Family Relations (Part Twenty One)
Friday, May 30th, 2014 11:45 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
challis_2070 posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
mindcrackloveLink to Part Twenty- http://mindcracklove.dreamwidth.org/648599.html#cutid1
First cut is to the story, second to the notes.
Sorry for taking so long, this one was hard to write.
Pyro sighed. He had spoken with Baj and had decided that he was going try and talk to the priest for a bit tomorrow after confession, about what he should do about being bothered by the soldier. He hoped that they would be able to figure something out, particularly since he would only be here for about another two weeks, give or take, after having spoken to his da.
That made him happy, of course, but the whole uncertainty of it was very annoying. Uncertainty might be a fact of life, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.
-----
BTC groaned as he paced the barracks floor, still thinking to himself.
He needed to talk to someone, badly. He hated admitting that, but that was a straight up fact at this point, and not doing so would simply make him unfit for duty. And that was one thing he really didn’t want to ever happen.
Sighing, BTC got up and walked down to where the bases Chaplain would be.
knock knock knock
“Come in.”
BTC opened the door and walked in slowly.
“Hello Chaplain.”
“Ah, hello Sergeant. Is there something I can help you with?”
“Yes, actually.”
BTC looked kind of nervous and closed the door behind him, before walking over and taking the seat the Chaplain was indicating for him. Going for help, particularly mental was not something he did often, if at all, and he wasn’t looking forward to explaining this to anyone who had seen him. But hell, they could go…yeah.
“What is it, please?”
“I, erm…everything here is confidential, right?”
“Yes, it is. It operates under the same rules as, say, confession, if you were wondering.”
He wasn’t really, it being confidential was enough for him, but well, that was good, he thought.
Sighing softly, he started to talk about what had been bothering him.
-----
Pyro yawned as he sat listening to the Mass finish up. His uncle had elected to remain with the car this time, and had parked on one of the side streets so he wouldn’t get boxed in. He figured Baj really didn’t like the ladies, as he had let him walk up by himself this time. They had mostly left him alone this time, which he was thankful for, as he mostly wanted to simply go to Mass and confession and then speak to the priest afterwards. He’d already told Baj that he was going to take a bit longer today, so no problems there, he though.
Confession went normally enough, he supposed, though he had used the time to ask to speak to the priest separately, rather than during confession, as that would take too much time away for other people. The priest had agreed to this readily enough, and suggested that he go wait in the office afterwards for him to finish the few remaining confessions.
Pyro swung his feet as he sat on a chair in the priest’s office. Or the church’s office, rather, since it didn’t belong to a specific priest, of course.
He was slightly bored, waiting for the priest to come in from the rest of the confessions.
The door opened and the priest walked in.
“Hello Paul.”
“Hello Father1.”
“So, what is it that you wanted to talk about, then?”
“Well, it’s like this, you see…”
-----
Dinnerbone stared at the table as he set out place settings for lunch. Dad and Pyro had returned from the church earlier, though they had spent longer there than they had the last two weeks. Pyro had mentioned that he had wanted to talk to him after lunch, but when he tried to read his expression, he wasn’t really sure if it was a good or bad thing.
He shrugged to himself as everyone sat down to eat. He was glad to note that lunch seemed to have gone well, or at least, everyone was mostly quiet and calm during it.
When they finished eating, he got up and followed Pyro to his room.
-----
Pyro stared up at the ceiling of the bedroom while Dinnerbone sat on the desk chair, waiting for him to speak. Pyro had closed the door behind them when they went in, Dinnerbone figured that whatever he wanted to talk about, he had only wanted to speak to him about, and not the rest of the house as well.
“You said before, you didn’t mind if I talked to you about stuff, right? Is that still true?”
Dinnerbone blinked at that, but nodded. “Of course it still is.”
“Even though it’s really not nice stuff?” Well, that was a vast understatement.
“I…yes. If it makes you feel better, then yes.”
Pyro sat up and looked at Dinnerbone for a long moment.
“No, I mean, I wanted to talk to you about bad stuff, painful stuff. Stuff from home and why despite knowing that trying to be nice to this soldier is a good thing, why I really really don’t want to and am, honestly, am kind of scared of doing so. So, do you still want to listen?” With that he flopped back down on to the bed, awaiting the reply. The priest had suggested he talk to Dinnerbone, well, no, he had suggested he talk to someone his own age, and since he had mentioned he got along well with Nathan, that’s what the priest had gone with. He sighed softly.
