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#riverboat reopening

the-gone-ton · 1 year

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The Suwannee Belle is a riverboat constructed in 1985 in Wisconsin by the Lacrosse Riverboat Company. It operated in New York, Alabama, and finally Florida where it offered dinner cruises. It ran aground in 1988 and was officially decommissioned in 1991. It sat in dry storage in New Jersey until being purchased by an investor for $1 in 2003. The boat was moved to Pennsylvania with the intention of dressing it up in a rainforest theme and operating as a restaurant called the Towne Crier Cafe in a small artificial pool. But the scheme went bankrupt before taking off, leaving the Suwannee Belle simply abandoned sitting in a small ditch. It was sold at auction in 2005, and it's current ownership is unknown. In 2006, Connie & Charles Gallagher bought a bar next to the Suwannee Belle and named it the Riverboat Saloon in honor of the boat that had already been left next door. The saloon's website went offline in 2015. A Yelp review from 2018 claimed the saloon was closed, with new ownership planning to reopen later that year. Today, the saloon has an active Facebook page and does seem to be open, though you might think otherwise based upon the state of the signs advertising it and the general appearance of the building. The boat itself has deteriorated seriously in the past few years. The image attributed to Tatyana Jula is from 2010 and shows how much better the boat looked at the time.

Also. All bubble blowin' babies will be beaten senseless by every able-bodied patron in the bar.

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fights4users · 10 months

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Disney please theme the tunnel

I’m a big theme park nerd, two of my favorite attractions are the liberty square river boats and the railroad. Not ones people think about when they say “Disney world” but they’re integral parts and just so… fun and charming! They’ve been updated and reopened at last and I can’t recommend it enough, they have full trip narration which I could sit all day and listen to these passionate characters who love what they do (Dark ride and transportation supremacy!) anyways that’s not the point…

On my trip in June we finally got on the train which was closed even before Covid for all FIVE YEARS of the Tron construction. The narration has been updated, not just because the huge gap in time and all the updates around the park but to give the narrator character some more… well character (he’s very similar to the riverboat narrator but they’re not intended to be the same person, I don’t think the railroad is also Sam Clemens. As of now the character is unnamed).

This update adds tron and a new interjection of female programs noticing our presence… the tunnel itself going under what, I believe is the pathway up to tron, is sort of sad:

It’s a black painted tunnel with some windows at the end to show you??? Under tron? That’s not the unloading area it’s straight up backstage pathways. Me and my dad were talking about this on the ride that it’s a VERY simple fix to make the tunnel more interesting, all you need to do is get a big stencil and paint a big white ENCOM logo down the tunnel (the grid isn’t ENCOM but it’s what people know and the identity program figures give you a ENCOM card, the lore of the attraction is a bit confusing)

What I do like is how the narrator gets cut off at the beginning of the tunnel and then keeps talking when you come out as if he just explained literal rocket science to you. That is hilarious. I didn’t notice that the first time.

Anyways, if you never road the train or riverboat highly recommend (there’s also 2023 ride through videos up. Oooo you wanna watch so bad ooooo propaganda)

#tron #tron legacy #i don’t know who would care besides me #mini ramble #tron lightcycle run #tron ride #tron rollercoaster #Disney world #walt disney world #theme park #theming #Walt Disney world railroad #Disney railroad #Disney riverboat #liberty square riverboat #tronblr #encom #Disney parks

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chuck-clenney · 1 year

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#tbt to revisiting the quirky hamlet on the Ohio River known as Rabbit Hash, Kentucky. I used to come here to buy Ale-8's on my breaks at Camp Ernst and watch the riverboats roll by. This spot is famous for its long line of dog mayors, starting with a dog named Goofy Borneman-Calhoun in 1998. The 1831 @rabbithashgeneralstore burned down and was rebuilt in 2016. This was my first time back since the reopening and we enjoyed some pralines and live bluegrass music, as part of Old Timers' Day. #kentucky #rabbithash #generalstore #ky #america #ohioriver #riverside #oldtimers #day #hamlet #dogsofinstagram #mayor #ケンタッキー #アメリカ #犬 #町長 #ラビットハッシュ #オハイオ川 #フルグラス #ライブ #音楽 #高齢者 #祭り #雨の日 (at Rabbit Hash, Kentucky) https://www.instagram.com/p/Cnl5AMEyIvY/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

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mintingprofit · 1 year

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Golden Entertainment Could Make Call On Colorado Belle In 2023

Posted on: December 11, 2022, 05:28h. Last updated on: December 11, 2022, 06:30h. Golden Entertainment (NASDAQ: GDEN) could render a decision on the fate of the currently shuttered Colorado Belle in Laughlin, Nevada next year. But it’s unlikely the operator will reopen the riverboat casino. The Colorado Belle in Laughlin, Nevada. Golden Entertainment could make a decision on the venue in…

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chipandco · 5 years

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Liberty Belle River Boat Running at Magic Kingdom but Still Not Open

In eager anticipation of the re-opening of the Liberty Belle, we finally see positive signs that that could be coming soon! #chipandco #magickingdom #libertybelle #riversofamerica #disneyworldrefurbishment @wdwtoday

After a very long refurbishment (11 months and counting) the Liberty Belle is finally showing signs of life! On a recent visit to Magic Kingdom, we noticed the riverboat was making its rounds along the Rivers of America! Though it is still not open to guests, surely this is a sign that the long-awaited reopening is imminent…we hope!

On January 8, 2018, the iconic attraction closed for what was…

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#disney world imporovements #Disney World Refurbishment #liberty belle #liberty belle in operation #liberty belle reopening #Liberty belle ride update #Liberty belle still closed #magic kingdom river boat still closed #Magic kingdom riverboat #magic kingdom riverboat opening #riverboat reopening #Rivers of America refurbishment #sailing rivers of america #Walt Disney World #WDW

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myfairgunslinger · 4 years

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Title: Red Dead Revenge: Kiss of Death [Part 2]

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x OC x John Marston

Warnings: Graphic Violence, Cursing

Summary: After Arthur saves a woman's life he takes her back to the Vanderlinde Gang where she can get the help she needs. Maeve recalls past events as she takes time to heal.

A/N: Hi guys! I’m back with a new chapter in this story. It took forever because I wanted it to be the best that I could make it. So hopefully it was worth the wait. We’re gonna be looking at Maeve at a time prior to meeting Arthur, also Arthur isn’t really in this chapter...I promise to make up for that in the next chapter! Also note about John, this story is set before his scars, so there will be no mention of them. Anyway, I hope you enjoy none the less.

