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averykedavra · 4 years

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Valley of the Dolls 3/10

The wonderful idea of apathy!Roman goes to @caffeinated-cryptid, an amazing artist and all-around great person. Check out their @ts-unsolved au, it owns my heart! This is mostly in line with their ideas, but I took it in a slightly different direction. These chapters are getting steadily longer and I’m sorry. You can find this fic on Ao3 here.

(Title is from Valley of the Dolls by MARINA. Chapter is based around The Record Player Song by Daisy the Great)

Pairings: platonic DLAMPR

Warnings: gun mention, blood mention, eating and food, slight NSFW jokes, depression and depressive symptoms, very minor body horror, self-deprecation, suicidal ideation, sympathetic Remus, sympathetic Janus, a ton of angst (but I’ve got a happy ending planned). Set immediately after Putting Others First.

Summary: After the disastrous video and a week of spiraling, Roman becomes a Dark Side, Apathy. At first, Remus is thrilled, dragging his brother into all sorts of trouble. But Roman’s no fun anymore, the other Sides are paying a visit downstairs, and it’s becoming clear that Thomas can’t survive without Creativity by his side.

Chapter 3: Change of Pace

First. Previous. Next. Masterlist.

Wipe my eyes and cut me off I'm just crying for attention I wish I'd been a teenage rebel Never even got detention I don't really love you I just said that for a change of pace I'm sorry, sometimes I don't recognize my face ...Sometimes I think all I'm ever doing is Trying to convince myself I'm alive.

“So.”

Jan didn’t respond. He was still staring at the door.

“So,” Remus said again, hoping something would happen this time.

“One minute, Remus.”

Remus tapped his feet together and waited. Ten seconds in, he got bored. “So?”

Jan pinched the bridge of his nose. “One. Minute. Remus.”

“It’s been like five minutes already!” Remus complained. “Are you having a mental breakdown?” Remus poked Jan’s cheek. “You seem the type to have a mental breakdown.”

Jan swatted Remus’ hand away. “I am not having a breakdown. I am considering my options.”

“Really?” Remus asked. “What are the options?”

“Forcibly dump Roman back with the ‘Light Sides’, groom him in the ways of evil and selfishness, let him waste away on his own, or burn the entire Mindscape to the ground so I don’t have to deal with this insanity.”

Remus nodded thoughtfully. “I like the last one.”

“Why am I not surprised.”

“But I think you’re forgetting the most entertaining option.” Remus spread his hands. “How about—”

Jan glared at him. “Do not say murder.”

“Ah...” Remus shifted. “Theft! Of his life and internal organs!”

Jan gritted his teeth. “Of course you want to murder Roman.”

“I don’t want to,” Remus protested. “It would just be the most entertaining. He’s more fun when he’s alive! I can stab him and cut his fingers into itty bitty pieces and—”

A vein throbbed in Jan’s forehead. “Remus, be quiet for a second.”

Remus obediently waited a second. “—but I bet we could strangle him without too much trouble, unless you want to be really kinky and get some knives involved—”

“Remus.”

“—I dunno if you’re into that sort of thing...hey, we’ve never found out if you’re poisonous to eat! This could be our chance to—"

“Remus!” Jan snapped. “This has been a very long day. Thomas is sick as a dog from the reconstruction of his entire Mindscape, I had to comfort a sobbing Patton and a panicking Virgil despite not being an empathetic or comforting person, and now I find out that Creativity has been dumped on my doorstep like an unwanted magical orphan. Please, if you have any mercy, let me think.”

Remus looked Jan over. “So...you’re having a breakdown now, right?”

“Why haven’t I killed you yet?”

“Beats me!”

Jan leaned forward and slammed his forehead into Roman’s door.

“JanJan?” Remus tapped his shoulder. “Whatcha doing?”

“Praying for spontaneous human combustion.” Jan squeezed his eyes shut. “Give it a second.”

“C’mon.” Remus lowered his volume and tried his best to sound not entirely maniacal. “Let’s say hi to Roman already! Maybe he’s slept off his weird funk. Or maybe this was all thanks to sleep deprivation or a calcium deficiency and he’ll be back to normal in no time!”

“Should we be so lucky.” Jan slowly raised his head. “I suppose I should greet him, despite him definitely not wishing to see me.”

“He doesn’t want to see anyone,” Remus confessed. “It says so on the door.”

Jan nodded and knocked twice. “Roman? Can we come in?”

There was no reply.

“Let me in,” Jan ordered. “I am not having a repeat of the past nine days, Roman. I need to speak with you.”

Remus looked at the still-locked door. “Um, JanJan? Try not to sound like you’re going to yell at him for stealing your old record player or disown him for stripping. Just a thought.”

Jan sighed. “Fine. Roman, please. I don’t want this to be the case, but...you’re here now, and I want to help. Preferably to get you out of here as fast as possible. Whatever the case, I—I look after everyone down here. That’s my job. I suppose you’re technically part of that now. So...could you let me in?”

There was a long pause. Remus shuffled from foot to foot, ignoring the itch in his hands and feet. Jan glanced at him and tossed him a fidget cube, the one with the buttons. Remus grinned and began to fiddle with it immediately.

Finally there was a soft click and the door swung open.

Jan breathed a sigh of...relief? Who knew with JanJan. He stepped inside and Remus followed, still enjoying the satisfying click of the buttons.

Nothing in Roman’s room had changed. Roman still lay curled on the bed, staring at the wall.

“Hello,” Jan said delicately, fidgeting with his gloves. Remus chewed on his lip and wondered if Jan needed the fidget cube more than him. “Uh, Roman?”

“He’s listening,” Remus explained. “Just doesn’t bother talking back.”

“Okay. Alright.” Jan tried for a smile. “So! You’re Downstairs now? A ‘Dark Side’, to use your terminology? Do you know why that happened?”

Remus chucked the fidget cube at Roman’s back, but even the small thump didn’t make Roman respond.

“Right, I suppose you couldn’t answer any of my questions if you��re currently mute.” Janus flexed his fingers. “Look. Can I be honest with you?”

That got a small derisive huff from Roman. Remus grinned.

“Yes, haha, I’m Deceit, very funny, let’s continue.” Jan tented his fingers. “You’re upsetting the delicate equilibrium I’ve scrounged from what I was given in this miserable dump, and your presence has implications I’d rather not think about. So I would, if you’d be so kind to let me, like to return you Upstairs and have our darling friends the ‘Light Sides’ figure out how to fix this. Do you understand?”

Roman stared at the wall.

“This is very disconcerting,” Jan muttered. “Roman, please move. Or speak. Or convey to me your sentience.”

“Look, he’s not gonna.” Remus shrugged. “Just roll with it and drag him anywhere he needs to go. He’s, like, really depressed.”

Jan’s eyebrows pinched together. “Depressed?”

“Yeah, he’s blue da ba dee da ba die.” Remus waved a hand. “It’s obvious.”

Jan gave Roman a piercing look. “If that’s the case, maybe we should summon that strange therapist with the pink shirt?”

“Roman’s side of the Imagination,” Remus said. “Dunno what it’ll look like right now. I guess we’ll have to explore...other avenues.”

“I don’t know whether you’re implying sex or torture, but no.”

“Hey, they don’t have to be mutually exclusive, if you—"

“I’m going to stop you right there.” Jan clenched his fist. “Why did I take that oath to never silence you guys?”

“Oh yeah!” Remus turned to Roman. “One of the perks of being down here—JanJan doesn’t shut you up! I mean, I guess he never did anyway ‘cause he says you’re easy to manipulate, but—” Janus coughed loudly. “Anyway! It’s actually pretty cool down here, Ro-Bro! We’ve got a couch and everything!”

Jan’s face worked. Remus didn’t know if he was about to smile or frown. “Yes, because Upstairs, they sit on a giant dinosaur plush to watch TV.”

“That sounds really cool though!” Remus exclaimed. “Remind me to make that later. Then we’ll have a couch and a dinosaur plushie and this handsome face and Jan’s cooking and a ton of other cool stuff!”

“Thank you,” Jan said, “for helping me list more reasons that support my claim: Roman should leave now.”

“I’m just trying to make him feel welcome!” Remus crossed his arms twice over so they slipped in and out of each other like slimy spaghetti noodles. “Look, either we stick him back with the Light Sides who are kind of the reason he’s like this, or let him hang out. Or murder him.”

“No murder.” Jan held out a finger. “I draw the line there. The others would be furious and I’m this close to infiltrating them and gaining their trust.”

“Oh, that’s what you’re calling it?” Remus grinned, darting out of reach. “What about that time you almost cried last week ‘cause PatPat gave you a hug—”

Jan hissed. “Be quiet!”

“What? Can’t handle the truth, Deceit?” Remus glanced at Roman. “Anyway, I really don’t think he’ll be telling anyone.”

Jan was silent. Remus took that as a cue to check Roman over and make sure he hadn’t died while they were talking. Out of the dimly lit hallway, he could see the gauntness of Roman’s face and the paleness of his skin. He had a small cape, and the edges were tucked around him in a makeshift blanket nest. His hair was greasy and unwashed, the dark section stiff like someone had rubbed turds into it.

“I could kill him,” Remus said conversationally. He knew he was repeating himself, he knew Jan didn’t want him to keep bringing it up, but the silence was awful and ill-fitting like an itchy Christmas sweater. “I could just knock him in the skull, he wouldn’t feel a thing!”

Jan opened his mouth, probably to tell Remus he was being annoying—yeah, like Remus didn’t already know, like that wasn’t the whole point of his existence—

“Sounds nice,” Roman mumbled, curling tighter into his blankets.

Remus’ train of thought derailed, smashed through the station, and caused the deaths of hundreds of innocent people.

Jan stared at Roman, eyes wide.

“Okayyy,” Remus said slowly. “Um—”

“No!” Jan threw up his hands and stalked towards the door. “No! Absolutely not! I am not equipped for this! We are taking him Upstairs immediately, Remus, and if you get in my way because you want another guinea pig, so help me I will lock you in your room!”

Remus glanced at Roman on the bed. His brother, usually so grand and loud and bold and annoying, looked very small.

“Jan,” Remus called. “Wait.”

Jan paused in the doorway, not turning around. “This had better be good.”

“I—” Remus searched for words. He wasn’t really good at stringing sentences together like Jan, because his thoughts didn’t really come in sentences. They were just bursts of feeling and vivid images.

“Can he stay the night?” Remus sucked in air through his teeth. “I know you hate him, but...maybe a few days?”

“He’s not welcome here,” Jan fired back. “He’s not safe here. You know this.”

“And he’s safe with them?” Remus laughed. “They’re the ones who made this happen in the first place!”

Jan turned around, frowning. “Remus, that’s not what—”

“Please.”

“What?”

“Please,” Remus repeated. “I bet you really want to help but you’re just being slippery about it. Please.”

“Of course I want to help!” Jan snapped. “I protect the ego—helping Roman is, quite literally, in my job description. But I don’t believe letting him wallow in sadness in this hovel hotel will do him any good!”

“So you’re saying you couldn’t do a good job?” Remus laughed. “Hey, I turned out fine! And Virgil’s alright except for the neuroses and panic attacks, but who’s perfect?”

Jan stared at him. “I can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic.”

“You know I don’t understand sarcasm!” Remus clasped his hands. “Pretty please, JanJan? Pretty please with mucus and intestine on top?”

A muscle jumped in Jan’s jaw.

“Fine,” he ground out. “He stays. For now. Only because I am not in the mood to go upstairs and deal with that mess again.”

Remus beamed, running up to Jan and spinning him around. “You’re the bestest, Double Dee!”

“Don’t call me that,” Jan muttered, extricating himself. “Let’s go, it’s time for dinner.”

“Goodie!” Remus clapped his hands. “Can Roman come too?”

Jan gave Remus a weary look. “...I suppose we couldn’t let him starve.”

“Yes!” Remus pumped his fist. “You won’t regret this, I swear!”

“I’m sure I won’t,” Jan agreed, watching Remus with a vaguely amused expression. “Spaghetti and meatballs tonight. Get Roman down the hall without maiming him, if possible.”

“Will do!”

Jan nodded and swept out the door, leaving Remus alone with his conked-out brother.

“So, Ro-Bro.” Remus stuck out his tongue and licked his eyelids. “You ready to get carried again?”

To his surprise, Roman sighed softly and rolled off the bed, landing on the floor with a loud thud.

Remus winced. “Um...good job! You planning to roll to the kitchen?” Roman made a weak gesture.

“You want me to roll you.”

Roman shook his head.

“You—”

Roman slowly, painfully slowly, started to sit up. “Oh!” Remus said, grabbing his hand and helping him to his feet.

Roman slouched, Remus noticed as he finally stood all the way up. His chin was dropped and he didn’t make eye contact. His cape curled around him, a safety blanket. Roman yawned and stumbled.

“Hey, no!” Remus yelled, clapping loudly. “It’s not sleepytime anymore! It’s dinnertime! Do you want to starve to death? Actually don’t answer that, I’m already worried enough about your mental state.”

Roman obligingly didn’t answer. He just sunk out. Remus idly wondered if Roman could rise up anymore or if he’d just appear like the rest of them. Then he thought to wonder where Roman was going.

There was a scream and a crash, and Jan yelled “Please do appear behind me!”

Remus snickered. Question answered.

He sauntered down the hall, pausing to work on a mural he’d been making on the living room wall. It depicted what Remus thought the inside of a stomach would look like. He added a few globs of red on one end before licking the paint off the brush and tossing the brush to the floor.

Jan was boiling water in the kitchen, his extra arms pouring drinks and setting the table. Roman was slumped in one chair, chin in his hand, picking idly at his napkin. Remus swung into the chair opposite him with a large smile and a squelching noise. He tossed a dead duck onto Jan’s chair. Without even looking, Jan grabbed the duck and tossed it in the trash. Boo.

“Here.” Jan ladeled the spaghetti into four bowls. One, he covered with saran wrap and left on the counter. The other three he tossed on the table. Wiping his six hands on the dish towel, Jan finally turned around. Remus saw him flinch slightly when he saw Roman sitting at the table.

Made sense. That used to be Virgil’s spot.

Jan quickly shook off the surprise and sat down, his arms disappearing into his sides. Remus frowned. He liked JanJan’s extra arms. They were all wiggly and opened up all sorts of neat possibilities. He still hadn’t found out if they regenerated after getting cut off. Like a starfish! Or a worm! Or an immortal fire golem! Maybe the hand grew a mind of its own and would scuttle around like one of Virgil’s spiders. It would be fun to have a pet hand. All of Roman’s pets ended up dying gruesomely, and almost five times it wasn’t his fault.

“Eat,” Jan said gently, winding spaghetti around his fork. He’d given Remus a fork, probably out of some delusional optimism that Remus would actually use it. Remus stabbed the fork into his shoulder for safekeeping and shoved a handful of spaghetti into his mouth. Then he popped in two meatballs, squirted sauce directly into his mouth, and swallowed.

Jan pointedly stared at his plate.

Roman wasn’t eating at all. He poked idly at the spaghetti, elbow on the table.

“Cheese?” Jan offered, pushing a bowl of grated cheese toward him.

Roman stared at it thoughtfully. His arm whipped out and he grabbed a handful of cheese, stuffing it into his mouth.

“You know,” Remus said, grinning, “I’m starting to like you.”

“There’s two of you.” Jan watched Roman swallow with disgust. “There’s two of you.”

“This is all I’ve ever wanted.” Remus wiped a fake tear from his eye. “Someone who truly understands me.”

Jan snorted. Roman didn’t. He let the remaining pieces of cheese fall from his hand and resumed staring at his spaghetti.

“It’s not poisoned,” Remus assured him. “Jan wouldn’t do that again. And anyway, I’d have been poisoned by now. Unless it’s one of the poisons I’ve built up a resistance to. Then you might be screwed.”

Roman set his fork down and pushed the plate away.

“Roman,” Jan said, rolling his eyes. “It’s not poisoned.”

Roman pushed the plate a little further away.

“Cheese isn’t a meal.” Jan pushed the plate back. “You need to eat.”

Roman looked away. “Not hungry.”

Jan gave Remus a loaded expression. Remus didn’t like that. The only things he liked loaded were guns and bank accounts.

But Jan took another bite of spaghetti and his expression smoothed over. “It was a huge scene Upstairs.”

“Really?” Remus leaned forward. “I want the juicy details!”

“Well, they’re all extremely distraught about the loss of their prince.” Jan’s eyes flickered over to Roman. “Virgil had a panic attack, I believe. Logan was furious, I couldn’t tell who at. Thomas immediately collapsed with a fever, and Patton wouldn’t stop sobbing into my shoulder.” Jan brushed at the offending shoulder. “It might have been amusing under different circumstances, but this time it was just sad.”

“Damn.” Remus tore a meatball in half and stuck the halves on his middle fingers. “Wish I could have seen that.”

“They probably won’t fully recover for days.” Jan glanced at Roman again. “That entire debacle in Roman’s room shook Virgil and Thomas up. I have no idea what actually happened, but from what I heard, it sounds nightmarish.”

Roman curled into himself, grasping at one side of his cape. “Sorry,” he whispered into his spaghetti.

“No, I—” Jan stammered. “R-right. Well, doubtless as soon as they recover, your friends will be marching down here and getting you back. Virgil especially would hate to leave you in such company. They won’t trust me to take care of you, that’s for certain. Perhaps they’ll mount some sort of rescue mission.” Jan smirked. “That would certainly be entertaining. If they call upon me to play the villain, I will gladly oblige.”

“Liar,” Roman muttered. “What?”

Roman’s mouth closed. Jan stared at him. So did Remus.

“O-of course I’m a liar,” Jan said. “My name is Deceit.”

Wait—which was the lie? That Jan would want to play villain? That the Sides didn’t trust Jan? That the Sides would come for Roman at all?

Remus funneled spaghetti into his mouth. Thinking sucked. That’s why he left the smarty-pants stuff to Jan.

Jan, who was now stabbing at his spaghetti viciously. Roman’s eyes closed and he seemed to fall asleep in the table. Remus grabbed his bowl and placed it on his head, letting the remaining tendrils of spaghetti crawl down his forehead.

Jan slammed his fork on the table. “Did I do this?”

Remus scrunched up his face in confusion. “Do what? A murder? A butthole?”

“This.” Jan gestured violently at Roman. “Is this my—I mean, am I going to be held accountable for this?”

“Why do you care?” Remus asked.

“I’d rather not be burned at the stake for corrupting the good prince Creativity.” Jan bit into every word. “So? Roman? Is this my fault?”

Roman didn’t open his eyes. Remus was sure he hadn’t heard the question until Roman said,

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?” Jan hissed. “That is not an answer!”

Roman shrugged. “Doesn’t matter now.”

Jan opened his mouth and shut it again.