Dinnerbone sucked on his teeth for a long moment.
“I…yes. I understand it’s not pleasant stuff, but I’ll do my best to help you.” He really did want to help, and hell, he had a therapist himself who he could just talk to if it was that bad.
Pyro sat up and nodded at him slowly before taking a glass of water and draining it. He had set up several glasses in the room; he figured he might need them at some point.
“Well. As you know, I saw him get injured. But that…that incident…that’s not why I have such an issue with the soldiers, no. That’s from what happened three years ago, and what you heard when I locked myself into the shower after school that one time.”
Dinnerbone looked at him attentively, listening carefully, but not saying anything just yet.
Pyro sighed and stared up at the ceiling for a moment before continuing.
“Ma was interned before. Um…arrested and held without trial and without being charged for any crime. That’s what internment is, I mean. And that was…we survived it. But, but. Three years ago, we didn’t know it at the time, but there was a big thing, all over the occupied six counties, they were rounding up people by the scores. And they, and they came and…da wasn’t home at the time, and they and they broke down the front door and came and and and grabbed me and ma and dragged us away. They separated us then, they took ma somewhere else, down to Armagh’s woman’s prison2, I think, but it doesn’t really matter. We were separated. They took me to the gaol in town, though. I think they couldn’t decide what to do with me at first. I was there a week, Dinnerbone, a week. Just a week, but that was plenty long enough.” He shuddered at the memory, trying to avoid crying again.
“That was…it was bad. They were holding some others there, they were also interned, but the soldiers and the police were waiting for room to be opened up at one of the prisons, I think. And doesn’t that fucking tell you something when you’ve interned so many people that you don’t even have any room for them anymore? And the fucking war has been going on for god, decades now, it’s not like we’re exactly low on prison space, what with the number of prisons they’ve built!”
He sighed again, aggravated at the entire thing.
“So they, they held us there. The other internees tried to help me, protect me, but that just made things worse for them and worse for me. I was twelve, Dinnerbone, twelve. A twelve year old shouldn’t have things like that happen, right, right?” He didn’t wait for Dinnerbone to reply before he continued.
“It’s difficult to talk about. You’re the first person I’ve talked to about it, actually. Yeah. They…one does not expect prison guards to be kind, but they, they were downright cruel, and needlessly so. They kicked and punched us if we didn’t move fast enough, or if we moved too fast, or basically because they felt like it and claimed anything at all as a reason. I can’t even tell you how often I was shoved into the cell hard enough to hit the wall and slide down it. I mean, like, get swung into the cell, so you hit the wall that was…ah, perpendicular, you know? to the door. I still have scars, you know. Not just the ones you saw, but all over my back and chest as well. Luckily, they’ve been fading; the injuries were mostly shallow, but still.” He groaned softly, sighing. Not pleasant, not pleasant at all. Even though those injuries were shallow, they had hurt a lot. Rather like paper cuts, he supposed. He had ended up just kind of pressing on them to stop them from bleeding, and tried to ignore them after that. Mostly though, he was glad that the time he had hit his forehead against the wall hadn’t scarred.
“About the only good thing was that they always remembered to feed us, though they watched us the entire time, and usually only had spoons…they seemed to think that forks and knives were too dangerous…I understand with the knives, but forks?? Whatever.” He laughed at that, the meal times were actually the only parts he found amusing, just from how weird it was.
Pyro sat up suddenly and contemplated Dinnerbone for a long moment.
“Do you know what strip searches3 are?”
“Uuuuh, kind of…?” Well, he did kind of know, and what he did know, he didn’t like.
“Yeaaaah, it was disturbing. They did that on intake and then they kind of…rotated through the population there, one group per day, but the groups would change, so like, I was told you’d get searched roughly every five days or so. Which was accurate, it happened on intake and then once again when I was there.” He flopped back down onto the bed with that.
“It was stupid, so stupid. Hated it. And the fucking showers…turn them on and throw you in, no control on the temp or anything at all, get washed as fast as you could. No control over anything at all there, but that was among the more annoying things.” He sighed. And that would be one of the reasons why he always had the temp so high up when he showered. Because he could control it, and he could feel the heat, and it was that hot because he controlled it.
