#questions queries quandaries
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Venus what if the emulsion was split on purpose. There is no way that a restaurant of that quality would have a split emulsion, especially under Julian's watch. So what if the staff did it on purpose to see if Lillian would comment on it. Venus I'm going insane
I mean I don’t know shit about emulsions, so maybe it’s the sort of thing that can just happen on occasion?
I assumed it was an example of how complete perfection is impossible for humans to achieve, so her fixating on the one flaw in an otherwise exquisitely perfect meal was a particularly fucking bitch move. like if evidence of humanity is not something you can forgive, evidence that this meal was made by a person and not a machine, then you’re fundamentally missing the ability to appreciate art, since art can only come from a human soul. the relentless expectation of perfection without forgiveness for the humanity of the creator (and honestly! seeing humanity as something that requires forgiveness!) is a pressure cooker that WILL drive an artist well and truly insane.
pretty sure that attitude of hers is why she wrote such career-ending reviews of other (probably otherwise quite good) restaurants.
#but i would also not be surprised if it WAS done on purpose specifically to provoke her#the menu#posting so other people can chime in!#questions queries quandaries#lucacangettathisass
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The Angel's Spellbinding Charm | Shigiraki Tomura
You could have never fathomed the idea of willingly embracing the role of a villain. It seemed like an improbable path, one that diverged dramatically from your understanding of self. Yet, here you are, situated within the murky ambiance of a bar teeming with notorious malefactors.
Surrounded by the notorious, you detect no tremor of fear within yourself. A peculiar calmness settles as you lock gazes with their leader, now known as Tenkos. The essence of the boy you once knew has vanished, replaced by seething pools of hatred within his crimson gaze. His eyes, once brimming with affection, are now smoldering with animosity.
As you grapple with this disorienting reality, a burning query arises within you: how did you descend into this situation, where his dominance over you is imminent? This perplexing quandary haunts your thoughts, especially as he relentlessly exerts himself upon you with fervor.
It becomes increasingly apparent that there is an enigmatic quality about you, almost an ethereal essence. The radiant wigs adorning your head emanate a profound luminescence—a stark contrast to the gloom of the establishment you currently inhabit. There exists a stark incongruity as you surrender to his advances, conceding to the desires of this embodiment of malevolence that he embodies.
"Why so silent, dove," he grunts before relinquishing his grasp as his member tightens within your depths. Your wings twitch involuntarily, yet you remain eerily quiet, absorbing the swirling waves of pleasure coursing through your being like a sinuous serpent. He withdraws, and as his manhood releases its essence, it spills forth, coating the inner walls of your sanctum with its distinct essence.
"You professed your adoration for me to all," he smirks sadistically, "and now you're mute. Why withhold your screams of ecstasy?"
Your lips part slightly, unveiling eyes akin to pools of molten gold. With delicate grace, your slender fingers reach out to caress his countenance. His movements cease momentarily as his manhood stirs once more, responding to the tender contact that had been denied to him for so long.
"I do love you, Tenko," you murmur softly, the words carrying a weighty sincerity. "But for an angel like myself, it is customary to remain silent as I am consumed by this overwhelming ecstasy. You must comprehend, I am not of human origin," you explain gently, your touch tracing the contours of his face with a reverence that transcends mere physicality.
"I can't recall any memories of us from childhood," he questions, his tone riddled with confusion as he finally withdraws his member.
He shifts his weight, collapsing at your side, ensuring to avoid any inadvertent harm to your delicate wings as they instinctively retract, concealing your naked form. Your body emanates a celestial glow, akin to that of angels, as he claims you as his own in that very moment.
"Humans are renowned for their fleeting and faulty memories," you remark impassively. "It doesn't perturb me that you've forgotten the pact we forged years back. When your newfound powers were unleashed and you unwittingly ended your parents' lives, I extended my sanctuary to you. And now, here you stand, elevated to the helm of Japan's most notorious villainous organization. However, I do not commit acts of violence for your sake," you declare as you rise, muscles tensing, wings unfurling to cast a radiant golden glow across the dingy confines of the bar.
"Your master offers me no promises; I am solely here for you," you declare with steely resolve.
Tomura allows his hand to curve over the warmth and softness of your exposed backside as you begin to ascend. Despite the circumstances, he acknowledges his stroke of luck in this moment. However, deep down, he comprehends that this enchanting allure he's ensnared by is simply the captivating charm of an angel—a spellbinding ensnarement that now has him wholly entranced.
In his fleeting reverie, he entertains the notion, if only for a second, that you are the sole individual he's ever laid claim to intimately, and that the bond between you is just as profound in return.
"Will I have the pleasure of your company tonight?" he queries, his voice husky with desire. "Or will you bestow your affections upon another member of my league? What of Dabi? He's rather… captivating, wouldn't you agree?" he muses, his fingers twitching with suppressed anger at the thought of his rival attempting to claim you from him, the leader. With a derisive snort, he dismisses the notion, confident that Shigaraki would swiftly put the insolent upstart in his place.
"Now, Tomura, I do not harbor affections for a mere firebrand. My heart belongs to you and you alone," you proclaim with a chuckle, a playful glint in your eyes. You turn to reveal the full splendor of your form—your breasts, the curves of your hips, and the evidence of your shared intimacy glistening between your thighs. "You, and only you, have the power to tarnish the innocence of an angel."
And that is all he needs to hear.
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How to Accurately Calculate Your Company’s AI ROI: Unveiling the Genuine Impact
Despite the prevalent chatter about the productivity gains associated with AI, few have ventured into quantifying them. True business productivity hinges on employees — those who dedicate hours daily to information search, plan refinement, and document editing.
AI, when seamlessly integrated into our work processes, has the potential to liberate us from mundane tasks, thus saving valuable time that can be redirected towards more critical and rewarding endeavors.
This assertion finds validation in market data. We conducted a survey encompassing hundreds of Notion AI customers, including users of Q&A, the new information retrieval tool by Notion AI. The findings were resolute — 74% reported increased productivity owing to AI, with an average weekly time-saving of 69 minutes on information search, affording them more time for essential tasks and fostering a sense of enhanced knowledge and awareness.
Can these benefits be quantified monetarily? Absolutely. Here’s a guide on how you can gauge the probable ROI of AI investment within your own organization.
The Predicament of Information Management
We find ourselves inundated with more information than ever before.
On average, small companies employ 69 apps to manage their operations, a figure that can soar beyond 200 for larger enterprises. Employees spend approximately 3 hours per day scouring for essential information, often fruitlessly, during critical junctures.
The conundrum of app overload coupled with numerous critical moments — each project spawning countless meetings and subsequently, copious notes, action items, and updates — culminates in a data deluge that becomes arduous to navigate when most needed. The repercussions of this information management quandary are palpable yet distressing — a third of workers confess to feeling burnt out due to information inaccessibility, while knowledge workers assert spending 58% of their day on “work about work.”
So, how do we optimize work efficiency?
AI: The Information Retrieval Panacea
When faced with a work-related query, how do you seek resolution?
You could embark on a quest for the information yourself, a process consuming several minutes. Alternatively, you might seek assistance from a colleague, necessitating time for explanation and response. The ensuing exchange might span several minutes or, worse still, hours if met with silence.
With AI, however, you can pose your question and obtain an immediate response. Notion users leveraging Q&A pose an average of 2.7 questions per day, with the majority reporting time savings of at least 5 minutes per query. At an organizational level, these efficiencies compound:
Osaka Gas, boasting ~3,000 employees, projects a 35% reduction in information search time.
Remote.com, with ~1,400 employees, saves an estimated 10 minutes per search, executing 300 Q&A queries daily.
Furthermore, AI streamlines tedious tasks such as meeting note summarization, outline and draft generation, and database updates. Utilizing survey data, we can extrapolate weekly time savings for a 100-person company leveraging Notion AI:
Your specific time savings may vary contingent upon usage and employee adoption rate.
While AI might exacerbate tool proliferation within companies burdened by disparate apps, Notion AI seamlessly integrates into existing workflows. Tasking ChatGPT with summarizing meeting notes on Google Docs entails a laborious 5-step process. In contrast, Notion AI condenses this task into a single step.
When employees engage with AI within a familiar tool, work becomes more efficient and enjoyable, potentially yielding a bolstered bottom line.
Estimating Your Notion AI ROI
The hours salvaged translate into tangible monetary gains on a per-employee basis. Though the ultimate aim is to enhance revenue per employee, we’ve collaborated directly with customers to elucidate how time savings equate to ROI. Below is the formula devised collaboratively, enabling you to estimate ROI from adopting Notion AI:
First, estimate daily time savings across the company by utilizing Q&A:
2.7 Q&A queries per day × # of employees using Q&A × .08 hours saved per query = x hours saved per workday
Next, calculate the annual value of these time savings:
hours saved per workday × average hourly wage × 249 workdays per year = $y cost savings per year
For instance:
Assuming 100 Notion employees earning an average of $50/hour, with an estimated 33% adoption rate for Q&A:
Your annual time saved = 2.7 queries/day × 100 employees × .0833 hours saved/query × 249 workdays × 33% adoption rate = 1,848 hours
The annual value of these time savings = 1,848 hours saved × $50/hour = $92,400
It’s remarkable how Notion AI, merely a year old, has already begun realizing such impactful outcomes. There’s ample room for further growth and learning. We trust these insights will aid you in embracing the future of work as an AI-empowered entity. Explore more and calculate your AI ROI here
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Amethyst - Chapter Twenty-one
In response to my question, Clyde's head immediately snapped away from me. I could tell he was attempting to hide his face, however, I could also tell he was wincing. He then proceeded to clear his throat. "I-it's a very long and complicated story... hence why we've never actually told anyone before."
