH

Stranger: Tsk. KR

You: [Delayed] I don't know why I bothered trying to explain. AH Let me know if you need anything, Ren. AH

Stranger: I will be training. KR

You: Are you sure that is wise right now? AH

Stranger: I'm fine. KR

You: I don't believe you. AH

Stranger: Why? KR

You: Because your perception of 'fine' is horribly skewed. AH

Stranger: Skewed? Its not skewed. I'm not bleeding out, so I'm fine. KR

You: Just because you're not bleeding out doesn't mean it isn't bad or that your body is ready, Ren. AH

Stranger: A couple of breaks is nothing. I can deal with it. KR

You: [Delayed] A couple of breaks? AH I'm coming to see you now. AH

Stranger: Going to insist I return to medical? KR

You: Depending on your injuries, yes. AH

Stranger: [..] I've dealt with worse. Its nothing to worry about. I don't need to go back there. KR

You: I don't believe you. AH

Stranger: You worry too much. KR

You: Perhaps, but it is all valid. AH Are you in your quarters? AH

Stranger: Yes. KR

You: Perfect. I'm on my way. AH Don't even think about leaving or training, Ren. AH

Stranger: Fine. KR

You: Thank you. AH I will be there shortly. AH

Stranger: Very well. KR

You: This was absolutely ridiculous and Hux couldn't stop himself from caring entirely too much about it. The idea that Ren might actually contemplate training whilst injured was wholly beyond him. Was there a particular reason as to why the man couldn't just let his body rest or at least let the medics finish clearing him for battle? No. The Knight was just being idiotic and stubborn. Thinking of the situation alone was causing the General far too much stress. Hux was just barely resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose or rub at his temples. Instead, the man drew in a sharp breath as if it might aid him in warding off the headache that was surely building. Not that it would matter in the next moment. Without bother to alert the man, the redhead used his override code to gain access and stepped into the Knight's quarters already prepared for a verbal battle. "The sooner you let me see your injuries, the sooner I will be out of your hair." Hux started before Ren could even think of saying anything. "So long as your injuries aren't severe of course... Now then, let me see them." The General finished, glancing towards the brunet expectantly.

Stranger: Glowering flatly at the man that had come into his sights, non too pleased about being bothered about /minor/ (his version) wounds, Ren groused, " You need to find something better to do. " Naturally though, after a mission he is drained, tired and unwilling to put up too much of a physical ( or verbal ) fight, which explained why he caved so easily. Normally, he'd find a way to get out of the situation in order to avoid being needlessly pestered over something so trivial. Shrugging off his cowl, cloak and the heavy layers of his robes, he thought nothing of it. Once he gets a look at the injuries, he'll go away. Right? Right. Hopefully. Bone breaks are nothing serious to him, as the Force can do wonders for such injuries. It can numb them to the point where he can even walk on a broken leg and not be aware of it until hours, even a few /days/ later. Of course, this is also why he believes them to be /minor/. Any other person would be doubled over, wailing from the agony.

You: "Perhaps. However, I'm off rotation currently and have the free time to do whatever I choose." Hux countered immediately, his gaze sharp and severe as he observed every minuscule movement or twitch from the Knight. The General wanted to ensure that he missed nothing in the exam; no finer details or meager scratches would go unnoticed. And to top it all of, he could already see how tired the other man was. That alone had the redhead stepping closer with the intent to hover until he had a full list of Ren's ailments or wounds. "Which bones are broken, Ren?" The man inquired, letting his fingers curl into his palms to form tight fists as the desire to touch overwhelmed him. He wanted to smooth his fingers over the Knight's tired muscles, perhaps even ease away any aches or pains that settled deep into his bones. He was already doing too much, already far too involved, yet he couldn't stop himself from pressing even more. "Have you even had anything to eat? Any water?"

Stranger: " Two lowest ribs on the right. " Begrudgingly giving that up, Ren rolled his shoulders back a few times and then stepped away, albeit awkwardly as he had also acquired a limp whilst out on that mission. He promptly sat himself down on the edge of his bed, careful to not aggravate the still healing wounds, the majority surface lacerations which were already treated. As much as they could be, anyway, before he snapped at a droid or medic that prodded at him too much. He despised medical environments and anything to do with them. Didn't really help his cause, he knew, but that's the way it is and its unlikely to change. " I ate before I returned. " Sometimes, he learns to predict certain things. Medics are more probable to leave him be if he has eaten and he will do what it takes to get them off his back.

You: As soon as Ren told him about his ribs, Hux felt the panic settle into his chest. "You're telling me that you're just walking around with two broken ribs and no proper care for them?" He inquired with full rhetoric as he followed the man. The limp did not go unseen by the man and he made it very obvious. "What's wrong with your leg, Ren?" The redhead bit out, his gaze traveling over the man's skin to survey the lacerations and gashes. How could the man possibly be alive now? How had he not succumbed to infections? How was it possible that the brunet had not lost any serious functionality? Finally giving into the headache beginning to pound at the back of his skull, Hux pinched the bridge of his nose and forced himself to breathe. "What else is there? We have your ribs, and your leg... What else is there?" He asked as he sat down right beside the brunet, his thumb and forefinger rubbing along his nose.

Stranger: In truth, given his promise to leave the man's mind alone, even his surface thoughts, he has no idea what has brought this on. This is more than usual. Far more. Normally, if he were to escape medical or just leave prior to proper discharge ( most of the time ), Hux warns him and that's that. Unless he's trailing blood around, then there's an exception to be made. Nonetheless, he's again reluctant though he willingly answers, " That's it, Hux. There's nothing else. " Pause. Its obvious to him, now, that its very apparent how much this situation has affected the General. A headache? Definitely. Judging by his responses and the constant attention to his nose - or well, the bridge of it. Its a clear indicator. So why is he here despite having his own afflictions?

You: Wonderful. Just the ribs and the leg. "How is your breathing, Ren?" Hux pressed, dropping his hand in order to fully look at the Knight. He knew he was being obvious, he knew there wasn't any going back from this. He'd already displayed too much of his hand and now he wouldn't be able to hide all of his cards again. He'd do the very same next time and the time after that. He'd second guess the brunet's words and all because some medic had felt the need to prod the General for attention. He wasn't good at any of this and he only had basic training, but they had mistakenly assumed he could fix whatever ailment the man had come down with. It was better that he saw to the Knight than just simply leaving him alone and Hux had fallen for it because he actually cared. Biting down on the inside of his cheek until he could taste blood, the redhead forced himself to stand, smoothing out his uniform. "I'm going to have a droid bring you more bacta bandages and some pain medication. I won't pressure you to return to the medical bay, but I want you to let him see your ribs. Just in case they need binding."

Stranger: Ren just regards him in a tired manner, the lack of bite and snark terribly evident. " Fine. " Why is he so compliant? He wished he knew, but, well, he doesn't. It made no sense to him as to why he even went as far as to /agree/. Granted, yes when he's tired, he's easier to work with.. Shaking his head rapidly to get rid of those thoughts before they could really go anywhere, Ren resisted the urge to get up and make himself scarce. At least if he did that, he'd be left alone. Medics know damn well to stay away from the destroyer's training rooms, primarily because they'll get caught up in whatever he's doing and after one or two incidents, they learned. Droids, on the other hand, are just infuriating little machines. They'll go away if he tells them to or threatens them in some manner.

You: "Perfect. Then you won't mind my waiting until the droid arrives either," came the swift remark as the man called for the droid. "I'd rather not leave it unattended... I know how you are when you become frustrated with them." Hux murmured, his gaze softening just slightly as he searched the Knight's face. He immediately looked away, trying to act all the world as if this were normal-as if he would do this for any higher ranking officer. He knew better and it wouldn't be surprising to the man if Ren did as well. As soon as the droid finished, the General would leave with it and act as if nothing happened until the next time the medics came to whisper into his ear. He could avoid this desire, could avoid wanting to brush Ren's hair from his face and gentle scold him in between kisses. He bit down on the inside of his cheek in order to distract himself from the wish. He didn't stop even when he could taste the blood.

Stranger: ..and that idea is promptly voided. Exhaling on a sigh, Ren leaned forward to rest both arms on his knees, immediately regretting it. The pain was already starting to tear through his barriers and he could only keep them there for so long before it exhausted him. That particular mission, while successful, had nearly done him in- just one more reason for him to avoid tapping out a report- and he's really just barely staying stitched together. Lovely. Rubbing at one side of his face, he refrains from muttering something along the lines of 'they have it coming'. If given a choice, he'd avoid them altogether. He supposes technically he does, but Snoke would be on his back for causing the General problems, seeing as things are going so smoothly.

You: Hux's gaze shifted to the man once he leaned forward and felt his resolve slowly crumbling. He tightened his grip within his fists and moved them behind his back in order to keep himself from reaching out. He desperately wanted to smooth his hands over the Knight's face, to lay the man down and urge him to rest with gentle touches. It was pathetic but he wanted so horribly to do everything he possibly could not. Hux looked away before the sight of the Knight further encouraged his impulses. He stood in silence instead, his thoughts so very loud and caustic as he warred with himself until the supplies came. It had to have been five, perhaps seven minutes at most, but it was certainly far too long. Hux watched as the droid made its way over to the Knight, the redhead's sharp gaze following it as it beeped and whirred loudly. "Let it do what it needs to do and you'll be free to relax, Ren." The General murmured, gesturing for the bot to begin.

Stranger: Again, Ren glowers and remains still, only moving where absolutely need be. Fortunately, the only real sign of pain is in the furrow of his brow and the way he does shift whenever prompted by the infuriating little machine. Damned thing. Indeed, its getting to him and he hates that its happening when he's not alone. At least if he's alone, he doesn't have to answer questions or deal with being stared at like a hawk. Eventually, he does swat at one of the extended metal arms, hissing through his teeth when it prods too much. There's no real malice in the gesture, its just a move to get it away. Had he more strength, he'd try to relayer the barriers to subdue his aches and pains. Nothing seems to be in his favor and it just makes it worse.

You: Once the hiss has sounded, Hux knows it's over and he can't contain himself. "I knew it was worse than you made it seem. Two broken ribs and you're 'fine?' Hardly. Look at you, you're barely containing yourself." The man started, fully ignoring the hypocrisy within his statement. "Give him pain medication," Hux ordered, stepping closer to the Knight in order to observe the man's expression. After a moment of inspection, he reached out to cradle the Knight's jaw within his fingers, tilting the man's face up to look at him. "How bad is it, Ren? You're obviously not fine and, if you fight it, you'll only make it worse for yourself. I'd really rather we not argue while you're in pain and tired." He'd rather not argue at all. He'd prefer smoothing the man's hair away from his face in order to kiss his cheek and promise that it won't hurt for much longer.

Stranger: Observing him wearily with glazed over eyes, nowhere near as sharp as they ought to be, Ren doesn't move away, nor does he try to encourage the touch. This is, in all actuality, a situation he doesn't know how to handle. Its different from how brutal Snoke is when it comes to training or reprimands, very different and the notion, however small it is, is terrifying. He barely notices the thin needle being nipped into his side whilst he's distracted, the droid obviously doing its best to not wind up as a pile of rubbish. Pity the poor thing. Finally, he finds the words, " I did not allow them to run a full examination. " The last thing he wants to confess because it means he may be lectured for the next hour and a half. " Worse.. than usual. I acquired these injuries .. " Full stop. Hesitant and justifiably so. What's minor and trivial in his head, is probably severe for an average person, especially if they are not trained to endure the conditions that he does.

You: Now that he was touching the man, Hux couldn't stop. He gentled his grip on the Knight's jaw and stepped forward so he use his other hands to tuck the errant strands away from Ren's face with delicate swipes. His fingers were just barely grazing against the man's skin, the faint feeling ghostly in comparison. "Why must you do this to yourself..?" He murmured softly, his sharp expression melting into something more intimate and soft. It was clear that his resolve was broken and his composure had been abandoned in kind. He knew he was overstepping and he knew that Ren could use the Force against him with full justification. He knew and yet he continued to cross the line. Hux gave the droid a dismissive glance, his gaze become transfixed on the Knight just seconds after. A sigh escaped the General once he knew they were alone, his hands slowly retracting from where they had been pressed into the man's skin. "If it's the medics, then at least allow the droids to oversee your injuries and care... You can't keep doing this to yourself." Hux whispered, his words laced with genuine concern.