- Italics means the past

Chapter Two: I Know You

"No! No!" Her neck sliced open to flood out with blood. Cecilia's eyes were wide as they stared over at her daughter. Blam! Everett's body fell to the floor as he held his stomach trying to hold in his red gore. All she could hear was her own screaming only for it all to be silenced by the last gasps of life from her mother.

"Ahhh!" She screamed herself awake followed by a pained groan remembering the gun shot. Maeve went to sit up noticing she was not wearing her own shirt anymore. This one was a faded maroon color that served as an under shirt. The cut on her skin where her collar bone was had a bandage over it. She lifted the foreign shirt to see her waist and stomach were tightly wrapped in medical cloth.

"Do not ruin that wrap," a German accented voice startled Maeve. It was here she realized they were in a large tent, "Who the hell are you?" her voice was horse, layered with rudeness. The old man had pointed at her wound, "You had a gunshot. Lucky for you it hit nothing and went through you. It was only a matter of stitching up the hole."

Maeve stared at him saying nothing. He called her lucky when that was the last of what she was feeling, "I believe a thank you is what you say," the old man said to her shutting his book to stand up. Maeve still didn't say thank you, but asked again, "Who are you?"

He scoffed out, "Americans," then left the tent. She was confused while being alone until an older woman came in. Her dark, graying hair was piled on top of her head in a pompadour style, "Ah, you're awake, Miss Milley. Gave us a fright there," she placed a hand on her hip.

"I'm sorry, who are you? Where am I? How do you even know my name?" Maeve's head had so many thoughts running through it.

"Well, you have been unconscious for about a day and a half. Mr. Morgan brought you here after you'd been shot--."

"Who?" Maeve winced her eyes never hearing that name before. The woman let out a frustrated sigh then said out slowly, "Arthur, you owl! Said you gave him a bath?"

Maeve's cheeked reddened, letting out an, "Oh," his name was Arthur Morgan, "Where is he?"

"He's out on business. Anyway, he brought you to us and Mr. Strauss, the German fella stitched you up, I cleaned ya," and that explained the man earlier, "My name's Susan Grimshaw, that's Mrs. Grimshaw around camp."

Maeve went to stand up, but stumbled a bit. Mrs. Grimshaw caught her and helped her stance, "Easy now, what's the hurry?" Maeve took her steps outside the camp, "I have to see where I am," she pushed the flap back to be met with a scorching hot sun beaming down on her. Maeve held a hand up to block out some of the light but it was a failure due to how much it flooded over her.

"New Austin, just outside a town called Armadillo," Mrs. Grimshaw filled her in while passing her a white over-shirt to wear. Maeve slipped it on looking over at the older woman then around the camp site, "Who are you people?" _______________________________________________________________

"Outlaws...every single one of you?" Maeve was walking with Mrs. Grimshaw along the outskirts. She had filled the newcomer in on who Dutch Van Der Linde was, what he and Hosea believed in and along with a majority of the camp.

They were different than other gangs, sure they robbed people but at least they weren't going around murdering fine folk for the hell of it. Mrs. Grimshaw named off who ever she saw passing by in the camp. There weren't that many people, "That Irish bug, is Sean. Stay clear of him, he thinks he's a womanizer."

Maeve made a face that could be read as, 'Don't have to tell me twice.' Maeve saw a small boy, toddler age, running by, "Children are here too?"

"Child, that's little Jack. He stays with his mother, Abigail. We all watch after him," Maeve was about to ask where his father was, but as her eyes followed the boy she saw him go embrace a woman. The sight alone caused Maeve's eyes to well up and her throat swell. Mrs. Grimshaw saw, "Miss Milley?" She couldn't take it or hold it in, Maeve walked off, out of the camp as her tears fell down her face. She was so curious and wondering where she was that it distracted Maeve enough to forget why she was here in the first place.

She collapsed into the dirt, sobbing out from all her heart ache. Maeve's hands gripped the hot sand between her fingers, screaming out from either the heat or grief, it didn't matter. Mrs. Grimshaw came over to her, "Get out of the dirt or you'll reopen your stitches!" Maeve was still crying, hunched over. She didn't care.

"Maeve! Maeve please," she tried again, "You gotta get up!" Maeve's hand came up to cover her face, "They're gone..." she whined out, "Ma, Pa....gone!" The older woman placed a hand on the woman's back, "That may be, Miss Milley, that may be. But you are still here. And you need to get yourself out of the dirt." Maeve sniffled, tears dropping on the earth.

After a moment Maeve started to stand up with the aid of Mrs. Grimshaw, "There you go, let's get you back in the tent to get you cleaned up." As the older lady started to lead her back, only Maeve had noticed that there were people staring over in her direction. Her eyes glanced over the faces of these unfamiliar people until they met with a pair of dark eyes belonging to a man with long, stringy hair. That wasn't a stranger. 'I Know You'

Mrs. Grimshaw had cleaned off Maeve as she sat there, telling the woman what happened to her family, "That's a nasty thing and you have my deepest of sympathies, Miss Milley," she threw the rag over her shoulder then said in a soft manner, "It's not easy dealing with loss, and it sure as hell never should be when it comes to loved ones. But trust me when I say, your parents wouldn't want you to be like this. They would want you to be strong. And surviving all of that, a gunshot wound...well I think you might just be a fighter Miss Milley."

Maeve watched the woman leave the tent, thinking on what she had to say. What a strange place she was in. The flap was left open and she could see the only familiar face, peaking in but trying not to seem so obvious. John Marston. _______________________________________________________________ Maeve pulled at the collar of her blue, frilled shirt trying to get air to vent through the silk. She felt so confined in the outfit her mother put together for Blackwater's Tenth Annual Bird Shooting Contest. It was the one day that a lot of the residents, including Maeve, looked forward to since the town was still growing. The Winner gets one hundred dollars and a new bolt action rifle.

"Mama, do I really have to wear all this?" the young lady was fidgeting with her yellow skirt. Her mother was standing to the side of her daughter and smacked her hand away, "Yes, yes you do. I call it 'the Kimberly'. Do you like it?"

"Who the hell is Kimberly?" Maeve kept looking over to outfit through the mirror, trying to breath through the corset that was rather tight, "It's too hot...not to mention hard to breath. I might miss my shots."

