Podcasts about Nearby

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Illegals from Bengal Flooding into Nearby States | Rahul Gandhi & SIR Shockwaves | Abhijit IyerMitra

Illegal/Bangladeshi Influx in Nearby WB States | Assam Follows Yogi Model | Baba Ramdas, PN Awasthi

A horrific killing of a stag occurred in Newbridge House in Donnabate in the early hours of Wednesday morning. The stag, who was 8 years old, was one of 16 Irish red deer. The herd were kept fenced in for more than two decades as they are a protected species.The stag's head was decapitated. and there is no doubt that it was a trophy kill.Nearby residents are shocked at the incident and have said nothing like this has ever happened before.What do we need to do to prevent animal cruelty like this happening?Joining Andrea to discuss is local Cllr Eoghan Dockrell, Co-Founder of My Lovely Horse Rescue Martina Kenny and John Tierney from the Association of Hunt Saboteurs.

Andy’s Brave New World: Part 3 The group leaves Yosemite, encounters Crystal. Based on a post by the hospital. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels. They were halfway through clearing the third floor's residential wing when the smell hit them, that too-familiar sweet-sour scent they'd encountered far too many times in the past week. They found him in one of the bedrooms, a middle-aged man in diplomatic attire, Juyeon John Chu, collapsed across his bed as if he'd simply laid down for a moment's rest. "I'll take care of it," Andy said quietly, already moving toward the body. "We can't bury him here, we might need the soil for growing food later. I'll take him to the sea tomorrow morning." No one argued. They'd all seen too many bodies to be truly shocked anymore, but finding one in what was meant to be their sanctuary cast a pall. "Let's get the water system running," Andy suggested after they'd wrapped the body and moved it to the yard. "But hold off on the generator for now. No sense advertising our presence with lights until we're more settled." They chose their rooms quickly. Daniela picked a corner room with good sightlines to the street. Sarah chose one near the bathroom, while Crystal selected a smaller room. Andy took the room nearest the stairs, positioning himself between potential threats and the others. The work of unloading their supplies took the rest of the daylight hours, their movements becoming more efficient as they learned the building's layout. They gathered on the roof as the sun began to set, their camp stoves and rehydrated meals spread out on a foldable plastic table scavenged from the kitchen. The view was breathtaking, the Golden Gate Bridge silhouetted against the darkening sky, the bay waters reflecting the last orange rays of sunlight. Despite everything, despite the silence that had fallen over the city and the scattered signs of candlelight appearing in distant windows, the vista remained stubbornly, achingly beautiful. "It's so pretty here," Crystal offered softly. "And it has everything we need. Good choice." She smiled at Andy. "Yeah, I'm glad this place has a gym," Sarah said, picking at her camping meal. "If I could just order my Korean skincare products, I'd be set." She sighed. "God, my skin is going to be a disaster without my routine." Andy chuckled, leaning back against the low wall. "For me, it's Netflix and H B O, I'll miss most. And streaming new music." He shrugged at their surprised looks. "I know, I know, I'm a park ranger, I should be all about nature. And I am! But there's nothing like unwinding with a good show or a new album after a long day." "Ice cream," Daniela said suddenly, her voice softer than usual. "I really miss ice cream. It's probably all melted now. And YouTube. Dad and I used to;" she paused. "Watch together all the time. I learned so much from tutorial videos. How to fix things, how to make stuff." She stared at her bowl. Crystal set down her bowl and touched Daniela softly on the arm. "For me, a proper hot shower," she said wistfully. "And getting my hair done at the salon. Just the whole experience of it, someone washing your hair, the massage;" "Oh god, yes," Sarah groaned. "My colorist in L A, she was an artist. These highlights?" She tugged at a strand of her expertly highlighted hair. "They're going to grow out and look awful." "Who did you go to?" Crystal asked, perking up slightly. "In L A, I mean?" "Sadie at Salon Santa Monica," Sarah replied. "Once I could afford it." Crystal's eyes lit up with recognition. "Oh! I knew some girls who went there. The agency had me going to Maurice at Atelier." She named one of the most exclusive salons in Los Angeles. "I mean, I couldn't afford it myself, it was part of the modeling contract." "Maurice?" Sarah's eyes widened. "I dream about getting an appointment there. Their balayage technique is incredible." They spent the next few minutes trading stories about L A salons and beauty treatments, their voices growing more animated as they compared experiences. Andy and Daniela exchanged bored glances, letting them have their moment of nostalgia. Finally, the conversation lulled naturally. Andy cleared his throat, his expression growing more serious. "For tonight, we'll get the Starlink array set up, then everyone can get some rest. Maybe have a shower." He gave Crystal a small smile. "Though it'll be cold for now, the water heater runs on natural gas, so that's going to take some time to sort out." He set his empty bowl aside. "Tomorrow morning, we should head to the Presidio, see what kind of organization is forming there. But before that, we need to think about security. Daniela, those anti-personnel mines you brought; think you can set up a perimeter?" Daniela nodded. "I also want to do a more thorough sweep of the building," he continued. "Check every desk, every shelf. Might find keys, documents, anything useful." The setting sun cast long shadows across the roof as he laid out his thoughts. "This place makes sense as a long-term base. The off-grid water and power should last us months, hopefully long enough to find renewable sources. If we can track down someone who knows electrical work, maybe get some solar panels up here on the roof with a battery bank, we'll be set." Sarah nodded, her expression open. "So we're staying?" A series of quick nods around the group confirmed their agreement. "In that case," Andy continued, "we should start doing serious scavenging runs. Stock up on preserved food, drinks, medical supplies, anything useful we can find. Crystal, can you look up all the grocery stores and restaurants, anywhere we might find food, and put them on a map? I saw a framed map of SF downstairs, we can use that for now." "Of course, glad to. I found a janitorial closet earlier too," Crystal said, her voice careful but eager to contribute. "But most of the cleaning equipment is electric. If we could get some manual supplies I could help maintain the place properly." "Good thinking," Andy acknowledged. "Add that to the list." He paused, considering. "You know, looking at our group, we've got, survival skills, combat expertise, " he nodded toward Daniela, "and you two are both eager and resourceful. But we're missing a lot. No medical knowledge beyond basic first aid. No electrical or mechanical experience. Nobody who knows construction or farming." He looked around the circle. "If we find people with those skills, we should consider inviting them to join us. This place is big enough." "What about the water situation long-term? We'll go through it faster if more join." Daniela asked. "Once our storage runs out, going down to the bay to refill with our trucks and purify would be inefficient. Maybe dangerous too." Andy nodded approvingly at her foresight. "You're right. But that's a problem we share with other survivors, so we can keep an eye out for solutions, maybe try to organize something collectively. A well, maybe? Or a water truck, get someone who knows how to swap its engine for a Tesla electric one." He paused and rubbed his chin. "Solar panels and batteries can last 25-30 years with minimal maintenance. Medium-term, we should look to electrify everything we can. Long-term;" he shrugged. "Hopefully society gets organized enough to restart battery and solar panel production or something." He sat up straighter. "Actually, that should be our top priority, medium term, reducing fuel dependency. All our fuel will degrade within a year anyway." He started counting off on his fingers. "Find an electrician. Scavenge solar panels and batteries. Track down some electric vehicles." A pause. "Everything else we need, food, medicine, weapons, we can stockpile, but fuel? That's our biggest vulnerability right now." "Makes sense," Sarah said, rising from her spot on the roof. "I'm going to set up the array and then hit the gym before bed." She glanced at Andy, her voice taking on a playful tone. "Want to join? I could use a spotter." Andy met her gaze, a slight smile playing at his lips. "Sure. Could use a workout after all that driving." Day 7, Evening The gym felt different in the dim glow of their camping lantern, shadows playing across the equipment. Sarah had changed into a matching set of compression shorts and sports bra in deep purple, the material clinging to every curve as she began her warm-up stretches. Why she felt the need to change from athleisure to athleisure was beyond Andy's comprehension, but he appreciated seeing her in yet another fitness-influencer outfit. She positioned herself where Andy could clearly see her, making each movement deliberately graceful, arching her back slightly more than necessary. "I usually focus on targeted exercises," she said, moving to the cable machine for some standing rows that emphasized her toned back and shoulders. She adjusted her stance, making sure he had a perfect view of her form. "You know, for the gains. But I guess those days are done." Andy let his gaze linger appreciatively on her athletic figure, toned legs, and firm ass. "Those isolation exercises clearly worked for you," he said, moving closer ostensibly to watch her form. "But with everything we're dealing with now, functional strength might be more important." Sarah adjusted her position, deliberately brushing against him as she moved. "Oh? What would you suggest?" "Compound lifts," Andy said, pointing to the power rack. "Deadlifts, squats, bench press. Works multiple muscle groups at once, builds practical strength." He walked over and demonstrated the deadlift form with an empty bar, aware of her eyes on him. Sarah approached the rack, copying his stance but imperfect. "Like this?" she asked, looking back at him over her shoulder. Andy stepped behind her to adjust her position, his hands firm but gentle as they guided her shoulders and hips into proper alignment. He stayed close, his breath warm on her neck. "Keep your back straight," he said, his voice low and intimate. "Engage your core." She completed the lift, then turned to face him, still holding the bar, their bodies inches apart. "That definitely feels different," she said, looking up at him. "More; intense." "It's better for overall fitness," Andy said, making no move to step back. "Not just for show." Sarah set the bar down carefully, letting her hand brush his arm as she straightened. "Well, I trust your expertise. As long as I don't get too bulky." She moved toward the bench press, adding an extra sway to her hips. Looking back at him, she smiled. "Though I have to admit, I don't think I'll be able to stop caring about aesthetic results too." "It really is impressive," Andy said sincerely, his eyes meeting hers. "You'd still be hot if you got bulky though. Amazonian." He said with a flex. She laughed. They worked out a few more minutes, then Sarah approached him, dabbing at her neck with a towel. After a moment's hesitation, she started. "Andy; can we talk serious for a sec?" He nodded, giving her his full attention. "Look, I'm just going to be honest," she said. "I'm attracted to you. How could I not be? You've kept us safe, led us through this nightmare;" She gave a small laugh. "Plus, you know, the whole ranger thing really works for you." Andy smiled, and let her continue, anticipating a "but". "But, well, we only met a few days ago, even if it does feel like it's been weeks. And with everything that's happened," She motioned vaguely at the world outside. "I'm not ready to jump into bed yet. I don't even know what a relationship would look like now. I hope you understand." "Of course," Andy said gently. "I'm attracted to you too, Sarah. Very much. But you're right, we're all still processing everything that's happened. There's no rush." Sarah stepped closer, a playful glint returning to her pretty almond eyes. "That said; maybe we could explore things gradually?" She glanced toward the gym shower. "For instance, I'm gonna shower right now. I need someone to wash my back." She gave him a flirtatious smile before biting her lip. "Though I can't promise you won't end up a little; frustrated." Andy's smile widened. "I think I can handle that risk." "Yeah?" Sarah asked, already backing toward the shower, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. "Yeah," Andy replied, following her lead. They walked together to the shower area, exchanging eager smiles. "Me first," Sarah said playfully, turning her back to him. She slowly peeled off her sports bra, exaggerating her movements and swaying her hips. The compression shorts followed, sliding down her toned legs with deliberate sensuality, revealing a plump and juicy ass. When she turned back, she had one arm draped across her tits and the other hand covering herself below. The lantern light played across her athletic figure; toned, gently muscled stomach, curved hips tapering to strong thighs, and a natural tan line from her usual workout attire. Her skin glowed golden in the dim light, a light sheen of sweat from their workout making her practically shimmer. Seeing Andy's appreciative gaze, she giggled and dropped her arm from her chest. Her cute B-cup tits were perfectly perky, defying gravity even uncovered, with small rosy nipples standing at attention. "Your turn," she said coyly, still covering herself below. Andy laughed and simply pulled off his tank top. "Aww, I give you a show and you just do it like that? No; ceremony?" Grinning, Andy turned and mimicked her earlier performance, slowly working his shorts down with exaggerated movements. When he turned back, he had one hand strategically placed over his junk. They both laughed at the playful awkwardness of the moment before simultaneously revealing themselves fully. "Oh," Sarah said appreciatively, her eyes widening slightly. "Nice; proportions." "Thanks, you too." He said, eyeing her up and down. Sarah laughed and led him into the shower by his arm, both of them very aware of his erect hardness brushing against her waist. She reached for the tap, and sighed luxuriously as the cold stream hit her. "Ahh, that's nice. I always shower cold. It's better for skin and post-workout inflammation." "What about this inflammation?" Andy quipped, making her giggle. They swapped places and as the ice-cold water hit him, Andy tensed slightly, trying not to show it. Sarah noticed anyway. "What kind of ranger isn't used to cold showers?" she teased, reaching for the soap. "Actually, I have the Korean no-B O gene," Andy admitted. "So I usually just skipped showers if there was no hot water." "Gross" Sarah said, as she began soaping herself. "Could you get my back?" she asked innocently, turning around. Andy's hands moved across her shoulders and down her spine. She turned back to face him. "Oh, and I think I missed a spot in front too;" Andy's breath caught as his hands cupped her tits. They were perfectly sized for his palms, simultaneously firm yet yielding, with hard nipples pressing against his fingers as he explored them. Sarah giggled at his expression of sacred reverence. "Are they that nice?" she asked playfully, mewling gently at his touch. "Yes, they are," he breathed. She took the soap and returned the favor, working her way down his back and across his stomach. When she reached his waist, she paused, looking up at him questioningly, her hazel eyes wide and innocent despite her intentions. At his smile, she wrapped her delicate fingers around his shaft, exploring every inch with careful attention. Andy watched as she traced the length with feather-light touches, circled the sensitive head with her thumb, stroked the tender underside, and gently cupped his balls. Her eyes never left his face, studying his reactions to each touch, noting every subtle change in his expression to learn what pleased him most. Turning off the water, she pressed closer, her wet skin sliding against his. "Think you can finish like this?" Her voice was soft but confident. "Yes," Andy managed, already breathing harder from her exploratory touches. She gripped him with both hands now, quickly establishing a rhythm. The soap acted as a perfect lubricant, letting her fingers and palms glide smoothly up and down his shaft. Her technique was precise, one hand working his base while the other focused on his sensitive head, occasionally twisting slightly in a way that made his knees weak. Her gaze was intense as she worked him harder and faster, her eager face showing clear enjoyment of the power she held over him. Water droplets ran down her face and neck, across her perfect tits, making her skin glisten in the dim light. She varied her pressure and speed expertly, reading his reactions and adjusting accordingly. When his hips began to thrust involuntarily, she matched his rhythm, her small hands providing the perfect amount of friction and pressure. Just as he felt his orgasm build, she shifted her approach, her left hand maintaining a steady stroke while her right hand moved lower to gently massage his balls. The change in sensation made him gasp, bringing him back from the edge while introducing a new kind of pleasure. She grinned at his reaction as she rolled and squeezed him gently. "Please, I was getting close" Andy breathed. With a mischievous wink, she resumed jacking him with both hands, drawing another sigh from Andy as he enjoyed the feeling of her soft fingers rubbing his shaft. Andy's breathing grew increasingly ragged as the pressure built. His hands gripped the shower wall for support as Sarah worked him relentlessly toward his peak. She seemed to sense when he was close, her movements becoming more focused and deliberate. Her eyes locked onto his face, eager to watch his expression as he came. When he finally reached his climax, it was intense, thick ropes of warm white cum erupting from his cock, splashing across her toned stomach and thighs. His whole body shuddered with each pulse as she continued to stroke him through his orgasm, maintaining perfect pressure to draw out every last wave of pleasure. She watched in fascination as his seed painted her skin, her expression one of satisfaction and pride at bringing him such intense release. "Wow, that's so hot." Sarah said, looking at the impressive volume. "Someone's been storing that up, huh?" Andy closed his eyes and smiled deeply. "Yeah." he breathed. "Been a while. Thanks." He ran a hand down her shoulder, savoring the feeling of her soft, cold skin, the post-nut clarity heightening his awareness. She examined her cum-covered hands and smirked. "Hey loves!" she chirped in her best content-creator voice. "Today, I'm so excited to share this amazing new product with you!" She winked at Andy. "Make sure to swipe up for the full review!" She delicately touched her finger to her tongue, then assumed a thoughtful expression. "Hmm, nice thick consistency, slightly sweet with just a hint of salt. Ten out of ten would recommend!" She sucked on her finger erotically, then dissolved into giggles at Andy's amused expression. "Don't forget to like and follow for more cum content!" She turned the water back on, laughing as Andy visibly flinched at the cold. "Really, some ranger you are!" The water washed away the evidence of their activities, and they stepped out to dry off. Andy felt wonderfully relaxed, tension draining from his shoulders. "What about you?" he asked softly. "Don't worry about me," Sarah smiled, toweling her hair. "I don't think I could anyway. Too much tension, and;" she paused, "I'd need to feel more emotionally connected." Andy looked puzzled. "Wait, so you're comfortable showering together, giving me a handjob, and even tasting my cum, and we haven't even held hands? Or kissed? Actually," he realized, "we haven't even hugged." Sarah giggled. "Those things are about love and emotional connection," she explained. "And for me, so is sex. This?" she giggled again, mimicking a handjob in the air. "This was just making sure my fearless protector," she emphasized those words with a sultry voice "is thinking with his brain and not his cock!" She gave him a playful grin. "And; tasting a new Korean sauce. If you're really good to me, maybe I'll be trying a new Korean skincare next time." They both laughed. She paused, letting the towel drop. "Although; I wouldn't mind a hug now, if you want." Andy opened his arms and she stepped into them. They held each other, feeling the warmth of skin on skin, this simple embrace feeling somehow far more intimate than what they'd just done. Day 7, Late Night Andy lay in bed, his phone's glow illuminating his face as he scrolled through Beacon. A soft, barely audible knock at his door caught his attention. He opened it to find Crystal standing in the dark hallway. Even in the dim light cast by his phone, her stunning figure was unmistakable. She wore a delicate black lace bra that cupped and lifted her full tits, creating an enticing cleavage. A matching garter belt hugged her narrow waist, leading to sheer stockings that emphasized her long, toned legs. High-cut lace panties completed the ensemble, leaving little to the imagination. The scent of her expensive perfume, a light, floral fragrance, wafted towards him, adding to the intoxicating effect of her presence. "May I come in?" Crystal whispered, her voice barely audible. Andy nodded, stepping aside to let her enter. As she passed, he couldn't help but notice how the lace hugged the curve of her perfect, heart-shaped ass. Crystal closed the door behind her, hesitated for a brief moment, then turned to face him. "I thought I might; fulfill my end of the bargain," she said softly, her posture shifting to emphasize her curves. She took a step closer, her blue eyes locked on his. "I'm here to show my appreciation, in whatever way you'd like." Andy smiled ruefully, taking in her body but thinking about his encounter with Sarah only a few minutes ago. He knew he almost certainly wouldn't be able to get hard so soon. Not wanting to reveal this, he decided to try to play it off, raising a hand to stop her. "Hey, relax, we just got here. You don't have to worry about that right now." He forced his eyes away from her perky tits and up to her eyes. Crystal's demeanor deflated slightly, a mix of surprise, relief and disappointment crossing her face. "Are you sure?" she asked, her voice small. "I; I wanted to be useful to you. I even put on this outfit, just for you, sir." She raised her arms above her head and twirled slowly like a ballerina, showing off her body from all angles. As she rotated, Andy's eyes were drawn to her long, shapely legs. The sheer stockings accentuated every curve, from her delicate ankles to her toned calves and up to her perfectly proportioned thighs. The high-cut panties drew attention to the junction where her legs met her torso, emphasizing the enticing curve of her hips. Her backside was a work of art, two rounded globes, neither too large nor too small, but ideally suited to her frame. The lace of her panties clung to the curves, outlining the heart shape of her ass and hinting at the soft valley between. Unable to help himself, Andy reached out, giving her ass an affectionate squeeze. His hand was met with an enticing balance of firmness and give, soft enough to be incredibly inviting, yet firm enough to maintain its shape, smooth and warm to the touch. Crystal jumped slightly at the contact but quickly tried to play it off, her body instinctively pressing back into his hand for a brief moment before she caught herself. "I appreciate it, truly," Andy said. "But there's no hurry. I'm sure there will be plenty of time for that later." He paused. "If you want to be useful, maybe you could start by making us all coffee in the morning." "I see," Crystal said, turning to face him again. She took a moment to regain her composure, a small smile playing on her lips. "Well, I promise it will be the best coffee you've ever had. The most mind-blowing, hot, tight, wet coffee ever." She winked. Leaning in close, she whispered in his ear, her breath hot against his skin. "If you ever change your mind, you know where to find me." With that, she turned and left the room, the soft click of the door the only sound in the quiet night. Andy sat on the edge of the bed, running a hand through his hair as he processed what had just happened. The image of Crystal in that lingerie was seared into his mind, and he knew it would be a long time before he could forget it. Day 8, Morning The early morning silence in the consulate was profound. Andy woke to sunlight filtering through the curtains, casting long shadows across his room. The building's stillness felt almost reverential, as if the world itself was holding its breath. He rose and headed to the bathroom, splashing cold water on his face and quickly freshening up. The morning routine felt almost normal, a small piece of civilization preserved in their diplomatic sanctuary. Through the window, he could see fog rolling in from the bay, wreathing the silent city in gray. The building's old pipes groaned softly as he washed, the sound echoing through the empty corridors. Andy made his way downstairs to the break room adjacent the kitchen, settling into one of the chairs. Moments later, Crystal appeared carrying a tray with coffee and sugar. She wore loose-fitting silk pajamas that somehow managed to look both casual and elegant, the fabric draping softly over her curves. The absence of a bra was subtle but noticeable, with her perky tits shaking beautifully, and her hard nipples sticking up proudly. "I wasn't sure how you liked your coffee, sir. Unfortunately we don't have milk," she said, putting a soft emphasis on the word "sir" that sent a shiver down his spine. "This is fine, I like it black, thank you," Andy replied, reaching for the cup. "You're going to work on the map of scavenging sites in the area today, right?" "Yes sir. I'll get started on it after my yoga this morning," Crystal responded with a small smile before turning to leave. She paused at the doorway. "Enjoy your coffee, I'll be in my room if you need me." Andy sipped his coffee, appreciating its rich flavor, momentarily distracted by thoughts of Crystal, before returning to scrolling through Beacon on his phone. The posts about San Francisco painted a slowly emerging picture: survivors were gradually congregating at the Presidio, though organization remained loose. Someone had started cataloging available medical supplies across the city's hospitals. Another person was working on getting a solar array functioning at the city hall. A post from the Presidio account caught his attention, they'd designated Land's End as a mass grave site, with plans to begin proper burials soon. Several volunteers with construction equipment were already clearing space. Andy made a mental note, it would be a better option than his original plan of taking the diplomat's body to the sea. He composed a quick message to Mike: "Made it to SF. Secured shelter @ Korean consulate. How's drive north? Your mom?" A few more posts mentioned growing communities forming in Marin and the East Bay, but nothing substantial yet. Most survivors seemed to be following the same instinct, head toward major population centers, look for others, try to rebuild. The Presidio's natural defensive position and former military infrastructure made it an obvious rallying point. Andy finished his coffee, letting the now familiar routine of morning research ground him in this strange new world. The sound of footsteps on the stairs drew his attention. Sarah and Daniela appeared, both looking refreshed despite their slightly sleepy expressions. The consulate's secure walls had clearly provided them their first proper rest in days. "Morning," Sarah said, stifling a yawn. She wore her usual athletic wear, while Daniela was already dressed in camo pants and a t-shirt. "Crystal made coffee, there's some in the kitchen if you want some," Andy offered, gesturing with his empty cup. "Oh god, yes please," Sarah replied, heading for the kitchen. She paused, noticing Daniela's hesitation. "Have you never had coffee?" Daniela shook her head. "Dad said I was too young." "Well, you're basically living adult life now," Sarah said gently. "Might as well try it. Here, I'll make you one." They returned moments later, Sarah handling her cup with ease while Daniela examined hers with suspicion. She took a careful sip and grimaced. "It's; intense," she said diplomatically. Sarah laughed. "Try adding some sugar. Most people don't start with it black." Daniela followed the suggestion, her expression softening as she tasted it again. "Better," she admitted. "I can see why you like it." "Have either of you checked Beacon this morning?" Andy asked. Both shook their heads, so Andy summarized what he'd learned. They listened intently. He watched as a dark expression cast over them both when he brought up the Land's End grave. "Yeah, speaking of which," he added, his tone growing more serious, "we should probably deal with the, ah, body outside. Wrap it properly until we can take it to Land's End." "I'll help," Sarah offered, squaring her shoulders slightly. "I need to get better at handling this kind of thing. Can't be squeamish anymore." Daniela set down her coffee. "I know where the large garbage bags are. They're heavy-duty, should work until we can get something better." Day 8, Midmorning "You sure you don't want to wear something more; practical?" Andy asked, watching Sarah adjust her deep blue Lululemon set in the hallway mirror. "This is practical," she insisted, giving him a little view. The tight sports bra and leggings left little to the imagination, showing off her gentle abs and toned curves. She then covered herself in the North Face jacket he'd selected for her from their scavenged supplies. "Besides, first impressions matter. We want to seem approachable." Andy checked his holstered Glock, making sure it was secure but not too visible under his jacket. "Fine, but at least wear your boots instead of those running shoes." They'd packed their backpacks thoughtfully, bottles of antibiotics carefully wrapped in cloth, and several dozen apples from the fruit stand. "The medicine is what they really need," Andy explained as they prepared to leave, "but I think fresh fruit will mean more to them emotionally. A lot of it in the city will have spoiled by now." "Makes sense," Sarah nodded, shouldering her pack. "A little taste of normal." Andy turned to Daniela, who was studying a building layout. "You good here? Remember, no answering the door-" "Unless it's you guys, I know," she cut him off with a hint of teenage exasperation. "I'll figure out the best spots for the mines and come up with a defense plan." She pointed at a few spots she had already marked on the layout. "I've already found a few spots here." Crystal looked up from where she was marking locations on a large map of San Francisco. "I've marked three promising grocery stores within walking distance," she offered, her braless chest hanging downward as she bent over the map. "I'll have a full scavenging map ready by the evening." "Perfect," Andy said. "We shouldn't be more than a few hours. Mainly just want to get a sense of what's happening at the Presidio, make some connections." He glanced at Sarah. "Ready?" Sarah nodded, and they headed out into the quiet streets of their new city. The morning fog had mostly burned off, revealing a neighborhood frozen in time. Expensive cars sat in driveways, morning newspapers still sat on pristine lawns, and recycling bins waited patiently for a pickup that would never come. The silence was absolute except for the occasional bird call and the whisper of wind through untended gardens. "Look," Sarah pointed, "A Tesla, Model Y. And it's plugged in." Andy marked the location on his phone. "Good catch. That'll be useful later when we're looking for vehicles that don't need gas." They turned onto Jackson Street, where a dark blue Rivian R1T sat parked beneath a row of cherry trees. Andy added its coordinates to their growing list of resources. The houses stood as silent witnesses to the abrupt end of normalcy, gardens still meticulously maintained, windows spotlessly clean, patio furniture arranged for evening cocktails that would never be served. Just eight days ago, this had been one of San Francisco's most exclusive neighborhoods. Now it was a museum piece, preserved in perfect, haunting detail. "It's so weird," Sarah said softly, eyes scanning the immaculate homes around them. "Everything looks exactly like it did before. Like any minute now, people will start coming out to get their mail or walk their dogs." As they walked past another row of silent houses, Sarah glanced at Andy with a playful smile. "Sleep well?" Andy caught her eye and winked. "Very well. Mind's quite clear and focused today, thank you." "Good," she said softly, reaching for his hand and giving it a quick squeeze. "Maybe we can go for round two later today." Their fingers lingered together for a moment before separating, both of them smiling as they continued their walk through the quiet neighborhood. Movement ahead caught their attention, another woman walking alone toward the Presidio. She was in her early thirties, wearing expensive yoga pants and a Patagonia fleece that had seen better days. Her brown hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail, and she kept glancing around nervously as she walked. "Hey," Andy called out softly, not wanting to startle her. She jumped slightly anyway, then relaxed a bit when she saw Sarah. "Oh! Hi," she replied, maintaining a careful distance. Her wedding ring glinted in the morning light, though she was obviously alone. "Would you like an apple?" Andy offered, already reaching into his pack. "We just picked them yesterday." Her eyes lit up. "Really? Fresh fruit?" She stepped closer, accepting the apple with trembling hands. "Thank you. I've been living on protein bars and coconut water from my pantry." She took a bite immediately, closing her eyes briefly at the taste. "I'm Rachel, by the way." "I'm Andy, this is Sarah," Andy replied. "Heading to the Presidio?" Rachel nodded, wiping juice from her chin. "Yeah. I've been holed up in my apartment, but;" She gestured vaguely. "I figured I should see what's happening, maybe find other people. It's getting a little scary being alone. Are you two staying nearby?" "Yeah, we just got into the city," Andy said carefully. "We're a small group, set up at the Korean consulate." He made a mental note, another survivor with no immediately obvious useful skills for their core group. "Oh," Rachel said, seemingly hoping for an invitation that didn't come. "Well, I'm at 2740 Jackson if you; if anyone needs anything. Though I don't have much to offer." "Thanks." said Andy. "Let us know if you need anything as well." "Well, to be honest I could use some food. That's mostly why I'm going to the Presidio." "We don't have a ton to spare right now, but we are planning to go on some scavenging runs soon. We have a truck. If you wanted to join us, we could offer you a split of what we recover." "Oh, that would be great." said Rachel. "Let me get your Beacon handle, let me know when you decide to go." They walked together in silence for a few moments before Rachel spoke again. "Did either of you lose much family?" she asked quietly. "My husband was in New York for meetings when, you know." She twisted her ring absently. "We all lost people," Sarah said gently but firmly, cutting off that line of conversation. Rachel nodded, understanding the boundary. The walk continued in silence. They emerged from the tree line, and the main parade ground of the Presidio opened up before them. What had once been a pristine lawn had transformed into a makeshift settlement of perhaps four or five hundred survivors. Colorful camping tents dotted the grass in loose clusters, many bearing high-end outdoor brand names, testament to San Francisco's wealthy outdoor enthusiast population. Larger military-style tents had been erected at strategic points, including a prominent medical station marked by a red cross fashioned from spray paint. Two nurses in scrubs moved between cots visible through the open flaps. A row of folding tables had been set up near the old barracks, forming an impromptu marketplace. Someone had already established a basic trading post, advertising "batteries, solar chargers, and medicine." Next to it, a woman stood behind a table of sorted electrical equipment, carefully logging exchanges in a notebook. Hand-painted signs stuck in the ground advertised various needs and corresponding Beacon handles: "Needed: Electricians for solar project" "Volunteers wanted, water purification" "Medical Skills? Report to Tent 4" "Engineers needed, power grid planning" The gender disparity was immediately apparent, women outnumbered men significantly, matching the pattern they'd seen elsewhere. A few men in partial military or police uniforms walked the perimeter, rifles slung across their backs. One carried himself with particular authority, speaking into a handheld radio as he made his rounds. A group of women was setting up what looked like a communal kitchen, sorting through boxes of supplies. Nearby, someone had rigged a solar panel to charge phones and laptops, with a small crowd gathered around it. The air smelled of campfire smoke and cooking food, punctuated by the distinctive scent of unwashed bodies and physical labor. "Oh my god," Rachel breathed, taking in the scope of the settlement. "I had no idea there were this many," she noted, eyes wide. Andy studied the scene carefully, noting the mix of organization and chaos. While some basic systems were clearly being established, there was no real sense of central authority yet. Just people with useful skills trying to help where they could, while others waited for direction. A woman with a clipboard approached them, her manner friendly but professional. "Welcome to the Presidio Settlement. Are you here to join us or just checking in?" "The two of us are just checking in," Andy said, gesturing to Sarah. As another volunteer stepped forward to speak with Rachel, he continued, "We arrived in San Francisco yesterday, we've set up in the Korean consulate building. We brought antibiotics and some apples we snagged on the way here, wanted to offer them as a donation." He offered her one of the apples. "Donations are greatly appreciated," the clipboard woman said warmly, accepting the apple. "I'm Alice, by the way." "Are you a volunteer here?" Andy asked. "Yep, been here three days now. We're trying to make a directory of people in the area, if you're okay with me taking down your information?" Sarah glanced at Andy, who nodded. "Sure." "Okay, great." Alice flipped to a fresh page. "Name and age?" "Andy Rhee, 28." She nodded, writing. "We're cataloging useful skills. I'll read through the list, just let me know which apply: Medical training? Engineering? Electrical? Plumbing? Construction? Military experience? Hunting? Navigation? Survival skills? Agriculture? Animal husbandry? Radio operations? Vehicle maintenance? Water treatment? Solar installation?" "I was a park ranger before all this," Andy replied. "So yes to navigation, survival skills, and hunting. Basic first aid training. I'm good with radios too, amateur operator license." Alice made several check marks, nodding appreciatively. "That's actually really useful, we don't have many people with real wilderness experience. A lot of the survivors here worked in tech, myself included." She gestured at the camp. "Lots of programmers, not many who can track game or build shelters." "I'm sure," Andy said dryly. Alice turned to Sarah. "And you?" "I was;" Sarah hesitated, "just a biology student. UCLA, second year. Nothing really useful like Andy." "Hey, don't sell yourself short," Alice said kindly. "Most people here were also doing jobs that don't matter anymore. We're planning to set up training groups, teaching practical skills. Biology could be helpful with agriculture, medicine, lots of things." Sarah simply nodded, looking slightly relieved. "We have two others in our group," Andy added. "Daniela's fourteen, but she has extensive survival, hunting, and military training from her father, he was a Marine, and a; ah; prepper. She can do some vehicle maintenance too I think. And Crystal;" he paused, realizing he didn't know her age. "Well, she'd also need to reskill." Alice's eyebrows rose as she made notes. "A teenager with military training? Interesting." She flipped through her papers. "You should talk to Guillermo Herrera; he was in the Army. He's been trying to organize some basic defense planning for the Presidio. And Diana Wells has been looking for people with hunting experience, trying to put together expeditions to supplement our food supplies." She made a final note. "Do you have a Beacon handle? We're trying to keep a communication network going." Andy gave her his handle, which she copied down carefully. "Well, welcome to the Presidio," Alice said warmly. "We're glad to have people with real survival skills join the community. Even if they're not living here directly," she added with a smile. "Thanks. Oh also, you said 'We're trying to make a directory' earlier. Who is we? Some kind of leadership?" "Nothing formal yet, but there's a group. Mostly people with different types of expertise. I don't know all of them, but Megan Lunn is the one coordinating us. She's great, I trust her a lot." "Great, thanks." As they walked deeper into the settlement, Sarah moved closer to Andy, lowering her voice. "Are you sure it was smart to tell them so much? About where we're staying, our skills, Daniela's training?" Andy considered her question thoughtfully. "Well, here's what I'm thinking. The Presidio is almost certainly going to become the, or at least one of, the centers of power in San Francisco. It's inevitable. The location, the infrastructure, the natural defenses, and it's already starting to get established before anywhere else. If we ever get to a point where we regret having told them our information," He shrugged. "Well, by then we'd already be pretty screwed. We'd probably need to leave the city entirely anyway." "So little downside to being open?" Sarah asked, watching a group of women organizing supplies nearby. "Exactly. I think I'm going to try to talk to Megan and get myself involved early, try to shape how things develop." Andy kept his voice low but confident. "Being cooperative and open now gives us more influence later. If we tried to stay completely separate or, like, secretive, we'd just look suspicious. Then we'd be outsiders trying to affect things from the margins instead of a respected part of the community." Sarah nodded slowly, processing his logic. "If the Presidio is going to be the power here, might as well join it and be a leader within it. I get it." "Yeah. Don't worry," Andy assured her. To be continued. Based on a post by the hospital, for Literotica.