“If you’re not gonna eat your food,” Remus said to Roman, “can I—”

“I’ll save it as leftovers,” Jan interrupted, taking Roman’s plate and sliding it into the fridge. “Remus, touch it and your life is forfeit.”

Remus pouted. “Roman wouldn’t mind, right, Roman?” Roman snored softly, head on the table.

“Is he asleep?” Jan asked.

“I guess?” Remus shrugged. “Must have been tired.”

“Hmph.” Jan placed the dirty dishes in the sink. “There goes my plan to force him into doing dishes. If he’s loitering around for the night, he may as well make himself useful.”

Remus looked at Roman, who was drooling on the table. “Yeah, I wouldn’t count on it.” Janus sighed loudly, casting his eyes up to the ceiling.

“But I can do the dishes!” Remus offered, jumping up and wiggling his fingers. “I’ll just need some hot wax, molten lava, and—”

“Never mind.”

“It’ll take like three seconds! Literally!”

“Never mind, Remus.”

“Fine, whatever.” Remus kicked his chair. “You’re full of don’ts today. What can I do?”

Jan’s face pinched. “I suppose you can accompany me this evening.”

“Yay!” Remus hugged Jan quickly. “What are we doing?”

“I was thinking Aladdin. A classic tale of lying and deceiving one’s way to the top.”

“Alright!” Remus grinned. “I like the genie.”

“You would.” Jan glanced at Roman. “Maybe a Disney movie would—get him moving.”

“I don’t think he’d get moving if there was nuclear fallout, but worth a shot.” Remus slid into the living room. “Let’s go!”

“You get it ready,” Jan said. “I have to...” He picked up the fourth plate of spaghetti.

“Right.” Remus really, really didn’t want to be alone with his brother. It would be silent and deadly. “I’ll come with!”

Jan, to his credit, didn’t look immediately disgusted. “Remus, I don’t think that’s necessary—”

“I’m coming!” Remus winked and congratulated himself for his innuendo. Then again, everything was innuendo if you said it right. “You said we’d get to hang out! So I’m sticking to you like a barnacle on the bum!”

“Sh*t,” Jan said, not looking that disappointed.

“Do you have some?” Remus asked, dancing over to the hallway. “That’d make things interesting! Come on, JanJan, let’s not keep him waiting!”

Jan pushed past Remus and strode down the hall. Remus followed, reciting every sex position he knew. It was victory every time Jan winced or said “Really, Remus?” Heck, it was a victory every time Jan looked in his direction. Momentary distraction was the peak of Remus’ social skills and all he could ever hope to achieve.

They passed Remus’ room—Remus made sure to make the door roar loudly and enjoyed Jan’s little jump—and came to the handle-less door. Jan carefully unlocked the flap and slid the spaghetti inside. As soon as it fell in, he slammed the flap shut and locked it again.

“Why do you do that?” Remus asked, summoning a bone and chewing on it.

“You know how dangerous he is.” Jan stood up and wiped off his gloves.

“No, I mean, why feed him? It’d be safer if you...let him be, right?”

Jan gave Remus a piercing look. “He’s a part of Thomas too, whether we like it or not. I’m self- preservation. I can’t just let him starve.” Jan marched back down the hallway. “Aladdin, was it?”

“Huh.” Remus tossed the bone at a wall and it cracked in two. “So how’s Roman different?”

Jan froze. “I...Because Roman has somewhere else to go. Aladdin, right? Let’s go, Remus.”

Remus spared a glance at the unmarked door and followed.

Aladdin was alright. Remus made a little ding sound every time Aladdin was shown shirtless. Janus hummed along to all the songs, though he bared his teeth when Remus pointed it out. Roman woke up briefly about halfway through, having been transplanted to a pile of cushions on the couch. Remus wondered if he would sing along. Instead he just hummed to himself and closed his eyes. For a second he nodded along to the music—no, no he was just nodding off, and okay he was asleep again.

When Aladdin ended, Remus put on The Shining. Janus took that as a cue to leave.

“Put Roman to bed,” Janus reminded him. “Well...he’s already asleep, but don’t let him stay on the couch all night.”

“He seems pretty chill,” Remus said, watching Roman’s bangs ruffle with each snore.

“Then do whatever you want.” Janus yawned. “This has been a thoroughly delightful day and I hate to end it, but my brain may explode if I have to continue thinking. Don’t burn anything down.”

“No promises!” Remus said. “Night, JanJan!”

“Sweet dreams, Remus.”

Yeah. Right.

Jan disappeared down the hallway, leaving Remus alone. It was the boring part of The Shining, so he fast-forwarded to the weird part. Roman didn’t wake up even when the screams started. Still, it was kind of nice to have company. Usually Remus spent his nights alone, bingeing horror flicks until his eyeballs were red. He didn’t really get tired, so it didn’t matter, and he did some of his best work at night.

It definitely wasn’t because of the nightmares.

Remus caught himself mid-thought. Lying would just alert JanJan. And it wasn’t Jan’s business. Yeah, maybe Remus missed Jan’s lullabies and being able to actually act on that promise that ‘My door is always open, Remus.’ Maybe it would be nice if he didn’t have grisly dreams of his friends dying every night. But Jan was busy these days. And Remus was Intrusive Thoughts. This was part of the deal. Remus was all the nasty stuff siphoned off of Roman to keep it away from Thomas. It was his job. And Remus loved his job! Just...not the side effects.

Remus turned up the volume until his eardrums rattled and he couldn’t hear himself think. Roman muttered something and turned over.

It was loud. Really loud. Remus barely noticed when someone appeared in the doorway.

He did notice when the TV turned off.

“Hey!” Remus whirled. “Jan, what gives—”

It wasn’t Jan.

“Sorry,” Patton said, “but I’d like to talk to you.”

“Um.” Remus debated hollering for backup. “This isn’t the best time.”

“I know.” Patton stepped forward, wringing his hands. “Please? Just a minute?”

Remus shrugged, catapulted himself over the back of the couch, and bowed. “What can I help you with? You finally decided to murder that really annoying barista?”

“What? No!” Patton frowned. “Remus, murder is wrong!”

“Yeah, yeah, if you’re boring.” Remus waved a hand dismissively. “Anyway, what’s the scoop? Haven’t got all night.”

“Right.” Patton nodded. “Um, have you seen Roman?”

Remus choked on air. “Say what now?”

“Roman,” Patton repeated. “Look, stuff—um, kind of got out of control today, so I was wondering—”

“Of course he’s here!” Remus laughed. “He’s a Dark Side now, PatPat! He’s asleep on the couch right now!”

There was a loud thump behind him.

“He’s asleep on the floor!” Remus winced. “Give me a sec?”

Patton nodded. Remus vaulted back over the couch and grabbed Roman’s sleeping form. “C’mon, bro, that cannot be comfortable. I’m putting up with the couch thing ‘cause I’m lazy and like the company, but you’ll put a real crick in your neck down there. Come on, up you get. There we go.” He shoved Roman into the pillows, made sure he was secure, and popped back over the couch. “You were saying?”

Patton’s eyes were wide. “He’s...he’s a Dark Side?”

“Oh, don’t act so pleased about it!” Remus folded his arms. “Thought you were trying to be nicer to us.”

“I am, I just—” Patton glanced at Roman, who was snoring on the couch. “I’m worried about him.”

“’Course you are! Join the club!” Remus grinned. “But he’s alright for now. We’ve got things under control!”

Patton didn’t look convinced. “Can you let me talk to him?” “He’s asleep.”

“When he wakes up?”

“He’ll probably fall right back asleep.”

“Well.” Patton nodded. “I’d like to talk to him at some point. Bring him Upstairs when you can.”

“Sure,” Remus said, gritting his teeth. “Upstairs. Soon.”

“Thanks,” Patton said, looking relieved. Remus noticed the skin around his eyes was red. “Um, tell Janus hi? And tell Roman...tell him I love him, alright?”

“Tell him yourself some other time.”

“I-I did.” Patton bit his lip. “He didn’t believe me.”

“Oh.” Remus clicked his tongue. “Gotcha. I’ll tell him.”

“Thanks,” Patton said again. “That means a lot.”

“Cool,” Remus said. “Are we...done here? ‘Cause I’ve got, like, things to do—”

“Right! Sorry!” Patton laughed. “I’ll get out of your hair!”

“Have fun,” Remus said, strolling to the couch. “Stay alive, don’t turn into a frog with abs again ‘cause that was weird even by my standards, and watch your step ‘cause your left foot is in a puddle of blood.”

Patton squeaked and stumbled backwards. Remus laughed as he tried frantically to wipe off his shoes. Finally he just removed the shoe altogether, pinching it between two fingers and looking at it warily.

“Bye!” Remus said, hopping on top of the couch and waving.

“Bye!” Patton called back. “Oh, and Remus?”

Remus twisted his neck around like an owl. “Yeah?”

Patton didn’t even flinch. “I’m glad Roman has you. Good luck, kiddo.”

“Oh.” Remus tried not to cry. “Uh. Cool. Yeah.”

Patton gave him another smile and walked back down the hall.

Remus sank weakly into the couch, staring at the blank TV. His stomach was doing weird things. It was all bubbly and fizzy and light like he’d swallowed a sparkler. He hated it.

So he turned the TV back on. Roman slept through the night, Remus didn’t sleep at all, and despite all the blood and guts he filled his head with it, he couldn’t avoid the memory of Patton’s soft smile.

Next. Masterlist.

General taglist:

@the17thmeatball

@most-likely-fandom

@csi-baker-street-babes

@caffeinated-cryptid

Valley of the Dolls taglist:

@marsofthestars55

@cluttered-wonder

@wouldnt-you-like-that

@gotta-love-alejandra

@mihaela-tbg

@tombombadi1

@kaefish

@not-enough-sketchbooks

@marshmallow-fluffy

@confusedhost

@ghostlygalactics

@a-salty-alto

@youthquake-in-the-making

@itriedandimtired

@aromantic-karamatsu

@fear-is-nameless

@somehow-i-got-an-account

@sanders-cider

@astronomical-bagel

@aprincehasgotoslay

@boomboxwizard14

@fancycomedypositivitypeanut

@willowaudreykeyes

@lovestruck-prince

@galaxy-emo12

@shade-romeo

@glassferns

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one-leaf-grimoire · 3 years

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crocodile tears

Chapter 1: in which marina has the worst day of her life

Hi! And welcome! Yes, I am publishing the first chapter of this fic on my Black Clover blog, I know it’s a little bizarre. Ahem. Anyway- I hope you guys will read this and enjoy it if you like jojo! I know there’s plenty of overlap between these two fandoms. DM or inbox me if you’d like to be added to the taglist!

Synopsis: Marina considers herself to be a normal teenager, despite both being the daughter of a senator and the center of many bizarre happenings throughout her life. However, everything gets turned upside down when her whole family is kidnapped. In that moment of fear, something within her awakens. Little does she know, this power is called a Stand, and she has caught the eye of the worst person imaginable. Marina must learn to master her stand, and decide where her loyalties lie: with the man who saved her life or with her newfound friends?

Warnings: Violence, frightening scenes, language, and Dio being toxic lol

March 6th, 1988

Cool water enveloped her body. Everything was cloaked in a sea green haze.

She was laying on the bottom of the riverbed, staring up at the muted sun. A crocodile swam by, almost lazily. It did not notice her, and she didn't feel scared.

It was just a crocodile.

"Marina... Marina, wake up already!"

Something cold and clammy grasped the 17-year-old girl's foot. Marina let out a scream and quickly recoiled under the soft white linens on her bed. "Five more minutes, mom!"

Marina’s mother scowled at her only daughter. She was already dressed in long, light pants and a tropical looking shirt. An over-sized hat adorned her head atop dark brown hair, a few shades lighter than her only daughter's. "Marina, we have five minutes before the ship docks. Dad's already gone up to eat."

"Well, that's just Dad," the girl grumbled back, pulling the covers more tightly around her shoulders, as if this cocoon would keep her safe from her mother's impending wrath. "He gets up early every day, that shouldn't mean that we also have to be up at the crack of dawn."

"It's not the crack of dawn, it's nearly ten o'clock already. The ship is running a little early, so we'll have more time to explore Alexandria."

Marina's only reply was a grunt. Her mother sighed. "What is it with you this morning?" She shook her head and swung her bag over her shoulder. "I'll be up on the top deck watching us dock. It's nice and warm outside, so dress accordingly. We'll see you in five minutes, or it's going to be a very long time before you get to go on another cruise, young lady." A few moments later, and the door shut.

Marina groaned and finally blinked her eyes open, immediately feeling the pounding pain of a migraine wash over her temple. Ouch... did I have a nightmare last night? Usually I sleep like a baby on these cruises.

Marina and her family had been on numerous cruises throughout her life. Her father, Mitchell Porosus was a state senator, and earned a comfortable paycheck, so the Porosus family was able to go on trips whenever congress was on a break. Marina wished her dad was around more, but overall the family dynamic was happy and harmonious. Marina had her 17th birthday recently, and this cruise was supposed to be a celebration of that.

“You know what that means?” her father had told her that day. “You’re the same age as the Dancing Queen! You know, the song? Dancing Queeeen, young and sweeet, only seventeeen-”

Of course they were in public when they said that, so Marina was horribly embarrassed by her father’s terrible singing voice. For someone with a public reputation, he sure didn’t mind ruining it!

But in the end, it was sweet. Her father loved ABBA and Elton John, and Marina imagined that the two of them would dance to Dancing Queen or Tiny Dancer at her wedding.

Marina loved her dad and mom, and that was the reason why she finally dragged herself down from the bunkbed. From their room on the second level, she could see the dock inching closer and closer. With a yawn, Marina turned and walked into the bathroom, where she finally was able to look upon her tired face in the mirror. Her short, black hair was frizzled, but a few brush strokes later reverted it to its usual sleek form. Marina stretched her arms above her head, wincing a little as she heard her shoulders pop. Jeez, good thing I don’t have a swim meet today, my joints are all out of whack. Her blue-grey eyes, still bloodshot from a fitful sleep, harbored a major case of the dark circles. Nothing a little makeup couldn't fix.

A few minutes later, Marina was finally dressed in some high waisted jeans and a non-descript tank top. She had her trusty mirrored sunglasses on, yet the sunlight from the window was enough to make her eyes water. Leaving her room, she walked down the hallway, strutting with her hands deep in her pockets, her fingers running over the ID card given to her upon embarkation. Marina Porosus.

"Finally, there you are," her father greeted when she made it down to the gangway. "Ready to see Egypt?"

Her father was a tall man, with jet black hair like Marina's. While her mother's eyes were a warm brown, his were blue. He looked like your stereotypical senator, even if he didn’t act like it.”

"Do they even have any pyramids in this town?" Marina asked, a bit apathetically.

Her mother shook her head. "No pyramids, but there used to be a library here, the library of Alexandria!"

Marina raised an eyebrow. "Used to be? Well, what's here now?"

Her parents were at a loss for words. "Well, why don't we go see!" her father exclaimed optimistically, throwing his arms around his daughter and wife.

For the first time that morning, Marina smiled. Even if it was just her parents and her, the three of them would have a good time.

Alexandria was lively place, full of noise and life. Most of it was centered around the port, where the single cruise ship was docked. It was like any other port Marina had visited, except the air was much more dry than the Caribbean. Even Italy was more humid. Marina walked behind her parents as they made their way farther inland. “There’s some ancient ruins I want to check out,” her father said excitedly. “And are you still curious about the Library of Alexandria, Marina?”

Marina shrugged. “Was I curious to begin with?”

“Yes!” her father asserted. “Anyway, there’s a museum all about it farther inland. The walk is a little long, but it’ll be fun!”

Marina sighed, shaking her head a little. She knew her father had enough money to rent a cab, but he was stubborn and insisted that walking “built character.”

“Tarot card readings! Have your fortune told by the Tarot!”

For some reason, Marina’s feet stalled. Slowly, she stopped, then turned her head towards the source of the voice.

No... it wasn’t the voice that drew her there.

It was... something else.

Like magnetism. Gravity. Marina’s gaze fell upon a short, clocked figure, sitting at the mouth of an alley. The voice was feminine, wracked with age, but Marina couldn’t be sure. For a moment, she almost kept walking, but a moment of hesitation was all it took.

“Dad! Can I get my fortune told?”

Her parents stopped and looked back at her. Her father eyed the fortune teller suspiciously. “Ah, Marina, you don’t believe that stuff, do you?”

“So? It’ll still be fun.” Marina looked back over at the fortune teller. She still had that weird feeling, like that person was someone she knew. “Anyway, Tarot Card readings originated in ancient Egypt, so isn’t this a good experience to have while here?”

Well, her father couldn’t deny that. “Here-” He handed the cloaked figure a twenty dollar bill. “Will this suffice?”

“Certainly.” A deck of cards appeared from under the sleeve of their cloak, and instantly shuffled itself. They spread out across the makeshift table. A wrinkled hand gestured at the line. “Go ahead... pick three, my dear.”

Slowly, Marina reached down. With one finger, she slid one card forward, then another, and then a third. The fortune teller swept them up immediately and placed them face up. Marina’s eyes narrowed as she saw the pictures on the cards, but couldn’t read the writing on them. “So? What does it mean?”

With a soft chuckle, a withered finger pointed at the first. “This card represents your past... This is the Six of Wands card! Confidence, recognition, and success... you’ve known all three throughout your life.”

Marina gulped, shrugging a little. Maybe... but everyone’s had some sort of success in their life! That seems a little too broad.

“And this is the present-” They gestured at the middle card. “This is the Tower Card... it represents catastrophic change, and... awakening.”

Awakening? That’s interesting... I don’t know what that could be.

“Tell me...” Marina looked up to see an eye peering out from behind the hood. It narrowed curiously. “This card is one of the Major Arcana... it represents a milestone in your life. You must have noticed, then... even if you don’t know quite yet...”

Marina wasn’t sure she liked the way the fortune teller was spinning this. I haven’t noticed anything like that! “Okay... and the last card is the future?”

“Yes, yes...”

The fortune teller’s finger fell upon the face of the last card. Unlike the first two, it was reversed, facing away from Marina. “This card, when reversed, represents dissatisfaction, delays, and... an endless, fruitless search for closure.”

Marina felt a chill go down her neck.

“The World.”

The family left the fortune teller behind after that. Even as they searched farther inland, visiting temples and museums, Marina could not shake the slowly growing pit of dread in her stomach.

A few hours later, it was almost time to get back on the ship. The problem was that the small family had made their way a little too far inland and were now in real danger of being left behind.

"This is all your fault, dad!" Marina scolded as she jogged behind her parents. There was a taxi station nearby where they could get transport to the port. "You always geek out over this historical stuff and make us late to things!"