Cecilia was picking dust off the shirt that had landed on Maeve between her putting on the new clothes and now modeling in front of the looking glass, "My daughter? Miss?" Cecilia let out an amused chuckle while taking out a riverboat hat to place on Maeve's head, "You've won the last four years--"

"Five, Mama," the daughter corrected while adjusting the hat, "Five. Anyway, when all the fine citizens of Blackwater see who the winner is, I want them to see she dresses her best," Cecilia stared at her, holding such pride.

Maeve made a lop-sided smile at her, "And then come find you for pretty outfits for themselves," she said watching her mother open up a bottle of fine brandy. Cecilia rises the bottle up for a moment, "What good is havin' a beautiful daughter if I can't use her for advertisement?" the woman took a swig from the bottle. She escorted Maeve to the door who had a cheeky reply to that, "Next ya know, daddy is gonna have me ride horses around town... Oh wait!"

Cecilia rolled her eyes, "Go get shootin', smart mouth. And don't get that outfit dirty!" she hollered.

"See you down there," Maeve started to walk down to where the contest was being held, rifle over her shoulder by the strap. She waved at some of the people there, residents Maeve's grown to know, especially from the previous years of her attending the contest. Some of the men would grumble under their breath upon seeing the girl, the one that was a spectacular shot and taking the win year after year.

Maeve took out a cigarette, lighting it up then inhaling a drag while standing alone on the outskirts of the group of people. She recognized most of these people, all except one man. Her eyes were drawn to this stranger, he had a dangerous look to his eye but it just intrigued her all the more.

He stared back at her, wondering what exactly was it that had this girl's eyes on him. The man sauntered over towards her, eyeing the rifle on her shoulder, "Also 'ere for the contest? Gotta say Miss, that corset won't make things easy."

"You must have a talent in observing the obvious, Mister..." Maeve tilted her head to him. He caught on to what she wanted, "Sorry Miss, hadn't thought to introduce myself. John Marston," he offered his hand to her.

Giving him a gentle smile, she took his hand to shake it, "Maeve Milley, Miss Milley if you're feelin' fancy," Maeve then raised her shoulders up, "Although I think you might be callin' me a 'son of a bitch' after today when I win. I know the others do."

Her mouthy answer startled a chuckle from him, she may have looked like little lady, but she had a roughness to her that he liked, "Nah wouldn't dream of it. Ain't that much of a sore loser."

Maeve smiled at him, wincing her eyes as the sun shined down on them, cigarette between her two fingers. Her posture was that of confidence, willing to take on anything. She was on top of her world, "Seein' as you're new to these parts; welcome Mister Marston." She brought the cigarette to her mouth to take a couple puffs before tossing it on the ground to step on it, "So you in town just for the contest?"

"Looks that way unless there's any other reason to stick around," his eyes stayed on her face, "Anything of note that would make passin' through worth wild?" Maeve moved to where they could face Blackwater and she pointed at some of the buildings, "Still a growin' town and in a few days they'll be another contest of sorts but I find them boring. No gun, no fun," she shrugged.

"I'll have to remember that saying," he half grinned at her, "What else?" John took out a cigarette of his own to light. Maeve raised her arm up to point down the main street, "Town Hall is up if you're the political type. A ferry is up 'n' runnin' that takes you all the way across Flat Iron Lake. Never been on it though." Her father had requested she never venture off too far from home or town for that matter. Her finger pointed to her work, "Then for a decent stay there's always the saloon. Decent is the key word to describe that place. Decent rooms, decent baths, and not very decent breakfast," her voice joked. John chuckled at her review, "Doesn't sound too bad."

There was a trumpet that notified all of the crowd that it was time to start the contest. Maeve turned her head to look over then back to John, "Well, nice meetin' you, Mister Marston. May the best shooter win," she gave a gentle wave to him.

"Yeah, good luck," he watched her go off to find a decent spot. Everyone lines up, firing off their rifles as soon as birds were released to fly out. Some of the contestants got at least one or two shots in. But all of the contestants paled in comparison to Maeve's score, all except the stranger John Marston. "Not bad!" Maeve would comment on his shots, "Not too bad yourself," he would say back.

By the third round the score had tied twelve to twelve, Maeve was reloading her gun while John was looking over at her, "Tell you what, you win this and I'll buy you a drink, if I win you buy me a drink?"

"Hmm tempting, but you don't need to win a contest to get my company," Maeve suggested as John smirked, "Okay what did you have in mind?"

"Blackwater Saloon at six o'clock. Win or lose," she cocked the gun, "What do ya say?"

John nodded, "Win or Lose? I say that sounds perfect."

"Okay, just be ready to lose," Maeve grinned getting ready to fire her gun. The final birds were released and the two shooters started to unload their rifles into the air. The winged creatures fell to the earth along with their feathers. Just as John had five more birds to his name, Maeve would get six, capping off the final score of eighteen, making her the winner once more.

"Our winner, for the sixth time in a row, Miss Maeve Milley!" the announcer belted out then gave Maeve a blue ribbon with the money and rifle. She had taken a picture, smiling brightly as the flash bulb went off. Maeve saw her parents cheering and yelling out which made her blush. Her eyes then looked over to see John, clapping for her too while some of the others were grumbling to themselves.

Maeve went over to John as he said, "Well, I'll never bet against a lady in a corset again. Especially one that even told me I was gonna lose."

"I'm usually right, Mister. It's a gift and curse," she gave him the money. He looked down confused, "What's this?"

"You shot just as good as me, and trust me when I say I have not had any competition like you in years. Maybe when I was bad at shootin', but now? Not one man comes close," she explained, "And if my feeling about you is right, then you need the money more."

"What's your feelin'?" he asked, curious to know her theory.

"Passin' through, so you're a little lost...don't know where to go."

He stared at her, "GO on." Maeve shrugged, "You're a wanderer. Nothing wrong with that in the slightest, just need a break now and again."

John still had the money, "I still can't accept this. You won it fair 'n' square." Maeve shrugged, not taking it back, "And I can do with it as I want. And I want to give it to a man that needs it. Winning the contest, it never was about the money," Maeve said to him, "I just like rubbin' this pretty ribbon in a man's face, that and the rifle. Fine gun this is," she said admiring the one on her shoulder.

John barked out a laugh, then put the money in his pocket, "All I can offer is my thanks then, Miss Milley."