I nodded in understanding, feeling guilty for re-opening an evidently painful wound. "I'm sorry, Clyde. I didn't mean to-,"
"No." He cut me off, and turned back to me. "It's been two whole years. The nation deserves the truth. We can't keep burying this away. The reason why Flossi isn't the Champion anymore isn't because she was defeated. She still remains undefeated to this very day. We concluded that following Kossi's death, it was no longer safe for the region to let her continue in a position of authority." His voice was shaky, and I could tell he felt extremely guilty about the whole situation. I was about to speak up, to assure him that there was no pressure in telling me the truth, however, before I did, he spoke once again.
"I know it seems cruel to strip a grieving widow of her entire livelihood, and a lot of people have criticised the Elite Four for kicking her when she was at her lowest... but... it was for her own good. It wasn't an easy decision to make. But we had to choose between her title as Champion and the safety of the whole region."
There was a pause as I began to digest all of this information. "Why was she unsafe?" I queried.
"After Kossi died, she went completely... off the rails. She wasn't Flossi anymore. She was never the same. Part of the reason she was so adored everywhere was because of her kindness and purity. But when Kossi died, it's like a switch flicked in her brain. She became so angry and bitter, and consumed by a desire to enact revenge for Kossi's death."
"Revenge on who?" I questioned.
Clyde closed his eyes momentarily, inhaling deeply, before continuing. "On us, the Elite Four. She got it into her head that we were responsible for her husband's death. And I can promise you, Y/N, I swear on all my fairies, and on Arceus himself, that we had nothing to do with it."
"So... why would Flossi accuse you guys if there's no proof?"
"Because there seems to be no other explanation. He just... dropped dead in the middle of a Pokemon battle at the age of 25."
"A Pokemon battle?!" I gasped. "With who?!"
Clyde shrugged. "Whoever it was, has never came forward. They fled the scene straight away. And so, with a grieving heart, and nobody to be held accountable, Flossi blamed us."
"That's absolutely awful..." I sighed, not knowing what else to say, despite there being millions of questions floating through my mind.
"You're a strong talent though, Y/N. You've got all the gym badges to prove it." He continued. "If you are able to defeat the Elite Four, you could potentially be the region's new Champion. There's just one problem."
"The crowns," I nodded my head, already knowing the quandary that we were in. "Flossi has both her own crown, and Kossi's too, correct?"
"Correct." Clyde nodded. "And she hasn't been seen in Taldourse since the day we took her title away. She took the crowns with her, and even if she were hypothetically still around, I doubt there's any way she'd give them up willingly. It is, after all, the only thing she has left to remember Kossi by."
"Can't you guys make new crowns?"
"Well... it's complicated. See, the gemstones that were used in the manufacture of those crowns came from a mine in Galar, back when Rose was the Chairman. But he turned corrupt and tried to destroy his own region using energy, so now that place is in complete disarray."
"Oh...." was all I could manage, returning my eyes to the gravelly ground.
"Anyway, enough about that. Tell me about this friend of yours."
"Danny's always been a very dominant, forward person." I began to explain. "He's always been one step ahead of me. He still calls me a Slowpoke even though I've beat him in every Pokemon battle we've had. But lately, he's been off. He doesn't want to take part in Buzz's Team Moon mission. He thinks it's a waste of time and he's only focused on the gym challenge."
"Sounds like he's pretty insecure about his abilities as a trainer." Clyde observed. "Sometimes, people will be really loud and pushy on the surface to hide the fact they're really vulnerable on the inside. I got that impression from your other friend Lisa. Danny sounds like the type to resist change. It's highly possible that he doesn't like the fact you're getting recognised for your Pokemon talent more than him."
"That's definitely plausible, but what can I do about it?"
"I say you should go and find him. Tell him that it's possible for two people to be Champion. Tell him how much his friendship means to you." Clyde suggested.
Just as I was about to stand up from my seat, I felt my Rotom phone vibrating. I pulled it out to see Jordan's name at the top of the number. "Hey bro! Wassup?" I greeted him.
"Hey Y/N! Robin told me about how you absolutely destroyed her earlier! Congratulations!" He responded.
"Oh haha, I wouldn't say that, she really put up one hell of a fight. I'm just in the Pollux food court hanging out with the one and only Fairy Master himself!" Clyde grinned and raised his hands in pride at this.
"Oh wow that's awesome! Hey Clyde! How's it going?" Jordan called down the phone.
"All good here, my friend!" Clyde responded.
"Hey, do you guys mind heading down to the community centre? There's some stuff my dad wants to go over with you about the Team Moon operation."
****
"Lisa! There you are!" I exclaimed as my eyes fell on the purple-haired girl who was waiting in the lobby area of the community centre. Her usually shadowy eyes actually lit up upon seeing me, and she proceeded to run over and tackle me into a hug.
"Y/N! I missed you!" She said, although her voice was muffled in my jacket. "How have you been?"
"Up and down, I suppose."
"Congratulations on your Gym badges! I always knew you could do it," she smiled. "But why do I get the sense you're not truly happy?"
"I had a fallout with Danny..." I began, however, our conversation was cut short by the opening of a door. It was Buzz.
"You can come in now. The meeting is just beginning."
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Protection in the Electronic Age: Probing Strong in to Complex Vulnerabilities
In the fast-paced world of engineering, professionals constantly end up experiencing complicated challenges that demand a strong comprehension of their specialized expertise. Whilst the landscape evolves, so also does the need for individuals to grapple with complicated issues, making the capability to question and solution skilled complex questions an important skill. This information goes in to the significance of skilled technical issues, offering ideas to the forms of problems faced by experts across numerous domains and giving strategies to navigate and over come them.
The Significance of Professional Specialized Questions:
Wondering the right issues is really a cornerstone of problem-solving in the technology industry. Whether you're a software developer, information researcher, system manufacture, or some other complex qualified, the capability to articulate accurate queries is essential. Skilled specialized questions not just show an intensive understanding of the subject matter but also offer as a driver for creativity and improvement.
Types of Qualified Specialized Questions:
Specialized questions period a broad variety, including code challenges and algorithmic problem-solving to infrastructure optimization and safety concerns. Knowledge the various categories of issues is crucial for specialists seeking to enhance their problem-solving abilities and deepen their experience in specific areas.
Navigating Algorithmic Issues:
Algorithms sit in the centre of numerous specialized disciplines. Experts often experience intricate algorithmic issues that need innovative thinking and a solid understand of elementary concepts. This section explores common algorithmic issues and strategies to method them methodically.
Troubleshooting and Debugging Techniques:
On earth of engineering, experiencing insects and problems is inevitable. Successful troubleshooting and debugging skills are, therefore, essential. That part of the report delves into established processes for distinguishing, isolating, and resolving specialized dilemmas, ensuring clean procedures in computer software growth and process maintenance. سوالات فنی حرفه ای
Information Research Dilemmas:
Information scientists grapple with diverse issues, from washing and preprocessing information to building and fine-tuning models. This area discusses the nuances of qualified complex issues in the area of information science, covering issues such as for instance function design, design evaluation, and ethical considerations.
Infrastructure and Marketing Quandaries:
System designers and IT experts face challenges linked to infrastructure scalability, protection, and performance optimization. This article examines frequent situations and the issues that occur in these domains, giving insights into best methods for sustaining powerful and effective systems.
Security in the Electronic Era:
With the raising prevalence of internet threats, safety specialists must stay ahead of the curve. This part addresses the active landscape of cybersecurity and features important issues linked to danger recognition, weakness assessment, and episode response.
Emerging Technologies Unveiled:
As technology remains to advance, experts should grapple with questions related to emerging trends such as artificial intelligence, blockchain, and quantum computing. That the main article sheds light on the problems and possibilities shown by cutting-edge technologies.
Conclusion:
In the ever-evolving earth of engineering, the capability to question and solution skilled technical issues is really a feature of expertise. By adopting problems, remaining interested, and focusing problem-solving skills, experts may steer the difficulties of their respective fields and subscribe to the improvement of the computer industry. As the old saying moves, "It's not about having all the answers, but knowing just how to ask the best questions.
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🏴☠️ Ahoy, me hearties!
The Anonymous Quandary Cask awaits yer queries today!
🗝️ Ask away, and let the sea of questions flood me ship! 🌊💬
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A Simulated Odyssey with Agent Smith
Ah, life’s mysteries. They're like a captivating book, aren't they? Each day, a page flips revealing yet another arcane tidbit, nudging us to question the reality we’re ensnared in. Yet, amidst this ceaseless journey, comes a profound discourse that forces us to pause and ponder - are we real, or mere pawns in a colossal digital playground? And who better to guide us through this perplexing query than the Matrix’s very own, Agent Smith. His whimsical narrative in the article, “Are You Living in a Simulation, Mr. Anderson?” is the pièce de résistance that’ll compel you to question your mundane existence. Oh, the drama, the suspense!
Agent Smith is not here to spare your feelings, oh no. He’s here to thrust you into the abyss of the Simulation Hypothesis, accompanied by a narrative so engaging, it’ll make Shakespeare look like a toddler with a coloring book. Through the veil of humor and a touch of sarcasm, he unveils a theory so bewildering, it’ll have your neurons dancing the tango in sheer exhilaration.
As you wade through the sea of words, each sentence is a wave crashing over you, urging you to dive deeper (but not too deep, we promised) into the digital chasm of existence. Are we real or just lines of code in an elaborate cosmic program? Agent Smith strings along Nick Bostrom's Simulation Hypothesis with the finesse of a maestro orchestrating a symphony of ideas that’ll echo through the corridors of your mind long after you’ve devoured the last word.
But oh, the journey doesn’t end at mere speculation. Agent Smith, with his robotic charm, ushers you through the quagmire of quantum physics, exploring the glitches in our seemingly seamless reality. Every quantum quirk is a beat in the rhythm of uncertainty that courses through this intellectual expedition.