"Well, your mother wanted to get that hat from that store back there, too, so I'm not the only one to blame," he yelled back. "In any case, we can just hop on a taxi and-" His face fell, and the family skidded to a halt. The entire plaza was slammed, bumper to bumper traffic as far as they could see. "Mitchell, we're definitely going to miss the boat," her mom said quietly. Of course, Senator Porosus stayed enthusiastic, shaking his head. "No, we'll make it if we run."

Marina groaned as her father and mother started to run again. "Seriously?" It wasn't that Marina couldn't keep up; she had been swimming her entire life and had great stamina. It was just so damn hot out.

"If you hurry, we'll make it back in time for dinner," her mother encouraged, spurring Marina on into a true run.

With her dad leading the way, the trio raced down the street towards where they thought the port was. There were a lot of people walking on the sidewalks, but it wasn't hard to weave between them without disturbance. Marina craned her neck and, with a ton of relief, spied the top of their ship up ahead. "I can see it, Dad!" she exclaimed, already thinking about what she was going to eat for dinner tonight. "We're going to make it!"

"Here, let's cut through this road." He pointed at an alley that seemingly cut over to where the embarkation area was. "We can beat some of the line as well."

"Perfect!" Marina changed course and ran ahead of her parents and into the alleyway.

For a moment, the sounds of the busy streets died away, leaving only three pairs of footsteps slapping their way down the stone path. The buildings on either side were tall enough to block out the afternoon sun, leaving them in a comfortable chill.

Up ahead was a corner. Marina quickened her pace and turned into...

A dead end.

"Shit," her dad exclaimed, earning him a sharp kick in the shin from his wife. "Ah, excuse my french. Back luck, huh." He shrugged, ever optimistic. "Well, I guess we can double back and keep running."

"Yeah," Marina’s mom agreed.

Marina sighed. What a let down! Well, it wouldn't take too long to get back, at least, at this rate we’ll make in in time-

Marina turned around to see that five men, all armed with guns, had cornered them in the dead end.

"Look at this, just the man we were looking for!” one of them pointed at Marina’s dad. “This is the senator we were told to capture? He doesn’t look like much.”

“Don’t worry, this is him... Senator Porosus, a friend of yours sends this message:” one of the men grinned. “You’ve been in my way for too long, Mitch. It’s time for me to put the fear of God in you. Enjoy your extended stay in Egypt!”

“What? Who hired you?” Mitchell gulped and pulled his wife and daughter behind him. Marina felt her mom's cold hand clutch her arm. This time, she didn't try to shrug it off. “I’ve done nothing but get along with everyone. They all want to see me reach the top! I’m gonna be President one day-”

“We’ll see about that.” The man in charge raised his gun. “For now, come to our truck. We’ll make you and your family comfortable until someone generous pays your ransom.”

Oh no, they had a truck somewhere.

"Look... I don’t care what you do to me.” Senator Porosus said, his voice shaking a little. For someone in so much danger, he was staying pretty composed. “But leave my family out of it!”

“Mitchell-” Marina’s mother whispered, her grip on Marina loosening slightly. “Just do what they say, and-” She was cut off with a scream as one of the men yanked her away from her family.

Marina's eyes widened. Shit! This is actually happening- It was like a scene from a movie, some horrible, scary movie, and panic spiked through Marina’s veins. "MOM! DAD!" Someone grabbed Senator Porous as well, and now two more were advancing towards Marina.

"Don’t even try, you’re just going to get hurt!” one of the guys said with a twisted grin. Marina screamed and struggled anyway as her arms were twisted behind her body.

No... NO!

This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. This was supposed to be their last stop before flying home, where Marina would finish up the year and enjoy the summer with her friends. But now-

Catastrophic change... and-

With one last burst of strength, Marina wrenched her arm away, freeing herself for a moment. She turned around, her eyes wide and crazed with adrenaline.

Awakening.

The gun leveled at her head was suddenly crunched into a flat piece of scrap metal. The man holding it didn’t have a moment to realize what had happened, because numerous spots of his arm suddenly burst with blood.

He opened his mouth to scream, stumbling back, but it was as if something was clamped down on his arm, hard. Bones crunched as he was suddenly wrenched to the side, and the movement sent him flying into the nearby brick wall.

Marina froze.

What- what on earth-

But then something hit her in the back of the head, hard, and she fell back down to the bottom of the river.

The crocodile continued to circle high above.

And that’s chapter one!!!! I hope you guys are intrigued 0.0 Please comment/inbox/etc if you have any theories or thoughts, I always appreciate them! I’ll probably post the next chapter on Friday. I changed a couple things to make the story flow better than it did when I first released it. Anyway, see you next time!

Also, did anyone catch the meaning of Marina’s last name? hehe...

#jojo's bizarre adventure #fic #crocodile tears #oc: marina #jjba

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jarienn972 · 5 years

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The Right Place - Chapter Nineteen and Epilogue

For anyone who has been following this fic, you’ll know it was last updated in early October, 2018 and while my plans were to finish it at that time, it ended up being exactly one week before my mother passed away and I just couldn’t get myself into the right mindset to complete it. Then, a couple of months ago, the @csmarchmadness idea came along to help give us writers a little boost of confidence to finish those nagging WIPs and I decided to go ahead and tackle this story. (I’m a little late getting it posted today, but technically, it is still 3/22 here in FL as I’m posting)

I’ve loved this concept from the beginning as it took Emma out of her magical comfort zone to solve a real world crime, working alongside law enforcement colleagues in Portland, Maine. As I did with the opening chapters, I tacked the epilogue onto the end of this chapter to provide a fitting bookend.

This is the last installment of a nearly 80K word fic so it has honestly been a beast to write, especially since it ended up taking far longer to complete than I’d planned. You can read the entirety of this story on AO3 or FF.net or find the earlier chapters here: Prologue/Chap1 Chap2 Chap3 Chap4 Chap5 Chap6 Chap7 Chap8 Chap9 Chap10 Chap11 Chap12 Chap13 Chap14 Chap15 Chap16 Chap17 Chap18 I’m also tagging my cheerleader, @hookaroo who has been looking forward to the final chapter of this fic for a while now! (edited to add Tumblr link to Chap 18 after I realized it had never been posted on Tumblr. Oops...)

Saturday Morning – Portland Harbor

The tempest of the overnight thunderstorms had given way to a breezy, warmer Saturday morning. Hazy sunlight filtered through the window coverings of the McCallen's guest room as Emma was awakened by the persistent blip of notifications popping up on her cell phone, all of them informing her of the incoming text messages from Regina. According to the texts, Ursula would be waiting for them at the same Harbor front park at 9am with some updated news regarding her offer to return the Jolly Roger to her berth in Storybrooke's marina. While Killian wasn't keen on anyone else taking the helm of his beloved ship, he'd conceded to the basic fact that at the present time, he lacked the physical stamina to sail her back home himself.

Emma would have preferred another hour of sleep since it this was far too early on a Saturday morning by her opinion, but since they did have the drive home ahead of them, she begrudgingly swung her feet over the side of the bed. It wasn't a particularly long trip, but she still needed to be wide awake and she didn't want to get back too late. After nearly a week away, she was certain there would be a mountain of backlogged work awaiting their return. She noticed that Killian had already vacated his side of the bed, waking up before his wife to wander into the kitchen where McCallen had left coffee brewing for them and a note stating that he had ventured out the station to finish his paperwork from yesterday's major breakthroughs in the case.

Killian seemed a tad more upbeat this morning and even seemed to handle the walk from the parking lot down to the waterfront better, only needing to pause once to catch his breath. The Sea Witch was already waiting for them, scouting out a quiet bench away from the multitude of park visitors who were enjoying the pleasant start to what was shaping up to be a beautiful day.

"You're late," Ursula grumbled in greeting. "I thought you seafaring types were known for better timing?"

"My seafaring timing is as precise as ever," Killian replied, voice tinged with a hint of offense. "However, you should be aware that in this realm there's a thing called traffic."

"We would have called to let you know we were running a little late if we'd had a way to contact you aside from a conch shell," Emma reminded the witch.

"Cell phones simply aren't the most reliable where I come from," Ursula countered with a grin that Emma wasn't sure was intended to be jovial or sinister. "Anyway, I've made all of the arrangements to transport your ship as promised. My niece will not be allowed to interfere with the vessel's passage."

"May I ask what arrangements you've made?" Killian queried. "Who did you find to sail her or is the transport to be more of a magical variety? I prefer not to have someone inexperienced at the helm."

"I managed to round up a few of your remaining crew, led by your former first mate, Mr. Smee. It'll primarily be for show though as once it reaches open waters, I can push your little boat along a bit easier…" Killian frowned at her use of the term little boat in reference to his ship, but held his tongue.

"So, my ship should be back in the harbor by the time we reach Storybrooke?" Killian chose to ask instead.

"Should be. Your crew is on their way here as we speak. I managed to find a fisherman who was willing to bring them down here to retrieve the Jolly Roger, although you may need to round up some of those gold doubloons you have stashed to pay the man for his service."

"How generous of you to offer up my funds as payment," he quipped sarcastically, although he was secretly grateful for all Ursula had done. She'd already rescued him from a watery grave so having her assistance in returning his beloved Jolly Roger to her home port was truly going above and beyond.

"I assume you have plenty of funds hidden, pirate," Ursula responded while flashing a broad grin. "Anyway, I need to get out of here before this park gets any busier so that I can supervise the return trip. See you in Storybrooke, Captain."

"Aye," Killian responded with a nod and a smile as the Sea Witch turned to depart, leaving him wondering exactly how much gold she'd promised his crew. But as she began to stroll towards the water's edge, Killian recalled one additional thing he wanted to ask her. "Ursula?" he called to her before she was out of earshot, grateful when she turned to face him again. "One last thing, if I may?"

"And that is?"

"Would you have my crew sail a pass through the inner channel? Not too close to the harbor, but around this side of the islands so that I might see her off?"

"I suppose I could do that," she replied as she took a few steps back towards the Joneses so she wouldn't have to shout. "I would have to uncloak the ship though."

"For a few minutes, revealing the vessel should be fine. This far from shore, she may appear as merely an illusion to anyone who may catch sight of her," he offered, eager to garner even a momentary glimpse of his ship nearly a week after he'd left her abandoned offshore.

"I'll see what I can do. You may want to hang around the harbor for a while though," the Sea Witch suggested.

"Any idea of approximately how long it'll take?" Emma questioned. "We do still have the drive back to Storybrooke ahead of us."

"Give me an hour," Ursula stated, not waiting for Killian to offer his thanks as she departed without another word.

As they watched the Sea Witch vanish behind a pier, Killian dropped his weary body onto the bench before he collapsed.

"Guess we have a little bit of time to kill before we hit the road then," Emma chuckled before noticing the forlorn cast to his gaze when he stared out over the bay. "I know you'd rather be sailing the Jolly Roger back home yourself…"

"It's alright, Swan," he said with a faint sigh of disappointment. "In my current condition, I'm well aware that I lack the necessary strength and stamina to properly man the helm. I'd much rather that she be safely returned to port, even if not by my hand." She could hear the disparaging tone of his voice and decided to think of something to distract him.

"Well, I really don't want to sit here on a cold, hard park bench for an hour while we wait for your ship to appear. Can we go grab a doughnut or something? And how do you intend to see the ship from across the bay anyway?"

"I believe you have a set of of spyglasses – I believe you call them binoculars? Aren't they somewhere in the vehicle?"

"Uh, yeah, there's a set of binoculars somewhere in the back seat."

"Then those should be sufficient," he replied. "I do have to agree with you though that sitting here for an hour is probably not the best option. I know we aren't far from the ferry terminal so perhaps we might pay a visit to the shopkeeper? I'd like to let her know personally that I'm alright if it isn't too far out of the way?"

"I'm pretty sure it's only a few blocks down the harbor from here. I think Ms. Scott would be very happy to see you. Think you can handle the walk or would you prefer we drive?"

"I'm feeling far better today, but I still believe it would be more prudent to drive."

"Okay, then let's get back up to the Bug and we'll go see if Ms. Scott has the shop back open."

Ten minutes later, after the short walk back to the parking lot and a four block drive through busy weekend harbor traffic headed for the marina and ferry terminal, Emma parked her little yellow Volkswagen beneath the old service station overhang. Although there were lights on inside Scott's Mart, the Closed sign still hung in the window, but Emma noticed that it was now accompanied by a notice that the shop would be reopening Monday morning. Emma exited the car and strolled up to the entrance door, rapping forcefully on the glass to garner the proprietor's attention while Killian ambled slowly behind her.

"We're not open yet!" a female voice shouted from inside.

"Ms. Scott, it's Sheriff Emma Jones. I was here with Deputy McCallen a few days ago…" They heard some rustling from beyond the door and something akin to metal scraping against tile before the smiling face of Jean Scott popped up from behind the register counter. The shopkeeper's face lit up even more when she caught sight of the man in the black leather jacket standing behind Emma.

"Sheriff! My apologies for being so curt. Come on in!" Jean immediately unlocked the door and yanked it open for her guests, a mix of elation and gratitude expressed through her welcoming grin. "You're always welcome around here. Sorry it's still such a mess but I'm trying hard to get things straightened up and ready to get back to business. I know I owe you both a huge thanks. I heard from the other police officer – not the one who was here with you but the other guy… His name escapes me now…"

"Sgt. Haviland?" Emma offered.

"Haviland, yeah that's his name! He called me to let me know I didn't have to worry about Donovan Donleavy coming after my property any longer. He said there's a warrant out for his arrest, as soon as they can locate the slimy son of a bitch."

"Yeah, unfortunately it looks like he might have been tipped off somehow and slipped away on his boat sometime last night after the Toliver brothers rolled on him for having hired them to intimidate you, not to mention the kidnapping and stabbing of my husband," Emma explained.

"Well, when they find him, I hope they lock him up and toss away that damned key!" Jean exclaimed before turning her head toward Killian with a softening demeanor. "And you – I'm so glad to get a chance to properly thank you. If I'd have had any idea what those bastards planned to do… I don't think there are enough words in the whole English language for me to express my thanks. You may have truly saved my life that morning and I'm still mortified to think that it nearly cost you yours. I knew Donleavy was scum, but I had no idea he'd actually stoop this low."

Emma though she detected a faint blush creeping across her husband's cheeks as Jean Scott thanked him, but he was trying hard not to let it show. "It was the right thing to do, Milady," Killian assured her. "Neither of us knew that their nefarious plans went so far beyond robbery. I certainly must have had some luck on my side that morning, but the important thing is that the guilty parties are being held accountable and won't be able to harm you any longer."

Jean's head lolled to the side as she caught Emma's attention with a cheeky grin. "Is he always like this?"

"Pretty much," Emma replied, sporting a broad smile of her own as she watched the tips of Killian's ears redden as he flushed with an uncharacteristic embarrassment.

"How do I find one like him?" Jean sighed. "I'd love to have my own little British knight in shining leather." Emma found her husband's blushing even more endearing as he tried to brush off the compliment, realizing it was part of why she loved this man so much. Sure, he could be a total ass sometimes, but when the sweet, old-fashioned, chivalrous side would surface, she'd fall head over heels in love all over again.

"I don't know if there's a clone of him out there somewhere, but if I find one, I'll send him your way," Emma laughed. "For now though, we've got to get going. Now that the case is solved, we're finally heading home."

"Well, please have a safe drive back to your hometown and remember that anytime you're here in Portland, please stop by. It'll be coffee on the house! In fact, if you'd like one for the road, I'm pretty sure the pot is still hot. I've gone through plenty myself while trying to get this place cleaned up but there's more than enough to share. Would you like some?"

"I would absolutely love some coffee," Emma replied graciously.

"As would I," Killian said with a smile.

"Hang on a sec…" Jean scurried down a partially stocked aisle to her coffee shop counter and disappeared behind it. She popped back up a few seconds later with two tall paper cups of steaming hot coffee. "Either of you take cream or sugar?"

"No thanks," Emma replied. "We both take it straight."

Jean made her way across the shop to hand over the coffee cups to her guests. "Here you go. Hope it's not too strong for you."

"I'm sure it will be fine," Killian replied as he accepted her offering. "This wasn't at all necessary, but thank you."

"Anytime," Jean insisted. "Any time at all. I won't keep you from your drive home but I really do appreciate you stopping by. I'm so glad to see that you're alright."

"Good luck with getting your business back on track," Emma said as she shook Jean's hand before departing. "Hopefully things will go better now that there isn't a greedy developer breathing down your neck."

"Oh, there will be another," Jean chuckled. "It never ends around here, but hey, I know I'm in the right place for now. I'll manage."

Emma and Killian said their farewells to Jean Scott and had just started their drive back to the park when Emma's phone started ringing. Seeing that it was McCallen calling, she gestured for Killian to answer and as he did, he pressed the speakerphone button so that they could both hear the conversation.

"Hey, McCallen," Emma answered. "Sorry we missed you this morning, but we locked up before we left."

"I'm the one who should be apologizing," McCallen's voice responded through the speaker. "I had to run into the station this morning to finish up paperwork relating to this case and I was worried I might miss you before you headed home."

"Well, you haven't missed us. We haven't left Portland yet," Emma informed their friend. "Killian wanted to see Jean Scott so she could see he was alright and now we're on our way to the harbor front park so that he can see his ship off. The crew sailing it back to Storybrooke for us offered to make a swing through the bay."

"Alright then, can you hang around the park for a few minutes? I've got some new information you'll want to hear, but I don't want to deliver it over the phone."

"Oh, don't worry, we'll be there for a while. We still have about half an hour to kill before the crew sets sail," Emma explained.

"Oh, good," McCallen replied. "I can be there in about twenty minutes. I'd really like a chance to see that ship too."

"You'll see just how magnificent she is," Killian said proudly.

"If you can see it at all," Emma countered. "The ship is going to be clear on the other side of the bay and I have no idea whether or not my binoculars will be strong enough… You two can figure that out though…"

"Okay," McCallen chuckled. "I'll see you in a few minutes."

The stroll down to the waterfront from the parking area took a little longer this time but Killian had insisted on heading to the furthest pier where they would have the least obstructed view of the bay. There was still one barrier island that partially obscured the horizon, but Killian was certain that they would be able to see enough of the channel to get a decent glimpse of the Jolly Roger. He was quite certain of the route his crew would take and that it would provide a brief window as the ship emerged from the far side of the landmass, before she headed out of the bay and into open ocean.

A visibly exhausted Killian dropped his fatigued body onto an unoccupied bench near the end of the pier as Emma's phone buzzed with a message from McCallen asking where he might find them. She typed back their location and half-expected to see the young deputy arrive in full uniform. She found herself a more than a little surprised to see him approaching dressed in casual attire after he spotted them and waved from the boardwalk.