"Thank you..." she then glanced back at her parents who wanted to talk to their daughter. "I gotta get, but I'll see you tonight?"

"You sure will," John took out a cigarette from his pocket, "Six o'clock." Maeve stepped back, with a grin, "Six o'clock.

______________________________________________________________

Maeve had spent most of her time in the tent, laying down on the cot rethinking the stormy night. She wasn't frightened so much, just becoming angry at the events, at herself for not doing more. It just kept eating at her, all the while she wondered when Arthur was coming back from his 'business'. The last thing Maeve remembers is Arthur trying to help her while she rejected him, yelling in his face hysterically. She had to apologize for not being in the right state of mind.

She got up to go check outside, to see if he had come back yet. The girl had to talk to someone about what she was going through. Maeve's eyes observed the camp before landing on John who was looking at her. Him. He knew who she was, or close enough. Why hasn't he said anything to her yet? It was time to settle this, Maeve started to walk over to John wanting some answers to how he's here. He was an outlaw that ran with this gang, it had her wondering how long he’s been on the run. When she really thought about it, Maeve didn’t know much about John at all.

When she was close enough, Maeve cleared her throat to get his attention. John had turned his head up to her, "Yeah?" Her heart started to skip a beat when he spoke, "Um...hi. It's been a while." He said nothing, making the silence unbearable enough for Maeve to keep going, "I know things didn't exactly end well for us...I said some things, you left," her voice was descending it's volume as it recalled old times, "I just wanted to say things have been looking down for me right now, but I am glad to see a face that I recognize."

Maeve's brown orbs stared at him, begging for him to talk to her. Or acknowledge he was here with her instead the crippling isolation that was overwhelming her. No, he didn’t do any of that. Instead John still was silent as he reached for his gun holster to put on around his waist.

Waiting impatiently, Maeve broke out saying, "Can you please say something to me? I’m wanna talk and frankly all I feel is crazy."

Taking in a deep breath, the man glanced at her face with his dark eyes, "Afraid you are."

Maeve's breath was still. He just told her she was crazy? "What?"

John shrugged his shoulder, "Never met you before in my life," he then started to walk off back towards the stew pot to get a bowl. Maeve stood there with watery eyes hoping she could have at least had someone to talk to, someone that knew her before the great loss Maeve suffered. He just brushed her off. Maeve felt her heart sink.

______________________________________________________________

Maeve came in to the saloon with a blue ribbon pinned to her frilled shirt. She was still wearing the outfit her mother dressed her in. Cecilia got a lot of orders for ‘the Kimberly’ after the contest that she had to go to the shop with some customers. Mrs. McCourt only wanted the best for her own daughter. Everett wanted to keep his wife company so he went with her to the tailor's. Maeve approached the bar, Lou noticing the ribbon said, "Again? Ya won again? I'm not surprised," he gave her a glass of fine brandy. She downed it then set the glass on the counter, "You betcha! Not without a challenger this year. Meetin' him in a bit."

"You mean tall, dark and standin' in the corner?" Lou pointed with his thumb. Maeve saw John with his hat tipped down over his eyes and she said to Lou, "That's him! How do I look?"

"Ridiculous."

"As opposed to always!" Maeve twisted the corner of her lips down. Lou shrugged, "Ehhh," the girl took off her riverboat hat, "Hide that for me. Also two whiskeys," then made her way over to John. He looked up at her and smirked, "Howdy, winner."

"Howdy...number two...That doesn't sound great either," They chuckled as Maeve gave him his whiskey, "Cheers," he said when they drank. Using the same hand that was holding the small glass, John wiped the side of his lip.

"So, Mister Marston, since you are a wanderer, where you from originally?" Maeve asked him rolling her glass between her fingers.

"Oh you know, here and there."

She tilted her head, "Here and There? Never heard of it. Tell me more," her voice was sarcastic. John couldn't helped but be humored by her wit, "You're sharp."

"And you're an enigma. I think I like that," she went to lean against the wall. John got closer to her placing a hand by her head to lean on, "Really now? Not many people would."

"Only cause every other folk 'round these parts is borin' as all hell. 'Cept Lou," her voice raised a bit so the bartender can hear. He raised up the glass he was cleaning to acknowledge her.

John made a subtle frown, but kept meeting her stare, "You don't like a quite, borin' life?"

"You do?" Maeve countered. John made a face that read as not minding the idea, then nodded, "I could use one." The girl smiled with amusement then pushed herself off the wall, "Have mine then." John reached out to grab her wrist to stop her from going too far. He was gentle though as he said, "You got a good thing, Miss Milley. I wish I had it."

"What's yours like?" she asked noticing that John was still holding on to her. He shook his head, "You wouldn't like it."

"You better not be some rancher's son that I've never met before. I will shoot you," he grinned at that, thinking of how pretty she was when saying it. He leaned in to peck her lips and to Maeve's surprise had her eyes open. As he pulled away, John gazed, hoping Maeve wouldn't slap him.

She was looking down at her boots, her cheeks reddening at his eyes, "You definitely like to live dangerously," Maeve tried to not look at him again while biting her bottom lip, "Look it's not that I don't like you...I do. But you did say you were passin' through."

John leaned in a bit, "I haven't passed yet, have I?"

Maeve rolled her brown orbs, "But you will. That's my point," John loosened his hand so she can have her arm back, then Maeve started to walk away, "Have safe travels, Mister Marston. It was a pleasure meetin' you."

John watched her leave the saloon then went over to lean on the bar. Just as Lou came over to give him another whiskey, the bartender said, "She works here, ya know."

"Why you tellin' me?"

"Oh no reason. She's pretty, ain't she?" John stared at the man listening to what he was saying. Lou glanced at John, "You look like you can use a bath too."

"Excuse me?"

"Get one in the mornin', will ya?" he nodded his head towards the direction Maeve walked off. John then understood what he was trying to tell him.

______________________________________________________________

Mrs. Grimshaw had given Maeve a bed roll, "You can sleep next to all the other ladies we have here. Should be some space by Miss Jackson and Miss Jones." Maeve unrolled it on the ground then went to lay down on it. It was not very comfortable down there, rather lumpy beneath the fabric. The sun was starting to go down when she saw a couple men ride in, one of them covered in mud, and Maeve looked over to see if one of them was Arthur. Neither were, "When is Arthur coming back?" she asked the woman.