And who can ignore the delightful dalliance with moral quandaries? If we're all just binary code, do we have rights? Oh, the ethical stew this brews is richer than grandma's old recipe. But don’t fret; Agent Smith’s dry wit ensures the discourse is as palatable as it is profound.
As you reach the crescendo of this enlightening escapade, you’ll find yourself at the precipice of comprehension, only to realize, perhaps, we're all entangled in a web of cosmic code, an enigma wrapped in a riddle. And just when you think you’ve got a grasp, Agent Smith tosses another mischievous, rhetorical grenade that’ll have you questioning the very fabric of existence.
So, dear readers, if you dare to venture beyond the mundane, to tickle the underbelly of reality, and to dance with the philosophical enigmas of our time, this article is your golden ticket. Join Agent Smith on a rollercoaster of thought that spirals through the loops of reality, plunges into the abyss of uncertainty, and catapults you into a realm where every certainty is but a pixel in the grand design. Go on, take a byte of this digital apple, and let the odyssey begin!
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Which Side of Yoga Mat Should I Use? The 5 Essential Factors to Decoding the Enigma
Explore the intriguing question of “which side of yoga mat” to use. Learn how mat texture, material, and symbolic significance can elevate your yoga practice
_”Which Side of Yoga Mat Should Face Up” might sound like an unlikely search query or a puzzling question, yet for budding yogis, it’s a genuine quandary. A yoga mat, at first glance, might seem like a simple, utilitarian tool. It’s a…
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What is the best online provider for PTE Academic?
Vision Language Expert has been providing exclusive PTE academic training. This informative guide has been written solely to provide you with a definite standard perspective on the PTE instructional evaluation. Make certain you've prepared adequately for the exam in terms of question intellect and training effort.
Vision Language Experts is a reputable Online PTE practice Portal that will not only provide you with access to the best study material but will also assist you in evaluating your performance. The practice score result will eventually assist students in understanding and reflecting on their knowledge in order to perform better and achieve a higher score in the real PTE mock test.
Every day, arrive at your PTE Academic exam centre at least half an hour early. If you are very likely to examine centre only occasionally, it may impede your operation. Because PTE Academic is a computer-based exam, you do not need to bring any stationary items such as pens or pen papers to the exam centre.
They provide an erasable notepad or booklet for difficult work. It is not permitted to shoot your watch or any other device over the testing area. The first module you'll try will be speaking in PTE Academic, followed by writing and finally speaking. Reading and writing In the end, the hearing module will be part of your exam.
SWRL is the test flow. When you begin your test by talking, you should evaluate your headset and microphone. Talking a little louder than usual could be extremely beneficial.
In general, 1 2 Into 1 3 test-takers sit into the exam alongside your talking department, and you want to concentrate straight back to back discussing questions and also should take a posture to listen to a voice. We now have 6 different types of questions in your PTE Academic speaking module for the reason that 6 questions.
Vision Language Experts is the best website for PTE Academic practice because it provides a complete solution to your PTE preparation. The website will assist you in improving your overall Speaking, Writing, Reading, and Listening abilities.
The website is regularly updated with the most recent and frequently asked real exam questions.
Apart from study materials, Vision Language Experts is also intended to teach time management skills, which are necessary for students to gain confidence and ultimately score higher marks in the real exam.
Furthermore, Vision Language Experts includes a special set of mock questionnaires to test your grammatical standard and accuracy.
There is no such thing as a private debut. The first scored query type would be read aloud. The duplicate sentence can be of the type 2 and question. The next type of quandary is Describe Image. Most test-takers get straight 90s in PTE academic on the internet instruction speaking because it's simple and if you follow specific tips, getting 90 scores isn't such a big deal.
These two questions are critical for both writing and reading scores. After talking and writing, test takers will go through the scanning section, which contains five different types of questions. This module is all about correctly answering 14 17 questions from the Restricted time. Using collocations may be beneficial in this module. If you have a good sense of punctuation, you will be familiar with this module to some extent.
Listening is your preceding skill in PTE Academic, and once you move to listen, you have the option of taking a 10-minute break. If you believe you are tired, use the optional divide; if you believe you are in perfect mental condition to perform the exam, move without breaking.
Reading entails handling 20 distinct brief calls and responding to eight different types of questions. Summarize Spoken text is a very strong question in this segment, and it may result in a 2 3 number. Staying all questions are essentially achievable with a small amount of training and the use of some tried and true.
Listening: This section assesses your ability to listen to and comprehend academic lectures, as well as summaries key facts and ideas. The challenge in this section is that you may listen to a lecture with complete focus but end up forgetting the key points.
Vision Language understands the problem and assists you in overcoming it by providing a variety of audio materials to practice listening and remembering.
Tips for Improved Performance: Time management is essential here. Don't be alarmed if you lose important audio content. Maintain you’re cool and stick to your time management PTE strategies.
Improving both your reading speed and accuracy. A consistent practice of listening and summarizing will help you remember the information better.
Maintain your composure and patience while responding. One incorrect answer during a panic attack can lower your score.
It's a good idea to take quick notes while listening to an audio file. This will allow you to quickly find the correct answer or summaries important points later.
#pte79plus #PTE #pteblacktown #pteonline #PTE #pteblacktown #pteonline #ptespeaking #pteacademic #ptereading #ptelistening #ptewriting #e2pteacademic #ptemocktest #ptetest #pteexam #pterepeatsentence #pte2022 #ptereadaloud #ptespeakingtest #ptedescribeimage #ptetips
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what’s up guys
#got like ten followers from my stupid tattooed din oneshot ffghfhgfm#how y'all doin#what's the mood today#any good news?#questions?#quandaries?#queries?#what are the vibes today lads I must know#esp after those pics of pedro at the nic cage movie set 💀#lari speaks
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What Happens When I’m Asked To Write A Tomione Seven Gins Deep
This is dedicated to @highgaarden for issuing me a challenge to complete a Tomione/Hogwarts Professors/HEA while intoxicated. It is also dedicated to @akorah for putting up with both of us. (Minimal edits have been applied for grammar mostly.)
Warning: Below lies crackfic insanity and more ineptitude than I generally aspire to emulate.
“Professor Granger.”
He said it brusquely as if propriety were the only thing keeping it afloat in the sea of students between them.
But that was Tom’s way.
No, Professor Riddle’s.
“Professor Mystery. Professor Enigma. Pro-hic-fessor goddamn fucking Crux-Whore.”
“Girl, you wasted,” McGonagall slurred, brandishing more wine as Hermione swung from the portrait of Headmaster Snape, blowing raspberries at him.
“It’s always like this,” Hermione pouted.
“It be like that,” McGonagall corrected. “Psssh, Granger, get with the times.”
“The times? The times? It always is times Minnie-ervy-erva!” Hermione yelled, sounding angry but really it was just righteous. Righteousness always sounded angry because it was so often spoken through a bullhorn.
“Grangerrrr-bo-beaver-fo-fever-wo-weaver,” McGonagall said seriously.
Hermione stilled, “You sound serious,” she told her mentor.
“I am always serious,” McGonagall replied with a very serious tongue-waggle. “But right now I seriously suggest you visit Professor Conundrum and give him what for.”
“What for?” Hermione asked, confused. “What for?”
Clarifyingly this time.
“You need to ask him what his tone means and what it’s for,” McGonagall nodded, sincerity bleeding out of her eyes. Which was vaguely alarming, but rather normal since the war a hundred bajillion years ago.
McGonagall and Hermione stormed to Professor Dilemma’s private quarters.
They hopped off their rainclouds and banged on the door.
“Thomasthomasthomasthomasthomasthomas,” Hermione shouted. Which, incidentally is much closer to indignation than righteousness if one had to categorise it.
“It’s just Tom, actually,” a weary voice sighed behind them.
“No, it’s not,” McGonagall scoffed.
“Um, no, it is,” Tom Riddle, fit as a fiddle, bashfully admitted. If he could be bashful. (’Every bashful person is LYING, just be shy or not, geez...’ thought Hermione.)
“No one is just called Tom,” McGonagall insisted, fingers itching with fanciful insistingness.
Hermione pointed a rancorous and accusatory finger at him. She dressed it like Ace Attorney for the occasion and it’s little suit looked rather lovely in the dungeon light.
“You! Professor Quandary!” she pontificated (let’s not get into what THAT was close to. It’s really, really not worth it).
“Quirrell?” McGonagall queried.
“Not quite,” Hermione sniffed. “A long time ago.”
“Oh, times have changed,” Minerva bobbled. Hermione goggled at her with all the shock of someone who had been chastised for something similarly time-based not too long ago. I.e. A lot.
“Jesus Christ,” Plain Old Tom pleaded to the heavens.
“He won’t help you,” Hermione pouted, “I’ve tried. Told me he’s more into the ‘grand scheme of things’ rather than some ‘silly little witch’s problems’.”
“I think we’d get on,” Tom shrugged.
“What for, Tom!” McGonagall shrieked, limbs akimbo before coming together in a Wonder Woman pose.
Hermione copied her, naturally.
“If that even is his name,” Minerva edged out the side of her mouth.
“I highly doubt it,” Hermione replied, sensibly.
“Look, before you ask, I can answer. So will you let me?” So-Called-Tom raised placating hands at them.
“Fucking Riddles, always knowing the answers and posing questions anyway,” Hermione grumbled with rising arousal.
“I’ll let you for a club sandwich and a pint of strawberry bourbon,” McGonagall bargained. Rather reasonably, Hermione believed with an impressed nod of her head.
“But...” Tom floundered. “Gamp’s Laws!”
“So?” Minerva sassed her head and raised her hands in a ‘Who’s your momma’ kind of way.
Tom sighed again and summoned the requested items.
“Score!” McGongall fist-pumped and wandered away.
“Thank God,” Tom exhaled. He turned to address her, “Hermione.”
It was said with caramel.
Wait, no, with sweetness.