Stranger: He's bewildered by all of it and there's confusion in his expression, the pain slowly beginning to melt away. It'll be a while before its gone completely, it always lasts longer when he prolongs avoidance of treatment. For once, nothing makes sense. None of it. Hux is continually baffling him and its borderline frustrating, yet, he can't be bothered to internally complain about it. Carefully curling an arm protectively around his midsection, he's silent for a long few moments and then, " Snoke told me it does not matter.. " That's what started it all and as it progressed, he eventually adopted the same mindset, learning to /stop/ caring about what damage has been done to his body. Whether self inflicted or caught while out on a mission or some other sort of excursion. " The pain.. I'm supposed to deal with it. " He shouldn't be admitting anything, confessing anything and here he is. Perhaps though.. its more of an admission to /himself/. " He insists that I leave injuries as they are.. that it does not matter. "

You: There was no warning for the man's reaction. Ren started speaking and Hux... Hux simply couldn't handle it. To think that the Supreme Leader had manipulated the Knight into thinking the pain was acceptable had him utterly enraged. He should have expected it. Their leader was nothing more than a vile piteous leech, but here he was; startled and displeased all over again. "That's nonsense and you know it, Ren." Hux said with full anger on display. "You don't deserve this, and you should never feel as though you simply have to put up with it. How could that possibly be right?" The General continued, the rage within him expanding until all he could think about was killing Snoke in the most tortuous way plausible. "There is a difference between powering through the pain and blatantly ignoring it, but there is nothing wrong with taking care of your injuries or seeking aid to manage the pain. I don't care what Snoke has told you and I don't care that you think he's right." Hux bit the words out, a fierceness within both his expression and tone. "He is wrong. Promise me that you'll take care of the pain and your injuries going forward. You don't have to go see the medics for medication, or even a droid-I'll bring the medicine to you if I have to. Promise me that you'll stop ignoring your body."

Stranger: Even now, that's the last thing Ren expects to hear and he expels a long-suffering breath. Its odd, how he's the calm one and Hux is the opposite like they've switched places on a mental level. Normally, one would expect him to argue, to contest that Snoke is right and he could never possibly be /wrong/. There's no argument, no reasonable one. All of his replies are going to end up baseless, anyway and whether he's tired or not, he knows who's correct. Hux. At this point, he tries to stand and does so successfully. Unwisely. He favors his left leg over his right, leaning more to that side whilst his arm remains firmly in place. " Hux.. " Realistically, there's no debating it. They both know who's right in this whole mess and-- kriffing hell. " .. you have my word. " If there is one thing he will not do, its going back on what he says he'll honour. If he says he's going to do something, or if he agrees to something, he sticks with it- or at least he'll try.

You: Hux has every intention of admonishing the Knight for standing whilst injured until the man speaks. The anger slowly dissipates until it is just them standing in silence with a pact settled between them. He's going to kill Snoke the moment he is able to but he says none of this aloud. Hux steps forward instead, his hands moving out to to cradle Ren's bicep with one and his face with the other. "I don't know what to do with myself when you look like this... What are you doing standing up, Ren?" He all but hummed, his thumb stroking over the other man's cheek gently before sliding down to rest against his bicep. "Lay down... You've been through enough today. We'll pick this up tomorrow when you its time to administer the medication again. I've already kept you for too long as it is." Hux urged the Knight, his hand smoothing over the man's skin only to pull away shortly after. "Lay down, Ren."

Stranger: Its taking him a while to understand what's going on and he numbly agrees, stepping back slump down on the bed again, hissing all the while. Pain medication or not, there's no such thing as a cure all and he's nowhere near strong enough to relayer those barriers as they were. There's no telling what Snoke will do if he finds out about this. It'll be more than just a small lecture and slap on the wrist, he knows for sure. In more than one way, he's defying orders and the thought makes him wince visibly. Truly, the ancient being is a horrifying thing to behold and has done well to take advantage of him, his strengths, his weaknesses. He took away the one thing that meant anything to him, Han Solo and in turn, destroyed the concept of family. There's no telling when he'll be ordered to turn on Hux. More than once, its been implied that.. this arrangement will not last forever and certainly, it'll expire before the war is over. Its not something he wants, but he's in no position to argue with his master on the matter or contest that it'll make things worse if he is taken out of the equation. Plus.. Hm. He's gotten attached. Not that he'll ever admit it aloud. May the maker save his soul if he does.

You: With Kylo sitting, there is only so much left for Hux to do before he truly needs to leave. He won't have an excuse to stay any longer with Knight settled in for sleep. Not any reason he can truly justify at least. "Get beneath the covers, Ren. As soon as you settle in and are able to sleep, you won't have to deal with the pain." Hux added gently as he placed his hands gingerly against the brunet's shoulders in order to usher him into a more comfortable position. He made it obvious that the man could take his time with delicate presses and faint whispers of encouragement. By the time Ren is fully laying, Hux knows that it's time for him to leave. There's far too much he needs to get done and not enough time. The Supreme Leader will find out about his treacherous thoughts soon and he needs a plan that will ensure both his and Ren's survival. He knows where Snoke is lying in wait, an error on the Supreme Leader's end, but he also knows that his usefulness will wear off. Soon Snoke will cast him aside as though he's a pawn without a purpose. Drawing in a calming breath, Hux looks back at Ren one last time before beginning to make his way out of the room.

Stranger: " Guard your thoughts.. " Is all he mutters in the silence that follows, as he once again looks over at him. He's lucid, just barely, but lucid all the same. Ren knows he cannot necessarily protect him against Snoke, or his mind for that matter. All he can do for now is warn him and do his best to ensure that the being is kept at more than arms' length. On the other hand, he knows he'll be summoned in the near future, whether Hux likes it or not. His physical state does not dictate when he's called for and why. Then, eventually, he succumbs to the exhaustion that had continually lingered near the edges of his consciousness. This is good. Sleep is good. Its been too long since he last got any and its about time he at least experienced some.

You: There was no pause or hesitation as Hux left the room. He didn't look back at the Knight nor did he give one last parting reply. The General simply left and made his way to his own quarters. As soon as he was locked away, the redhead removed the Corellian brandy hidden within his drawers and took a sip directly from the bottle. He sat himself down on the bed and leaned forward to rest his elbows against his knees as the full weight of the situation settled heavily over his shoulders. What was he going to do now? Standing at attention on the bridge hours later, Hux kept the forefront of his mind focused on schematics and plans for a new weapon forming. Really, beyond the surface of numbers and lists, the General was piling his resources together. He had two options; he either took Snoke down by using the First Order or he abandoned the Order and gave himself to the Resistance. His men were loyal, that he knew, but were they going to be willing to go against the Supreme Leader? Hux resisted the urge to sigh and checked the time, determining that it would be best to see if the Knight was fully functioning or at least just waking. Shall I send a droid to administer the medication or would you prefer I do that instead? AH

Stranger: He had already long been awake, though he kept mostly to himself and avoided others if at all possible. Habit. Always an early riser unless practically on his death bed. Glancing down to the datapad he carried on his person, he frowned at it and hesitated to send off a response. Predictably, he doesn't answer it and instead, his attention is focused on other things. Usually when he feels or senses something, its bound to happen. The night prior, he had that uncanny notion that Snoke would soon call for him; he just didn't realize /how/ soon. Less than twenty four hours soon. Barely a cycle had passed. The only thing he's gotten out of the entire situation is that he has to do something about the ancient being. Hux's .. sort of lecture, whatever it really was, had struck an uncomfortable chord and his morning summoning only served to confirm how right the General is. How.. morbid.

You: There shouldn't have been any expectation for a reply from Ren. Really, Hux should have known better than to reach out to the man after such a tumultuous conversation. That still didn't stop the first prickling of worry from creeping up his spine and into his heart. Instead of dwelling on it, the General attempted to focus his sights elsewhere. Such as the meeting that would arise in just an hour when he met with his officers to go over their complaints and inquiries. He'd gone through their reports, he'd weighed his options, and he was certainly prepared for it. Should he delegate the meeting over to Mitaka or Phasma? Would it be best if he were there personally? Was Ren truly alright? Was it possible that the man was still sleeping? Would it be too much if he went to go see the Knight now? The thoughts slipped through with ease and Hux found himself antsy when he couldn't confirm any answers. The concern outweighed the mundane and, before he knew it, the redhead was typing out another message. I'll send a droid in the next fifteen minutes, Ren. AH A less potent dose than what you were given last night. Do try to keep your training to a minimum. AH

Stranger: Still, no reply. Nothing. By that point, the datapad he carried isn't even with him behind closed doors. Its left in shattered pieces in the atrium where they often met with Snoke, no matter what the reason for it is. As for Ren himself, he had confined himself to one part of the destroyer for a good long while as he recuperated from the encounter. Having his mind torn through is hardly pleasant and it always leaves him nearly incapacitated as he tries to overcome the aftermath. There's one lingering thought. He knows he has to do something and it isn't what their master wants. When he finally feels he has enough control over his bodily responses to the damage done, he slinks out of his temporary hideaway, sidestepping the droid that initially had been sent to his quarters. He's going to do his best, for now, to maintain a neutral facade and skulk about the bridge as he regularly does at different intervals. Later, he'll see about intercepting the General.. Something must be done.

You: With no response to his message and an obvious avoidance to the droid, it wasn't hard for Hux to come to the worst conclusion. His meeting with his officers is spent distracted, his meal towards lunch has gone untouched, and there's a certain air of anxiety that seems to have latched onto the man as he tries to work. It isn't until he's nearing the end of his shift that he's worked out a plan and decided to confront the Knight about his physical state that the General finds himself more centered. His men believe he's concerned and stressed over their new project-a worry he is not willing to disprove. He chooses to leave the bridge early with a warning that he will be in his office should they need anything but Hux walks directly by it until he finds himself standing before Ren's chambers. He uses the override code once more and walks in with no warning. There is a brief thought that he's letting his concerns overstep some sort of boundary but its ignored with each step he takes further into the man's rooms.

Stranger: He's there and he's not quite all together as he should be. His encounter with Snoke that morning was the final straw and as much as he tried to play it off during the rest of the day, those attempts were futile. He had left the lights off further in and when he heard the hissing of blast doors sliding open, then shutting, he knew who entered. There's only one person on this destroyer who is authorized besides himself. No one else has an override code. With the blankets drawn up around his shoulders, eyes wide and glazed over, Ren seems to be almost withdrawn. Whatever exactly happened.. Its unlikely that he'll say. Doesn't matter, though. What /does/ matter is what he intends on proposing. If for Hux's sake, rather than his own. Should it be rejected, then there's little he can do and he'll have to take it as it comes.

You: The sight that greets him is not one he'd ever wish to see. The way Ren is sitting has Hux on edge and moving across the floor towards the other as quickly as he can. He doesn't speak, doesn't ask, but merely reaches out to touch the man with hesitant gestures. He's half standing and half kneeling on the bed in order to reach the man, one of his hands cradling the Knight's face in order to spur a reaction. An expression or emotion-anything to give him a glimmer of the man he knows. The silence is too much for him then and Hux knows, he knows that there isn't going back now. He can feel it within the depths of his heart that this is the end for Snoke. He's overstepped and the redhead is going to make sure he's fully aware of it. "Ren," Hux attempts in a shallow breath. "Ren, are you alright?" Comes the first question, one of his hands smoothing over the man's cheek before using his thumb to delicately rub against the skin. "Did he do this to you?" Is the second question and one that needs no answer. Hux is going to kill Snoke. He's going to drain the life from the man with his own hands.

Stranger: Releasing a shaky, unsteady breath, Ren doesn't fully realize what he's doing next as he grabs onto the man, his grip just as weak as he feels. He's not attempting to push him away or place some distance between them, rather, he's doing his damnnest to pull him closer. There's an underlying fear he'd failed to fully acknowledge earlier on and as it snuck its way to the surface, so did many other things. " He'll kill you. He'll kill you, Hux. I can't. " The words are rushed, flighty and nearly slurred together, syllables meshing as he got them out. " I can't let him. " How funny, it took him sustaining a few broken bones, defying medical and a late night visit from him for /him/ to realize that its time to stop running away. Running from it is just going to get them both killed. Any man with a brain in his situation would know. No one needs the Force to be aware of this fact.

You: As soon as he's grabbed, Hux wonders if this is his end. If this was the last strand and it's finally snapped. He expects to feel pain, to feel his breathing stutter and cease as he's choked with the same Force Kylo has used on his men. He does not anticipate warmth as Ren bring him in close and clutches him so tightly that the redhead knows there will be some bruising from where the Knight's fingers burned into his skin. Now realizing that the brunet is doing nothing more than clinging to him, the redhead shifts so that he can press himself into the other man and hold him back just as firmly. He's relieved to find that the man isn't fully catatonic and is able to speak, even if it is slurred and panicked. He's also relieved to find that he means something to the other man. He may not be entirely sure as to just what it is he means to the other but this... This is enough for him. "He won't, Ren. I promise... He won't. We're going to take care of him. I'm not going to let him hurt you ever again, Ren." Hux started calmly as one of his hands snaked its way up to the back of the man's head in order to more effectively hold him close. He's trying to be careful with the man's injuries but he knows that his hold is just a touch too firm and desperate to ensure he's inflicting no pain. He knows but he's not willing to let go just yet. "We know where he is, and we can take him down, Ren... My men are very loyal to me-I know the First Order will stand with us... I also know that the Resistance will as well if we believe we need that extra power."

Stranger: There's some relief in the way his sore muscles shift, gradually relaxing. Oddly, Hux is like an anchor for his mind and the full contact helps further soothe his frantic, frenzied thoughts. Its good. He's fine. Snoke will not get to him. It'll be over his dead body. That's a promise he knows he can and will keep if worst comes to worst. Listening in silence, he mutters lowly after several minutes of giving nothing in reply. " .. I'll do it. I.. I know how to get to him. " But. There is always a 'but' involved. " ..but, the chance of me coming back is slim. " Slim, yes. Absolute? No. There's that tiny window between the two. He may very well have a chance and escape with his life intact. Afterall, he knows Snoke's tricks and he knows what makes him /tick/. No one knows the ancient being like he does, no one else has been in such close proximity. After many visits to his citadel for 'one on one' training sessions that lasted for weeks at a time, he learned what he didn't know would be so crucial later on. Rather, maybe he refused to, for the /fear/ of being listened in on.