As McCallen got closer, Emma thought about how this inexperienced deputy had become such a pillar of strength for her this week. He'd been so involved from the beginning, eager to help her out in any way he could and always trying to learn techniques to help himself grow as an investigator. McCallen still had a lot to learn and of course, had some physical obstacles to overcome, but Emma couldn't help to think about what Jean Scott had said about being in the right place and how it applied to the deputy as well. What had begun for him as a seemingly routine case to identify a John Doe had blossomed into a multi-jurisdictional investigation of a corrupt land developer. While McCallen's role in the Donleavy case may have been minor, the deputy's name was forever attached to the investigation and it would likely make a huge impact on his career.

"Hi!" the deputy greeted them once he was finally within earshot. "I haven't missed anything, have I?"

"Not at all," Killian assured their young friend as he lowered the binoculars. "I've not yet caught sight of her but it shouldn't be long now."

"Don't worry," Emma added. "You'll know the moment he sees it. It's all he's talked about all morning."

"So, this is kind of a big deal, huh?" McCallen asked with a crooked grin, almost as a tease.

"She's been a huge part of my life," Killian replied. "In fact, she was my life for a very long time, before I met Emma." He failed to notice the way McCallen glanced at Emma with a look that seemed to ask Is he kidding?

"I think that what Killian meant to say is that he spent many years working on that ship before we met. He puts a lot of effort into keeping it ship-shape. But yes – sometimes I swear he treats that ship like a person…"

"It's a good thing she's not able to hear you speak such blasphemy," Killian feigned offense as his wife laughed it off.

"See - I share my husband with a ship," Emma chuckled, shaking her head. "Anyway, I know you didn't come down here just to talk about Killian's ship. You said on the phone that you had some new information to share with us? Is it news about Donleavy?"

"Well, yes and no…" McCallen began as he took a seat on the bench next to Killian. "We got a call this morning from the RCMP…"

"RCMP?" Killian interrupted with a confused query as he didn't understand the reference.

"Royal Canadian Mounted Police," the deputy clarified. "Sorry, I should have been more specific."

"It's alright," Emma insisted. "We usually just refer to them as the Mounties." She'd explain the reference further for Killian when they were alone.

"Oh, okay," McCallen continued. "As I started to say earlier, we, well, technically Sgt. Haviland received a call from the Mounties this morning letting him know that Donleavy's boat was located. Appears that it ran aground along the coast of Nova Scotia and by all accounts, was pretty beat up. Unfortunately, they found no sign of Donleavy. Haviland forwarded me a copy of the report. Guess he thought you'd already be back home if he didn't get in touch with you yet."

"I haven't looked at my email all morning," Emma confessed. "If he sent something there, I probably won't read it until we do get home – especially if it isn't giving us any whereabouts of Donleavy himself. At least we have an idea of where he escaped to."

"I do recall saying that he wouldn't get very far by sea," Killian reminded them. "The seas would have been far too rough for his minuscule craft. Even a sailor as experienced as myself wouldn't have fared well in that storm."

"Yeah, Donleavy was probably thrown overboard somewhere between here and Canada, before his ship crashed onshore," Emma suggested.

"There's still a remote chance he survived so the Canadians are going to continue their search to see if he turns up. They weren't entirely convinced that he'd survived either, but they're not giving up the search yet."

"Serves him right, if I do say so myself," Killian said with an eyebrow raised playfully. He lifted the binoculars to his eyes to survey the bay once again, scanning the horizon for a glimpse of the Jolly Roger. He stood as he caught sight of a set of familiar masts and sails materializing from beyond the inner harbor islands. "Ah, there she is!" he exclaimed with a huge grin stretching across his lips. "Such a thing of beauty…"

"Alright – you know I'm dying to get a look at this ship I've been hearing about. I mean, you've got the rings, the tattoos, the skull and crossbones pendant – there's definitely some kind of pirate obsession there so should I be expecting a pirate ship too?" Killian gave him a slightly nervous smile and Emma was practically biting her tongue as they both began mentally scrambling for a plausible explanation for the fact that Killian did indeed have have a pirate ship, and a marvel of one at that.

"Of course," Killian said as he offered the binoculars to the deputy and pointed to a distant location across the bay. "If you look out there to the northeast, you'll see her riggings just beyond that island." McCallen raised the binoculars and pointed himself in the direction Killian had indicated, his jaw dropping the moment he spied the tall ship on the horizon. He didn't know a lot about classical ships - he wouldn't have known a schooner from a frigate or a galleon, but this vessel looked like it could have sailed straight out of any pirate movie he'd ever seen.

"Wow! That's really your ship? It's definitely not what I expected, but seriously – you can sail that all by yourself?" Killian had to chuckle at the deputy's excited rambling.

"Indeed, I can," Killian replied proudly.

"That is so cool!" McCallen gushed, unable to contain himself. "What did you name your ship?"

"The J-…" Killian started to reply Jolly Roger, but something made him stop and reconsider, responding with the vessel's original moniker instead. "Jewel of the Realm."

"That's a really great name," McCallen told him as he passed the binoculars back to his pirate friend. "How did you ever come to own a ship like that?"

"Killian repairs and restores these old ships to keep them seaworthy," Emma jumped in with the most logical explanation she could determine. "And if you haven't noticed, he's a bit obsessive about his job."

"History deserves to be preserved," Killian stated, going along with Emma's lead. "And what can I say – I immerse myself fully into my work."

"Well, by the looks of it, you're very skilled at what you do! How do you manage to find the time as a deputy?"

"Don't have as much time as I used to so sailing has become more of a hobby now, but if you're ever in Storybrooke, I'd be honored to give you the full tour and a run about the harbor."

"I just might take you up on that one day, but since I have a tendency to get seasick, just admiring her from the dock would probably be enough for me," the deputy admitted with an embarrassed chortle.

"Well, my friend, if you ever want to try for your sea legs, my offer shall stand," Killian laughed as he raised the binoculars one last time to see if the ship was still visible but it appeared as though Ursula had already reactivated the cloaking. "Appears as though she has sailed beyond our purview."

"Oh, sorry… I'm guessing you're hoping to get back home around the same time as the ship?" McCallen wondered, not wanting to impede their plans.

"Yeah, that's sort of the plan," Emma stated as she glanced at her watch. "We definitely should get on the road soon, but Aaron, we really want to thank you for everything – for your help with the investigation into what happened to Killian... for opening your home to us. You've done so much more than you ever needed to."

McCallen's cheeks flushed as he tried to figure out how to respond to her gratitude. "Honestly, not many people have put as much faith in me as you did. I'm grateful to you for including me when you could have brushed me off in favor of letting Sgt. Haviland take over. I'm glad you didn't."

"You've got the instinct," Emma assured him. "You're going to be a great investigator."

"I guess we'll have to see how far a man with an artificial foot can get," McCallen said sullenly.

"As far as a man with an artificial hand can get," Killian insisted. "And that's as far as you desire."

Epilogue

Saturday Afternoon – Storybrooke

It hadn't taken Killian more than a few seconds after they'd exited the interstate before the gloved, wooden hand was discarded to the back seat in favor of his preferred attachment. Captain Hook was back and on his way home. By the time they passed the Welcome to Storybrooke sign at the edge of town, he was certain he could already smell the marine air again and began to imagine the sound of crisp sails flapping in the wind.

They finally parked in front of the Sheriff station nearly two hours after they'd left the Portland harbor and Emma was eager to find some lunch to appease her growling stomach. Maybe as anxious for food as her husband was to get to the harbor.

"Are you really sure you don't want me to heal you?" she asked as they climbed out of the Bug.

"For the last time, Love, I'll be fine. Aside from a few aches and pains – and a bit of general tiredness, I'm honestly alright. I assure you, if I change my mind, I promise, I will let you know."

"Okay, okay… I'm gonna call the family and see if they want to meet over at Granny's for lunch. I'm sure they'll all be looking forward to seeing you."

"Sounds good, but allow me a few minutes first?" he implored.

"I know – you're heading down to the harbor. Want me to drive you over?"

Killian smiled and shook his head with a subtle No. "I think I'd like to walk."

"Alright. If you aren't back in thirty minutes, I'll come looking for you."

The quarter-mile stroll from the Sheriff station to the dock was normally a brisk, five-minute walk for him, but today, it took a few minutes longer and he was clutching his chest tightly as he reached the gangplank. He pressed on with stubborn determination, pushing himself up the ramp and onto the deck of his ship. Reaching the helm, he leaned his aching body into the wheel to catch his breath, fully aware that he was not alone.

"Returned, safe and sound, as promised," he heard Ursula's voice call out from below the quarterdeck.

"Aye, thank you for your assistance. I do appreciate all you've done for me."

"You are one lucky pirate. Although I suggest you try to stay away from sharp, pointy objects for a while. One of these days, your luck will run out…"

"I'll be sure to keep that in mind," Killian said with a half-hearted chuckle. "Am I also to thank you for last night's events?"

"Afraid I've no idea what you mean," Ursula replied with a feigned innocence.

"Of course not," he grinned, lifting a knowing eyebrow at the Sea Witch. "Pardon my error, Love. Guess I should make my way over to Granny's pretty soon. Emma will send out a search party if I don't make it back. Why don't you join us?"

"As pleasant as an afternoon eating greasy diner food with the Charming family sounds, I'm afraid I'll have to pass. But as for you, I'm serious – watch your back, pirate. One of these days, you'll find yourself in the wrong place at the wrong time and there won't be anybody around to save you."

He opened his mouth to reply, but she was already gone, leaving the words caught in the back of his throat. As much as he wanted to argue, Ursula was right. He belonged at Emma's side and that was honestly the only place he wanted to be.

Early Saturday morning – off the coast of Nova Scotia

It was late in the season for such a powerful Nor'easter and perhaps it was a foolhardy decision to be venturing out in such horrific weather but Donovan Donleavy preferred to take his chances upon the stormy seas rather than face the tempest that would be brewing at home if he hadn't run. He'd slipped out of the marina under cover of darkness before the authorities had descended. His sport fishing boat wasn't really designed for these conditions so he'd tried to remain as close to the coast as he could, but the howling winds and torrential rain kept blowing his battered craft further out to sea.

He was only a few miles off of the Canadian coast, estimating his position to be somewhere near the Province of Nova Scotia, but he was beginning to doubt he'd be able to reach a safe harbor. Rain lashed at the deck, making visibility near impossible as the ten to twelve foot swells pummeled the tiny boat. Donleavy clung to the wheel as long as he could until a towering, fifteen foot swell sent the vessel listing hard to starboard and it never recovered, capsizing in the cold waters of the North Atlantic.

He bobbed to the surface, struggling to keep his head above the waves as his arms flailed in futile attempt to grasp for anything that would keep him afloat. After a few minutes, he found his muscles tiring rapidly and he knew he wouldn't be able to tread water much longer. Of course, he still believed that drowning was far more dignified than the humiliation of watching his empire fall apart.

He was gradually giving in to the reality of a watery death when he felt something brush against his leg. Probably just a fish or a piece of debris from his boat he thought – until the offending object slithered its way up body and wrapped around his torso. While moments ago he'd conceded himself to drowning, suddenly Donleavy was in a panic as he recognized that he was being enveloped by a giant tentacle. He struggled only for a few moments, trying futilely to free himself as the tentacle constricted tighter - just before yanking him forcefully beneath the unforgiving waves.

#csmarchmadness #csff #cs ff #cs fanfic #The Right Place

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coldbrewfm · 6 years

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Lana’s Girl (A Larina Fanfic)

Relationship: Lana Del Rey/Marina and the Diamonds

Characters: Lana del Rey; Marina and the Diamonds

Rating: PG

Summary: Lana and Marina are enjoying their free time at the mall. Well, at least Lana was until workers started to flirt with her girlfriend.

A/N: I think this is my favorite story I wrote so far with our girls. It’s so good that I’m posting it by itself as oppose to putting it in the one shot collection.

Lana del Rey is a jealous, jealous, jealous girl. While enjoying her free time at the mall with her girlfriend, Marina Diamandis, she started to notice that many female associates were hitting on her girlfriend. The first couple of times, Lana let it slide. Maybe they were just fans of her’s, no big deal. However, it started to burn the American up when it was at every store they went to.

“Oh miss, you are so pretty.”

Marina would thank them politely.

They wouldn’t stop there. They would then continue, “You really are so gorgeous, I’m sure your boyfriend is incredibly lucky.”

“I don’t have a boyfriend.” Which is the truth, really, but they mistake that answer as one that means she is single.

The happiness in their voice was too obvious as they begin to flirt with her hardcore. Lana started to grit her teeth and started to pull on the hangers hard of the shirts she was looking at.

If it were men hitting her, she would still be vexed. However, men make it much more obvious that they are hitting on you. Marina would easily discern that right away. Women, on the other hand, are very subtle with their flirting and it can pass as compliments. This is what Lana despised the most.

Right now, she waits outside of Macy’s on a bench. When the couple was walking around in the store, no one really bothered them. The lights and music of the store were starting to get a bit too much for the American, so she wanted to leave soon.

However, Marina encouraged them to go to the perfume counter to smell some of them. Reluctantly, Lana agreed to it. They tried out different fragrances, giggling sweetly as they sprayed some and smell it off each other.

One of the workers at the counter came up to them and inquired, “Do you need help, ladies?” Lana started to shake her head, but Marina said she did.

The worker seemed pleased that Marina required assistance. “Of course! Anything for someone as beautiful as you.”

Maybe it was meant as a compliment, but in Lana’s muddled head she might as well propositioning Marina for sex.

“I’m gonna go outside,” Lana said, a bit hotly. The Brit nods, although she seemed very puzzled on the American’s sudden mood shift.

Bouncing her leg and scrolling through her instagram feed wasn’t enough of a distraction for Lana’s jealous mind. She feels very upset, tears pricking at her eyes. However, she tries to swallow it and keeps her eyes on silly videos her friends liked and shared.

Marina emerges ten minutes later with a shopping bag in hand. She was happy to see her girlfriend until she saw how bitter Lana looked, jiggling her leg quickly.

“Lana?” the Brit calls and the American looks up from her phone. When she sees it’s Marina, she turns off her phone, pockets it and stands up.

“Let’s go,” Lana says, tersely.

“Oh…okay.”

They walk to Lana’s car in silence; something unusual for them since they become super talkative when they are around one another. They drive down the street without speaking, the only sound that keeps it from being uncomfortably quiet is the radio tuned to a pop station.

Marina observes how tight Lana is gripping the wheel, how clenched her jaw is and how she keeps blinking quickly. This worries the Brit; Lana seems upset and that wasn’t the best condition to be in while driving a car.

“Lana, how are you feeling?”

The American replies, curtly, “Fine.”

“You seem upset,” Marina comments, “Tell me what’s wrong.”

At those words, tears start to spill from Lana’s eyes but she still lies through her teeth, “Nothing.”

A good eye roll is what Marina wants to do, but she knows it’s not best time to do so.

“Come on, let’s talk,” she encourages, “I don’t like seeing you like this.”

Lana clenches her jaw even tighter, but says nothing. Instead, she focuses on the road in front of her, effectively ignoring her girlfriend. This pisses Marina off; nevertheless she acknowledges snapping at Lana would close her off even more so she stays quiet for the rest of the ride home.

Miraculously, they make it home safe. However, when Lana shuts the car off, neither of them exit the car. The Brit carefully watches her girlfriend to see if she was going to start crying or do something else.

After a couple minutes of silence, Marina decides to break the ice. “I had a good day,” she notes positively, “What about you, L?”

“No,” Lana replies, her voice blurred with tears, “No, not at all.”

“Then tell me why, love. Is there something I did wrong?”

Fresh tears drip down the American’s cheek and she wipes them away with her hand. “No,” she mumbles, staring out the window instead of looking at Marina, “No, it’s not you.”

“Okay then, what is it?” Marina asks.

Lana’s eyes move from the window to her lap; she begins to play with the loose threads caused by the distressing of her jeans. After a second, she takes a deep breath, although tears and shudders plague it.

The Brit discerns this and says, “You don’t have to tell me right now if you don’t want to.” She touches Lana’s thigh in a comforting manner.

Marina half expects her girlfriend to push her hand aside and leave the car, but she is pleasantly surprised when Lana puts her hand on top of Marina’s and squeezes it.

And in one breath of air, Lana lets it all out: “All those workers were flirting with you today.” She pauses and then continues, “I didn’t like that.”

Marina nods. “Go on,” she encourages, giving her a small smile, “I’d like to hear more.”

Lana sniffs, “I got really jealous then I got really upset.” She wipes her face with the back of her other arm. “I got really upset when we were at the perfume counter and that woman called you pretty so I left.”

The Brit hums positively as she reaches into the pocket of her jacket to pull out some tissues. She offers some to her girlfriend who accepts them. Lana blows her nose pretty loud, which amuses Marina.

“How cute,” she comments with a smile, her tone light and friendly. Despite this, the American starts crying again.

At these fresh tears, Marina’s smile drop. “Oh, no, was that out of line? I take it back, your blowing is loud and atrocious.” Although she sounds serious, it was purely in jest, but Lana doesn’t laugh.

Instead, the American tells her girlfriend, “I don’t like them flirting with you.”

Marina removes her hand from Lana’s thigh to her gently stroking her bare arm. The perfect thing comes to mind to soothe her girlfriend.

“I understand that, but guess whose girl I am?”

Lana calms down for a moment when she hears this.

“I’m yours, hmm? I’m Lana’s girl, aren’t I?” She moves her fingers from Lana’s arm to her cheeks, tenderly brushing it.

“I’m no one else’s but yours,” Marina states with a sweet smile on her face.

Lana relaxes at Marina’s words, knowing they ring true in her heart and mind.

“No one else’s,” Lana confirms, voice thick, “You’re my girl.” She pulls Marina’s hand from her cheeks, only to kiss her fingers and then interlace them with her own.

It feels like the sky just cleared. Marina leans to give her girlfriend a kiss on the cheek.

“Do you want a laugh, L?” Marina asks and Lana nods. The American finally looks at her girlfriend instead of gazing at her lap; although her eyes were glossy and her cheeks red, she was in better spirits.

“The woman at the perfume counter asked me if I was getting something for a friend or a family member.” Marina takes a pause, simply for dramatic effect. “I said no… I’m getting something for my girlfriend.”

Lana perks up at this, watching Marina intently now.

“She looked a little confused. ‘Do you mean for one of your friends?’ she said, but I shook my head. ‘No, my girlfriend: a woman that I’m dating.’ ” She grins. “She looked surprised when I said that, but she still helped me out anyway.”

Lana nods and Marina finishes her story, “She asked me if you were my girlfriend. I said that you were and then she said—very happily, let me add—that you were very pretty and I must be very lucky to have you.”

At the end of the story, Lana feels tears prick at her eyes again and her jaw slacken.