"Hm? Oh he usually runs off and does his own thing sometimes. Don't worry, he always comes back. Excuse me. Mister Williamson? Why are you covered up in filth like a pig?" Mrs. Grimshaw then stormed off to go talk to Mr. Williamson. Maeve watched the interaction, Mrs. Grimshaw was that maternal figure in the camp that had an order to things. With a smack of her hand upside the larger man's head he went over to wash up in the barrel of water. Susan rolled her eyes and shouted, "Don't ever come in to my camp like that again or I'll have you thrown into the closest river or lake!" This was a woman that ruled her world. Maeve admired that.

"She's a pleasure, ain't she?" a blonde, busty woman said while smoking a cigarette. Maeve nodded, "Been helpin' me get settled, so yes. I'd say so." The woman chuckled softly as if she knew what was to come. She flicked ash off her burning ember, "Just wait. She'll get real lovely in a matter of days. Name's Karen Jones."

Another woman that had been quiet while folding some clothes raised her hand, "Tilly Jackson," Maeve glanced at them both, "Maeve Milley." "You're that girl Arthur rescued. Gotta say, that's something. Gettin' shot I mean, Never been," Karen said, "Was it a robber?"

Maeve placed a hand over her bandaged wound. She did not wanna start crying again, so she kept her answers short, "Yeah..." Karen took a final drag of her cigarette, noticing her expression. She stole a glance from Tilly who was still folding her laundry, Tilly's eyebrows rose up, as a warning for Karen to tread carefully.

"The bullet went through you, so that makes you lucky," Karen said just as Maeve got up feeling overwhelmed. There was that word again, the one that was supposed to make her feel better but did no such thing, "I'm not lucky. Stop callin' me lucky because I certainly don't feel lucky!" Maeve shouted then had stormed off to get out of there. Karen threw her hands up to Tilly in a frustrated manner, "What's her deal?" "She watched her parents die in front of her," Tilly hissed out in a whisper. Karen whispered back, "No one told me! How was I supposed to know?"

Maeve was walking towards the edge of camp where the horses were kept, looking over them all she saw Liability among them eating some hay. Maeve went up to old bay mare to pet her white mane, "Hey girl...you seem to be gettin' along with these guys." The horse exhaled loudly then pressed her nose to the girl's hand. "I know...it's just us now," Maeve spoke softly before reaching into her saddle bag to take out a brush. Her horse should have been much dirtier than it was, being out here in the desert could make anyone dusty, "Who's been takin' care of you, girl?" Maeve asked as if she was gonna get an answer.

"Me," Maeve turned around to see John standing there with a bundle of hay. He tossed it down and stepped closer to Maeve while she continued to groom the mare, "That's funny...Liability doesn't really let strangers near her."

"I'm-."

"You're what? A stranger?" Maeve lashed out in questions, "Do I know you? Can't recall your name, Mister," her eyes were burning a hole into him. John's gaze at her was not amused, but he said, "You done? I was hoping we could have a word."

"Why? What was wrong with earlier that you had to call me crazy?" Maeve stopped brushing Liability, "What your friends here wouldn't think highly of me? Make fun of you for talking to me? Was I such a bad person to you that you have to lie about knowin' me?"

"No--It's--," he took a breath to step closer, "Look...I wasn't the most open when we were--"

"You sure as hell weren't. Made me pry for any information on you," Maeve interrupted. John glanced over to look to the camp, "I didn't tell you somethings because I just...at the time I was lookin' for a new start and I met you--."

Maeve watched John find difficulty in forming his sentence, but he was taking so long, "What are you tryin' to tell me, John? What didn't I know when we were--."

"I'm married...unofficially?" Maeve's mouth dropped as he continued, "And I have a kid, I think?" Maeve shook her head in confusion, "Are you married or not? Do you have a kid or not? It's not that hard to know!" As she was shouting, John tried to quiet her by placing his hands on her shoulder, "It's... complicated."

She winced her eyes at him, "It's always complicated with you. Jesus, you were runnin' away from them then weren't you?" John sighed out, "It's a long story if you wanna hear."

"I don't!" Maeve hitched Liability to a stable post, "I'd rather throw myself off a cliff instead of listenin’ to you try and explain all your shitty lies, John!"

"Not tellin' isn't lying!" John defended.

"It ain't any better, neither! Christ John! The entire time you were with me, you had a wife and kid at-- out here?" She stared at him expecting him to try and defend that, only he didn't. John simply said, "Yes."

"You're horrible."

John gave a single nod, "I know...I wasn't expecting to ever see you again," he admitted to her. Maeve scoffed out, "Excuse me for being a giant inconvenience for you and your marriage or whatever you have."

"Maeve, please...just," his hand was on her wrist, not in a rough way, "I need you to understand that what I had with you...It was-- I shouldn't have used you like that when you were nice to me," Maeve watched him closely, wondering what all of their time was. He then said, "I need you to not tell anyone about me and you...at least until I've told my-- until I've told Abigail."

"You want me to lie for you now?" Maeve said to him. John nodded, "I know it's askin' a lot, but please."

She glared at him with those big brown eyes, "Not like it will be hard...I never knew you at all," Maeve pulled away from him, "Mae..." he said with a breath. The girl shook her head, "You wanna be strangers? Fine...let's be strangers. Just stay the hell away from me."

Maeve walked back to camp as John watched her. It was better for her if they lied like this. It was better that John let her go. Still, it hurt him having to do this due to the fact he was still fond of her. _____________________________________________________________

She threw her hair in a bun while walking into the saloon, "Mornin' Lou," she greeted the bartender as he was moving stools around, "Mornin' Miss Milley. Got someone waitin' on ya."

Maeve’s face made a pouted expression, "I just walked in!" she complained. Lou smirking, shook his head, "And he just paid! So get your pompous arse up there and scrub him clean!" Maeve tossed her coat over the bar and stomped upstairs. When getting to the door, Maeve knocked, "Need some help in there?"

"Yeah," Maeve rolled her eyes not paying attention to the voice then opened the door. She was expecting to see a naked man in the tub but instead, Maeve saw a fully clothed one standing by the porcelain, "John?"

"Howdy," he greeted taking off his gloves. Maeve shut the door behind her and was rather surprised he was still around, "Thought you were passin' through?" her head tilted to the side as she sauntered forward. John gave her a small shrug, "I did mention I would stay if there's any reason to stick around."