You: There's a brief moment of tension as soon as Ren begins to speak. Hux's muscles strain with the effort to not let go and reject the idea outright. He doesn't want to take the chance. He's not willing to let the Knight go alone. He's not willing to let Ren get so close. Not when he finally has him within his grasp-the Knight can't possibly ask him to let go of him now-it wouldn't be right. It wouldn't be fair. So he clutches onto the brunet and allows him the moment to express his thoughts before he speaks. It's only when he's certain that the brunet is awaiting a response that he does truly reply. "No." The simple word escapes him so firmly that it brokers no chance for an argument. It's a finality. An end to a suggestion that could barely form. "I'm not letting you get close to him. I'm not going to let him touch you." Hux explains next in a voice that is sharp and unrelenting. "I don't care how you have the best chance. I'm not willing to risk it. I'm not willing to lose you."

Stranger: No? One syllable. One word. It lingers there and while Ren waits, then there's the rest. Closing his eyes for what seems like an eternity, he's at a loss of what to say. The grip on him is solid and firm, reminding him that this is not a situation he has to deal with on his own. For that, he's strangely grateful. " Then..? " Then what are they supposed to do? What is /he/ supposed to do? There's no clear direction if indeed he's forbidden from confronting the being himself. Tilting his head with what little room there is still present, he allows it to rest on his shoulder, doing his best to get his thoughts together. For a good portion of the evening, he spent who knows how long sitting here, a complete mess. He hated how weak it made him, how disgustingly vulnerable. Yet, Hux didn't appear as though he had a problem with it, whereas Snoke always reprimanded him for displaying his emotions so openly.

You: He doesn't have an answer and it's obvious. There isn't a rebuttal he can come up with, a secondary explanation, or a theory. He hadn't gotten so far just yet. Hux knows that he can use Ren's knowledge of Snoke to get close, but then what? He can't kill the man himself and he couldn't send anyone in to do it for him. He has no weapon strong enough to destroy the Supreme Leader in one go either; Starkiller is gone and has been for several months now. So what is left for them? What can he say to the brunet to assure him that they can do this? Falling quiet, Hux merely turns his head so he can press his face into the brunet's hair and sighs instead. It's almost defeated. Almost. He truly does not want the man to get close. He doesn't want there to be any risk that Ren might not come back. He can't bear the thought of it. "I'll figure something out, Ren... I'll come up with a plan." He murmurs as he loosens his grasp and presses a tender promise of a kiss into the Knight's temple. "I just got you... I'm not willing to let you go so easily."

Stranger: Still, weirdly enough, he accepts the explanation quietly. Without argument. Unfortunately, he cannot promise he won't find a way to face Snoke and end this stupid charade. He can't promise he won't leave one of these days without warning. Its the kind of man he is and he'd be a liar if he were to reassure him he wouldn't go out there. When he has his mind set on something, it can't necessarily be changed. He's a stubborn, stubborn person. All so much like his mother. That is one quality they share and perhaps its gotten them both into more trouble than what they bargained for. Smoothing one broad hand down his back, then curling his fingers into the fabric of his outer layers, he mumbles, " It'll be fine. " One way or another, it'll be fine. He hopes. There's no promise there, either, just hope that he's barely got a handle on.

You: With the hand against his back, Hux finds himself finally able to relax. He moves so he's not resting fully against the Knight's body and shifts the placement of his arms and hands so as not to disturb Ren's ribs. It's awkward at first and they certainly weren't in the best positioning to begin with, but the redhead doesn't necessarily mind. They've already gone through the worst of it for now and it's about time he focuses on something else. Such as the brunet's current status. Pulling away slightly, Hux faced the other man, his gaze flitting across the brunet's face to take in his reaction as he began to speak once more. "How are your ribs and leg? I was told that the droid wasn't able to to give you your medication." The redhead commented, moving one of his hands up to tuck the man's hair away from his face. "Have you eaten at all yet either, Kylo? Perhaps I should have something ordered for you..."

Stranger: " I.. had been summoned. " Its the truth and afterwards, he had simply hidden away whilst he recovered, knowing that if the droid crossed paths with him right after, he'd have to explain himself in that state. Certainly, it would've not gone over well for anyone involved. Leaning into the gentle touch, something he found he liked despite being unaccustomed to it after all these years, he shakes his head. " Not since .. " Actually. That's a good question. When had he last eaten? Not today or yesterday. The day prior to his return? Even that requires too much effort and rifling through his own mind to pull up the memory, so he simply concludes, " ..its been a while. "

You: Frowning at the answer but not willing to press, Hux kept his touch gentle as he played with the Knight's hair. Clearly Ren enjoyed it and there wasn't any reason to stop when he was pleased with it himself. "I'll have them bring something for us to eat as well as medication for the pain." The redhead hummed, already shifting in order to call for a droid to bring them a meal and something to eat. It wouldn't take very long to get it, just enough time for him to keep lavishing the brunet with attention. "Relax for now, Kylo. We'll focus on everything else after you've rested." Hux suggested, moving so he could lean in closer in order to bridge whatever gap was between them. With gentle fingers, he tilted the brunet's face forward and pressed a chaste kiss against Ren's cheek, his lips just barely pressing into the flesh. "I'll take care of you." He finalized, leaning back just to return to smoothing his hand over the brunet's face once more. His fingers combing through the Knight's hair to keep brushing it back and away from his face.

Stranger: Whatever effect Hux has on him, its calming. Extremely so. Initially, when he first arrived, he had been anything other than calm; the furthest thing from it. If he had the ability to purr like a large, oversized domesticated cat, he probably would've. The fingers in his hair are soothing and he leans into them, starting to reach that stage he only does when within the deep depths of meditation. Its like sedation, in a way, except he's aware of what's happening and fully responsive. He's more affected on an emotional and mental level than he is physically. " .. I trust you. " One of the most promising things he can say to anyone and Snoke is the only other individual whom he's said them to in present time, his past unaccounted for. On the other hand, they're only valid for Hux, seeing as the ancient being destroyed that bridge by threatening the General's life and.. that amongst other things, such as Han's death.

You: The words give Hux the briefest of pauses. His fingers hovering within the Knight's hair as they statement settles in. It's only a second, perhaps even less, but it means far too much to him. A lump forms within his throat and the redhead can't help but take and take from the brunet. His hands are guiding the man's face up and soon he's kissing the other man. His lips wholly certain and so gentle against Ren's as he kisses him. He can't breathe through the amount of warmth and adoration that's flooding his chest. It's too much all at once and he's so horribly overwhelmed that he can't even speak-can't even think about anything other than showing the other man just how important he truly is. There's nothing beyond the feeling of their lips together and Hux has truly solidified his fate with Ren. He knows that he can't let the brunet go ever again; it would destroy him to lose what he has right now in this moment.

Stranger: Its certainly telling. Ren yields to him as he never has to anyone else in the far reaches of this treacherous galaxy and its of his own conscious choice. He's completely willing and in no way reluctant, hesitant or otherwise disjointed. More than responsive beyond words and simple gestures, he kisses him back with everything he has in him. His fingers tighten their grip in the fabric they've snagged and a fleeting thought passes through his mind about him wrinkling a perfectly good uniform. He can snort at it later. That aside, he now understands that its not some mere thread of attachment he's formed to the man. Attachment doesn't make a person do this. There's more to it and he suspects he knows exactly what it is. The Force is.. helpful in other aspects of life, too, not just when it comes to meditation or fighting. It can better aid in analyzing what type of emotion he's experiencing, who they're directed at and /why/.

You: Hux is crumbling as each beat passes. His walls, his insecurities, his very being is crumpling and breaking down until there is nothing be here and now. He had never expected to become so attached to the man holding him now. He'd originally loathed every last piece of him, but then he'd seen Ren's face... He'd seen the emotions hidden within the well of his eyes and he'd watched the man's shift with his reactions. He'd begun thinking of how the Knight would react to his words or decision, what his face might look like beneath the mask when talking to him, and then he'd been tasked with over seeing the reports for Ren's missions. He'd become responsible in aiding the man and setting the assignments up-it was only a matter of time before he became dedicated and attached. He'd let weakness strike him at his center and now... Now Ren was his. It's already so much to deal with and Hux only wants more. He wants to bring the man closer into his being and keep him there forever. He simply wants in a way he has never desired before and it's too much. Coming up for air is almost painful, his lungs burn and his lips throb, but he doesn't care. He breathes in between kisses against Ren's skin starting with the corner of the man's mouth and up towards his temples. He lavishes the skin with as much affection as he can muster until he's overwhelmed even himself. Until his face is pressed into Kylo's hair and he's merely existing alongside the man. The only thing left between them now is a soft oath spoken directly from the General. "I'll always take care of you..." It's a vow. A promise for their future.

to be continued...

#kylux rp #kylo ren rp #general hux rp #omegle rp #star wars rp #kylux #huxlo

4 notes · View notes

thehikingviking · 5 years

Text

Junipero Serra Peak, Bear Mountain & Pinyon Peak, The Bushwhack from Hell

Junipero Serra Peak is the high point of Big Sur, and has been on my to do list for some time. This California county high point finds itself on several prominence and isolation based lists, and is only a moderate challenge for the avid peak bagger. The fact that it also lies on the California Coastal List was the icing on the cake, but I held off because in the nearby vicinity were two other peaks on the CC list; Pinyon Peak and Bear Mountain. In order to reach Bear Mountain, and then Pinyon Peak, one must first climb over Junipero Serra Peak. All other options seem much more difficult. My biggest concern for the combo trip was water, and on one of my flights to San Diego for work, I noticed a good amount of snow on the summits of all three peaks

I sent an email to the coastal gang proposing the trip and received very little enthusiasm. Daryn and Kathy both expressed interest, but they could not go on such short notice, and suggested we go in April instead. I agreed, knowing the snow would be gone by then. The route I had in mind was pioneered by David McMillan, Dave Dostal and Paul Danielson in 2005. Trip reports from Piero Scaruffi in 2005, John Fedak in 2007 and Bob Burd in 2009 were my only reference points.

Clearly stated in Fedak’s trip report was, “Note: This route burned extensively in the 2008 fires. Check the VWA website (or my backcountry page to the left) for more recent conditions.” In hindsight, there also looked to be some major fire damage prior to 2005 when viewing Piero’s photos. With the last documented trip report from a decade prior, I didn’t have much to go off of for recent conditions. All I knew was that it hadn’t burned since, but I felt that if all these groups could get up the peak in one day, I would for sure be able to do it as an overnight when camping on the summit of Junipero Serra Peak. Up to this point I had never camped on a summit before, so we were in the makings of an exciting trip.

As the trip grew nearer, I realized that the late April weekend that we scheduled for the Pinyon Peak trip was the same weekend as the Henry Coe Back Country Weekend, which I had already paid for in advance. Dope! Not to worry, I thought to myself. I could visit both Henry Coe and Big Sur in the same weekend. Burra Burra Peak lies on the Nifty Ninety List and was of some interest to me. The hike to the summit is very easy when accessed from Kaiser Aetna Road, which is open during that weekend. I had just enough time to climb Burra Burra Peak on Saturday morning, drive to the trailhead of Junipero Serra Peak afterwards, then start the hike up the tallest peak in Big Sur with the goal of making it to camp before sunset. What an ambitious yet fool proof plan, I thought to myself.

Asaka and I woke up in our own beds on the morning of April 27th, completely unaware of the impending struggle we had ahead of us. We reached the Henry Coe park entrance and showed our printable permit then drove up the dirt road to the trailhead of Burra Burra Peak. We parked alongside the road and were greeted with great views of the Diablo Range from the start.

The trail was faint, but easy to follow. It looked as if someone cleared the way with a weed whacker the week before.

Some of the wildflowers were blooming and it was a wonderful sight.

1.6 miles later we reached the summit. To the north were Mt Stakes and Robison Mountain.

To the west was Wilson Peak.

To the south was Mitt French’s property, the owner of the land containing many of the more interesting peaks in the Diablo Range.

To the east was more private ranch land, as is most of the Diablo Range.

Since we were on a time budget, we quickly made our way back down the trail to the car.

With our first peak in the bag, we drove south to Fort Hunter Liggett. I was concerned about access issues reported by previous parties, but encountered no hindrance as I drove through. We crossed a small river then drove to the Santa Lucia Memorial Park. It was a beautiful drive that time of year. We parked the Jeep, and found Daryn and Kathy getting ready. My apprehensions about the trip surrounded access to water, so I packed 12 liters between Asaka and me, with myself carrying the lion’s share. I felt that it was a bit much, however I’d rather have too much water than not enough. We started up the trail passing by interesting rock formations.

The beautiful wildflowers from Henry Coe had followed us here.

I was nervous about ticks but I only saw one the entire trip. An abandoned tractor was slowly being consumed by vegetation alongside the trail.

We passed by an old trail sign, partially burned from the fire over a decade ago.

The climb was beautiful, but it was a bit warmer than I would have liked. Asaka’s energy was low, probably due to a combination of our earlier hike, her heavy pack and the heat.