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Happy Thanksgiving! As you gather with family and friends today, we hope your hearts are filled with gratitude to God for His many blessings. While Thanksgiving is a treasured tradition for us, its roots stretch back more than 4 centuries. Who gathered at that first feast in 1621? Why were they there? And what exactly were they giving thanks for?Let's take a closer look at the remarkable story of the Pilgrims—one of enduring faith, sacrifice, and God's gracious provision.Who Were the Pilgrims?Most of us learned in grade school that the Plymouth Colony—located in present-day Massachusetts—was founded in 1620 by a group we know as the Pilgrims. These settlers, also called Separatists, longed to break away entirely from the Church of England, believing it had drifted from biblical teaching. Their commitment to worship according to Scripture set them on a courageous journey toward religious freedom.Nearby, the Puritans would establish the Massachusetts Bay Colony in 1630. While they shared many beliefs with the Pilgrims, their approach differed. The Puritans remained within the Church of England, seeking to reform it from within. Though their strategies diverged, the stories of these two groups are deeply intertwined in the early chapters of American history.The Pilgrims faced significant persecution in England for worshiping outside the established church. Holding fast to the Bible as their ultimate authority made them targets. In 1609, seeking refuge, they fled to Leiden, Holland. Yet even there, challenges persisted—some were arrested, and the freedom they sought still felt out of reach.Recognizing Europe would not offer the spiritual liberty they longed for, they made a bold and costly decision: to sail to the New World. About 120 men, women, and children boarded the Mayflower. While some passengers—known as “adventurers”—joined the voyage for economic opportunity, the Pilgrims' primary aim was clear: to worship freely and build a life rooted firmly in their faith.Hardship Upon ArrivalTheir journey across the Atlantic was long and brutal. Delays meant they arrived in November—not summer—leaving no time to plant crops. That first winter, remembered as “the starving time,” was devastating. Nearly half the group died from disease and lack of food.Still, in God's providence, the Pilgrims formed a gracious relationship with local Native Americans. A Native American named Squanto—who had learned English years earlier—became a critical ally. He taught them how to plant corn, where to fish, and how to survive in an unfamiliar land. His guidance helped bring the colony through that difficult first year.With Squanto's help, the Pilgrims planted crops in the spring of 1621 and harvested enough that fall to sustain their small community. To honor God for His provision, they invited their Native American neighbors to join them in a feast of thanksgiving.By that point, only 22 men, four married women, and 25 teenagers and children remained from the original group. Their guests nearly doubled the gathering, bringing food and friendship—resulting in what may have been America's first potluck meal. Together, they celebrated survival, provision, and the kindness of God expressed through unexpected relationships.A Legacy of FaithYears later, Plymouth's longtime governor, William Bradford, reflected on their experience in Of Plymouth Plantation, quoting Hebrews 11:13–16 to describe the Pilgrims' faith:“All these people were still living by faith when they died… They were looking for a country of their own… longing for a better country—a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for He has prepared a city for them.”For the Pilgrims, this passage captured the heart of their journey. They understood that their true home was not a piece of land or a colony—they belonged to God. Their courage, perseverance, and gratitude were expressions of that eternal hope.As we celebrate Thanksgiving today, may we remember this story of faith under pressure, resilience in hardship, and gratitude rooted in God's unwavering provision. The freedoms we enjoy—especially the freedom to worship—come through the sacrifices of those who came before us.From all of us at FaithFi, we wish you a warm, joyful, and grace-filled Thanksgiving. May your day be filled with gratitude for God's goodness and confidence in His faithful care.On Today's Program, Rob Answers Listener Questions:My question is about the so-called ‘Dollar 2.0' and the new S.1582 bill. How might this impact our currency? I'm retired and concerned about my savings.My dad recently passed away and left me and my siblings money in an IRA. We're being told we need to set up inherited IRAs to receive it. What exactly is an inherited IRA, and is that our only—or best—option?I run a construction company and also helped start a nonprofit. Can I legally pay myself a salary from the nonprofit? And can the nonprofit hire my construction company for its projects?Resources Mentioned:Faithful Steward: FaithFi's Quarterly Magazine (Become a FaithFi Partner)Sound Mind Investing (SMI)Wisdom Over Wealth: 12 Lessons from Ecclesiastes on MoneyLook At The Sparrows: A 21-Day Devotional on Financial Fear and AnxietyRich Toward God: A Study on the Parable of the Rich FoolFind a Certified Kingdom Advisor (CKA)FaithFi App Remember, you can call in to ask your questions every workday at (800) 525-7000. Faith & Finance is also available on Moody Radio Network and American Family Radio. You can also visit FaithFi.com to connect with our online community and partner with us as we help more people live as faithful stewards of God's resources. Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

#138 Want to map out some fun goals for the winter holidays? You're in the right place! In this episode of The Everyday Bucket List podcast, we explore a wide range of festive ideas for Thanksgiving, Christmas, and beyond for adults, couples, and families with kids. We touch on: Travel inspiration for winter getaways Creative ways to celebrate the season Nearby activities you can enjoy close to home Today's conversation focuses on putting together a low-stress holiday bucket list filled with standout ideas from creators like Joe Saul-Sehy, Eric Rosenberg, Chonce Maddox Rhea, and more. We dive into and revisit suggestions for Thanksgiving, Christmas, and Hanukkah—covering everything from travel plans to hometown traditions and seasonal fun. The goal is to help listeners embrace the magic of the holidays without the pressure. CLICK THE LINKS BELOW OR CUT AND PASTE THEM INTO YOUR BROWSER: This episode originally aired as #110 Read the blog post (show notes) here: https://karencordaway.com/winter-holiday-bucket-list/    Binge-listen to my Seasonal Bucket List playlist https://bit.ly/3SPiiVN  Binge-listen to my episodes about Hobbies playlist  https://spoti.fi/46Q9p4o   Listen to these episodes next: Joe Saul-Sehy on Texarkana and Travel Bucket List Adventures (Ep 2) Things to Do in Ventura, CA with Eric Rosenberg  (Ep 20) Things to Do in Brooklyn, NY & a Few Daring Bucket List Ideas (Ep 7)  How Can I Spend a Weekend in New York City? (Ep 30) NYC Itinerary + Holiday Bucket List Ideas for Christmas (Ep 109) RESOURCES: Blog Post: Holiday Bucket List: 10 Must-Do Activities in NYC Grab a copy of  The Everyday Bucket List Book https://amzn.to/3vwxz2K If you'd like to support my work, check out https://buymeacoffee.com/edbl Mr. Hassell's Brain Breaks https://www.youtube.com/@Mr.HassellPE   Connect with me: Website: KarenCordaway.com Twitter (X): @KarenCordaway https://x.com/karencordaway Pinterest: @Everyday_Bucket_List https://www.pinterest.com/EverydayBucketList/ Tiktok: @Everyday_Bucket_List https://www.tiktok.com/@everyday_bucket_list If you're enjoying this podcast, please rate and review it here. Let me know what you like about it so I know exactly what content to keep creating for you. Disclaimer: Some of the outbound links financially benefit the podcast. Using our links is a small way to support the show at zero cost to you. I only endorse products, programs, and services I use and would recommend to close friends and family. Thank you for your support. I'll be updating my podcast descriptions and show notes. Thanks for your patience as I transition.    

AP correspondent Julie Walker reports a fire on Los Angeles container ship prompts a shelter-in-place order for nearby communities.

Jacqui Felgate was deeply alarmed by this news.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

A Day in Disney's Animal Kingdom: A Complete Guide to Adventure and AweArriving early is one of the best ways to experience Animal Kingdom. As you walk across the bridge from the Oasis toward the Tree of Life, the park begins to reveal itself slowly. Birds call from hidden perches, foliage rustles, and the elaborate carvings on the Tree of Life seem to come alive in the morning light.If you plan to experience the attractions in Pandora, heading directly there is wise. The Wait time for Avatar Flight of Passage is shortest in the morning and gives you a breathtaking ride through the landscapes of Pandora. For a gentler but equally beautiful experience, Na'vi River Journey offers a serene boat ride through bioluminescent forests.Once the initial rush settles, the park becomes a haven for exploration. The Kilimanjaro Safaris ride is a must. It is one of the rare theme park experiences where no two rides are the same, thanks to the movement and moods of the animals. Morning to late morning is a great window, as many animals are active before the heat of the day.Exploring the walking trails, such as the Gorilla Falls Exploration Trail or the Maharajah Jungle Trek, brings a quieter appreciation of the park. These trails allow you to move at your own pace, read interpretive displays, and spend time watching animals in habitats that feel remarkably open and natural.If you are hungry, Animal Kingdom has some of Disney's best food options. Satu'li Canteen offers customizable bowls that are fresh and flavorful, while Flame Tree Barbecue delivers hearty classics with scenic seating by the water.By afternoon, it is time for some excitement. Expedition Everest is the park's signature roller coaster, blending speed, storytelling, and one infamous guardian of the mountain. Even if you do not usually seek out thrill rides, Everest has a unique charm that comes from its details and immersive queue.Nearby, Finding Nemo: The Big Blue and Beyond provides a beautifully staged musical break inside a cool, dark theater. For an even deeper dive into nature and culture, Festival of the Lion King remains one of Disney's most celebrated live productions, offering breathtaking vocals, acrobatics, and choreography inspired by the film.If heat or crowds rise, this is a great time to pause with a cold drink or take a slow walk through Discovery Island, stopping to look at the often-overlooked animal exhibits surrounding the Tree of Life.As sunset approaches, the park transforms. Pandora's glowing plants begin to pulse with color, and the atmosphere shifts from lively to enchanting. This is a perfect time to walk the pathways between the floating mountains, taking in the sounds and details that are easy to miss during the day.Dinner options like Tiffins or Yak and Yeti offer relaxing, flavorful meals to close out your exploration. Afterward, enjoy a final walk past the softly lit Tree of Life. The nighttime awakenings, featuring projection shows with animal themes, are subtle but magical, offering a reflective end to the day.A day in Animal Kingdom is not just about rides or shows but about stepping into a world that celebrates exploration, conservation, and imagination. It offers a pace unlike any other Disney park, encouraging you to slow down, observe, and connect with the stories and animals around you. Whether this is your first visit or your tenth, the park always finds new ways to surprise and inspire.

Dallas the Dog Fosters Trust with Magpie Family, Enhancing Their Intelligence. Jeremy Zakis chronicles how Dallas the dog has adopted a magpie family, leading to a comfortable second generation residing nearby. Dallas's kind, placid demeanor fosters trust, allowing the smart magpies to grow up around him and even play with his toys. A study suggests these positive social interactions enhance magpie intelligence, while vandal cockatoos continue stripping local trees. Guest: Jeremy Zakis.