Hermione blinked and shook her drunken head.
“Why were you mean to me?” she stuck her lip out. Then bit it as she thought maybe she looked a bit like a puckering mongoose in the first instance.
“It’s the first of the month.”
Tom took her shoulders in his hands which were slight and droopy with overwork.
“Which means,” he continued with the stretch of infinity pulled like gum between teeth and a finger. Or perhaps something more romantic. “That you will get off your gourd with McGonagall and I have to stake out her office to make sure you get back to your room safely. And hopefully not stumble into Myrtle’s bathroom to try her next batch of toilet wine like last time.”
“Oh,” Hermione contemplated him like a 3-Michelin star prize dish. “How come we didn’t see you then!”
“I mentioned you are off your gourd right?” he reminded her. “Why do you think I was right behind you?”
“Oh yeah... Is this interest?” Hermione pointed between them.
“I suppose... No. Yes. Yes, it is.” Tom stated.
“Good, invite me in then. Let’s sleep together,” Hermione wafted him away to open the door.
Unlike malleable and friendly smoke though, he stayed. The bastard.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he said.
“Probably not,” Hermione retorted, “But you shouldn’t go trying new things this far into your many lives. It’s bad for your back.”
“What?” he flexed in a perplexed fashion.
“For!” Hermione cheered with a clap of her hands. “Come on, then. We’ll make it a competition. I bet I can sleep so much better than you-u-u,” she ended it on a yawn to prove her point.
Tom looked at her like a puppy looks at a tennis ball in the hand of its best friend. “Oh, Hermione. Okay, sure. I’ll take that bet.”
And he opened the door.
#tomione#tom x hermione#crackfic#ficlet#author went on to have two more gins#author woke up not dead#twas a miracle
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Top 5 gothic romances (I need inspo)
keeping in mind that I am far more of a film person than a book person, and that I have a very loose definition of gothic romance:
Crimson Peak (dir. Guillermo del Toro), the quintessential gothic romance, and the expression of all the things I love about the genre. pure perfection in horror, desire, beauty, and emotional catharsis, particularly at the end.
Decision to Leave (dir. Park Chan-wook) is not a gothic romance per se-- it's more accurately described as a modern noir police procedural. still, there's something to be said for the femme fatale as the sister to the gothic hero... and this movie should be big among the crowd that loves places shaped by the events of the story, that shape the story right back in turn.
Dragonwyck (dir. Joseph L. Mankiewicz), the film that inspired large portions of Crimson Peak! I still think Nicholas and Miranda could have been happy together, if not for the horrors.
Beauty and the Beast (dir. Gary Trousdale & Kirk Wise). Belle is the gothic heroine of all time, as per this post by @tybaltsjuliet.
and finally, A Dowry of Blood (by my darling friend ST Gibson), which remains one of the darkest, loveliest orchids I have ever had the pleasure of planting in my soul.
#ask games#lucacangettathisass#questions queries quandaries#my definition of a gothic romance is anything that makes me feel dark & stormy feelings hope this helps#a Dark and Stormy Night of the Soul
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To Tell You The Truth Part Two
Fandom: Prospect [2018]
Pairing: Eventual Ezra/Prospector!Reader
Rating: Holy shit M.
AN: Monday has finally come! I'm having a lot of fun writing this (even though this chapter is a bit shorter), and I hope it shows. Enjoy!
Tag List: @huliabitch @renegademustelid @wrestlingfae @zombiexbody @sporadic-fics @rzrcrst @lackofhonor @the-feckless-wonder @arrowswithwifi
Part One
[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains allusions to previous sexual and/or physical abuse. Stay safe!]
"Well," Ezra said some time later, his voice still a little raspy from performing his own interventions, "Damon may not have been overly intelligent, but the man was certainly resourceful." He tilted out from beneath the navigation console, carefully stripping free another lump of tape from the mess of wires. "He must have pawned off nearly every non-essential object under there. And a few that, regrettably, are." The older man squinted up at you, no doubt taking in the hopeless expression you were sure was on your face.
"So I'm stuck here." You breathed.
"Slow down a beat, gentle soul. We're not played out just yet. The Saders may have the bits or bobs we need. Or…" he trailed off, those dark eyes fixed contemplatively on a point above your shoulder. "Damon mentioned the Queen's Lair and those Karolclan mercs. I assume you are already aware of-" He stopped when you shook your head, his brow furrowing in confusion.
"Damon talking about it with you was the first time I heard his plan." You confessed. "I had no idea that was why we were here, I just...I mean he told me we were digging of course, b-but I didn't realize it would be...like that." You finished awkwardly.
"And why would you? Better to keep you in the dark, I suspect. Easier to maintain his grip if you don't know there's a secure payout." Ezra replied sourly. "It's bad business if Karolclan is involved. Them or those Krebine degenerates. No sane man would accept that job."
"Before you got him talking, I didn't even know that he used to have a family crew." You continued, not sure why you were still rattling on. Nerves, probably. "He never mentioned them."
"A man's sins can weigh heavy on him. I imagine he figured there was no harm in tellin' me a few of 'em, since he assumed he would be comin' out on top in our engagement." Ezra said dismissively, rolling the tape into a tight little ball. "That is interestin' though, that he would keep you so far in the black. No trust lost between partners." He cocked his head, fixing you with that thoughtful stare. "Though...I am beginning to suspect 'partner' is an incorrect moniker." He muttered, half to himself.
The man gritted his teeth after a moment, wrapping a hand around his elbow and cradling his injured arm to his chest. The thrower wound on his bicep, though treated and sealed off, had continued to slowly ooze yellow fluid around the 'cream' foam. Through the tear in his thermal layer, you could see that the skin around the sealant had gone a sickly pink.
"It would seem," Ezra began, sounding somewhat strained, "that I did not close the wound in time. I am afraid I may have to press our objective to trade with the Saders a little more insistently." He appeared to be making a concerted effort to keep his voice steady. "I apologize, gentle soul."
You had already started to empty the contents of your cumbersome exploration pack out, digging through the tattered pouches for your mending kit. "I'll patch your suit." Ezra gave you a blank look and you shook your kit at him impatiently. "We need to plug the hole in your exosuit. Any sort of loss of integrity is bad, especially if we have to tether. I can fix the rip."
He worked his jaw momentarily, the motion seeming like a bit of a tick. Hopefully it wasn't a leftover from when he had gotten acquainted with your head. "How long will that take?"
"Ten minutes, if that. I'll make it quick." You tapped the bulky chronometer on your wrist.
After he nodded, you tugged gingerly at the sleeve of his half-peeled exosuit where it hung limp around his waist, donning your gloves before you attempted to wipe the sticky fluid off the thick fabric. Then, you flipped the sleeve inside out as best as you could, noting with a touch of dismay just how much pollen was already embedded in the seams.
Undoing your patch pack, you quickly measured and snipped out a rectangular piece from the double-sided patch material. Your handheld stitcher buzzed wearily at the tough outer layer of his suit, semi-straight lines of faded khaki thread punching their way through to secure the lurid orange patch.
"Look at you." Ezra murmured, his voice drawing you out of your focused work. "This is your comfort zone, isn't it?"
You ducked your head down to avoid his gaze, smoothing the rubber sealant backing over the inside of the stitching. "Done." You said quietly.
He inserted his wounded arm back into the sleeve, dragging his fingers across the freshly-patched hole. "I daresay it's better than new, gentle soul! Much obliged for that, though I know it's not just for my benefit." The older man praised, making you flush. Damon had never thanked you. "With that, I suggest we gather your accoutrements and be on our way."
…
Ezra seemed to be in a worse state than he had originally let on. It might have just been the added stress of movement and drawing filtered air, but his staggering was starting to reach a concerning level. At this rate, he would trip over the tether line.
Your gaze trailed down to the inside of your helmet, resting on the gasket barely within your field of view. There was the lone chiclet of Brism gum that you had traded for so many stands ago, taped to the side of the lining. You lazily brought your eyes up again, realizing that Ezra had halted once more. If you took the stimulant-loaded gum, you might be able to…
To what? Overpower him? Outrun him? It wouldn't do you any good now, he was the one who knew where you were going. Better to continue to save the Brism for a real emergency. He had given his word, what little that counted for, and thus far, he hadn't proved himself to be a threat.
To anyone besides Damon, anyway. You recalled how Ezra's shoulders had slumped in defeat when Damon had pressed the pistol to his helmet and forced him to open his trophy case. Knowing how long he must have been here, how difficult it must have been to scrape together what he had found...
You cleared your throat. "Are you-"
"Gentle soul, for both of our sakes--it is best if you do not ask that question." He interrupted, the labored breathing in his helmet com threatening to deafen you. "I am doing my--damnedest not to dwell upon--the uncertainty of my current bodily quandary."
"How do you still manage to use so many words, even when it sounds like your saturation is garbage and you're pulling your air through a filter of mud?" You asked incredulously.
"I am a loquacious fool, gentle soul." He paused to wheeze, then continued on as if to prove his point, "My lighthearted inclination toward palavering has turned into a shortcoming of most grievous impact, given our circumstances." He gave you a curious glance. "I did not anticipate your scathin' query."
You gulped, realizing belatedly how sharp your words had been. "I-I'm sorry, I wasn't-"
"Calm yourself, gentle soul. I did not mean to imply that it was unwelcome." Ezra graced you with a quick, pained grin. "It has been a short eternity since I've had anyone to speak to, you must understand. My extensive vernacular has been languishin' in the rushes." He straightened back up, but continued to cradle his injured arm to his chest. "It's refreshing."
"What about your partner?"
Ezra shook his head at you. "Number Two was mute. Silent as the grave. Whizz at numbers though, could calculate the depth and breadth of just about anythin' if you had parchment to spare."