He sighed softly to himself, he was probably boring Dinnerbone with all this, but…he actually felt better telling him, someone else knew now, he wasn’t as alone.
“A week. They took me there Tuesday morning, and I was release Wednesday morning. He took me home. Him not as a father, but as Him.” He rolled his head side to side quickly, he wasn’t sure if that made sense.
“Someone, someone, one of the guards, they figured out who my dad was. Of course they did, I had the military I.D. with me, of course. And they finally, finally called him. Told him to come get me. But not as a father to come get his kid released, noooooo. They had him come as a soldier, take me into his custody. Practically, I think he released me when we got home, but I don’t actually know, and I don’t really want to ask him, cause if I’m wrong…” He didn’t want to finish that sentence. If he was wrong, and he pissed off da, then he’d probably be interned again, most likely. And that was a real bad thing.
“I think, to be honest, that was the first time I was ever really scared of him. Hardly ever saw him in uniform; he normally would change when he got close to the base. But then, then? He was all…dressed up, very army, and it was just…he had this really…dead expression. Flat and very far away, and it was just…he looked like the soldiers that broke down the door, just so much. And I was scared. They dragged me into the first room they had taken me to, and searched me again, and then gave me my clothes back, um um, they had had us in prison clothes, I mean, and I got my normal clothes back, and then they chained me up again, like they did when they broke down the door and dragged me there, and they shoved me at him and he took me home. Didn’t talk at all the entire way home, nor when we got home and he unchained me. He just…lead me back to my room, unchained me, closed the door, and left. He came back at three thirty and we had gotten home at nine in the morning. I think he must have had second shift or something, and had gone and got me, dropped me at home, and gone back to…work. He just looked very…depressed…when he got back. Not angry, like I was expecting…and he came and brought me into the kitchen and feed me and just kind of…watched me. Didn’t say anything. And then I went back to my room and slept. And he came and got me for dinner, and that’s the first time he spoke.” He rolled his head again, trying to get comfortable. Staying in any position for too long had disadvantages, of course.
“He asked me if I was okay. And I just…stared at the food and didn’t say anything. He asked again, and I shook my head no. Didn’t want to talk. He didn’t ask again, at least not that night. Kept trying to get me to talk to him, about what happened. Only told him they came, broke the door, and took us away. Didn’t want to talk about anything else. When ma came home, I cried and clamped on to her, but I only told her I hated it.”
He sat up and stretched, before leaning against the backboard of the bed, so he could look more at Dinnerbone.
“You’re the first person I’ve talked to about that, actually. Ma said she’d look for a therapist, but we can’t find one. I know I shouldn’t, like, burden you with this stuff, but, well…I don’t know what else to do, really.”
“It’s…its okay Pyro, I said you can talk to me, and I meant it.” His head might be spinning from what he was just told, but he damn well meant what he had said.
“Yeah. Can we talk more later? I think we both need a break now. And I kinda…um…could I have another hug, please?”
“Oh! Sure!” Dinnerbone stood up and walked over to the bed and waited for Pyro to stand up on his own. Pyro did so slowly, making sure to not get dizzy from the rather sudden standing and proceeded to immediately hug Dinnerbone very heavily. He sighed softly again.
“I really am sorry for making you listen to me complaining, but it does make me feel better, I’m sorry.”
“Hey, there’s no need to be sorry, I don’t mind. And you need it, after all.”
Pyro nodded slowly before letting Dinnerbone go.
“I suppose so. Thanks. Um…do you think dinner is ready?
“Probably, I think I smell food now.”
Pyro nodded again before heading to the door to go to dinner. Dinnerbone shrugged softly to himself and followed Pyro out to the dining room where Millbee and Baj were both waiting for them to join them.
Dinnerbone wasn’t sure what was going to happen from now on, but hell, at least Pyro was talking. It might only be to him, but that was a good start, he though.
-----
Notes, Translations, etc
1 Apparently you call priests Father. At least, that is what I’ve gathered is done for Roman Catholic priests.
2 http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Armagh_Women%27s_Prison a prison in Northern Ireland.