The Time Riders: Part 8 A Date With Death. Based on a post by BiscuitHammer, in 16 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels. Into the pit. Domitia was brought through the streets, which were lined with huge crowds watching her somberly. She was attended by at least twenty soldiers, who walked in silence around her. Accompanying them were her former sister Vestals and the Pontifex Maximus, one of the greatest priests in Rome and head of the state religion. It was he who ultimately was in charge of the Virgins, both choosing them and stripping them of their office if the need arose. He walked ahead of her, his face grave. Domitia wore a simple white tunic now, but all other signs of her former life were gone. Her magnificent braids were undone, and her brown hair hung down her back shamefully. The colors she'd been allowed to wear were missing. In times past, disgraced Virgins had been excoriated, possibly just beaten with a rod, but now, in the height of mighty Rome's power, the punishment was death, for endangering the city. But no one was insane enough to spill the blood of a Vestal Virgin, disgraced or not, so her execution was not so direct. She would be sent underground into a small chamber, with a stock of food and supplies, and locked in there until she starved to death, or succumbed to sickness. They weren't killing her, per se; she was merely shunned until she died. Such was the way of Imperial Rome. Her condemnation and pronouncement of her fate had already been declared, at the beginning of this long walk, meant to be a show of penitence before the face of all Rome. And as humiliated and crushed as she was, her foremost thought was about Bonosus, and his magnificent cock. Even now, being led through the streets, her cunt was wet and ached to feel him buried inside her. Before she knew it, they had arrived at their destination, a small area in the north of the city, with a plot dug into the ground. Stopping at its edge, she looked down inside; the walls were lined with wood, probably to prevent a collapse, and there seemed to be a small stool and a cot within. She heard hysterical sobbing from nearby, and turned her head to see her mother, her birth mother, Pompeneia, weeping from behind the barricade of guards and calling out to her. Domitia's heart ached for a moment, but then she turned her gaze back to the den prepared for her. Her fate was sealed. She glanced over to look at her sister Vestals, but they refused to look at her, staring ahead resolutely. She could see tears in dear Silla's eyes, though; she had hurt the Sisterhood badly, and this was how she was to pay for it. So be it. With all the dignity she could muster, Domitia swallowed her fear and stepped forward, turning and climbing down the ladder, descending roughly ten feet until she reached the earthen floor. There were small candles burning on some stone surfaces, allowing for dim light. She looked upward, and the last thing she saw was the face of the Pontifex Maximus looking down at her, his expression unreadable, before a heavy door was slammed down and locked, cutting off all light and all sound from above. She shuddered at the sound, her stomach twisting in knots. She knew that there was no way out. The door would be weighted, and guards set outside for weeks, to prevent anyone from trying to rescue her. Despite her fear, she looked around, noting the small amount of food supplies left for her, and a small, narrow hole dug in one corner where she was to relieve herself. It wouldn't do to have a Vestal Virgin stinking of shit, even a disgraced one, and even in death. The silence was almost terrifying. She slumped into the small chair left for her, shivering and biting her lip as she felt that her cunt was still wet, the sticky lips parting slightly as she spread her legs. Thoughts of Bonosus returned to her, and she couldn't help but reach down beneath her tunic and begin rubbing her fingers over herself. The fear she felt melted away as she tickled her throbbing clit and teased her warm nether lips. Domitia closed her eyes and sighed in pleasure. If she was to die in this hateful place, it would be while cumming, thinking of that magnificent cock, spurting inside her one last time; The wall opposite her creaked and opened, the stout wooden boards pulling away. Domitia almost yelped in shock, but she didn't stop playing with herself. She stared in astonishment as a tall blonde woman came inside, carrying a torch. Following her was Nanu, a slave-girl that Domitia would have sworn belonged to her parents. "Well, hello, Domitia," the blonde woman said, smiling at her. "I'm Lady Aurora Horatia, Bonosus' mistress. Are you ready to get out of here?" Domitia nodded, but then paused, reconsidering as her fingers plunged in and out of her molten cunt. "Can you; give me just a moment here?" the former Virgin asked sheepishly. Into the Arena. Mark winced and squinted as the great gate opened, allowing light to flood into the dark tunnel. The grinding and heaving of the gears that moved the iron-reinforced barriers echoed loudly, and his heart pounded in anxiety. He was almost hyperventilating, and he could feel the blood racing through his veins. Maybe taking the adrenalin tab he'd finally found stashed behind a loose brick wasn't such a good idea. And no instructions, either. He reminded himself to punch himself in the face when he saw himself again. Hey, at least he knew he survived. He felt himself shoved roughly out into the arena, looking around in bewilderment as tens of thousands of people all shouted and jeered at him. Part of the huge stadium was cast into shadow because of the giant canvas awning that covered a full third of its seating and the arena in the center. He thought it was called the Velarium, but he wasn't sure. The roaring noise of the crowds hurt his ears, and he felt dizzy. The tab's effects apparently hadn't evened out in him yet. Maybe he should have taken it earlier? Wearing his itchy burlap loincloth, a rope belt, sandals and nothing else, Mark wandered slowly toward the center of the sandy field, his cudgel in hand. The echoing sounds of the crowd were maddening, and he felt almost dizzy. What was the purpose of this damn tab, anyway? Guards approached him. His urge was to run, but where would he go? Trembling, he stood his ground and waited for them. One of them grabbed him roughly and spun him about to face something, shoving him to one knee. Mark gasped, but then looked up and paused. On the other side of the giant stadium, sitting in a shaded box, was a man wearing purple, surrounded by guards and other dignitaries. It had to be the Emperor. The most powerful man in the world. If only he knew which one it was. Maybe he could've gotten an autograph. He chuckled bitterly at his joke, but the guard holding him told him to shut up and slapped him across the back of the head. Mark's eyes snapped open and fury flared through him. He surged to his feet and his shoulder-block knocked the guard backwards, to the astonishment of the audience. The guard and another one nearby drew their weapons and were about to kill him, when trumpets blared from all around the perimeter of the Colosseum. Mark looked around warily, seeing the reaction of the crowds as the two guards withdrew. Drums sounded out now, and more trumpets. He looked over at the emperor, his eyes going wide as he noticed a familiar, stunning blonde woman in a seat next to him and watching Mark with a smirk. Kneeling beside her was Nanu. "Jesus, Becky, there's a million people in Rome; how many did you fuck?" he muttered, scowling. He heard the gates clanking open again and spun to face them, his heart racing again. From the dark tunnel strode a stout, bald man wearing leather armour on his shoulder and a metal-studded skirt, carrying a shield and wielding a small axe. "What is this, fetish night at the Colosseum?" Mark complained loudly as the man began to run toward him. Mark braced himself, watching warily. His earlier anxiety was being replaced by anger, and a desire to either flee or fight. He'd just trust to his adrenalin and hope that his future self knew what the Hell he was doing. The gladiator ran up and swung at Mark, who ducked and came up behind his foe. Before the man could turn, Mark struck him across the back of the head with his cudgel. The man crashed to the ground face-first. The crowd was yelling in outrage and astonishment. Apparently, that wasn't supposed to happen. The man showed no signs of rising, merely stirring feebly and groaning, a huge goose egg rising on the back of his head. Hastily, Mark leaned down and pulled the round wooden shield off the man's arm and pried the axe from his grip. He stood up, trying to control his breathing. His heart felt like it would burst out of his chest. He looked around, making sure no one was approaching him from any other direction, but nobody seemed to be forthcoming. Where was his next foe? It dawned on him that he hadn't been expected to last beyond this first fight. They were probably scrambling to figure out what to do next. Doubtless they'd be finding another gladiator to throw at him. He chanced a glance up at Becky, but she sat still, simply watching him. He didn't blame her; she was supposed to have turned on him, after all. He did notice that she was keeping one leg crossed over the other and bouncing her thighs subtly. Maybe the hormones weren't completely out of her system yet. Or it could have just been normal horny Becky. Who knew at this point? A few seconds later, the gates on another section of the concave wall that surrounded him opened slowly, and out strode a tall man, wearing only a loincloth like himself and greaves, but carrying a weighted net in one hand, and a trident in the other. "Trident!" Mark exclaimed to himself, remembering. "That's what those fucking things are called! Now I can; Hey!" Mark had gotten distracted and only barely jumped out of the way of the retiarius, who thrust his trident, trying to skewer his foe. Mark angrily struck at the man's head with his axe, but he raised the haft of the weapon to block and Mark's axe broke on it. The crowd cheered wildly as it saw what happened. Mark stared dumbly at the splintered handle of his weapon, the iron head missing entirely, having spun off to land in the dust several inconvenient feet away. "What the shit?" Mark shouted angrily as he dodged another attack, keeping his shield between himself and his enemy. The trident's tines glanced off the face of his shield, coming perilously close to ripping open his side. "You mean I can't kill anyone? I'm timelocked from killing someone, even if they're trying to kill me?" He dodged again and scrambled for his cudgel, lying next to the first man he'd knocked unconscious. The man he was fighting was quick, though, and lunged in, jamming his weapon forward and trying to impale Mark through his stomach with it. Mark blocked with the shield, shuddering in panic as he felt the tines burst through the wood and punch out the back side, dangerously close to his belly. But the trident was caught now, and now the two men wrestled back and forth desperately, with the retiarius trying to free his weapon and Mark doing everything he could to prevent that exact thing. Suddenly he realized that he was doing exactly the wrong thing, and simply let go of his shield. The gladiator now held his trident awkwardly, weighed down as it was by the shield embedded on it, and with no safe recourse to get it back. He flailed at Mark with the weighted edges of his net, threatening to break smaller bones if he got in too close. Mark dashed for the cudgel again, and this time his opponent couldn't quickly follow him. Mark picked it up and tried putting the man on the defensive, skirting around him, looking for an opening to strike. The man glared at him balefully, swinging the net if Mark got too close. He's not armored and he can't use his weapon; Mark reminded himself. He flung his cudgel at the gladiator's face and surged in while the man was trying to block the unexpected projectile. His trident was weighted down with Mark's shield, so he was using the net frantically to avoid being struck. Mark plowed into the man and took him down to the ground, using his advantage in height and weight. His foe wheezed as he landed hard on his back, beginning to thrash as Mark straddled his chest and pummeled at him. A lucky punch got through and Mark snapped his foe's head to the side with a right across the jaw. He went to sleep. The crowds were shouting again angrily as Mark stood, recovering his stupid club and taking the man's net, since the shield was wrecked, and the trident was no use since he apparently wasn't allowed to kill anyone. How did time lock know, anyway? He bent over, trying to control his breathing and his pulse. His head was spinning again from the anxiety. What the Hell was his future self thinking, leaving that damn tab to use? What sort of advantage and futuristic superpower was panic? You're pumping adrenalin; it makes runners faster, it makes them run longer; it makes people stronger in a crisis; He opened his eyes and stood, turning around and looking at the thousands upon thousands of people who hated him. Fuck those people. He turned and looked at the emperor and held the weighted net in the air, scowling at the sovereign. "That all you got, asshole?" he shouted, feeling himself get angrier and more aggressive with every moment. Becky could barely hear what Mark was yelling over the noise of the crowds, but she shifted somewhat uncomfortably when she felt the mood of the man next to her darken. "So that's how he wants to play it, hmm?" muttered the emperor, resting his cheek against his hand. "Uppity thing, this boy of yours, Lady Horatia." "Oh, he is no longer mine, great emperor; this behavior, reprehensible as it might be, is unknown to me. Please dispose of the upstart as you see fit," Becky replied, knowing better than to be perceived as defending Mark. "You can count on that, my lady;” he replied, nodding absently as he made some vague motion to a signaler. "If you will excuse me, sire, I must depart for a moment," Becky said, trying to not sound urgent. The emperor looked at her quizzically for a moment: "You would miss his doom?" She made a show of blushing: "His life and death mean nothing to me now, but all this excitement has undone me, sire. I must go and relieve myself, because it wouldn't do to piss myself in your presence." "Very well, then," he said, nodding. "But try to be back soon." Becky stood and bowed before exiting the emperor's spectator box, taking Nanu with her, pulling her along by the wrist. "My lady, is now a good time to see to such functions?" asked the Egyptian girl as she followed the blonde woman. "Is Bonosus not in great danger? I thought you meant to rescue him." "I can't rescue him sitting next to that pompous ass, now can I?" Becky hissed as she strode down one of the hallways. "And keep your voice down; I don't want people to know what we're doing." "Sorry, mistress," Nanu replied, blushing. She allowed herself to be dragged along for several seconds before asking her next question. "What are we doing, exactly?" "You'll see soon enough," Becky said grimly, her blue eyes flashing as she pushed through the throngs of people in the hallways that ran around the length of the Colosseum. "I hope you wore your cock-sucking lips today;” The huge man lumbered towards Mark; he was well over half a foot taller than Mark, and a whole lot heavier. Beneath his layer of fat, he was obviously muscular and very strong. He carried a shield in one hand, a wicked sword in the other. His loincloth was made of tough leather, covered in metal studs. His wide belt was also braced with metal. His right arm was protected from shoulder to wrist by a cauldron and gleaming steel plates. On his head was an intimidating helmet, the face mask looking like something out of "Mad Max: Fury Road," with a peaked top that sported what looked like a curved metal blade or sail. It looked like he was wearing a can opener on his head. "Fuck;” Mark whined to himself as he stood his ground, trying to figure out how he was going to keep from getting killed. He held his cudgel and his net, trying to look threatening, but the gorilla coming at him didn't seem to care. He jumped out of the way as the Samnite slashed with his sword. He tried to move in, but was sent flying backwards when the gladiator suddenly slammed the front of his shield into him. Landing on his back, Mark only had a split second to roll out of the way as the point of his foe's sword drove down into the dirt where'd he'd only just been. He kicked at the man's leg, but it held, and he scrambled away, looking to put some distance between them. "Hey, Jason Voorhies!" he called out, waving his club in the air. "Over here, candy-ass!" The gladiator turned his head to look at him while trying to wrench his blade from the hard-packed earth. He finally did so and stood upright, rolling his shoulders and striding forward again. He slashed with his blade, but Mark dodged once again and then threw his net over his foe. The Samnite got caught in it, but didn't go down, trying angrily to remove it. Mark jumped on his back and began hammering away with his stupid little club. The giant staggered about, flailing wildly to dislodge his smaller foe. The jeering from the crowd was punctuated with increasing amounts of laughter at this ridiculous spectacle. Mark hung on for dear life with one arm wrapped around the man, his other hand whacking away at the foe's helmet. But his own net was preventing the blows from being fully effective, despite the metallic ringing of his strikes. Unable to reach the pest on his back or use his weapons, the huge man simply fell backwards, hoping to crush Mark. It wasn't graceful, and it wasn't pretty, but it did stun Mark long enough to stop him from hitting his foe with his cudgel. "Oh fuck;” Mark wheezed as the Samnite rolled off him and struggled to get up while removing the netting. Mark slowly crawled away, shaking his head to stop the world from spinning. The jellied tissue that was once his lungs was on fire, and strained to get oxygen circulating through him. He heard his foe growl in frustration, and then he felt himself getting grabbed by the scruff of the neck and the back of his loincloth before being hauled completely off the ground; The crowd went wild as the gladiator threw Bonosus bodily to the ground, as if trying to crush his bones with the impact. He picked him up again and dashed him to the hard-packed earth, having given up on removing the net. Mark protected himself from the slams as best he could, but it wasn't helping much, given the strength of the man who was mauling him. The fourth time getting slammed to the ground was about Mark's limit, and the world had become nonsense around him; everything sounded like it was being played in drunken slow motion. His vision swam, and he really just wanted to take a damn nap. He shook his head trying to clear it, remembering that Becky had bought him time, so he'd best not waste it getting rag-dolled by this shit stain. While the Samnite was reaching down for him, Mark managed to roll onto his back and kicked up, hard, between the gladiator's legs. His foot found the man's crotch, and while the force of the blow was lessened by the net's interference, his foe still groaned, and his knees bent. Mark kicked again, and then once more, having finally staggered his foe. The man sank to his knees, holding his crotch. Mark couldn't see his face, but he was obviously in a great deal of pain. Mark staggered to his feet, ignoring the crowd's jeers and screams, focusing only on his foe. The gladiator was now protecting his crotch with his hands, so Mark couldn't kick him there, so he slammed the bottom of his foot into the larger man's chest, knocking him on his back, where he lay moaning. Mark stamped on his crotch for good measure. "Stop, dammit!" wailed the man. "Quit kicking me in the cock!" "Fuck you!" Mark spat, scowling. His chest was on fire and his entire body throbbed in pain. "You were trying to kill me, fuckface! Why should I give a shit what you think?" "I'll stop, I'll stop!" the man pleaded, writhing under the net and totally at Mark's mercy. "Just don't wreck my cock, I was gonna fuck tonight!" "Yeah, right," Mark sneered. "Who were you gonna fuck?" Mark spun as he heard an ululating war cry, and his eyes widened as he saw a woman running toward him, carrying a whip in one hand and a sword in the other. Her spiked hair was wet with blue woad paste, and her eyes were mad with battle lust. "Her;” the Samnite indicated. Becky and Nanu were both on their knees, mouths bobbing back and forth on the cocks of the men they had leaning back against the wall, groaning and pumping their hips. Neither of the men could believe their luck; they thought this would be another boring day for measly pay. From up here, they couldn't even see the action down in the arena well. Sulus and Catullus, two former merchant marines, were charged with keeping the Velarium in place during the spectacles. Their extensive experience with canvas sails made them ideal for this tedious but essential work. At least, that's what they were told, despite the thirty asses a day they received proclaiming otherwise. So imagine their good fortune and delight when this patrician woman and her slave-girl happened to wander on up, espy the two men, and offer to suck their cocks, without even charging them anything! Talk about Saturnalia in Quintilis! Nanu moaned as she swirled her tongue around the head of the cock she was sucking on, holding it by the base of the shaft, her eyes closed. This seemed like an odd time to be doing something like this, but Lady Aurora had been quite firm that it was part of the plan. So be it. Besides, that strange little patch her new mistress had affixed to the skin under her arm was making her so horny right now. Kneeling beside the slave, Becky's free hand reached out and took hold of Nanu's, giving it a squeeze. They continued pushing their wet mouths along the lengths of the throbbing shafts, both girls getting wetter and more aroused with each passing moment. Nanu pulled her mouth off the cock for a moment, sucking in air and breathing heavily as she massaged it with her tiny hand. Her face was flushed as she looked over at her new mistress, her eyes glazed with desire. Becky nodded her assent. Nanu stood quickly and lifted the long trails of her garment, exposing her ass and cunt to the man she'd been servicing. She turned around and leaned back against him, squirming her ass against his cock, making him moan loudly. With great need, she grabbed hold of his tool and speared herself down on it, sighing loudly before beginning to wiggle back and forth on him, shivering as he slid in and out of her. Becky rose to her feet soon after, moving around to face Nanu and leaning forward, with her hands on the slave-girl's shoulders and looking into her eyes. The marine got behind Becky and gripped her hips, pushing inside her. Becky moaned into Nanu's mouth as she kissed her, their tongues tangling hungrily while their tits squirmed and rubbed together. The men held tight and fucked the two women as hard as they could, looking to cum as quickly as possible. Hips smacked against asses and moans grew louder. Becky and Nanu now panted through an open-mouthed kiss, their hands groping one another in need. The Egyptian girl pressed back as hard as she could on the cock she was impaled on, while Becky ground in eager circles, yearning for release. Seconds later they were wailing into one another's mouths, shuddering in ecstasy as the men groaned and began pumping cum inside their wanton pussies. Becky and Nanu were relentless, milking the men for all they were worth, until they slumped to the stone floor, almost insensate from the orgasms these strange women had given them. Straddling the marines now, and facing into one another, Becky and Nanu continued kissing and fondling, even as they moved slowly up and down on the rigid poles they'd been fucking. "Umm, mistress;” Nanu said dreamily, lost in Becky's blue eyes. "I know, my love," Becky murmured, giving Nanu many light kisses on the lips, as if she was unable to help herself. "But we must; smooch; get ready to; do our part; smooch; and rescue Mark;” Nanu pulled back from the kiss and looked up in confusion. "Mark?" "Bonosus," Becky corrected herself, waving it off. "I'll explain later. Now help me get ready;” The crowd was howling with laughter as Mark ran around the arena in a panic, chased by the gladiatrix, who cracked her whip at him, screeching for him to get his ass back there so she could kick it. Mark didn't need oppositional defiance disorder to ignore her demands. The tip of that whip was cracking awfully close behind him. The Samnite he'd downed earlier grunted and flopped down again as Mark stamped on his back while running over him. "Don't try to get up, asshole, you promised!" Mark shouted angrily. "If you do, I don't care if she's trying to kill me, I'll come over there and kick you in the balls so hard you'll be spitting them out!" "Okay! Okay!" the man shouted back, lying on his stomach and waiting. "But I hope she catches you and rips your skin off to wear as a cloak!" "Oh, go sit on a Doric column!" Mark grumbled, deking to the left to try to throw her off. At this point, the crowd was chanting something, what he could only Assume Was Her Name "Achilleia! Achilleia!" "What is that, Latin for Psycho Hose-Beast?" Mark complained loudly, noticing that he had not gained any ground on his foe. He only had the stupid cudgel, whereas she had a wicked sword and a goddam whip. He had the distinct impression he couldn't tire her; she had the look of a woman on a murder mission; her eyes were wild with bloodlust, the scream escaping her lips singing of his gory doom. "She's the greatest female gladiator in Rome!" called out the Samnite, still watching from his confines beneath the net. "She's been more than a match for many men who have fought her!" "Singing my praises doesn't get you more cunt than normal, Rullus!" Achilleia snapped, still chasing her quarry. Gods, this slave could run! Pity she had to kill him, he was well-built and had a great ass! She pressed harder, now swiping with her sword, since using her whip slowed her down some. Like most gladiators, she was wearing little armour, only leather greaves, a leather loincloth, an abbreviated leather cuirass that exposed her midriff but held her tits in place, and a leather cauldron and brace on one arm. A steel fillet around her forehead glittered with glass beads, off-setting her wild blue death-hawk hair. She whooped in triumph as the tip of her sword tore open the back of his loincloth and it fell away, leaving Mark completely exposed as he fled for his life. The crowd was laughing hysterically again. "Dammit, I hate freeballing when I'm running!" he shouted angrily, grimacing as his balls slapped around his thighs. "You have no idea how uncomfortable this is!" "Stop running then, coward!" Achilleia taunted, enjoying the view even as she tried to kill him. "I only offer the bliss of death! One red kiss of my blade across your throat, slave, and you; Off!" Done with running, Mark stopped very suddenly and braced himself, hunkering down so that Achilleia plowed into him, completely unprepared. She staggered backward and Mark whirled and grappled onto her, preventing her from using her weapons. The gladiatrix snarled and tried to knee him in the crotch, but he kept his legs judiciously in the way. They tottered and staggered about, vying for control, until they tripped over the Samnite, who was helpless to avoid them. "Oh Fuck!" he wheezed as they landed on him and then rolled off, still tussling. "Welcome to my world, dickface!" Mark shouted back at him, still wrestling with Achilleia, who meant to murder him repeatedly. Out of desperation, and with the effects of the tab still coursing through his blood, he picked her up bodily and threw her to the ground, her sword clattering away. He dropped to his knees instantly, smacking her in the face with his scrotum. "Teabag!" he shouted before whirling around and grappling onto her, trying to subdue her. He hated the thought of punching a woman, but she was trying to eviscerate him, so an exception might be in order. Achilleia was a veteran of the gladiator pits, however, and not so easily dealt with. She recovered and thrashed around, screeching and trying to claw her foe's eyes out. He swatted the whip from her hands before she could strike him with it. Mark found her increasingly difficult to manage, using his weight on top of her body to keep her in place. That plan went south, however, when she wrapped her legs around his waist and began rocking back and forth, until she was on top. They rolled around in the dust while the crowd went insane. Mark had her arms gripped tightly, out to the sides, which forced her body down closer to his. The wild look in her eyes chilled his blood, and she tried to bite his neck repeatedly, to tear his throat out. He countered frantically by using his head to shove hers away from his tender skin, and the result must have looked ridiculous, the two of them pushing and sparring with their heads. "Gurr, let; me; kill; you!" Achilleia hissed, struggling to maintain her balance over her stronger foe. "I'll make it quick, I promise!" "It'll feel good, I promise!" Mark sneered, butting the side of her head to knock it away. "Why would I make this easy for you?" "Gonna; rip you; a new;” Achilleia strained, pushing down harder. She then paused, her eyes going wide with shock. "What; gods, do you have a hard-on?" Mark used the momentary pause to roll her over, her arms pinned beside her head. Achilleia's eyes were still wide as she goggled up at him. Unfortunately, yes, he was hard again. Either he was developing some sort of danger fetish, or the hormones weren't quite as out of his system as he thought. They struggled and thrashed, with the look of shock on Achilleia's face becoming one of irritation, then a weird determination. She wasn't fighting about so much, and she seemed to be pushing with her hips, almost pumping with them. She glared and bit her lip. The roaring of the crowds was slowly abating as they watched the proceedings on the arena floor. What was happening? Seconds ago, the gladiatrix had been trying to kill the slave, now they were; what were they doing? Mark kept her pinned beneath him, and couldn't help but join her in squirming as they glared into one another's eyes. Achilleia was undulating her hips now, her upper body virtually motionless. Mark grimaced at the feel of the toughened leather around her middle grinding on his hard-on. "Dammit;” Achilleia growled. "Let go of my god-rotting hand so I can move my loincloth!" Mark took a chance and let go of one of her hands. It flashed down and pulled aside the leather garment before taking hold of his hard cock and guiding it to her entrance. Without another thought, Mark pushed down, deep inside her. Achilleia wailed loudly and wrapped her legs around his waist again, pulling him in deeper still. The entire Colosseum throng had gone silent as the spectators stared, stunned by what they were witnessing. All that could be heard, echoing through the giant stadium, was Achilleia's cries of pleasure. Was this really happening? "Achilleia? What the Hell?" the Samnite yelled in outrage, his girlfriend getting fucked by Rome's most hated slave mere feet away from him. "Shut up, Rullus, he's fucking huge!" Achilleia shouted back, pumping her hips wildly against Mark. The gladiator did as he was told and simply sulked, turning his head to look elsewhere. The emperor watched out stonily, not at all impressed with the turn of events his grand spectacle for the people had taken. He'd heard of the blasphemy this upstart slave had committed, and this was supposed to be a damnation of a great sin. Now it was another blasphemy. And where the Hell was Lady Aurora? He napped his fingers and one of his servants leaned in close, to see what his master wanted. "Have them all killed;” growled the emperor, determined to save face somehow. Mark thrust harder and harder, while Achilleia yelped and bucked beneath him, holding onto his back and with her legs still wrapped around his back. Nearby, Rullus was resting his helmeted head on his hand and rapping his fingers against the packed earth, trying to look bored. Not difficult for a man tangled inside a net. "Any time, you two;” he grumbled. "Oh, cram it, Linzer-head," Mark spat. "Say one more thing and I'll fuck her ass next!" "Oh!" Achilleia wailed, grinding and thrusting against Mark desperately. "I'm gonna; I ‘ Then she seized up and pushed up with all her strength, clenching her teeth so hard they might have cracked. As Rome watched on in stunned silence, the gladiatrix shrieked to the gods and came, hard. Mark shuddered and groaned, pumping profuse amounts of cum deep inside her clenching cunt. He thrust madly, emptying himself into her. Finally, they were both spent. Achilleia lay still beneath him, her chest rising and falling, skin glistening with sweat. Mark, exhausted, rested his forehead against her shoulder, too tired to defend himself if she tried to kill him now. Fortunately, his death was the farthest thing from her mind. Seconds of silence passed, before the thousands of spectators in the stands erupted into a wave of cheers and catcalls. Mark smiled and chuckled tiredly. "That can't be good;” he mused. "Nope," she agreed, sighing and biting on a knuckle as the last of the orgasm pulsed through her. "After that, they're certainly going to kill us. All of us. It doesn't matter; I would have died in the arena eventually. At least this way, I died with a cock in me and cumming hard." "Don't be so certain about that;” Mark replied, finally looking up and seeing all the gates opening and dozens of legionaries rushing toward them, spears at the ready. "Ah, I don't like this!" Nanu whined as she shimmied out along one of the corbels that held the vast awning in place. She held on like grim death as she edged forward, a small but sharp knife in one hand. "You can do it, my love," Becky said encouragingly, watching from their original position where they'd fucked the two marines. Both men were still snoozing, but she had tied their hands and feet for extra security. She would have done Nanu's job herself, but she was taller and heavier than the Egyptian girl, who stood a much better chance of succeeding than she did without snapping the braces or corbels. "Look straight ahead and ignore the sounds below." So of course, Nanu looked down. "He's fucking!" she hissed, her eyes narrowing. "He's fucking the gladiatrix that's supposed to be killing him! I may kill him! He doesn't need saving, I do!" "Nanu, focus!" Becky insisted. "Get to your position and await my signal." "Yes, mistress;” sighed the slave-girl sullenly. Once in position, Nanu held on tight, trying not to think about the dizzying heights she was suspended from. Everyone seemed like ants far below her. Except for Bonosus and his whore of a gladiator; she could see them very clearly, to the place where she could make out his throbbing cock as it thrust in and out of her unworthy cunt. He had a lot of explaining to do when this was over. The crowd was watching in stunned silence, unable to believe what they were seeing. But then Becky and Nanu heard the gladiatrix wailing as she came. Bonosus' groans of pleasure burned in Nanu's ears, while Becky just rolled her eyes, sighed and tapped her foot impatiently. Thunderous cheers erupted from the crowd; they'd come for blood and been rewarded with live pornography! Nanu was scowling still, when she noticed the gates opening and legionaries pouring out of them, converging on the five figures in the center of the arena. "Mistress;” Nanu said nervously, her anxiety for Bonosus' well-being overcoming her jealousy. "Now, Nanu!" Becky yelled, making sure her slave could hear her. She was already working frantically to cut through the thick ropes in one of the giant pulleys that moved the Velarium into position. Nanu, meanwhile, was sawing at the edge of the rope that held the corbel she was on in place. She gritted her teeth as she watched the steel knife bite through the thick fiber cable until finally it snapped free. The rope whipped about as it unraveled, causing a cascade of loosening canvas across the broad length of the famed awning. Becky, meanwhile, finished cutting through the rope in the giant pulley she'd selected, dodging hastily as it snapped and flailed about before spinning away. The giant canvas sheets comprising the Velarium buckled and gave way, while the corbels and rope masts retracted rapidly. "Mistress!" Nanu keened, holding on like grim death as the corbel she was on, no longer held in place by the giant ropes, snapped back toward the solid stone walls of the Colosseum. "Jump, Nanu!" Becky called out, standing on the edge of the wall and holding her arms out. "I'll catch you! Trust mistress!" Nanu squeezed her eyes shut and jumped; Becky wheezed as she caught the flying girl, tumbling to the floor with her and holding her tight. Nanu was shivering in her grasp, so Becky just held her for a few seconds and caressed her raven hair. The slave-girl looked up at her savior and nodded, so Becky stood them up, listening to the shrieks of panic as the Velarium floated down relentlessly. "Teamwork, Nanu!" she said excitedly as they stood. "Let's see what happens next!" In the Arena. Mark faced one direction warily, while Rullus and Achilleia stood behind him, squaring off against other legionaries who were closing in. The original gladiator and the retiarius were also conscious and now stood with them, brandishing what weapons they could. Mark felt silly sporting only his cudgel, but it seemed dumb to not let the gladiators have the weapons they were trained with. His cock was still hard, and leaking cum from the tip. He saw Achilleia slowly turning her head to look down at it longingly. "Eyes front, Achilleia!" he snapped, not in the mood to die. She returned to glaring balefully at the encroaching soldiers. There must have been a hundred of the legionaries. That was twenty-to-one odds. He decided to not mention that to his enemies-turned-allies, since he wasn't sure if they understood ratios in any event. If their math was as poor as their hygiene, why bother? "When I thought I'd die in the emperor's sight, this isn't how I pictured it," Rullus growled, brandishing his sword. "I hadn't envisioned dying for that cocksucker at all," Achilleia replied, spitting in contempt at the foes in front of her. "Damned if I'm gonna give him the satisfaction of a clean kill. People will remember this day, to his embarrassment!" The legionaries advanced, the circle tightening. They were protected by their large scutum body shields, and their spears pointed threateningly at the little rebel group. Mark wasn't sure what good he would do here, since he was armed with a club smaller than his dick, and he was the only untrained gladiator. But then he noticed rippling movement above, looked up and grinned. The velarium became dislodged from its moorings and like a vast sail or flag, began floating down over the stadium. People noticed, began screeching in panic, and stampeding. "Right on, Becks;” he said with satisfaction as his day began to look up. The emperor looked up, scowling as he saw the giant canvas sheet descending, fluttering menacingly as it enveloped the upper levels of seating. Panic ensued, with people scampering around pell-mell, trying to escape. "I really hate the gods;” he thought darkly as the canvas touched down around him and everything went to shit. Becky, standing on the edge of the wall and looking down over the chaos and mayhem she had caused, with tens of thousands thrown into panic, cackled gaily and clapped her hands before yanking down her top to expose her tits and holding her arms wide and yelling loudly across her kingdom of madness. "Are you not entertained?" she shouted, reveling in her triumph. God, she'd always wanted to use that line. "C'mon, c'mon, c'mon!" Mark shouted as he and his new allies raced down the hallway, shooing everyone in front of him. "Faster, if you wanna live!" The legionaries had forgotten all about the little group of rebels once the madness ensued, racing toward the emperor to rescue him. Mark used the opportunity to escape, bringing his former foes with him. He wasn't terribly interested in seeing them die, and they might prove very useful in getting out of here in one piece. Rullus had led them through a small, little-known door in the wall of the arena, one used generally only by pit masters to monitor the proceedings. His titan frame barely fit in it, but he led the way dutifully. "Where are we going?" Achillea asked, happy to be escaping, but at least wanting to know what the plan was. She had her whip and her sword in hand again. "The most convenient, flat and open space you know of beneath the Colosseum," Mark replied, hurrying along behind her. "A place almost no one knows about or uses." "One of the old training spaces," grunted Rullus. "It hasn't been used in years. Follow me!" Their course took them deeper beneath the stadium, through winding halls and narrow corridors and staircases. They finally reached a wide chamber, in the middle of which stood Becky, Nanu and Domitia. The former Vestal and the slave-girl seemed stunned to see the small party approaching, and the gladiators gaped as Lady Aurora and her slave ran into one another's arms, kissing deeply and feverishly, speaking in some unknown tongue. "Right!" Mark said, finally disengaging from Becky's tongue as he looked around, eyes flashing with determination. "I know this is going to sound weird, but I need you all to trust me. We're going to get you out of here, as quickly as we can." "How?" asked the Retiarius, looking about warily. "They'll find us eventually!" "I know, and what I'm going to say will sound like magic, but just run with it, okay?" Mark replied, walking over to the Holmes Field Device, which Becky had been kind enough to retrieve. He wasn't sure how, but she was better with this temporal shit than he was. And they trusted one another by now. "This contraption will get us out of here, but it's not big enough for all of us at once. I'm gonna take Lady Aurora and Domitia first, then come back for a few more, then the last load." Rullus nodded: "You spared my life, and I entrust you with it. Achilleia and I will go last, holding the room if the enemy comes." "Oh, Rullus;” Achilleia sighed, looking up at the hulking gladiator, her expression a dreamy one, before she suddenly scowled and smacked him on the back of his helmeted head. "You romantic asshole." Mark left them to argue while he hustled Becky and Domitia onto the platform, which was already switched on, lights and readings blinking around the surface. Becky swatted Domitia's hand as she tried to touch a dial. "You know where we're going?" he asked, hoping she had a better handle on this than he did. She nodded, smiling. "Leave it to me, Mark. I think you'll like this solution;” The climate was certainly a change from that of Rome, but it was also a pleasant experience in its own right. The city around them, built of red brick, sandy-colored stone, and studded with stately palm trees, reminded Mark of eastern cities in every movie he'd ever seen. Beyond the walls stretched endless expanses of desert, in which the city stood as a shining jewel in a vast sea of scorching sand. He didn't know why Becky knew to park the machine where she did, but he also knew she had figured out how to use his Holmes Field Device on her own, so he wasn't questioning it. Safe from prying eyes, and after two more trips back to the Colosseum to gather the other rebels, Mark now found himself in an ancient temple in the shape of a ziggurat, with priestesses standing in front of them and bowing. Unlike the Vestals, the white garments of these priestesses were delightfully spare, exposing more than it covered. "Lady Aurora Horatia," one of them said humbly. "Your timing is fortuitous, and we gladly accept your offer. Domitia will be given a new life as a priestess of Nanaya, or as she is known in your tongue, Suadela." The priestesses all walked up to Domitia and kissed her, welcoming her into their sisterhood. The former Vestal shed tears, not in sorrow, but because she had a new beginning. Nanaya, as the goddess was known in this far-flung province, was an ancient Sumerian goddess of sensuality and lust. When the Romans had conquered the land, they readily identified her with Suadela, to keep the peace. The priestess smiled at Mark and Becky again. "And for your generous donation of gold, we will take on your four friends here, to guard our temple, as the garrison makes no effort to do so. They are now, in their own way, lifelong servants and devotees of the goddess." The four gladiators beamed proudly. Since serving Nanaya, even as guardians of her temple, meant food, lodging and getting laid by her harlot-priestesses, they were more than amenable to the idea. "Lady Aurora," Domitia intoned, taking Becky's hands in hers and smiling slyly. "Will you consent to Bonosus and yourself being the first to receive my blessings as a priestess of Nanaya?" "I wouldn't have it any other way, my dear;” Becky purred, pulling Domitia into her arms and kissing her deeply. A small villa in Roman Italy; Mark sipped wine from a goblet while Becky lay nearby on a couch, wearing nothing while Nanu sat on a small stool and massaged her feet. The sultry afternoon suited everyone, and they were finally at peace. "Helluva trip, Becks," Mark mused, draining his glass and then pouring more for himself. "You've gotten really good with the Holmes Field Device now. I seriously thought it was me who left the adrenalin tab for my discovery under the Colosseum, but it was actually you." "Sorry to scare you there," Becky sighed, as Nanu worked on her toes individually, sometimes even kissing them as she rubbed oil into them. "I found them in our tab supply, and thought it was our best bet. I just jumped behind a few hours when no one was around and stashed them in that cell for you." "So it wasn't even me coming back from the future to save myself," Mark chuckled. "Here I was so confident that I'd lived, that I couldn't be killed because future-self was looking out for me, but no, it was current you. So I could've been killed at any point, even if time lock kept me from killing anyone else." "It was a little bit messy, but you did survive, and that's what counts." Becky pointed out, caressing one of her tits lazily while enjoying Nanu's exquisite touch. "So what're we gonna do with her?" Mark asked, referencing the Egyptian slave-girl. Nanu had gotten used to her mistress and her manservant speaking in this weird, harsh language, and thought nothing of it anymore; when they needed her, they spoke Latin or her own tongue to her. Becky sighed contentedly and puddled further into the couch. Nanu's foot massages were utter bliss. "I was considering letting her stay here, and simply look after this little villa I bought for me. Whenever we visited, we'd just come back as close to the time we left as possible, but I have no idea if we could guarantee time snarls not getting in the way. So I'm bringing her home with me." Mark raised an eyebrow. "That a good idea? Or even possible?" Becky shrugged. "If she can't be brought with us, the Holmes Field Device won't work, right? So we care for her here. If it does allow it, I'll keep her with me in my house and teach her about her new world. I'll just say she's a foreign student bunking with me." "Literally, I might add." Mark quipped, holding up his goblet and winking. "Oh, you," Becky giggled while Nanu shed her clothes and crawled over Becky, straddling her hips and beginning to squirm their pussies together slowly. "I don't think she's gonna give up on the notion of being my slave-girl any time soon; it seems to make her feel safe. If she asks about you as a slave, I'll say I freed you." "Well, I was pretty enslaved to you for a while there," Mark chuckled. "Funny, I remember being so in love with you while those tabs were in effect, and I remember it fondly. But at this point, I'm just back to feeling like you're my dear friend, and I love you, just not in love any more, ya' know?" Becky sighed and nodded as she placed her hands gently on Nanu's tits and caressed them while undulating beneath the slave-girl. "I know what you mean. Talk about exhilarating, right? We should do that again at some point, just for funsies." "I'm in," Mark agreed, as his cock hardened from watching the two girls make love. He put down his wine, stood up and moved in behind them, kneeling at the bottom of the couch and sinking his cock deep inside Becky, making her moan as he started to slide in and out of her. "And what about our other acquisitions?" he asked, caressing and squeezing Nanu's ass while he fucked his Physics teacher. "Uh, the clothes we'll keep at my place, for future use," she breathed, loving the feel of Nanu's moist cunt on hers while Mark fucked deeply. She felt Nanu shiver and gasp as Mark pulled out of her and pushed into the slave-girl. "And I bought those big amphorae of Falernian wine, there's twenty-six liters in each. We'll bury them where we know nature has never been disturbed back in our time, and then retrieve them. Voila, Roman wine for dinner every night." "I'm gonna have fun explaining that to my parents;” Mark chuckled as he slid back into Becky, making her cry out. Dinner with Family. Dhallyla stared at the liquid in her glass in wonder while her family sat at the table for dinner. It was quite unlike anything she'd ever tasted before. "Mark, what; what did you say this was called again?" she asked. He shrugged as he ate. "It's a Roman-style wine, called Falernian. Lots of people are recreating ancient alcohol recipes now, so I thought we'd give this a shot. Pretty nice, hmm?" "Very strong," his sister Roxy rasped as she put down her wine glass and made a bit of a face. "Very, very strong." "That's why the Romans and Greeks mixed their wine with water," he chuckled. "Some Roman talked about not being able to bring an open flame near wine because it could catch fire. So I mixed it with water, like the instructions said. Sorry if it's still strong." "Where did you get this again?" his father asked. "Ren Faire," he said easily. "All sorts of brewers and people showing off their wine and beer skills these days at them, so I thought I'd give it a shot, ya' know? Bought a couple of bottles." "It's certainly different, but I can grow to like it," his mother mused. "Make sure you get more before we run out." "I can do that," Mark replied cheerfully. Later that night, he was sitting at his desk in his room, surfing for eras to visit during their next adventure, when the door to his room clicked shut. He turned his head to see his sister leaning back against the door, looking at him pointedly. "Something I can do for you, Rox?" he asked plainly, keeping his eyes on his research. "Now that you mention it, yeah," she said, folding her arms and wearing that insufferable smirk of hers. She never stopped reminding him who the elder sibling was. "So I did some looking around online, and there hasn't been a Ren Faire within five hundred miles of us in the last six months." Mark paused in his surfing and slowly turned to look at his sister. "So," she said, walking slowly toward him. "I figure it's about time you told me what the Hell is really going on;” Loose ends, scores to settle, a moral quandaries abound! It's Your Own Fault You Snooped! Mark didn't speak for several seconds, trying his best to not gape at Roxy. She'd always been somewhat suspicious of him when he did just about anything, but the fact that she'd done actual research this time was something new. She had played her hand, and he was cornered. But still, he found himself not sure what to say. "Well, c'mon, you little trouser snake," moving away from the door and sauntering toward him. She could tell she'd caught him dead to rights about something, but now she needed to find out what it was. "Ya' might as well 'fess up, because I somehow doubt you want mom and dad to know what you're up to." The mere thought brought a shiver to Mark and left a cold sweat on his brow. He swallowed, trying not to panic. Roxy had less mercy in a sibling confrontation than Mike Tyson had in the ring. He thought of the number of times she'd beaten his ass for tattling on her when they were younger, and how she'd always get some brutal form of revenge he was unlikely to forget. And he dreaded the thought of how she could screw this up for him. "I'm almost not wanting to find out, at least for a while, because watching your mind flop around in panic is kinda fun," she said, smirking as she stopped in front of him and leaned forward. "But I need to make a decision about whether the 'rents oughta know, so let's speed this up, okay?" She then turned and sat on the edge of his bed, leaning back on her hands, one leg crossed over the other as she looked at him pointedly. "Spill it, little brother." His mind raced. What could he tell her? She'd caught him in a flat-out lie that he had acquired his Falernian wine from a Ren Faire, and had no doubt pieced together that his other recent exotic acquisitions were likewise not from where he'd claimed. So what were her suspicions? She no doubt was assuming, quite reasonably, that he was involved in some illicit activity that