The corners of her mouth raised a bit just as she was arms length away, "Am I a reason?" John took off his hat and nodded, "You are. Do you wanna be?" he moved closer being inches from her now. Maeve bit the side of her bottom lip before standing on her toes to kiss John. His arms wrapped around her waist to hold her up as they deepened the passionate kiss. Maeve's hands were on the side of his face as he stopped kissing for a moment, "That a yes?"

Maeve laughed out in glee, "You're horrible!"

"I know," John, smiling brightly, pressed his lips to hers again.

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan/oc #John Marston #john marston/oc #red dead redemption 2.#rdr2

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jflashandclash · 5 years

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Tales from Mount Othrys

Say “NO” to Cruise Ships

Note: I know the brothers’ names are confusing for this section. Don’t worry. Nicknames are a’coming. Someone needs to point out that it’s stupid first (one of my favorite someones in this book <3)

Axel’s heartbeat thundered so loud, he feared it would deafen him to any movement down the narrow hallway and ruin his focus on the sting of ocean air. Tainted ocean air, he thought. There was an uncomfortable scent to this ship. He could almost taste the presence of an ill omen, and he had only snuck aboard fifteen minutes ago.

The Glock 17 felt heavy in his hands. He kept the handgun pointed low, but ready. When he found his little brother’s note about running away, Axel didn’t have time to raid their father’s armory. He didn’t have access yet. Any requests would have inspired questions about why Axel wanted to be armed. He stole this one from a Miami-Dade county cop, near the port.

Now, despite Axel’s dislike for guns, he wished he had taken the family “picnics” to the gun range more seriously. If he fired and missed in this confined corridor, a stray bullet would rip through these thin walls. According to the cruise ship’s map, these rooms housed potentially innocent passengers.

They were empty.

Axel had never been on a cruise ship before—just dinky riverboats from his hometown—but all the advertisements on the ship showed mass amounts of people smiling and looking happy, like join us, and we’ll give you a free discount on stapling your lips into a grin!

There weren’t families talking about subpar buffet food or children fighting over who got the top bunk. The only sounds were the hysterical cries of a twelve-year-old boy and the laughter of his tormentors around a corner. From their shadows cast on the wall, he could tell Ajax, his little brother, was in trouble.

Axel had been expecting his little brother to be on the top deck, making friends, not dangling from one of his feet, held by someone much larger than him. Then again, Axel hadn’t been expecting to steal a speedboat or sneak aboard the Princess Andromeda. He had hoped, by “running away,” his little brother really meant, “sneak down the street to hide at the local arcade.”

“You ssssmell good enough to eat!” said a voice that should have belonged to cheesy cartoon snake. Axel had hoped he’d turn the corner to find a Disney actor dressed up like Kaa from The Jungle Book. When he beat them up, he’d just have to apologize to any observers that loved reptiles.

Another laughed alongside the first. “Chocolaty. Perfect for dessert.” There was a long sniff. “What kind of half-blood are you? How do we know you’re not a Greek spy?”

“M-M-My m-m-mom—she s-said that I should come here—it’d be safe—” his little brother babbled.

Axel clenched his jaw. As far as he was concerned, nothing good came from that woman except the little half-brother in that hall. And even then, Axel was going to personally whip Ajax when they got home and then ground him from eating Reese’s Sticks for a week.

“Safe!”

The two voices hissed out laughter, though the first one had a more difficult time with the word. Axel wondered if the person had some kind of speech impediment with s’s and if he was allowed to mock them by saying, “here to the ressscue” or if that would be rude.

“You—d-don’t want to eat m-me! I’m stringy! And I just had a full bowl of jalapeño peppers! I’ll be too spicy!”

In the shadow, Axel could see the person holding Ajax move his little brother’s body away in alarm.

This was his chance.

Axel stepped around the outer edges of the corner, coming into their line of sight. He aimed the gun directly at the person hefting Ajax.

“Drop—” Axel choked on “him.”

He expected the man to be tall from the shadow. Not eight feet tall with a furry chest so barreled, you could lay three of Axel’s siblings across and maybe have room for a fourth. Axel had only seen one other person with a snout, animalistic canines, claws, and paws; he knew now wasn’t the time to ask this man where he got the accessories.

“Axel!” Ajax cried in teary-eyed joy.

“Oh! A sssecond ssstowaway!” the other speaker hissed. It was a woman—well, half a woman. Her lower half sprouted a reptilian tail.

Both of them had deep bronze tans, close to Axel’s, though they looked more like they were from the southern Mediterranean or Northern Africa.

Axel had seen some weird stuff in his fourteen years. In the forests outside of their run-down, cramped shack, he’d seen monsters roaming the dense undergrowth and slurping about the rivers and cenotes. But nothing like these two: humanoid and capable of speech.

In punishment for letting Ajax get away, Axel wondered if his father had slipped him hallucinatory drugs and hired actors to show up in monstrous costumes to send him into a panic. Axel gritted his teeth. It wouldn’t have been the first time.

Neither seemed concerned by Axel’s weapon.

Actors would have been.

“Remember what Luke said, Agriussss.” The woman frowned. “We’re not supposed to eat them if they want to join. Remember Jack’sss morning meditation.”

Both closed their eyes, inhaled, and exhaled. “Our demigods are our friends,” they said in unison, “Not food. Unless they become Ol’Sissies. Then food.”

Hearing the snake-woman try the world ol’sissies was worthy of an Oscar. She was still “sssss”ing long after Agrius had reopened his eyes.

“I mean it,” Axel said, not liking how little attention the two paid him, like he wasn’t a threat. “Drop him, or I will shoot.”

“Did you just eat a bunch of jalapeño peppers?” the bear man asked.

Axel swallowed. That felt a little offensive, even if Ajax had said it first. The idea of eating jalapeno peppers grossed Axel out, but, with the straightest face he could manage, he said, “Yes. Now drop him.” Axel did not like the way this woman examined him or how Agrius licked his lips. It was more than creepy.

A nagging horror lurked along the edges of Axel’s conscious thought, whispering, It’s about to happen again. You’ll lose someone else you love. And you’ll be as useful as a jammed gun while you scream at them to stop.

The slit V that marked the sight on Axel’s gun trembled.

Axel wouldn’t be worthless this time.

His trigger finger shook too much.

The first bullet was an accident. Once Axel heard the sound, he discharged another three rounds into the bear man’s chest. That was too many wasted bullets on one opponent when there might be a whole cruise ship of aggressors.

Agrius had been holding Ajax off to one side, far enough that Axel could fire with confidence.

