#Wade Goodall
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CAPTAIN FIN CO. WADE GOODALL M 3FIN. FIBERGLASS 13,300YEN＋TAX TIMMY PATTERSON M 3FIN. HONEYCOMB 11,700YEN＋TAX @captainfinco @wadegoodall @tpattersonsurfboards フリーサーファーでありアーティストでもあるウェイド・グッドオールのシグネチャーフィンはしっかりと硬さのあるオールグラスフィン。 とてもレスポンシブで、少しだけ小さめのバックフィンのおかげで機能します。 カリフォルニアを代表するシェープデザイナーであるティミー・パターソンのフィンセットはオンフィン全盛期のオリジナル・テンプレートにトーションの良いハニカムコアが採用されています。 どちらも大きめのMサイズでMLサイズに相当しますが波のサイズにコンディションを選ばずスムーズかつ安定して気持ち良く機能するフィンデザインで私自身も気に入っています。 シンプルでクリーンなルックスも良い感じです。 この価格バランスもとても魅力的です。 お客様によってお好みが違うことは良く理解しています。 全ての製品を実際に使用してリサーチした上で製品説明させていただいています。 気になる方はお気軽にお問い合わせください。 #captainfinco #seaofjapan #japansea #niigata #nagaoka #freedomstateofmind #freedomsurfco (フリーダム サーフカンパニー) https://www.instagram.com/p/CnYw6mZPo0K/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
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Co się dzisiaj działo? #144 11.06.2022
Powrót po czasie, daily i tak długo przetrwało, ale wracam do regularności
NBA, finał: Celtics-Warriors 97:107 (2:2 w serii)
Criterium du Dauphine, 7 etap:
75. Łukasz Owsian (74 w generalce)
117. Kamil Gradek (130 w generalce)
mecz testowy, dzień 2: Anglia (90/1, Oliver Pope 51*, James Anderson 3/62)- Nowa Zelandia (553, Daryl Mitchell 190, Trent Boult 1/18)
UEFA Nations League: Holandia-Polska 2:2
III Liga:
Polonia Warszawa-Legionovia 3:2
Kotwica Kołobrzeg-KP Starogard 3:0
Olimpia Grudziądz-Stolem Gniewino 7:1
Zawisza Bydgoszcz-Bałtyk Gdynia 4:1
Turniej ITF w Bytomiu: Szymon Kielan-Timo Stodder 3:6 2:6
FIVB Liga Narodów: Polska-Bułgaria 0:3
PDC Nordic Darts Masters
ćwiercfinał
Gerwyn Price-Dimitri Van den Bergh 5:10
Michael Smith-Fallon Sherrock 10:6
Michael van Gerwen-James Wade 4:10
Peter Wright-Gary Anderson 4:10
półfinał
Dimitri Van den Bergh-Michael Smith 11:4
James Wade-Gary Anderson 7:11
finał
Dimitri Van den Bergh-Gary Anderson 11:5
mecz Twenty20:
Afganistan (160/4, Hazratullah Zazai 45, Nijat Masood 3/39) pokonał Zimbabwe (159/8, Sikandar Raza 45, Ryan Burl 3/14) 6 wicketami
Sri Lanka (177/6, Dasun Shanaka 54*, Maheesh Theekshana 2/25) pokonała Australię (176/5, David Warner 39, Marcus Stoinis 2/8) 4 wicketami
ICC World Cricket League 2: USA (274/6, Steven Taylor 114, Rusty Theron 4/56) zremisowało z Nepalem (274, Rohit Paudel 62, Mohammad Aadil Alam 3/45)
mecz jednodniowy kobiet: RPA (70/1, Lara Goodall 32*, Sune Luus 3/16) pokonała Irlandię (69, Georgina Dempsey 19* & 1/20) 9 wicketami
Euro Winners Cup w beach soccerze: BSC Husty-Boca Gdańsk 0:3 walkower
MLB: Braves-Pirates 10:4 (24-33)
Champions Cup w baseballu, mecz o 3 miejsce: San Marino-Bonn 3:6
Ekstraliga Rugby:
Skra Warszawa-Lechia Gdańsk 55:26
Ogniwo Sopot-Arka Gdynia 13:26
WSBK, GP San Marino: 14. Luca Bernardi
Mistrzostwa Świata w siatkówce plażowej:
Piotr Kantor/Michał Rudol-Robin Seidl/Philipp Waller 15-21 14-21
Michał Bryl/Bartosz Łosiak-Sam Schachter/Daniel Dearing 25-23 21-19
Mistrzostwa Europy U22 kobiet w siatkówce plażowej:
Maja Kruczek/Julia Kielak-Lynn van Mill/Jill Weeda 21-19 18-21 17-19
AMP Futbol Cup:
Polska-Tanzania 6:2
Polska-Maroko 3:1
Mistrzostwa Europy w blind footballu: Polska-Anglia 0:5
98. PZLA Mistrzostwa Polski w Suwałkach, dzień 3:
skok wzwyż mężczyzn:
Mateusz Kołodziejski (Zawisza Bydgoszcz) 2.21 m
2. Mikołaj Szczęsny (MKLA Łęczyca) 2.12 m
3. Sebastian Moszczyński (Podlasie Białystok) 2.12 m
7. Kewin Małek (AML Słupsk) 2.02 m
9. Jakub Nielub (AML Słupsk) 2.02 m
rzut oszczepem mężczyzn
Marcin Krukowski (Warszawianka Warszawa) 80.44 m
2. Eryk Kołodziejczak (Start Nakło) 78.22 m
3. Piotr Lebioda (Hańcza Suwałki) 78.01 m
skok w dal kobiet
Roksana Jędraszak (AZS Poznań) 6.42 m
2. Anna Matuszewicz (MKL Toruń) 6.40 m
3. Anna Rugowska (WLKS Wrocław) 6.25 m
110 metrów przez płotki mężczyzn
Damian Czykier (Podlasie Białystok) 13.25 s (Rekord Polski)
2. Jakub Szymański (SKLA Sopot) 13.50 s
3. Jakub Bujak (AZS Politechniki Opolskiej Opole) 13.96 s
rzut oszczepem kobiet
Maria Andrejczyk (Hańcza Suwałki) 57.53 m
2. Karolina Bołdysz (AWFiS Gdańsk) 55.23 m
3. Klaudia Regin (Jantar Ustka) 53.78 m
4. Marta Kąkol (AWFiS Gdańsk) 50.84 m
6. Natalia Mądrzejewska (AWFiS Gdańsk) 48.95 m
7. Paulina Ligarska (SKLA Sopot) 48.33 m
10. Natalia Jasińska (AWFiS Gdańsk) 39.94 m
pchnięcie kulą mężczyzn
Michał Haratyk (Sprint Bielsko-Biała) 21.17 m
2. Konrad Bukowiecki (UWM Olsztyn) 20.30 m
3. Jakub Szyszkowski (AWF Katowice) 19.89 m
100 metrów przez płotki kobiet
Pia Skrzyszowska (AWF Warszawa) 12.62 s
2. Klaudia Siciarz (AWF Kraków) 12.90 s
3. Klaudia Wojtunik (AZS Łódź) 13.05 s
200 metrów mężczyzn
Łukasz Żok (AJP Gorzów Wlkp.) 20.66 s
2. Patryk Wykrota (Stal Ostrów Wlkp.) 20.90 s
3. Przemysław Kozłowski (AWF Katowice) 21.24 s
200 metrów kobiet
Martyna Kotwiła (RLTL Radom) 22.94 s
2. Nikola Horowska (AJP Gorzów) 22.99 s
3. Marika Popowicz-Drapała (Zawisza Bydgoszcz) 22.99 s
800 metrów kobiet
Anna Wielgosz (Resovia Rzeszów) 2:03.08 s
2. Margarita Koczanowa (AWF Kraków) 2:04.03 s
3. Adrianna Czapla (UMCS Lublin) 2:04.10 s
12. Monika Pietroń (SKLA Sopot) 2:13.27 s
800 metrów mężczyzn
Patryk Dobek (MKL Szczecin) 1:53.50 s
2. Mateusz Borkowski (RKS Łódź) 1:53.52 s
3. Kacper Lewalski (UWM Olsztyn) 1:54.16 s
sztafeta 4x400 metrów mężczyzn
AZS Poznań (Jan Wawrzkowicz, Mikołaj Buzała, Ryszard Piasecki, Tymoteusz Zimny) 3:09.24 s
2. AWF Katowice (Michał Wróbel, Jacek Majewski, Jakub Pająk, Adam Paździerz) 3:10.14 s
3. UMCS Lublin (Krzysztof Hołub, Cezary Mirosław, Oskar Gołębiowski, Maciej Hołub) 3:10.49 s
sztafeta 4x400 metrów kobiet
UMCS Lublin (Alicja Wrona, Wiktoria Drozd, Adrianna Janowicz-Półtorak, Małgorzata Hołub-Kowalik) 3:34.73 s
2. AWF Warszawa (Weronika Bartnowska, Karolina Łozowska, Anna Maria Gryć, Dominika Baćmaga) 3:35.64 s
3. AWF Kraków (Katarzyna Martyna, Aleksandra Wsołek, Margarita Koczanowa, Aleksandra Gaworska) 3:40.21 s
5000 metrów mężczyzn
Patryk Kozłowski (RLTL Radom) 14:20.31 s
2. Mateusz Gos (RLTL Radom) 14:21.04 s
3. Aleksander Wiącek (Start Otwock) 14:21.58 s
5000 metrów kobiet
Angelika Mach (UMCS Lublin) 15:57.99 s
2. Beata Topka (Talex Borzytuchom) 15:59.58 s
3. Renata Pliś (Maraton Świnoujście) 16:05.21 s
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Vans x Wade Goodall Destruct SF
#Vans#Wade Goodall#Vans Destruct#Destruct#Off The Wall#Vans Off The Wall#World Famous#2021#Vans Style#Other#Vans Classic#Vans Classics#Yellow#Vans Sneaker#Sneaker#Sneakers#Vans Sneakers
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(via https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_pgqW2M6ycE)
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Vans x Wade Goodall Sk8-Hi 138 Decon SF https://www.sneakerscartel.com/vans-x-wade-goodall-sk8-hi-138-decon-sf/
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Edward Enninful On Why The Duchess Of Sussex Is The Ultimate Force For Change.