“No, baby, please don’t cry. I want to show you what I got you.”

The American digs her palm of her free hand into one eye as if that would stop the tears in both eyes. “Sorry,” she mumbles, “Sorry, M. I wanna see it, what did you get me?”

Marina untangles her fingers from Lana’s to dig into the bag between her feet while her girlfriend looks on curiously. At last, she pulls out a glossy box with an interesting design on it.

She smiles as she hands it to Lana. “Here, love. When I smelt it I thought of you, instantly.” The American opens the box and pulls out the bottle; it is a crystal bottle with a clear fluid in it.

Marina’s voice is now a touch shy as she says, “I hope you like it. I know it’s not Chanel or anything, but we can take it back if you don’t like it.”

Lana sprays some out on to the wrist and then smells it. Although her perfume knowledge is extremely limited, she can notice that the perfume is very floral, like lavender and sage. However, it does smell a touch spicy too, as it fades a bit, something like sweet cinnamon sticks.

“Good?” inquires Marina and the American nods. The Brit looks relieved that her girlfriend liked it.

“Guess what the name of it is?”

Lana begins to look down at the bottle but Marina stops her by saying, “No, no don’t read it. Guess!”

“Mmm…Marina’s Diamonds?”

Marina grins. “Oh that would be brilliant! But I can’t let have anyone that can I? I would have to sue!”

Lana smiles and guesses again, “Maybe…Paradise?”

“Lana’s Paradise?”

The American shrugs. “Sure.”

Marina shakes her head. “Nope. Give up?”

“Yes.”

The Brit’s grin gets wider and she seemed excited to share what the true identity of the perfume was. “Your Girl! Perfect, right?” Lana smiles and nods, amused to see how excited her girlfriend got. “I’m happy you liked it.”

As she puts the bottle back into the box, Lana says, “I love it.” She takes a beat, and then adds, “I’m sorry for being so moody and crying so much.”

“You don’t have to apologize, love,” Marina says, “I would be upset if someone flirted with my girl, too.” She beams at her girlfriend, making Lana’s heart jump high.

“I’m Marina’s girl,” the American declares, her voice clear. She places her arm down on the armrest, palm up and her fingers spread out, just enough space for her girlfriend to interlace her fingers.

“And I’m Lana’s girl,” the Brit affirms, entwining her fingers with Lana’s.

#Larina #lana del rey #Lizzy Grant #marina and the diamonds #Marina Diamandis #fanfiction #Lana Del Rey/Marina and the Diamonds #this is nice and cute and gay

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jo-shanerome18 · 5 years

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Herculaneum & Pompei

17/05/2018: We left this early morning to walk to Roma termini, needing to catch the seven twenty Freccia Rossa to Naples, followed by the first available Circumvesuviana train to Pompei Scavi.

Jumping straight on the train, Cec questioned whether we were on the correct one. "Yes" was Jo's reply, pointing out the board informing travelers of the final destination, Napoli. Then the thought crossed Jo's mind, "why did we have reserved seats when there were no seat numbers?" Shane got off and looked at the info board back in the main part of the station. Damn, Cecilia was right! We were on the regional train to Naples not the fast train. It was a mad dash to get off the train and scurry the seven platforms to get on the correct train. Apart from the big money difference there was a huge time difference between the two trains, one hour compared to three hours! Thankfully we made the change of trains with five minutes to spare, sat back in somewhat more comfort and speed than the regional train and enjoyed the ride.

Our fastest trip in Italy. Made it to 300

The arrival of the train at Napoli Centrale was smooth and on time, an hour and five minutes after departure. Following the signs to Garibaldi Station where the rattlers would take us south caused some confusion but after a short delay we found the ticket booth. Five return tickets and we were heading down to the platform. There were only two trains that travelled in the direction of Pompei, the first was to Sarno, which veered left at Barra and went around the eastern side of Vesuvius and the second, which was ours, to Sorrento. The trip was a half hour long and was pretty packed. Standing room only. There were plenty of locals getting on and off each stop which made it awkward at times standing in the carriage entrance. We managed, and by around ten o'clock joined the queue for tickets and audio guides at Pompei. The rest was easy.

We estimated that we could see what we wanted by two, an hour back to Herculaneum, an hour there and back to Napoli Centrale. This would give us plenty of time to catch the seven o'clock train back to Rome.

Entry point to the ruins

Located on a plateau of Vesuvian lava flow and overlooking the valley of the River Sarno, the ancient city of Pompei, dating back many centuries B.C., thrived from the produce of the fertile plains that are today part of the Campania region. During Samnite rule that commenced during the late fifth century B.C., Pompei was highly urbanised, refortified and dependant on Nocera, the largest city in the area. The movement of the Samnites unsettled political order resulting in Rome intervening in southern Italy, with military campaigns during the Social War leading to Roman dominance over the entire region. A few hundred years on and after becoming an ally of the Roman res publica, Pompei along with other Italic communities rebelled, demanding equity with Rome regarding social and political equality. This resulted in Lucius Cornelius Sulla and his centurions besieging the joint, forcing Pompei's surrender and subsequent creation of a colony by the name of Cornelia Veneria Pompeianorum. Once founded, Roman money moved in with private and public building popping up everywhere, embellished over the following decades under the rule of Augustus and Tiberius.

This all come unstuck a few years after the rule of Tiberius, when a violent earthquake smashed the city up, creating work for the locals for a number of years to come. With the reconstruction work still under way and seventeen years after the earthquake, Vesuvius erupted in 79 A.D. It put an end to it all, covering Pompei under a thick layer of volcanic ash and lapilli. Although the city was rediscovered toward the end of the sixteenth century, excavations didn't get underway until the mid eighteenth century and continues today with around forty nine of the sixty six hectares having been excavated. A century later for the purposes of study, identification and mapping, Pompei was divided into regions or neighbourhoods, and insulae or blocks. Where the names of building owner were unknown the excavators would name the buildings after whatever was found there or such.

First view of Pompei, Porta Marina on the right

The first stop was up the path to the left, initially wanting to see the baths at the start but they were closed. It would be interesting to know the damage that was done during the 62 A.D. earthquake as most of the damage repair was still underway some seventeen years after. Vesuvius didn't do as much damage as we thought. It was still total mess though. A lot must have been cleaned up over the centuries as there was not a lot of rubbish lying around. Just what was left standing.

Almost immediately, Tom and Beau headed off ahead as they were quicker and wanted to do their own thing. The rest of us stuck together, for a while anyway. After we entered and exited Porta Marina, we noticed that the ruins of the Casa di Romolo e Remo and their neighbours, Casa di Trittolemo were still there, as they had been for millennia, so we had a look from a few angles and listened to the audio. More of a story to tell with a bit of history. It put a perspective on what it was all about.

Ruins heading up Via Marina

At the top of the path, a gate to our right led us off of Via Marina into Regio VIII (The Sacred City is the Profane City), and into a mostly cleared but interesting area, the Temple of Venus, which was being dug up ever so slowly as we watched. This place was totally ruined during the earthquake of sixty two and was probably in the process of reconstruction when Vesuvius erupted. Further inconveniences were encountered when the site was bombed a couple of times during WW2. Only ruins and foundations remain as most of the stone was removed and redeployed on other projects over time. The statue in the centre was what was still left of an artistic exhibition a few years ago.

Temple of Venus (REGIO VIII - INSULA I). Statue by recently deceased Polish artist Igor Mitoraj from his 2016 Pompei exhibition amongst the Temple of Venus ruins. Archaeologists slowly toiling away. Excavated in 1852, 1869, 1872, 1898, 1937, 1952 and 1984.

Returning whence we came, Via Marina took us to the Forum and to the Basilica. This area was under scaffold last time we were there and fenced off. This time there was better luck to be had as there was freedom to roam around. Quite impressive. The elevated stage was where judges sat dealing out punishment for the locals. Apparently, it was for their own protection, it protected them from those who were not happy. Much work has been undertaken to reconstruct what must have been. The bits that fell to the ground (and not pilfered of reused) all those years ago must have been laying on the ground where they collapsed and put back up.

Pompei Basilica prior to 1875 (PompeiiinPictures)

Basilica remnants today (REGIO VIII - INSULA I). What's left of the most sumptuous building of the Forum, used for business and for the administration of justice. Dating back to between 130 to 120 B.C., the basilica represents one of the oldest examples of this type of building in the entire Roman world. Date of excavation: 1806; 1813; 1820; 1928; 1942; 1950

Following further group separation and heading toward an area that had not been seen before, rather than going over the same stuff, the southern side was the go. On our last trip three years ago, much of the area overlooking the Sarno Valley was fenced off for safety reasons. The area has since been refurbished, if that's the correct word and made accessible. Impressive villas of the wealthy and some great mosaics were scattered throughout Region VIII. Facing Vicolo della Regina and built right on the edge of the hill, the location had great views overlooking the Sarno Valley to a distant Sorrento. Not all were open but some were. It seemed that there was not enough staff to man every exhibit so they opened them to a programme. Some were shut, some were open, but they all seemed to be open at some stage during the day if not being refurbished. Vicolo di Championnet was wedged between the southern walls of the Basilica and houses of the once wealthy. The House of Championnet was one such house and evidently one of the most sumptuous homes in the city. No much remains but they're protecting what is. The ruins extend at least four levels sloping scenically towards the sea. Vicolo di Championnet extended from the Sanctuary of Venus through to the southern end of the Forum and the municipal buildings. To turn right into the much wider Via delle Scuole and the inaccessible House of the Geometric Mosaics led to Vicolo della Regina and the similarly inaccessible gymnasium, Palestra dei Luvenes.

Scale model of Campania Regio VIII. House of Championnet to the bottom left, House of the Geometric Mosaics directly under the white label and Palestra dei Luvenes around the corner toward the top

The locked entrance to Palestra dei Luvenes (REGIO VIII - INSULA II). The gymnasium is located on Vicolo della Regina with an impressive floor mosaic in the entrance hallway, which depicts a fighting scene with two bare fisted athletes facing each other. The frescos on the walls portray athletes, wrestlers, a jumper with dumb bells, and the competition judge, known as the Ludi Magister, carrying a sash for the winner. Excavation date: 1887, 1928

Sticking to the southern fringes, Vicolo della Regina took a slight dog leg at the end of Vicolo dei Dodici Dei and continued down to the Triangular Forum and Samnite Palaestra to the left and the Sanctuary of Athena and Hercules and Doric Temples to the right. Beyond both were the two amphitheatres, imaginatively called the large one and the small one (Odeon). The Romans called the Odeon, the theatrum tectum and dedicated it to the most popular theatrical genre at the time, miming. Musical performances and singing were also popular. The large theatre put on comedies and tragedies of Greek-Roman tradition. It was also first of the large public building where the volcanic ash from the eruption was completely removed. It was probably never totally covered so an obvious starting point for excavators.

Vicolo della Regina

Teatro Grande pre 1870 (PompeiiinPictures)

Teatro Piccolo marked the eastern most point of Regio VIII. On the opposite side of Via Stabiana, Regio I (The City Commercial) commenced. Continuing on with the "wandering" through the alleyways, the next place to drop in on was House of the Ephebe, so named after a bronze statuette of Ephebus was found inside. Evidently, a wine merchant named Publius Cornelius Tages was the owner of the place.

Just around the corner and across from some seriously scaffolded buildings was a Thermopolium or small takeaway joint and further on, almost at the vineyards and the eastern limits of Pompei was the House of Venus in the Shell, fronting Via dell'Abbondanza but also on a side street, Vicolo della Venere. By crossing Via di Nocera, Regio I was left behind and Regio II (The City into the Green) was ahead.

The House and Thermopolium of Vetutius Placidus (REGIO I - INSULA VIII). This dude owned a property on the corner of Via dell’Abbondanza and a side lane unnamed, and sold drinks and hot food, stored in large jars and placed in the highly decorated stone counter. The well maintained news stand at the rear held a lararium to the protectors of the household, Mercury (god of trade), Dionysus (god of wine) and Genius (protector of the owner). Three kilos of silver coins (about 585 sesterces) were found in one of the jars, maybe hidden by the owner until the eruption calmed down. 89 thermopolia have been excavated so far. Date of excavation: 1912; 1939

The garden of the House of Venus in the Shell on Via dell'Abbondanza (REGIO II - INSULA III). The beautiful garden in the centre of this villa is the focal point around which the house was built, perystylium surrounding the garden. The back wall of the peristylium is decorated with a spectacular fresco with Venus, which gives the house its name. On the lower part, a luxurious garden is depicted over a barrier with exotic plants and animals. The upper part of the wall is divided into three panels with different scenes, to the right, a fountain that birds drink from and to the left, a statue of Mars with a spear and shield on a pedestal. In the centre, two cherubs accompany Venus, protectress of Pompei and the erotic sphere, lying in a large shell. The house belonged to a branch of the family of the Satrii, very prominent in the last few years of the city. Date of excavation: 1933-1935; 1951-1953

Mars and Venus in the Shell

Keeping half an eye on the time, which wasn't easy since Shane didn't have a watch, the next area was across town rather than straight back toward the Forum. There was still well over an hour to go but with half of the ruins yet to see. Via dell'Abbondanza was chockers with people, many of them kids in school groups ranging from small, up to teenagers. They overwhelmed everything that they went near, making the place claustrophobic. This made the change of direction an easy choice, back to Via Stabiana and in turn Via dei Vesuvio, taking notice of the renovation work at the Terme Centrali, the central baths that were the largest in Pompei, covering an entire block of the ninth insulae and still under construction when Vesuvius erupted.

A block further on and across the street was the House of the Golden Cupids. Well worth a look. From there it was through the non existent Porta Vesuvio and onto a small mausoleum outside of the city walls. Necropoli di Porta Vesuvio held four tombs, most notably that of magistrate Caius Vestorius Priscus, dated to 75-76 AD. A small rise adjacent afforded elevated views across Pompei allowing for a look back at progress that had been made thus far and an appreciation of the city layout from the northern edge. Excavated Pompei to the right and paddocks to the left.

Excavated to the right (REGIO V, INSULA I), unexcavated to the left

Terme Centrali (REGIO IX, INSULA IV). The eruption preserved the baths in an incomplete state but the ambition and intention of the architect is apparent from the façade overlooking the courtyard. The bathing rooms are more spacious and brighter than anything else around. Date of excavation: 1817; 1836; 1877-1878

House of the Golden Cupids (REGIO VI - INSULA XVI). Located on Via dei Vesuvio, this house represents one of the most elegant of the Imperial era. The building is set around the spectacular peristylium with an equally spectacular garden. Named after the Cupids engraved on two gold medallions that decorate a cubicle of the portico, graffiti and a seal ring indicate the owner as Gnaeus Poppaeus Habitus, a relative of Poppea Sabina, Nero's second wife. Date of excavation: 1903-1905

Time must have been getting on. Without a watch, Shane had been prying over peoples' shoulders to keep an eye on the time. Someone's watch said one o'clock so it was off to the brothel, right back in Vicolo del Lupanare, Regio VII, Insula XII. Vicolo dei Vetti was the street chosen for the return trip, starting off at Porta Vesuvio and running next to, but not parallel to Via dei Vesuvio. As luck would have it, directly behind the House of the Golden Cupids was another interesting one, the House of Vettii. Mistaken initially for possibly a brothel due to the paintings and statues with big dicks adorning the place, it ended up being the home of a couple of rich bastards, maybe full of their own self importance.

What's the heaviest? Priapus' bag of coins or his hanging member. Good health is worth its weight in gold. The House of the Vettii (REGIO VI - INSULA XV), belonged to the brothers Aulus Vettius Restitutus and Aulus Vettius Conviva libert, wealthy traders whom had the god of prosperity, Priapus, painted to the right of the door within the vestibule. Graffiti at the entrance of the house indicates that the prostitute, Eutychus, who was a slave offering herself for two Asses, carried out her affairs in the adjacent room, decorated with a number of erotic paintings. Date of excavation: 1894-1895.

Time was certainly getting on and the brothel was getting no closer. The dead end at the end of the street forced a left turn into Via della Fortuna and next right into Vicolo Storto. A further barrier at Via degli Augustali forced a right turn. No planning went into the trip and it was showing. On the right path, the next turn should have been Vicolo del Lupinare, the brothel street and it was however there were temporary barriers in place again forcing a detour. And what a detour it was, with Vicolo di Eumachia blocked off, the next street was right back to and across the Forum, and then back down Via dell’Abbondanza. It added heaps of time on to the journey. What one will go to visit a brothel. Anyhow, we had the kids last time and didn't know what to expect so weren't too disappointed when we missed out. Not this time though. Not knowing that lupanare was brothel made the building identification more difficult than it should have been but it worked out in the end. Interesting but quite bland. A few small, bawdy frescos on the walls and a half dozen tiny rooms with stone beds. The building was quite small so there was a small queue trying to get in. Once in, it only took a few minutes to look and then it was off back to Jo and Cec around the kiosk. It was time to head off.

Bed in the Lupanare (REGIO VII - INSULA XII). For those who like it firm. The five bottom floor rooms with built in beds were located on both sides of the corridor that connected the two entrances to the knocking shop on the corner of Vicolo del Lupanare and Vicolo del Balcone Pensile. The prostitutes were largely Greek and Orientals who earned between two and eight asses per root. (One ass bought a glass of wine). They and the brothel owner lived upstairs. Date of excavation: 1862

The reunion went pretty well. We all turned up in the right place, except for the boys, and the right time. Regrouping, we headed back to the front gates, past the Temple of Giove, back through the Forum and out the front gates, handing in our handsets as were exited.

Upon leaving Jo phoned Tom and Beau and found they were in a bar at the other end of the site. They left straight away and ended up meeting at the train station. They told us that afterward that they were finished and looked for pizza down the bottom end of Pompei with the restaurant spruikers shouting across the road for business. In the end the one they chose walked to the middle of the road and stopped traffic in both directions so that they could buy their food off of him. It ended up a pretty ordinary pizza anyway.

Granai del Foro (REGIO VII - INSULA VII). The granary stretched along the western side of the Forum with eight openings separated by brick pillars and were used as for the fruit and vegetable market (Forum Holitorium). These days some nine thousand artefacts, the most important archaeological pile of terracotta crockery that was used in the last decades of life of the city for the everyday activities are stored there. Date of excavation: 1816-1822

The timing for a train was a guess, we must have just missed one as it was probably a half an hour before one turned up and when it did, it whirred along the tracks, the electric motors propelling us along as if they were about to explode. They didn't and within twenty minutes we were getting off at Ercolano Scavi and walking down Via IV Novembre to the entrance to Herculaneum, the next ancient site that was destroyed by Vesuvius we were visiting for the day.