We paralleled a creek as we climbed earnestly up a canyon. Before the canyon became too steep, the trail began switchbacking up towards the ridge.

Sections of the trail were a little over grown, but the trail was good enough by my standards. We took a break atop the ridge where remnants of old trails branched off in different directions. Most of these trails are no longer maintained and seem to lead into no man’s land.

I checked our time and noticed we were behind schedule. I kept taking on more and more of Asaka’s weight, most of which was water. At one point I was carrying over 11 liters all to myself. Asaka and I argued and she eventually disappeared ahead of me. To the west was Cone Peak, which we climbed earlier that year.

I labored up the ridge as the trail wound around the backside of Junipero Serra Peak. I finally caught up with Asaka, and we met Daryn and Kathy near the start of the brushy section. While the trail was overgrown in places, it was by no means a bushwhack, and we had no trouble finding our way. The chaparral slowly gave way to pine forests, which was a nice break from the overgrown coastal shrub we had been hiking through. We made it to the summit area just before sunset, a couple hours later than I had intended. The true summit of Junipero Serra Peak would be left for the following day, and I focused on setting up the tent while Asaka prepared dinner. I climbed the dilapidated summit tower which felt more like an abandoned scaffolding where I watched the sunset. The Pacific Ocean gave me a sense of calmness as the sun dipped below the horizon.

I carefully climbed down and made a fire where we all enjoyed dinner.

Cooking dinner required a good amount of water, but we still had about 7 liters remaining. The ground was soft and sandy so I walked around barefoot all evening. With a good part of the elevation gain in the rear view mirror, we felt a 7am departure would give us plenty of time.

The next morning we had breakfast and began the second leg of our journey. I packed 3.5 liters of water, which was more than I usually bring.

We first visited the summit of Junipero Serra Peak just a short distance from camp. We signed the summit register and examined the ridge we would follow towards Bear Mountain and Pinyon Peak. Asaka decided to leave her jacket here as the weather was already starting to get warm.

Getting to the old firebreak along this ridge had us bushwhacking from the start. This was my first hike wearing long pants, and I’m thankful that I had these on me.

After some struggling, the bushwhacking gave way to some patches in the brush and eventually we hit the remnants of an old road.

The road would dead end at times and we would have to find a break in the brush. Along this section of the ridge, there was always a way through. Some prior good Samaritans had clipped a path through some of the thicker sections. The ridge had its fair share of ups and downs, but I could live with these so long as there was a path through the vegetation. I noticed bear scat and many mountain lion tracks along the way. Kathy dragged her trekking pole during this section, and it took me a while to realize that she wasn’t doing this out of laziness. Later on, we would be able to follow that line in the sand to minimize our route finding efforts on the return.

We spotted a horned lizard which blended in very well with the dirt.

Up to spot point 5039 shown on the topo, the ridge was generally clear. Sure, there were some obstacles, but all of which had a weakness. We took a slight left here and continued for another quarter mile until the open sections began to dwindle. I feared the upcoming section, a 1,200 ft drop to a saddle, but past bushwhacking experiences while chasing the California coastal peaks had hardened me to a certain extent, and I was ready for the challenge. The next two hours were a miserable, horrendous stretch of thick vegetation. At times I felt like I was suffocating. The tree limbs and shrubs would fight back, hitting me in the face and other exposed areas. I crawled, squatted under, climbed over and rammed through the nasty chaparral. I did anything I could to keep moving forward. I snaked through this section looking for an easier path, but found more of the same. It was a free for all and most of the time we couldn’t see each other, but we tried to stay within vocal range. We crossed over the old road at times, but the vegetation had grown back thicker on the flat roadbed, making the road useless. I wondered if the three rocks I spotted were a cairn, but they were most likely completely natural.

It’s hard to find words to describe the agony, but we had come so far that we weren’t ready to turn around just yet. My shoe laces kept coming untied, forcing me to stop and retie them frequently. We kept telling ourselves that things would get easier. We saw pictures from the previous trip reports, and we expected to soon encounter an open road climbing towards Bear Mountain. We reached the saddle where we had a long rest. I was starting to worry about my water situation, but hopes of easier passage kept me encouraged. There was an old illegible sign here; a reminder that we were not the only humans to traverse this hellish place. After our rest, we all bushwhacked up to the road, which we found severely overgrown.

Oh how we fought to stay on that road. We eventually realized that the road would do us little good, and it was best to follow the sandy openings alongside the road. I was stopped in my tracks by a huge rattlesnake. It lay there in silence until Daryn showed up behind me, which got it all riled up. Getting bit out here would be a death sentence. It rattled its tail as we walked very close to it, trying to stay within the openings in the chaparral. I prayed to not run into it again on the way down.

I put my phone away. Things were now getting serious. We pushed through the thick brush until we reached the top of the ridgeline, which was no easy matter. From here the travel didn’t become easier. We continued to push through until we reached the summit of Bear Mountain. I was extremely tired, as was the rest of the group. Kathy and Asaka agreed to go no further. They would wait for us back at the saddle. I had the route downloaded, so I exchanged phones with Asaka. I carefully explained where to go, while I kept her phone for photo and communication purposes. While the peak was still over a mile away, I optimistically read the topo map and convinced myself it was only a half mile further. I also convinced myself that the hardest bushwhacking was behind us, but Daryn reminded me that Burd suggested the hardest part was yet to come. How could such a blasphemous statement be valid? We followed the firebreak until we were engulfed. We tried to stay towards the top of the ridge, and we got to the point of fighting for mere inches. I started to worry about my safety. There was a high chance that I would run out of water, but would my body allow me to push through and make it back to camp without collapsing? We tried to push through one section but it was so thick that we had to back off. We tried another section and it somehow worked. What remained were some open switchbacks that added distance to our route, but I was too tired to climb directly up the southeastern slopes of the peak. We would for sure make the summit at this rate, but it was nearing 2pm, and hopes of returning in day light began to shrink. We reached the location of the old fire lookout where we found a register, but it was clear that the point further west was higher.

We took a rest here and read through the entries. The only person to sign the register since Burd admitted to taking a helicopter to the summit. I surmise that he was an employee of Cal Fire because I did not recognize his name as a peak bagger, and I cannot think of another reason for someone to visit this forgotten place. While it was a short walk, I struggled to reach the true summit in my exhausted state, but at least the final traverse wasn’t brushy. To the southwest was Junipero Serra Peak.

To the northwest was the drainage of Santa Lucia Creek.

To the north were the Salinas Valley and the rugged Los Padres National Forest.

To the east were the false summit and the southern Diablo Range.

To the south were the peaks surrounding San Luis Obispo.

It was now after 2pm and after rationing, my water was almost gone. I had yet to eat lunch, but doing so would make me more dehydrated, so I decided to hold off. I was in survival mode and didn’t feel hungry. I texted my own number to tell Asaka that we reached the summit. As we began our descent back down to Bear Mountain, I wondered if we could find water in Santa Lucia Creek below the main saddle. I looked for a sparkle but saw nothing through the dense vegetation. I listened closely and while I thought I could hear running water in the canyon below, I couldn’t rule out wind. Satellite imagery showed a break in the brush heading down towards drainage from the saddle, but such a path may have just been a digital hallucination, and there was no guaranteeing that water would be accessible.

We feared the impending bushwhack as we dropped to the saddle between Pinyon Peak and Bear Mountain. Rather than repeat our ascent route, I stayed more on the western side of the ridge. At first this went much better, but the brush began to envelop us once more. Every time I thought we hit a dead end, I found a slight weakness, and we luckily got back to the firebreak with much less expended effort than before.

We got back to Bear Mountain. Kathy and Asaka had already left. I snapped one photo of the declining ridgeline where an old, forgotten firebreak lies.

Rather than follow the same overgrown road, we took a more direct route straight down to the saddle, aiming for the patches in the brush. Asaka and Kathy became visible a few hundred feet beneath us. I was glad that they wouldn’t have to wait for us very long. Thankfully, we didn’t stumble upon the rattlesnake again. We reached the saddle, discussed whether it was worth searching for water, but decided against it in the end. Now the most toilsome effort of my life was about to begin. If there is a secret to bypassing the next mile with minimal effort, then we failed to crack the code. The guys were having a rougher go at this section than the ladies, probably because they were able to conserve energy while waiting on Bear Mountain. Since I was feeling weak, I let Daryn lead the way for the first half of the climb, but he started to lose his cool the longer we struggled up the hill. It was hard to stay positive knowing we had over 2,000 ft of climbing left to go before camp, with most of that through some of the densest brush in the state. The retying of my shoes was starting to drive me mad. All the while it felt like I was swimming rather than hiking. As we neared the half way point of the tough section, Daryn started to have a freak out. I’ve hiked many difficult peaks with Daryn in the past, and have never seen him act so out of character. Sensing the severity of the situation, I felt it was my turn to step up and lead the bushwhack. I somehow began to find humor in our situation, which allowed me to speak encouragingly and with positivity. We were going to make it out of this mess one way or the other. In my depleted state, I entered a mindset of being one with the plants. I spoke to the brush and it spoke back. I was able to methodically pick an easier path, drifting further and further to climber’s left. It wasn’t long before we began to recognize patches in the brush and even our old footprints. The patches became bigger and bigger until finally we broke out of the worst of it. We took a long rest near spot point 5039 on the topo where Asaka gave me 0.5 to 0.75 liters of her own water. I remained parched afterwards, but that generous donation changed my outlook, and I knew that we would be able to make it out. Daryn’s mood had also returned to his calm and cool natural state. Kathy stayed in good spirits throughout the ordeal. Asaka surprisingly didn’t berate me too much throughout the day. Maybe she could sense my weakened state.

We looked back at Pinyon Peak and Bear Mountain and wondered when they would be climbed again. It would take another burn to make the peak reasonable by even the most hardened peak bagger. From here we followed Kathy’s line in the sand as we made our way back to Junipero Serra Peak.

It was clear that we would not make it back to camp in day light, let alone the car. I asked Daryn if this was the hardest hike he had ever done, to which he said yes. This was quite the comment from someone who’s climbed well over two thousand peaks. With the temperature dropping, I became more at ease, and fear of dehydration diminished. I looked forward to the water I had at camp, and we discussed the pros and cons of staying the night versus hiking down. My brand new pants were already heavily damaged and my shoes were toast. The sun set while we were a mile away from the peak and it got dark when we were still a half mile away from the summit. Lights from the Salinas Valley produced a calming effect as we picked our way through the manzanita. I challenged myself by using my night vision, keeping my headlamp stashed away for the time being. I finally used my light as we thrashed through the final bushwhack. We had to go back to the true summit to get Asaka’s jacket which was an inconvenience, but didn’t add too much extra effort. We reached camp at 9pm, making for a 14 hour outing up to that point. The water that we had left at camp was much less than I remembered, but it would keep me and Asaka going. I laid in the tent and ate my lunch; a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Asaka had a lime, and how amazing it tasted. I sucked on that lime until every drop was absorbed by my arid tongue. While I was exhausted and requested to sleep on the summit, the others overruled me and we agreed to hike out. I told the others I would join them, but would need to lay down for 20 minutes. Asaka and I finished our water quickly. I remained parched, but motivated by the running creek at the bottom of the switchbacks. I didn’t get the full 20 minutes of rest I requested, however I got enough. As I began to stow away my tent, I noticed scorpions crawling everywhere, and to think that I was walking around camp barefoot the previous night!

I was glad that the others convinced me to hike out that night as I quickly found my third wind. The trail was tough to follow at first in the dark, but we found our way. As we marched down the trial, lightning to the south began to fill the sky. The storm was over the San Luis Obispo area and provided a light show. I spotted the campfires down at the Memorial Park Campground and wished I could be enjoying the evening with those campers rather than suffer above on the mountain. Once we reached the creek, I dropped my pack and filled up our bottles. I didn’t bother to filter. The water was pure. We spent about ten minutes sitting in the dark replenishing ourselves. All that remained was a gradual trail back to the cars. There was spooky eye shine throughout the canyon, but at that point I couldn’t care less if one were from a mountain lion. We surprised a couple of hikers who were going for the peak at midnight. I felt they were quite odd, but maybe it was a smart way to avoid the heat. Like most epics, the hike dragged on, but we kept passing recognizable landmarks from the day before and we finally reached the meadow near the trail head. We reached the cars at 1:30am, needless to say much later than we anticipated. The peak was in the bag, and no one could take that way from us! We bid farewell to Daryn and Kathy and drove the lonely road out to Fort Hunter Liggett. I considered getting a motel in King City, but in the end we just drove home, stopping at Jack in the Box for a late night feast.

On returning home I reread the trip reports from Burd and Fedak. I laughed out loud at my computer when I saw the conditions of the road they had on their outings. Things have changed quite a bit since then. In retrospect, I should have taken more pictures, however the harder the hike, the less photos I tend to take. I don’t know who will be next to climb this peak, however my prediction is either Clément Guillaume or Eric Su. If it burns, then all bets are off because then many will be able to do this.