The Time Riders: Part 6 An Orgy In Imperial Rome. Based on a post by BiscuitHammer, in 16 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels. Another Time Excursion. "How's your head?" Becky asked as they walked down the hallway, gazing in wonder at the ornate mosaic that covered the floor and stretched ahead of them. The walls, no doubt made of brick, were covered in plaster, upon which colorful (and often erotic) frescoes were painted. While the clothing she was wearing in theory resembled the stola and other clothes worn by Roman women, hers was considerably abbreviated, if not downright scandalous. The white garment hung off her sensual curves, spilling away from her voluptuous tits, which could be seen through the mostly diaphanous material. Gold bracelets and bangles adorned her arms and a thin gold chain with tiny jewels sat on her ankle. She was wearing her golden-blonde hair up atop her head, but playful wisps and curls hung down in places, giving it a sassy and almost playful look. A gold-colored belt cinched in at her tiny waist, making her bust look even bigger. Mark grimaced and lightly thumped the heel of his palm against the side of his head, as if trying to jar his brain loose. "It kinda hurts, to be honest, like a buzzing headache," he muttered, waiting for his eye to stop twitching. "Who'd have thought getting advanced cybernetics installed in your noggin would hurt?" "Oh, come now, you're hardly Steve Austin," Becky chided, smiling at his outfit while they walked. "It was just a little bio-chip installed into your Broca's area to help you get by quickly with the whole language thing." "Well, if Latin is supposed to sound like the white noise on a grandpa TV combined with a mosquito buzzing in your ear, then it's working," Mark groused, wiggling his jaw to see if opening up his ear canals helped at all in getting rid of this unwelcome phenomenon. "How long did they say it usually lasted?" "Just an hour," Becky replied, stopping and fiddling with Mark's tunic, adjusting it to show off his handsome physique to best effect. The simple leather belt hung loosely on his small waist, more for contrast than anything. He was wearing very simple sandals on his feet. She hadn't had to do very much to his dark hair to achieve the look she wanted, merely tousling it after rubbing in a little olive oil, making it wavy and pleasing to look at. "Should stop any time now." And as if acceding to the lovely woman's request, the buzzing and throbbing stopped suddenly. Mark's eyes widened slightly at the sudden quiet inside his cranial grape. Becky saw his expression change and smiled, knowing what had happened. "Hmm," she purred, tracing a finger down his form and over his cock beneath his period clothes. "Estne volumen in tunica, an solum tibi libet me videre?" Mark grinned, understanding what she had said. "Ego sum laetus video vidi te!" he replied readily. "Well, I know you're happy to see these;” Becky whispered, leaning close and using a finger to tug down the edge of her barely-there clothing and exposing her tit to him, the pink nipples begging for his attention. "But;” she said, replacing the clothing and standing up again, "; we're here to take part in a Roman orgy, so we'd best get moving now that you're feeling better." Mark exhaled, composing himself after her tease, and nodded. "All right. So what's the drill again?" "Your name is Bonosus," Becky instructed, touching up his outfit again. "You're a slave from Spain, meaning that you have no rights. But don't worry, I own you, and I am very specific about who can do what with you." "So, no guy is gonna try and fuck me in the ass, right?" Mark asked somewhat nervously, smiling. Becky smiled: "Pity you won't try it, you might like it. However, no, I'll simply explain that you're off-limits to men, because you're being saved for my uncle, who is away on the German border. Me, I'm a patrician woman, visiting Rome, and I'm looking for a good time. My name is Aurora. If you really need my attention and are worried about speaking in Latin, we'll speak in English, quietly. Got it?" "Okay, what should I expect?" he queried. "I did a little research, looking for who had a reputation for throwing orgies and parties that tended to bring out the morals police," she answered, adjusting her own outfit now. Neither of them was wearing undergarments, and if the light caught the bottom portion of her so-called dress just right, Mark could see her cunt. "This villa is far enough on the outskirts of Rome that we're very unlikely to get a visit." She leaned back against the wall, smiling saucily as she drew him into her, their pelvises pressing together as she looked up at him. "So we're going to go in there, and fuck, and fuck, and fuck, with anyone and everyone we choose," she whispered in his ear. "Fuck every single girl that catches your fancy, Mark. Those anacept pills we took will cover us against all known transmitted diseases for a week, and they make us temporarily infertile. No consequences. And the tiny tabs on our skin will keep our libidos from flagging for a whole day." "That sounds great," he agreed, his eyes glinting with excitement. "Really great." "Mark, I am going to behave like I haven't since my wildest nights in college," Becky said softly, reaching up and running her fingers through his hair as she looked up into his eyes. He could feel her breathing getting heavy. She was really turned on by what they were about to do. "Are you sure you're prepared to see me like that?" Mark nodded: "I don't own you, Becks. We're time travel partners, and damned good ones. It's not like we're in love. Do what you like, I promise, it's fine." "Hmm, just when I thought you couldn't get more attractive;” she purred, pulling him in for a deep kiss while they leaned against the wall. She broke the kiss and looked up at him. "Do' you remember where all our supplies are, in case things happen to go south?" Mark nodded again. "Back in the little vestibule near the servants' rooms. I remember. Now let's do this; Mistress Aurora." "God, I could get used to hearing that," Becky sighed, shivering as she straightened up and prepared herself. "Remember; lots of drinking, eating, music, dancing and fucking. Do whatever the Hell feels good tonight, Mark, this is a real Roman orgy." She took him by the hand and smiled wickedly. "Now let's go get 'em, tiger;” Mark was laughing and drinking wine from a silver goblet, while watching a group of slave girls dance in the middle of the floor. The girls, who were clearly from all around the Empire, were whirling and cavorting about while drums and cymbals clashed out a rhythmic beat for them to follow. They wore sheer material draping down from their waists between their legs, and nothing else. Their tits bounced and jiggled about as they twirled about one another, letting out sensuous calls on occasion. The hosts of the day's festivities, a patrician man named Flavius and his lovely wife Pompeneia, were very wealthy, and they owned over five hundred slaves, spread out among three separate properties spaced around the capital. Mark had even heard tell that they owned land in Egypt and Byzantium. Wealthy indeed. There were nearly fifty proper guests, excluding slaves and attendants, so the place was fairly bustling with people. Patricians, plebeians, freedmen, freedwomen and slaves, all were to enjoy themselves tonight. And all at the request of the guest of honor, the stunning Aurora of the fabled Horatius family. Mark pried his eyes away from the dancing girls long enough to look around for his 'mistress'. He finally espied her, lying stretched out on a lectus, along with their hostess, Pompeneia, hungrily swallowing one another's tongue while they groped each other. Against all odds, 'Aurora' still had her clothes on, although only barely. Mistress Horatia Aurora had, as guest of honor, requested that in the name of the goddess Feronia, that the slaves be allowed to celebrate tonight as well, free of consequence, as long as they also performed their assigned duties. If not actively seeing to an assignment, they were allowed to sit, although they had to accede their seat to anyone of a higher station who needed it. They would also still oblige guests who wished to be serviced by the slave in question, and the Flavius household's slaves were all available to anyone who attended. Mark looked back at the dance now, seeing that it was winding down, with the girls letting out calls that there supposed to represent cranes or herons crying out for mates. That was an invitation for anyone inclined to come and take them once the dance had ended. They all fell still in various poses as the drums and cymbals stopped and the room erupted in applause and cheers for their efforts. Mark smiled as one bronze-skinned beauty on the floor caught his eye. As the dancers dispersed into the crowd, she slowly walked over to him, her deep hazel eyes liquid with passion. Mark greeted her with a cup of wine, offering it to her. "I thank you," she said in a heavy accent, her Latin speech seeming formal. "Tonight is a special night indeed, is it not?" Mark paused for a half second as the tiny chip in his brain listened to what she was saying and translated it for him. Weirder still, it translated what she was saying in her voice, but in English. Her English voice sounded quite amazing to him, and he felt a stirring in his loins as he gazed at her body. He thought of how to respond, the translation coming to him readily, in his voice, so that he knew how to sound when he said it. This technology blew his mind, somewhat literally. "Yeah," he replied in Latin, nodding as he clinked his silver goblet against hers. "I am enjoying it. You dance very well." "I have to," she replied, using two hands to bring the goblet up to her lips and sipping from it, as if she'd never had wine before. Hell, maybe she hadn't for all he knew. "If a dancer does not dance well in the Flavius household, demotion to some other task, probably much more horrible, awaits them. I need to be a good dancer, if I am to keep my coveted position." "I'm sure your masters have many coveted positions where you're concerned," Mark quipped, smirking. The girl blushed and giggled, taking another sip of her wine and looked at him. "You are slave to the Mistress Aurora, yes?" Mark nodded: "I am." "What is it like to be her slave?" she asked, looking up into his eyes. Mark was the tallest person in the room, and it wasn't going unnoticed. Becky was certainly the tallest woman, but he'd heard her jest about having German barbarians in her ancestry. Everyone laughed it off, and the party continued. Mark considered for a moment before answering. "Well, I like it a lot. Sure beats the life I was living before I became her slave." "Are you her only slave?" queried the girl, clearly more than a little intrigued. She didn't seem at all bothered by the fact that every time he wasn't speaking, Mark's eyes went down to her tits. They weren't as big as Becky's by any means, but they were still very nice, her soft light brown skin capped with darker brown aureoles and pronounced nipples. "Well, no," he lied, thinking on his feet. He hadn't really expected any questions along this line and would have to tell Becky whatever he said, so they could coordinate their stories if the matter came up. "I'm not really any good at counting, but there's always a lot of us around." "What do you do for her?" Shit, better make this simple but good; he thought to himself. "I'm her personal servant. I do all the most personal and intimate things for her. I dress her, I taste her food for her, I bathe her;” "Do you fuck her?" she inquired, looking over the rim of her silver cup as she took another drink, a deeper one this time. So this was the crux question, he realized. He simply nodded, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Oh," she said in a quiet voice, as if his words were of concern for her. "Do; do her other servants fuck her?" He smirked: "None of the male ones, now that she's got me." She raised her eyebrow at his statement and took another drink. "Is that so?" Mark shook his head for a moment, as if he was remembering something. "I'm sorry, I'm being rude, I didn't ask your name." The girl made a wry face. "My name? Why would anyone ask for my name? I am a slave." Mark shrugged. "Well, so am I. Tell me your name, so I know what I'll be calling out in an hour." The girl almost choked on her wine, but recovered and looked up at him, as if assessing him. Finally she spoke: "Before I became a slave, my name was Nanu." Mark wasn't terribly surprised when the stupid chip in his head found out what the name meant. "So you're Egyptian and your name means 'pretty' or 'cute.'" She stared at him for a moment, as if trying to fathom how he could have possibly known that. "What is your mistress' name in my language?" she asked suspiciously. Mark blinked for a moment. "Khepri nebet." She moved closer to him. "What is your name, slave?" He smiled at her warmly, deciding it was time to move things along. "My name is Bonosus, Nanu, and I am the slave who is going to fuck you." Nanu smiled and reached out a hand to him. Becky panted as she rocked back and forth on her knees, pressing her face into her hostess' hairy cunt, lashing it with her tongue. Behind her, one of Pompeneia's slaves was gripping her hips and plowing his hard cock in and out of Becky, trying to keep up with her lusty pace. He wasn't nearly as large as Mark, nor was he as talented, but he would make her cum, given the environment. Becky was here to fuck in a Roman orgy, and what individual participants might lack in skill, her excitement would certainly make up for. Pompeneia moaned and gripped Becky's hair, loosening it further from its carefully piled arrangement. Becky didn't mind, though, as she expected to look fully disheveled and thoroughly fucked by the time this orgy was over. She'd had several cups of aged wine already and was feeling uninhibited, even for her. She slid two fingers inside her hostess, making her moan and churn her matronly hips while Becky took another stiff drink from her goblet. She then returned her mouth to Pompeneia's snatch, allowing rivulets of the dark wine to flow out over her engorged vulva before sucking on it hungrily, making the patrician woman gasp and groan loudly and thrash about on the lectus she was splayed on. The slave behind her pistoned his hips against her while she ground back against him, taking his cock as deep inside her as she could. She could feel him swelling and knew he was close to cumming, but she didn't mind if she didn't climax yet, because the day was young, and this orgy had barely started. There were so many people left to fuck. Besides, she could always track down her darling Mark if she needed serious attention, after all. The slave grunted and let out a low moan before he began spurting his cum inside her. Becky moaned into Pompeneia's cunt, sending her over the edge and making her cum shamelessly, her fat tits flopping about for all to see. Nobody cared, or if they did, they were delighted by it. There was no judgment at this orgy. As the slave pulled out, Becky clambered on top of Pompeneia and they kissed deeply, wrapping their arms around one another, tongues plunging. Becky finally sat up, smiling and straddling her hostess' hips. She smirked down at the Roman woman and then reached beneath herself, flexing her cunt muscles and teasing out the cum that the slave had just deposited in her. She smeared it all over Pompeneia's thatch and nether lips, before dragging her shaved twat up her lover's body, leaving a glistening and sticky trail of cum along the way. She squirmed and writhed on Pompeneia's tits, smearing them in the slave's essence while trying to get one of the nipples inside her cunt. Finally she wiggled her way up to Pompeneia's mouth, and the older woman gripped Becky's thighs and sucked on her smooth cunt hungrily, coaxing out all the cum she could from her guest. Becky smiled and reached back with one hand to finger Pompeneia's gooey cunt, bringing her to yet another climax, the fourth she'd received from Becky. The teacher had no doubt this woman would remember her very fondly. She finally clambered off Pompeneia and knelt beside her, the two of them kissing tenderly, sharing the cum from the slave between them, followed by Becky licking the residue off her lover's face. They whispered to one another before Becky stood and strutted away, knowing that Pompeneia's eyes were fixated on her glorious, toned ass. It felt good, knowing she was the object of desire for every single person in the entire household. Becky looked around in wonder, surrounded by actual Roman artwork, in a completely intact home with a glorious mosaic tile floor depicting a couple making love and then a hunting scene involving a lion. The plastered walls were painted in bright colors. The furniture, made of wood with brass fittings and comfortable cushions, was currently being put to the test as couples or groups around her fucked and made love in every conceivable position. She gazed down at the silver goblet in her hand, made of beaten silver and decorated with glass prisms and with a poem etched into its circumference. She picked up a small, sticky honey cake from a table, then took a bite from it before smiling wickedly and pressing it to her glorious tits, smearing the sticky honey all over them. As a female slave passed by, Becky took her gently by the arm and pulled her into an embrace, gently pushing her head down. The slave understood immediately and began kissing her tits, slithering her tongue around to get the gooey sweetness off Becky. The blonde woman was shivering and groaning while already smearing the honey cake against her cunt. Mark was sitting on in a low chair in a side room, holding Nanu by the waist while she bounced up and down on his lap, her arms around his shoulders and her eyes staring down into his. Her greedy cunt swallowed his cock, making her gasp and groan with each motion. Her inner muscles squeezed around him, and while Becky was definitely more skilled, and perhaps even tighter, the fact that he was actually fucking a Roman slave was an incredible thrill. She jammed her lips to his and kissed him feverishly, her fingernails raking over his back as she ground down on him, hissing and panting with lust. He found her to be incredibly exotic, and he realized that it might because he'd never met a true ethnic Egyptian before. As far as he knew, the bloodline of the ancient Egyptians had become extinct. She certainly looked exotic to him, with her deeply tan skin, hazel eyes and straight, coal-black hair. He used his strong arms to help move her up and down, almost spiking her on his cock, and her panting became a delightful yelping. There were loud cries of ecstasy from all over the house, so they paid no attention to anything else. She kissed him again before seizing up and shuddering, groaning loudly. She threw her head back and pressed her cunt down as hard as she could, cumming wildly. Mark kept pumping relentlessly, loving how her snatch clenched around him. Nanu flopped backward, her head now on the floor, arms splayed and her back arched, still pinned to Mark by his cock. Her chest rose and fell as she breathed heavily, still trembling. He smiled down at the girl, waiting for her to recover. When her eyes finally fluttered open, he took her arms and gently pulled her up to him. She almost purred and nuzzled against him, still in the throes of a sultry bliss that filled her. Nanu kissed him everywhere she could reach, including his fingertips. "You are an exquisite lover," she murmured, looking deep into his eyes and caressing his face. "No wonder your mistress needs only you for fucking." He smiled back: "I'm just happy that she doesn't mind sharing me, because I am enjoying fucking you too." She went back to kissing him gently, and was whispering things against his skin, but too softly for him to understand. She finally looked back up at him. "But you have not yet cum." Mark shook his head. "Do you fear giving me a child?" Nanu asked. He shook his head again. "Then are you barren?" "Only for this week," he quipped, grinning and enjoying her confusion at his statement. "Don't worry, I'm just conserving my strength. This orgy is a long way from over, and if I cum now, I don't know how long it will take me to recover." "Do you promise to cum in me?" Nanu asked expectantly. "I; I am just a slave, I know, but I like you, Bonosus. I want to feel your cum in me, especially if you cannot give me a child." "I think I can make that promise;” Mark replied, pulling her in for another kiss. Becky shivered as she sat on the stone bench, centered over a hole as she started to pee. She'd already cum at least six times, and she had the distinct feeling the tally would be sixty before the night was out. One woman and one man slave leaned down on either side of her and began sliding and flickering their tongues around her rock-hard nipples, making her moan in delight. She felt her legs being parted and smiled down at a freedwoman who leaned in and tongued her cunt attentively, even here in the cultus, the small, private bathroom of the Flavius family. Becky sighed and cradled the head of the woman licking her cunt, while squirming her tits against the mouths of the two slaves sucking them. The tongue of the woman between her legs sent tingles through her, and she could feel another climax building rapidly. Everything about this setting, this experience, was making her hornier and more sensitive than ever. She wrapped her arms around the necks of the man and woman sucking on her nipples and pulled them in tight, arching her back and groaning very loudly as she came, squirting into the face of the woman licking her cunt. She bucked and writhed on the seat, thankful for the anacept pills she and Mark had taken, since she'd done quite a bit of research on Roman hygiene practices. She stood finally, releasing the two slaves who were sucking on her tits, while the girl between her legs merely knelt back a little and kept her mouth pressed to Becky's cunt, massaging it with her tongue. Becky smiled down at her dreamily and winked before pulling her to her feet. They kissed deeply and then she led her out of the room, followed by the slaves. "Go and find my manservant for me," Becky instructed. "Bring him to me and I'll let him fuck you. He is a wonderful lover." The woman hurried off, while Becky found a couch and reclined, her legs spread wide. She let the male slave lap at her gooey cunt while she made out with the female. She felt so deliciously depraved in this setting, like she could let everything go and act like a harlot without consequence. Which she could. The freedwoman returned some minutes later (Becky barely remembered having sent her at this point), with Mark following. He was delightfully naked, his cock glistening with lubrication. He was holding the hand of a dark-skinned and dark-haired girl, who was clearly a slave and following behind him. The girl gaped at Becky in awe. "Hey, Becks," Mark said cheerfully in English, almost laughing as the chip in his noggin tried to translate what he was saying into Latin. "Enjoying yourself?" "Hmm, you have no idea, baby," the blonde woman purred, stretching her arms over her head so that her glorious tits thrust up toward the ceiling. "I see you've found yourself a pretty little playmate. She was one of the dancers from earlier, right?" "Yeah, I wanna see if I can somehow get all eight to fuck me at once," Mark replied, grinning. "That'll beat my record by at least a factor of; wait; you, Alexandra and her servant Lisette all at once; divided into eight;” "Don't strain yourself, Einstein," Becky said dryly. "Just suffice to say that fucking eight Roman slave-dancers at once will be more than anyone else you know will ever accomplish." "Except you, I'm betting," Mark pointed out, smirking. "Is that a challenge, young man?" Becky asked, raising her eyebrow. "What'll we wager?" he queried. He had no particular confidence that he could outfuck his Physics teacher, because she had proven to be quite a sex fiend, but he was more than willing to try, here in Imperial Rome. "Tell you what;” Becky suggested, sitting up on the couch at looking up at him, smiling lightly. "If I win, you have to let the man of my choice here in this orgy fuck you in the ass." Mark was very still, a shiver of dread going up his spine. He swallowed, waiting to hear what else she had to say. "But, if you manage to fuck more girls at one time than I take of male and female lovers at one time, I'll buy your cute little girlfriend from our host and make her ours, okay?" Mark could barely process what he was hearing. He turned his head and stared at Nanu, weighing the price of 'owning' her versus having his ass plowed by some random Roman dude. The perils of time travel. But he'd already been shot and survived, right? "You're on, Becks," he said finally. "Ya' only live once, right?" "That's the spirit," she cooed, winking at him. "Tu solum vivis unum tempus! As long as you save some of that splendid stamina and cum of yours for me. So, are you going to introduce me to your little friend?" Mark nodded and pulled the Egyptian girl forward. She seemed rather intimidated. "Becks, this is Nanu. She's Egyptian." Becky smiled kindly and patted her soft lap. Nanu let go of Mark's hand and eased herself carefully onto the blonde goddess' lap, sitting sideways. Becky put her arms around the girl's waist and looked her up and down. "Hmm, very nice, Mark;” Becky said quietly before pulling Nanu gently into her and kissing her warmly. To her credit, the slave girl did not resist at all, but melted into the kiss, moaning in pleasure. She squirmed around until she was straddling Becky, her legs hitched behind her back, and their tits squashed together. Mark stood closer and watched eagerly as their tongues tangled and they began caressing and fondling one another. Nanu shivered under Becky's divine touch, and he knew she was incredibly aroused already. Their kiss became sloppy, and they slid their tongues around one another's faces, leaving them glistening and sticky. Becky took Nanu's bottom lip in her mouth, sucking it in. The slave shivered again and let out a tiny whimper, before pulling back from the kiss and touching her fingers to the lip. She examined the fingers, noticing a trace of blood. "Yes, I bit your lip," Becky whispered to her only loud enough for Nanu and Mark to hear. "By making you bleed from our kiss, I have stated my intent to own you, Nanu. Would you like that?" Nanu's eyes widened and she nodded almost imperceptibly. "Good," Becky said, reaching between them and cupping the Egyptian girl's tit, giving it a gentle feel. "Now all my naughty little Bonosus has to do is manage to fuck all eight of you dancing girls at once in order to make that happen. You might want to help him a little;” She allowed the slave girl to stand and gave her a gentle pat on the rear. Nanu stood in front of Mark for a moment, looking up at him, and then hurried off. He then heard Becky giggling. "Goodness, Mark, how hard did you fuck her to make her fall that much in love with you already?" the blonde asked, her beautiful blue eyes glinting with mirth. Mark tried not to frown. "I didn't have to fuck her that hard, thank you. I've fucked you a lot harder on countless occasions." "And you'll have to fuck me much harder still to make me fall in love with you, handsome," she cooed, reaching out and stroking his cock gently. "It's time for my surprise. Have you put the little speaker things all around?" Mark nodded: "The switch to activate them and the music is in the little satchel we brought. I'll be ready." Becky smiled and stood up, moving close to Mark so that their bodies were pressing and his cock was nestled against her slick cunt, and already hardening from the contact. She smiled and traced a finger along his swelling cock while looking up into his eyes. "I'm glad to be here, Mark," she said softly, knowing that many sets of eyes were on them, and quite envious of them both. "But I'm mostly glad to be here sharing this with you. I couldn't have asked for a better time travel partner." They kissed tenderly for a moment before Becky pulled back and winked. "I'm gonna go get dressed; be ready for me." She scampered off, and he watched her magnificent ass wiggle away from him. He noticed he wasn't the only one staring. He wandered around and made sure that all the 'speakers' were strategically placed around the room for Becky's performance. They looked and felt like rocks, to be honest, so he had no idea how they worked. All he knew was that he'd tested them, and they did. Hell, they even had the music they were meant to play stored in them! Future-tech was really something. He remembered how they'd found a chrono-merchant, right in his hometown, in a secluded store he'd never noticed before. Chester had pointed them to the merchant in question, and he was happy to help them. Most of his time was spent helping customers from the far future, who happened to be visiting Mark and Becky's era, so having some locals was a refreshing change for him. The student and teacher had expressed their wish to go back to Imperial Rome and attend a real orgy. The man smiled slyly and showed them a range of items he thought they might need; clothing, currency, subtle but advanced medications to protect themselves; All it cost Mark was his collection of six vintage Star Wars Pez dispensers. Apparently, originals were big collector's items in the future. "Remind me to come back to you with my dad's Micronauts and Rock 'Em Sock 'Em Robots!" Mark had laughed. Mark felt well-prepared for this trip, and he had to admit, he was enjoying himself. He drank from his wine while standing in front of a patrician woman, who was sitting naked on a couch and slurping hungrily back and forth on his cock. He gazed around, noting the sumptuous array of foods laid out in vast quantities for the event; it was very hard for many of the slaves to restrain themselves from eating greedily, since this type of generosity was almost unknown to them. Loaves of bread, honey-cakes, dates, figs, stuffed dormice, varieties of pulses, apricots, various fish, cheeses, boar meat, olives, and caviar, which he'd heard the hostess Pompeneia brag to Becky about being sent straight from Persia. He'd never tried caviar before, and he was surprised that he actually liked it. He blinked as he felt the patrician woman pull her mouth off his throbbing cock, which she had brought back to an impressive hardness. She had then bent over the couch, in full view of everyone in the room, and shamelessly reached back and spread her ass cheeks, exposing her puckered knot and asking him to fuck her ass. Mark bit his lip, wondering what to do; Becky wouldn't be much longer in getting ready, but slaves were obliged to satisfy all favors required of them by the legitimate guests, especially the higher-ranking patricians. He couldn't say no. He stepped up and took hold of her wobbly ass cheeks, steadying his cock against her. She moaned in anticipation of him entering her. He reached down and ran his hand up and down her sloppy cunt for several seconds, and used that lubrication to prepare her ass, sticking his index finger inside her and twisting it around. The woman groaned loudly, and he realized that she was making a show of it, announcing that she was the one getting fucked by this tall, handsome and mysterious Spanish slave of Lady Aurora's. Apparently he was something of a commodity. He would fuck her ass fast and hard, making her cum, so that he could return to his assignment from Becky. He took hold of his cock and pressed the head against her little star, pushing it through. She grunted and let out a moan. Lots of people were watching, including more than a few slaves. Slowly and firmly, Mark slid his turgid phallus deep inside her, making her cry out so loudly that he was certain she could be heard outside the villa, despite all the other carnal happenings around them. Here goes nothing; He gripped her hips and leaned over her, pressing her down into the couch as she wailed again. He began pumping in and out strongly, plowing deep inside her. Clearly she was no stranger to this, because she wasn't nearly as tight as Becky. He fucked her ass in a steady rhythm, watching as his own pulsing shaft slid in and out of her. She gasped and yelped, putting on a show for those watching. Her hands kept her ass cheeks pulled wide, so everyone could see how deep inside her Mark was. Then he took the initiative. Everyone gasped as he let go of her hips and gripped both of her wrists, pulling back toward himself and arching her spine, even as he pressed forward into her more strongly with each stroke. The woman seemed to choke on her breath, shaking and looking back at him in shock. Her face was variously flushed and pale, depending on where one looked. Her eyes seemed bleary, as if she was on the verge of tears. Her erect nipples declared her arousal as her tits protruded far in front of her back-stretched arms. He rode her as though she was a bridled horse, only her two arm were the reins. The full floppy tits shook wildly with his aggressive pounding, grinding, fucking of her asshole. But she didn't object to his aggression or dominance. "Do you think Mistress Horatia lets him take her that way?" he heard one woman ask another as she gazed on in rapt wonder. "If she does, she's a lucky cunt, she is;” whispered the other woman in response. And still he plunged his cock deep inside her ass, making the woman squeal and churn beneath him, struggling to move, but pinned by his superior strength. He could tell that the other women (and most likely some men) were jealous, because they were beginning to talk shit about her quietly. "Qualem muleirculam!" whispered a man gazing one in envy. That seemed a little harsh; Mark wasn't sure she was actually a bimbo. A shameless slut, sure. But wasn't everyone here today? "Pedica meo!" she gasped, squeezing her ass around him. "Pedica meo!" Mark fucked her faster and stronger still, driving his cock deep into her bowels, until she sounded like she was having a severe asthma attack. She wheezed and struggled, but he held her immobilized. She could not escape this exquisite torture unless he let her. He could feel her tightening, though, and he knew she wouldn't last long; exactly what he wanted. He would make sure she got the show she desired. His hips began pistoning rapidly, but with even more strength. The woman's eyes rolled into her head and her mouth dropped open. Her entire body shuddered in a long wave, and she screeched, battered by endless waves of pleasure as the orgasm crashed over her. She clenched her teeth and writhed, as if trying to escape, but she had already completely surrendered to her blissful fate. Mark dropped her wrists and now gripped her long, kinky brown hair, yanking on it to pull her up. She gasped at the unexpected but glorious sting and found herself pulled up and back against him. His hips still pumped against her ass cheeks, sliding his cock deep within, while his strong hands began to grope and almost maul her flushed, sweaty body. Helpless before him, she allowed the violation readily, whimpering and in tears. "Es scortum obscenus vilis," he growled in her ear before biting it and making her writhe in need. "You are a vile, dirty little whore, aren't you?" "Etiam!" she gasped, as his hand gripped her chin and turned her face forcefully to look into his eyes. "Yes, I am a vile, dirty whore! Fuck me in my shame!" He fucked her until she was almost limp, and finally slid out of her ass, the abused knot pulling back along with his shaft obscenely, a fact noted and commented on by anyone close enough to see. She collapsed forward over the couch again, trembling, but saying nothing. Mark turned his body and caught the gaze of another woman, who hustled over, knelt and began sucking on his cock without question. He waited while she cleaned him dutifully before noticing Becky standing by a dark corner, watching in amusement. She raised an eyebrow and he nodded. Without further ado, he subtly retrieved the remote for the things that were supposed to be speakers, and held his arms up, beckoning everyone to gather in. As the naked crowd moved in, the host and hostess came and stood near him, smiling pleasantly. Pompeneia explained that they were now to be entertained by the guest of honor, who would be dancing for them all. As if on cue with her words, slaves around the room modified the intensity of the flames coming from the braziers that illuminated the room, making it dimmer and more sensual, except for an area in the central expanse. Mark subtly pressed a button on a tiny remote he was hiding in his hand. Music emanated from around the room from the concealed speakers. He'd remembered what the T E A agents had told him about anachronistic technologies and how they would rarely work in times or eras they were not known in, but he seemed to be getting away with it so far. It occurred to him that this meant the technologies he and Becky were using were not to be discovered. Yet. He smiled as Becky seemed to shift and ripple into view, because of the flickering brazier flames. The music, he knew, would be like nothing these people had ever heard before. True, it wasn't metal, but the arrangements and instruments would be alien. Not to mention the Phil Spector-esque 'Wall of Sound' involved. Becky had told him the song was called 'Gypsy', and she now spread her arms over the head, as diaphanous strips of translucent material curled sensuously around her lovely form, and gems glittered on her forehead and navel. Gold anklets tinkled on her feet. Mark had never seen 'Lord of the Dance' before, but watching Becky, maybe it wasn't such a bad idea after all. As wind instruments began playing while drums and strings kept a backbeat, Becky snaked and twirled around the circular space in time with the music. Everyone watched her, rapt. Mark's eyes flicked over and he saw Nanu looking on from farther back in the room, standing atop a bench to get a better view. Her eyes were wide with awe. People were still whispering as they watched; for a patrician woman to dance this way, or even know how to dance this way, was scandalous, and they loved every second of her performance. The music grew louder and more intense as the wall of sound, a concept these people couldn't even readily grasp, filled the venereum. Becky continued her cavorting, her tits bouncing about beneath the outfit she was wearing. It was more of a tease than anything, because it concealed pretty much nothing. When she kicked high, she showed her cunt to everyone. She seemingly didn't care, or was enjoying it. Probably the latter, knowing her as he did now. The music reached a crescendo and then stopped, with Becky collapsing to a sitting position, curled in on herself. The crowd clapped, cheered and catcalled enthusiastically. Seconds later, another musical piece began, this one in a style probably more familiar to the onlookers. Mark knew it was from the soundtrack of the movie 'Alexander'. It opened with tinkling chimes and what sounded like hooting bird calls. Becky slowly rose to her feet, holding an elaborate pose. Then what sounded like four hammers striking an anvil rang across the space, followed by a frenetic drum beat. Becky broke into a wild dance, spinning and prancing about with abandon. The crowd watched spellbound as the music echoed around the room. Becky's blue eyes flashed with excitement, knowing that the revelers were enchanted by her. There was no one in this room who was not sexually enthralled with her at this very moment. Even Mark, who knew her pretty much better that anyone on this planet, at any point in history, was watching her in quiet awe. It made her wet, thinking of what he'd do to her later after watching this. As she whirled in a circle close to the crowd, she took hold of a male dancer slave, and then another, leading them in the exotic and magnetic dance she now performed. Both men were naked, and she snaked her body against them, rapidly bringing them to hardness. The crowd cheered as she flung aside the strips of fabric that concealed her body, until she was as naked as the slaves. Everyone watched in astonishment as she dropped to her knees between the two men and began hungrily sucking on their cocks, each one in turn, then finally putting them both in her mouth at once, her cheeks bulging obscenely. "In the name of Suadela," breathed Pompeneia, standing next to Mark and staring dumbly. "Your mistress is the most magnificent whore I have ever seen, Bonosus." "Yeah, she's something, all right;” Mark agreed, blown away by his teacher's depravity. He thought about how much she'd been looking forward to behaving so luridly, without the consequences of biology or moral censure. She was time-travelling, for crying out loud; could there have been a better excuse? No, if he was allowed to fuck as many women as he wanted, even all at once, Becky had the right to do whatever the Hell suited her. It was a damned fool who held her to a different standard just because she was a woman. Guys who thought like that never got women as amazing as Becky. Loser incels; The music was finally ending, and he discreetly shut off the speakers with his tiny remote. Seconds later, he felt a dainty hand on his shoulder. He turned to look at Pompeneia, who smiled at him wickedly and cocked her head, indicating she should follow him. Mark took a deep breath and gently touched the nearly-invisible tab he'd put under his armpit, thankful for the vasopressin it was releasing into his system; "Heaven," Becky thought dreamily as she rode up and down slowly, the slave cock throbbing as it slid in and out of her ass. He was lying beneath her while she faced down his legs, his strong hands massaging her toned cheeks. His legs were spread to make way for another slave who knelt in front of her, thrusting back and forth to spear his rod in and out of her cunt. She groaned around the cock that was in her mouth, the freedman who owned it standing next to her beautiful face and letting her suck him. On either side, her hands were pumping vigorously on the cocks of two more slaves. "God," she thought, "I haven't done anything this wild since Frosh Week in my sophomore year. I've missed it so;” Five men at once. No regrets, no consequences. She almost giggled as she wondered where else she might fit another. Then two hands reached around from behind and began groping her ample tits, making her moan around the cock she was sucking on. Another slave had moved up behind her and settled down onto the face of the man beneath her. His hands groped her while the slave below him did something to his ass. Becky didn't care what they did to one another; she just wanted to feel as many men on her as possible. She shuddered as her nipples were pinched and she bobbed back and forth faster on the cock in her mouth, expertly swirling her tongue around the head and the shaft. Her hands twisted gently on the skin of the cocks she was holding, while she squeezed the ones inside her. She could feel them bumping against one another, separated only by a thin membrane between her cunt and ass. She gasped and almost wheezed, because they were striking deep inside her at different angles. The slave fucking her cunt was moving at an almost horizontal angle, while the one in her ass pushed straight up. It was almost; disorienting in a way. She gently pulled the two slaves she was jerking even closer, so that she could touch their cocks together, sliding them against one another. The slave behind her with his hands on her tits moved them, shifting them to her trim stomach as she pointed the two throbbing cocks at her tits, her hands stroking them rapidly. The slaves both moaned and shuddered as they spurted their cum across the expanse of her bosom, glazing the silken skin. Seconds later, she felt the cock in her mouth throb and swell, pumping a pearly offering down her throat. She swallowed hungrily, enthralled to be living her wild days all over again. Becky cried out and shook as an orgasm blossomed through her, just the first of many she planned to have in this particular tryst. Slaves leaned in and began lapping at the cum on her tits, tongues sliding along the skin or swirling around the nipples, occasionally biting and tugging on them. She leaned back, moving the man behind her to the side as she lay on the Nubian slave beneath her, still pumping in and out of her ass. She reached up and pulled the man fucking her cunt down by the shoulders, bringing him close and kissing him, their tongues rolling and wrestling about. They were both spearing up inside her now, their thrusts beginning to sync as she groaned shamelessly, filled with an exquisite wet heat. The climax that followed seconds later rocked her to her core, but she powered through it, determined to have as many more as possible. Now she let the two men fuck her while she took another hard cock in her mouth, stretching her neck back and relaxing her throat, letting it slide back and forth inside her. She gripped the hips of the man fucking her face, her eyes closed as she enjoyed the unadulterated ecstasy flowing through her, needing more men to pleasure her; Mark was sitting back lazily in the shallow pool that dominated the palaestra of the Flavian villa. He gazed around at the ornate courtyard, surrounded by columns and burgeoning with ornamental plants and trees. Exotic animals like peacocks could be seen strutting across the grass; at least, they could where none of the orgy's attendees were making merry. He sighed as a dancer girl knelt behind him and massaged his shoulders, while two others were curled up against his sides, cooing and kissing his skin. Nanu, meanwhile, was sitting in his lap, facing out and moving up and down slowly on his cock, taking it deep inside herself, her fingers flexing against his supple thighs. She turned her head to look back at him, her hazel eyes glassy with pleasure. More of her fellow dancers crowded in, until he felt himself totally enveloped in wanton slave flesh. They kissed and nipped at his skin, giggling and whispering to one another. Mark knew he was supposed to be a slave, but he seemed to be getting better treatment than a lot of the guests who weren't slaves. He imagined it was because he was the manservant of the guest of honor, but he still felt like a king at the moment. One girl dangled rich grapes in front of his mouth and he bit several off, chewing and swallowing casually. Another then brought a cup of wine to his lips and he drank from it before she leaned in and kissed him, allowing the wine to flow back and forth between their mouths. As she pulled back from the kiss, she allowed the wine to spill out of her mouth, trickling down her neck and tits. Two other girls immediately leaned in and began licking the sweet offering from her skin. Nearby, on a well-cushioned couch, Lady Pompeneia was lying on her side, quite naked, moaning as her husband propped one of her legs in the air and knelt between them, sawing his cock in and out of his wife. She drank from her goblet and watched her slaves attend to Bonosus. She closed her eyes and rubbed one of her tits as she remembered what it had felt like to have his big, sturdy cock fucking her less than an hour ago, feeling his thick, warm cum pump deep inside her. She wondered how wonderful it must be to own a servant with these incredible qualities and envied Lady Aurora. She entertained the absurd notion of trying to buy him from her, but was reasonably certain that even the emperor himself wasn't rich enough to purchase the slave outright. She'd content herself with becoming friends with Lady Aurora Horatia and perhaps then having access to Bonosus' fine obelisk of endless erotic pleasures. She watched as Nanu, churning on Bonosus' lap, shuddered, arched her back and cried out, cumming hard. Two of the other dancers were sucking her tits and she seemed in ecstasy. Not that Pompeneia blamed her; Nanu was rather tiny, and that magnificent cock had to be battering the bottom of her lungs. The Egyptian girl sagged, and one of the other dancers gently pulled her off and over to the side. Nanu was immediately replaced by another girl, who straddled Bonosus' lap, facing him and sinking down with a loud sigh. Pompeneia herself shuddered and gripped her tit tightly as a little orgasm shivered through her, while her husband moaned and pushed tight against her, cumming in her. Standing nearby, a slave helped ease his master's cock out of Pompeneia and sucked it clean. The mistress of the house sighed and caressed herself, enjoying every moment of this day. What a splendid orgy this was proving to be. She sat up slowly and looked around, seeing people in ecstasy all around her; not far away, one of the guests had a servant girl pressed up against a column, and was fucking her eagerly. She was pumping her hips against him and gasping in delight. On the emerald grass nearby, two women were laying side-by-side, arms wrapped around one another while they sucked hungrily on each other's pussies. One of her slender, boyish manservants was getting fucked in the ass by a patrician man named Pontifex, and her slave was mewling loudly. She heard laughing and joyous talk as Lady Aurora entered the palaestra, completely naked and surrounded by slaves and guests, all basking in her glorious sensuality. She sauntered over to the pool and eased herself down into it, sighing and relaxing in the cool water. Pompeneia smirked; after all the endless fucking the Lady had been doing, she was surprised there weren't clouds of steam emanating from around Aurora, as the water touched her skin. She was possibly the only person in the villa to have fucked more than her servant Bonosus. Pompeneia smiled and eased herself down onto the couch, beckoning over a slave-girl to service her. "Well, Mark, I see you've won our little wager," Becky observed, smiling at him while two slaves massaged her shoulders. She parted her legs to allow a servant girl to massage her cunt, or occasionally go under the water to kiss and nibble at it. "I managed six lovers at once. You seem to have eight." "Only if we fudge," he admitted, looking around the dancer who churned on his cock, trying to keep her moaning down so he could talk. "I can reasonably do four; one on my cock, one on my mouth, and one in each hand. I; am not gonna take any in my ass, after all." "Well, at the very least you can tie me," Becky pointed out, smirking at him. "Think and try again. You won't even need to move." Mark frowned for a moment, and then gave his teacher's words some thought; he perked up after a few moments, and then nodded. He told the girl he was fucking to lean back slightly. As she did so, he beckoned another to come and stand upright between them. The slave-girl did so, and Mark started lapping at her wet twat while the girl impaled on his cock began kissing and tonguing her ass. He paused and instructed four more to kneel by his hands. They did as asked readily. He faced them in to one another in pairs, bodies squashed close together. He then pushed his four fingers on each hand into one of them, while wiggling his thumb into the other. They all moaned, because Mark had decent-sized hands and fingers (in any day and age), and began kissing and swallowing one another's tongues hungrily. "See?" Becky giggled. "Six for six, you've matched me now." "Uh-uh!" he called out, his voice muffled by the slippery twat of the slave-girl on his mouth. "Watch this!" The women all whined in protest as Mark stood up, especially the one who had been fucking him, but he assured them that this would take only a moment before all was right with the world. He got out of the water and lay down on the grass, his frame stretched out and his throbbing cock on display, pointing at the cerulean sky overhead. His arms were spread wide and his legs slightly parted. Mark quickly brought the six girls back to their original positions, with the girl who had been using his mouth now facing down his body, to kiss and play with the one bouncing up and down on his cock. The two sets of girls resumed their places on his fingers and thumbs, kissing each other eagerly again, enjoying this strange game. He began wiggling his still-wet toes, and the last two slave-dancers caught on quickly; they took hold of his ankles and lowered their gooey pussies down onto his feet, taking them inside their slippery tunnels and moaning loudly. "Octo!" Mark yelled triumphantly from beneath the cunt squirming on his face. Becky laughed in sheer delight, clapping in support of her student's ingenuity. Others looking on laughed and applauded also. A crowd was gathering around him, but everyone made sure that Lady Aurora, who had moved to the spot just vacated by her servant, could see easily. She knelt on the low, tiled bench below the water, her elbows on the grass, the endless soft blades tickling her tits as she watched. She wiggled her shapely ass, and a slave dutifully moved up behind her and slid his cock deep inside her while she gazed on. Mark was enjoying himself; never had he guessed he would have been fucking eight girls at once, not to mention Roman slave-dancers, two of whom he was pretty sure were sisters. He wiggled his fingers, thumbs and toes, he flickered and snaked his tongue inside the girl above him, and he pushed up and down with his hips, spearing deep inside the slave-girl, who cried out in rapture as his cock split her wet cunt wide open. She arched her back and cried out loudly, cumming hard. She slumped off to the side and was quickly replaced by Nanu, who was eager for more. She churned and writhed on him, occasionally looking over at Lady Aurora, who smiled and winked at her. He could feel them all squirming and trembling now, and pushed himself harder, sending them all over the edge; several moaned loudly while the one on his face kissed Nanu deeply as they both screamed, rocked by their orgasms. The girl riding his tongue fell off to the side, shaking and holding her cunt as she moaned in pleasure. He looked over at his teacher. "Becks," he panted, his face glistening with cum and flush with need. "I'm gonna cum, but I want it to be in you. Please;” Without a moment's hesitation, Becky stood, the crystalline water cascading off her glorious body. She clambered out and all the slave-girls moved aside readily, even Nanu, who dutifully knelt beside Lady Aurora as she straddled her manservant. "Thanks for waiting for me, Mark," Becky whispered as she teased her slippery cunt lips along his cock while resting her hands on his shoulders and looking down at him. "It means so much to me." "Means everything to me too, Becks," he replied, nodding. "Wanna give 'em a show, show 'em how we do it in the twenty-first century?" The blonde beauty smiled wickedly, and without another word, shoved herself down hard on her student's cock, making them both moan loudly as he pushed deep inside her. Everyone watched in awe as the two began fucking madly, Becky thrashing her hips back and forth while he pumped up and down rapidly inside her, battering her cervix with each thrust. His hands found her bouncing tits and squeezed them, making her cry out, her fingernails digging into the meat of his shoulders. Pompeneia and her husband Master Flavius stood right beside them, watching in fascination. Nanu was caressing and massaging Lady Aurora's flanks and ass while she fucked Bonosus, her deep hazel eyes staring longingly at them. Becky rode Mark harder and harder, his throbbing cock stretching her cunt deliciously, making her want to scream. She held on though, squeezing around Mark, thrilled to know that everyone's eyes were on them, watching them fuck with wild abandon. With every thrust she squeezed her ass cheeks tight, feeling Mark shudder below her. Mark was panting and grunting as he fough