It began with an email received in the chilly depths of January. I was spending a few days in the Austrian mountains when a message arrived in my inbox out of the blue. The sender went by the simplest of monikers – “M” – and for a second I was confused, wondering who this mysterious, one-lettered correspondent could possibly be. I couldn’t have known then how the answer to this question would come to define an extraordinary few months in the life of this magazine, or that it would lead to HRH The Duchess of Sussex becoming the first person ever to guest edit a September issue of British Vogue.
Anyone who knows me, or has read this title since I became its editor two years ago, will already appreciate that the Duchess is a woman for whom I have a deep and profound respect. Since she first began to navigate the waters of the British establishment, I, like so many in this country, have found her to be an inspirational woman of action. From her hands-on approach to transforming women’s lives at Smart Works (which she writes about in this issue), to the variety of her broader charity commitments, she bears all the hallmarks of a true activist. And then there is the gently modernising manner in which she has approached her new role at the centre of Britain’s public life. From negotiating first-time motherhood within an ancient institution to changing how we frame the conversation around women who face rabid media interest, her positive influence is everywhere.
On a personal note, I can’t overstate how much it meant to me to see HRH The Duke of Sussexmarry this brilliant, bi-racial, American powerhouse. I simply never imagined that, in my lifetime, someone of my colour would – or could – enter the highest echelons of our Royal Family. On her wedding day, as she rode to St George’s Chapel at Windsor, with her mother, Doria, by her side, to marry the man of her dreams, it was clear that the world was witnessing something incredibly powerful. It went beyond diversity, beyond inclusivity, into humanity. It was pure love.
Yet all of these thoughts were ones I’d had from afar. We’d never actually met. Then, on that fateful day in January, the “M” email pinged into my life. In a tone that I would come to recognise as her calling card, the message was warm, purposeful and to the point: she believed we would have lots in common and would I like to meet up?
Of course, I was more than a little nervous when, a week later, I headed to meet the Duchess for tea in central London. She was entering the final months of her pregnancy and was utterly radiant in a navy tailored coat. She was also full of ideas. What struck me most was her remarkable immediacy. You have all these preconceptions about what a Duchess will be like, but Her Royal Highness simply gave me a hug and said: “I’m Meghan.” We made an instant connection – straightaway, our perspectives on work made us feel so naturally synced – and we started discussing her projects with Smart Works and how the magazine might be able to support them. I left feeling inspired and ready to help in any way that I could.
Then I got a text message. Would I, the Duchess asked, ever so politely, consider co-editing a special issue of Vogue with her, to highlight all the brilliant female changemakers who have made a laudable impact in recent times, and who are set to re-shape society in radical and positive ways in the future? From activists to artists, prime ministers to climate change campaigners, we would gather faces from the front lines of fashion, film, technology, wellness and beyond to celebrate a special moment in time – and to ask the question: “What’s next?”
I didn’t have to think: I knew the answer was yes. “We could call it Forces for Change,” I said, and the adventure began. And, boy, was it an adventure. From the outset, I discovered someone with a real editor’s mind, who knew how to align what she wanted to say with everything we stand for here at British Vogue. When I first showed her layouts of how some early features might look… Well, she just got it. From ideas and the flatplan, to selecting and commissioning writers and photographers, it was a process she instantly understood.
The Duchess introduces her extraordinary work in her own words in her guest editor’s letter, but you will find evidence of her influence everywhere: from interviewing Michelle Obama, to spotlighting her charity Smart Works, and penning an introduction to a favourite poem – Matt Haig’s "A note from the beach". She also happens to have commissioned her husband, Prince Harry, to interview the indomitable Jane Goodall in a fascinating piece that shows how we can all look after our world better.
Throughout all this, I have been struck by the Duchess’s sincerity and her daring. Like all working members of the Royal Family, she proves her mettle as a philanthropist on a daily basis, and regularly turns her attention to those less fortunate. But, as you will see from her selections throughout the September issue, she is also willing to wade into more complex and nuanced areas, whether they concern female empowerment, mental health, race or privilege. From the very beginning, we talked about the cover – whether she would be on it or not. In the end, she felt that it would be in some ways a “boastful” thing to do for this particular project. She wanted, instead, to focus on women she admires.
There have been so many special moments in the process. I will never forget visits to Kensington Palace with my team from Vogue in the last cold days of winter, or our emoji-filled text conversations as spring arrived bringing new life (in this case quite literally, as the Duchess gave birth to her son, Archie) and re-focusing all of our minds on the important job at hand.
2019 marks a fundamental moment of societal change, a tipping point that I believe we will re-examine in years to come. To have the country’s most influential beacon of change guest edit Vogueat this time has been an honour, a pleasure and a wonderful surprise. When you only know someone by their public persona, all too often you find yourself disappointed by the reality. But, once in a while, someone comes along who exceeds all of your expectations. Let me say this for The Duchess of Sussex: she is the real deal – and an ultimate force for change.
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So, I accidentally found my way into the Narnia fandom, and, as I have a tendancy to do, immediately started thinking about making a next gen. Of course, I had to make up love interests for them, and I wound up stealing people/families/my own next gen OCs from my other favourite fandoms of the time; Peter Pan, Alice in Wonderland, and Pride and Prejudice.