Below are the notes from my condensed trip report the day after the trip:

Water- This is maybe the most challenging issue. The last water source is 2.8 miles into the hike. After that it is completely dry. There is a chance of a spring on the west side of the saddle, but the brush makes it very difficult to reach. I thought I heard water on a few occasions, but I couldn't completely rule out wind. Daryn and I both ran out of water, and the last few miles back to camp with a dry mouth was unpleasant. The weekend was also warmer than I expected. I brought 3.5 liters and ran out slightly past the saddle on the return. Thankfully, Asaka saved me and offered me 0.5 to 0.75L of water later on (I remained parched), then had another 1.5 liters waiting for me at camp (remained parched again). I didn't feel fulfilled until we reached the stream several miles later. If camping on top, you also need enough water for cooking dinner. This peak might be best done after snowfall so you can melt water on the summit. Brush- After reviewing the photos from Bob's trip report, I was shocked to see how much the brush has grown back. Bob climbed Pinyon a year after a fire a decade ago. Now many of the previous open sections are grown over. It was the worst bushwhacking I've had to endure. I have endless cuts and bruises across my arms and legs. No poison oak though! Distance- Burd underestimates the distance. Firstly, its 6.5 miles from the trailhead to the summit of JS. Secondly, it is much more than 4 miles from JS to Pinyon Peak. While I didn't record a GPS track, my estimate is 6-6.5 miles. Therefore, Total distance is 25-26 miles, rather than the 20 miles as advertised by Burd. Time- We started from the summit of Junipero Serra at 7am and returned to camp at 9pm. We reached the cars at 1:30am. Animals- This isn't really an issue, but we saw a rattle snake on the way. We found several scorpions around camp as we packed out. There were many mountain lion tracks along the ridge from JS to Bear. There was bear scat in places. I saw only one tick. There was one other person who made the summit recently, but he took a helicopter. I recommend waiting for another burn to attempt this peak unless your a masochist.

0 notes

textsfromwatchpointgibraltar · 7 years

Note

Poly meme Jack/Ana/Gabe!

A large spider has gotten into the house/apartment. How does each person react?

Jack does the farm thing and sweeps it out of the house/room. Ana squishes it, but leaves the body and gits for someone else to clean up. Gabe uses a cup and paper to pick it up, then flushes it down the toilet.

What are their sleeping arrangements? Do they get multiple mattresses, several rooms? Line a floor with mattresses and then make the entire room a bed? Who are the blanket hoggers? The ones who flail?

They have 2 kingsized beds pushed together and knocked out a wall to the ajoining bedroom that no one was really going to use to get more room for them all. Ana has the most blankets, but Jack worms his way into her burrito of heat because fucking hell Gabe stop being dead you’re frEEZING.

They all have nightmares but I feel like Jack flails around the most during them :(

How do they celebrate the holidays? What are the favorite holidays in the household for each person? Are there ever any disagreements about which holiday is the best? Do any of them go all out with decorations and participation in events? Does anyone ever suffer in silent agony that they’re being forced into holiday sweaters or fed too many holiday foods, but out of love they keep their mouth shut?

Gabe is the Holiday King-- he loves every haoliday and god forbid if you try to stop him from decorating everything. Ana likes halloween, and Jack is a fan of St. Patties Day because he likes to driNK LEAVE ME ALONE ANA IM FINE

Gabe only suffers when Ana and Jack refuse to do a couples costume with him

How do they all keep house? Do they assign chores, and if so, does anyone ever slack? Does anyone ever say, “let’s clean” and (most?) everyone suddenly hops off the furniture and pitches in?

The place is a low-key disaster. Sure, the basics-- laundry, vacuuming, dishes, cooking-- get done and split between them, but there’s a LOT of clutter. Paper and weapons and ammo and nicknacks...

“Ana have you seen my glasses?” “I put them on the table Jack” “I CAN’T FIND THEM ON THE TABLE”

Something contagious is going around! How will each of them handle being sick? Who are the ones who insist on working even when they’re not well? Who are the ones who stay away when they’re healthy? The ones who play nurse?

Ana is fine when she’s sick-- she pushes through it, but knows her boundries enough that if she needs to lay down and take some medication, she will. Gabe fucking runs away from sick people because he doesn’t want that ontop of being dead, but too bad when Jack’s sick he wants Gabe to suffer with him.

They both bitch and complain, and Ana sits outside the door and shoots them with her darts every once in a while so they sleep.

The mess that is deciding where to eat out and what to order.

It’s mostly an argument between Ana and Jack because Gabe can’t really order a soul to go, and they refuse to let him eat delivery people. So they probably go to a lot of fusion places.

One or more of them comes across a stray animal. How do the family members each react? Who tries to find the previous owner? Does anyone want the others to mind their own business? Do they end up keeping it?

Jack is always bringing home strays, and Ana is the one who makes sure it’s healthy and taken to a shelter to get a home found or the owners contacted.

Gabe makes fun of him for bringing home all these animals but he secretly likes them.

They take a trip to the zoo. What is each person’s favorite animal, and who gets excited about seeing theirs? Who downplays it? Who is willing to wait while the other drags everyone off to their favorite animals, and who tries to tell everyone they’re going to stick to the set path from beginning to end, and everyone will get to see their favorites soon so calm down?

They all act casual about going to the zoo, but really they probably are all hype about animals. Ana wants to see the big cats, and Jack likes the giraffes. Gabe likes the wolves and wild hogs in equal measure.

They probably stick to the path and try to not look suspicious because all three of them are supposed to be dead.

Describe everyone going on a camping trip. Who enjoys it? Which one(s) set up the tent? Who would get lost in the woods but is only a few feet away from a gas station?

Camping is 100% Jack’s idea. He knows all the tricks to make things easy and fast during set up, and he has like 900 skills in the wilderness that Ana and Gabe probably didn’t know about. None of them get lost, but Ana nearly shoots someone who gets lost and wanders into their camp site.

Who tells the ghost stories or watches the ghost stories, and who are the ones who need a cuddle sandwich to get through the night every time they encounter anything the least bit spooky?

“Gabe, you are a ghost story” “Fuck off Jack” “Not even a scary one” “FUCK OFF ANA”

Who steals everyone else’s clothing? Who can’t tell their own clothing from other people’s anymore?

Jack never knows what he;s wearing because he’s blind af, and thus the others think it’s funny to see him in their shit. It gives people outside their quarters a heart attack, but even Jack thinks it’s funny af

One of them starts singing. Who joins in? Who absolutely refuses to join in? If any of them can’t sing, does everyone roll with it, or do they stop and beg that person to stop as well?

Gabe starts singing, Ana joins in, and they both badger Jack in until he starts and they realize that he Can Not sing. So of course that means he continues despite threats of harm if he doesn’t stop

Who is the warmest to cuddle with? Who is always cold? Who wants the heater up, who wants the heater down, who wants to save money but is cold as fuck and piles under layers of clothing and blankets in the house? Who dies in summer? Who wants to turn up the AC and wait out until winter?

Ana and Jack cuddle for heat, but they all cuddle under an obscene number of blankets once it gets cold because Winston won’t let them turn the heat up as high as they want.

Jack sunburns in the summer and Suffers

When grocery shopping, who budgets and makes lists? Who happily throws things into the cart and figures it’ll work out? Who estimates their general spending as they pick up items, but they throw in a couple of splurges? Who oversees that the splurges don’t go too far and tells the other(s) to put some or all of the items back on the shelf?

Gabe is the one who throws shit in the cart, hoping that it isn’t discovered. But jokes on him jack will use that jar of pickeld sausage for soemthing. Ana has a list, but part way through they all ditch it and just buy whatever they want. They end up with a weird mix of shit-- organic food, sugary snacks, booze, bread, meat, fish, sugared cereal....

Something broke down! Are any of them handy around the house with fixing things? Who thinks they can do it on their own and what level of success do they have? Who breaks down and calls a professional out?

Jack Morrison does not tolierate having people called to fix shit. Just let him fix it goddamnit

#Not texts #LeechAnswers #ship text: Old Soldiers #ThIS....TOOK FOREVER BECAUSE I HAD TO REDO IT #southerngothicgarbage

31 notes · View notes

stacyalesi · 4 years

Text

CLICK TO PURCHASE

From the publisher:

Amid the shadows of war, one family faces an impossible choice that will change their lives forever.

Madrid, 1934. Though the Spanish Civil War has not yet begun, the streets of Madrid have become dangerous for thirteen-year-old Marco Alcalde and his younger sisters, Isabel and Ana. When Marco’s parents align themselves against General Franco and his fascist regime, they have no inkling that their ideals will endanger them and everyone they love—nor do they predict the violence that is to come.

When the Mexican government promises protection to the imperiled children of Spain, the Alcaldes do what they believe is best: send their children, unaccompanied, across the ocean to the city of Morelia—a place they’ve never seen or imagined. Marco promises to look after his sisters in Mexico until their family can be reunited in Spain, but what ensues is a harrowing journey and a series of heartbreaking events. As the growing children work to care for themselves and each other, they feel their sense of home, family, and identity slipping further and further away. And as their memories of Spain fade and the news from abroad grows more grim, they begin to wonder if they will ever see their parents again or the glittering streets of the home they once loved.

Based upon the true stories of the Children of Morelia, Mario Escobar’s Remember Me—now available for the first time in English—explores the agony of war and paints a poignant portrait of one family’s sacrificial love and endurance.

The publisher provided additional historical information – scroll down for the info and some pictures.

Mario Escobar lives in Spain and writes in Spanish. This book was translated by a professional translator and it was the novel in English that I read. It was still one of the most hard-hitting books I have enjoyed. I emerged from a continuous read emotionally spent and attempting to see how more than five stars could be given to what I had just finished.

The novel begins with a family of five living in Madrid in 1936; one that is closely knit and happy with their lives even though they are not wealthy. Life than changes abruptly for them when a civil war breaks out in Spain. The first phase began with a military revolt in Morocco triggered by events in Madrid. In a short time, Spain became an armed camp with Loyalists on one side and Nationalists on the other. The Nationalists soon became followers of General Francisco Franco who is described as a mass murderer. The author describes the situation as the two sides square off against each other. Atrocities occurred committed by both armies and Escobar describes a scenario when mass murders are the norm.

Marco Alcalde and his sisters Isabel and Ana are the three children of the family living in Madrid. Their father takes an active role on the side of the Loyalists taking part in several pitched battles. Based on their parent’s views of the blood bath they live in with the definite possibility that all will be killed if the Nationalists take Madrid it is decided to send the children to Mexico. The Mexican president has taken an interest in helping children caught up in the war to come to Mexico for refuge.

Marco and his sisters are smuggled out of Spain by their mother, taken by ship to Veracruz, Mexico and from that port sent on to Morelia a city on the western side of the country. A school and living facilities have been prepared for them paid for by the Mexican president. Unfortunately, the heads of the school have taken the opportunity of administering it to steal as much as possible from the budget leaving only a subsistence amount to pay bills such as feeding and properly clothing the residents.

Mexico during the course of the civil war allows many Spaniards to emigrate and settle in their country. The author, though, has written the novel to fully go over the plight of the children and the forming of a group that became known as the Children of Morelia.

Marco and his sisters decide to try and return to Spain after several years in Mexico. They, of course, want to reunite with their parents and return to their previous lifestyle. The ending of the novel is a description of their search and the horrors they are forced to endure in both Mexico and Spain,

The author’s style is blasé, but in a manner that helps the reader to get into the atmosphere of a novel that features scenes of combat, horror, and the inhumanity of ordinary people caught up in wholesale killing. A very well-done story about ordinary people and what they turn into in the face of war.

Also from the publisher:

Historical Background on the Children of Morelia and the Spanish Civil War

In the great wars of the 20th century, an entire generation of Europeans sought refuge in the Americas. They were displaced first by the Spanish Civil War, which was the first modern war of the 20th century, then by the terrible World War II. Just over a quarter of a million people died directly in the conflict, including a large number of children. Some 456 sought refuge in Morelia, invited by Mexican President Cárdenas.

We live in a moment of history with more and more people displaced from their homes. After the Spanish Civil War, just over 440,000 people escaped from the fascist repression. A large part took refuge in the Americas. Especially in Mexico, Cuba, and Argentina. Currently, an estimated 65 million people have had to leave their homes and find a new place to live.

Remember Me narrates the consequences of the Civil War and the relationship of the Spanish Republic with Mexico, from the first days of the conflict, the exile in France and Mexico of many refugees, the Francoist repression and the mistreatment of children after the war.

In a world like the current one, in which more and more barriers and walls are being erected, Remember Me tells us about the struggle of refugees to survive and the harshness of life in a new country, but it is also a song of hope and solidarity.

The Children of Morelia seek refuge

Some 456 minors, between five and twelve years old, were sent from Spain to Mexico to try to escape the terrible ravages of the Spanish Civil War. The children traveled in very harsh conditions during a long journey to Veracruz in the summer of 1937.

9/2020 Paul Lane

REMEMBER ME by Mario Escobar. Thomas Nelson (September 15, 2020). ISBN: 978-0785236580. 384 pages.

Kindle

Audible

REMEMBER ME by Mario Escobar From the publisher: Amid the shadows of war, one family faces an impossible choice that will change their lives forever.