At the barrage of bullets, Ajax curled up, folding his body to he could reach Agrius’ arm and jam his fingers into the man’s tendons.

Agrius howled and dropped Axel’s little brother.

To Axel’s alarm, the scream had nothing to do with the bullets, just the tendons. Normally, someone might take a step back when shot, or react in some way. There were no bullet holes. No blood. Agrius didn’t even look at Axel; he glared at where Ajax had flipped to his feet.

From the line of bullet holes in the wall behind Agrius, the ballistics appeared to have gone through him.

Axel wondered if his father had drugged him after all.

Agrius grabbed at his sore arm. He scowled, rubbing the skin. “That hurt!” he roared.

The snake woman laughed uncontrollably.

Ajax sprinted towards Axel.

Agrius made a grab for Ajax’s raven hair. Seeming to sense the capture, Ajax ducked. He dodged under Axel’s elbow skidded to a halt behind Axel’s back.

Before the younger boy could press his face between Axel’s shoulder blades—as he often hid when bullies at their primary school realized the nuns weren’t paying attention and chose it as a prime time to attack—Axel shoved his little brother to run down the way Axel had come.

Axel could beat up school bullies for his little brother. Anthropomorphic bulletproof humanoids whose only apparent weakness was jalapeños and pressure points? Axel could take a rain check on that one.

Agrius released a second, enraged roar, sounding more like the snarl of a rabid animal. One thing was for sure: this guy needed some breath mints.

Axel pivoted to sprint down the other corridor, hoping Agrius wasn’t as fast as he was big. The mental map Axel had constructed of this ship said they’d have to make it down the full—

When Ajax stopped short, Axel almost impaled his diaphragm on the back of his brother’s head. Axel wanted to scream at him for stopping and, really, for running off in the first place, but the words choked on his lips.

There was a man standing in the hallway—not a man. Axel knew, from his sense of mounting dread, this was no mortal. As Axel tried to focus on the person’s features, they seemed to dematerialize, the ends of his long, black cloak vaporizing into smoke. The ground he stood upon appeared to shift, or was he vanishing and shifting locations?

The man’s eyes, the one thing that bore into Axel’s mind, were a piercing blue. Although Axel couldn’t describe the sharpness of his jaw or the color of his skin, he could tell the smile along those lips was endearing.

Like Ajax and I are his new playthings.

Agrius froze in his pursuit upon seeing this creature. His breath raged so heavily, Axel might ask if Agrius wanted an inhaler if Axel was in a position to tease.

“What’s this then?” the man asked.

Axel grabbed Ajax’s arm and dragged the younger boy behind him. Rapidly, he moved as far as he could from either party—into the corner.

Axel felt Ajax pressed his face between Axel’s shoulder blades. “I—I’m sorry. M-m-mom said it would be safe here—” His little brother sobbed, clutching at Axel’s shirt.

When Axel raised his fists into a defensive stance, they shook so violently, it was laughable. It was happening again. Not only did he feel small and helpless. He was. The bear man towered over him. The other one—that—that was a god.

His heartbeat thundered so loud again that he couldn’t hear his thoughts to calculate a plan out of this.

The unknown man took a slow step closer to them. When his foot contacted the floor, the rug seemed to ripple. Axel felt his heart rate decrease. He stumbled and his fists drooped down. Everything felt heavy. He shook his head to stay focused, terrified that he was losing what little control he had.

Ajax slumped into his back.

“Come now, we’re missing the main performance. Did you get the goods?” the god in the black jacket asked.

The snake-woman pulled a backpack off to reveal a variety of soda cans inside. Axel wondered if this was a drug running operation. He’d seen his father’s associates tuck contraband into the most unassuming of places.

“Ah, orange cream soda,” the man mused. He held a hand out, and one of the bottles flew straight to it.

The woman frowned. “Now, if you could jussssst do that, why did we have to get it for you?”

“So we could have enough to share. I mean, everyone on the whole ship might have passed out if I released that kind of power,” he said. His voice was warm and comforting, as was his wink. However, one of Axel’s father’s associates winked and smiled like that at Axel and his brothers. That associate liked to lock boys in his basement, according to rumors.

“They’re almost out of fodder to throw at the stage,” the god said. He shrugged. “Incompetent performers, but it looks like we might have two new ones, ready to prove themselves.”

Ajax jerked alert at those words, bumping his nose hard into Axel’s shoulder blade. He sniffled. “You want us to perform? We’re—we’re really good performers!”

The desperation in his voice made Axel want to slap him. Though, really, Axel wanted to ask prove ourselves to what or whom?

The man motioned for Axel and Ajax to follow him. Without checking to see if they did, he turned to walk down the corridor. “I’ll escort you to the techies.”

Axel wasn’t sure what was more daunting: following a god to an unknown stage or fighting off Bear Face.

Without questioning, Ajax darted after the god and scurried at his heels.

Axel glanced at the seething Agrius. “We’ll settle this later,” he told the bear man and raced after his brother.

Agrius snarled something under his breath.

“Thank you for getting us away from Winny the Pooh’s angry relative,” Ajax said. His sniffles decreased in correlation to the increased skip in his step. When Axel caught up, Ajax reached for Axel’s hand.

Axel swatted him away. “No soy Hiro,” he growled.[1]

With their littlest brother, Ajax could pretend he was holding Hiro’s hand because Hiro was scared. He couldn’t fake that with Axel. Axel needed both his hands in case they had a chance to escape the way he’d come. And, although Ajax looked way younger than twelve, barely reaching four feet and five inches when he stood at perfect posture, Axel knew his little brother was too old for that coddling.

“Oh, don’t thank me. I saved you from one losing battle and will be pitting you into a far worse one,” the god told them. His expression softened into pity. “Though, if you survive, you’re sure to find the safe home that your mother promised you.”

Ajax’s mouth dropped open. His hazel and brown eyes widened.

Axel could tell his little brother wanted to ask if this god knew his mother. Instead, he said, “B—but, you said it was just a performance.”

From the way the man gently set a hand on Ajax’s shoulder—roughly the size of Ajax’s shoulder—and the melancholy to those eyes, Axel understood this wasn’t the kind of performance they were originally thinking. And they weren’t going to make it off this boat by running.

***

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed :D Ah, tiny Axel that thinks he needs to prove himself to Agrius. I’m sure the thought of fighting Axel was unbearable to him. <3 Stay tuned next week to see the Pax brothers’ performance!