So have a bunch of silly little meetcutes I came up with in the middle of the night for the Pevensies and their love interests. (There’s also non-specific references to Lucy/Tumnus in this, just in case that’s a NoTP for anyone)
(Aaand credit to The Stone Gryphon and One Promise Kept for some of my ideas regarding Susan and Edmund’s love interests)
A lot of the boys at Peter’s school had taken badly to the fact that there would be girls at their school this year. Peter had gotten into more than a few fist fights over it, but he wasn’t a King here, he wasn’t even a soldier here, he was just that uppity Pevensie boy, and no one much cared that he thought they were all being petty arseholes.
So he wasn’t surprised to go back for the new term and find the place a seething mass of confusion and tension. The girls who’d transferred in were all variations of stiff or shy or stubborn, and the boys were generally being arrogant, territorial little bastards. Peter took a deep breath, and resigned himself to wading through bullshit for the foreseeable future. He did his best to be courteous to the girls, putting more effort in than he normally might, considering they were likely to see so very little kindness here.
“Well if it isn’t Little Miss Know-It-All!” He heard a voice jeering in a lull in the noise of the hallway, and stopped, turning to try and pinpoint the altercation. “You might be the teacher’s new pet, but do you really think you can keep up in a boys school?”
There. Peter spotted two boys from his own year – Johnson and Oldershaw – boxing in one of the girls. Peter recognised her from one of his classes, but he didn’t know her name. He’d thought she was kind of shy before, but now he could see that there was fire in her eyes as she glared up at the two boys.
“Why not?” She demanded, chin lifted proudly, and Peter grinned, steps slowing. Maybe she didn’t need rescuing after all. Still, he wasn’t going to leave until he was certain, so he slid out of the way of the traffic, and propped his shoulder against the wall to observe.
Oldershaw laughed mockingly, and the girl bristled. Johnson sneered. “Because reading a few books might’ve been enough for a girl school, but this isn’t some prissy little finishing school, girlie.” Johnson laughed now, too. “There’s no way a pretty little mouse like you will be able to keep up on the pitch. Can you imagine her trying to box?” He sneered, and reached out to give the girl’s shoulder a shove.
Indignation drove Peter upright again, because it was one thing to sling words about, but if Johnson was going to start beating up on a girl just to soothe his own ego, Peter was going to pummel him.
The girl got there first.
It was so fast Peter would have missed it if he didn’t have over a decade of experience with the lightning-quick chaos of a battlefield. The girl’s fist snapped out and met Johnson’s jaw, sending him reeling with a yelp. Then she stomped on Oldershaw’s foot when he yelped an indignant insult, elbowed him in the solar plexus, and then headbutted Johnson in the face before he could do more than snarl about the bruise on his jaw.
“I might not have been taught how to box, but that doesn’t mean I can’t dump you on your arse when you’re asking for it!” The girl snapped, and in that moment she reminded Peter painfully of some of the falcons in Narnia’s aerial corps. “I’ve spent a long time around boys a lot tougher than you. You’re not that scary.”
“Why you little-!” Johnson barked, face red with mortification and fury. Several people had stopped to gawk when the violence erupted, and he had to be feeling the eyes on him, the audience to his humiliation. Peter had seen it before, proud lords and generals refusing to back down when they were beaten, refusing to show valour in the face of defeat, wasting the lives of good soldiers for their pride in a vain attempt to prove something that wasn’t even real.
Peter grabbed him by the shoulder before he could lunge. “That’s enough, Johnson. Are you really going to sink so low as to hit a lady?” He demanded, using his High King voice, and infusing it with as much disappointment as he could.
“No lady hits like that.” Johnson protested, but it was bitter and sullen, rather than enraged. There was blood dripping out of his nose, and it only accentuated the pouty expression on his face.
Peter grinned cheerfully, and clapped him on the shoulder. “Then she’ll fit right in here, won’t she?” He asked pointedly and Johnson scowled at being caught out like that. “Best go see the nurse about your nose. Why don’t you see him there, Oldershaw?” Peter commanded.
With a bit more grumbling, they went. The girl eyed them warily until they were out of sight, and then turned her suspicious scowl on Peter. “Thanks.” She said, not gracefully, but sincerely.
Peter’s grin became a genuine smile. “You had them handled perfectly well.” He assured her. “I just don’t think you’d like to get in trouble for brawling on your first day.”
The girl snorted and shrugged, then stuck out her hand with almost aggressive assertiveness. “Jane Goodall-Darling.” She introduced.
Peter shook her hand. “Peter Pevensie. Nice to meet you.”
Jane’s eyebrows flew up, and she tipped her head to eye him with suspicion again. “Peter, huh?” She asked, with a level of meaning layered underneath that caught Peter by surprise, and grabbed his attention in a vice. It was exactly the same sort of tone that he or any of his siblings might use when asking ‘a lion, huh?’ or some variation thereof. So he just nodded slowly, and waited to see what she’d make of it. “What’s your opinion on growing up?” Jane eventually asked.
Peter had been expecting something a little weird, but that was such an odd question, it took him a moment to process, and another moment to decide how on earth to answer. In the end, on nothing more than the strange certainty that there was something a bit Narnian about the question, he answered with the truth. “Looking forward to it.” He admitted wryly. And when Jane’s eyebrows popped up again, he shrugged. “I can’t wait to catch up with myself.” He explained, without really explaining.
But Jane obviously caught the same sense of more that he had, because after a single beat of surprise, she grinned. “You’ll do.” She decided, and linked her arm through Peter’s. “Escort a lady to class?” She asked him with an air of playful superiority.
Peter inclined his head with all the gravity of a king. “It would be my honour, Lady Jane.”
Jane gave a very inelegant snort, but played along, and let him guide her down the hall towards their next class. “Yes, it would.”
Susan shouldn’t be here, she knew she shouldn’t, but she didn’t care. A little make-up, and she could look almost twenty with ease, and no one questioned whether she was old enough to be in the pubs and dance halls. It was as close as she could get to feeling like an adult again, so she would take it. It was nothing like the parties and balls and festivals she’d attended and hosted in Narnia, but the energy was the same, joy and romance and community, all touched with a hint of wildness. In Narnia, it had been a gleeful sort of wildness, but here it was touched with desperation.
The bar she’d chosen tonight was, as always, full of soldiers on leave or injured or about to be shipped out. All of the women who ventured in were showered in attention and offers to buy drinks, and Susan was no exception. She politely declined the offers, and bought her own drink. It wasn’t because she didn’t appreciate the offers, or because she wasn’t interested in flirting with some of the soldiers. It was just that she missed her independence so much, and this was her attempt to reclaim a shadow of it.
She sipped her drink and chatted idly with one of the other women – who had accepted the offer of a drink, and probably more, going by the arm her soldier had around her waist – enjoying being treated like a sensible adult for once. She debated buying a second drink as she finished the first, but before she could make up her mind, a new drink identical to her first was placed in front of her. She gave the woman behind the bar a wary look. “I didn’t order another one.” She pointed out.
“It’s from the gentleman over there.” The woman said with a nod towards a man in civilian clothes, but with the bearing of a soldier, sitting at a table not too far from Susan’s place at the bar. He was dark-haired and handsome, and flashed her a roguish grin when he caught her stare. Susan injected a touch of Queenly Disdain into her look, and twitched one eyebrow up in scathing question.
The grin became more sheepish than debonair, and he slipped out of his chair to wander over and lean on the bar beside her. “Saw you turning down all those offers of drinks and figured I’d be smart about it and ask forgiveness instead of permission.” He pointed out, and Susan was intrigued to note the muted American accent colouring his words.
There was a long pause as they each waited for the other to speak. “Well?” Susan prompted, when it became clear that the man wasn’t going to continue.
He looked confused for a beat, and then laughed as understanding dawned clasping his hands together before his chin as if in prayer. “Please forgive me for tricking you into getting a free drink?” He pleaded.
“Hmm…” Susan mused thoughtfully, eyeing him. “No.” She decided, and he gasped and clapped a hand to his chest like she’d shot him. “If you want my forgiveness you’re going to have to earn it.”