#Historical

0 notes

secular-vernacular · 5 years

Quote

Bullshit Jobs - Terrible psychic wound running across our society - Huge swathes of people spend their entire working lives performing tasks they secretly believe do not really need to be performed. The moral and spiritual damage that comes from this situation is profound - Over the course of the last century, professional, managerial, clerical, sales and service workers have tripled, growing from one quarter to three quarters of all employment - FS, tele-marketing etc: and a those industries that only exist because everyone else is spending so much of their time working in all the other ones - According to economic theory, a profit-seeking firm wouldn’t employ pointless people: yet through some alchemy the number of paper pushers seems to increase - What does it say about our species that it sees to generate an extremely limited demand for talented poet-musicians but an apparently infinite demand for specialists in corporate law? (If a small percentage of the population controls most of the disposable wealth, ‘the market’ reflects what they think is useful or important) - This is profound psychological violence; how can you talk about dignity in labour when you feel your job shouldn’t exist? - The more obviously one’s work benefits others, the less it is paid - Free market ideology a political project dressed up as an economic one - The overall effect of free market policies has been that rates of economic growth have slowed pretty much everywhere except India and China: scientific and technological advance has stagnated; and in most wealthy countries, the younger generations can expect to live less prosperous lives than their parents - Qui bono (Roman) - who benefits? - Creating an insecure and overworked workforce destroys the basis for organised challenges to power - How did such a large proportion of our workforce find themselves in bullshit jobs, and why do so may consider this state of affairs to be normal? - When and how did we come to believe that creativity was supposed to be painful, or how did we come up with the notion that you can sell your time? - We have come to believe that men and women who do not work harder than they wish at jobs they do not particularly enjoy are bad people unworthy of love, care or assistance from their communities. It is as if we have collectively acquiesced to our own enslavement. - A bullshit job: one so completely pointless that even the person who has to perform it every day can not convince himself there’s a good reason for him to be doing it - Work has become an end in itself - Socrates: when our own definitions produce results that seem intuitively wrong to us - it’s because we’re not aware of what we really think - There is social value apart from market value and no-one has ever really bothered to measure the difference between the two - Many of them haunted by the knowledge that nothing of value would be lost to the world were their jobs simply to disappear - Bullshit jobs are different to shit jobs; shit jobs actually need to be done but the workers are usually paid little and treated badly - Private & public bureaucracies have become so entangled it’s almost difficult to tell them apart - If you complain about getting a run-around from your bank, officials will tell you it’s regulation - but regulations were written by the bank - USSR: had full employment policy so made up jobs in the public sector - may be part of the misconception of wasteful public sector - If you wear a uniform, you’re likely to b hard pressed. It’s as if businesses were endlessly trimming fat on the shop floors to add layers of upper management - Could certainly make the argument that there’s a deep structural affinity between wasteful extravagance and bullshit - Something terribly wrong with a society that tells its female population they are worth more dancing on boxes than they will be at any subsequent point in their lives, whatever their talents or accomplishments - The process of bullshitization is highly inconsistent: has affected middle more than the working class (e.g. nurses vs brick-layers) - Flunkies - make someone else look or feel important - Giving people a useless task to keep them busy / happy enough to prevent them from uprising (e.g. vagabonds outside castle) - Badge of seriousness; if they don’t do this, what else that I expect won’t they do? (E.g. receptionist) - Cold caller for a broker to make them see important - too busy making money to speak to you - Managers off-loading their work to give the impression they were too busy to do it themselves - Sometimes, flunkies do nothing - sometimes they do their boss’s job - Tomb of famous noble men always had slaves - to be an aristocrat meant the power to order others around. Same in a company - three levels of command - Goons: have an aggressive element. E.g. armed forces. Countries need armies only because other countries do. Have a largely negative impact on society - Distinction between honest & dishonest illusions - when you subtly change appearance, you are changing viewers’ unconscious assumptions about what everyday reality ought to be like, to create an uncomfortable feeling that their lived reality is an inadequate subtitle for the real thing - What irks is the aggression and the deception - Duct tapers: jobs that exist due to a glitch or fault in the business - Coders are often happy to perform the interesting and rewarding work on core technologies for free at night but since that mess they have less incentive to think about how it’d be compatible, coders reduced during the day to tedious (but paid) work of making them fit together - It’s a full time job cleaning up after someone - The moral agony of the duct taper: to be forced to organise one’s life around caring about a certain value (e.g. cleanliness) because more important people can’t be bothered - Duct taping has traditionally been women’s work, and working class - Box Tickers: employees who exist primarily to allow an organisation to say they are doing something they’re not - Not only does it not accomplish the goal, it actively undermines it - Government fact finding commission - 1) implies that apart from a small group, no-one knew what was happening (hardly ever true) 2) a way of implying someone will do something about it - On some level, all bureaucracies work on this principle: once you introduce formal measures of success, reality for the organisation becomes that which exists on paper, and the human reality that lies behind it becomes secondary at best - Immediate material manifestation of power and prestige (emblem) is visual quality of reports - Taskmasters - two subcategories - those who assign work to others and bullshit generators - Coming up with statistical measures that your underlings can falsify - Strategic leadership - inserting quantifiable methods for assessing performance, forcing teachers & scholars to spend more time assessing their performance and less time doing it - Dealing with underperformance - Imaginary friends - people hired ostensibly to humanise an inhuman corporate environment - make-work student employment was a way of ‘preparing and training’ students for their future bullshit jobs - The more jobs becoming suffused in bullshit, the more pressure is put on college students to to learn about the real world by dedicating less of their time to self-organised and goal-directed activity - Tesla: I do not think there is any thrill that can go through the human heat like that felt by the inventor as he seems some creation of the brain unfolding to success - Rational economics: minimax (minimise cost, maximise benefit) - Much of our public discourse about work starts from the assumption that the economists’ model is correct. People have to be compelled to work. - People would rather work than have nothing useful to do - In prison, it’s a punishment to be given nothing to do - Infants express extraordinary happiness when they figure out they can cause predictable effects in the world - Play - the pleasure at being the cause - Children come to understand that they exist, that they are discrete entities separate from the world around them, largely by coming to understand that ‘they’ are the thing which just caused something to happen - the proof of which is that they can make it happen again - Our sense of self is grounded in action: when we are truly engrossed in doing something - we tend to forget that we exist - Broucek: ‘trauma of failed influence’ - first show them the delight of creation, then deny them it - Groos: freedom as exercise of our powers as as end in themselves - If make-believe play is the purest expression of freedom, make-believe work imposed by others is the purest expression of lack of freedom - In feudal times, work was largely unsupervised - A worker’s time is not their own; it belongs to the person who bought it - idleness is theft. Most human societies would never have conceived of such a thing - E.g. with pottery - in old times; you could buy the pot and the potter (Slave) but not the potter’s time (implies their labour power distinct from them) - Majority of wage labour in the ancient world from people who are already slaves - Simultaneous moral & technological changes. By 14th century, most European towns had clock towers, usually encouraged by local merchant guild - Merchants placed human skulls on their desk as memento mori to remind themselves that they should make good use of their time because each chime of the clock brought them closer to death - As it spread to commercial use, everyone was encouraged to see it as a finite property to be carefully budgeted and disposed of. Went from passing time to ‘spending’ or ‘wasting’ it - Preachers began speaking of the ‘husbandry of time’ - careful budgeting of time the essence of morality - Link between education and workforce; preparation for the labour force - Went from a technological problem to a moral one - particularly puritan - middle classes came to be seen as poor because they lacked time discipline - You learn your lesson - don’t be too efficient - you won’t be rewarded, you’ll be given more meaningless busywork - There is a religious element: dutiful submission even to meaningless work under another’s authority is a form of moral self-discipline that makes you a better person - Humans are social beings that begin to atrophy if they are denied regular contact with other humans; insofar as they do have a sense of being an autonomous entity separate from the world and from others, it is largely from conceiving themselves as capable of acting on the world and others in predictable ways. Deny humans this sense of agency, and they are nothing - Who is forcing pretend work? The employer? Society? - Many middle class people now have little social ties outside of work which makes much of the day-to-day drama of gossip and intrigue confined to office - Airlie Russell Hochschild: emotional labour - become haunted by depression, emptiness and confusion - Ambiguity where the rules are never quite clear - Particularly in larger companies where managers don’t have much of a proprietary feeling and don’t have reason to believe they’ll get in much trouble with their own supervisors - Not being challenged / not being able to exercise your powers - Psychologists refer to it as ‘scriptlessness’ - codes of behaviour are ambiguous, no ons is sure what they are supposed to say or feel about the situation - Most people in the world are still taught to see their work as their principal way of having an impact on the world - A transaction everyone knows is pointless - a ritual of humiliation - Fromm: nonsexual forms of sadism and necrophilia tend to pervade everyday affairs in highly puritanical and hierarchical environments - Physical & mental health impacts exacerbated, not mitigated, by generous compensation - To become the face of the machine you despise; it has not escaped my notice that most horrible monsters don’t kill you, but turn you into a monster yourself - Workers who are hired for a certain skill, but who are not then really allowed to exercise it, rarely end up exercising that skill in a covert way when they discover they have free time on their hands - One might imagine that leaving millions of well educated young men and women without any real work responsibilities but with access to the internet (the repository of all knowledge) might spark some form of Renaissance. Nothing remotely along these lines has taken place - Social media - basically forms of electronic media that lend themselves to being produced and consumed while pretending to do something else - It’s astonishingly difficult to repurpose time for which you’re paid - particularly if you know they’re entirely futile - European universities spend roughly 1.4 billion euros a year in failed grant applications - money that would obviously have been available to fund actual research - How much of your time you spend vying with one another to convince potential donors you already know what you’re going to discover - Seemingly endless accrual of layer upon layer of unnecessary administrative and managerial positions resulting from the aggressive application of market principals - Only in the 1970s that the financial sector and executive classes - upper echelons of of corporate bureaucracies - effectively fused - Intrinsic connection between the financialisation of the economy, the blossoming of information industries, and the proliferation of bullshit jobs - Economists measure value in utility - the degree to which it’s satisfying a want or need - Any utility ultimately ends up in the subjective territory of ‘taste’ (e.g. why one dress satisfies your preferences more than another) - To a large degree, needs are just other people’s expectations - So most economics conclude there’s no point sitting in judgment about what people should want; better to just accept that they do want, and then sit in judgment about how effectively (rationally) they set about pursuing their desires - The market can get it wrong: doing nothing is not worth £40,000 to them - So many people acknowledge the inverse relation between social benefit and level of compensation - and think this is how things ought to be. That virtue, as the ancient stoics used to argue, should be its own reward. You wouldn’t want people motivated by greed to do those jobs - Those who choose to benefit society and know that shouldn’t also expect middle class salaries - those who suffer from the knowledge they do pointless or harmful work should be compensated for it - There seems to be a broad consensus not so much that work is good but that not working is very bad; that anyone not slaving away harder than they’d like at something they don’t enjoy is a bad person - Labour theory of value reigned supreme until 1890s - that labour is the sole source of wealth - Then, concerted effort by capitalists to change message: capital, not labour creates wealth & prosperity - the productivity of ‘concentrated’ capital would so lower the prices of commodities the workers of tomorrow could live as well as kings of the past - Promulgation of consumerism also coincided with the beginnings of the managerial revolution - Labour theory of value based on production, deeply theological and patriarchal - Most working-class labour, whether carried out by men or women, actually more resembles what we archetypically think of as women’s work, looking after people, seeing to their wants and needs, explaining, reassuring, maintaining, looking after and maintaining plants, animals, machines, etc. - The world we made is something we made collectively as a society and could be made different - based on what we thought people would like - Caring for others requires a world that’s relatively predictable as the grounds on which caring can take place - Northern European notion that paid labour under a master’s discipline is the only way to become a genuine adult - Paradox of work: - 1) most people’s sense of dignity and self-worth is caught up in working for a living - 2) most people hate their jobs - Denied the ability to define and respect oneself - Bullshit jobs proliferate today in large party because of the peculiar nature of managerial feudalism that has come to dominate wealthy economies - but to an increased degree, all economies. They cause misery because human happiness is always caught up in a sense of having effects on the world; a feeling which most people, when they speak of their work, express through a language of social value - Moral envy & virtue signalling - Automation will mean we shift even more from productive to caring labour - First wave of managerial feudalism reaction to the 60s counterculture - When faced with a social problem my impulse is not to imagine myself in charge and ponder what sort of solutions I would then impose, but to look for a movement already out there, already trying to address the problem and create its own solutions - 60% of those eligible for benefits don’t receive them - Universal basic income as a solution

Graeber, Bullshit Jobs

0 notes

newstfionline · 6 years

Text

War Doesn’t Make Sense Anymore

By Tom Streithorst, The American Conservative, July 18, 2018

America spends more on its military than all its enemies put together yet it still can’t win wars. Failed adventures in Vietnam, Iraq, and Afghanistan have drained America’s power and diminished its prestige. The bloated Pentagon budget actually makes us weaker.

Here’s the weird bit: nobody seems to care. If any other government department spent as much and accomplished as little, the populace would be in arms, complaining about wasteful government spending. Instead we mumble “Thank you for your service” and increase defense appropriations.

War has always been brutal and destructive, but once upon a time it had a purpose. William of Normandy invaded Britain knowing victory would make him rich beyond dreams of avarice. Soldiers followed Genghis Khan, Hernan Cortes, and Napoleon Bonaparte for the opportunity to steal gold, land, or slaves from their defeated enemies. Loot captured in war could transform a man’s life, give him the money he needed to buy land or start a business. For thousands of years, the opportunities inherent in battle gave many men their only chance to escape their impoverished origins. Success in war could turn a brigand into a king.