How has the classical music industry approached representation and how has the new music community forged new paths to embrace diverse musics? On tonight's episode of Obbligato on APEX Express, Isabel Li is joined by violinist Shalini Vijayan, who discusses her vibrant career and reflects upon the ways contemporary classical music can build community.  Violinist Shalini Vijayan, deemed “a vibrant violinist” by Mark Swed of the Los Angeles Times is an established performer and collaborator on both coasts. Always an advocate for modern music, Shalini was a founding member and Principal Second Violin of Kristjan Jarvi's Absolute Ensemble, having recorded several albums with them including 2001 Grammy nominee, Absolution. Shalini was also a founding member of the Lyris Quartet, one of Los Angeles' most beloved chamber ensembles. With Lyris, she has performed regularly at Walt Disney Concert Hall on the Green Umbrella series, for Jacaranda Music and helped to found the Hear Now Music Festival in Venice, California, a festival dedicated to the music of living composers in Los Angeles.  Shalini performed for over a decade with Southwest Chamber Music and can be heard on their Grammy nominated Complete Chamber Works of Carlos Chávez, Vol. 3. She has been a featured soloist with the Los Angeles Master Chorale in Chinary Ung's Spiral XII and Tan Dun's Water Passion, including performances at the Ravinia Festival. As a chamber musician, Shalini has collaborated with such luminaries as Billy Childs, Chinary Ung, Gabriela Ortiz, and Wadada Leo Smith on whose Ten Freedom Summers she was a soloist. Shalini joined acclaimed LA ensemble, Brightwork New Music in 2019 and also serves as the curator for Brightwork's Tuesdays@Monkspace series, a home for contemporary music and performance in Los Angeles. As a teacher, she has been on the faculty of the Nirmita Composers Workshop in both Siem Reap and Bangkok and coaches composition students through the Impulse New Music Festival.  Shalini received her B.M. and M.M. degrees from Manhattan School of Music as a student of Lucie Robert and Ariana Bronne. As a member of the New World Symphony in Miami Beach, Florida, Shalini served as concertmaster for Michael Tilson Thomas, John Adams, Reinbert de Leeuw and Oliver Knussen. She was also concertmaster for the world premiere performances and recording of Steven Mackey's Tuck and Roll for RCA records in 2000. Shalini was a member of the Pacific Symphony Orchestra for ten seasons and also served as Principal Second Violin of Opera Pacific. She lives in Los Angeles with her son, husband and two dogs and spends her free time cooking Indian food and exploring the culinary landscape of Southern California.  Check out more of her work at:  https://brightworknewmusic.com/tuesdays-at-monk-space/  https://www.lyrisquartet.com/    Transcript  Opening: [00:00:00] Apex Express Asian Pacific expression. Community and cultural coverage, music and calendar, new visions and voices, coming to you with an Asian Pacific Islander point of view. It's time to get on board the APEX Express.    00:01:03 Isabel Li  You're listening to Obbligato, which is a segment about the Asian American Pacific Islander community, specifically in classical music.  00:01:11 Isabel Li  I'm your host, Isabel Li, and today joining me is Shalini Vijayan, who is a violinist, established performer, and always an advocate for modern music.  00:01:21 Isabel Li  Shalini is also a founding member of the Lyris Quartet, one of Los Angeles most beloved chamber ensembles. With Lyris, she has performed regularly at Walt Disney Concert Hall on the Green Umbrella series for Jacaranda Music, and helped to found the Here and Now Music Festival in Venice, California, a festival dedicated to the music of living composers in Los Angeles. She joined acclaimed LA ensemble Brightwork New Music in 2019, and also serves as the curator for Brightwork's Tuesdays at Monk Space series. She currently lives in Los Angeles with her son, husband and two dogs, and spends her free time cooking Indian food and exploring the culinary landscape of Southern California.  00:02:04 Isabel Li  Well, Shalini, thank you so much for joining me in this conversation today.  00:02:09 Shalini Vijayan  I'm so happy to be with you.  00:02:11 Isabel Li  Awesome. I'd like to just get to know you and your story. How do you identify and what communities do you consider yourself a part of?  00:02:18 Shalini Vijayan  I use the pronouns she, her, and I. Um, I identify as South Asian. I grew up in an Indian family. My parents immigrated to the US in the sixties to teach at medical school. And I grew up with a great deal of Indian culture. And I've spent a lot of time going back and forth to India from the time that I was very young. You know, it's interesting because I feel like in LA, where I live and work specifically, there is so much overlap between all of our different musical communities. You know, I went to school in New York, and I feel like there I was much more, I'm very connected to the new music community in New York and felt really kind of entrenched in that at the time I was there. And after coming to LA, I realized that, um, there are a lot of musicians doing so many different things. That's one of the things I love about Los Angeles, actually. And, you know, I'm definitely very, very rooted in the new music community in LA. And that was where I made my first sort of connections when I first moved to Los Angeles. But I also, you know, worked in an orchestra when I first came to LA. I played in the Pacific Symphony for almost ten seasons, and so I became a part of that community as well. And you know, as the years went on, I also became much more involved in the studio music community of LA studio musicians playing on movie scores, playing on television shows, records, what have you, Awards shows, all sorts of things. And these are all very distinct communities in LA in music. But I see a ton of overlap between all of them. There are so many incredibly versatile musicians in Los Angeles that people are able to really very easily move from one of these groups to the other and, you know, with a great deal of success. And I feel like it gives us so much variety in our lives as musicians in LA, you don't feel like you're ever just in one lane. You can really occupy all these different kinds of spaces.  00:04:23 Isabel Li  Right, yeah. So you're classically trained, from what I know, and you describe yourself as an advocate for modern music. So why modern music?  00:04:33 Shalini Vijayan  That's a great question. I have have had to answer this question quite a bit over the years, especially to non-musicians. And it's always an interesting story for me. You know, as a violinist in particular, you know, we have such a storied history of repertoire and pedagogy, and there is such an incredible, um, library of music that we have access to from the very standard classical repertoire. And there is a great deal to be learned about the instrument and about music from playing all that repertoire. I think at some point when I was in high school, I started to become interested in more modern music. And actually I grew up in Davis in Northern California.   My parents both taught at the university there, at the medical school and in Sacramento. Nearby there was a festival of modern American music that I think still goes on to this day at Cal State University, Sacramento. And it was really a great festival. And at that time, you know, they would bring professional artists, they'd have composers, they'd have commissions, all sorts of things. But at the time that I was like in high school, they also had a junior division to the festival, and I was asked to play a couple pieces in the Festival of, um, Modern Works, and I can't remember at this time what the pieces were, but it left such a huge impression on me. And I think what I really took away from that experience as a kid is that in my studies as a violinist, I was always being asked to sort of live up to this history and this legacy of violin music and violin playing in Western classical music. And it's a very high bar. And it's, um, you know, of course, there's so much great stuff there. But there was something so freeing about playing this music that had either never been played or not been recorded. So there was nothing to reference in terms of listening to a recording, um, and listening to how you, you know, quote, should be playing it that it made me feel, uh, you know, all this, this freedom to really interpret the music, how I felt, rather than feeling like I had to live up to a standard that had been set for me, you know, decades or centuries before. And I think that really something really clicked for me with that, that I wanted to have that kind of freedom when I, when I was playing. And so from there on out, um, you know, when I went to college and I really sought out opportunities in new music as much as I could.  00:07:00 Isabel Li  So you were first exposed to new music when you were in high school. Did that influence your decision to become a musician at all? Or were you already set on becoming a musician and that was just part of what shaped your works over the years.  00:07:15 Shalini Vijayan  I think by that time, I had already decided that I wanted to be a musician. I mean, as you know, so many of us as musicians and I think particularly string players, we decide so young because we start our instruments at such a young age and we start studying so early. Um, that I think by that time I, I had decided I wanted to do music, but this sort of opened another door for me that made me realize that it wasn't just one path in music necessarily. I think it's very easy as a, as a kid and as a violinist to think you admire these great soloists that you see and, you know, people like Perlman and, you know, Isaac Stern, who were the stars of the time when I was growing up. But, you know, you get to be in high school and you realize that hasn't happened yet. It's probably not going to happen. And so, you know, what's then then what's your path forward? How do you find a life in music if you're not going to be one of these stars? And I think, you know, new music really opened up that opportunity for me. And yeah, made me look at things a little differently for sure.  00:08:18 Isabel Li  And currently you're in the contemporary classical music ensemble, Brightwork newmusic, and you curate the ensemble's concert series, Tuesdays @ Monk Space. So how do you go about curating concerts with music by contemporary or living composers? What do you look for?  00:08:33 Shalini Vijayan  Well, right now I'm really focused on trying to represent our new music community in LA at Monk Space, which is such, you know, we have such a diverse community of musicians, not just in the makeup of who the people are making the music or writing the music, but also in just the styles of music. And so I think I try to really represent a very diverse set of aesthetics in our season. Um, you know, everything from, you know, last season we had, uh, Niloufar Shiri, who is a traditional Persian kamancheh player, but she also she can play very in a very traditional way, but she also plays with a jazz pianist. And, you know, it does all this very improvisatory stuff. And, you know, then we would have other programs where everything is very much written out and very through, composed and you know, it's been a very wide variety. And, you know, when I try to build the season, I try to make sure that it's really balanced in terms of, you know, the different types of things you'll be hearing because not every audience member is going to want to engage with every type of music. Um, or, you know, if we if we really stuck to one style and it was just in that language for the whole season, then I feel like we would, you know, alienate potential audience members. But with this, I feel like if we can bring people in for one concert and they're really into it, then hopefully they'll come to something else that is new and different for them and be exposed to something that they may really get into after that. So yeah, I think diversity and variety is really where I try to start from.  00:10:09 Isabel Li  How does that engage the community? Have you observed audience reception to this type of new music when there are composers from all different types of backgrounds?  00:10:20 Shalini Vijayan  Yeah, definitely. I mean, I think that each composer and each artist brings their own community into the space, which and so that's another. I feel like another strong reason why I try to make things very different from concert to concert. And, you know, we have some younger players who come in and bring in, you know, everyone from college students to, you know, their friends and family. And then, you know, really established composers. Like this season we have Bill Roper, who is kind of a legend in the music community in LA. Mult instrumentalist and composer who has been around for decades. And, you know, I think people will come out just because they want to see him and he's such a draw. And, um, you know, I, I also would love to be able to incorporate more world music into the series. Like I said, we did do Niloufar concert, which I felt like I really hoped would like engage with the Persian community in LA as well. And a couple seasons ago we had Rajna Swaminathan, who is, I just think, an incredible artist. Um, she plays mridangam, which is a South Indian percussion instrument, but she also writes for Western instruments, uh, and herself. And we had her and a pianist and then Ganavya, who's a vocalist who's amazing. And, you know, Ganavya had her own following. So we had and Rajna has her own following. So we had a whole full audience that night of people who I had never seen in the space before. And that was for me. That's a success because we're bringing in new friends and new engagement. And, um, I was really excited about that. When I'm able to make those kinds of connections with new people, then that feels like a success to me.  00:12:05 Isabel Li  Certainly.  00:12:06 Isabel Li  Let's hear one of Shalini's performances. This is an excerpt from the 10th of William Kraft's “Encounters”, a duologue for violin and marimba, performed here by Shalini Vijayan with Southwest Chamber Music.  00:12:20 [MUSIC – Encounters X: Duologue for Violin & Marimba]  00:17:18 Isabel Li  An excerpt from William Kraft's Encounters, the 10th of which is called Duologue for Violin and Marimba, that was performed by Shalini Vijayan, the violinist, with Southwest Chamber Music.  00:17:31 Isabel Li  And Shalini is here with me in conversation today. We've been discussing contemporary music and her involvement in the new music scene, specifically in Los Angeles.  00:17:40 Isabel Li  Music is all about community, drawing people together. So going back to how you describe yourself as an advocate for modern music, what are other ways that you have advocated for modern music besides curating the concert series?  00:17:53 Shalini Vijayan  Well, over the years, um, you know, I feel like in all the ensembles I've been in, there's been a real focus on commissioning composers and on performing works that have not been, uh, either performed or recorded before. And I feel like the only way to really get the music out there is to, obviously, is to play it and hopefully to be able to record it. We've worked especially with the lyrics quartet. We've worked with so many young composers in LA either just strictly, you know, contemporary classical composers or even film composers who, um, have works that they'd like to have recorded. And, you know, it's been great to see a lot of those people go on to really amazing things and to be a part of their journey, uh, and to help support them. And, uh, the other thing that the quartet has been heavily involved in and now Bright Work Ensemble has been involved in as well, is the Here Now music festival, which has been going on in LA for well over a decade now. We were involved in the first, um, seasons of that festival. We've been one of the resident ensembles since the very beginning, and that festival is dedicated to the music of LA and Southern California composers. And, um, we have a call for scores every year that we, the four of us in the quartet, are part of the panel that reviews all the scores, along with a lot of our other colleagues, um, who are involved with the festival, and Hugh Levick, who is the artistic director of the festival and has we've worked side by side with him on this for a very long time. And that's also been a fantastic avenue for, um, meeting new composers, hearing new works, having them performed. And the thing I always say about that festival every time it comes around, usually in the spring we have at least three concerts. It's this incredible coming together of the new music community in Southern California, where all these great composers and all these amazing players come together and play these series of concerts, because there's such a vast number of pieces that end up getting programmed. They can't rely on just like one group or one or two groups to play them. So it really pulls in a lot of players from all over town. And I don't know, it always just feels like a really fun time, a fun weekend for all of us to see each other and connect. And, um, and again, just build our community to be even stronger.  00:20:20 Isabel Li  That's really cool. How do you ignite interest in new music? Because this is a genre that I think is slightly underrepresented or just underrepresented in general in both the classical music community and the music industry as a whole.  00:20:35 Shalini Vijayan  That's a great question, and I think it's a really important question for our whole industry and community. How do you engage people in new music and get them into a concert? Um, you know, I think one of the biggest hurdles for classical music in general, I will say, um, when I talk to people about why they don't want to come to a concert or why they don't want to, you know, let's say, go see the LA Phil or, you know, wherever, whatever city they're in, the major cultural music institution. I think there is a misconception generally that, oh, it's, you know, I have to be dressed a certain way or I it's going to be really stuffy. And, um, I, you know, I don't know what to wear or I don't know how I'm supposed to dress or how I'm supposed to act when I'm in the concert. Am I going to clap at the wrong time? You know, is it going to be really long? And, you know, and I and I get it, you know, I mean, I understand why that would be uncomfortable for a lot of people.   And it's not, um, it's something that necessarily everyone has grown up with or that it's been a part of their life. So I think it's really up to us, as you know, when we're on the side of programming concerts or putting together festivals or whatever, um, that we make things more accessible in terms of, um, concert length and interaction with audience. And, um, you know, I think it's I know I've been told so many times and I really think it's important that I think audiences love it when performers talk to them, when they talk about the music and, and set things up for a listener. I think that puts a kind of context on things that makes it so much easier for perhaps a new audience member, someone who's never come to a concert before to feel at ease and feel like, okay, I know what I'm getting into.   One of our, actually our former executive director at Brightwork, Sarah Wass, who was fantastic, and I was very happy to work with when I was just starting out programming, Monk Space had the idea of putting on the program the running time of the pieces, and I think even that is just something that, like, can prepare people for what they're getting into when they're about to listen to something new. And in terms of the music itself, I think that if someone, especially a younger person, doesn't feel like they have any connection to Beethoven or Brahms or Mozart, they might actually feel more connected to someone who is their age or a little older.   Someone who has had similar life experiences to them, or grown up in the same era as them, rather than someone who grew up, you know, in the seventeen hundreds. You know, there can be more of a real connection there, and that that person is writing this music and reflection of their life and their experiences. And, um, you know, again, I think that kind of context is important for a listener. And yeah. And then just lastly, I would say also, I feel like our space at Monk space is very inviting. It's very low key. It's, um, you know, it's casual, it's comfortable. Role. Um, we have, you know, snacks and a bar and, you know, everyone is very relaxed at intermission and has a good time. And I mean, for me, every time we host one of those concerts, I feel like I'm hosting a little party, you know? That's what it feels like for me. And that's what I want it to feel like for the audience as well.  00:23:52 Isabel Li  That brings up a really good point in that new music can make classical music or a new classical music, contemporary music, more accessible to different audiences. And certainly I've definitely heard the complaint from people over the years about classical music being a little too uptight. Would you say that these are two different genres?  00:24:11 Shalini Vijayan  I think that there is overlap, and I think, you know, for an ensemble like ours, like Brightwork, we have chosen to make our focus new music. So that's our thing. That's what we do. Um, and, uh, all of our concerts and our programming reflect that. Very rarely do we do anything that's not considered a contemporary piece. Um, but, you know, if you do look at some of our major institutions, like I think the LA Phil and I think the San Francisco Symphony, um, earlier, you know, like in the nineties under MTT, really started to pave the way for incorporating contemporary music into a standard classical format. And, you know, I think that's been very important. And I think it's really changed the way that orchestras have programmed across the country. And there has been such a nurturing of contemporary music in larger spaces. Now that I think that kind of overlap has started to happen much more frequently. I think that in more conservative settings, sometimes there's pushback against that. And even even, you know, in some of the places that I play, you know, sometimes with with the lyrics quartet, um, we are asked to just purely program standard classical repertoire, and we will occasionally throw in a little short piece, you know, just to try and put something in there, you know, something that's very accessible. Um, and, uh, you know that we know the audience will like so that we can help them, you know, kind of get over that fear of connecting to a newer piece. And I, I think in some ways, that's where the path forward lies, is that we have to integrate those things, you know, in order to keep kind of the old traditions of classical music alive. I think we have to keep the newer tradition alive as well, and find a way to put them in the same space.  00:26:00 Isabel Li  I certainly agree with that.  00:26:01 Isabel Li  Let's hear more of Shalini's work in new music. This is a performance of the first movement of Atlas Pumas by Gabriela Ortiz. Violinist Shalini Vijayan is joined by percussionist Lynn Vartan.  00:26:18 [MUSIC – Atlas Pumas, mvt 1 by Gabriela Ortiz]  00:29:21 Isabel Li  The first movement of Gabriela Ortiz's Atlas Pumas played here by violinist Shalini Vijian, and Lynn Vartan plays the marimba.  00:29:30 Isabel Li  And Shalini is actually joining us here for a conversation about new music, performances, identity, and representation.  00:29:38 Isabel Li  Many Asian American Pacific Islander artists in music have varying relationships between their art and their identity. I was wondering, to what extent do you feel that perhaps your South Asian identity intersects or influences the work that you do with music?  00:29:54 Shalini Vijayan  Growing up, um, you know, I grew up in a in a university town in Northern California and, you know, a lot of highly educated and, you know, kids of professors and, you know, but still not the most terribly diverse place. And then going into classical music. And this was, you know, in the early nineties when I went to college, um, it still was not a particularly it was very much not a diverse place at all. And, um, there certainly were a lot of Asian students at, um, Manhattan School of Music where I did my my studies.   But I would say it was a solid decade before I was ever in any sort of classical music situation where there was another South Asian musician. I very, very rarely met any South Asian musicians, and it wasn't until I went to the New World Symphony in the early late nineties, early two thousand, and I was a musician there. I was a fellow in that program there for three years that I walked into the first rehearsal, and there were three other South Asian, I think, of Indian descent musicians in the orchestra, and I was absolutely blown away because I literally had not, um, other than here and there at some festivals, I had not met any other South Asian classical musicians.   So it was really like that was the hallmark moment for me. It was a really big deal. And coming with my family, coming from India, you know, there is such a strong tradition of Indian classical music, of Carnatic music and Hindustani music. And, um, it's such a long, long tradition. And, you know, the people who have studied it and lived with it are, you know, they study it their whole lives to be proficient in it. And it's such an incredible, incredible art form and something that I admire so much. And I did as a kid. Take a few lessons here and there. I took some Carnatic singing lessons, um, and a little bit of tabla lessons when I was very young. Um, but I think somewhere in middle school or high school, I kind of realized that it was, for me at least, I wasn't, um, able to put enough time into both because both of them, you know, playing the violin in a Western classical style and then studying Indian classical music require a tremendous amount of effort and a tremendous amount of study. And I at that point chose to go with Western classical music, because that's what I'd been doing since I was five years old. But there has always kind of been this longing for me to be more connected to Indian classical music. Um, I'll go back again to Rajna. When I presented Rajna Swaminathan on Monk Space a couple of years ago, it was a really meaningful thing for me, because that's kind of what I'd always wanted to see was a joining together of that tradition, the Indian tradition with the Western tradition. And, um, I'm so happy that I'm starting to see that more and more with a lot of the artists that are coming up now. But at the time when I was young, it just it felt almost insurmountable that to to find a way to bring the two together. And, um, I remember very clearly as a kid listening to this, um, there was an album that Philip Glass did with Ravi Shankar, and I thought that was so cool at the time. And I used to listen to it over and over again because I just again, I was so amazed that these things could come together and in a, in a kind of successful way. Um, but yeah, there is, you know, there there's a part of me that would still love to go back and explore that more that, that side of it. Um, and but I will say also, I'm very happy now to see a lot more South Asian faces when I, you know, go to concerts on stage and in the audience. And, you know, a lot of composers that I've worked with now, um, of South Asian descent, it's been, you know, I've worked with Reena Esmail and Anuj Bhutani and Rajna and, um, there's so many more, and I'm so glad to see how they're all incorporating their connection to their culture to, to this, you know, Western kind of format of classical music. And they're all doing it in different ways. And it's it's really amazing.  00:34:22 Isabel Li  That's fantastic.  00:34:24 Isabel Li  I was wondering if you could maybe describe what this merging or combination of different styles entails. Do you think this makes it more accessible to audiences of two different cultures?  00:34:36 Shalini Vijayan  For me, one example, before I started running the series at Tuesdays at Monk Space, Aron Kallay, who is our Bright Work artistic director, had asked me to come and do a solo show on Monk Space, which I did in November of 2019.  00:34:52 Shalini Vijayan  And at the time, I wanted to commission a piece that did exactly that, that, that, um, involved some sort of Indian classical instrument or kind of the language of Indian classical music. And so I actually did reach out to Reena Esmail, and she wrote me a very cool piece called blaze that was for tabla and violin. Um, and I really had so much fun doing that. And Reena, Reena really has a very fluid way of writing for the violin, which she actually was a violinist, too. So she's she's really good at doing that. But being able to write for any melodic instrument or for the voice, which she does quite a bit as well, and incorporating sort of the tonality of Indian classical music, which obviously has its own scales and, um, has its own harmonic, harmonic world that is different from the Western world, um, but finds a way to translate that into the written note notation that we require as, uh, Western classical musicians. And, you know, I think that's the biggest gap to bridge, is that in Indian classical music, nothing is notated. Everything is handed down in an oral tradition, um, over the generations. And for us, everything is notated. And in Indian classical music, you know, there's much more improvisation. And now, of course, with modern classical music, there now is a lot more improvisation involved. But in our old standard tradition, obviously there isn't. And in the way that we're trained, mostly we're not trained to be improvisers. And um, so it's it was great. She has a great way of writing so that it kind of sounds like things are being tossed off and sounding sounds like they're being improvised, but they are actually fully notated, um, which I really appreciated.  00:36:50 Isabel Li  Yeah.  00:36:51 Isabel Li  So your career has spanned orchestras, recording ensembles, chamber music. Having had so much experience in these types of performance, what does representation in classical music mean to you?  00:37:04 Shalini Vijayan  Well, representation is is very important because we're talking about a tradition that was built on white men from centuries ago, European white men. And and it's again, it's an incredible tradition and there's so much great repertoire. But I'm going to circle back to what you were saying or what you asked me about connecting to audiences and, you know, connecting to audiences with new music. It's I think people like to see themselves reflected in the art that they choose. They choose to consume. And, you know, whether that's movies or television or music, I think that's how you connect with your audience is by being a bit of a mirror.  I think the only way that we can really continue to connect with a diverse audience is by having that type of diverse representation on our stages and on our recordings. And again, also not just the people, but the types of music, too. You know, musical tastes run wide, genres run wide as well. And it's I think It's good for all of us to be exposed to a lot of different kinds of music, to figure out what we connect with the most. And, um, yeah, the only way we can do that is by really, you know, opening our arms to a, a much wider variety of styles of music. And so I, you know, I mentioned improvisation, improvisation earlier. And I think that is something that's now starting to happen so much more in modern classical music. And, you know, I think there's something about the energy that a player has when they're improvising that is maybe not something that an audience member could quantify verbally, but there's a looseness and a freedom there that I think, you know, for a lot of audience members, they probably really can connect to. And, you know, that's a lot of why people go and listen to jazz is because there's so much freedom and there's so much improvisation.   I've been very lucky to be able to work with, um, Wadada Leo Smith, who's a trumpet player and composer. I've worked with him for probably almost ten years now. And um, through Wadada, actually, I have learned to become much more comfortable with improvising on stage and not within a jazz language of any kind or any kind of harmonic structure necessarily, but within the language of his music, which is very unique and very open and very free and, um, but also has a really strong core in its connection to history. And, um, you know, he's written a lot of amazing works about the civil rights movement and about a lot of, you know, important moments in history for our country. And, um, that's been a real learning experience for me to connect with him in that, in that way and learn from him and learn to be more comfortable with improvisation. Because I think growing up, improvisation for me always meant jazz, and that was not a language I was comfortable in. And um, or even, you know, jazz or rock music or folk music or whatever, you know, it was just not something that came naturally to me as a kid to, I mean, I listened to all of it. I listened to everything when I was a kid, but I never played in any of those styles. And I think the older you get, the scarier it gets to start branching out in those ways. But, um, I think, uh, that's been a an incredible, like, new branch of my life in the last decade has been working with Wadada.  [MUSIC – “Dred Scott, 1857,” from Ten Freedom Summers, by Wadada Leo Smith]  00:42:23 Isabel Li  An excerpt of Wadada Leo Smith's music to give you a sense of the jazz influences in these types of contemporary new music pieces that also touch on pieces of history. This was an excerpt from his album, Ten Freedom Summers, which also consists of compositions based on pieces of American history. For example, what we just heard was from a piece called Dred Scott, 1857.  00:42:49 Isabel Li  Now that I realize that we've been having a conversation about new music, I realize that, hmm, when does new music really start? So if you take a look at maybe music history, when does new music really become new music?  00:43:07 Shalini Vijayan  I guess it depends on who you ask, probably. Um, it's it's pretty recent. You know, it has to be really legitimately pretty new. And, um, again, you know, if you ask an audience member, um, and I think of some of my friends or family who are maybe who are not musicians who come to concerts, and I'm always so interested in talking to them and hearing their opinions about things. Um, you know, they will listen to Bartok and say, oh, that sounds like new music to me. But, you know, Bartok, Bartok passed away a long time ago, and it's, you know, and for me, that's more like canon now. You know, that's like now for me, part of the the standard repertoire. But there was a time when Bartok was new music. And I think for, you know, maybe the listeners who are more comfortable with the very diatonic, you know, world of Beethoven, Brahms, Mozart, then something like Bartok really does sound so modern for me. Boy, maybe around the time that minimalism started, you know, John Adams and Steve Reich, Terry Riley, Philip Glass, all of that for me feels like maybe that's the older like the The edge of new music now even though that was that would be the eighties, probably seventies 80s, you know, but that we're talking about like, you know, fifty years ago. So yeah, I mean, it's not that new, but those are all still living composers. So maybe, maybe that's part of what it is for me is that it's the composers of our era, the composers who are alive, who we can communicate with and ask questions of. And, um, you know, at the very least, if you can't talk to John Adams, you can talk to somebody who has worked directly with him and get their impressions of how something should be played, um, as opposed to composers who have been gone for hundreds of years. And you can't have that level of communication with them. I think that, for me is what new music, new music is about. It's about working with living composers and, um, having that type of interaction.  00:45:15 Isabel Li  Yeah. So would the word or the phrase contemporary classical music, be a little oxymoronic in a sense?  00:45:26 Shalini Vijayan  No, I don't think so. I think it's still part of the same tradition. Um, yeah. I really do think it is, because I think there is a lineage there. Um, for a lot of composers, not all of them, um, that I mean, I think particularly if you're writing for, let's say, an orchestra or a string quartet or sort of one of these very standard classical ensembles. Um, even if you're writing in a very new language and you're writing in a very different way, I think there is still a through line to the canon of classical music. I guess for me, new music and classical music are not mutually exclusive. I think they can be the same. So I don't I don't think they're totally different. I think that there is a lot of a lot of overlap.  00:46:16 Isabel Li  For sure, considering how new music fits into the classical music or the classical music industry as a whole. Have you noticed any sorts of shifts in the classical music industry in the past several decades in regards to diversity, equity, inclusion? And have you just noticed any changes?  00:46:35 Shalini Vijayan  I have noticed some changes. I mean, I think that most organizations in this country are making an effort to be more inclusive in their programming now. And, um, you know, another another South Asian composer who I just think is fantastic is Nina Shekhar. And, um, she has had pieces played by the New York Phil for the last couple seasons. I mean, you know, so on on major, major stages, I feel like now I'm seeing more representation and that is definitely Encouraging and, um, you know, uh, same for Anuj and Rajna and Reena. They've all, you know, had their works done by major ensembles. And, um, I think I think there is definitely movement in that direction, for sure. I think it could always be more.   I think also for women and women composers, women performers, I think that has also always been a struggle to find enough representation of women composers and you know, especially if like as I mentioned before, when you're in a situation where an organization asks you to program a concert, like, let's say, for our quartet and wants much more standard repertoire than it does limit you, you know, how because there isn't much from the older canon. You know, there is. You know, there's Fanny Mendelssohn and Clara Schumann and, um, you know, I think in the last five to ten years they've both been played a lot more, which is great. But, you know, I think, uh, there's so many amazing female composers right now that I think are starting to get much more recognition. And I think that just needs to be more, more and more, um, but, uh, you know, that is why, again, like on those programs, sometimes we try to just sneak one modern piece in because it's important for those voices to be heard as well. But yes, I do see some forward movement in that direction with, um, classical programming. And, you know, you just have to hope that the intent is always genuine in those situations. And I think, um, you know, I think that's the most important thing. And giving a platform to those voices is really important.  00:48:59 Isabel Li  How would you go about arts advocacy during this current time when, well, the arts are being defunded and devalued by our current administration and how everything is going on right now?  00:49:10 Shalini Vijayan  Yeah, it's really, really difficult right now. And, um, you know, I think a lot of arts organizations are losing a lot of government funding. Obviously, I know of a couple projects that lost their NEA funding because of DEI, and which is so disheartening. And, um, I think, you know, there's going to be a lot of leaning on private donors to try and, uh, make up that difference or, you know, private foundations to make up the difference in funding, hopefully. And, um, uh, you know, it's yeah, it's scary. It's  a scary time. And I think, you know, even for private funding and, um, private donors, it's, you know, everyone is feeling stressed and feeling concerned about our future right now, just as a country. and there's so much uncertainty. And, um, but I think people who really rely on the arts for all the things that it can provide, you know, an escape and pleasure and, you know, stimulation of a different kind. And especially in a time like this, when you want to be able to get away from maybe what's going on around you, you know, I'm hoping we can find a way to really come together and, um, kind of, you know, rally around each other and find a way to support each other. But, um, I think it is going to be hard for the next few years if we can't find ways to replace that funding that so many people have lost. And I certainly don't think that anyone wants to back away from the progress that's been made with inclusion and representation, you know, just to get funding. So I know we have to be very creative with our path ahead and find a way to, to keep doing what we're doing in this current environment.  00:51:07 Isabel Li  Yeah, on a brighter note, I read about your work with Lyris Quartet earlier this year when you presented a concert with Melodia Mariposa called Altadena Strong with the Lyris Quartet, raising funds for those who have been affected by the LA fires. Can you talk a bit about the power of music? And we're going to end on a stronger note here about the power of music in bringing communities together and accelerating community healing.  00:51:31 Shalini Vijayan  Well, I have to say that concert was really a special one for us. You know, um, so many musicians were affected by the fires in LA. And, you know, I, I've lived in LA for over twenty years now, almost twenty five years and, um, certainly seen my share of wildfires and disasters, but this one hit so much more close to home than any of the other ones have. And, you know, I know at least twenty five people who lost their homes in between the Palisades and Altadena and Altadena in particular.   When I moved to LA, it was a place where a lot of musicians were moving to because you could it was cheaper and you could get a lot of space, and it's beautiful. And, you know, they really built a beautiful community there among all the musicians out there. And it's just heartbreaking, um, to see how many of them have lost everything. And I have to say, Irina Voloshina, who is the woman who runs Melodia Mariposa, and just an amazing violinist and an amazing, wonderful, warm, generous person. You know, she started that series in her driveway during COVID as a way to just keep music going during the pandemic, and it really turned into something so great. And she's, you know, got a whole organization with her now and puts on multiple concerts a year. And when she asked us if we would play that concert for the community in Altadena is, you know, there's no question that we were going to do it. I mean, we absolutely jumped at the chance to support her and support the organization and that community. And people really came out for that concert and were so excited to be there and were so warm and, um, you know, and and she talked to the crowd and really connected with everybody on a very personal level, because she also lost her home in Altadena and, um, you know, it was it was a really meaningful show for all of us. And again, those are the moments where you realize that you can use this art to really connect with people that you may have never met before and show your your love for them, you know, through music, as corny as that may sound, but it's true.  00:53:54 Isabel Li  Yeah, definitely. Well, thank you so much, Shalini, for sharing your visions, your knowledge with new music and community building with us today. Thank you so much for being on Obbligato.  00:54:07 Shalini Vijayan  Thank you so much for having me, Isabel. It was really a pleasure.  00:54:10 Isabel Li  What a wonderful conversation that was with LA-based violinist Shalini Vijayan. If you go to kpfa.org, you can check out more of her work. I put the links to two of her ensembles, Brightwork New Music and Lyris Quartet up on kpfa.org. And thank you for listening to our conversation here on Obbligato on Apex Express.  00:54:32 Isabel Li  We thank all of you listeners out there. Keep resisting, keep organizing, keep creating, and sharing your visions with the world. Your voices are important.  00:54:42 Isabel Li  APEX Express is produced by Miko Lee, Jalena Keane-Lee, Preeti Mangala Shekar, Anuj Vaidya, Swati Rayasam, and Cheryl Truong. Tonight's show was produced by Isabel Li. Thanks to the team at KPFA for their support. Have a great night.  [OUTRO MUSIC]  The post APEX Express – 11.13.25 – Obbligato with Violinist Shalini Vijayan appeared first on KPFA.