“And just what might the forgiveness of such a proud lady cost a poor lowly soldier like me?” He teased, pulling an exaggerated expression of woe. It didn’t suit his face at all.
“An evening of decent company and at least one more drink.” Susan declared, and felt a surprising little burst of pride when what appeared to be genuine delight lit up his face. He straightened up and offered her his arm, nodding towards the table he’d claimed, since there wasn’t room for him to join her at the bar. Susan snagged her drink and took a sip, letting him wait there with his arm out for a long moment before she accepted it.
He pulled out her chair for her like a proper gentleman, and sat opposite her in a casual sprawl that was significantly less gentlemanly. “Oh, where are my manners?” He asked suddenly, sitting a little straighter. “Sergeant Jack Manchester, at your service, my lady.”
Susan extended her hand to him, daring him to do anything other than shake it properly with her gaze alone. “Susan.” She replied as he obliged, grip firm but eyes bright with humour. No last name, because if anyone – like an overly charming American soldier – asked after a Susan Pevensie, they would find a fifteen year old girl, not the woman she was pretending to be. Not the woman she actually was.
“Just Susan?” Sergeant Manchester asked, not quite whining, not quite pouting, but with too-soulful eyes and a plaintive, teasing lilt to his voice.
Susan couldn’t help it. “Gentle Susan.” She corrected, even though it was stupid, he wouldn’t get the humour of it, it would only confuse him and make her seem odd. She could have cursed herself the moment it left her lips, because she’d been having so much fun not-quite-flirting with this man, and now he was going to think her strange.
Only, instead of judgement, a look of thoughtful curiosity flashed across the Sergeant’s face. “Gentle as in kind? Gentle as in light of touch? Or Gentle as in noble?" He questioned, playing along despite the apparently ridiculous turn to the conversation.
“Yes.” Susan replied, feeling her heart stutter once in disbelieving hope.
Sergeant Manchester – Jack – gave her a slow, easy, approving smile, eyebrows raised in delighted incredulity. “Gentle Susan.” He repeated, like he was trying out the taste of it. “Queen Susan.”
Susan’s breath caught. “Queen?” She echoed, barely hearing herself. He couldn’t possibly know, could he? It wasn’t possible, except, of course, that she and her siblings had stumbled their way into Narnia through some old wardrobe. Whose to say there weren’t other doors to Narnia out there, for other people to trip through?
“My very own White Queen.” Jack confirmed, which was like a bucket of ice-water down Susan’s spine. No. He didn’t know, or he would not compare her to that awful creature. He caught her grimace before she could tuck it away and be tactful, and his eyebrows knotted together in apologetic concern. “No?” He questioned.
Jack looked like a puppy when he did that, Susan couldn’t help but think. “White isn’t exactly my colour.” She replied, managing a touch of teasing to match his from before.
It seemed to work, because he brightened immediately. “No, I can see that.” He agreed. “Not red, either, though.” He pointed out, and Susan tipped her head in agreement, although she wondered at the way he phrased it. Most people wouldn’t set white and red as opposites that way, but then, she mused, most people wouldn’t hear ‘gentle’ and jump straight to ‘queen’ either. “Green?” He wondered, but Susan shook her head. She had worn green, sometimes, while she was in Narnia, but it certainly hadn’t been her favourite.
“I’ve always been partial to purple.” She informed him.
“The royal colour, of course.” Jack agreed, shaking his head at himself like he thought it was silly he hadn’t guessed. “You would look absolutely stunning in purple, my queen.” He teased.
Susan had kind of missed being called that. It was silly, but so many people she’d cared about – people long dead, now – had called her that day in and day out that it was both a comforting familiar and a bittersweet reminder. And it was equally silly to think that such a small, simple thing could make her want to keep Jack forever, but she couldn’t help it.
She probably wouldn’t see him again after tonight, and he might be dead within the year, but she could let herself pretend just for the evening. “I do.” She agreed lightly, making him laugh, and then drained the last of her drink. “And now, I believe you still owe me a drink, Sergeant.”
“As my queen commands.” Jack announced dramatically, and this time, Susan let herself laugh at the small joy of being seen, in some small way, for who she truly was.
Edmund honestly had no idea how they’d ended up getting dragged to someone else’s Sunday roast, but he figured any bloke who was so besotted with Susan that he genuinely couldn’t wait to introduce her to his family, even after the nasty shock of finding out just how old she actually was, physically, was probably a decent prospect for his sister. Peter clearly didn’t agree, and kept giving Jack wary, judgemental stares. To his credit, Jack wasn’t letting them touch him. He continued to tease and joke with Susan, coaxing out the brighter, gentler side of her that Edmund had worried she’d lost on their return to this world.
The house was a large one, just as impressive as Professor Kirke’s old manor, and it was a good thing, too, because there were so many people there that anything smaller would have burst at the seams. Edmund had to flex diplomatic skills he’d almost forgotten in order to remember everyone’s names, and there was so much colour and chaos and strangeness that it felt like a little piece of home. The only thing missing was a few talking animals.
It was too easy, and yet strangely jarring, to slip into the role of King Edmund the Just, to move about the simple family gathering like it was a diplomatic function with the rulers and sovereigns of neighbouring lands, and he found himself pulling together a map in his mind. Jack’s father was Lord Manchester, originally of England but now living with his wife in America. Jack’s father’s half-bother was Victor Ascot, Esquire, who only had one daughter and was planning to pass his estate to his sister’s eldest son, Odhran Kavanaugh.
The Kavanaugh clan were easy to spot, because they were, to a one, violently ginger and freckled. Then there was Mrs Kingsley, their heavily pregnant hostess and her widowed mother who lapsed into Mandarin whenever she was annoyed. Edmund was intrigued – and delighted – to learn that Mrs Kingsley – Lynn, as she insisted he call her – was, in fact, the master of the Kingsley estate, not her husband.
It was around that point in the conversation that Edmund spotted Lucy slipping away upstairs, and followed her. He found her hiding in a spare room, cluttered with old junk. An age-spotted mirror, an old but still serviceable loom, a large chest of drawers, a very fancy old divan, and several scattered collections of oddities like kaleidoscopes, cards – some of which appeared to have been nibbled – chess sets, and tea cups. A bowl of pot-pourri on top of the chest of drawers made the whole room smell like an orchard, although not one Edmund could pinpoint. Maybe cherries?
His sister was sitting on the divan, clutching her stomach like she was about to throw up and gasping like she was trying very hard not to cry. Edmund’s heart went out to her, but he hesitated to intrude. Instead, he called her name from the doorway. She startled, sniffled, and turned to him with a painful attempt at a smile. “I’m okay, Ed, I just- just need a minute.”
“It’s eerie, isn’t it?” Edmund asked instead of leaving.
Lucy stared at him for a long, long moment, and then crumpled. “I want to go home so bad, Ed.” She sobbed, hands coming up to hide her face.
Edmund finally went to sit beside her and put an arm around her. “I know.” He sighed. “This place- Jack’s family, they’re… they seem almost too good to be true. I keep catching myself talking like- like myself, and realising no one even batted a lash.”
“I can see why Susan loves him.” Lucy agreed softly, and then in a whisper. “That’s the problem. I wish I could enjoy it, finding so many amazing open-minded people here, but… it only reminds me of everything- everyone I’ve lost.”
“Maybe it’s not them that’s lost. Maybe it’s you what got lost, and they still know exactly where they are. Ever thought of that, huh?” Edmund and Lucy both startled at the new voice and looked down to see a custard-and-cream coloured dormouse wearing a little indigo blue tunic standing on Lucy’s knee. Lucy chuckled softly, even as Edmund stared.
“Maybe you’re right.” Lucy agreed. “I do feel rather lost right now.”