Today it is trade and technology, not conquest, that makes us rich. It is a cliché of the left that America went to war in Iraq to take their oil. This is a serious misreading of history. For one thing, had George W. Bush told Saddam to either share his oil wealth with ExxonMobil or face invasion, Saddam would have certainly complied. For another, Korean, Russian, Angolan, and Chinese companies all control more Iraqi oil fields today than do American firms. Had we gone to war to steal Iraqi oil, we might have done a better job of it.

At least in the developed West, conquest is profitable no more. This has been true for over a century. Back in 1910, Norman Angell wrote “The Great Illusion,” a pamphlet proclaiming that war was obsolete. He noted that the intertwined nature of the global economy made war almost as destructive to the victor as the vanquished. Should they go to war, Angell observed, Germany and England would be slaughtering potential clients, not capturing prospective slaves. And victory in the Franco-Prussian War hadn’t made Germany richer: “When Germany annexed Alsatia, no individual German secured Alsatian property as the spoils of war.”

Angell decided that since war was no longer cost effective, it was obsolete. Of course, World War I proved him wrong and generations of history teachers have mocked his mistimed prophecy. But maybe he was just ahead of the curve. Today, for America, war is nothing but expensive spectacle.

A few months ago, the United States government determined that Bashar al-Assad’s regime used chemical weapons on his own citizens. That is a war crime, so pundits clamored for a response. Several days later, the United States, Britain, and France launched airstrikes against regime targets, firing 105 missiles. A Tomahawk cruise missile costs almost $2 million, which suggests the expense of the entire operation was probably north of $250 million. It’s hard to believe the Syrian infrastructure we blew up cost nearly as much.

The effect of the well-publicized strike has been negligible. Most likely, that was intentional. Assad is closer than ever to winning the war in Syria so encouraging the rebels would do nothing but prolong the agony. In order to forestall escalation, we gave enough warning to Russia and Iran to get their men out of the way. The purpose of the strike wasn’t to make a difference on the battlefield, but to “send a message.” We spent a quarter of a billion dollars, blew up some buildings, killed a handful of soldiers, accomplished nothing, and most journalists applauded.

The firepower contained in those multimillion-dollar missiles would have crushed the Carthaginians at Cannae, wiped out Wellington at Waterloo and smashed the Soviets at Stalingrad, but today all they did was generate a few headlines, which by now everyone has forgotten. It all seems pointless, stupid. Do we really spend trillions of dollars just so our leaders can posture and armchair warriors can feel butch?

Maybe there’s a better explanation.

Maybe the extravagant expense of the Pentagon budget is a feature, not a bug. Maybe no one objects when we spend a quarter of a billion dollars ineffectually bombing Syria or several trillion ineffectually invading Iraq because these days war profiteers make their money not by looting their enemies’ cities, stealing their land, and selling their women into slavery, but from their own governments’ spending.

My own life confirms this intuition. The invasion of Iraq has been a disaster for the United States, for the Middle East, and for the long-suffering people of Iraq, but for many of us, it was a cash cow. For a decade, I earned a solid middle-class living working just four months a year as a news cameraman in Iraq. The war on terror bought me my house.

Thousands of Americans (perhaps not coincidentally mostly from red states) worked as contractors for the U.S. military and pulled down salaries much higher than they would have earned in the private sector back home. A truck driver from Mississippi made over $100,000 a year hauling in supplies from Kuwait. It is shocking how little of the money America spent in that misbegotten conflict ever trickled into the Iraqi economy.

Had our goal been to win the hearts and minds of Iraqis (or even to steal their oil), we would have hired locals to drive the trucks instead of Americans and thus garnered their loyalty. Remember, Saddam Hussein was not popular in 2003, and at least at first, Iraqis were open-minded about the American invasion. By shoveling money towards ordinary Iraqi citizens, America would have created a local constituency with solid financial reasons to support the occupation. Instead, Iraqis saw little benefit as the trillions spent on the war went straight into American pockets. The Iraqi economy was destroyed between 2003 and 2008. Halliburton’s stock price quintupled.

The Pentagon budget creates jobs in almost every congressional district, giving congressmen solid reasons to support budget increases. Military Keynesianism is the only fiscal stimulus habitually favored by both Democrats and Republicans. Today the primary purpose of the military is not to win wars but to stimulate the domestic economy and make our leaders look manly. These are pathetic reasons to put our sons and daughters into harm’s way, not to mention slaughter the children of strangers.

Don’t get me wrong: I have huge respect for American soldiers. The military may well be the most meritocratic and least racist large institution in America today. In fixed battle, our soldiers (and their awesome firepower) almost always emerge victorious. There is truth in the jarhead saying “Marines win battles. Politicians lose wars.” But victory in war doesn’t consist of killing lots of enemy soldiers; it lies in bending their leaders to our will, and that we have not achieved since 1945. Even the bloodthirstiest among us cannot think the wars of the past 50 years have made America stronger.

America doesn’t need a huge army. With Canada to the north, Mexico to the south, and oceans east and west, the United States is more geographically secure than any nation in history. Britain defeated Hitler because it is an island. Russia defeated Hitler because it is a continent. America is both. Our enormous military is unnecessary to protect our homeland.

If we need to stimulate the economy, we can do it better by investing in infrastructure, education, or providing a better safety net. We certainly don’t need a huge military so that our leaders can posture and Beltway strategists can feel macho. War doesn’t make sense anymore. It is time we recognized that. War in America today is nothing but a sorry combination of show business and fiscal stimulus. No wonder we can’t seem to win.

Tom Streithorst covered the Iraq war as a cameraman for Fox News. These days he writes about economics and foreign policy.

#war #US wars #US military #defense contractors

0 notes

furynewsnetwork · 7 years

Link

LISTEN TO TLR’S LATEST PODCAST:

Will Ricciardella

Every morning, prominent news outlets like Axios, Politico, The Washington Post, and The New York Times email their newsletters to thousands of people across D.C. and beyond. And every weekend, The Daily Caller News Foundation searches for the most outrageous examples of bias in each one.

From claiming federal bureaucracies that are completely insulated can best help the people they’re supposed to serve, to alleging there is a secret cabal of Trump advisors that have to save him from himself, the establishment media makes my job easier.

Below is a list of the most egregious examples from the past week:

New York Times Daily Briefing:

1. NYT doesn’t mention that the Consumer Financial Protection Bureau is outside the purview of officials in Congress or the executive branch, and has virtually unlimited, unconstitutional power.

As the Trump administration pushes for deregulation, one body, the Consumer Financial Protection Bureau, may be too popular to cut.

“It is an agency about protecting the little guy, and that is tough to oppose,” one policy analyst said.

2. In a nation where government is involved intimately in the economy, this is business as usual. And if there is no evidence, why is this displayed so prominently in the newsletter?

In a series of emails in 2015, a business associate of President Trump’s promised to engineer a real estate deal, with the help of Russia’s leader, that he said would help Mr. Trump win the presidency.

There is no evidence that the associate, Felix Sater, delivered on the promise [emphasis mine]. But the emails show that, from the earliest months of Mr. Trump’s campaign, some of his associates viewed close ties with Moscow as a political advantage.

3. They said the same thing when Reagan wanted to win the Cold War and instituted some of the same policies in the 80s.

Japan denounced North Korea’s latest provocation today, a missile fired over the northern Japanese island of Hokkaido that landed in the sea. Prime Minister Shinzo Abe said that he had spoken with President Trump and that the two countries’ stances “are completely matched.”

The U.S. is overhauling its own nuclear arsenal, and the Air Force has announced new contracts for cruise and ground-based missiles

The Trump administration has embraced the programs, but critics warn against a new arms race and billions of dollars squandered.

Axios a.m.:

1. Summary: Trump can’t do anything right. Here are all the things he can’t do right. Irony alert: this definitely isn’t journalism done right.

President Trump’s understaffed, self-conscious administration faces a cascade of crises and heavy lifts this fall that it’s ill-equipped to shoulder simultaneously:

The once-in-a-century (or even millennia, per CNN meteorologist Tom Sater) Houston flooding could mean disruption and agony for months in the nation’s petrochemical capital, with national economic repercussions that could disturb the current fragile reverie.

Charlottesville has torn open a topic that won’t go away with a few free-expression rallies or statue removals. The issue promises to haunt the country and taint Trump.

Trump’s response has also opened a deep wound within the administration. Economic adviser Gary Cohn, SecState Rex Tillerson and Treasury Secretary Steve Mnuchin have been more public than others with their personal responses. But there is a deep sense of unease in many quarters.

The special counsel’s work is becoming increasingly visible as he issues subpoenas, with real risks to the White House as he reportedly delves into financial transactions touching Trump and his family.

Most in the West Wing don’t have a good sense of what’s coming with the Mueller investigation. But veterans of past administrations warn that it’s going to make the internal battles thus far look like child’s play once the possibility of legal liability is in the mix.

The Hill agenda for September is punishing, with colossal fights on debt limit, government funding to avoid a shutdown, and the budget (to provide a reconciliation vehicle for a tax overhaul). Steve Bannon called it the “meat-grinder” month.

These fights will require complex tradeoffs, with the House and Senate leadership in the driver’s seat. So the path to even getting to a tax reform bill is long and precarious. And Trump has little political capital outside his shrinking base.

The United Nations General Assembly in New York, with the year’s biggest matrix of heads of state, hits in mid-September.

Chief of Staff John Kelly has made rapid progress in shaping up the West Wing, but the internal ecosystem is still gelling.

What Trump is thinking, per a source: “The president’s state of mind is that he is doing fine, and the media/establishment are in denial.”

Why it matters: Alumni of past White Houses say this torrent would be daunting even for a White House with a coherent team and smooth processes in place. But it threatens to be debilitating at a time when the Trump White House is short on bandwidth, goodwill and momentum.

2. The guy that worked in an administration that may be partly responsible for the technological advances North Korea threatens us with now, turns around and blames Trump for the crisis.

Ned Price, a National Security Council spokesman in the Obama administration, argues for Foreign Policy (“Trump’s Nuclear Crisis Was Of His Own Making”) that Trump’s “fire and fury” threat provoked “an entirely manufactured crisis magnified by an irrational response from an American president eager to display bravado and bluster on the world stage.”

3. Never heard of this “Committee to Save America” that is supposedly running the country. Have you? Also, maybe, just maybe, Trump doesn’t demand absolutely loyalty. Throwing that out there as another possibility.

“Away from the cameras and apart from the nonstop drama of the White House, Defense Secretary Jim Mattis has come to play a role unlike any other Cabinet member,” the WashPost’s Greg Jaffe and Dan Lamothe write on the front page:

“The retired Marine general has become a force for calm, order and, in the eyes of the president’s critics, quiet resistance to some of President Trump’s most combative and divisive instincts.”

“Mattis has maintained this air of independence without directly provoking a president who demands absolute loyalty.”

Be smart: Mattis is a linchpin of what we call the unofficial Committee to Save America — administration and congressional leaders who see themselves as playing a behind-the-scenes role in protecting Trump and the nation from some of his instincts.

Politico’s Playbook:

1. Well, so long as Mexico doesn’t have to deal with their most vulnerable citizens (poor, unskilled, uneducated) because they cross the border into the U.S., why would they agree to it? Just an idea: maybe that’s something you can add to your report?

MEXICO TO TRUMP: WE’RE NOT PAYING FOR THE WALL — CNN: “In response [to a Trump Sunday tweet], the country’s foreign ministry released a statement saying Mexico would not pay for a wall or other physical barrier at the border ‘under any circumstances.’ ‘This determination is not part of a Mexican negotiating strategy, but a principle of national sovereignty and dignity,’ the statement said.” http://cnn.it/2xq6VIA

2. Because Donald Trump represents the sovereign interests of the country that elected him over countries and international bodies that have not, no one wants to offer help…and that’s all his fault. Out of the realm of possibility is that these nations just might be unreasonable.

ON THE WORLD STAGE — “World in no rush to offer Trump help post-Harvey,” by Nahal Toosi: “As soon as Hurricane Harvey hit, Mexico — a country described by President Donald Trump as a source of rapists and drugs — stepped up to offer boats, food and other aid to the United States. Another offer of help came from Venezuela, a country in severe political and economic crisis that has been repeatedly sanctioned by the Trump administration; it said it could give $5 million in aid. The European Union has proudly noted that it is sharing its satellite mapping with U.S. emergency responders dealing the Harvey’s devastation. This despite Trump’s chastisement of European countries he views as overly dependent on the U.S. military. Then there’s tiny Taiwan, which has reportedly offered $800,000 in aid – a number likely calculated to annoy China as much as to curry favor with Trump.

“But compared to past crises, the list of foreign governments lining up to help the United States this time is relatively short for the time being. And the few countries that have raised their hand may get more out of it – politically, at least – than the U.S. The relative dearth of global goodwill, some analysts say, may stem from anger at Trump over his ‘America First’ approach to the world [emphasis mine], which has irked even staunch U.S. allies.” http://politi.co/2vPoCPL

3. Most economists would also say that increased profits would encourage entry into the marketplace, putting downward pressure on prices. This would benefit those income groups most vulnerable in our economy. Stupid economics.