Spider webs are both works of art and extremely practical, and there's new research that finds they're even more practical than we've realized. Plus: in Tulsa, Oklahoma, there's a new art installation made from more than 45,000 guitar picks. Spiders weave secret alarm system through web zigzags for prey detection, study finds (Interesting Engineering)BOK reveals new art installation made with over 45,000 guitar picks (FOX 23)Help build this show on the world wide web as a backer on Patreon

Learn how to improve your clinic's local SEO and rank in nearby cities. Discover proven strategies to expand your reach, attract more patients, and grow your visibility beyond your location.​Let's say your clinic is based in one city, but many of your patients are willing to drive 20 or even 30 miles to see you. They know it's worth traveling for high-quality care. The challenge is that when those same people search online, they often aren't typing in your city's name. They're looking for services closer to where they live or work.So how can your clinic show up in those searches and attract new patients from surrounding cities or suburbs?That's what we're exploring today: how to expand your local SEO reach the right way. We'll cover how Google determines local relevance, the strategies that actually help you appear in nearby city searches, and what to avoid so you don't hurt your visibility.By the end, you'll have a clear roadmap for building a stronger local presence that helps patients in your wider area discover your clinic and book appointments with confidence.Episode webpages, blog, & show notes: https://propelyourcompany.com/rank-in-nearby-cities-local-seo-for-clinics/Send in your questions. ❤ We'd love to hear from you!NEW Webinar: How to dominate Google Search, Google Maps, AI-driven search results, and get more new patients.>> Save your spot

Today's environmental recording captures the sound of an area within Forest Park that few people gave much thought to, until a headline grabbed their attention 21 years ago.In 2004, a pair of off-trail endurance runners came across a father and daughter living in a dugout shelter in Portland's 5200 acre Forest Park. They had been living there for four years.Upon discovery, police were dispatched for a wellness check. Eventually one officer helped the two resettle on a horse farm where the father, Frank, worked and they attended the local church. They left the farm after about a month, never to be heard from again. Their story inspired Peter Rock's 2009 fictionalized novel My Abandonment, which was adapted into the acclaimed 2018 film Leave No Trace.When first discovered, Frank was 53 and Ruth was 12. Their makeshift home was constructed on the side of a steep hill, not far from where this recording was made. Inside the shelter were encyclopedias, a bible, toys, a doll, sleeping bags. Nearby was a planted vegetable garden and a water catchment structure.“But how could a 53 year old father with a 12 year old daughter survive in this thick, dense forest for four years?” asks a reporter as he bushwhacks down a brushy hillside in a 2004 segment for KATU news. “Well, police say Frank's a smart guy, college-educated. He's also an ex-marine who served two tours in Vietnam.”The reporter concludes, “So why would a father with no job, but a $400 a month disability check, hide in the forest? Those that saw them on their weekly walks out of the woods to church, the library and to buy food say it was a father's fear society might separate him from the one he loves.” Amateur mystery detectives on Reddit wanted to know more. Based on the few details in the 2004 news stories, they placed the father, Frank Trecarten, in articles 20 years prior in 1984, describing a manhunt for a mountain man or “survivalist”, in Quebec and New Hampshire after allegations of desecrating an church altar and attempted arson. Then in 2005, log books for Appalachian Trail hikers signed by “Mountain Man” and “Miss Mountain Dew”—believed to be trail names for Frank and Ruth—were discovered. A photo corroborates the placement with the identifying note: Frank “Trefcarten”. Most recently, in 2013, the name Frank Treecarten reappears in articles outlining a flare gun shooting assault in Concord, New Hampshire, where it appears Frank was charged with two felonies and held on $8,000 bail. The verdict in the case is unknown.These details paint the story in a more acute light, potentially revealing a decades-long pattern of living on the fringes, possibly exacerbated by PTSD.I re-watched Leave No Trace and listened to the My Abandonment audiobook. Although the movie is adapted from the book, they diverge significantly, especially approaching their conclusions. The book is decidedly more tragic, while the movie hits a more optimistic note. The optimist in me wants the film to be closer to the truth. One can't help but wonder about Ruth, who would be in her mid 30's now, and Frank, now in his mid 70‘s. If amateur investigators are to be believed, Ruth is now married and living in Oregon. Another thing that I noticed and appreciated in the film was how sparse the score was. It was barely there. It inspired me to further pare down my own future scores, letting the soundscape “take solos”. Additionally, a lot of films get the wildlife sounds wrong, but this was better than most. Varied Thrush, and Northern Pygmy Owl stood out to my ear. I don't remember hearing Pacific Wren though; a true soundmark of Forest Park. That late May morning I sat in the middle of the Maple Trail above Saltzman Creek. No one passed by. The trail had been closed for some time following bridge damage. Portions of steel decking were broken off and the railing remained squashed from the impact of a fallen tree. While there, I made an oil pastel drawing while soaking up the tranquil setting. I also made a half-hearted attempt to scout around looking some clue of a former habitation; a whisper trail, a depression. Then it occurred to me that I really didn't know precisely where to look. That ridge or this ridge? It seemed pointless, really. Perhaps the reason that this story still looms so large in imaginations is because it makes us confront how estranged we truly are from the old ways: living light in the woods, not too far removed from hunting and gathering. We don't really hear these kind of narratives in the USA anymore. We are aghast to discover that a father and daughter did so, undetected, for four years in a city nature park. It defied expectation. I wonder what this says about us; about the velocity and trajectory of civilization? I don't have any conclusions of my own to offer. All I know is a young person, I spent nights discretely camped at a few dubious spots while cycling across the USA. You definitely sleep lighter. I can't imagine that kind of background anxiety over the long term.My score attempts to hold these two things in tension: the wonder and a the discomfort of living outdoors, close to the land, peering into its wildness.Thanks for listening and reading. Saltzman Creek is available under the artist name Listening Spot on all streaming platforms today Friday, October 24th, 2025. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit chadcrouch.substack.com/subscribe

Eine unheimliche Horrorgeschichte: Nun, Bill glaubte daran, dass etwas in seinem Haus leben würde. Was es war, wusste er nicht genau, trotzdem war es dort, physisch und manifest – selbst wenn es keine herkömmliche Erklärung dafür gäbe._______________________________________Übersetzung: Portgas D. Shiro/vikaLektorat: TattelQuelle: http://www.creepypasta.org/creepypasta/nearbyVerfasst von: Michael Whitehouse_______________________________________

Paul Robertson, associate professor of physics and astronomy at the University of California, Irvine, is co-author of a new paper in The Astronomical Journal on an exoplanet that is tantalizingly close to Earth. The proximity of this exoplanet helps astronomers glean more details about it. They want to know how it compares in size to Earth, if it has an atmosphere, and if it is in the habitable zone, a distance from the host star that would make it possible for the planet to have liquid water on its surface, a key ingredient to support potential life. In this episode of the UC Irvine Podcast, Robertson discusses the tools he and his team used to characterize this exoplanet and what he hopes to learn in future exoplanet hunting efforts.

Rio de Janeiro, 1966. A hill called Morro do Vintém. Two men in suits and raincoats, lying side by side on on a hill. No wounds. No struggle. Just… still. And over their eyes? Hand-cut lead masks. Not helmets. Not radiation gear. Just slabs of metal shielding their eyes. In their pockets: receipts for raincoats, a bar tab for one bottle of mineral water, a little cash. Nearby: two towels. A notebook with a single line in it: “18:30—ingest capsules. After effect—protect metals. Await signal—mask.” Who wrote it? And what “signal” were they waiting for—God? A UFO?Thanks to the TIN FOIL MULISHAExclusive episodes on Patreon https://www.patreon.com/c/ufonopodcast Join the Tin Foil Mulisha Discord:⁠ https://discord.gg/PQyaJzkt4Y⁠Paypal Donation ⁠https://www.paypal.com/ncp/payment/Y6WRSW9F2JBSCStripe Donation https://buy.stripe.com/aFa6oGeiXamjdlW39HgUM00 Buy Merch⁠ https://ufono.dashery.com/ Buy Mushrooms⁠ https://www.schedule35.co/us/ (Code: U1173687US240607)⁠Email: Iwant2believe115@gmail.comFollow: Facebook | Twitter | Twitch | Kick | Rumble

Each fall, Lake Placid turns into the “Telluride of the Northeast”—a walkable, mountain-ringed town where filmmakers and film lovers share theaters, coffee lines, and conversations. In this episode, we sit down with Noah Raymer, Director of Communications for Adirondack Film and the Lake Placid Film Festival, to explore what makes this long-running North Country tradition so special.What you'll hear in this episode:Festival vibe, Adirondack style. Why Lake Placid's scenic scale, community feel, and face-to-face access make it a filmmaker favorite—without the red-carpet hoopla.How Adirondack Film and the Festival fit together. From attracting productions (costume, set, camera, and craft jobs right here at home) to curating world-class screenings for local audiences.A history born in a blizzard. The sold-out 1997 screening of The Sweet Hereafter that sparked the Lake Placid Film Forum—and a quarter-century of film culture in the Adirondacks.Big names, low profiles. Memories of guests like Martin Scorsese (interviewed by Jon Favreau), Guillermo del Toro, and Willem Dafoe—plus why artists love the low-key, collaborative scene.Why this year feels different. A new emphasis on the trades behind the camera—costume, lighting, locations, special effects/creature work—so emerging creatives can find real pathways into the industry.Student pathways. The Festival's Student Summit (lodging, meals, passes, and small-group sessions with visiting filmmakers) and the Futures in Film collaboration with local schools and training partners.Dates & don't-miss moments (this year)Festival: Oct 30 – Nov 2 in Lake Placid; Opening Night Party on Oct 30.Careers in Motion (Trades Seminar + speed-mentoring): Oct 31, 2:30 PM.Free Film Trivia + Halloween Costume Contest: Oct 31 (film-themed prizes; no pass required).Lake Placid Halloween Parade: Oct 31, 12–1 PM.Film lets us see the world through someone else's eyes—essential in a place as globally connected (and proudly local) as the Adirondacks. The Festival builds community, keeps creative talent here, and opens doors for the next generation of crew and storytellers.Links & Mentions:Lake Placid Film Festival / Adirondack Film — passes, schedule, Student Summit, giving: adirondackfilm.org; socials: @adirondackfilm.Adirondack Film Commission (episode mentioned earlier with Eric Granger).High Peaks Resort (festival HQ) & Palace Theatre (main screenings).Lake Placid Pub & Brewery; The Breakfast Club (meet a filmmaker between sessions).Stockade Works (training partner) & Careers in Motion seminar.Futures in Film partners: Lake Placid High School, BOCES, SUNY Plattsburgh, Stockade Works.See Something That Means Something (winter art-house series).Give / Sponsor: adirondackfilm.org/give; info@adirondackfilm.org.Nearby to-dos while you're in town: Olympic Ski Jumps, High Falls Gorge, Main Street shops (make it a whole weekend). Produced by NOVA

Rio de Janeiro, 1966. A hill called Morro do Vintém. Two men in suits and raincoats, lying side by side on on a hill. No wounds. No struggle. Just… still. And over their eyes? Hand-cut lead masks. Not helmets. Not radiation gear. Just slabs of metal shielding their eyes. In their pockets: receipts for raincoats, a bar tab for one bottle of mineral water, a little cash. Nearby: two towels. A notebook with a single line in it: “18:30—ingest capsules. After effect—protect metals. Await signal—mask.” Who wrote it? And what “signal” were they waiting for—God? A UFO?Thanks to the TIN FOIL MULISHAExclusive episodes on Patreon https://www.patreon.com/c/ufonopodcast Join the Tin Foil Mulisha Discord:⁠ https://discord.gg/PQyaJzkt4Y⁠Paypal Donation ⁠https://www.paypal.com/ncp/payment/Y6WRSW9F2JBSCStripe Donation https://buy.stripe.com/aFa6oGeiXamjdlW39HgUM00 Buy Merch⁠ https://ufono.dashery.com/ Buy Mushrooms⁠ https://www.schedule35.co/us/ (Code: U1173687US240607)⁠Email: Iwant2believe115@gmail.comFollow: Facebook | Twitter | Twitch | Kick | Rumble

Why do astronauts taste food differently? Do we actively look for a SOS signal for Betelgeuse? Can we use a nearby black hole as a telescope? And in Q&A+, what shape will Milkdromeda be and why?Watch the video here (with no ads) or on YouTube: https://youtu.be/6d7zToaVIec

Apparently motorcycles break a lot. At least they do when you ride them across the country nonstop. Motorcycles aren't exactly the safest machines to begin with, but when you add "catastrophic axle damage" to the equation you've got a real problem. That's why we recommend divine intervention. It works great if you can get it.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

“We bought these assets when nobody was funding mining. At $4,000 gold, it feels like we won the lottery,” Executive Chairman of LaFleur MineralsFROM EXPLORATION TO PRODUCTION IN RECORD TIMEWith gold prices surpassing US $4,000 per ounce, LaFleur Minerals (CSE: LFLR) (OTCQB: LFLRF)(FSE: 3WK0) is seizing a generational opportunity in Quebec's Abitibi Gold Belt. The company's fully permitted, recently upgraded Beacon Gold Mill—valued above $71 million replacement value, positions it among the few small caps ready to transition from exploration to production without years of permitting delays or heavy capital outlay. Feed for the mill will come from LaFleur's 100%-owned Swanson Gold Deposit as primary source, which holds 123,000 oz indicated and 64,500 oz inferred gold, just 60 kilometres away from the mill.BUILDING QUEBEC'S NEXT GOLD PRODUCERThe Executive Chairman describes LaFleur's model as built for near-term cash flow:“Our mill last operated when gold was $1,600. We're restarting it at $4,000 an ounce. The economics speak for themselves.” Trial runs are targeted for December 2025, with commercial production expected by early 2026. LaFleur aims to produce up to 30,000 ounces per year, translating to roughly C$168 million in potential annual output at today's gold prices.KEY ADVANTAGES • Fully permitted Beacon Gold Mill ready for restart that underwent $20 million in refurbishments in 2022 • Swanson Gold Deposit on a mining lease requiring minimal new permitting, district-scale property primed for consolidation with surrounding claims to expand footprint • Strategic location in Quebec's world-class Abitibi district, surrounded by over 100 historical and operational mines, allowing for rapid monetization of mineralized material from nearby gold deposits • Nearby deposits creating a pipeline for future M&A expansionPROVEN TEAM, PERFECT TIMINGThe Executive Chairman through Bullrun Capital, has a track record of financing and building high-growth ventures—including Patriot One Technologies (TSX: PAT) and Xtract One (TSX:XTRA) and brings deep access to institutional capital. Acquiring the Beacon assets out of bankruptcy in 2022, when gold was ~$1,600 and funding was scarce, now looks like a masterstroke.THE OUTLOOKLaFleur plans to ramp up from 900 tons per day to 5,000 tons per day within three years. The company plans expanding its resource base to 3–5 million ounces through targeted acquisitions. With a debt-free, royalty-free mill, a strong Quebec-based operating team, and record-high gold prices, LaFleur Minerals is one of the few juniors positioned to turn ounces into dollars now, not years from now.