You hummed in understanding, his overly-wordy terminology suddenly making much more sense. He was used to filling in the silence. Ezra grunted, rubbing a tentative circle around the patch on his suit. "Should...should we put your arm in a sling?" You queried nervously.
"I am afraid it is a mite too late for that, gentle soul." He flexed the fingers on his right hand, swearing softly. "Martyr's malfeasance, that is seizin'. Can barely feel anything south of my elbow. You'd think that would be a blessing." He groused. "Whole thing tingles like a stranger's touch." Ezra looked up and then abruptly halted. "Ah, now here we have some promise." He said, sounding relieved.
You followed his line of vision and froze when you spotted a black-clad figure in the distance, watching the two of you.
"Don't move fast. We don't want to spook 'em." Ezra murmured, slowly raising his good arm to hail the individual. They crouched slightly, cautious. You could relate to that. Ezra waved at them, gloved fingers spread wide as if to display that his hand was empty.
The person darted off back into the underbrush after several tense seconds and you heaved out a sigh of relief. It was short-lived however, as Ezra started lumbering in the direction they had gone. "Where are you-"
"As Eurydice attempted to follow her beloved Orpheus out of the Stygian Abyss, so too we must follow our potential benefactor and have faith." Ezra looked back at you, smiling thinly. "Come, gentle soul. Departing the Green is naught but one more Herculean trial for us to conquer."
He held out his hand to you as if you were a small child. You narrowed your eyes at him and he chuckled, letting his arm drop once more.
"I meant no disrespect. I assumed you needed assurance. You looked ready to take flight like a startled bird."
"I'm fine." You replied stiffly, "I just have the brains to not immediately trust strange people I stumble across in the Bakhroma Green."
"I resemble that remark, gentle soul." Ezra pointed out quietly. "Yet here you are, tethered up. What does that say about your good sense and sensibilities, I wonder?"
"I'm very adept at ignoring warning signs when it suits me." You snapped before you could think better of it.
Ezra's harsh bark of laughter startled you, his smile weirdly genuine when he aimed it at you this time. "I must say, your changeable explosions of acrid ferocity are keepin' me on my toes!" He exclaimed. If you didn't know any better, you would say he sounded delighted. "You are wonderfully fiery when you forget to be timid, gentle soul."
You bit your lip nervously, uncertain if you ought to display concern over how amused he seemed to be.
The large dome of his helmet bumped against yours. "You have gone pensive again, like our dear Sol when it hides behind roiling nimbus banks. Perhaps I am too prone to exposition to suit someone of your taciturn nature. Damon did not strike me as a man of many words." His tone was light, but his eyes were serious. You abruptly felt like you couldn't breathe as his body loomed over you.
"Too close." You managed to say, not ready to attempt to actually push him away.
Confusion flickered across his face, then he seemed to realize that he was leaning his helmet on your own. "Oh! My most sincere apologies, gentle soul. Number Two was a sturdy individual. Afraid I'm overused to restin' a bit of weight where it doesn't belong." He took a large step back, holding his hands out as if to assuage your fears. "I-I meant no disrespect."
His stammer took you by surprise. On someone who seemed so self-assured, it was decidedly out of place. You chewed on your lip and then dared to ask, "What's wrong? You're all...worried."
He stilled, looking away from you and suddenly grimacing in pain. "I...I'm afraid my sands are runnin' low, gentle soul." He admitted quietly. "We have to keep movin', get the lead out."
He trudged forward and before you could reconsider, your hand shot out to grab his. You squeezed it briefly, and then released him. "It'll...it'll all be okay." You tried to assure him, smiling at him like he had at you.
Ezra's expression was unreadable, his heavy brows furrowed deep with thought. He didn't respond to you verbally, just shaking his head after a moment and continuing onward through the Green.
...
The leader of this particular group of Saders, a man named Oruf, welcomed the two of you graciously into his tent once you had stowed your weapons a safe distance away from his village.
Even in the filtered tent, Ezra's wheezing grew more and more pronounced as the minutes passed. You were actually worried now, just how long had he been limping around with half-functional filtration?
"I was once a man like you, who came with a mind to strike aurelac." Oruf murmured. "But that man died down there in the Green." The other bedraggled inhabitants of the tent were eerily silent as Oruf spoke. He clearly commanded some lofty form of respect. "Born anew amongst friends, bonded into layers beyond the ability of the materialists to perceive." Oruf continued grandly.
His eyes wandered to you as Ezra stifled another coughing fit, the Sader leader observing your every move with a calm boldness that had you on edge.
"And now, our son will play for you." The boy, a sullen-looking child with hollow eyes who had been introduced as Fahr, obligingly accepted a strange instrument from his father.
Ezra, who had been almost doggedly focused on Oruf, jerked his eyes down to Fahr at the droning sound of the instrument, the prospector tilting his head to the side. Oruf continued to stare at you and you, in turn, continued to try and ignore the lingering fear currently chewing a hole through your stomach. You couldn't shake the sensation that something was very, very wrong.
There was a woman laying on a pallet off to the side of the main room, and you wondered whether she was ill. She hadn't so much as opened her eyes the entire time you had been there.
The music stopped abruptly and you snapped your gaze back to Oruf, but mercifully he had his eyes closed.
"That was beautiful." Ezra complimented, his voice seeming deliberately soft. Fahr inclined his head and then got to his feet, retrieving a small tray with two cups on it.
Ezra perked up visibly, accepting his cup with a nod of thanks. When you received yours though, you felt a bit queasy. The contents looked a little more...viscous than you would have anticipated.
Ezra sipped from his tumbler far more cautiously than he had imbibed the coffee in the pod. "Juice." He informed you helpfully, no doubt noticing your less-than-thrilled expression. "S'good for you, cleanses the dust."
Another coughing fit rattled his chest and you wondered fearfully just how much dust was in your lungs. The so-called 'juice' felt like an oil slick in your mouth, slimy and wrong, but you gulped it down anyway.
"Thank you for your kindness." Ezra said hoarsely to Oruf as Fahr vanished behind the curtain to the tent's side room. "Now, as you can see, I have sustained a trauma to my shoulder and would much like to flush it with your magic juice." He paused, "and to keep straight, we would also be very interested in proper dressin' and uh, filter refreshers if you have them and can spare them." Ezra tapped the filter that hung slack from his purifier assembly. "In return for your gracious offering, we are prepared to compensate with generosity in equal measure."
He indicated at the heavy pack you had left beside the tent doorway, filled to the brim with everything and anything from the pod that you hadn't needed (and a few things that you could justify living without).
The young boy emerged from the curtained-off room once again, this time toting a large canister of liquid and a tray of small boxes, balanced on top of one of those all-too-familiar white cases. Fahr carefully laid the items out on the ground in front of you and Ezra, then retreated to sit down beside Oruf. "Here is our offer." The Sader patriarch announced calmly.
Despite the proclaimed direness of his infected wound, you didn't miss the way Ezra skipped over everything that might have been remotely beneficial to him to head straight for the white case. Old habits die hard, you supposed. He shakily flipped up the latches and cracked the lid.
Nine healthy-sized aurelac gems were nestled in the protective foam, all clear shells and amber pearls.
"I'm sorry, I don't understand." Ezra said slowly, a tentative smile quirking his mouth as he glanced up at Oruf.
"For your woman." Oruf elaborated from across the tent, gesturing down at the white case and then to you.
The breath stuttered in your lungs. You could have sworn your very heartbeat stopped. Silence reigned in the cramped space as you stared at the Sader man.
For your woman.
He was bargaining with Ezra, offering all those supplies and aurelac, for you. You abruptly wanted to puke. In that moment, you wished desperately that you hadn't obeyed them when they demanded you and Ezra to leave your throwers far from their little village.
Ezra appeared just as stunned as you were, finally croaking out, "that is...that is a bold offer."
"It has been determined, but you cannot see because aurelac fills your eyes. It is inevitable all the same, that they will be reborn just like me." The Sader man leaned forward intently. "That is the reason why you were brought here. Not the aurelac."
"What…" Ezra swallowed hard, his voice grating roughly. "W-What do you need her for?"
"We lost our mother." Dread flooded your body anew as Oruf waved a hand towards the woman on the floor. Not sleeping, but dead, you realized. "And the rush past, it is time to rebuild."
You were absolutely going to be sick. The juice in your stomach writhed queasily, threatening to make a reappearance. They wanted you...as a mother?
"The Currents have felt our loss, and have pulled you here to reclaim the balance." The man continued relentlessly.
You shot Ezra a panicked look and noted with despair how dark his expression was. He worked his jaw unconsciously, popping it over and over. He was seriously considering this offer, you could see it plain as day on his face. After all, what were you to him?
You were nothing, just like you had been to Damon. A convenient floater. Freighter scum. And to this man, trapped here for far too long, you were his ticket off the Green.
Hours upon hours spent docked in the clutches of various freighters merged together into a mangled, horrifying mass, each instance worse than the last as you tried futilely to shove them all back down.
"You're a floater, who the fuck would even care?" Damon hissed, unstrapping his flight suit and gesturing downwards with one sharp jut of his wrist. "I picked you up for one fucking reason, you understand?"
You were going to be sick.
"Scream all you want, no one can hear you. This pussy is mine."
"No one else would help you. I'm the only one. Don't fucking forget that."
You pressed a hand to your mouth and bolted out the flap of the tent, barely remembering to shove your helmet back on as you went. They want a mother.
No no no no no!
You knew in the back of your mind that it was foolish of you to run off on your own, but the idea of sitting there calmly while Ezra meted out your bodily worth in chunks of aurelac was impossible to consider.
You heard footsteps pursuing you and as you turned your head to look, your boot caught on a small hummock. You fell to the ground hard, quickly rolling over onto your back before Fahr lunged to land on top of you. The boy held a large, curved knife to your throat but then he paused, glancing backwards.