Edmund cleared his throat, and both Lucy and the mouse looked up at him. “Excuse me, my good mouse, but… what are you doing here?” He asked, and saw from the corner of his eye Lucy’s eyes widen and then snap back down to the mouse as if she’d only just realised that there really, really shouldn’t be talking animals on this side of the wardrobe. Even in the house of a family that joyously accepted interracial and same-sex partnerships, made no fuss about women in power, and didn’t treat children like they were stupid.
“It’s Sunday, innit?” The mouse demanded. “Everyone-”
“Sal!” This new voice echoed from the mirror of all places, and Edmund watched in awe as a person stepped out of it, the silvery glass rippling like water in their wake. “Sal, I told you, you cannae come this time, Jack said he was bringing gue-” The man was handsome, with curly hair a rich shade of red and long enough to pull back into a tail at the nape his neck, underneath a somewhat lopsided tartan fishing hat. There was golden stubble dusting his jaw, and he was wearing the sort of loose white shirt that Edmund knew from experience would be terribly transparent when wet. “Guests.” The man finished with a grimace. “Ach, hello there. I see you’ve, ah, already met Sallevlan.” He greeted, shooting a glare at the little mouse, whose ears twitched back in contrition even as they lifted their little head in defiance.
“Yes, they’ve been very nice.” Lucy assured the man.
He blinked, but then smiled in clear relief. “You’re nae… scared?” He checked.
“Oh, no, not at all!” Lucy insisted. “Not to say that Sallevlan couldn’t be fearsome if they wanted to, but they were really very kind and helpful.” Sallevlan puffed up with pride. “I’m Lucy Pevensie, and it’s very nice to meet you both.”
“Tavan Hightopp.” The man replied, holding out a hand for Lucy to shake, and then to Edmund.
Edmund refused to let himself let the touch linger, but he couldn’t help noting the multi-coloured ink stains on the long fingers with a touch of entirely inappropriate desire. “Edmund.” He said, keeping his voice level and polite, even though he was so tired of holding himself back like this. Tavan, though, seemed to pick up on something regardless, and his gaze lingered.
Odd, Edmund could have sworn his eyes were grass-green, but now they looked lilac. “Well, if you don’t mind Sal, mayhap I could let the others know they can come if they want? They were a wee bit disappointed when they heard Jack wanted tae introduce someone new but they couldnae come meet them yet.” Tavan explained, words coming fast and eager. Even though Lucy was the one who’d carried the conversation so far, his eyes stayed on Edmund’s.
“We’d love to meet everyone.” Edmund said, smiling faintly.
“Great! I’ll-” Tavan turned towards the mirror mid-sentence, and stammered to a stop when another person stuck just their head and shoulders through it. Edmund thought he could see a hazy image of the rest of their body through the glass, but it was distorted by the reflection of the room. Their features were similar enough to Tavan’s that Edmund didn’t doubt they were related, even though the woman had much shorter hair, a narrower, smoother jaw, and cat-yellow eyes.
“Tavan!” She snapped. “Did ye find Sal y- Oh.”
“I found him.” Tavan replied, laughing. “Although some of Jack’s guests found him first. This is Edmund and Lucy Pevensie.” He introduced. Lucy waved, and Edmund nodded. “And this is my twin sister, Tallis.” Tavan added to them, before returning his attention to his sister. “I think it’ll be safe tae let everyone come, Lissy.”
“Yeah.” Tallis agreed, eyeing the way Lucy wasn’t batting a lash when Sal demanded to know if this ‘Susan’ Jack had gushed about was really as Gentle as a Queen. “I’ll just… let Pa know.” Tallis promptly vanished into the mirror and Edmund, assured for the moment that Lucy was too distracted to be properly upset, rose to join Tavan in standing in front of it.
“Where does it go?” Edmund asked conversationally. There was a second reflection in the mirror, and if he focused, he could see an old-fashioned living room, caught somewhere between rustic, golden age, and fantastical. It wasn’t anything like Cair Paravel, but there was still something distinctly Narnian about it that took his breath away. And the people he could catch glimpses of like ghosts were equally Narnian, perhaps more-so. He saw a passel of pale, white-haired kids like river nymphs or winter sprites, a bunch of puppies gambolling with them and very clearly conversing with them, too, a grey-blue cat hovering in mid-air above the head of an older woman in trousers who looked enough like Tallis and Tavan to be related, although she was blonde rather than red-headed.
Tavan glanced from him to the mirror and back again. “My home in Iplam. It’s a region in Underland that my pa is the Laird of, although it’s also part of the Outlands.”
“Do you have a map?” Edmund asked hopefully.
Tavan laughed. “Well, we do, but it might take you a while tae learn how tae read it.” He explained sheepishly. “Underland can be a wee bit confusing for people who are used tae thinking in a linear sort of way.” Edmund blinked, and stared. He had no idea how a map could possibly be non-linear, but he suddenly, desperately wanted to find out. Tavan must have read some of that hunger on his face, because his grin turned delighted. “Mayhaps… mayhaps after dinner, ye’d like tae come visit?”
“I’d love to.”
Lucy had never waged war like this before. This was far more Edmund and Susan’s court, this wheeling and dealing, the way money and power spoke louder than truth. She refused to curb herself, refused to play the games of little lies and small concessions, but she did learn how to insert herself into places where her words, her truths, would be heard.
She became a well-known name in the world of human rights, civil rights, people rights. She aligned herself with groups and charities and people who were willing to fight for those things, even if it wasn’t all of them. She learned how dropping the right name could get her into the same areas as influential people, and she learned that just looking like you have money made people listen to you.
There were precious few people who agreed with her on most things, and none yet that agreed with her on everything, but she refused to give up. She travelled the world, saw amazing places, met amazing people, and came back to England with their stories on her tongue and a fierce longing for her true home in her heart.
When the invitation to a fundraiser at Pemberley came, Lucy went, because she never missed a chance to pour her words into the ears of the affluent and influential. The Darcys were old money, and even higher up on the social ladder than Susan’s new family-in-law, but Lucy had been a Queen once, and she forced them to make space for her; a middle-class woman from Finchley with delusions of influence.
It was a surprisingly productive evening, even if Lucy did have to threaten one politician with a knife to get him to back off and stop patronising her. It wasn’t that she wasn’t interested in romance, it was just that most of the men who were interested in her wanted things she couldn’t give them. Things like marriage and children.
Peter and Susan didn’t understand. They’d lost a lot when they left Narnia, but they hadn’t lost what Lucy had. They understood her grief, of course, but they still expected her to get over it, eventually, to move on and build a new life here. Well, she was doing, she just couldn’t bring herself to walk the same paths she had in Narnia. She thought Edmund understood, even if he had adopted Underland as his new Narnia and managed to build so much of what he’d had before with new people in that new place.
Lucy couldn’t.
When the ache got too much, she slipped out of the house, away from the party, and into the woods. They were beautiful, more wild than she often saw in England, and Lucy wanted to cry. If she closed her eyes, she could almost pretend she was back in Narnia, a warm midsummer night with the dryads and the fauns revelling in the dark.
She kicked off her shoes without hesitation, not caring where they fell, and let her toes wiggle into the dew-damp grass. The grass was cold, but the soil beneath was warm under her feet, and she let go of the weight of her worries for a moment, and just danced. Broken twigs and chipped pebbles bit at her feet, but she didn’t care. Once upon a time her feet had been toughened by how often she ran barefoot through the woods, and even though she couldn’t manage it here, she wanted to pretend, just for a little while, that all that time, those thousand years that had spirited her family away from her were gone.
“Oh!”
Lucy spun to a stop, staring at the young man standing between the trees, staring at her in shock. She recognised him from the party, but couldn’t place him right away. One of the Darcy children, she thought. He did have the look of his father, all olive skin and dark curly hair. “Hello.” She greeted, because even if she’d wanted to be alone, she wasn’t going to be rude.