Entry to Herculaneum

As was the case with Pompei, Herculaneum was forced to survive under the sphere of Nocera until the Social War and the domination and municipalisation process that Rome imparted on all of central and southern Italy. The city was much closer to Vesuvius, also built on a volcanic plateau but also on a sheer cliff above the Bay of Naples. As with Pompei, the city underwent a construction renaissance during the Augustan period with many public buildings being built or done up. The earthquake of 62 A.D. shook the foundations of the city requiring repairs under Vespasian. The city is overall in much better condition than Pompei, mainly due to the pyroclastic flows that buried the place under an average of sixteen metres of volcanic rock that solidified, thus preserving the city in its original state and allowing organic artefacts as in plants, fabrics, furniture and timber boat parts to survive. The upper floors of some buildings also survived providing information of building size and construction techniques.

It is estimated that ancient Herculaneum covers an area of approximately twenty hectares, less than a third the size of Pompei however, only four and a half hectares have been excavated. Much of ancient Herculaneum lies beneath modern Herculaneum.

By the time we entered the site and walked halfway down the hill to the ticket sellers, Cec had had enough. Looking at the amount of walking ahead and the stairs and ramps involved in getting to the streets of the ruins, she decided to stay near the top and rest. We, on the other hand had an hour and a half to look around the best we could. We headed down to street level and again separated, only this time Jo and Shane stuck together.

House of Relief of Telephus. Apparently, along with House of the Gem next door, this joint belonged to M. Nonius Balbus and was the second largest in Herculaneum. Named after a relief depicting the myth of Telephus, son of the mythical founder of the city, Hercules, the house of three levels afforded scenic views down toward the marina. The house dates from the Augustan period and was remodelled after the earthquake of 62 A.D

School kids getting a lesson in one of the bath houses. The public baths were a big part of the Herculaneum lifestyle.

The Barrel Arches are vaulted rooms that provided the port warehouses and boat storage as well as supporting the terrace above. The rooms opened onto the beach and must have seemed a safe place for the three hundred odd souls that perished, many still lying in situ today. They apparently met their demise due to high temperatures created by the pyroclastic clouds reigning from above

The long ramp back to the top

The western sector of the South Terrace is a Sacred Area of varying rooms and two temples side by side, dedicated to Venus and four divinities

By four thirty we had had enough. Scaling the long path back to the entrance, picking up Cec and heading up to the station was laboured as we were all stuffed. Unlike Pompei, the train arrived as we hit the platform. We picked up all the time we lost at Pompei and more. The trip back to Naples was again cosy to say the least. So cosy in fact that Jo had an admirer in such close proximity that he was rubbing his so called manhood up against her. Her frotteur was certainly overly friendly. When she moved away he worked his way back next to her. It only stopped when she put her walking stick between them. It must have been her lucky day.

Arriving back at Garibaldi Station with plenty of time to spare allowed us to head straight for some tucker. We ended up near MacDonald's but found a place selling coffee, beer and pizza. We chose the pizza but afterward wished, regrettably, that we chose Maccas. The coffee was real good with a couple of sweets that we didn't recognise. Shane went back for another coffee but a different barista made it and was nowhere near as good. The food was crap.

Chip pizza for dinner. Yum

Vesuvius from Freccia Rossa

It was late when we arrived back at the apartment so we had a quiet one, a few downstairs and a genuine goodbye to the people that had made our time at La Biga so special.

Last night at La Biga with Giuseppe

Packing was a priority before bed as we were to be picked up by our driver at ten to head to Fiumicino Airport for the long trip home.

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jo-shaneparis18 · 5 years

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Travel to Venice

1/05/2019: We planned for ten o'clock departure to the airport. The plane was to fly out at ten to one and arrive in Venice at two thirty. We flew Air France of course, the second deadliest airline in the world. Earlier on, Shane took a walk a bit up L'Avenue des Champs-Élysées to get some photos with minimal traffic around. It was still a bit nerve racking trying to cross the road around Place de Concord. The cars seemed to come out of nowhere, from around bends and out of lane ways at what seemed excessive speed.

Roofscape from our apartment

Walking back, there was an interesting area to the left with an impressive column at its centre. Place Vendôme was at the end of Rue de Castiglione and the start of a popular shopping street, Rue de la Paix. Originally called Place des Conquêtes, Place Vendôme was set up as a monument to Louis XIV and the glory of his armies. The square today is surrounded entirely by hôtels particuliers and although once tenanted by fashionable and high end hotels as well as numerous famous designers, they are mostly gone with only a few remaining.

Napoleon's Column had a more interesting history. Originally, an oversized equestrian statue of the Sun King was erected in the centre of the square but only lasted until the revolution. During 1806, at the direction of Napoleon to celebrate his victory at Austerlitz, construction of the first column was commenced. Four years later and modelled after Trajan's Column in Rome, it was completed. A statue of Napoleon graced the top. Following the Bourbon Restoration, the statue was removed and melted down to partially contribute the bronze required for the statue of Henry IV on Pont Neuf. A couple more Napoleon statues have been placed at the top of the column over the years but the whole thing was brought down during the Paris Commune and re-erected a few years later after the commune's demise, another copy of Napoleon on top.

Napoleon finally toppled. 1871 (Wikipedia)

Napoleon's Column today

Although, with most of the packing done last night, there was still a bit to do, particularly with ensuring that all of the suitcases that were packed to spot on twenty three kilos and the rest carry on. We also had one more call to make, to the taxi driver who dropped us off a few days ago. No luck as it turned out. Through his daughter he apologised for not being able to take us. Not enough notice or his day off maybe. It was after all, May Day.

The decline wasn't too much of an issue, we were ahead of schedule and on the footpath well before ten where we immediately encountered a small Peugeot wagon out front. We needed another one that would carry three suitcases. A few minutes later, some sort of Volkswagen van drove passed. We hailed it, filled it with suitcases and women and Tom and sent it off to Charles de Gaul, Terminal 2. Beau and Shane took the other costing fifty-five euro each. The trip was quiet and non-eventful owing to the public holiday.

It was the May Day public holiday which had a tradition of violence in Paris with protest marches being the norm. During our journey Cecilia noticed small groups of individuals walking in the same direction in one of the outlying suburbs, and up to no good. Who knows what could have been brewing. We were in fact lucky as today was Tuesday so it ruled out the sometimes violent yellow vest protests that occurred on Saturdays and we were also lucky that the unions had a programme of industrial action that shut down the airports. They advertised in advance and today wasn’t part of it. The rest was yet to be seen.

Continuing on from the uneventful was the flight and boarding process, once we got past the stickers on bags bit at check-in. Through security, swiftly through duty free looking at the overpriced everything and down to the eating area which would leave Sydney for dead, although the prices reflected this. A point in case was Cecilia's thirty-nine-euro pikelet with salmon and caviar on sour cream. Tasted delicious but was only about four mouths full. There was plenty of ritzy food around but still plenty for the plebs. We were okay. A couple of hours waiting around, onto the boarding area, and onto the plane. Everything worked like a dream.

Nice looking tucker. If you can afford it

This flight was a budget short haul flight which was excellent. About the same distance from Newcastle to Melbourne yet they provided us with a small ham roll or vegetarian wrap with a drink. The wrap was delicious. Jetstar could learn a thing or two from Air France (except for the crashing bit).

Paris–Le Bourget Airport. Once Paris's No.1

Crossing the mostly obscured Swiss Alps, and probably Austrian and Italian Alps as well, and touching down at Marco Polo was also non eventful. The banking of the plane on approach to the airport showed the surrounding fields, townships and hamlets located on the outskirts of the airport and Venice Mestre on the mainland. Quite picturesque. After landing, the arrival protocol was pretty easy. We headed through the supposed immigration, picked up our bags from the carousel and walked down the long corridor walk to the water taxi station. We showed our tickets to old mate near the desk who promptly pointed us to another and in turn our taxi driver. It was after twenty past three before we got on the boat. It was nothing flash but roomy and comfortable and in no time flat we were cruising through the timber poles that marked the channel across Laguna Veneta toward Venice.

Initially, Cecilia wanted to have the “elite” experience which included being greeted at arrivals by a chauffeur holding a sign with our names. We were then to be transported, luggage and all in a golf buggy through the airport to a jetty with a super schmick timber speedboat alongside. We would then travel “George Clooney style” through the Grand Canal as he did at his wedding. Problem was that this was worth 130 Euro each and although she insisted on paying, we took the Jo Average taxi boat for 50 Euro for all of us.

Marco Polo water taxi rank

All packed and ready to go

The channel wasn't all that wide so a follow the leader approach was required, particularly with oncoming traffic. Although boats could pass if required, it would be squeezy and care required. We firstly passed the small battery island, Isola di Tessera on our left followed by the famous glass producing Murano. Then straight across the lagoon to the northern most,and second largest of the six Venetian sestieri, Cannaregio. Sacca Misericordia Marina was on our right and a well worn servo to our left as we entered rio di Noale on our way to the Grand Canal.

About to enter rio di Noale

Looking down Rio della Sensa

Edging our way amongst the floating barrage before us, we worked our way beneath the Rialto Bridge, were dropped off next to San Silvestro vaporetto stop, through Campo Silvestro and to our apartment. All an hour after we jumped in the taxi.

Approaching the Rialto Bridge

Congestion on the canal

After finding our building, the next challenge was to work out which door bell to ring on the panel. We worked it out and were buzzed into an impressive foyer, heading up the stairs to meet our hosts. Two youngens greeted us at the door. After a warm greeting they explained that they were brother and sister and were renting the apartment out in an attempt to keep it in their family. A common explanation that people with larger apartments in fantastic locations were telling us. Something sus, though Jo didn’t agree, seemed to be going on though as we surprised them when we knocked on the door and later found a pair of knickers that she may have left behind. It was apparently their grandmothers house but before granny some sort of commercial building in its previous life. Huge rooms and six metre high ceilings, and in a brilliant spot. One hundred metres from the Rialto and an old church, Chiesa San Silvestro, straight across from us.

Bedroom One

While we were all settling in and unpacking, the boys went to look for a shop for milk, juice and some basic supplies, and of course a supply of grog. Cecilia headed out for a walk, firstly to look through the church and secondly to find a nearby watering hole. While inside the church she paid one Euro and lit a candle in memory of her dad. The church was about to close and as Cec was saying a prayer, an old lady sweeping up and finishing off blew the candle out as she was leaving.

Cec didn't take long to look around the campo before stumbling across Vineria all'Amarone, a wine bar that were friendly and had an interesting menu. She returned for a rest before insisting that we all head along there for dinner. Seated by half past six, typical Italian tucker was the order of the day. A couple of pastas, diavola, lasagne and spaghetti al negro (in squids ink) was dished up by a very friendly and welcoming staff. One hundred and ninety one Euro later we were back at the apartment, playing Pass the Pigs and planning the next day.

Vineria all'Amarone

Two fat ladies

We may have dodged a bullet today with the Paris protests. After we had left the city violent protests resulted in over one hundred arrests.

Tomorrow we travel to Murano for some glass and Burano for a look, and some lace if we can find some non Chinese stuff.

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thegrandbunny · 4 years

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You’ll get to spend one minute in the artist’s newest “Infinity Mirrored Room” at David Zwirner in Chelsea. Expect dancing lights to infinity, or as far as your camera phone allows.

Kusama Arrives. Is It Worth Your Time to Wait in Line?

The Eiffel Tower or the Great Mosque of Mecca; the new iPhone or the latest Harry Potter book; Di Fara Pizza or that bakery that made Cronuts happen a few years back. For some experiences you just have to wait — and the exhibitions of Yayoi Kusama, the 90-year-old Japanese mastermind of obsessively dotted paintings, hallucinatory pumpkins and sometimes blandly decorative installations, have become the art world’s equivalent of Star Wars premieres.

Ignored for decades in New York and Tokyo, driven to madness, even plagiarized by less talented men, Ms. Kusama is enjoying a late and not unmerited surge in public visibility. (She even warrants her own balloon in this month’s Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade, alongside Pikachu, SpongeBob and the Elf on the Shelf.) She has become a brand — a process she has enjoyed and fully participated in — and drawn tens of thousands of fans worldwide to her “Infinity Mirrored Rooms,” which produce an infinite regress of colored reflections.

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The David Zwirner gallery, commendably, is treating “Yayoi Kusama: Every Day I Pray for Love,” which opens Saturday and runs through Dec. 14, like any other exhibition: free to the public. (It anticipates 100,000 visitors and promises to update the public on wait times via Twitter and Instagram.) If you want to see her newest “Infinity” room in New York, subtitled “Dancing Lights That Flew Up to the Universe,” prepare to wait up to two hours, and don’t expect to stay inside longer than a minute.

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Worth the wait? That depends on how much you value your time — and what you expect of art in the age of Instagram. The smartphone, with its ever-finer cameras and ever-shinier screens, now shapes our experience of art as thoroughly as the church did in 14th-century Italy or the unadorned, white-cube galleries did for midcentury abstract painters. Ms. Kusama’s art eases into the smartphone screen with stunning elegance, but troubling that screen is another matter.

No wait will be required to see the rest of the exhibition, which occupies two floors of the gallery’s 20th Street location. A compelling suite of 42 new paintings on the ground floor is most worth your time. These hot-colored, square-format paintings, hung on a single wall like a cryptic frieze, deploy Ms. Kusama’s own hermetic symbology of floating cells, bristling cilia, a calligraphic woman’s profile, and countless stippled dots.

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In the same large gallery is an icy sculpture installation, scattered around the floor like puddles after the rain. These repeated steel forms, aiming for what Ms. Kusama called “self-obliteration” in a 1968 film, feel like a welcome throwback to her earlier work in sculpture and installation. Certainly, it’s more challenging than the garden-ornament sculptures upstairs, some sporting smiley faces and all covered in dots: her most frequent self-obliteration motif, though one that too often becomes cute and tame.

Ms. Kusama first produced a mirrored installation in 1965, at the Castellane Gallery in New York, where she placed thousands of soft, polka-dot-studded phalli against reflective surfaces. In her newest “Infinity” room, a single, suspended globe of light illuminates the mirrored chamber, then a second, then a third, until the room becomes a constellation of lanterns with you at its nucleus. Then, in a flash, the white globes flash to red; you have a few seconds of colored light, and the room goes dark again.

It’s a beautiful effect. (Or it was for me, alone in the room; you’ll be sharing the experience with up to three other visitors at a time.) But you needn’t be Dr. Freud to diagnose that the narcissism of a new selfie-devoted public has canceled, utterly, the goals of self-obliteration that Ms. Kusama intends her infinite installations to achieve. The self cannot dissolve when the selfie is the goal.

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And the erotic or psychedelic excesses of Ms. Kusama’s early art are long gone, too. In her orgiastic “body festivals” of the 1960s, she encouraged audiences to slather one another with paint; now others must be cropped out of the cameraphone frame. Sex and drugs are nothing compared with the thrill of “likes.”

This is not necessarily to fault Ms. Kusama’s art for becoming more contemplative and isolating in her later years. But those lines outside confirm that the “Infinity” rooms have become perhaps the paradigmatic art of the cameraphone age, which has seen the interactive (or “relational”) art of the 1990s and early 2000s give way to art condemned to be treated as backdrops for photoshoots. Other examples include Chris Burden’s “Urban Light” outside the Los Angeles County Museum of Art, James Turrell’s “Aten Reign” at the Guggenheim in 2013, but also fun-house amusements that are the only sort of art, like the Rain Room, Random International’s 2013 immersive environment, or the fluorescent “art experiences” called Meow Wolf.

Keep your phone in your pocket, or pull it out and strike a pose. There’s no “wrong way” to see art. What concerns me, instead, is how artists respond to new conditions of seeing in an era of smartphones. Artists can respond by reflecting and distorting this new visual field, like the painters Jacqueline Humphries and Laura Owens. They can incorporate phones into their artistic project — like the brilliant Lithuanians behind the performance “Sun & Sea (Marina),” winner of this year’s Golden Lion at the Venice Biennale, who positioned their phone-wielding audience above the singers. They can shut them out entirely, like Tania Bruguera or Marina Abramovic … or, indeed, like Madonna.

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The project of the contemporary artist has to be to query and rumble this new visual regime, rather than to ease into the smartphone frame. Otherwise … well, last year I went to a bat mitzvah in Westchester that featured, in addition to the usual sushi station and party favors, a counterfeit Infinity Room with perfect lighting. It wasn’t a Kusama, but the selfies my boyfriend and I took looked fantastic.

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survival0001-blog · 5 years

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10 Amazing True Survival Stories Too Incredible To Be Real

New Post has been published on https://outdoorsurvivalqia.com/awesome/10-amazing-true-survival-stories-too-incredible-to-be-real/

10 Amazing True Survival Stories Too Incredible To Be Real

These true survival narratives will leave you in awe of the unbelievable human spirit and sheer will to survive whatever the odds.

RELATED: A Story of Personal Survival | Survival Lessons From The Field

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Ricky Megee Joe Simpson and Simon Yates Aron Ralston Mauro Prosperi Douglas Mawson Marina Chapman Amanda Berry, Gina DeJesus, and Michelle Knight Andes Plane Crash Survivors Sully Sullenberger and the Crew and Passengers of U.S. Airways Flight 1549 The Chilean Miners

True Survival Stories: Narratives of Surviving the Impossible

1. Ricky Megee

We’ve watched survival movies you wouldn’t suppose possible in real life until you come across well-documented true survival stories from random people.

In 2006, employees in a cattle station in one of the most remote the sectors of Australia came upon a man named Ricky Megee. He claimed to have been stranded in the Australian outback for 70 days.

Megee said the last thing he recollected was his vehicle breaking down during his cross-country drive. There is some speculation that he was the victim of a violent assault during which he was perhaps medication. When he gained consciousness, he realise his demise.

For over two months, Megee survived on only frogs, serpents, lizards, and the water he found in a nearby dam. He lost over half his body weight upon rescue.

Check out the Geo TV video below via AwKahoot to find out more about Ricky Megee’s survival narrative :P TAGEND

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2. Joe Simpson and Simon Yates

Together with Joe Simpson, Simon Yates climbed Siula Grande in 1985, via the hitherto unclimbed west face. On the descent, Simpson fell through a cornice, breaking his right leg and heel.

To continue descending, Yates then utilized ropes to lower Simpson down the mountain in stages. While descending in the night in bad weather, Yates lowered Simpson over an unseen cliff edge.

This meant that he was hanging over a deep fissure with only Simpson’s hold on the rope to prevent him falling. To avoid falling off the mountain himself, Yates cut the rope.

Simpson thus fell approximately 50 feet into the fissure. He survived the autumn, unbeknownst to Yates, who presumed he died.

Simpson managed to climb out of the crevasse and reached base camp four days later. Some mountaineers were very critical of Yates’ decision to cut the rope on his partner.

Yates argued that he could not rely upon an army of people to help since they were far on the mountain flank with a raging cyclone in progress.