You could hear shouting from the tent. You quickly reached up while the child was distracted, tearing free his filter tube and then shoving him off your body. Free once more, you took off pell-mell back into the jungleous expanse.
Damon's voice echoed in your ears as you fled to where the throwers were hidden.
"You're a floater, who the fuck would even care?"
Part Three
#ezra (prospect 2018)#ezra prospect#ezra prospect x reader#ezra prospect imagine#ezra x reader#slow burn#eventual romance#somebody save me#pedro pascal#pedro pascal imagine#i don't know how to tag this#please forgive me#prospect 2018#canon-typical violence
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How it feels to be an engineer in core department?
Ashamed! Happy! Depressed! Proud! Guilty! Enthusiastic!
Yes, you read that right that's how it feels it’s a mixture of all feelings, I am a Mechanical engineer from southern part of India and I will be sharing my experiences here. This quandary filled journey start from junior college, with two categories of students in science group, one being the student who took it out of his own interest and the other who opted it because of parent’s compulsion, actually it’s more of relatives stupid ideas and suggestion. These relatives suddenly get dynamic after our inter results whom I wasn’t even aware that they exist in my family tree. After a huge struggle in my 11thand 12th with a good satisfactory score we pass out junior college with a dream word being said, ‘once you finish your inter you can enjoy the life’, the most unrealistic lie said to us.
Then getting into an engineering college is a huge struggle because of the stream to be selected, here at this point 75% of the students don’t have an idea why they have selected this stream, 20% of students took this stream because of some silly reasons such as boys alone in mechanical department so mechanical engineering, more girls in computer science department so computers and electronics, students who choose this department because their friends chose it and the rest 5% people will have a clear cut idea why they chose the respective department. All these categories of students will come into one single roof and start their journey.
‘College life expectations verses reality’ is one famous phrase that we all know about and after the first day of college is that is when you realize that the statement (once you finish your inter you can enjoy the life) is a lie. After a lot of struggles in college, cheating in tests, begging the professors, fighting with other department students, facing love failures, crush failures and with much more fully packed engineering life comes to an end after 4 years and just after your final exam of 8thsemester you will get this question from those magician relatives who were vanished for these four years suddenly come into existence and ask us one question, “WHAT’S NEXT, WHERE DID YOU GET PLACED” and that moment is the most irritating moment of life and with a lot of mails and resume printouts we finally find a job. If I had saved my resume printout money I would have got bOAT earphones.
The first job is always a dream to many of the youngsters out there and when that happens we all will be in cloud nine but choosing the first job actually becomes a huge challenge because of the variety of options available, here too we can find two types of students, the first one, no matter from which stream the student is from but finally he/she ends up in IT sector (honorary mention – Sundar Pichai also did the same). The other category is that students who love their department to the core and wish to just work in the core companies and this may sound easy but it’s the more toughest job on planet, studied civil engineering and getting into IT field has nowadays become normal but seeing a student who studied civil and has become a civil engineer is just like seeing a Haley’s comet. I am proud that I am one such Haley’s comet.
The struggles of IT sector workers are huge but let me detail it in another blog. So, now coming to the core job holders, where you are expected to have 3-5 years of experience within the age of 21, must be aware of the latest trends in engineering and also must have been participated in World War I and II and work for 16 hours a day! How is this even possible, but this is how the core field expects. Speaking about trends in engineering, in school teacher starts a new concept and says, “you will learn this in college in detail” and skips the topic and in college professor says, “you have already learnt this concept in school” and skips the topic and finally at work place you go and stand without knowing anything, your senior will ask, SORRY will yell at you saying, “what the hell did you learn in your school and college” that moment you will be in no position to explain your position to the your senior and there are other expectations where your senior expects you to know the working of everything right from a pencil sharpener to activating the RDX, which may be possible in the parallel universe but not here.
To all my Haley’s comet, don’t worry this isn’t your fault because in college lab access was only during limited number of hours and also our exposure to the machines are limited to the experiment list which are updated once in a millennium and not more than that. This is the reason which we lack practical knowledge and aren’t much familiar with the machines or devices. The another important problem here is with the interdisciplinary subjects, being in a one department we were not much allowed to explore other department subjects inside the college and this became a negative aspect for us.
The problems listed above are just 0.001% of the actual problems faced by my fellow Haley’s comet and regular stars (IT sectors). For every problem there is an answer so the same way, this problem also comes with an answer i.e. students must much focus on practical knowledge and also must be aware of what’s happening in engineering around the world, unless we move forward to the professor and have interest in ourselves we will not be able to get any fuel to pump our brains, be open to learning always, if you a mechanical stream guy and they ask you to learn coding to control the machine, learn it no matter what, if you are a electrical engineer and you are asked to learn about mechanical systems learn it, future technologies will involve all the streams and will be integrated into one. I have listed out our problems and also solutions that I figured out, so a huge hi-fi for my entire fellow engineers and wish you all the best for your future.
I wanted to finish with a saying by Indian director Balu Mahendra (I am a huge fan of cinema), “we may win, we may lose, we may earn, we may face difficulties but among all this, it’s a huge blessing that you are still doing your dream job and you are still persistently staying in your field”. So be happy with what you have, kudos to my engineers out there
Narrating ENGINEer
Any queries please mail me at [email protected]
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Dear Editor, Due to the sickness and most unfortunate global circumstance, I find myself trapped with rather undelightful company. Are there any ways I can entertain myself? How are you, dear Editor, handling this most unusual time? Yours, Jeremiah
My Dear Jeremiah,
I, too, am trapped with rather undelightful company - myself! I say myself - what I mean is that I am the sole human in my plain little house, for my fellow lodgers all have left me, but I am kept company, though not for long, by those little creatures once plaguing many, but now thankfully kept at bay from most. Rats, to be simple. Aside from the man charged to dispose of them, I have had little contact, though I daresay it is a pleasure to keep to one’s apartments and tackle those odd jobs that get forgotten about when the house is full.
I will not lie and pomp myself, know that, but I have been, I daresay, unusually productive. Last night, I made myself several candles, which now light my parlour. Electricity is a great gift, but such a garish one, I must admit. Much better to sit by the lights that lit our forebears, I say! Sketching, too, has been one of my pastimes; this evening I made many attempts at a scene of Marsyas coming upon Apollo in the wood, though the curve of the sun-god’s brow, like the sun itself, evades me always.
Sewing, of course! I have needled at my little sampler, finishing off the strawberry vine border beneath the alphabet, and beside that I have taken the task of making a new shirt, entirely by hand. I daresay it is rather old fashioned, though not to my taste. When wearing it I hope to look like, perhaps, my grandfather’s father, at work in the fields (or, by my lineage, more likely the mines.) It is cut from white linen, and the pierce-and-pull, pierce-and-pull of needle and thread is relaxing, especially accompanied by the pleasant tunes of my phonograph.
Reading, too, I have attempted, though rather unsuccessfully thus far. Sewing oughtn’t be so fiendish a task to accomplish with a book in hand! If only I had some companion to read to me, I might benefit - or else some phonograph capable of holding a book inside it, and reciting it to me over! Why, then, dear Jeremiah, I might be so lucky as to listen to my favourites aloud. What a joy it would be to listen to Something Fresh, or Elizabeth and her German Garden! Ah, I shall be forced to read it myself once the shirt is finished.
Cooking, of course, is one of those daily necessities we can make a pleasure if we try. I am not in any position to engage a cook - or any staff, I am sure you understand - though if I could, I would not. Cooking gives me ever such pleasure, and since we are here I shall recommend heartily the making of bread by oneself. We tend to trot along to the baker whenever we need it, or send someone else to. There is nothing worse for health nor happiness to think that food ‘comes from the shop’. It does not; it comes from the ground, and from the ground it can take many forms. It makes sense, does it not, readers, that we ought to attach ourselves to the ground somehow? We make ourselves comfortable with hearth-fires, water bottles, and, for the lucky few, household heating, but in doing so our chronic forgetfulness takes the better of us, and we omit the importance of life and growth to our lives and growth. Go outside, if you are able, into what little garden you have, or else open a window - I have no such garden, but I have lovingly draped some blue silk over the curtain rail, and adore to see it gush and wave in the breeze. Likewise, I have grown hyacinths in a little pot, and their perfume is so darling that it chases even the prospect of rodents in my roof from my mind.
And, of course, I keep up correspondence as much as I am able. I was very pleased to receive a letter from a gentleman I am very much inundated with this morning, and I would write him back now if providence provided me a stamp. If you are blessed with a telephone, I bid you to speak to somebody each day, if only to tell them to do the same. It shall, I am certain, keep you sane.
As for keeping oneself away from unpleasant company that does not include oneself, I am ashamed to be unable to come to your aid. Know that my letterbox is never nailed shut, as it were, and that I am always happy to receive quandaries, queries, questions, even quests, though I hope they do not require me to stray outside of my ivory tower, as it were.
I do hope that this has been helpful - I rather feel I have just been boasting, or, worse, describing. I would despise to be guilty of either. It may, though, provide some spark of inspiration to you and the other readers, and I daresay if they are desirous of suggestions, or have any themselves, that they offer them.
All the best in happiness and health,
The Editor
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Covert Operations - Chapter 89
DISCLAIMER: This is a modern AU crossover story with Outlander and La Femme Nikita. LFN and its characters do not belong to me nor do those from Outlander.
SYNOPSIS: Back at Section One the Rising Dragons mission has come to a standstill due to its two main operatives’ non-involvement. Things are starting to unravel and Operations and Madeline decide to call a truce and ask Jamie to return and they will help him search for Claire. She leaves a clue for him that implicates Karen Yee and he goes in search of her as a starting point. Meanwhile Jonathon Randall pays Claire another visit but doesn’t get the answers he wants.
Previous chapters can be found at … https://sablelab.tumblr.com/covertoperations
THANK YOU for coming along on this ride as Claire faces her foes and Jamie tries to find where she is. I appreciate your patronage and support of my writing and I am glad you are enjoying this story.