Dr. Al Grauer hosts. Dr. Albert D. Grauer ( @Nmcanopus ) is an observational asteroid hunting astronomer. Dr. Grauer retired from the University of Arkansas at Little Rock in 2006. travelersinthenight.org Today's 2 topics: - Recently Dr. Yossi Shvartzvald led a team which published their discovery of an Earth sized planet using microlensing in the Astrophysical Journal Letters. The newly discovered planet OGLE-2016-BLG-1195Lb orbits a small dim object about 13,000 light years from us. With only 7.8% of the Sun's mass the new planet's star may be a brown dwarf and not a star at all. At about the same distance from its star as we are from the Sun this new planet is likely to be an ice ball world colder than Pluto. - In 2018 the NASA Transiting Exoplanet Survey Satellite nicknamed TESS will be launched and begin a two to three year mission to discover small Earth sized planets orbiting bright stars in the solar neighborhood.   We've added a new way to donate to 365 Days of Astronomy to support editing, hosting, and production costs.  Just visit: https://www.patreon.com/365DaysOfAstronomy and donate as much as you can! Share the podcast with your friends and send the Patreon link to them too!  Every bit helps! Thank you! ------------------------------------ Do go visit http://www.redbubble.com/people/CosmoQuestX/shop for cool Astronomy Cast and CosmoQuest t-shirts, coffee mugs and other awesomeness! http://cosmoquest.org/Donate This show is made possible through your donations.  Thank you! (Haven't donated? It's not too late! Just click!) ------------------------------------ The 365 Days of Astronomy Podcast is produced by the Planetary Science Institute. http://www.psi.edu Visit us on the web at 365DaysOfAstronomy.org or email us at info@365DaysOfAstronomy.org.

Late night showgirl! Taylor Swift showed lots of leg on "The Tonight Show with Jimmy Fallon". Along with promoting her new album... Taylor also addressed those reports that she turned down performing at the Super Bowl.   And it looks like Robin Williams... It sounds like Robin Williams... But it's not - it's video digitally created with A.I. technology… now 11 years after the comedian took his own life while battling dementia, fake Robin Williams videos are going viral... And his daughter is saying please make them stop.   Plus, good Samaritans to the rescue. A group of strangers jumped in to help after a medical chopper crashed on a highway in Sacramento. When the fire chief was overwhelmed... Nearby motorists answered his call for help. So, you think you can dance... The Taylor Swift challenge?! The first music video for the life of a show girl includes a fun little dance. Now Swifties coast to coast are learning the moves    ok To learn more about listener data and our privacy practices visit: https://www.audacyinc.com/privacy-policy Learn more about your ad choices. Visit https://podcastchoices.com/adchoices

 Dr. Ala Stanford, founder of the Black Doctors Consortium, has entered the race for Dwight Evans's congressional seat and in city government, Philadelphia City Council is advancing measures to add more speed cameras and improve bike lane safety. $22 million project to rebuild a bridge on City Avenue near the Bala train station will take 20 months to finish. Meanwhile, the Philadelphia School District has extended Superintendent Tony Watlington's contract and Watlington  also addressed a recent payroll glitch. In Camden, New Jersey, the police department is using drones as a "force multiplier," to give officers an aerial view of a scene. Nearby in Gloucester County, the Glassboro School District is piloting an AI security system that uses surveillance cameras to detect guns and automatically alert first responders. With the Pennsylvania state budget deadline long passed, lawmakers remain at an impasse. Amid the stalemate, the Democrat-led House tried to pass four gun control bills causing a contentious debate that included shouting and alleged threats on the House floor. As the Philadelphia Flyers begin their season, they are in a declared rebuild under new head coach Rick Tocchet. 00:00 Intro 02:05   Local ripple effects of government shutdown 06:35   City Hall grab bag including bike lanes 13:01    SEPTA safety report has been issued , teacher raises haven't arrived yet, and what to expect on City Ave soon 19:26   NJ new security addition- AI and drones  24:58   Still no state budget and new guns laws are trying to get through  30:43    The Flyers get a new head coach To learn more about listener data and our privacy practices visit: https://www.audacyinc.com/privacy-policy Learn more about your ad choices. Visit https://podcastchoices.com/adchoices

On September 20th, 1917, at the Battle of Menin Road, Private Roy Inwood lay in the mud east of Ypres. His brother had died at Pozières the year before. In three hours, Roy would earn the Victoria Cross. The day after, he'd be dead.Nearby, three brothers from Petersham waited with their unit. By nightfall, their mother would have lost all three sons.After weeks of catastrophic failures under General Gough, Field Marshal Haig transferred command to General Herbert Plumer. In this episode, Mat McLachlan reveals how Plumer's methodical genius transformed the offensive: three weeks of preparation, limited objectives, overwhelming firepower—one gun for every five yards of front—and revolutionary tactics that reversed traditional doctrine.From predawn assembly through torrential mist to the devastating creeping barrage, we follow the 1st and 2nd Australian Divisions executing what Charles Bean called "probably their zenith"—the most perfectly coordinated attack of the war.Why did German counter-attacks fail so catastrophically? How did Plumer's "bite and hold" change tactical doctrine? What drove Roy Inwood to advance alone through his own barrage—twice?"Nothing I have heard in this world or can in the next could possibly approach its equal." - Australian soldier describing the barrageEpisode Length: 42 minutesFeatures: Frank Hurley's battlefield diary, German assessments of defensive collapse, and the Seabrook brothers' final day.Next Episode: Polygon Wood—the high point of the offensive.Presenter: Mat McLachlanProducer: Jess StebnickiReady to walk the battlefields? Join Mat's exclusive European tours: https://battlefields.com.au/Find everything Mat is doing at https://linktr.ee/matmclachlanFor more history: https://www.LivingHistoryTV.com Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Jay Bernard's 'Surge' and Kei Miller's 'In Nearby Bushes', both published in 2019, address acts of violence whose victims were not directly known to the writers: in Surge, the deaths of thirteen Black teenagers in the New Cross Fire of 1981; in Miller's poem, a series of rapes and murders in Jamaica. Both can be seen as collective elegies, interleaving newspaper and medical reports, and other archival documents, with more lyrical passages, and both can be read as comments on the state of the nation as well as personal expressions of desolation. While Bernard's poem opens out into an investigation of radical Black history and the marginalisation of Black communities in London, Miller uses blanked-out newspaper items, among other techniques, to search for the ‘understory', an experience beyond language, which is in turn connected to colonial, and pre-colonial, Jamaica. In this episode, Mark and Seamus consider the different ways these poets respond to the shocking events they depict, while also incorporating them into a broader poetic landscape. Watch Jay Bernard reading from 'Surge' at the London Review Bookshop: https://youtu.be/XTZKYEimq2Y Non-subscribers will only hear an extract from this episode. To listen to the full episode, and to all our other Close Readings series, subscribe: Directly in Apple Podcasts: ⁠⁠⁠⁠https://lrb.me/applecrld⁠⁠⁠⁠ In other podcast apps: ⁠⁠⁠⁠https://lrb.me/closereadingsld

Breathe goodness in - and out - through this guided meditation led by Julie Potiker. She completes the meditation with the poem, "Into the Thrum", by Marjorie Moorhead.Into the Thrum, by Marjorie MooreheadFinally, the forsythiais at full throttle froth.Yellow petals spanglingin large group celebration.Nearby, magnolia too,has decided to pop. It's timeto show up, and each tree isa handful of confetti-in-the-air.The crocuses have teased forthdaffodils to join them and tulip greens are hintingat days of color to come, when they'll bloomin pinks and purples and bring the hyacinths alongto prance in parade. Why not? The sun i strong,and after burning through morning fog, is outfor serious business all afternoon.Sunsets will be highlighted in cloud forms, dockinglike ships in the waning light, making them blushand glow, putting on quite a show, yet preludefor the exhibition of moon, and stars.Birds know. The geese have come back, squawking,joining cardinals, robins, and crows.With each venture out, I've capturedspring-tilled soil in my soles.Into the Thrum, by Marjorie MooreheadFind out more about using mindfulness in everyday life through Julie's books, "SNAP: From Calm to Chaos", and "Life Falls Apart, But You Don't have To: Mindful Methods for Staying Calm in the Midst of Chaos". Both are available on Amazon.com.Follow Julie on YouTube and Facebook at Mindful Methods for Life.comThis podcast is available on iTunes, iHeart, Blubrry and everywhere you listen to podcasts.Find out more about using mindfulness in everyday life through Julie's books, "SNAP: From Calm to Chaos", and "Life Falls Apart, But You Don't have To: Mindful Methods for Staying Calm in the Midst of Chaos". Both are available on Amazon.com.Follow Julie on YouTube and Facebook at Mindful Methods for Life.comThis podcast is available on iTunes, iHeart, Blubrry and everywhere you listen to podcasts.

Breathe goodness in - and out - through this guided meditation led by Julie Potiker. She completes the meditation with the poem, "Into the Thrum", by Marjorie Moorhead.This version ends with music allowing you to drift off into sleep.Into the Thrum, by Marjorie MooreheadFinally, the forsythiais at full throttle froth.Yellow petals spanglingin large group celebration.Nearby, magnolia too,has decided to pop. It's timeto show up, and each tree isa handful of confetti-in-the-air.The crocuses have teased forthdaffodils to join them and tulip greens are hintingat days of color to come, when they'll bloomin pinks and purples and bring the hyacinths alongto prance in parade. Why not? The sun i strong,and after burning through morning fog, is outfor serious business all afternoon.Sunsets will be highlighted in cloud forms, dockinglike ships in the waning light, making them blushand glow, putting on quite a show, yet preludefor the exhibition of moon, and stars.Birds know. The geese have come back, squawking,joining cardinals, robins, and crows.With each venture out, I've capturedspring-tilled soil in my soles.Into the Thrum, by Marjorie MooreheadFind out more about using mindfulness in everyday life through Julie's books, "SNAP: From Calm to Chaos", and "Life Falls Apart, But You Don't have To: Mindful Methods for Staying Calm in the Midst of Chaos". Both are available on Amazon.com.Follow Julie on YouTube and Facebook at Mindful Methods for Life.comThis podcast is available on iTunes, iHeart, Blubrry and everywhere you listen to podcasts.Find out more about using mindfulness in everyday life through Julie's books, "SNAP: From Calm to Chaos", and "Life Falls Apart, But You Don't have To: Mindful Methods for Staying Calm in the Midst of Chaos". Both are available on Amazon.com.Follow Julie on YouTube and Facebook at Mindful Methods for Life.comThis podcast is available on iTunes, iHeart, Blubrry and everywhere you listen to podcasts.

Where did the world-famous author Jane Austen find inspiration for her classic novels? Two hundred and fifty years after her birth, Gardeners' Corner presenter David Maxwell explores the outdoor spaces closely linked to her life and writing. In Hampshire, he visits the cottage garden at Chawton, where Jane lived with her mother and sister, and where she wrote and revised her most famous works. Now the Jane Austen House Museum, its Director Lizzie Dunford reveals how gardens and outdoor life shape Austen's stories. The new head gardener, Michelle Hickman, shares how the garden around the house has a planting scheme Jane would have recognised, all beneath two venerable yew trees which still stand as living witnesses to her time there. Inside the house, David discovers the horticultural wallpaper that surrounded Austen as she wrote. Nearby at Chawton House—once gifted to Jane's brother—Molly Maslan and Julia Weaver walk him through the grand gardens where she found further inspiration. He also finds a rose bred in her honour called ‘Pride and Prejudice'. Further north, David travels to Chatsworth in Derbyshire. This palatial home to the Dukes of Devonshire became Austen heartthrob Mr Darcy's ‘Pemberley' in a film adaptation of ‘Pride of Prejudice'. Librarian Fran Baker reveals that the 6th Duke was an Austen fan and collected first editions of all her works and head gardener Steve Porter takes David on a tour of the gardens designed to project power. In all three locations the programme explores how gardens connect us to the past, and how they have been—and continue to be—a source of inspiration. Email the programme at gardenerscorner@bbc.co.uk

The Nashville International Airport experienced an “unprecedented surge” on Monday evening that left some travelers in gridlock for hours. Radley Balko, the investigative journalist behind The Watch and the author of Rise of the Warrior Cop, was one of those people. He joins host Marie Cecile Anderson and executive producer Whitney Pastorek to give his first-hand account of the BNA nightmare, as well as his views on President Trump's decision to send the National Guard to Memphis — could they come here next? Plus, lots of GOOD NEWS and weekend activities to help y'all stay sane. Early voting is now open in the race for the TN-07 Congressional seat!  Here are the early voting hours and locations. Here is our guide to the leading candidates. Get more from City Cast Nashville when you become a City Cast Nashville Neighbor. You'll enjoy perks like ad-free listening, invitations to members only events and more. Join now at membership.citycast.fm/nashville   Want some more City Cast Nashville news? Then make sure to sign up for our Hey Nashville newsletter.  Follow us @citycastnashville You can also text us or leave a voicemail at: 615-200-6392 Interested in advertising with City Cast? Find more info HERE.

While in Seattle in the fall of 1968, Śrīla Prabhupāda introduced for the first time this song to be sung during the evening ārati ceremony. GAURA-ĀRATI by Śrīla Bhaktivinoda Ṭhākura (1) jaya jaya gorācānder ārotik śobhā jāhnavī-taṭa-vane jaga-mana-lobhā (2) dakhiṇe nitāicānd, bāme gadādhara nikaṭe adwaita, śrīnivāsa chatra-dhara (3) bosiyāche gorācānd ratna-siṁhāsane ārati koren brahmā-ādi deva-gaṇe (4) narahari-ādi kori' cāmara ḍhulāya sañjaya-mukunda-bāsu-ghoṣ-ādi gāya (5) śaṅkha bāje ghaṇṭā bāje bāje karatāla madhura mṛdaṅga bāje parama rasāla (6) bahu-koti candra jini' vadana ujjvala gala-deśe bana-mālā kore jhalamala (7) śiva-śuka-nārada preme gada-gada bhakativinoda dekhe gorāra sampada (1) All glories, all glories to the beautiful ārati ceremony of Lord Caitanya! This Gaura-ārati is taking place in a grove on the banks of the Jāhnavī [Ganges] and is attracting the minds of all living entities in the universe. (2) On Lord Caitanya's right side is Lord Nityānanda, and on His left is Śrī Gadādhara. Nearby stands Śrī Advaita, and Śrīvāsa Ṭhākura is holding an umbrella over Lord Caitanya's head. (3) Lord Caitanya has sat down on a jeweled throne, and the demigods, headed by Lord Brahmā, perform the ārati ceremony. (4) Narahari Sarakāra and other associates of Lord Caitanya fan Him with cāmaras, and devotees headed by Sañjaya Paṇḍita, Mukunda Datta, and Vāsu Ghoṣa sing sweet kīrtana. (5) Conchshells, bells, and karatālas resound, and the mṛdaṅgas play very sweetly. This kīrtana music is supremely sweet and relishable to hear. (6) The brilliance of Lord Caitanya's face conquers millions upon millions of moons, and the garland of forest flowers around His neck shines. (7) Lord Śiva, Śukadeva Gosvāmī, and Nārada Muni are all there, and their voices are choked with the ecstasy of transcendental love. Thus Ṭhakura Bhaktivinoda envisions the glory of Lord Śrī Caitanya. https://vedabase.io/en/library/spl/2/ ----------------------------------------------------------- To connect with His Grace Vaiśeṣika Dāsa, please visit https://www.fanthespark.com/next-steps/ask-vaisesika-dasa/ ------------------------------------------------------------ Add to your wisdom literature collection: https://iskconsv.com/book-store/ https://www.bbtacademic.com/books/ https://thefourquestionsbook.com/ ------------------------------------------------------------ Join us live on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/FanTheSpark/ Podcasts: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/sound-bhakti/id1132423868 For the latest videos, subscribe https://www.youtube.com/@FanTheSpark For the latest in SoundCloud: https://soundcloud.com/fan-the-spark ------------------------------------------------------------ #spiritualsong #arti #spiritualawakening #soul #spiritualexperience #spiritualpurposeoflife #spiritualgrowthlessons #secretsofspirituality #vaisesikaprabhu #vaisesikadasa #vaisesikaprabhulectures #spirituality #bhaktiyoga #krishna #spiritualpurposeoflife #krishnaspirituality #spiritualusachannel #whybhaktiisimportant #whyspiritualityisimportant #vaisesika #spiritualconnection #thepowerofspiritualstudy #selfrealization #spirituallectures #spiritualstudy #spiritualquestions #spiritualquestionsanswered #trendingspiritualtopics #fanthespark #spiritualpowerofmeditation #spiritualteachersonyoutube #spiritualhabits #spiritualclarity #bhagavadgita #srimadbhagavatam #spiritualbeings #kttvg #keepthetranscendentalvibrationgoing #spiritualpurpose

Family isn't always about shared DNA—sometimes it's about the people who choose to show up and stand in the gap when you need them most. AND A mom and a stranger save a small child after a car plunges into a marina. To see videos and photos referenced in this episode, visit GodUpdates! https://www.godtube.com/blog/surrogate-grandparents-sharing-love.html https://www.godtube.com/blog/mom-saves-small-child-in-car.html Discover more Christian podcasts at lifeaudio.com and inquire about advertising opportunities at lifeaudio.com/contact-us.

In late May of 2010, a young construction worker at a playground in Kallang was chatting with some family members on the phone when he would get viciously ambushed, slashed, and left for dead. Shortly after, another man was walking home along the MRT tracks near Kallang MRT when he was similarly attacked and slashed. By the time daylight broke, 3 had been seriously wounded, and another perished from his injuries. Nearby residents were put on high alert, all wondering when the madness of the Kallang Slashings would stop. Part 1 - We follow the gruesome events as it happened on that fateful evening in late May of 2010, tracing the path of the perpetrators, and the heinous crimes that they committed. Part 2 - We join the investigation as they track down the criminals, eventually figuring out their motive, and their punishments. Join your fellow Heinous fans and interact with the team at our website or through our socials (IG, TikTok) @heinous_1upmedia. - Love Heinous? But feel its getting too dark for you? Check out:

In 1966, two men were discovered dead on Vintém Hill in Brazil under circumstances so strange they remain unsolved to this day. They were found dressed in formal suits, lying side by side, with lead masks covering their eyes. Nearby lay a cryptic note, money, and no signs of struggle. The case has sparked decades of speculation. Were they victims of a failed scientific experiment, caught up in a ritual, or silenced for reasons never revealed? Join us as we unravel the bizarre details of the Lead Masks Case and explore why it continues to baffle investigators and mystery seekers alike.

Marty speaks about today's VisionOS 26 developer beta 9 explaining what is new for users and developers.visionOS 26 Beta 9 Release Noteshttps://developer.apple.com/documentation/visionos-release-notes/visionos-26-release-notes What AVP users will noticeApp Store now shows an Accessibility section on app pages (like a quick “nutrition label” before you download).Share a window from People View: tap Nearby to share with folks around you—or invite FaceTime callers.Mac Virtual Display looks cleaner—sharper edges in passthrough around your Mac/keyboard.Safari: the Clear button is back in the History sidebar. (Heads-up: immersive video can still trap the UI—force-quit if it happens.)Search crash fix rolled out via OTA; EyeSight reliably shows content again.AirDrop videos now open in Files; Messages gets a handful of small polish fixes.Known issue: Spotlight may show blank app icons in Siri Suggestions.Dev bits On-device AI hooks: apps can tap Apple's model directly; faster first responses = snappier features without the cloud.3D charts land in Swift Charts → expect true 3D data views in visionOS apps.Security tightening: default TLS 1.2+ for new builds; very old servers may break. Logs redact more by default.What I've read:- No Jupiter Environment- Still persistence issues for some users- Still widget anchoring problems for some usersEmail: ThePodTalkNetwork@gmail.comWebsite: ThePodTalk.Net

Soul to soul—this is your gentle reminder: your loved ones in the spirit world are not gone, and they are certainly not judging you. They continue to watch over you with love, encouragement, and support, and your connection with them is closer than you may realize.Yet so many of the worries people carry about life after death come from misunderstandings that can block us from truly feeling their presence. This week, we're clearing up the 5 Myths That Block Your Connection With Loved Ones in Spirit—insights that bring comfort, healing, and a deeper sense of spirit connection.You'll hear about:– Why you're not bothering your loved ones when you think of them or talk to them– Why they're not judging your choices from the other side– Why they don't know your exact future—and why that's actually a blessing– The truth that nobody is stuck or trapped in limbo– And why your loved ones have not abandoned you, even if you don't always sense them nearBy the end of this episode, you'll feel reassured that the love and spirit connection you share with your people in spirit is eternal, unshakable, and bigger than you may even realize.Join me Live on Zoom for my Free Monthly Community Healing session! You'll receive a blend of Reiki (Energy Healing), Chakra & Aura Clearing & Balancing, Color Healing, Grounding, Cord Cutting, Trance Medium Healing & more. Get all the details & Sign up now to receive the link and replay for the next session! https://www.joyfulmedium.com/EventsGet Joy's Free "Sign Magnet" 3 Day Mini Course HERE https://www.joyfulmedium.com/sign-magnetJoy's Website: www.joyfulmedium.comInstagram: @JoyfulMediumTikTok: @JoyfulMediumFacebook: @JoyfulMediumFacebook Group: Joy's Soul SpaYouTube: Psychic Medium Joy Giovanni

In this episode, the hosts analyze a Colorado gun range and retail shop listed at $2M, diving into regulatory risks, slim margins, and whether the business is worth its heavy inventory investment.Business Listing – https://www.tworld.com/agents/charleymitchell/listings/turnkey-and-established-gun-range-and-shopWelcome to Acquisitions Anonymous – the #1 podcast for small business M&A. Every week, we break down businesses for sale and talk about buying, operating, and growing them.

The Emmanuel Haro Case: EXPOSED: Why Investigators Suspect Foul Play! On August 14, 2025, 7-month-old Emmanuel Haro vanished outside a Big 5 Sporting Goods store in Yucaipa, California. His mother, Rebecca Haro, told deputies she was attacked in the parking lot and knocked unconscious. When she came to, Emmanuel was gone. There was no suspect description, no vehicle, no witnesses—and as a result, no Amber Alert was issued. The disappearance triggered an immediate law enforcement response. Deputies brought in K-9 units and, shockingly, cadaver dogs within hours. Drones scanned the sky. Nearby businesses turned over surveillance footage. Despite the frantic search, Emmanuel was nowhere to be found. Attention quickly shifted to the family. Investigators flagged inconsistencies in Rebecca's account. When confronted, she ended her police interview and refused a polygraph. Days later, detectives served search warrants on the family's Cabazon home, seizing cell phones, iPads, gaming consoles, surveillance DVRs, and even the father's car. The father, Jake Haro, already had a troubling history. Court records show he and Rebecca pleaded guilty to child cruelty charges stemming from a 2018 case. At the time Emmanuel disappeared, Jake was still on probation and also facing weapons charges. That history made the family a primary focus for investigators. Meanwhile, a reported sighting of Emmanuel in Kern County briefly raised hope—but was never confirmed. Today, Emmanuel remains missing. The San Bernardino County Sheriff's Department continues to investigate, but with the family refusing to fully cooperate, the case is clouded in suspicion. This episode takes you inside the haunting details of the Emmanuel Haro case, where a baby disappears in broad daylight, the parents' stories unravel, and investigators are left to search for truth in silence. #TrueCrime #EmmanuelHaro #MissingBaby #Yucaipa #HiddenKillers Hashtags  #TrueCrime #EmmanuelHaro #MissingBaby #Yucaipa #HiddenKillers #ColdCase #CrimeDocumentary #TrueCrimePodcast #Investigation #CrimeNews Want to comment and watch this podcast as a video? Check out our YouTube Channel. https://www.youtube.com/@hiddenkillerspod Instagram https://www.instagram.com/hiddenkillerspod/ Facebook https://www.facebook.com/hiddenkillerspod/ Tik-Tok https://www.tiktok.com/@hiddenkillerspod X Twitter https://x.com/tonybpod Listen Ad-Free On Apple Podcasts Here: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/true-crime-today-premium-plus-ad-free-advance-episode/id1705422872

The Emmanuel Haro Case: EXPOSED: Why Investigators Suspect Foul Play! On August 14, 2025, 7-month-old Emmanuel Haro vanished outside a Big 5 Sporting Goods store in Yucaipa, California. His mother, Rebecca Haro, told deputies she was attacked in the parking lot and knocked unconscious. When she came to, Emmanuel was gone. There was no suspect description, no vehicle, no witnesses—and as a result, no Amber Alert was issued. The disappearance triggered an immediate law enforcement response. Deputies brought in K-9 units and, shockingly, cadaver dogs within hours. Drones scanned the sky. Nearby businesses turned over surveillance footage. Despite the frantic search, Emmanuel was nowhere to be found. Attention quickly shifted to the family. Investigators flagged inconsistencies in Rebecca's account. When confronted, she ended her police interview and refused a polygraph. Days later, detectives served search warrants on the family's Cabazon home, seizing cell phones, iPads, gaming consoles, surveillance DVRs, and even the father's car. The father, Jake Haro, already had a troubling history. Court records show he and Rebecca pleaded guilty to child cruelty charges stemming from a 2018 case. At the time Emmanuel disappeared, Jake was still on probation and also facing weapons charges. That history made the family a primary focus for investigators. Meanwhile, a reported sighting of Emmanuel in Kern County briefly raised hope—but was never confirmed. Today, Emmanuel remains missing. The San Bernardino County Sheriff's Department continues to investigate, but with the family refusing to fully cooperate, the case is clouded in suspicion. This episode takes you inside the haunting details of the Emmanuel Haro case, where a baby disappears in broad daylight, the parents' stories unravel, and investigators are left to search for truth in silence. #TrueCrime #EmmanuelHaro #MissingBaby #Yucaipa #HiddenKillers Hashtags  #TrueCrime #EmmanuelHaro #MissingBaby #Yucaipa #HiddenKillers #ColdCase #CrimeDocumentary #TrueCrimePodcast #Investigation #CrimeNews Want to comment and watch this podcast as a video? Check out our YouTube Channel. https://www.youtube.com/@hiddenkillerspod Instagram https://www.instagram.com/hiddenkillerspod/ Facebook https://www.facebook.com/hiddenkillerspod/ Tik-Tok https://www.tiktok.com/@hiddenkillerspod X Twitter https://x.com/tonybpod Listen Ad-Free On Apple Podcasts Here: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/true-crime-today-premium-plus-ad-free-advance-episode/id1705422872

The Emmanuel Haro Case: EXPOSED: Why Investigators Suspect Foul Play! On August 14, 2025, 7-month-old Emmanuel Haro vanished outside a Big 5 Sporting Goods store in Yucaipa, California. His mother, Rebecca Haro, told deputies she was attacked in the parking lot and knocked unconscious. When she came to, Emmanuel was gone. There was no suspect description, no vehicle, no witnesses—and as a result, no Amber Alert was issued. The disappearance triggered an immediate law enforcement response. Deputies brought in K-9 units and, shockingly, cadaver dogs within hours. Drones scanned the sky. Nearby businesses turned over surveillance footage. Despite the frantic search, Emmanuel was nowhere to be found. Attention quickly shifted to the family. Investigators flagged inconsistencies in Rebecca's account. When confronted, she ended her police interview and refused a polygraph. Days later, detectives served search warrants on the family's Cabazon home, seizing cell phones, iPads, gaming consoles, surveillance DVRs, and even the father's car. The father, Jake Haro, already had a troubling history. Court records show he and Rebecca pleaded guilty to child cruelty charges stemming from a 2018 case. At the time Emmanuel disappeared, Jake was still on probation and also facing weapons charges. That history made the family a primary focus for investigators. Meanwhile, a reported sighting of Emmanuel in Kern County briefly raised hope—but was never confirmed. Today, Emmanuel remains missing. The San Bernardino County Sheriff's Department continues to investigate, but with the family refusing to fully cooperate, the case is clouded in suspicion. This episode takes you inside the haunting details of the Emmanuel Haro case, where a baby disappears in broad daylight, the parents' stories unravel, and investigators are left to search for truth in silence. #TrueCrime #EmmanuelHaro #MissingBaby #Yucaipa #HiddenKillers Hashtags  #TrueCrime #EmmanuelHaro #MissingBaby #Yucaipa #HiddenKillers #ColdCase #CrimeDocumentary #TrueCrimePodcast #Investigation #CrimeNews Want to comment and watch this podcast as a video? Check out our YouTube Channel. https://www.youtube.com/@hiddenkillerspod Instagram https://www.instagram.com/hiddenkillerspod/ Facebook https://www.facebook.com/hiddenkillerspod/ Tik-Tok https://www.tiktok.com/@hiddenkillerspod X Twitter https://x.com/tonybpod Listen Ad-Free On Apple Podcasts Here: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/true-crime-today-premium-plus-ad-free-advance-episode/id1705422872

"It started when I was deep in one of those late-night YouTube rabbit holes..."CREEPYPASTA► "Don't Subscribe" written by Nearby-Rub2569, narrated by ClancyPasta► https://www.reddit.com/r/creepypasta/comments/1mrfqka/dont_subscribe/Here are ways to support the channel if you wish ~MERCH ► http://teespring.com/stores/clancypastastorePATREON ► https://patreon.com/clancypastaMEMBERSHIP ► https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCnfg9w5hrnPT7oA1H3uRZEQ/joinHere's where you can find me, and also links to the audio version of the show ~X / TWITTER ► http://x.com/clancypastaINSTA ► https://instagram.com/clancypastaSPOTIFY ► https://open.spotify.com/show/51DHHPsFnEvDAGfRiZPMF7ANCHOR.FM ► https://anchor.fm/clancypastaMUSIC► Background music is original and done in house by my best friend and house audio designer SKEEVY WEEVIL#Creepypasta #scarystories #horrorstories