Despite this decision, his rescue try contributed significantly to saving Simpson’s life. Simpson has always vehemently defended Yates, saying he would have done it himself given the same position.( via Wikipedia)

Watch Today’s interviews with Simpson and Yates below for their true survival narratives in this video by the World Expeditions :P TAGEND

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3. Aron Ralston

In 2003, a young climber named Aron Ralston set out to conquer Bluejohn Canyon in Utah. When an 800 -pound boulder changed, Ralston observed himself trapped against the canyon wall with his hand crushed under the boulder.

After six days of what he calls” sleep-deprived, meandering thinks ,” Ralston built the difficult decision to use his multitool to amputate his own limb and free himself. He then repelled to safety.

Ralston’s story inspired the movie 127 Hours. Learn more about his survival narrative in the video below by TLC via Sirtoppim :P TAGEND

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4. Mauro Prosperi

In 2014, an Italian athlete named Mauro Prosperi set out to complete the Marathon des Sables — a brutal six-day run in the Sahara desert. By day four, he was making good time in the race( he was in fourth place) and had begun to fall in love with the desert landscape.

Prosperi’s luck changed when he found himself in the middle of an eight-hour sandstorm that left him disoriented, lost, and alone.

With just a few furnishes and MREs on hand, and after trying and failing to catch the attention of two pas aircrafts, Prosperi survived for 10 days by drinking his own distilled urine and eating bats.

Learn more about his amazing survival tale by watching the video by 20 th Century Fox below :P TAGEND

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5. Douglas Mawson

Douglas Mawson is now an Australian hero due to his historic Antarctic exploration mission in the early 20 th century. According to Cracked.com :P TAGEND

On December 14, 1912, Mawson and his two colleagues, Belgrave Ninnis and Xavier Mertz, were returning to base after successfully not dying for a few days … when Ninnis fell into a fissure, dragging their sledge, their renders, and most of their puppies down with him. They were around 310 miles from home.

Eventually, Mertz died from cold and exhaustion, leaving Mawson to soldier on alone … Then, unbelievably( or perhaps entirely believably ), Mawson’s sledge get wedged in the snow.

He also fell into a crevasse, where he” dangled helplessly above the abyss, with his sledge behind him edging towards the lip .”

After pulling himself up from a frozen grave and surviving 32 days in the harshest environment on countries around the world, Mawson ultimately reached his hut.

He was then told that he would have to wait 10 more months in Antarctica. The ship meant to take him back home had sailed off only a few hours earlier, believing him dead.

Learn more about Mawson’s journey and survival in the video below by Today I Found Out :P TAGEND

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RELATED: Man Survives Yukon Winter in Camper Van

6. Marina Chapman

Of all the true survival stories here, Marina Chapman’s story might be the most unique and unbelievable. True survival narratives in the wilderness don’t get any more amazing than this.

Though there is some speculation that her survival tale may be untrue or embellished, Chapman states she was kidnapped from her Colombian village. At four years old, she was then abandoned in the jungle.

Unable to fend for herself, she began to follow a group of capuchin monkeys. She said, they “raised” her rescue by hunters around age 10.

During her time in the jungle, Chapman took shelter in trees and lived off of wild berries and bananas. After her rescue, Chapman says she was sold to a brothel and lived as a street urchin.

She was also enslaved by a mafia family before finally adopted around age 14.

Do you think her survival narrative is true? Check out the video by Buzz Sourse below :P TAGEND

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7. Amanda Berry, Gina DeJesus, and Michelle Knight

Between 2003 and 2004, Ariel Castro kidnapped these three young women in Cleveland. They expended the next ten years captive in his home.

They suffered harsh living conditions, starvation, and physical, psychological, and sexual abuse. One of them( Amanda Berry) was even impregnated by Castro and dedicated birth to a daughter during her captivity.

In 2013, Berry’s young daughter “ve noticed that” her father’s car was not in the driveway and alerted her mom. Acting fast, Berry grabbed the child and ran out into the street, crying for help.

She called 911 from a neighbor’s telephone, and the three women were finally rescued. These women’s story is a true evidence to how much a human being can withstand and just how strong the will to live is.

Watch this interview by BBC Newsnight with two of the kidnapping survivors below :P TAGEND

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8. Andes Plane Crash Survivors

Uruguayan Air Force Flight 571 was a chartered flight carrying 45 people, including a rugby union team. With them also were their friends, household, and associates.

The plane crashed in the Andes on 13 October 1972, in an incident known as the Andes flight disaster. In the Hispanic world and South America, it is also known as the Miracle in the Andes( El Milagro de los Andes ).

More than a quarter of the passengers died in the crash and several others rapidly succumbed to cold and injury. Of the 27 who were alive a few days after the accident, another eight died because of an avalanche that swept over their shelter in the wreckage.

Rescue came for the last 16 survivors on 23 December 1972, more than two months after the accident. The survivors had little food and no source of heat in the harsh conditions at over 3,600 metres( 11,800 ft) altitude.

Faced with starvation and radio news reports that search and rescue stopped, the survivors fed on the dead passengers preserved in the snow.

Rescuers did not learn of the survivors until 72 days after the crash when passengers Nando Parrado and Roberto Canessa, after a 10 -day trek across the Andes, discovered Chilean arriero Sergio Catalan.

He then, devoted them food and alerted the authorities to the existence of the other survivors.( via Wikipedia)

Watch this video documentary about the Andes Plane Crash by History Channel via ro7477 :P TAGEND

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9. Sully Sullenberger and the Crew and Passengers of U.S. Airways Flight 1549

On January 15, 2009, U.S. Airways flight 1549 took off from LaGuardia airport in New York, heading for Charlotte, North Carolina. After just a few minutes, the plane struck a flock of geese, causing both engines to fail.

In an act of gallantry, quick reasoning, and exceptional airmanship, the pilot, “Sully” Sullenberger alerted air traffic control that he would be landing the plane on the Hudson River.

And he did just that, saving the lives of his entire crew and all 150 passengers on board the plane.

Learn more about the historic flight in the video below by AIRBOYD :P TAGEND

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10. The Chilean Miners

The 2010 Copiapo mining accident, also known then as the” Chilean mining accident”, began in the afternoon of Thursday, 5 August 2010 as a significant cave-in at the distressed 121 -year-old San Jose copper-gold mine.

The interred humen, who became known as” Los 33″ (” The 33″ ), procured themselves trapped 700 meters( 2,300 ft) underground and about 5 kilometers( 3 mi) from the mine’s entrance via spiraling underground service ramps.

The mixed crew of experienced miners and technical support personnel, with less experience working underground, survived for a record 69 days deep underground before their rescue.( via Wikipedia)

The video below by CBS tells the astounding tale of the Chilean miners’ survival and rescue :P TAGEND

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It’s truly amazing what human beings are capable of under pressure. We don’t truly know what we’re able to withstand or how far we’re willing to go to survive until we’re in a situation where we don’t have a choice.

Do you have an inspiring #survival tale to share? Tell us about it use the hashtag #truesurvival!

— Survival Life (@ SurvivalLF) April 12, 2016

The truth is, most of us will never be in these kinds of survival situation, but it doesn’t mean we shouldn’t prepare. By learning from these inspirational tales of survival, we attain ourselves better survivalists. Try to learn some sea, dessert, or jungle survival abilities before you find yourself in a survival situation.

Do you have other unbelievable survival tales to share? Do share it with us in the comments segment below!

Up Next:

True Survival Tales: The Miracle In the Andes True Stories Of Survival: The Shackleton Antarctic Disaster 7 Military Disaster Survival Tips | Survival Life

Editor’s Deal: This is the newest blade, hand picked for our outdoor loving mob !

Editor’s Note: This post was originally published on June 28, 2018, and has been updated for quality and relevancy.

Read more: survivallife.com

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sailingbrisa · 6 years

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Friendly sharks, crocodiles, jaguars, whales... and incredible waves. Kiwis, Venezuelan and Cuban crew!

We had a few more guests. Mark VanAdelberg, one of the guys I used to work with at Red Bull showed up and scored a great week worth of waves with us. His surfing had improved a lot since the last time I saw him and he was loving the un-crowded waves and long rights. We had the place pretty much to ourselves again, at least early and late in the day…. Words really don’t express what it was like. Just seems a dream looking back at it now. I guess the two highlights with Mark onboard. 1/ he gets an amazing barrel and tons of great rides and then looses my go pro with all the footage on it as he wiped out in the beach break. OUCH! Second was a crocodile swimming through the lineup.. and not a little one. Everyone got out of the water pretty fast. Marks time came and went and again we found ourselves dropping of our guest in Playa Del Coco as he headed back to Panama.

The next week Elwin and I were on it .. alone again and again as good as it gets. Just the two of us surfing our asses off every day! Our next guests were very important people. Tania, my girlfriend, left her job at Red Bull and was becoming full time crew or should that read full time captain? OMG. Also, all the way from New Zealand I have the daughter and boyfriend of one of my closest family friends growing up, neither of whom I had met or really talked to before, but I was certain that they would be of the same grain as the rest of their awesome family!

Emma and Nick had already spent time living on a little boat, living and sailing around the east coast of NZ and now they were on a surf adventure through Central America after graduating college in NZ.

The 28th arrives and Elwin and I surfed the morning hard, motored back to Playa Del Coco ( about 18 miles ) and hit the supermarket, bumping into Emma and Nick at the beach. Strong kiwi accents and tanned young, happy people jumped aboard Brisa and filled the pantry and surfboard storage rooms to capacity. We waited a little while and Tania shows up from the Liberia airport and we had our reunion on the beach in front of the tourists.

Cummon Tani, lets go before that huge thunder storm gets us!

I have to take another second or two here and say that we are in the rainy season ( the Hurricane zone this time of year, is from 10.5 North lat) which is just literally 100 yards into the beach in Ollies Point Bay, but means for the most part we don’t have to worry about tropical storms or hurricanes, however almost daily there are massive, massive, localized thunder storms. It is hard to describe exactly what it is like to be sitting on a boat in the middle of one of these things and basically if you take a hit from lightening on a boat, all your electronics are possibly fried….We had met very few cruisers on this trip and the ones we did meet were basically stuck in a marina looking for spare parts after being hit by lightening…. SCARY.

We pulled anchor and zoomed off towards Ollies again at about 4pm, just in front of another MASSIVE thunderstorm. It is only 18 miles more or less up there, so we expected to pull into the bay as night fell. The storm was indeed impressive with fork lightening from cloud to cloud and to the ocean within two or three miles of us… we had full sail and both motors pushing us at 10 knots + and we were literally just in front of this thing the whole way. The darkness following us was ominous and the wind picked up in front of it to about 25 knots…however, as was often the case, we pulled into Ollie’s Bay just in front of the beast behind us and it was beautiful… calm and protected. We anchored, ate, repaired surfboards and went to bed nice and early in preparation for our big surf day.

The forecast looked awesome, however when we got there it was small. Maybe waist to shoulder in the biggest sets, but it was clean and offshore and nice shape, so we jumped on it. Nick and Emma getting tons of waves and Elwin and I praying for bigger sets! Even when its bad its good and we had a great time until the charter boats showed up. We pulled anchor on the dingy and went back to Brisa for breakfast and to see if Tania had woken up yet.

Emma was an amazing cook, banana pancakes, crispy pizza, smoothies etc. We felt spoiled to have her onboard with us. We passed the days hiking and looking for crocodiles… the only one we found swam past us and chassed Nick and Emma into the dingy one morning.. of course leaving Elwin and I alone to enjoy the sets… We both figuring that if we hadn’t been eaten after the hundreds of hours surfing there before, that we probably wouldn’t get chomped now… After half an hour or so Emma and nick came back. Hehehheheh.

We surfed a lot, even though it wasn’t as good as it gets, or really big enough to get off of my grovelers, but it was super fun. We had to go back to Playa Del Coco in the middle of the week to get our park passes and on the way back we saw humpback whales and they put on an amazing show for us. Baby whales jumping a couple of hundred yards away from the beach while big momma supervised and flapped her tail. We saw dolphins and tons of turtles ( most of them happily making love.. slowly, they are turtles ) and fortunately this time no thunder-storms racing us back. The next days passed pretty uneventfully with happy surfers, card games, great food and the odd animal passing by. One of the highlights was all the stingrays jumping just outside the surf… they looked like they were trying to learn to fly.. not too sure why the do that.. anyone have any ideas?

Tania and I went looking for crocodiles in the estuary one day… and found three sets of jaguar footprints on the beach.. very fresh footprints I might add and four new turtle nests laid overnight. Parrots squawked at us and I thought it would be a great idea to go look for the jaguars…so Tania walking a bit behind me just in case I did actually manage to find them and not too sure why, but she didn’t think it was such a good idea to go following them, at least not without an automatic weapon, an over watch and a garrison of Ollies troops, possibly with air support… Anyways, the tracks disappeared into the jungle by the beach. I did pick up a stick just in case they wanted to play fetch.. but eventually the jungle was too dense and we couldn’t chase them further. We pulled the dingy back into the water and went back to Brisa.

After four or five days of great, but small surf, we decided to head back to civilization, but not before visiting the rangers station and doing some snorkeling.

It was about an hour motor over and right when we anchored we saw what we thought were dolphins right by the boat. We jumped in Noisy Taco ( that’s the name of the dingy ) and zoomed over to them… but when we got there we discovered they were a bit too big for dolphins.. we are not too sure what they were, possibly pilot whales, but they were big and loved to play right by us and the dingy. Literally splashing us as the jumped and frolicked beside us. I wanted to go swim with them… but they looked a but hungry… I am a wuss!

Elwin, Nick and Emma went for a hike to the very top of the island.. a bit further than they thought it would be I think and on a very hot and humid day in bare feet…. I picked them up at the beach after with a cold jug of water and they looked very happy to see that as they lounged in the water by the beach.

Later we grabbed our snorkels and went around a little corner and jumped in to see what we could see. This area is heavily protected and fishing is not permitted at all, so needless to say there were tons and tons and tons of fish. We saw schools and schools of them.

I have big free diving flippers and was towing the dingy and Emma was swimming beside me about three feet to my left, both of us just in front of the dingy…. I looked over my shoulder to see how she is doing and I see a very large, very friendly nurse shark swimming right at her leg about 5 feet way…. I’m glad Emma didn’t see my eyes… she might have had a heart attack. I have swum with many sharks… played with some.. been terrified by a couple…. but I had never seen a nurse shark looking like it wanted to eat someone…. I grabbed her arm and pulled past her to push the shark away with my hand… the thing had to be at least 8 or 9 feet long and very round. It took off towards the shallows to munch on some poor little fish and I was stunned by both how close it was to Emma and how quickly it took off… incredibly fast!

I couldn’t believe it had been that close to us. I was wondering if it used us a camouflage to hunt the other fish, if it was just curious, or maybe it really was a bit hungry and thought Emma looked tasty and wanted to give Nick a run for his money. Anyways.. definitely woke me up very fast!!!! Glad to say we did not see him again. After I grabbed her, Emma launched into the dingy and stuck her masked face back in the water off the side. It took her about ten minutes to get back in the water… after which she was glued to my arm.

We made it back to Playa del Coco after a little stop off in Witches Rock. Anchored and fell fast asleep.

The following day Nick and Emma wanted to go paddle boarding. We loaded up the dingy and we left to drop them about 4 miles away at a beautiful beach. On the way there we nearly ran into a humpback and her calf. We stopped and they sat there about thirty feet away from the dingy and looked at us looking at them. The little one came right beside us, within ten feet or so and popped up to breathe scaring the daylights out of all of us I think. Nick got in the water with the gopro, but visibility was almost 0 so no good in the water photos. He then jumped on the paddleboard and got super close to them. We stayed with them for half an hour or so, right in the bay in about 40 feet of water. They were the friendliest most chilled whales I have seen yet.

We went to Zi for food that night and to watch Costa Rica win a football game against the USA. Was great food and very cold beer. We staggered back to Brisa tired little campers.

The next morning Emma and Nick were leaving. Nick back to NZ and Emma to meet her friends in Mexico to go diving. Elwin wanted to go up north to Mexico to look around and with absolutely no surf in the forecast on the way south… I think he made the right decision, jumping a bus to Puerto Escondido, where he promptly broke his favorite board in half. OHHH NOOOOO! And got some barrels so I guess it’s a payoff.

Next episode, Tania and I head back down the coast of Costa Rica to get ourselves back to Panama.