Oh! real question guys: Do you want me to label when we shift from book to book? I have context clues burred into the stories, but would you prefer something less subtle? I can invest in neon signposts. With glitter. And those fluttery, streamer dudes.anyway, let me know!

Footnote:

[1] “I’m not Hiro.”

#Tales from Mount Othrys #PJO #Percy Jackson and the Olympians #HOO #Heroes of Olympus #fanfiction #I actually got to sleep enough AND I got another chapter out today!#Don't worry--the energy will fade with the caffeine <3 Legit though-thank you chumolooks for getting my ass off the metaphorical couch

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batslime · 4 years

Photo

ok for this dumb little self insert comic i actually based the dress off this old piece of art ( furthest right ) that i HAVENT been able to source yet but I know it’s a little past the 1890s ( probably late 1900s-early 1910s ) but I’ve come to REALLY want to recreate it actually and now I can’t wait for the thrift store I frequent to reopen so I can absolutely ravage the shelves of old bedsheets for something teal and slightly satin-y that looks like I would wear on a fine evening on a riverboat in 1899

#in general id really like to recreate a lot of late 1800s/ early 1900s looks #i wish there was smt like a renaissance fair for this era : (#also i know the hair isnt really accurate to smt of the time but thats my hair length and how i like it best gimme a break #if half the men of the van der linde gang get to have a bob. so do i

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ericadownunderpart2 · 5 years

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Lady Douglas, bringer of adventures

Today was a day for exploring the town of Port Douglas, before I leave on Monday for Cairns. Today's activities included the Sunday Market, a riverboat tour and a hike along the coast.

I got up this morning at sunrise, which has been my daily routine. For those of you that know how much I am not a morning person, this is truly shocking and a bit concerning. My body appears to be confused by the extreme sunlight which makes me sun tired at about midday and by the early sunset at 6pm . Anyway, I am very cool and almost never manage to stay awake past 10pm and wake up at 6. I have a daily routine of getting coffee and sitting by the pool before heading out for the day.

The main street in pPort Douglas and my morning coffee spot

Lousy picture, great pool. At the hostel.

I cannot put into words how much o will miss Port Douglas and the laid back way of life here. I'm not particularly good at being totally relaxed, so this is heaven.

Fun Facts about Port Douglas, for most of its history it was nothing more than a small fishing village. In the 1870s gold was discovered in a nearby river, starting one of the gold rushes of Northern Queensland. In the 1980s, a five star resort was built here and it has been a booming resort town.

Anyway, after morning coffee I headed to the Port Douglas Sunday Market with stalls from local vendors, artists, farmers, etc.

After spending most of the morning there I got lunch and headed to the marina to catch my mini riverboat. We headed out to the Dickson Inlet, a river flowing from the ocean, lined with mangrove forests.

You will not be surprised to know that this beautiful place is crawling with deadly things. This is another hotspot for crocodiles. As if one run-in isn’t enough, after on ly about 10 minutes on the water, we see a crocodile sunning himself along the shore. Don’t worry, his mouth isn’t open because he just consumed a boat passenger...he is regulating his heat by “panting” which looks disturbingly like “about to punce-ing” I’m gonna put this guy at about 10 feet.

It was a really amzing thing to see.

As per usual, on the tour I found afamily to adopt me. I met two women from the Victoria province and their kids and we all went out at the marina after the riverboat festivities. I think stranger danger is actually pretty great! (it helps that I am a grown up,mostly)

Sisters Kelly & Michelle and their collective kids.

The next stop was to take an evening hike on the Flagstaff Hill Trail along the coast of the city. It iactually a huge peninsula and you can hike the whole parameter. (The trail used to be a bit deadly as there were frequent mudslides in the rainy season. Mudslides on steer cliffs = bad, so they recently fixed it an reopened the trail. Everyday I am alive in this place is a miracle.) I got a recommendation to do the hike at sunset for the most stunning views. They were right. Stunning. Here are some amazing pics of the trail and view.

Wicked stairs.

Cool art installation along the trail

The lookout. They call it “walking the plank.”

Great way to spend my final evening in Port Douglas. Next stop: Cairns. It will probably be a few days before I post again. Monday is white water rafting on the Barron River. There will be a delay in getting photos back from that and then Tuesday & Wednesday are the overnight boat trip out on the Barrier Reef. I will post when I return.

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gunslots74 · 3 years

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The casino opened on May 27, 1994, then owned by Station Casinos under the name Station Casino St. Charles. It was one of the first two riverboat casinos in the state, and originally offered 24,500 square feet of gaming space with 52 blackjack and craps tables and 813 video poker machines. Due to regulations of that time, admission fees were charged, and gambling sessions were restricted to two-hour cruises with a $500 maximum loss per session.(3) In late 1994, the casino was moved to a new boat, the Station Casino Belle. Cruising was required until 1996, when a change in regulations allowed riverboat casinos in Missouri to be permanently moored. For some time, two casinos were actually operating, one on the boat and another on a barge, until 1999, when the entire casino was consolidated to a barge, partially due to a regulation change which eliminated boarding restrictions.(4) In October 2000, Station Casinos sold its Missouri properties, also including Station Casino Kansas City in the deal to Ameristar Casinos. In 2008, a major expansion of the property included a hotel, pool, and spa.(5) In 2013, Ameristar Casinos was acquired by the now defunct Pinnacle Entertainment. Pinnacle Entertainment was acquired by Penn National Gaming in 2018, but it chose to sell 4 of Pinnacle's properties, Ameristar Casino Kansas City, Belterra Casino Resort & Spa, Belterra Park and Ameristar St. Charles to Boyd Gaming to ensure regulatory approval. Many experts see a trend in casino consolidation, especially in markets such as Missouri, as a means of cutting costs.(6)

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^'Ameristar Casino reopens today with increased sanitation efforts'. KMOV.com. Retrieved 2020-06-01.

^'Tourism- St Charles'(PDF). Placewise Digital.

^https://www.chicagotribune.com/news/ct-xpm-1994-07-17-9407170088-story.html

^https://lasvegassun.com/news/1999/nov/04/station-casino-st-charles-closes-riverboat-to-expa/

^https://www.bestuscasinos.org/review/ameristar-st-charles/

^https://www.stltoday.com/business/local/shuffling-the-deck-billion-deal-will-change-ownership-of-several/article_493e8fdd-3fca-5411-9da1-bf2fbd3ba996.html