The man blinked at her, and then let out a breath that was caught somewhere between a sigh of relief and an incredulous laugh. “Hello. Sorry. For a moment there, I thought I’d stumbled across a fairy ring and that you were some sort of spirit of the woods or something.” He admitted with another little self-deprecating laugh.
Lucy beamed, more flattered than he’d expected her to be. More flattered than she’d expected to be. “Who says I’m not?” She challenged.
The man tipped his head in acknowledgement. “I suppose you could be. I just wouldn’t have expected a nymph to just say hello to an intruder like that.” He pointed out. “…Although I can’t imagine what they would do…”
“Well, it depends what they want, doesn’t it?” Lucy countered, stepping closer to see him better in the gloom of the forest at dusk. His eyes went a little wide at her approach, but he didn’t retreat, so Lucy dared to step close enough for a polite conversation. “If I just wanted to dance alone in the moonlight, I might have run, or told you to leave. But if I want company, the polite thing to do is to say hello.”
He nodded, opened his mouth, and closed it again. “That does make sense. Although it’s hard to imagine some fey creature wanting the company of humans, except for nefarious purposes.” He mused, shifting from foot to foot like he was uncomfortable, but there was also a crooked little smile tugging hopefully at the corner of his mouth, like he wanted to invite Lucy to share the joke.
And Lucy did, maybe more than he meant her to, because, well, she knew nymphs, and she knew just how ‘nefarious’ most people here would consider their purpose on a midsummer night. She laughed, giggled into her hand. “Maybe my purposes are nefarious.” She teased. “Maybe I’m dancing out here to lure some pretty young thing into the woods for a different kind of dance.”
His eyes went huge. “…Okay.”
The word came out breathless and awed and nervous, and Lucy took the invitation without a second thought, stepping into his space and leaning up to kiss him, just as he started to say something else. “I m-” Lucy drew back and raised her eyebrows at him. He just stared for a long moment. “I- I mean- Really?” He checked.
“Of course, really.” Lucy assured him. “Unless you don’t want to. I don’t mind.” She added, gently, because there were all those silly expectations and unspoken rules here, and she had no idea if he even knew whether he wanted to or not.
“I- I do, I just… don’t-” He stopped, cleared his throat, and tried again. “I never- Everyone always expected-”
“Expected more from you than you wanted to give?” Lucy supplied, in a moment of clarity and painful empathy with him. “They expect it to mean something so much more than just people being together and touching each other because it feels good?”
He was looking at her with wonder again. “Yes. Yes, that’s it exactly.” Lucy smiled, and kissed him again. This time, he kissed back, and Lucy tugged and twisted at his shirt until she had him backed up against one of the trees. She could imagine how the dryad would giggle, would wrap her arms around the pair of them, would lower her lips to his neck or whisper wicked things in his ear. They parted for breath, and Lucy diverted her attention to freeing his neck from the confines of his collar.
His hands slid up her sides, his touch cautious and uncertain. “I have no idea what I’m doing.” He admitted on an exhilarated breath.
“That’s okay.” Lucy murmured, even as his words pulled on the memory of her own mouth forming words so much alike, and the reassurance her dear, dear friend had murmured to her. The words she’d needed, the words that had started them down a path they’d planned to walk side-by-side forever. But instead of hurting, like reminders of him so often did, it felt strangely right, as though he was right behind her, too, his arms around the both of them, a smile on his lips and a light in his eyes as he said, in tandem with her; “We can figure it out together.”
#Chronicles of Narnia#Pevensie siblings#meet cute#crossovers#Lucy/Tumnus#idk if there's a ship name#I'm new here#Peter Pan#yeah Jane is the Jane from the disney sequel#I loved that movie ngl#Alice in Wonderland#Alice/Hatter#Tavan is their grandson#Jack is their... great nephew#through Alice's sister#(Alice is still young because in underland you're only as old as you feel)#(imagine everyone's faces when Edmund steps through the looking glass)#(and he's like 25 and treats the White Queen like an equal)#Pride and Prejudice#it's just a theme with Darcy men#that their best feature is their environmentally friendly forrestry practices#XD#wooing their wives with woodlands since 1813#And also!#Queer Pevensies#Lucy is Poly#Edmund is Gay#(Susan is Bi)#(Peter is Demi)
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“Me and dead owls don’t give a hoot”: Justified Season 3, Episodes 2-4
We’re back at it, as the major conflicts of Justified’s third season begin to take shape. My recap of Episode One, “The Gunfighter”, is here; the previous season’s notes are tagged with ‘#justified season 2′, and the general tag for related business is ‘#did you miss my heart on purpose’.
Episode Two: “Cut Ties”
-In the aftermath of the encounter with Fletcher Nix, Raylan wakes up in the house Winona shared with Gary, only to have his morning routine disrupted by an ill-timed visit from the new realtor.
-Raylan goes to visit Boyd in jail, and the two of them muse on their unconventional relationships-- Raylan’s contemplating moving in with his pregnant ex-wife, and Boyd is, as he describes it, sleeping with “his dead brother’s widow and murderess”. Raylan also drops a hint that he knows why Boyd was so keen to get himself locked up this time around.
-Marshal Service Case of the Week: Art Mullen gets a visit from his old pal Bill Nichols, who works in Witness Protection. Nichols gets cornered outside a diner and shot in the leg. Following up on his disappearance is Agent Karen Goodall (Carla Gugino) up from Miami, and it’s implied that she and Raylan have a shared past. As the two of them track down a possible lead, Art sends Rachel to the home of one of Nichols’ witnesses--a woman with two small children-- with orders to watch and wait. Art tracks down the man who shot Nichols and, after interrogating him, establishes the link: he sold the addresses of Nichols’ other witnesses to a mob boss named Little Joe DeLaHunt (the man Raylan and Agent Goodall are tracking). Raylan, Goodall, and Art show up to help Rachel, who has managed to fend off two attackers and keep the witness and her children safe.
-Meanwhile Boyd, acting on a reluctant tip from Dewey Crowe, engineers another fight to get himself placed in solitary confinement, where his new neighbor just happens to be Dickie Bennett. Boyd sneaks into Dickie’s cell and holds him at knifepoint, demanding the location of Mags’ money. Dickie informs him it’s with a man named Ellstin Limehouse. Next morning, Boyd is released into Ava’s arms, and explains that getting the money will be trickier than they anticipated.
-In the final scene, we meet the mysterious Mr. Limehouse (Mykelti Williamson)-- aside from Rachel, he and his assistants, Errol (Demetrius Grosse) and Bernard (Cleavon McLendon) are the first major Black characters we’ve seen on the show. While carefully carving up a pig, Limehouse lectures Bernard for falling asleep on watch duty, and offers a choice: Bernard can submit to having his hand burned with lye, to settle the affair, or he can promise not to screw up again, knowing, if he does, the consequences will be dire. Bernard takes “Door #2.” As the camera pulls away, it lingers on Errol’s hand, which is marked with a heavy burn scar.
Episode Three: “Harlan Roulette”
-Ava makes a nocturnal visit to Limehouse’s BBQ shack-- clearly, they know each other well. She brings him to meet with Boyd, who is decidedly out of his comfort zone. Boyd offers to dispatch Dickie Bennett, but Limehouse doesn’t bite, and instead, slyly hints at Boyd’s “weed problem”. Boyd takes a swing at Devil for not burning the marijuana as ordered.
-Trooper Tom Bergen calls Raylan down-- they’ve caught scent of Wade Messer. They’re looking at him for a series of armed robberies, possibly connected to OxyContin trafficking, and Raylan expresses surprise that the generally benign Messer would be caught up in such business. Messer escapes the roadblock, but his buddy JT is caught and arrested.
-We catch up with Dewey Crowe and Dickie Bennett, bro-ing out in the prison yard. Corrupt guard Ash Murphy, who assisted Boyd in the previous episode, bends Dickie’s ear about the Bennett money. Jeremy Davies, as Dickie, gives possibly my favorite line-delivery in whole series when he tells Murphy to “h-h-hold your horses.”