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plus-dementia · 7 years

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1st September

I woke up to a text from Zoe… saying she bought us both Paramore tickets for January!! She won’t let me pay her back. I told her she’s not allowed to give me another Christmas or birthday present ever again. I’m so lucky to be surrounded by the people I am. Mom is so much more comfortable today. She’s wide awake as soon as I get downstairs. A new set of nurses have arrived this morning. We’ll be seeing them every day, four times a day. They’re here to make sure she’s comfortable and doesn’t need changing or moving. The woman who’ll be with us every day is called Avril. She’s really funny. I get showered and bring my makeup downstairs. I sit with mom while I’m doing it. She watches me through my mirror. As I’m doing it two of the neighbours come round. They tell me and Anne-Marie how proud mom was of us. We’re told this constantly, even by people we don’t know. Aunty Mary and Gerardine arrive while the neighbours are still here. They leave shortly after. I think they know this is family time now. Aunty Mary and Gerardine have barely been in mom’s room two minutes when a nurse from St Mary’s hospice comes round. She’s here to get to know us and what our plans are incase we do have to end up getting mom a room with them. Me, dad and Anne-Marie go separately in to the living room with her. She asks us questions about mom before and all the way during dementia. She seems to really want to get to know our whole story and not just what she’ll be a part of. I don’t think we’ve had that from any one else over the past few weeks. It’s strange talking about mom at the start of dementia. We all seem to have noticed the change in her at different stages. It sounds like I noticed first. We spent the most time together at the time of her changing. Anne-Marie was at uni and dad worked longer hours then. As we’re talking the home phone starts ringing. I answer it. It’s Aunty Marion. She was taking nan to the doctors today to talk about her chemo. Nan has pancreatic cancer. She’s missed a few treatments because her blood or iron levels, I don’t know which, were too low. We’ve been trying to get her to eat more to help this, but the chemo makes her nauseous. Catch 22. Aunty Marion tells me the doctor has said nan has lost too much weight. She has to go on steroids for three weeks, and if that doesn’t work she can’t have chemo anymore. This is the only treatment option she can have. Another bit of bad news. What great timing. I tell her I’ll get dad to ring her back once the hospice nurse has left. When I walk back in the room, everyone knows something is wrong. We carry on our conversation and the hospice nurse comes through to meet mom. As she’s finishing writing her notes, Avril comes back, along with a district nurse. We leave the room to let them carry on sorting mom. Just as they all leave, I tell dad and Anne-Marie what Aunty Marion said. Dad looks exasperated. Like his day couldn’t get any worse. He speaks on the phone to Aunty Marion for a while. I don’t ask what they spoke about and he doesn’t tell me. They’re coming back to ours now though. We’ve been trying to keep Uncle Gez busy with odd jobs to help him find a new routine. His life used to revolve around our nan and her routine. When we lost her, it was almost perfect timing that he could transfer that on to mom. There’s going to be no one left for him to really care for once mom has gone, so I think everyone’s trying to prepare him slowly. Me and Anne-Marie mention to Aunty Gerardine that it might seem to him like we’re keeping him away from mom. We think it’s a good idea that he has one on one time with her today. After all, second to dad he was her main carer. Natalie and Marina arrive. We could lunch together. As we are, Nan and Aunty Marion arrive back. Nan looks a bit down, but no one mentions anything about earlier’s news. She’s offered food straight away and for once she accepts the offer. Me, Nat and Marina eat our lunch while everyone else looks through the photos they brought back from Nanny’s house. After we’ve finished, and most people have left for lunch, the three of us go and sit with mom. Nan, Anne-Marie and Aunty Marion are still looking at photos. Tash rings and asks why Aunty Marion didn’t tell her she was coming over again. She wanted to visit. Aunty Marion thought she didn’t, but she must have gotten mixed up with Clariece. She has to leave to go home anyway. As she stands up, mom wakes up for the first time since she’s been here. She seems to keep doing that with Aunty Marion. We joke how she’s being rude and ignoring her. When me, Nat and Maz are left alone, I put on some 80s music, as that was mom’s favourite. We decide to have a glass of wine while we’re talking. Mom is staring at our glasses even though she never really drank wine. Her drink was Baileys. She must be thirsty, so I give her some water off the sponges. After two goes, she doesn’t open her mouth, so I stop trying. She must be in pain. The nurses come again so we leave the room. I remember that Nat and Marina are the only people who’ve visited and not had a photo with mom. I mention it to them and they say they’d like to have one. We go back in and mom’s eyes are closed. I ask her to wake up and she half opens her right eye. I tell her we’ll only be two seconds. She opens both and as I go to take the photo she’s closed them again. For another few minutes we try and make her open them. She eventually does and I take the photos. As soon as my phone is brought down, they’re closed again. Just enough time for the photo and then done. I need to get an external hard drive for my phone and Nat needs to go shopping, so we all leave to go to town. We walk to the train station and our train is cancelled. The next one is in half an hour. We decide to wait. I start to worry because I only wanted to pop out the house for an hour. We walk round a few shops and I end up leaving about 2 hours in. They ask me to go for a drink but I want to get home to mom. And all I’ve eaten today was that small lunch we had earlier. I get to the train station and dad is supposed to be picking me up. He’s ten minutes late so I ring. He’s never late, so I worry something wrong. Everything is fine. Avril has come over and he lost track of time talking to her. When we get home, I’m looking for something to eat and notice Margaret has made us a cottage pie. That’s just what I needed. Home cooked food. Nan is sitting in the room with mom. For some strange reason, mom is watching football on the tv. She’s never liked football, but she must like the movement on the green screen. Even weirder, she’s managed to eat 3/4 of a mouse nan had brought in for herself. She hasn’t eaten that much in two weeks. She hasn’t eaten anything in two weeks. She seems to be defying the odds and constantly surprising us. Aunty Mary, Gerardine and Uncle Gez come back over after dinner. Mom is still wide awake and we’re all so surprised. She’s turned a bit nocturnal. Me and Aunty Gerardine and Anne-Marie and Aunty Mary joke that we’re on two teams now: the red heads and the brunettes. We all start taking the micky out of each other. If we laugh long enough, you almost forget what’s going on. Until mom is brought up in conversation. It’s sad knowing she’s in the room next door, probably gutted she can’t join in. She was always the centre of every conversation. Me and Aunty Gerardine go and sit in with mom. We start looking through the photo album from the day I was born. Mom is still so interested and observant with photos. You can see her eyes scanning through the people. She can definitely still recognise faces, as she looks at me when seeing my baby photos. I like to think we have an unspoken language now, where she looks at me when she wants me to skip to a new photo. Mom stares at me so much. Even if I don’t talk to her, I’ll look over and she’s still looking at me. I’d love to know what she’s thinking or would say to me if she could. As we’re looking through mom and dad’s wedding photos, Aunty Gerardine asks Uncle Gez who lots of people are. I think she already knows, so I wonder if it’s asking or testing him. Me and Aunty Gerardine leave, and Aunty Mary goes in. It’s nice to leave them together as brother and sisters. I can’t imagine going through something like this with Anne-Marie. They leave quite early to let us all sleep. Dad looks so tired today. As I go in to say goodnight to mom, I give her a kiss and she makes a noise while her mouth’s open. I ask her if she’s trying to speak to me, and a few seconds later she makes a louder and longer sound. That’s the first time I’ve heard a sound that isn’t coughing or choking from her in probably a year. I like to think she was trying to say something to me then. I just wonder what it was.

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theelectricfilmdiary · 7 years

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On the 13th of Jan we jetted our way into Lisbon, Portugal. Even on the plane flying in at dusk we could tell this place was going to be the tits. Our uber driver from the airport was really sweet and though he spoke little English, tried to point out local sites and main roads for us. We were basically speaking to each other through our phones, got pretty funny at some points, especially when he was trying to explain something to us and his phone kept translating what he was saying to “Mazda 3” haha. The people here are really warm and it has to be one of our favourite places so far; good people, great food and the city is fantastic. Perched right on the coast and surrounded by beaches which are just a short, cheap train ride away.

We arrived at our Hostel – Livin’ Lisbon. It seemed really cool, clean, in a big old building that looked recently done up, and was buzzing with all sorts. After being checked in our host escorted us to our room, a private double room with a massive bed and desk, drawers etc – right in the city for only 34aud a night including breakfast. Shared bathroom, but there were two on our small floor so no real issue there. The hostel even provide dinner each night for only 4 euro each. Pretty stoked at the value and quality of the place. We got settled into our room and headed out to grab a bite – Found a new burger joint just around the corner called Gutsy. Was ok, lets just say its no Burgerfuel… the “home-made” lemonade was pretty decent though.

Upon returning, showering and clambering into bed, we soon discovered the downside to our amazing accommodation; Right next door (somewhere) is a night club playing DOOF-DOOF til the small hours, AND the hallways of our level have polished wood floors with high ceilings and echo any footsteps or voices ten fold. At about 12:30am I’d had enough of the loud Americans in the hallway (who I might add had left their bedroom door open while they drank and shout-talked). …”ALEXAAA, ALEXAAA! OH MY GAAD ALEXAA WHAT REWM ARE YEW IN??? IM IN HERE TEWW!”… I was at the end of my patience with inconsiderate assholes and while I couldn’t do anything about the top 100 hits from 2005 going on next door, I sure as shit wasn’t going to tolerate loud conversation from the fools down the hall. I got up and told them politely to shut their door – I was actually pretty polite too, I don’t know if my face registered calm but they apologised and shut the door, appearing completely unaware of their noise level. An hour later I donned ear plugs and finally fell into a deep sleep…

14th Jan – Day one in Lisbon started with breakfast at the hostel, pancakes with Nutella, raspberry compote, and yoghurt plus muslie or toast – coffees wasnt bad either. Then out to explore. We had rounded the corner of the hostel down one of the many tight and tall little back streets when we came across an antique store and were told that there was a vintage market on the main street, Av. de Liberdade, a couple blocks away. Onward we marched until reaching said market, it was full of treasures – most we either couldn’t afford or couldn’t afford to carry home but purchases were made in the form of a great periperi from a foodie stall and a few other bits and pieces. Also had the experience of being told off by an old stall owner for picking up a perfume dispenser that looked like a vintage flip lighter… “if you don’t know what et es, do not touch et” before explaining what it was and clicking the button I was about to click myself – Cheers mate.

We continued further down the main street towards the harbourside, sucking in as much sunlight as possible on the way. Lisbon is stunning, full of century old buildings with brightly painted or tiled facades. The streets smell of the most mouth-watering food and there are a tonne of people trying to sell you weed, even cocaine! – but they were offering it all to Jim, I guess he’s got “that” look haha. We stopped at a bakery and bought a couple of treats, lemon curd doughnuts, custard tarts and this savoury scone roll type thing with pepperoni and cheese in the middle – oh my. Further down was the sunny waterfront at Cais das Colunas which was humming with tourists and a couple of street performers including a percussion band that were on point – complete with a hoolahoop-gypsy-hippy lady dancing in front.

Off through the back streets again, photographing dozens of pieces of street art and graffiti – its everywhere here but adds to the colour and beauty of the city. Soon STARVING we stopped in at a hole in the wall local restaurant for a late arvo lunch and ordered grilled sardines with potatoes and salad – pretty standard local style food where the fish is chargrilled. A small bowl of fresh olives, local beer and sangria topped the experience off. It had to be one of the tastiest meals we have eaten on this Europe trip, and so simple. All the food had so much flavour and the fish was so good! Definitely wanna try cooking like that back home. Dessert was interesting – mine was like a custard creme brûlée, and Jims could only be described as scrambled egg cake with coffee syrup haha. Kinda weird but we ate it all. After a couple of hours chatting and drinking, we left and walked up the hill (not a nice feeling when you’re full of fish, custard and sangria) and got to a look out point Miradouro da Graca at the Igreja e Convento da Graca Cathedral which was in the middle of a service so we couldn’t look around – but what we saw of the building was gorgeous. Then back up and over many hills and we were at the hostel a couple of hours later. Having booked in for the 4 euro dinner we enjoyed a plate of pasta later that evening before retiring to our room. Another dance music induced sleep, and we woke to the morning of the 15th January. This was another Stop The World day. Jim and I were exhausted. Our feet were bruised and sore and staying in bed for the day was luxury. There aren’t many times in your life when you will spend the entire day in bed – blissss. Jim went out to the supermarket round the corner that evening and we made burgers in the hostel kitchen, using some of that periperi we bought the day before… Perfect end to a perfect day of nothingness. The morning of the 16th, well rested we leapt (not really) out of bed and prepared for another day of exploration. Its bright and sunny here every day and way warmer than anywhere we have been so far – getting up to about 16 degrees during the day. Got to say the sunshine is sooo good after a couple of months of cold/rainy/overcast days. We joined our fellow hostel goers for breakfast and then left for the train station and Cascais beach. Three trains and 45 minutes later we were walking the stunning shore line and small cobbled streets of Cascais and wishing despite the cooler climate, that we had bought our beach gear with us for the day. The water is crystal clear and so many different shades of blue and turquoise it blows your mind.

Down at the small beach cove a sand artist – is that what they are called? Sand sculptor? I don’t know, anyway a guy was building these epic sand sculptures and castles. Jim chucked a coin into the well and the sculpture (of a guy holding his ding-a-ling) turned into a fountain and simulated him taking a pee into the well haha. Pretty cool. Our explorations took us further around the point, and being a monday in the middle of winter almost all restaurants/stores were closed. A couple of kilometers down there was a marina where we found a Portuguese tapas place and indulged in a multitude of delights; fresh clams with butter, garlic and parsley, prawns cooked much the same way but super crispy, mozzarella and tomato on toast with basil, olive oil and balsamic, Iberian ham (local cured ham which is only produced in spain and Portugal) on toast with red pepper pesto, great bread and olives again with a local beer and white wine – not sure what the drinks were called but they were delish too. We ate everything. It was too good to leave, including the buttery garlic gravy from the clams and prawns which we soaked up with the bread. Another bakery stop (or two) for custard tarts and we were feeling sorry for ourselves haha, too much of a good thing or in this case, many good things. The day was drawing to a close so on the train and home for the night. We were still so full that we didn’t eat dinner until 10pm and it was another home-made burger for Jim and a cheese toasty for me. The 17th of January, post hostel breakfast and chores were calling. We spent a couple of hours at Vem e Lava laundrette up the road where we soaked up the free wifi and I wrote most of this entry. The plan, to get the laundry done and then head off on the train to the ferry terminal to catch a ferry across the river/harbour to Cacilhas and then another bus and over to a beach called Costa da Caparica. The weather was perfect and the water extremely calm so the ferry trip of about 12-15mins was effortless. When we hopped off the boat we were in the port area of Cacilhas and there were a few outdoor seafood restaurants serving charcoal grilled fish, as well as Portuguese fish stews, paella and clams. We sat down and ordered up a bunch of food before Jim realised that he hadn’t grabbed any more cash after our laundry expenses that morning and we were left with 30 euros for the day! – This had to cover our bus and train tickets too. So Jim ran up to the waiter and apologetically cancelled our lunch. We had already received our drinks, bread, cheese (Portuguese sheeps milk cheese which is so yum and served at most restaurants as soon as you sit down) and a tasty plate of olives. So we sat and ate bread, cheese and olives and downed our wine and beer before apologising again. We paid 10 euros for the drinks and nibbles – I might add it was only 7 euros but we felt so bad and cheap that we tipped 3 euro haha.

On the way to the bus we saw in the distance a giant sailing ship and headed toward that to check it out. It was called Fragata D. Fernando II e Glória and is a rebuild of a ship that sunk in the Lisbon harbour. We had a walk through it and had some side-splitting moments from acting out the voices of the many freaky looking mannequins they had set up below deck… Good times.

Another bus ride (after wasting three euro’s buying the wrong tickets first time – good stuff eh) and we found ourselves at Costa da Caparica township. This place is a bit of a surf haven and after walking through the extremely tourist oriented township we made it to the beach where, despite the cold water and next to no surf, there were still a few guys out. Jim and I had packed our bathers knowing that the water was around 10 degrees but we both refused to come to Portugal and leave without swimming in the Atlantic Ocean. We stripped off and changed on the beach under our coats and towels before running into the freezing salty water. It was fecking cold BUT it was also really refreshing and afterward (once warm and dry) we felt completely revitalised. We wandered up the shore and watched a few fishing boats on their way in before strolling back through town and catching a bus to the ferry terminal – just in time too, we arrived a couple of seconds before they pulled the platform and left for Lisbon.

Night had fallen by the time we got home, so we quickly changed and left for dinner at a local joint round the corner down a back street. More bread, cheese and this time sardine pate – which we both loved, before mains of grilled fish (cant remember what type) and potatoes. The food was good, and we left pretty happy. That night we were kept awake again by noisy Italians in the room next to ours and the club next door. Fun fun.

The 18th was our last full day in gorgeous Portugal, and we spent in the town of Sintra, located about 45 minutes out of the city centre by train – towards the west coast. It was quite a bit colder there being a more mountainous region, but had warmed up by mid afternoon. The main attraction in Sintra is the medieval castle ruins Castelo Dos Mouros, which was built in the 9th century by the Moors (Muslims of Europe). We walked up about 100 floors of stairs and steep walkways to get to the top, and the 360 degree view of the area, including the ocean, inland towards the north, and Lisbon city. Beautiful. Also the walk was lined with lush green trees and plants, every single part of it was scenic. After reaching the summit of the castle, we walked right around the walls to each tower taking photos before starting our descent down the opposite side of the hill. We passed an old Tuscan style villa Vila Sassetti which has been restored and is maintained for tourists. The grounds and villa are stunning – romantic Tuscan style architecture with bright terracotta tiles all over the place. From there it was a short trek down through the old town area (full to the brim with over priced tourist targeted knick knacks and restaurants) – Jim and I decided to play it smart (so we thought) and walked further out of the tourist part and into the local areas. There was a restaurant called A Tasca do Manel which had decent ratings online and offered a 2 course lunch and a drink for 7.50 euros each. Sounds good right? We sat down and were told that the chicken curry option was all sold out so we would have to have squid stew. Trying to challenge our taste buds with local cuisine we boldly accepted.

BAD. MOVE.

The first course of lunch was squash and vege soup, which while a bit under seasoned and sweet was still edible. The next course, squid stew…. Joisus…. it was bad, sooooo salty and with a weird texture that made each mouthful a struggle. Plus the potatoes served on the side were way too salty as well – not as salty as the stew but not much of a reprieve either. I had to wash each mouthful down with beer and when I ran out of beer I gave up. We were one of the only tables in the restaurant (we had originally put this down to the 2:30pm time we sat down to eat but soon realised why it was empty). We followed the stew down with a semi burnt tasting espresso and then escaped as quickly as possible after paying. The whole train ride home we were burping up old salty squid…. delightful.

Once back in Lisbon city we went straight to the hostel and lay down for a while, still both feeling the effects of our scrumptious lunch. Dinner that night was plain bread… neither of us really felt up to proper food… :S

Later that evening, while scrolling the internet, Jim found there had been a few quakes about 20 miles from Rome, where we were heading the next day! We called our parents to “seek wise counsel” (say that out loud in a Texan accent) and had a decision to make, cancel our flight and stay in Lisbon another week til we fly home, or just say FUCK IT and go… we chose the latter.

The 19th sadly arrived. Time to leave Lisbon, we got up early, packed, and were out the door by 7am. An Uber arrived to collect us, and the driver got out to help us with our bags. While putting our bags in the boot, the car started rolling forward – he had forgotten the hand brake – Once in the car and on our way to the airport he consistently ran reds, turned on a dime, and flew over speed bumps. Radical.

Another round of airport security, of course Jim got stopped and checked, and we were on the runway leaving Lisbon bound for Rome, exhausted but excited…

Street art, Lisbon

Sintra street details

Squid stew…..

Cascais beaches

Costa da Caparica Beach

Path to Castelo Dos Mouros

Lisbon street details

Vila Sassetti

Cascais waterfront

Cacilhas port

Cascais streets

Rossio Square fountain, Lisbon

Chargrilled fish

Lisbon street details

Door details, Sintra

Ferry crossing to Cacilhas

Castelo Dos Mouros

Touristy knick knacks, Sintra

Cascais waterfront

Fragata D. Fernando II e Glória, Cacilhas

Cascais beach

Freaky mannequins in the Fragata D. Fernando II e Glória, Cacilhas

Gardens outside Vila Sassetti

Castelo Dos Mouros

Cascais beaches

Post lunch – Lisbon

Costa da Caparica Beach

Lunch in Cascais

Gardens on the way to Castelo Dos Mouros

Lemon curd delights

Costa da Caparica Beach

Gutsy burgers for dinner

Castelo Dos Mouros details

Cascais lunch

Arco da Rua Augusta, Lisbon

Gardens on the way to Castelo Dos Mouros

Cascais sand artist

Chargrilled Sardines, Lisbon

Cascais sand artist

Lisbon, Portugal On the 13th of Jan we jetted our way into Lisbon, Portugal. Even on the plane flying in at dusk we could tell this place was going to be the tits.

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