3http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Strip_search
Link to part Twenty Two- http://mindcracklove.dreamwidth.org/739446.html#cutid1
First cut is to the story, second to the notes.
Sorry for taking so long, this one was hard to write.
Pyro sighed. He had spoken with Baj and had decided that he was going try and talk to the priest for a bit tomorrow after confession, about what he should do about being bothered by the soldier. He hoped that they would be able to figure something out, particularly since he would only be here for about another two weeks, give or take, after having spoken to his da.
That made him happy, of course, but the whole uncertainty of it was very annoying. Uncertainty might be a fact of life, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.
-----
BTC groaned as he paced the barracks floor, still thinking to himself.
He needed to talk to someone, badly. He hated admitting that, but that was a straight up fact at this point, and not doing so would simply make him unfit for duty. And that was one thing he really didn’t want to ever happen.
Sighing, BTC got up and walked down to where the bases Chaplain would be.
knock knock knock
“Come in.”
BTC opened the door and walked in slowly.
“Hello Chaplain.”
“Ah, hello Sergeant. Is there something I can help you with?”
“Yes, actually.”
BTC looked kind of nervous and closed the door behind him, before walking over and taking the seat the Chaplain was indicating for him. Going for help, particularly mental was not something he did often, if at all, and he wasn’t looking forward to explaining this to anyone who had seen him. But hell, they could go…yeah.
“What is it, please?”
“I, erm…everything here is confidential, right?”
“Yes, it is. It operates under the same rules as, say, confession, if you were wondering.”
He wasn’t really, it being confidential was enough for him, but well, that was good, he thought.
Sighing softly, he started to talk about what had been bothering him.
-----
Pyro yawned as he sat listening to the Mass finish up. His uncle had elected to remain with the car this time, and had parked on one of the side streets so he wouldn’t get boxed in. He figured Baj really didn’t like the ladies, as he had let him walk up by himself this time. They had mostly left him alone this time, which he was thankful for, as he mostly wanted to simply go to Mass and confession and then speak to the priest afterwards. He’d already told Baj that he was going to take a bit longer today, so no problems there, he though.
Confession went normally enough, he supposed, though he had used the time to ask to speak to the priest separately, rather than during confession, as that would take too much time away for other people. The priest had agreed to this readily enough, and suggested that he go wait in the office afterwards for him to finish the few remaining confessions.
Pyro swung his feet as he sat on a chair in the priest’s office. Or the church’s office, rather, since it didn’t belong to a specific priest, of course.
He was slightly bored, waiting for the priest to come in from the rest of the confessions.
The door opened and the priest walked in.
“Hello Paul.”
“Hello Father1.”
“So, what is it that you wanted to talk about, then?”
“Well, it’s like this, you see…”
-----
Dinnerbone stared at the table as he set out place settings for lunch. Dad and Pyro had returned from the church earlier, though they had spent longer there than they had the last two weeks. Pyro had mentioned that he had wanted to talk to him after lunch, but when he tried to read his expression, he wasn’t really sure if it was a good or bad thing.
He shrugged to himself as everyone sat down to eat. He was glad to note that lunch seemed to have gone well, or at least, everyone was mostly quiet and calm during it.
When they finished eating, he got up and followed Pyro to his room.
-----
Pyro stared up at the ceiling of the bedroom while Dinnerbone sat on the desk chair, waiting for him to speak. Pyro had closed the door behind them when they went in, Dinnerbone figured that whatever he wanted to talk about, he had only wanted to speak to him about, and not the rest of the house as well.
“You said before, you didn’t mind if I talked to you about stuff, right? Is that still true?”
Dinnerbone blinked at that, but nodded. “Of course it still is.”
“Even though it’s really not nice stuff?” Well, that was a vast understatement.
“I…yes. If it makes you feel better, then yes.”
Pyro sat up and looked at Dinnerbone for a long moment.
“No, I mean, I wanted to talk to you about bad stuff, painful stuff. Stuff from home and why despite knowing that trying to be nice to this soldier is a good thing, why I really really don’t want to and am, honestly, am kind of scared of doing so. So, do you still want to listen?” With that he flopped back down on to the bed, awaiting the reply. The priest had suggested he talk to Dinnerbone, well, no, he had suggested he talk to someone his own age, and since he had mentioned he got along well with Nathan, that’s what the priest had gone with. He sighed softly.