-Messer and JT show up to apologize to their dealer, pawn-shop owner Glenn Fogle. Fogle makes JT play a few rounds of “Harlan Roulette” in punishment. “Maybe it’s just your lucky day, son,” Fogle says, as JT escapes round after round. “Maybe not,” Fogle intones, after shooting him.
-Errol arrives at the Givens home to offload the ruined weed stash, and Boyd directs Devil to help. Arlo puts a flea in Boyd’s ear about their discontent. Inside, Boyd pulls Devil, Arlo, and Ava in for a meeting and lays out his plans for the new Crowder empire. “We will not work with outsiders,” he declares.
-Off to Lexington, where Robert Quarles is describing his plans to take over the Oxy racket to Wynn Duffy. Quarles takes a phone call, and Duffy asks for the restroom. He takes a wrong turn, and discovers a seemingly naked man, gagged and bound on a bed. Quarles cheerfully redirects him- “Other side, buddy,” and Duffy turns away, visibly creeped out.
-Raylan visits Glenn Fogle, on Messer’s trail. Fogle makes a panicked call to Wynn Duffy, and Quarles, listening in, suggests that Fogle arrange for Wade Messer to kill Raylan.
-Step one of Boyd’s agenda: re-taking control of Johnny’s bar. Johnny, who has been conspicuously absent up to this point, unveils some new recruits to the crew: young punk Jimmy (Jesse Luken), about whom Johnny affectionately says, “We never know what he’ll do, so that’s a problem,” and the menacing, longhaired Rip.
-A very glum Wade Messer, having summoned Raylan to his house under the pretext of surrender, finds Raylan already waiting on the front porch. It turns out that Raylan went inside and found the gun Messer was supposed to shoot him with. Messer lures Glenn Fogle to the scene, and a standoff ensues, with Fogle and his henchman each offering Raylan information before unwittingly shooting each other.
-Boyd drinks with Devil, who reminisces about the glory days of Crowder’s Commandos, to Boyd’s obvious discomfort. Finally, Devil comes to the point-- which Boyd Crowder is he being asked to follow? Boyd responds that he’s the same as he’s always been, which, while probably true, isn’t the answer Devil thinks it is.
-Raylan, acting on a tip from Fogle, pays Wynn Duffy an impromptu visit, just as Robert Quarles is showing off his new wrist-gun rig. Raylan roughs Duffy up a little, and then, in an escalation of his previous threat, drops a bullet on Duffy’s chest. “Next one’s comin’ faster,” he growls, to Quarles’ obvious amusement.
Episode Four: “The Devil You Know”
-Devil meets with none other than Robert Quarles, at the recommendation of his friend Tanner Dodd. Quarles claims to sympathize with Devil’s plight (as told to him by Dodd), and suggests Devil join forces with him. Devil isn’t an idiot, repugnant politics aside-- he knows an opportunity when he sees one.
-Speaking of joining forces, Dewey Crowe jumps in to defend Dickie Bennett during a ruckus in the prison yard, and Murphy, who planned to help Dickie escape, expresses profound irritation. The infirmary nurse Lance (Clayne Crawford), on the other hand, seems to think Dewey might be useful.
-So, there’s a thing in dog training called the “blanket test”, used to measure problem-solving skills. You put a towel or blanket over the dog’s head (gently), and most competent pups will be able to extricate themselves in less than 30 seconds. As Murphy goes to let the two miscreants out of the van, Dewey Crowe falls out, and begins flopping around in a panic, still inside the body bag, failing the blanket test in spectacular fashion.
-Raylan goes to visit Loretta McCready, to ask if she might have any ideas about Mags’ missing money. She gives him a hard time, but clearly, both of them enjoy the interaction, and she mentions Limehouse.
-Next, Raylan and Rachel go to visit Limehouse, and Raylan explains the history of Noble’s Holler-- founded by emancipated slaves, and kept in self-willed isolation ever since. When Raylan mentions his surname, Limehouse pretends not to recognize it. He reluctantly agrees to let the marshals set up a roadblock, watching for Dickie Bennett. Dickie and Murphy see the police lights and head back to a motel, where Dickie makes new arrangements with Limehouse.
-Raylan heads to Johnny’s bar, trying to sniff out Boyd’s angle on Noble’s Holler. More history is revealed: Limehouse has offered sanctuary to white women looking to escape abusive husbands, including Raylan’s mother Frances. Raylan witnessed Arlo receive a beating at Limehouse’s hands when he attempted to get Frances back. Raylan then pulls Boyd aside, alerting him that Dewey and Dickie are out and looking for Mags’ money.
-Back at the motel, Murphy, Lance, and Dickie squabble-- Limehouse is supposed to call Dickie when the money has been delivered, and hours have passed with no word. Murphy goes out for fried chicken.
-At the bar, Johnny finds Devil lurking in the back office, and asks what’s on his mind. Devil says he’s through with Boyd Crowder, and he knows how to get in some “deep pockets”. Johnny drily says, “Start talking, Devil.”
-Raylan tracks down Murphy, tray of chicken in hand, and literally runs him down, as Dickie and the others escape from the hotel room. Murphy details the plan, and makes a remark about things potentially getting “weird”. Dewey tries to run away at a gas station, and Lance takes him, while Dickie and the others head to the store.
-Rachel stops Errol’s truck, which he claims is full of pig manure, and makes it clear she has every intention of searching it before she’ll let him through the roadblock. He turns back around, and a dismayed Raylan realizes that he was probably carrying the money. “Goddamn if I don’t have to save Dickie Bennett,” he mutters, driving off.
-Sure enough, Dickie is about to meet some unpleasant fate at the hands of the two men from the motel when Errol and Limehouse arrive at the store. Dickie opens a cooler, only to find that there’s significantly less money in it than expected. He angrily hands it back to Limehouse, saying their business isn’t finished until the whole $3 million is recovered. Raylan shows up, and Dickie surrenders.
-Devil makes his play-- with Johnny at his side, he corners Boyd for a “come-to-Jesus” meeting. Boyd sighs with regret, calling him “son”, and seeming to surrender. He asks for one last word, and Devil nods. “Knowing me the way that you do,” Boyd says softly, “What ever led you to believe you could pull this off?” Johnny raises his pistol to Devil’s head, and Boyd shoots him in the chest. He’s clearly furious, but there’s also grief in his voice-- no doubt Devil reminds him of his younger, angrier self. The episode ends with Boyd firing directly into Devil’s forehead, to ease his passing.