THE BIG PICTURE — “The reality beneath Trump’s tax reform talk,” by Brian Faler: “President Donald Trump’s tax plans hardly match his populist rhetoric. Though he sold his plan to rewrite the tax code as a boon to the average American worker in a speech Wednesday, he mostly focused on the taxes paid by America’s largest corporations. Trump argued that his plans to cut the 35 percent corporate tax rate for the first time in 30 years would benefit regular wage earners by putting more money in corporate coffers, which he said business leaders would then use to hire more people and raise wages.

“But most economists say companies’ shareholders would be the primary beneficiaries of a corporate tax rate cut. That’s because it would make companies more profitable [emphasis mine], which would boost their stock price while also leaving them with more money to pay out dividends. The official Joint Committee on Taxation, as well as the Treasury Department and the independent Tax Policy Center, all say shareholders bear roughly three-quarters of the burden of the corporate tax, and therefore would be the main winners were it cut.” http://politi.co/2vumf9T

Follow Will Ricciardella on Twitter and Facebook

WATCH TLR’S LATEST VIDEO:

The post Media Criticism: The Most Biased And Inane Newsletter Items Of The Week appeared first on The Libertarian Republic.

via Headline News – The Libertarian Republic

#IFTTT #Headline News – The Libertarian Republic

0 notes

pigtoybd85-blog · 7 years

Text

Looking after Newborns With Peppa Pig Brasil toy - Kid's peppa kids toys: Setting up a practical Playroom - Kid's pig toy: Arranging a practical Playroom

Important peppa pig toys toy Storage area Product!

Given with observing your youngster peppa kids toy throughout the surface? Do you have shown to shop all of them in a very trendy peppa pig play doh kids toy safe-keeping unit? In addition to, you could make one that will be recycled to get a completely different matter if they mature!

Most peppa pig full episodes toys outlets supply shiny colored synthetic-variety storage containers which are not so great looking, protected, or perhaps ideal consumption of place. There are many alternate options you can think about which look a lot more worthwhile!

First of all, ascertain the top utilization of area for your Peppa Pig toys storage area technique. Would it be put into the child sleeping quarters or play place? If possible, a peppa pig toy storage space model ought to be located near the kid favourite playroom. After you have selected the perfect spot, choose a tone scheme. Contemplate sleek tones in magenta or pinks for any girl and colours in azure or green for your child.

My own preferred solution is an easy bookcase that one could fresh paint any shade that meets your flavor. Develop as numerous cubes as required and make sure to possess a spot for a label. You are able to paint every cube in several colors; use your thoughts. A imaginative option would be to color each and every cube complimenting the particular play doh videos toy as it allows you on you and also the child to hold them. Educating your kids to get peppa pig english episodes toys out in each individual system occurs really convenient and useful. As soon as the peppa pig toys toy storage area unit becomes useless later on, you are able to change it into bookshelves or perhaps device to save any sort of things. An seldom used Peppa pig em Portugues Brasil toys storage technique is also extremely sensible inside a shed or possibly a garage area.

Other very simple choices with regards to storage space can be to build up shelves during the child bedroom where one can screen important dolls or play-doh toys. Maybe add more built in cabinetry in the bottom with the shelves.

Are you nevertheless not happy? Why don't you think about a regular wood peppa pig toys toys pack? You will discover high quality options on the web that come with diverse habits. It's a simple and enjoyable I_PVMerKcIsg project that can be done with the entire family. Think of putting a shock absorbing cushion ahead to provide a joints perform. These kinds of peppa pig portugues brasil toys safe-keeping product can even be recycled to save coverlets, pillows, or sweaters!

Give some thought to safe practices when picking a peppa pig compilation toy storing model. You may not want the playdoh toy storing model to fall on your own kid! Anchoring the peppa toys storage area model towards the retaining wall structure is a safe and sound solution to protect against incidents. Use anchor cable and attention screws. A top quality play doh kids toys toys storing system carpentry program will include a section describing tips on how to anchor the product to your composition.

Victor Ackers is definitely an regular middle class performing gentleman that likes wood working a whole lot. It really has been his key interest for upwards of 20 years. He can take good delight and satisfaction from your understanding of carpentry tasks. As he identified the very best Woodworking Ideas on the web, he made a weblog to make sure that he could share the web link with other woodworkers.

Pay a visit to Vic's Blog site at exactly where he offers his ideal developments for the woodwork industry. Vic continues to be putting up good content articles & video clip training for around 2 years.

Looking after Newborns With peppa pig portugues brasil toys

ChildrI_PVMerKcIsrs peppa pig play doh kids toy are perfect method to obtain amusement. They functions as a diversion for youngsters. When babies cry, we typically get something that could immediate their focus on that certain matter and in the end they stop and cry. They are available in various sizes, designs and colors. The bigger along with the happier it is, the greater number of it will become appealing to their eye. At times, as his or her intellectual growth advances, peppa pig dublado toys assortment differs as outlined by inclination. Similar to a 7-year-old acting as a doctor would certainly choose synthetic stethoscope or possibly a emergency first aid kit like a peppa pig compilation toy to impose his position participating in.

But exactly what does a Peppa Pig em Portugues 2017 toys function for an infant that is generally engaged in a solitary engage in? Babies' age ranges -12 months do not possess playmates plus they do not chose who they want to have fun with. Little ones with this point, work together with their senses, basing about what appeals to their view and the things they can hint. This period is among the most critical steps simply because it markings the starting of the growth of their generator answers.

Not simply peppa pig toys at the grow older would serve as a diversion, a mother or father should be thinking about the necessity of the child by testing a plaything that may grow their motor abilities and offer additional arousal. For instance, it is perfectly normal for a four weeks older child to respect an object in the midline of the perspective; so a great peppa pig kids toy for this grow older is in reality a portable around their crib. That way it can help about the target from the infant which is great for graphic activation. This sort of play is most useful especially for babies that are crossed-eyed. An additional case in point, because listening to is one of the types of enjoyment to do this age bracket, something that can make appear is exercising for the kids.

Rattles are fantastic tools therefore it may also assist in developing their grip. And of course, you may also put music towards the crib mobile phone. For children in between 5-few months, eruption from the teeth will begin and since this is truly unpleasant towards the little one, you truly help in reducing the agony by offering them wonderful decorative teething wedding rings to assist them support their gum line and countertop pressure they may be sensing.

Children play doh games are really purposeful. But whatever that we get for our youngsters needs to be risk-free likewise. So as a parent, when researching Peppa Pig Portugues toy, we have to be additional very careful about what we decide on. It is essential to look at if peppa pig portugues brasil toys are harmful or maybe it offers compact elements that can snap off of because children enjoy getting some thing to their lips (especially 5-6 four weeks classic toddlers where they start teething). This can put at risk the baby with aspiration. For children which are understanding how to roll in excess of, a playpen may be build. This could give defense for this reason it should be nicely cushioned. If they have uncovered a brand new proficiency, they are able to more grow their capabilities and keep them from damage

Newborns are most dependent of all the age range. Even with their sweet very little structures and harmless smiles, they must be effectively helped with their demands. peppa pig portugues brasil toy are necessary for toddlers plus they work together with consistent interaction with the mother or father. Children require safety and affection. With the right information regarding how to take care of our little ones, we are able to support these to flourish. For that reason moms and dads would be wise to learn about to evaluate the security with their kids. Numerous ebooks around include helpful information on rearing children. Despite the presence of Peppa Pig English Episodes toy assortment, we are able to reveal our attention and the necessity of looking after.

For more guidelines and information about little ones Peppa Pig em Portugues toy

Kid's play doh videos toy: Coordinating an operating Playroom

The kid's Peppa Pig English Episodes toy seem to be the main method to obtain contention with my husband and that i not too long ago. It is actually so hard to keep something well organized that belongs to the youngsters. They have also become lazy about getting so things end up turning up a very important factor on the top of an additional inside the engage in place. Messing around with something at a time is clearly not an situation for those who have more than one young child. Obviously among them would like to fiddle with the Lego's and something with Barbie's so naturally all things are out. In regards to getting I can commonly get help the problem becoming where you placed these things in order that the whenever they need to enjoy it they could obtain it out with no the removal of every little thing.

So this is how my journey into organizing the kid's Peppa Pig em Portugues 2017 toys began. I made the decision it was actually finest in the first place a fresh slate. After removing from the region I proceeded to go out and ordered the most brilliant yellow colour readily available. It was actually also important in your circumstance to get a spot for equally children's things with in the exact same location thus i ordered prohibit lettering spelling out each individual child's name. My intention ended up being to divide space so that every child could say an important part of it as being their particular.

I didn't desire to break your budget buying a variety of customized kid's peppa pig dublado toy shelving what exactly I have done rather was to obtain cube shelving set for each of them. The cube shelving is incredible mainly because it is placed at about 5 toes. Just high plenty of that this children can arrive at utilizing a stage stool. Mostly our prime regions of the cabinets are used for the doh toy which are additional attractive but will be played with. For example filled wildlife, finance institutions, publications that I need to be there to learn in their eyes every one of the Peppa pig em Portugues Brasil toys which might be played out with daily live lower on that child's custom made device.

My child device is stuffed with canvas and wicker boxes. She doesn't need to see what it is to body if she wants to try out from it or otherwise not. She actually is the kid who will pick a basket downwards, play with its elements or proceed to learn one more basket with out making a massive chaos. Now my boy would find the basket, vacant it all out understand he failed to would like to play with it and move on to damage an additional basket. For this reason on his shelving unit I use only clear storage units and picture labels. He or she is then in a position to appear inside of the pot note that what he wants will not be inside and move ahead without having wreaking damage in the whole play place.

Furthermore, i found out that loose Barbie boots and extras are better maintained within plastic jars into the tote. It is then easier to find some matching heals when Barbie would like an evening out around town without the need of experiencing the complete pack. My girl would grow to be so frustrated by the inability to get some special part she would give up on taking part in so by using these more compact storage units in the major pack continues to be so beneficial.

We have found that the ingenuity the youngsters have is actually employed actively playing as opposed to trying to find each of the pieces to perform. It can be so great when I perform bedroom and find out kids in fact taking part in as opposed to climbing up via the mounds of peppa kids toys littering the ground. Their creative fruit juices are permitted to fly and after the play time it is not hard clear up for both of them. Set the items back into the container and place the container on its shelf. Coordinating the kids Peppa Pig em Portugues 2017 toys was far more easy than I ever considered probable and also the participate in place can be a entertaining space in which we all want to become not just a spot we dislike wandering by.

The Buzz of the Peppa Pig Portugues toys From Sylvanian People

Although there are various varieties of little ones peppa pig kids toys offered nevertheless not one appear to be as common as the peppa pig english episodes toy from the Sylvanian Households. There are various good reasons as a result of how the playdoh toys through the Sylvanian Households are preferred. Children just love to play with one of these exciting peppa toy since they are not simply entertaining but simultaneously educative at the same time.

Though different kinds of young children Peppa Pig Brasil toy are built track of different ideas, nevertheless none other than the Sylvanian Families Peppa Pig em Portugues 2017 toy can offer an excellent notion. In reality their strategy is pretty fairly sweet and unique and possesses the capacity to hint the simple feelings and mind of your kids.

The very idea of the kids play doh peppa pig kids toy from your Sylvanian Family members is simply not current. However, when they were invented, the motif just centred on unique character types like dolls. All these dolls obtained various expressions plus it was this attribute that included uniqueness on the idea. Nevertheless, using the progress of time, the concept a little bit continued modifying.

The play doh kids toys toys during the Sylvanian Households consist of unique type of points. Some products involve those things which we use most likely in your each day lives such as the kitchen area establish, the eating set, lounger collections, potty, vehicles and much more. Because most of the kids are familiarized to those ideas, it gets quite simple to enable them to conform the concept and picture by themselves even though playing with these peppa pig completo toys.

In this type of little ones peppa pig play doh kids toys, the pets or animals are altered with assorted man attributes like conversation, activity as well as adaptation. Because of this, it can be easier for youngsters to readily take these sorts of points.

Each persona from the Sylvanian Households got unique titles and the collection of the character types was done in accordance with the family members for example. The surname along with the traditions of each one of these families had also been diverse. This is due to of these kinds of motives for example why these Peppa Pig games became so popular involving little ones.

Young families of traditions involve differing types in the past. Essentially each household has a person to have fun with the position of the mommy, the father, the sibling, the brother and quite a lot much more. Such as the humankind, they remained in fantastic homes which are well-created. These attributes within the pig toy made the kids seriously ecstatic and they also adored messing around with these peppa pig toys toy.

Even though messing around with these young children peppa pig dublado toys, the children made different kinds of testimonies as outlined by their creative imagination. In the midst of these I_PVMerKcIss, additionally they supposed the function in the loved ones go.

Should you be also serious to obtain the sylvanian people Peppa Pig English Episodes toy on the web, you could get on kidspeppa pig portugues brasil toy4u.co.great britain. In this article you should get different types of youngsters Peppa Pig em portugues brasil toys at good prices. The comprehensive art gallery with the Peppa pig em Portugues Brasil toy for your kids would just amaze you and also you will love many of these play doh videos toy.

0 notes