Dinnerbone sucked on his teeth for a long moment.
“I…yes. I understand it’s not pleasant stuff, but I’ll do my best to help you.” He really did want to help, and hell, he had a therapist himself who he could just talk to if it was that bad.
Pyro sat up and nodded at him slowly before taking a glass of water and draining it. He had set up several glasses in the room; he figured he might need them at some point.
“Well. As you know, I saw him get injured. But that…that incident…that’s not why I have such an issue with the soldiers, no. That’s from what happened three years ago, and what you heard when I locked myself into the shower after school that one time.”
Dinnerbone looked at him attentively, listening carefully, but not saying anything just yet.
Pyro sighed and stared up at the ceiling for a moment before continuing.
“Ma was interned before. Um…arrested and held without trial and without being charged for any crime. That’s what internment is, I mean. And that was…we survived it. But, but. Three years ago, we didn’t know it at the time, but there was a big thing, all over the occupied six counties, they were rounding up people by the scores. And they, and they came and…da wasn’t home at the time, and they and they broke down the front door and came and and and grabbed me and ma and dragged us away. They separated us then, they took ma somewhere else, down to Armagh’s woman’s prison2, I think, but it doesn’t really matter. We were separated. They took me to the gaol in town, though. I think they couldn’t decide what to do with me at first. I was there a week, Dinnerbone, a week. Just a week, but that was plenty long enough.” He shuddered at the memory, trying to avoid crying again.
“That was…it was bad. They were holding some others there, they were also interned, but the soldiers and the police were waiting for room to be opened up at one of the prisons, I think. And doesn’t that fucking tell you something when you’ve interned so many people that you don’t even have any room for them anymore? And the fucking war has been going on for god, decades now, it’s not like we’re exactly low on prison space, what with the number of prisons they’ve built!”
He sighed again, aggravated at the entire thing.
“So they, they held us there. The other internees tried to help me, protect me, but that just made things worse for them and worse for me. I was twelve, Dinnerbone, twelve. A twelve year old shouldn’t have things like that happen, right, right?” He didn’t wait for Dinnerbone to reply before he continued.
“It’s difficult to talk about. You’re the first person I’ve talked to about it, actually. Yeah. They…one does not expect prison guards to be kind, but they, they were downright cruel, and needlessly so. They kicked and punched us if we didn’t move fast enough, or if we moved too fast, or basically because they felt like it and claimed anything at all as a reason. I can’t even tell you how often I was shoved into the cell hard enough to hit the wall and slide down it. I mean, like, get swung into the cell, so you hit the wall that was…ah, perpendicular, you know? to the door. I still have scars, you know. Not just the ones you saw, but all over my back and chest as well. Luckily, they’ve been fading; the injuries were mostly shallow, but still.” He groaned softly, sighing. Not pleasant, not pleasant at all. Even though those injuries were shallow, they had hurt a lot. Rather like paper cuts, he supposed. He had ended up just kind of pressing on them to stop them from bleeding, and tried to ignore them after that. Mostly though, he was glad that the time he had hit his forehead against the wall hadn’t scarred.
“About the only good thing was that they always remembered to feed us, though they watched us the entire time, and usually only had spoons…they seemed to think that forks and knives were too dangerous…I understand with the knives, but forks?? Whatever.” He laughed at that, the meal times were actually the only parts he found amusing, just from how weird it was.
Pyro sat up suddenly and contemplated Dinnerbone for a long moment.
“Do you know what strip searches3 are?”
“Uuuuh, kind of…?” Well, he did kind of know, and what he did know, he didn’t like.
“Yeaaaah, it was disturbing. They did that on intake and then they kind of…rotated through the population there, one group per day, but the groups would change, so like, I was told you’d get searched roughly every five days or so. Which was accurate, it happened on intake and then once again when I was there.” He flopped back down onto the bed with that.
“It was stupid, so stupid. Hated it. And the fucking showers…turn them on and throw you in, no control on the temp or anything at all, get washed as fast as you could. No control over anything at all there, but that was among the more annoying things.” He sighed. And that would be one of the reasons why he always had the temp so high up when he showered. Because he could control it, and he could feel the heat, and it was that hot because he controlled it.