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CAPTAIN FIN CO. WADE GOODALL-M 13,300YEN＋TAX @captainfinco @wadegoodall グラスフレックスフィンは変わらず良いです。 @futuresfins との相性も抜群です。 ブラックアウトされたルックスも良いですが、最近ではホワイトアウトな感じも気に入っています。 美しいです。 @captainfinco でフィンリサーチを進めています。 選択肢が広がって楽しいです。 店頭在庫も揃えています。 気になる方は現品をご覧いただけます。 今日は波はありませんが、明日は次第に反応が上向いてきそうです。 日祭日は18時までご来店お待ちしています。 #fallsurfing #seaofjapan #japansea #niigata #nagaoka #freedomstateofmind #freedomsurfco #captainfinco (フリーダム サーフカンパニー) https://www.instagram.com/p/Ci1rSLPvO5G/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
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Betsy Wade, First Woman to Edit News at The Times, Dies at 91
Betsy Wade, First Woman to Edit News at The Times, Dies at 91
The Times agreed to place more women in jobs ranging from entry level to top management, and to create annuities covering costs of “delayed career advancement or denied opportunity.” But it did not grant raises or admit any violations of law. James C. Goodale, The Times’s executive vice president at the time, called the paper’s voluntary affirmative action program “one of the strongest in the…
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Vans x Wade Goodall Classic Slip-On SF https://www.sneakerscartel.com/vans-x-wade-goodall-classic-slip-on-sf/
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People, August 3
Cover: Alex Trebek -- Love Has Kept Me Alive
Page 3: Chatter -- Jim Carrey on dating Linda Ronstadt in the ‘80s, John Legend on what would happen if he cheated on wife Chrissy Teigen, Alicia Silverstone on Clueless’ legacy 25 years later, Lindsay Lohan on how people on the Parent Trap set would treat her differently depending on which twin she was dressed as, Ricky Martin on being closeted during the height of his fame, Kelly Rowland on being compared to her Destiny’s Child bandmate Beyonce
Page 5: 5 Things We’re Talking About This Week -- Jennifer Grey might be working on a Dirty Dancing sequel, avocado milk arrives in the U.S., ultrarealistic cakes trend online, The Golden Girls house is for sale, Tina Turner still rocks
Page 9: Contents
Page 10: StarTracks -- Stars in the Sun -- Colin Jost surfing in the Hamptons (full page)
Page 11: Gwyneth Paltrow and her daughter Apple, Eva Longoria, Drake shirtless in Barbados, Brody Jenner hit the Malibu beach with his electric surfboard
Page 12: Chris Meloni and Mariska Hargitay, Camilla Duchess of Cornwall visited the Cornwall Air Ambulance Trust, Nicky Minaj showed off her baby bump, Shaun White and dad Roger on bikes
Page 13: Cute Couples -- Kristen Bell and Dax Shepard in Sedona, Quavo and Saweetie step out in L.A., David Foster and Katharine McPhee wore face masks while out in Beverly Hills, Dwyane Wade and Gabrielle Union masked up for a date night
Page 14: Russell Dickerson and pregnant wife Kailey, Michael B. Jordan grabbed a snack at a Night at the Drive-In showing of Black Panther and Creed, LeBron James hit the court in Orlando to practice, Ariana Grande wears a mask when she stepped into a recording studio
Page 15: Stars’ Best Friends -- Courteney Cox and her dogs Harley and Hopper and pal Jennifer Aniston, Naomi Watts took her rescue pup Izzy with her on a shopping trip, Emily Ratajkowski walks her dog Colombo, Justin Theroux walks his dog Kuma, PLEASE ADOPT, DON’T SHOP
Page 17: Scoop -- Hayden Panettiere’s domestic abuse nightmare
Page 18: Inside the DWTS cast shake-up
Page 19: Kim Kardashian West and Kanye West in crisis after shocking comments
Page 21: Anika Noni Rose on Princess Tiana’s legacy
Page 22: Heart Monitor -- Danica Patrick and Aaron Rodgers split, Nick and Vanessa Lachey happy anniversary, Joey Lawrence and Chandie Yawn-Nelson divorcing, Lucy Hale and Colton Underwood new couple
Page 25: What’s next for Jennifer Lopez and Alex Rodriguez, Alison Brie on marriage and movies
Page 27: Passages, Why I Care -- after struggling with anxiety as a child Jewel started her own foundation to help others
Page 28: Stories to Make You Smile -- a special needs chicken named Poppy takes a road trip from California to New York, a couple build an Imagination Garden in their backyard
Page 31: People Picks -- Normal People
Page 32: Die Hart, Helter Skelter: An American Myth
Page 33: Rogue Trip, One to Watch -- Palm Springs’ Meredith Hagner
Page 34: The Alienist: Angel of Darkness, Stockton on My Mind, Rufus Wainwright -- Unfollow the Rules, Mucho Mucho Amor: The Legend of Walter Mercado, Q&A -- Rosamund Pike
Page 37: Books
Page 42: Cover Story -- Alex Trebek and Jean Currivan Trebek -- we are one soul in two bodies -- married for 30 years the couple share their extraordinary love story and how they’ve gotten each other through the most challenging time of their lives
Page 48: Princess Beatrice and Edoardo Mapelli Mozzi surprise royal wedding -- Queen Elizabeth’s granddaughter quietly ties the knot after canceling her originally planned ceremony amid the pandemic
Page 54: John Lewis -- a civil rights titan -- the congressman who marched with Martin Luther King Jr. fought through six decades to prove that black lives must matter
Page 58: Blake Shelton -- life and love in quarantine -- the country star opens up about his joyful duet with Gwen Stefani and how they’re finding happiness in everyday life
Page 60: Where is Suzanne Morphew? Vanished on Mother’s Day -- the wife and mom of two disappeared while out on a solitary bike ride two months ago and she’s still missing
Page 64: Their Journey Together -- mother and daughter doctors -- Cynthia Kudji-Sylvester always knew she wanted to go to medical school and become a doctor; this year she earned her degree and began her residency alongside her daughter Jasmine Kudji
Page 66: Ellie Goulding -- music, marriage and finding myself -- after a relentless decade the singer opens up about coping with anxiety and making big changes in her life
Page 70: Jane Goodall -- what I know now -- the beloved conservationist marks the 60th anniversary of her groundbreaking research on chimpanzees and talks about how she’s still fighting to protect them and the planet
Page 74: Entrepreneur Koreen Odiney -- the woman behind the hottest game in Hollywood -- We’re Not Really Strangers is inspiring millions including Jada Pinkett Smith and Tracee Ellis Ross to connect in ways they never imagined
Page 77: Catherine Zeta-Jones -- what my life’s really like -- the Oscar winner now adding shoes and makeup to her label reveals her inspirations and her love for game night
Page 78: Products worth the hype
Page 83: Editor’s Picks -- Nordstrom’s Anniversary Sale
Page 85: Anna Francese Gass’ recipe for Grilled Avocado with Corn and Mango Salsa
Page 87: Second Look -- Joel Courtney and Joey King in The Kissing Booth 2
Page 88: One Last Thing -- Craig T. Nelson
#tabloid#tabloid toc#alex trebek#jeopardy!#craig t. nelson#Hayden Panettiere#dwts#kim kardashian west#kanye west#anika noni rose#princess tiana#alison brie#princess beatrice#edoardo mapelli mozzi#john lewis#blake shelton#gwen stefani#suzanne morphew#cynthia kudji-sylvester#jasmine kudji#ellie goulding#jane goodall#koreen odiney#we're not really strangers#wnrs#catherine zeta-jones#danica patrick#aaron rodgers#lucy hale#colton underwood
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HOUSE OF VANS | THE SURF LODGE | MONTAUK, NY
Vibes for days at the House of Vans weekend pop-up at The Surf Lodge. Here’s a look at our film screenings there including Greetings, a surf film featuring Vans team riders Dylan Graves, Wade Goodall, Pat Gudauskas, and Dane Gudauskas. Check out the film’s trailer and look out for it’s public release soon!
Photos: Laura June Kirsch
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The Watcher: Jane Goodall’s Life with the Chimps
Author: Jeanette Winter
Illustrator: Jeanette Winter
Publisher: Schwartz & Wade
Publication Year: 2011
Awards:
Starred Review - Booklist, Kirkus
ALA Notable Children’s Book
CCBC Choices
Bank Street CBC Best Children’s Book of the Year
Brief Summary:
Acclaimed picture book biographer Jeanette Winter has found her perfect subject: Jane Goodall, the great observer of chimpanzees. Follow Jane from her childhood in London watching a robin on her windowsill, to her years in the African forests of Gombe, Tanzania, invited by brilliant scientist Louis Leakey to observe chimps, to her worldwide crusade to save these primates who are now in danger of extinction, and their habitat. Young animal lovers and Winter's many fans will welcome this fascinating and moving portrait of an extraordinary person and the animals to whom she has dedicated her life.
Ideas for using this book in classroom or library: Women’s History Month, STEM zoology focus
Special Features Include: Bibliographical References
Where I Accessed The Book: Blount County Public Library (JB GOODALL)
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Incredible short of some waves from Wade Goodall...http://www.thesurfslab.com/2017/01/wade-goodall.html
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