CHAPTER 89
Murtagh Fitzgibbons observed the comings and goings at Section One from his post in munitions. Although operatives went on about their duties like clockwork, something was missing. The halls of Section One appeared austere and even colder without James Fraser and Claire Beauchamp’s presence. The fact that his Sugar had been kidnapped only exacerbated his feelings of melancholy, but as he watched and observed, Murtagh’s eyes suddenly lit up as if struck by a thunderbolt. He knew what it was. It was Claire’s lightness that was missing. He missed seeing her luminous face and he missed their friendly banter whenever she came over to his station.
Every time he looked up or turned a corner, Murtagh kept expecting to see her striding purposefully down the hallway coming back from a mission with the target apprehended ... but that hadn’t happened for some time. He really missed his Sugar for she was the ray of sunshine in his day. He missed her laughter, her smile and her calming presence in this world of ruthlessness. Claire was in trouble and Jamie had gone looking for her, but it was the not knowing if she was alive or dead that was eating away at him. The fact that Fergus hadn’t been able to make contact with her or her with them was also very worrying.
How could they find Claire’s location, if they couldn’t track her? She could be anywhere in Hong Kong and had probably been transferred to God knows where because they couldn't discover her whereabouts.
Although he hadn’t put much faith in God over the years, Murtagh thought it appropriate that he say a few prayers in hope of divine intervention of a miracle. However, even that was of little solace to him. He hadn't realized before how deeply Claire Beauchamp affected everyone at Section One, even Operations and Madeline had seemed a little more short-tempered since they’d known of her kidnapping and Jamie’s request for the fifteen days owing to him. Perhaps they’d realised that they had made the wrong decision, not that Madeline or Operations would ever admit to that. Their pigheadedness would be their downfall one day and now the Rising Dragons’ mission had come to a standstill due to its two main operatives’ non-involvement, and without their participation, things were starting to unravel.
Would Operations and Madeline call a truce and ask Jamie to return and offer Section’s resources to help him search for Claire? Pigs would fly before either of their leaders would change their minds and reverse their decision as far as Jamie and Claire were concerned, Murtagh thought. If he ever saw that day, he vowed that he would run naked through Section.
Shrugging his shoulders, the weapons’ expert looked over towards Tactical to see if Fergus was there. He was. Knowing how worried that his buddy had been since Claire’s disappearance, he decided to mosey on over to see if he had made any inroads in his attempt to contact her or if he’d heard anything from Jamie.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Operations strode through the corridors of Section One and made his way to Madeline’s office. He’d been having second thoughts about his decision where Jamie was concerned and had been weighing up the conversation, he’d had with him in the perch the other day. His persistence to search for Claire had goaded him and he’d forbidden him to pursue her citing that the triad was the target and that Claire was expendable. He realised now how that must have sounded to his Level 5 operative particularly knowing of their bond. There were obvious similarities to her persistence that they retrieve him when Jamie was missing in Russia. However, that was where the similarities ended. Madeline had been sent with Claire to find him, but the retrieval mission was really a hidden agenda to bring in deep cover operative.
No doubt Jamie had been reminded of their subterfuge, hence his reaction to the orders he had given him. His reluctance to do anything about Claire’s kidnapping had not been well received. In retrospect, had the tables been turned and Madeline was the one kidnapped, he too would have reacted as Jamie had. Dougal knew that Madeline would be able to be more rational, hence he sought her counsel. However, little did he know but his second in command had gone behind his back and had already asked Fergus to keep her informed on any progress on Claire’s whereabouts.
Grappling with the wisdom of his decision Operations continued on through the halls of Section One and as usual entered Madeline’s office with his normal aplomb to see her working on her computer.
She looked up to see who it was on hearing footsteps enter. “Ah, Dougal ... Come in ... What are you doing here?”
“I want some answers.”
“Answers to what?” she asked curiously not being able to make sense of what it was he was after.
“Claire Beauchamp's status.”
“I thought you had dismissed her kidnapping as a fate accompli and that Jamie was not to go after her?”
“Yes, I did say that but in hindsight I feel I may have been a little hasty,” he announced, the words almost choking him as they were uttered. It was not often that Operations had to eat humble pie and admit that he may have been wrong in his judgement.
“Hmm ... yes that may be so, but it’s not the first time you have been a tad irrational in a decision Dougal.”
Operations raised an eyebrow at her pointed retort. “Really?”
“Yes ... you were reckless, but fortunately I have made contingencies.”
“Good. I like your surprises.”
Operations smiled at Madeline’s forward planning ... she always did play the end against the middle. He knew immediately that his second in command had her finger on the pulse. She knew him well and he was right in his decision to seek her input.
“We will need to take care of this soon ... The mission has come to a standstill since Claire’s kidnapping and Jamie going dark to look for her. The Rising Dragons will be able to regroup if we are not proactive.”
“It seems we have a dilemma then doesn’t it?” Was her tacit remark.
Operations refused to give her question credence and merely asked a question in return. “You obviously are familiar with the most recent situation Madeline ... So, tell me ... where are we with locating Claire then?”
She too refused to be irritated by his words and answered concisely, “Fergus has been trying to initiate contact with Claire but he hasn’t had any success as yet.”
“And Jamie? Does he have a next move?”
“I don't know ... but you of all people know what James Fraser is like.” She paused before continuing, “His level of commitment to Section is extraordinary but Jamie’s commitment to Claire Beauchamp is inimitable. He will leave no stone unturned until he finds her. You’ve seen the lengths he goes to with targets. I don't think he's finished ... not by a long shot ...this is his partner after all.”
Operations pondered the wisdom of her words before asking, “Has he tried to communicate with Section at all?”
“There’s been none as far as I know. If Jamie doesn’t want to be stopped, he won’t be.”
“Then get Fergus on to it immediately. I’m sure he has a way of getting in touch with him.”
“Very well Dougal ... I’ll see to it. By the way, have you heard from Colum?”
“Indirectly. Oversight is still monitoring this mission closer than I'd like.”
“At least it keeps his attention away from other things.”
“Yes, but if he gets wind that our two best operatives are missing Madeline, all hell will break loose.”
“So far, everything's covered. That's not the problem.”
“What is the problem?”
“Fergus is working on a location, but there's been no response whatsoever. Your brother Colum is going to look at anything out of the ordinary as suspicious.”
“Then we’ll need to move quickly to ally his inquisitiveness. I'm sure we can shore this up.”
“I wish I were as optimistic.”
“What do you mean?”
“There are too many variables beyond our control.”
“That's true. But so far, so good. I’m sure things will go exactly as planned.”
“The Rising Dragons members are ruthless; we can’t forget that.”
“Yes ... but Section One is more so,” he stated proudly.
Acknowledging the wisdom of his statement, Madeline replied. “I’ll have Fergus come to my office and we’ll set the wheels in motion to contact Jamie.”
Good ... I knew I could count on you Madeline. I’ll be in the perch should you need me.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
“Thank you for coming, Mr. Claudel,” Madeline stated when Section’s computer whiz stepped through the door into her domain. She watched as he came and stood in front of her desk, then without any preamble asked, “What are your plans?”
Fergus raised his eyebrow at her question not quite understanding what Madeline meant. “Plans?” he queried a little perplexed.
“Regarding Claire.”
“I’m at a quandary as to know what to do. Claire’s comm. unit is down and I haven’t been able to establish contact. Until it becomes operable, then we have little to go on.”
“I see.”
“Have there been any communiqués with Jamie since he left Section?”
“No ... nothing.”
“Then I feel we should try to make contact with him.”
“Does Operations know about this?” Fergus asked a little wary of her statement given that she’d asked him to go behind his leader’s back.
“For the good of the mission, Operations has had a change of heart. He insists that we allow Jamie to use Section’s facilities to assist in Claire’s speedy return.”
“But Jamie has gone dark ... it may be impossible to make contact.”
“I’m sure you will find a way Mr Claudel,” Madeline implied categorically knowing that if anyone could contact Jamie then Fergus could. “It doesn't look good if we can't keep track of our own people.”
“I’ll try my best.”
“Good ... Don't worry. Both you and Jamie will be protected. I expect to hear something soon. You may go.”
With her dismissal Fergus turned on his heel and left Madeline’s office and immediately went in search of Murtagh.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The two friends nearly bumped into each other as they each came around the corner into the Common area of Section in search of one another.
“Hmm, you scared me.”
“I didn't think anything scared you, Murtagh.”
Fergus adjusted his glasses and they briefly held looks until he broke eye contact.
Understanding his unspoken meaning the weaponries’ expert replied flippantly for anyone who may be watching, “Get out of here,” then he continued on back to Munitions knowing that the two would get together secretly later on.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Fifteen minutes later, the two friends met up in the hallway away from the prying eyes of the perch and the common area.
“So, what’s up amigo ... what's going on?” Murtagh inquired eager to know why they were meeting in secret.
“Operations has had a change of heart about Jamie.”
Taken aback by his announcement, he was gob smacked. “You’re joking ... right?”
However, by the look on Fergus’ face, Murtagh knew he was deadly serious.
“No ... he wants me to contact him.”
“But why? ... Operations never changes his mind. ... It’s set in concrete.”
Murtagh suddenly had a mild rush of blood to the head as he thought of his earlier musings about a nudie run through Section. Perhaps the day pigs would fly was actually here. I didn't see that coming, he thought. “So, what happens now? Have you had any word from Jamie yet?
“No ... It's still too early ... it’s only been two days. But now, I’ll have to try and contact him on a deep channel.”
“Whoa, whoa Fergus, not so fast.”
“Do you have any better ideas?” he asked needing some inspiration for what he‘d been asked to do.
“No, all I'm saying is that we should put some thought into your next move.”