He sighed softly to himself, he was probably boring Dinnerbone with all this, but…he actually felt better telling him, someone else knew now, he wasn’t as alone.
“A week. They took me there Tuesday morning, and I was release Wednesday morning. He took me home. Him not as a father, but as Him.” He rolled his head side to side quickly, he wasn’t sure if that made sense.
“Someone, someone, one of the guards, they figured out who my dad was. Of course they did, I had the military I.D. with me, of course. And they finally, finally called him. Told him to come get me. But not as a father to come get his kid released, noooooo. They had him come as a soldier, take me into his custody. Practically, I think he released me when we got home, but I don’t actually know, and I don’t really want to ask him, cause if I’m wrong…” He didn’t want to finish that sentence. If he was wrong, and he pissed off da, then he’d probably be interned again, most likely. And that was a real bad thing.
“I think, to be honest, that was the first time I was ever really scared of him. Hardly ever saw him in uniform; he normally would change when he got close to the base. But then, then? He was all…dressed up, very army, and it was just…he had this really…dead expression. Flat and very far away, and it was just…he looked like the soldiers that broke down the door, just so much. And I was scared. They dragged me into the first room they had taken me to, and searched me again, and then gave me my clothes back, um um, they had had us in prison clothes, I mean, and I got my normal clothes back, and then they chained me up again, like they did when they broke down the door and dragged me there, and they shoved me at him and he took me home. Didn’t talk at all the entire way home, nor when we got home and he unchained me. He just…lead me back to my room, unchained me, closed the door, and left. He came back at three thirty and we had gotten home at nine in the morning. I think he must have had second shift or something, and had gone and got me, dropped me at home, and gone back to…work. He just looked very…depressed…when he got back. Not angry, like I was expecting…and he came and brought me into the kitchen and feed me and just kind of…watched me. Didn’t say anything. And then I went back to my room and slept. And he came and got me for dinner, and that’s the first time he spoke.” He rolled his head again, trying to get comfortable. Staying in any position for too long had disadvantages, of course.
“He asked me if I was okay. And I just…stared at the food and didn’t say anything. He asked again, and I shook my head no. Didn’t want to talk. He didn’t ask again, at least not that night. Kept trying to get me to talk to him, about what happened. Only told him they came, broke the door, and took us away. Didn’t want to talk about anything else. When ma came home, I cried and clamped on to her, but I only told her I hated it.”
He sat up and stretched, before leaning against the backboard of the bed, so he could look more at Dinnerbone.
“You’re the first person I’ve talked to about that, actually. Ma said she’d look for a therapist, but we can’t find one. I know I shouldn’t, like, burden you with this stuff, but, well…I don’t know what else to do, really.”
“It’s…its okay Pyro, I said you can talk to me, and I meant it.” His head might be spinning from what he was just told, but he damn well meant what he had said.
“Yeah. Can we talk more later? I think we both need a break now. And I kinda…um…could I have another hug, please?”
“Oh! Sure!” Dinnerbone stood up and walked over to the bed and waited for Pyro to stand up on his own. Pyro did so slowly, making sure to not get dizzy from the rather sudden standing and proceeded to immediately hug Dinnerbone very heavily. He sighed softly again.
“I really am sorry for making you listen to me complaining, but it does make me feel better, I’m sorry.”
“Hey, there’s no need to be sorry, I don’t mind. And you need it, after all.”
Pyro nodded slowly before letting Dinnerbone go.
“I suppose so. Thanks. Um…do you think dinner is ready?
“Probably, I think I smell food now.”
Pyro nodded again before heading to the door to go to dinner. Dinnerbone shrugged softly to himself and followed Pyro out to the dining room where Millbee and Baj were both waiting for them to join them.
Dinnerbone wasn’t sure what was going to happen from now on, but hell, at least Pyro was talking. It might only be to him, but that was a good start, he though.
-----
Notes, Translations, etc
1 Apparently you call priests Father. At least, that is what I’ve gathered is done for Roman Catholic priests.
2 http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Armagh_Women%27s_Prison a prison in Northern Ireland.
3http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Strip_search
Link to part Twenty Two- http://mindcracklove.dreamwidth.org/739446.html#cutid1
no subject
Date: Saturday, July 5th, 2014 05:45 pm (UTC)(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From: