It's true. I do.

Clint: I know, I know.

Phil: You speak Russian?

She went to church and prayed for a child every Sunday, but no child came. She went to every midwife and wise woman for miles around, and followed all their advice, but no child came.

So at last, though she knew of the dangers, she drew her brown woolen shawl over her head and on Midsummer’s Eve she went out to the forest, to a certain clearing, and dropped a copper penny and a lock of her hair into the old well there, and she wished for a child.

“You know,” a voice said behind her, a low and cunning voice, a voice that had a coax and a wheedle and a sly laugh all mixed up in it together, “that there will be a price to pay later.”

She did not turn to look at the creature. She knew better. “I know it,” she said, still staring into the well. “And I also know that I may set conditions.”

“That is true,” the creature said, after a moment, and there was less laugh in its voice now. It wasn’t pleased that she knew that. “What condition do you set? A boy child? A lucky one?”

“That the child will come to no harm,” she said, lifting her head to stare into the woods. “Whether I succeed in paying your price, or passing your test, or not, the child will not suffer. It will not die, or be hurt, or cursed with ill luck or any other thing. No harm of any kind.”

“Ahhhhh.” The sound was long and low, between a sigh and a hum. “Yes. That is a fair condition. Whatever price there is, whatever test there is, it will be for you and you alone.” A long, slender hand extended into her sight, almost human save for the skin, as pale a green as a new leaf. The hand held a pear, ripe and sweet, though the pears were nowhere ripe yet. “Eat this,” the voice said, and she trembled with the effort of keeping her eyes straight ahead. “All of it, on your way home. Before you enter your own gate, plant the core of it beside the gate, where the ground is soft and rich. You will have what you ask for.”

(Roombaverse, all the ladies. All of these ficlets will be tagged Sci's Fluffuary)

“All right, does everyone have their assignments?”

“If you try to give me an assignment, Lewis, I will see to it that you’re transferred to the legal office,” Maria said, the words gritted out from between clenched teeth.

“Noooooo,” Darcy said, her head falling to the side.  “I’d hate it there.  They know all the rules and actually expect you to follow them.”

“And the lawyers will hate having you there, but I swear to God, I’ll fake a paralegal degree for you myself and exile you,” Maria said.  Beside her, Pepper started to giggle, and Maria gave her a look.  “Do you want her?”

“I would take her in a New York minute,” Pepper said, tipping her oversized sunglasses forward to peek at Maria over the rims.  Maria glanced in her direction, and Pepper smiled.  “Don’t try to bluff me, Hill, I’ll raise every single time.”

Maria’s lips twitched.  “Remind me not to play poker against you.”  She checked her side mirror, and merged into traffic.  “Why are you trying to hand out assignments?”

“We have a lot of ground to cover, and only like-”  Darcy checked her phone.  “Nine hours?  We need to be efficient about this.”

Maria’s eyes narrowed in the rearview mirror.  “Nine hours.”

ICE now tackling press.

they knock him down from behind, they're kneeling on him, and they've set off tear gas. his arms are pinned under him and he can't breathe. look at this photo of his face.

I'm gagging and literally thought I’m going to pass out. I couldn’t breathe. I was thinking I only have a couple of breaths left and I don’t know what’s going to happen after that. I had taken that last shot and I threw my camera. I lifted my head up and saw one photographer taking photos. I threw my camera and then I threw my phone.

this last picture is his camera on top of his citation.

but the insane thing? yk how he said

I had taken that last shot and I threw my camera.

THIS IS THE LAST SHOT

THIS is the photo he took before he threw his camera. how poignant.

If you're wondering why I haven't been around much, surprise! | live in South Minneapolis where things have been pretty bad. BUT my South Minneapolis friends and neighbors have been wonderful. I love my neighborhood and my city. We keep us safe.

For Minnesota residents, Defend612 has some great resources in the links.

ALSO if you're a cartoonist or a comics person, I invite you to journal your experience of how ICE has impacted your life with your own four-panel comics! I'd love to connect with you.

If you're wondering why I haven't been around much, surprise! | live in South Minneapolis where things have been pretty bad. BUT my South Minneapolis friends and neighbors have been wonderful. I love my neighborhood and my city. We keep us safe.

For Minnesota residents, Defend612 has some great resources in the links.

ALSO if you're a cartoonist or a comics person, I invite you to journal your experience of how ICE has impacted your life with your own four-panel comics! I'd love to connect with you.

ICE cannot be allowed to murder anyone in our home. No one should be mourning their mother, their wife, their daughter, and their friend today.

He proceeded to stress them again three more times during orientation. No biggie, I figured, and set a reminder on my phone for 2:45 just to be safe. Other than that I was just shown how to work the ticketing machine and where to find the spare D Batteries for the ancient flashlight they provided me with.

At 11:50 PM the last scheduled train departed. By 00:20 AM all the disembarked passengers had milled off. There was only one other person at the platform, a young homeless man missing a leg. Probably a veteran of one war or the other, there had been so many recently. He was sleeping on one of the benches. My manager had said I was to politely urge any passengers remaining after midnight to leave. He did not seem like a passenger so I let him sleep. It is how I was raised.

At 2:45 AM my alarm went off. I put aside my book, made sure my booth was tidy in case the executive's wife or mother or whoever would come was going to inspect it.

At 2:47 AM she was there.

I did not hear a car, nor approaching footsteps. The Babusia was simply there when she had not been before. A heavily wrinkled old woman, with a crooked nose and a scarf tied around her brittle-looking grey hair. A knobbly wooden walking stick was held by an equally knobbly left hand. She did not seem like the mother of some rich rail tycoon. She reminded me of my grandmother.

But I had never met my grandmother.

"One ticket, please." she requested in a firm voice, placing a small handful of coins on the counter without looking up at me. Most of the coins were obsolete Kopeks, and even counting those it was not enough for half a ticket, but as I was told before I nodded my head and accepted her money. "Of course. "

It suddenly occured to me that I was not told how to print a ticket for this unscheduled train. Before I could remark about it, I saw that the ticket was already at the mouth of the machine. It was green, with red lettering, something the black-and-white printer should not have made. But yet it did. The printing seemed in cyrillic of some sort, but I could not read it.

"Your ticket." I presented, and without thinking added "Do you require assistance to climb the platform stairs, grandmother?" It is how I was raised.

"Yes. Assist me." she replied curtly, beginning to shuffle slowly through the dark station towards the platform. I locked up my booth, and caught up with her just before the stairs. I switched on my heavy flashlight with my right hand, and offered the woman my right to brace herself. Her grip was strong. She probably would have had no issue climbing by herself, but assisting a grandmother was always the right thing to do, even when her sharp fingernails dug painfully into my palm.

We arrived at the platform. The clock hanging from the ceiling read 2:56. She released my hand and took a few steps, then looked at the sleeping man on the bench. "A friend of yours?" she asked. I thought about lying; if she was truly an executive's family, perhaps hosting a friend would be a lighter offense than turning a blind eye?

"No, grandmother." I responded truthfully. "He is not breaking the rules, so I left him alone." It is how I was raised.

The woman hummed. She seemed taller than before. Taller than me. The night draped her shoulders like a shaul and my torch did not reach it. Her gray hair shone like woven starlight, and her eyes were the night sky. I could not look away.

"You are a well-mannered girl." she said, her voice echoing in my ears like silence. She placed something small and hard in my hand.

A train arrived. It had only one car. I think it had a steam engine. It may have walked on chicken legs. I could not look at it.

The Grandmother boarded her train without another word. I was alone in a perfectly dull train station. Almost. The homeless woman behind me mumbled and stretched her legs in her sleep.

Today we released a statement opposing the Trump Administration’s newly proposed leasing plan for offshore oil and gas drilling. The plan would open up our backyard and the entire California coast for consideration for drilling that we and many communities have long fought. 

Healthy, intact ecosystems support thriving wildlife, clean air, and stable weather—all essential for people and nature to flourish. Our ocean and our communities are better off without the threat of devastating oil spills from drilling activity lurking off of the California coast.

In the face of this challenge, our commitments remain clear:

💡Centering science in the fight against climate change. Preventing opportunities for new oil and gas development will help the U.S. limit greenhouse gas emissions, improving the health and resilience of humans and nature. 

📢 Giving a voice to marine wildlife that depend on a clean, thriving ocean. On behalf of important ocean species—”NO” to offshore drilling! 

🤝 Building on restoration efforts still underway after past oil spill catastrophes and keeping up the critical work to protect all of us and our communities in the future. We all have a right to a healthy ocean, and our ecosystems, coastal economy, and livelihoods depend on it.