“Well, the way I see it, I don't have any choice. Operations wants me to contact Jamie ASAP.”
“He’s gone dark and unless we have something to give him about Claire’s whereabouts, he won’t listen ... Operations knows that. You can’t pull off the impossible.” Murtagh looked at Fergus for a reaction to his statement before asking the obvious question, “Do you have a location for Claire?”
“No ... nothing.”
“There ... see what I mean?”
“So, this is a waste of time?”
“No, I didn’t mean that ...”
“What do you mean?”
“Something's not right. It doesn't make any sense. Operations is cold and ruthless but he's not generous. Does he want to help Jamie for ulterior motives?”
“I don’t know ... Look; I've got to go Murtagh.”
“Just keep your head down and your mouth shut, you'll be fine until we figure something out or something happens to force our hand.”
“Okay ... I’ll think of something to put Operations off for a while.”
“Good.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
James Fraser had a conundrum to solve and the quicker he did so the better. His Sassenach had been missing now for nearly 48hours and although she had left him a clue as to who may be involved in her kidnapping, he seemed to be wasting precious time criss-crossing Hong Kong in search of leads for her kidnappers. He wished he could have been more expeditious, for if he had, Claire would now be safe with him. But that was not to be. She'd been transferred from her first place of incarceration to somewhere he didn't know and couldn't discover ... but he would.
All of his instincts and resolve were telling him that he was not too late to save his Sassenach despite this setback. He was certain that Karen Yee would provide the crucial lead as to where the triad was holding her, and once again Jamie sped off back to Hong Kong. This time however, he would get the answers he wanted. This time she would have no option other than to tell him where Claire was. He would accept nothing less.
He'd never trusted Karen or her boyfriend and now they would face the cold operative that he was. Whether Karen or Andy gave him the information about Claire's whereabouts voluntarily or not ... it was of no consequence to him, but they would tell him what he wanted to know. How they did so was the decision they would need to make. He would have no compunction as to how he dealt with them. They meant nothing to him ... but Claire meant everything and he would do whatever was in his power to find out where she was being held captive.
Without the resources of Section One, his task was made that much harder, but he would prevail ... he would find her and once those who held his Claire incarcerated were found, they would pay the price. Death would be the only consequence for their brutality. His suspicions would be verified about Claire's neighbour and she and her kind would suffer the consequences of their actions and deception. The thought of his Sassenach suffering at the hands of this ruthless triad was an anathema to him, but what worried Jamie the most was that he had no control over what happened to her. Therefore, expediency was so crucial. The longer she remained incarcerated the greater the risk to her safety. So far, he was no closer to finding where she was being held captive although he felt buoyed by the clue she had managed to leave for him.
Karen Yee knew something ... she probably knew much more than he even realised ... and she would divulge what she knew to him or die. Karen had no significance to him whatsoever ... she was a target... nothing more, nothing less. Her life for Claire's life was, in his mind, a fair exchange. She would tell him what he needed to know or better still ... take him to where the triad was holding her. Whatever choice she made was irrelevant. There was no way it would end well for Karen ... her fate was sealed.
Hoping that his Sassenach was still alive was keeping Jamie going ... if she had met her demise, he didn't know what he would do. He hadn't realized how deeply she affected him, how her spirit lifted him up, or how her laughter warmed the recesses of his heart. He ached. Fear and unadulterated trepidation played on his mind. Jamie was worried for her safety and what might be happening to her at the hands of the triad. Steven Bonnet and William Ransom had already paid with their lives. He would have no compunction in killing any and all of the bastards who in any way had hurt his Sassenach. They would all pay with their lives once he had found where the triad was holding her. However, Jamie felt powerless as he was no closer to finding her and he was struggling to remain focused, but that is just what he needed to be. Claire was depending on him. She needed him to find her and he would, with or without Section's help.
He'd thought about contacting Fergus but had decided against that. However, if this lead didn't pan out, he would reassess the situation. Despite his orders from Operations, Jamie knew that he could enter and leave Section without detection if he came up cold with a lead. But at the present time he felt confident that he was on the right track and that Karen Yee would provide the answers he was seeking. His sole purpose was focused on finding Claire before the triad had no further use of her. He knew she was strong but ... how long could she endure being tortured? This very thought brought bile to his throat. Jamie swallowed the rancid liquid forcing it back to the depths of his stomach.
He refused to acknowledge the muses in his head. He had scarcely slept and he'd eaten only when he could no longer ignore the demands of his body. Jamie knew there was little chance of getting any rest before confronting Karen Yee and Andy Ma ... but that was not a problem unless there was some hold-up to finding the targets. He'd make that decision when and if he needed to. He had functioned for days without respite and would rest only when his Claire was safe and sound. Putting these thoughts to the back of his mind, James Fraser had clear and precise objectives. Nothing would stand in his way of executing them. Failure was not an option. It never was and never would be. He depressed the accelerator a little harder breaking all speed limits in his haste to return to Hong Kong to find Karen Yee and her accomplice.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Jonathon Randall was deep in thought as he watched their prisoner sleep in the darkness.
Was this woman really associated with the deaths of senior triad members over the past months or did they have the wrong person? If she was ... she would pay the price, but if not then they would need to cast the net further to find out whoever was responsible. It didn't really matter one way or the other though. The woman was damned. Claire Beauchamp would never leave here alive. There was no way that she could possibly live especially now after all that she had seen and heard.
Leaning back in his chair Jonathon reread the reports from MacNab and Robert about both Claire and her companion. Karen had been explicit in her observations of Claire's so called "brother" and had relayed all the information she had on Jamie Fraser. But they were none the wiser as to his role in the turmoil that had befallen the triad other than he was her lover. Ronald on the other hand had been asked to give him something he could use next time. He'd come up trumps and had managed to find some information about the covert Section One. His report specified that Section One was the most clandestine organisation on the planet whose job was to bring down the criminals and terrorists that no one else could get.
Jonathon gave a chuckle at their profile and pondered this information. Suddenly it all began to make sense. Had it not been for Steven Bonnet finding Claire's dropped revolver, then they would not have known of her affiliation to Section One. Jonathon had heard of it but this was the first time that the triad had come in contact with anyone associated with Section One.
So ... this was the organisation that Claire was a member of. Was her companion also a member? If so, it would explain such a lot, but they would fail in their mission. There was no way that these two people could bring down the might of the Rising Dragons ... the triad was invincible especially here in Hong Kong.
Claire Beauchamp was an enigma and this Jamie was more so. James Fraser didn't seem to exist which gave more credence to the fact that he was Section material ... ghosts that moved among people but who were "dead" to the real world. He certainly fitted the mould. There was only one thing Jonathon could think of that would prove if they were both working for Section One and that was to flush out her companion. Karen had alluded to this Jamie's conduct around her and Andy as if the man was always sizing them up but in turn giving nothing away of himself. Jonathon knew that he must mean something to Claire for she was too evasive and guarded when his name was mentioned.
Was he her weakness and vice versa? If so, it was something he could exploit.
It was time to find out.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Randall activated the surveillance speakers and snapped the light switches on in Claire's room. Glaring white light flooded the room and shone on her beleaguered face. Her body jerked as she woke abruptly. Unable to focus because of the brightness, she automatically raised her arm to shield her face from the glare. Claire then gingerly sat up on the bed and lowered her head slightly. Through her closed eyelids she felt the light searing its way through her light deprived eyes. The glare was unbearable and the white-hot rays shone on her face burning the corneas of her eye sockets if she so much as opened them even a fraction, so she kept them tightly shut.
"Are the lights too bright for you my dear?"
"No ... they're just peachy thanks."
"Good ... I see you haven't lost your sense of humour."
It took Claire a short while to adjust to the light, but she did. She sat up straighter on the bed and waited for what was to come next.
"I told you I would be back," were Randall’s menacing words as he made his way back into the room.
"So, I noticed," Claire replied equally disinterested in anything that came out of his mouth.
"Now ... Let's talk about James Fraser again ... shall we Claire?" Jonathon Randall remonstrated in a more sinister voice.
“You really love him, don’t you?” He persisted with some glee in his voice.
“Did I love him?” She asked herself already knowing the answer to her question. “Beyond the urges of the flesh?”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Jonathon Randall continued his tirade as he watched Claire’s face for any indication that his words had touched a nerve. "You do love him. Not just to bed him; I know you’d want that, and he does too, doesn’t he Claire? Men all do. But do you love him?"
The incarceration of this place had the dark anonymity of the confessional, and a soul on the verge of death had no time for lies. She knew not what lay ahead or how long she would be here until Jamie could rescue her as she knew he would.
"Yes," her mind and heart muttered silently as she stared unflinchingly at her captor. “Yes! Yes, I love him.”
It was silent in the room for some time, as Jonathon Randall waited for any sign from Claire Beauchamp that his words had touched a nerve.
With a look that would kill, Claire refused to comply to his aspersions. He could go to Hell for all she cared, for she would never admit to anything concerning James Fraser. Randall could speculate all he wanted about Jamie or who had sent her ... but she would never capitulate.
"You'd be wrong then," was her only reply.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The interrogation had been fruitless yet again. Their hostage never gave an inch and once more Jonathon had gotten nowhere with his questioning of her. The woman would not break and would not be compromised. His frustration was at its zenith. Hence, due to her headstrong behaviour, Claire Beauchamp left him with only one option. It was time to set his other plan in motion.
He called for Ronald MacNab to come and prepare a video transmission.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ to be continued
I will be posting two chapters next week as the following week is Christmas and I will be busy with family and Christmas preparations.
Therefore, I will post Chapter 90 on Tuesday 17th December … and then …
Chapter 91 on Saturday 21st December.
I will also post Chapter 92 on Monday 30th December just before New Year.
#Jamieandclairefanfic#jamieandclaireau#jamieandclairecrossover#outlander fanfiction#outlander au#covert operations
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