Last time we spoke about the 800 heroes who defended the Sihang Warehouse. In the fall of Shanghai during October 1937, amidst overwhelming odds, a small battalion under Colonel Xie Jinyuan took a stand inside the Sihang Warehouse, transforming it into a fortress against the invading Japanese army. As word spread of their stand, local citizens rallied, providing vital supplies and cheers of encouragement from across the Suzhou Creek. The defenders, dubbed the "800 Heroes," symbolized hope and determination. Despite suffering heavy casualties, they held firm, embodying the spirit of resistance against aggression. As dawn broke on November 1, 1937, a strategic retreat was ordered, allowing Xie's remaining troops to escape safely into the International Settlement. Their legacy endured, highlighting the courage of those who fought against overwhelming odds. The saga of the "800 Heroes" became a beacon of hope for future generations, immortalizing their determination to protect their homeland during one of its darkest hours.   #162 The Battle of Shanghai #7: The Fall of Shanghai Welcome to the Fall and Rise of China Podcast, I am your dutiful host Craig Watson. But, before we start I want to also remind you this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Perhaps you want to learn more about the history of Asia? Kings and Generals have an assortment of episodes on history of asia and much more  so go give them a look over on Youtube. So please subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry for some more history related content, over on my channel, the Pacific War Channel where I cover the history of China and Japan from the 19th century until the end of the Pacific War. The fall of the Sihang Warehouse and withdrawal from Zhabei and Jiangwan doomed the Chinese defense of Shanghai. The army shifted to a fortified defensive line along the southern bank of Suzhou Creek, extending north towards the city of Nanxiang. Suzhou Creek provided an advantageous defensive position, acting as a natural barrier measuring up to 150 feet wide, with steep banks rising seven feet on either side. However, once this line was abandoned, there would be no fallback position remaining. Losing control of Suzhou Creek would be the loss of Shanghai. As German advisor Borchardt noted, “the Chinese command was therefore putting all its efforts into holding the position for as long as possible, without risking the annihilation of units crucial for continuing the war.” The Japanese planned their main assault directly south across Suzhou Creek to encircle the troops stationed in Shanghai. However, they first needed to create sufficient space for maneuvering. To achieve this and to secure their right flank, they launched a significant attack on Nanxiang on October 28, advancing along the railway from Shanghai. With the benefit of extensive support from aircraft and artillery, the Japanese were able to breach the Chinese frontline with relative ease. Nevertheless, they failed to capture Nanxiang, and the outcome was less of a victory than it initially appeared, as the Chinese had established a robust defense, preparing a two-mile stretch of obstacles and barriers east of the city. In a subsequent advance that shifted to the south, the Japanese engaged in a brief battle before seizing the town of Zhenru, which was strategically important due to its radio station that facilitated much of Shanghai's telephone and telegraphic communications with the outside world. In preparation for crossing Suzhou Creek, the Japanese had spent several days assembling a small fleet of vessels commandeered from Shanghai's civilian population, which included motorboats, sampans, and basic bamboo barges. On October 31, the 3rd Japanese Infantry Division, positioned at the eastern end of the Suzhou Creek front, initiated several crossings. During one of these attacks in the late afternoon near the village of Zhoujiaqiao, Japanese soldiers managed to reach the southern bank but were immediately met with enfilading fire from Chinese machine guns, resulting in significant casualties. They also faced counterattacks from Chinese reserves, who had been quickly summoned to neutralize the threat. Despite these challenges, the Japanese were able to maintain a narrow foothold. A parallel attempt by the same division further downstream, closer to the International Settlement, ended in failure, despite the evident superiority of Japanese equipment. Engineers deployed a mile-long smokescreen across the creek, while a dozen three-engine bombers, protected by fighter planes, hovered over the battlefield, actively scouting for targets. Although a small landing party successfully crossed the creek, they were quickly met with a fierce artillery barrage, and a Chinese counterattack forced them back into the water. Foreign military observers speculated that this operation was more a reconnaissance mission than a serious attempt to cross in that sector, as engaging in battle so close to the International Settlement would have required operations in heavily built-up areas. On November 1, three battalions of the 9th Japanese Division attacked in small boats across Suzhou Creek at the point where the Chinese frontline bent northward, successfully establishing a bridgehead on the other side. Over the next two days, the division managed to deploy a substantial number of troops across, eventually controlling an area that stretched about half a mile along the south bank of the creek. The following day, the Chinese launched a determined effort to eliminate this growing threat. While they made significant gains, they ultimately failed to eradicate the Japanese landing party, partly due to their inability to fully utilize their considerable artillery resources. At the beginning of the day's battle, just 60 feet separated the trenches of the opposing forces, meaning any barrage aimed at the Japanese was equally likely to hit Chinese lines. At dawn on November 3rd, the exhausted Tax Police Division were taking horrible losses trying to hold the Japanese back. Men began to scream “poison gas” as white clouds drifted across the Suzhou creek towards their trenches. Despite this the Japanese had not managed to carve out a bridgehead, but did built a pontoon bridge and sent a small force over to occupy a two story building near the bank, designated as “the red house”. Huang Jie, commander of the Tax Police Division, was a nervous wreck, feeling overwhelmed by fatalism after Chiang Kai-shek threatened to court-martial any officer who permitted the Japanese to cross to the southern bank of the creek. The appearance of an ominous cloud was the final straw. Although the cloud was later confirmed to be just a smoke screen and not poisonous gas, Huang was already defeated. With another Japanese assault imminent, he felt incapable of leading the defense. “It's over. It's all over,” he said matter-of-factly, raising his sidearm to his temple. Nearby, senior officer Sun Liren intervened, urging him, “General, please go back. We'll take care of this.” The battle continued until 4:00 p.m., but the battalion that faced the brunt of the Japanese onslaught had disintegrated. Its commander was dead, along with all but one company commander and over half of the platoon leaders. Of the original 600 men, only 200 remained. This was not what the Tax Police Division had anticipated when they were pulled from the area south of Wusong Creek the previous month; they believed the strong defenses at Dachang could hold for at least a month or two, providing sufficient time for the exhausted troops in the rear to recover. On the evening of November 3, following the latest Japanese attempt to cross the creek, the Tax Police Division's commander ordered Sun Liren to rest. However, Sun felt the need to complete one last task: destroying the pontoon bridge the Japanese had constructed across Suzhou Creek, which remained largely intact despite repeated Chinese efforts to demolish it. Previous attempts, including frontal attacks and sending swimmers downstream with explosives, had failed. Finally, they prepared large rolls of cotton soaked in gasoline to roll downhill toward the bridge, but these efforts were halted by Japanese barbed wire. For his final attempt, Sun requisitioned sea mines to float them downstream and detonate them near the bridge. To ensure the success of this plan, he required the cooperation of engineers. Unfortunately, the engineers he ordered for the late-night mission had not been trained by him, and despite being of lower rank, they were disinclined to put in extra effort for an unfamiliar officer. They worked slowly, and by dawn, the mines had yet to be pushed into the water. In the early morning light, they became visible targets along the bank, attracting Japanese fire. Sun was hit, but he was among the fortunate; later, soldiers from the Tax Police Division found him beneath a pile of dead bodies, with doctors later discovering 13 bullet wounds in his body. His participation in the battle of Shanghai had come to an end. According to German advisors, the Chinese repeatedly made the same mistake in the struggle for Suzhou Creek: a lack of independent thinking among junior Chinese commanders prevented them from reacting aggressively to Japanese crossings. This delay allowed the Japanese to entrench themselves, and subsequent Chinese counterattacks often succeeded only after several costly failures. Moreover, Chinese artillery lacked the flexibility to adapt quickly and lacked training in selecting the appropriate ordnance for the situation. The Germans argued that this allowed the enemy “sufficient time to set up a good defense,” and even when later Chinese attacks achieved some significant successes, they failed to completely annihilate the enemy forces that had crossed the creek. Conversely, the Japanese were also frustrated, particularly their commander, Matsui Iwane. Although the 9th Division had made significant advances, the 3rd Division remained confined to a narrow strip of land south of the creek, thwarting hopes for a quick, decisive push southeast to trap the remaining troops in Shanghai and Pudong. On November 3, the birthday of Emperor Meiji, who was instrumental in modernizing Japan, Matsui reflected on his initial hopes of celebrating as the conqueror of Shanghai. Instead, he found himself disappointed, writing, “Now we've finally won a small piece of land south of Suzhou Creek, but the south of Shanghai and all of Pudong remains in enemy hands. That the festival is happening under conditions such as these is a source of boundless humiliation.” Japanese planners in Tokyo had been increasingly concerned that operations in the Shanghai area were not progressing as anticipated since the troop deployments began in August. Despite sending three additional divisions, the advances remained limited, prompting the Army General Staff to consider a more fundamental strategic shift in China. The core question revolved around whether to prioritize the northern campaign or the battles around Shanghai, as Japan lacked the resources to effectively pursue both. In early October, Japanese officers concluded that addressing the situation in Shanghai must take precedence. A large reason for this decision rested on fears of a potential soviet attack in the northeast before the New Year. With so many divisions stuck in Shanghai Manchukuo was quite vulnerable. On October 9, the Army General Staff established the 10th Army, specifically designed to shift the balance in Shanghai. This new force included the 6th Infantry Division, currently deployed in northern China, a brigade from the 5th Infantry Division known as the Kunizaki Detachment, and the 18th and 114th Infantry Divisions from the home islands. Command of the 10th Army was entrusted to General Yanagawa Heisuke, a 58-year-old veteran of the Russo-Japanese War who had recently retired but was recalled to service due to his suitability for the role; he had previously served as a military attaché in Beijing and as an instructor at the city's army college. The 10th Army was to be landed behind Chinese lines. There were two possible landing sites: the south bank of the Yangtze River, where earlier landings had occurred in late August, or the north bank of Hangzhou Bay. Hangzhou Bay provided the element of surprise thus it was selected. However when reconnaissance was performed, the area was found to be heavily fortified with many terrain issues that would complicate logistics. Matsui Iwane expressed his concerns in his diary, noting, “It would probably be much easier if they landed on the banks of the Huangpu and Yangtze Rivers. This plan gives me the impression of a bunch of young people at play”. The 10th Army was set to land before dawn on November 5. The Kunizaki Detachment would lead the assault, capturing a stretch of coastline east of Jinshanwei in the middle of the night. This would be followed by the 6th Division, with the 18th Division on its right flank and the 114th Division on its left. All units were to advance briskly north to the Huangpu River and cross it. A major objective north of the river was the city of Songjiang, a key transportation hub for both rail and road. Ultimately, the goal was to link up with Japanese units advancing south in the flat countryside west of Shanghai to encircle as many Chinese soldiers as possible. Secrecy was vital for the 10th Army in its preparations. The commanders recalled an old saying: “If you want to cheat the enemy, first you must fool your own men,” and decided to adhere to it. To mislead their forces before the embarkation of the 6th Division, they distributed maps of Qingdao, a northern Chinese port city, to create the illusion that it was the operation's target. This way, if any information leaked, it would mislead the recipient. On November 1, the convoy carrying the 6th Division departed the waters off the Korean Peninsula, heading south. The following day, it merged with another convoy transporting the 18th and 114th Divisions from Japan. Together, they formed a substantial fleet of nearly 200 vessels, necessitating heightened caution to avoid detection. Strict orders prohibited the use of lights, and radio silence was enforced at all times. As the ships neared Shanghai, they sailed in a wide arc offshore, only redirecting toward land when they were aligned with Hangzhou Bay. Upon learning their true objective, the soldiers felt a mix of excitement and apprehension as they crowded the dark decks, catching sight of the vague silhouette of the continent they were about to conquer. The advance unit, the Kunizaki Detachment, boarded its landing craft as planned at 3:00 am on November 5, heading towards its designated section of the coastline. Meanwhile, the rest of the 10th Army waited anxiously aboard ships anchored two miles offshore. The silence from the shore indicated that the detachment had encountered no resistance, although the ongoing radio silence left uncertainty. Eventually, the detachment signaled with light projectors that the landing had gone as planned. With this confirmation, the soldiers of the second wave began their approach. The 10th Army had intended for the invasion force to move swiftly from the landing zone to secure the area before the Chinese could mount a counterattack. Each soldier was equipped with a week's supply of rice and as much ammunition as he could carry to avoid being hindered by a lengthy supply train; mobility was essential. On the first day of the landing, the Chinese launched only two minor counterattacks. One occurred on the left flank but failed to hinder the advance north, while the other on the right flank also had limited success, forcing the Chinese to retreat ahead of the advancing Japanese troops. By mid-morning on November 5, over 3,000 Japanese soldiers had successfully landed, and this number continued to rise rapidly. The urgency of the situation was evident, and only swift and decisive actions could offer the Chinese generals a chance to avert catastrophe. However, instead of mounting an all-out effort to push the Japanese back into the sea, they chose to play a waiting game. The consensus among the command center of the 3rd War Zone in Suzhou during the early hours was that the landing forces were weak and intended to distract from more critical operations planned for the near future. Enemy resistance was weak and sporadic, allowing the Japanese divisions to make rapid progress despite encountering natural obstacles along their route. By the evening of November 5, less than 24 hours after the initial unit landed, they had advanced three miles inland. Before noon the following day, they reached a ferry port on the Huangpu River, where a group of over 100 soldiers managed to cross, clearing the way for the continued push toward Songjiang. Meanwhile, the left flank of the Japanese landing force engaged in more intense fighting for the first time but still managed to gain ground. The Japanese momentum appeared unstoppable.In desperation, the Chinese resorted to scorched earth tactics reminiscent of the Napoleonic Wars, similar to their earlier actions in Zhabei. They destroyed every building and field, burned crops, killed livestock, and poisoned wells, leaving nothing for the victors. It was the local population that ultimately paid the price, witnessing their ancestral homes reduced to ashes.  Once the Chinese command was convinced that the invasion at Hangzhou Bay was a genuine main effort rather than a deceptive act, it directed all available forces south to contain the escalating threat. However, the Chinese had very few troops to spare. The Chinese dispatched a total of seven divisions and one independent brigade to the landing area. While this force appeared to be roughly twice the size of the Japanese, in reality, it was much weaker. Many of these units had endured extended battles and were not at full combat strength. They were sent south without adequate preparation, and their morale suffered due to the continuous stream of negative news from the front. Additionally, the same poor road network that hindered the Japanese slowed the Chinese reinforcements, resulting in many arriving too late to influence the conflict significantly. Once the opportunity to push the Japanese back into the sea was lost, the next best option was to halt their advance at the Huangpu River. Although this was a significant natural barrier, there were no fortifications prepared along its banks. Compounding the issue, a large number of civilian vessels were left on the south bank, providing the Japanese with an easy means of crossing. Confronted with a steady stream of better-equipped and experienced Japanese soldiers, many Chinese defenders occasionally retreated without a fight. In response to the threat from the south, the Chinese commanders repeated a costly mistake from previous crises: they deployed newly arrived troops in Shanghai directly into battle. This disregard for the exhausted condition of those troops, who had just completed a long trek from Henan province, left them ill-prepared for effective engagement. The 107th and 108th Divisions, part of the 67th Army, had only recently arrived in the Shanghai area when they were ordered on November 8 to move south to defend the strategic city of Songjiang at least until November 11. Though the commanders may have had no other choice but to deploy the 67th, the outcome was predictable. Despite their efforts to hold Songjiang, the two divisions could not stand against the Japanese, and by November 9, they had begun withdrawing from the nearly surrounded city. During the retreat, army commander Wu Keren was assassinated by a group of plainclothes men. Whether these were Japanese soldiers or local traitors hired for the task was never determined, making him the only general to lose his life in the entire Shanghai campaign. This setback rendered the 67th Army ineffective as a fighting force, leading to a complete retreat from the battlefield. Like many other lower-quality units in the Chinese military, the rank-and-file soldiers had never been encouraged to take the initiative, and the corps ultimately disintegrated after losing their commander. Amid the chaos and confusion at the landing zone, many Chinese officers concluded that the battle for Shanghai was lost and focused on salvaging whatever equipment they could before it was too late. On the morning of November 5, three artillery batteries stationed along the north shore of Hangzhou Bay attempted to resist the Japanese forces. As the Chinese front along Hangzhou Bay collapsed, even a successful retreat could be seen as a modest victory. Chiang Kai-shek was on the brink of a nervous breakdown as the full scale of the Japanese landing at Hangzhou Bay became evident. On the evening of November 5, he had over 20 anxious telephone conversations with Gu Zhutong, asking repeatedly, “Is there a fight?” Gu confirmed, “The artillery is bombarding us heavily. There are airplanes, warships.” That night, Chiang met with Chen Cheng and appeared to accept that it was time to abandon positions south of Suzhou Creek. However, political considerations prevented him from immediately communicating this decision to his commanders. He wished to see the Brussels Conference get underway without having China appear defeated and seemed to hope to hold out until November 13, aiming for a minor propaganda victory by demonstrating that China had endured for three months. On the night of November 8, Chiang issued a fateful command to Shanghai police chief Cai Jianjun, instructing him to hold Nanshi while the rest of the army withdrew west, a directive that sounded like a suicide mission. When Cai refused, Chiang's response was swift: “Shoot him.” Luckily for Cai, he escaped being shot.  The Chinese retreat from Shanghai commenced in an orderly manner. At 10:00 am on November 9, the last soldiers organized their march southwest past St. Ignatius Cathedral, where thousands of refugees waited, leaving the city they had defended for nearly three months. As they departed, they burned significant properties, including factories and coal yards, to deny the Japanese valuable resources. Among the structures targeted was the Toyoda Cotton Mills, a prominent symbol of Japan's influence in the Yangtze Delta. Initially, the withdrawal seemed disciplined, reminiscent of earlier successful withdrawals that had surprised the Japanese. However, the situation quickly deteriorated as the Japanese pursued them relentlessly. By noon, they had secured Hongqiao Airfield, the site of earlier conflict, and aimed to inflict maximum damage on the retreating Chinese army. Japanese planes launched attacks from carriers offshore, machine-gunning the congested roads filled with retreating soldiers. Additionally, they bombed bridges and train stations, destroyed communication lines, and shelled already weakened transportation networks. With communications largely disrupted and scattered units receiving no coordination, chaos ensued. Soldiers became consumed by the instinct for personal survival, leading to a disorganized stampede as panic spread. Desperate to escape, many soldiers tried to access designated foreign zones. Some forced their way across checkpoints at gunpoint, while others disguised themselves as civilians to gain entry. A foreign correspondent observed a Chinese soldier throw away his rifle and jump into the polluted Siccawei Creek, wading across in just his underwear, to escape Japanese capture. Similarly, senior officers realized that rank would not protect them from Japanese retribution. General Ye Zhao, retreating with his staff, donned peasant clothes after encountering an abandoned farmhouse and was later captured by the advancing Japanese, who mistook him for a common laborer. As the Japanese approached Nanshi, the mostly Chinese area of Shanghai, the situation grew dire. A group of individuals accused of spying for the Japanese was executed by firing squad in public view, sparking terror among onlookers. As the government prepared to evacuate, officials urged the remaining residents to continue resisting, warning against traitors.  The swift retreat of the Chinese Army shocked many Shanghai residents, who had believed the city could withstand the siege indefinitely. As the city fell in just a few hectic days, thousands of desperate civilians, burdened with their belongings, flocked to the bridges leading to the French Concession, pleading to be let in. However, they were met with hostility from French police, reinforced with tanks, who ordered them to turn away. When they resisted, local Chinese employees were forced to help drive them back, resulting in horrific scenes of violence. The New York Times correspondent Hallet Abend reported how the crowd was ruthlessly beaten back, with some falling into Siccawei Creek, where several drowned amid the chaos. Chinese resistance in Nanshi persisted, as pockets of soldiers were determined to make the conquest challenging for the Japanese. After three days of fighting, between 5,000 and 6,000 Chinese soldiers remained in Nanshi when the Japanese launched their final assault on the morning of November 11. They began a relentless artillery bombardment of the densely populated area. Foreign correspondents, including American journalist Edgar Snow, observed the battle from the French Concession across Siccawei Creek. Japanese tanks advanced cautiously through narrow streets, pausing to fire before retreating, while infantry moved carefully to avoid Chinese snipers hiding among the buildings. While most residents had fled, some civilians continued their daily lives amidst gunfire and explosions. An incident was reported where a group of Chinese were eating rice in a sampan when a machine gun opened fire, causing them to seek cover under the mat. The Japanese forces encountered familiar challenges as they advanced through Nanshi, struggling to set up pontoon bridges across canals, which slowed their progress. In a last stand visible to onlookers in the French Concession, the Chinese soldiers faced an unequal confrontation. The Japanese tanks fired upon them from only 60 yards away, and the defenders were subjected to intense air raids before being driven back. At a desperate moment, one Chinese soldier carried a wounded comrade across Siccawei Creek, dodging bullets, and received assistance from French guards. This encouraged more Chinese soldiers to cross into the French sector, surrendering their weapons to avoid certain death. They became internees, protected from the Japanese, although they felt betrayed by the circumstances that forced such a decision. Not all soldiers managed to escape in this manner; some relocated to a new position closer to the southern edge of the French Concession, near a water tower. This location offered even less protection than their previous one and quickly turned into a deadly encounter. Realizing they were losing, the Chinese troops fled toward the French sector, abandoning their equipment and weapons as they scrambled over barbed wire. The French commander commended their bravery and assured them they would not be returned to the Japanese. As the battle across Siccawei Creek drew to a close, victorious Japanese troops swept through the remaining unoccupied streets of Chinese Shanghai, eliminating the last pockets of resistance. Similar to previous encounters in Zhabei, defenders attempted to set fire to buildings to leave little for the occupying army. Thick smoke billowed over the district, limiting visibility, so onlookers in the French Concession relied on sound to gauge the battle's progress. As gunfire waned, cheers of “Banzai!” filled the air. At 3:34 pm, the Rising Sun flag was raised over the last Chinese stronghold in Nanshi, officially marking the end of the battle of Shanghai. In a city ravaged by war, the district of Zhabei became the epicenter of destruction, resembling a bleak lunar landscape. The area around the North Train Station was devastated, with gutted buildings standing like rugged cliffs and the asphalt roads marred by deep fissures resembling earthquake damage. As Chinese officials prepared to leave Shanghai for Nanjing, they tried to present a positive narrative about the battle, emphasizing that the sacrifices made were not in vain. Mayor Yu proclaimed that the lessons learned in Shanghai during the past 90 days could benefit the entire nation in the war against Japanese aggression, instilling confidence in the people that victory would eventually come. He spoke as if the war was over in Shanghai, which was true in a sense, as the major conflict had concluded.  In late 1937, the Japanese believed they had achieved victory. On December 3, Matsui Iwane's army held a victory parade through the unoccupied International Settlement, a right they claimed as one of the governing powers. It was a serious miscalculation. Japanese civilians and ronin were recruited to act as rallying crowds, waving national flags, which triggered confrontations with foreign residents. The parade passed the Great World Amusement Center, where hundreds had died during "Black Saturday," prompting a Chinese man to leap from a building, declaring “Long Live China!” as he fell. As the parade continued down Nanjing Road, tensions grew among the accompanying police. Suddenly, a grenade was thrown from a window, injuring four Japanese soldiers and one British police officer. Matsui's veterans fanned out to apprehend the assailant, but it was a Chinese police officer who shot him dead. What was meant to be a triumph turned into a fiasco that confirmed the Japanese would struggle to secure even this small corner of China, let alone the vast territory of the country as a whole. The battle for Shanghai became the bloodiest international conflict in Asia since the Russo-Japanese War. By late October, the Japanese estimated that China had suffered 250,000 military losses in the fight for the city. In the months following the battle, Chinese sources reported casualties ranging from 187,200 to as high as 300,000. Regardless of the exact figure, the aftermath of the battle was catastrophic, severely impacting Chiang Kai-shek's best German-trained divisions. China faced a blow from which it would not recover until 1944, aided by significant American support. The high casualty rates stemmed from several factors. Many Chinese soldiers entered the battle expecting to sacrifice their lives, which led to a higher incidence of fatality due to their willingness to launch suicidal attacks against heavily fortified positions. Chinese tactics, which relied on numerical superiority to counter Japan's material advantages, essentially turned the conflict into a struggle of manpower against machinery. While this approach had a grim logic, it starkly contrasted with the reluctance of Chinese commanders to sacrifice valuable imported equipment. They were quick to expend their best divisions in intense fighting yet hesitated to utilize their key weaponry for fear of Japanese air raids. The elite 87th and 88th Divisions faced near depletion within days, while the Pudong artillery operated minimally over three months to avoid drawing enemy fire. One might question what Chiang Kai-shek achieved from such immense sacrifices. If his primary goal was to divert Japanese forces from the north, where they enjoyed easy victories, then the battle in Shanghai could be viewed as a success for China. As autumn 1937 progressed, Japanese commanders were increasingly forced to redirect their focus and resources to the more complex and tactically challenging terrain around Shanghai, where their technical superiority was less effective than on the northern plains. However, shifting the war to central China also posed risks, threatening the economic hub and political capital in Nanjing, ultimately resulting in a Japanese occupation that would last nearly eight years. If Chiang also wished to attract foreign attention, it is unclear how successful he was. The battle unfolded in front of thousands in the International Settlement and French Concession and garnered international media coverage, with many foreign correspondents arriving to report on the conflict. For three months, Shanghai dominated the front pages of major newspapers, and the Chinese effectively utilized propaganda to highlight events such as the desperate “Lost Battalions” fight in Zhabei. Yet, none of the major powers felt compelled to offer substantial support to China, and even the Brussels Conference failed to provide any useful assistance. Both Western powers and the Soviet Union were closely watching the conflict. Chiang hoped for Soviet support, and historical records suggest that Soviet diplomats encouraged him with vague assurances. China aimed to provoke Soviet entry into the war against Japan; however, the outcome may have been counterproductive. By engaging Japan, China effectively diminished the likelihood of a Japanese assault on the Soviet Union, as Japan needed to subdue China first. The Soviets eventually started providing material aid, including the arrival of nearly 300 Russian attack and bomber aircraft in mid-October, but this assistance was a poor substitute for a genuine ally. Additionally, while the Soviet Union emerged as a hesitant partner for China, China lost the substantial support it had previously received from Germany. The Germans played a crucial role in Shanghai during the 1937 conflict, with every major Chinese unit having at least one German advisor. Chiang Kai-shek's strategic decision to make a stand in Shanghai appears to have been significantly influenced by General Falkenhausen's opinions. Chiang had initially welcomed the German proposal to fight for Shanghai and was resolved to see it through, regardless of the cost to his troops. By 1938, German advisors began departing China, coinciding with the outbreak of war in Europe. Unfortunately, their experiences in China did not translate into lessons for their future military engagements, particularly regarding urban warfare, which might have been beneficial in battles such as Stalingrad during the winter of 1942–1943. Instead, they returned to more conventional military roles in Europe.  Despite enduring the most suffering in and around Shanghai during 1937, the battle proved to be far more costly for the Japanese than their commanders had anticipated. By November 8, Japanese military casualties totaled 9,115 dead and 31,257 injured. Although the Japanese forces enjoyed overwhelming advantages in artillery and air power, they could not compensate for their leaders' consistent underestimation of Chinese resilience and fighting spirit. The flow of reinforcements was disorganized, leading General Matsui and his commanders to feel they never had enough troops to achieve a swift and decisive victory. As the Shanghai battle neared its conclusion, Matsui became increasingly confident that he could inflict a blow on Chiang Kai-shek from which he would never recover. In an interview with a German reporter in late October, Matsui stated that after capturing Shanghai, the Japanese Army would march on to Nanjing if necessary. He had a keen political sense and believed it better to act independently than wait for orders from Tokyo, declaring, "Everything that is happening here is taking place under my entire responsibility." Without an aggressive general like Matsui, it's questionable whether the Japanese would have proceeded to Nanjing. Initially, they focused on pursuing retreating Chinese forces, a sound tactical decision that did not imply an expansive strategy to advance to Nanjing. However, after another surprise amphibious landing on November 13 on the south bank of the Yangtze River, the Japanese commanders felt positioned to push for Nanjing and bring the war to a conclusive end.  I would like to take this time to remind you all that this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Please go subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry after that, give my personal channel a look over at The Pacific War Channel at Youtube, it would mean a lot to me. Thus with that the battle for Shanghai, known to some as China's Stalingrad had come to a brutal end. Chiang Kai-Shek gambled the cream of his army to gain international sympathy for his nation, but had it worked? Japan was taking the northeast, and now with Shanghai conquered, the path to Nanjing and unimaginable horror remained. 

If you want to get better at jumping, or you're trying to progress your riding without a mountain in sight, this episode is for you. Tadas Puodžiūnas is the founder of MTB Hopper, a Lithuanian company that designs and sells portable bike ramps.What was it like learning to mountain bike in Lithuania?How did the idea for MTB Hopper come about?Do you think growing up in a flat place gave you any advantages as a rider?Why is it generally easier to follow someone into a jump than to try it solo?How do you figure out how much speed you need to clear a jump?Is there a good way to ‘test' a jump without hitting it full-send the first time?How much suspension travel do you really need for small to medium-sized jumps?How do MTB Hopper ramps help with that progression? And how do they compare to DIY setups?Are there any MTB trails in Lithuania you can recommend for someone visiting the country?An automatically generated transcript will be available at Singletracks.com later today. More info about MTB Hopper at mtbhopper.com.This episode is sponsored by Trailbot. Trailbot is the smarter way for trail managers to communicate updates without relying on social media. Don't let The Algorithm bury your posts—easily share conditions and closures to your web site, social media and the app all at once. Best of all, it's free.Trailbot is used by over 260 trail systems in 17 states and growing fast. Over 50,000 riders have installed the free iOS and Android apps to get official updates with optional push notifications, without having to see what their weird relative posted on social media. Learn more at ⁠⁠⁠trailbot.com⁠⁠⁠.

A tragic and eerie story out of Pennsylvania that has horror and paranormal fans reeling! 54 year old Dan Rivera was touring with the real life Annabelle doll featured in “The Conjuring” series, when he suddenly and unexpectedly died alone in his hotel room. Amy and T.J. go over the latest in the investigation into his death and the history of the doll… there are many who believe she has killed before.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

For decades, residents of the small city of Newburgh, New York, were unknowingly drinking water contaminated with toxic PFAS—also known as forever chemicals. The source turned out to be firefighting foam used on a nearby air base that had seeped into streams and creeks, and ultimately the city's main drinking water reservoir.Now, Newburgh is one of 10 sites that are part of a CDC-led study investigating the health effects of PFAS exposure. Early data out of Newburgh links PFAS with high cholesterol, high blood pressure, and heart disease. Host Flora Lichtman discusses the research with environmental epidemiologist Erin Bell and reporter Shantal Riley.Read our full story about what PFAS contamination has meant for Newburgh in English and in Spanish.Guests: Shantal Riley is an award-winning journalist and science writer, focused on environmental health.Dr. Erin Bell is an environmental epidemiologist at the University at Albany in New York.Transcripts for each episode are available within 1-3 days at sciencefriday.com. Subscribe to this podcast. Plus, to stay updated on all things science, sign up for Science Friday's newsletters.