#bucket and sawhorse | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

theadventurerslog · 5 months

Text

The Curse of Monkey Island | Part 4

In which I finish recruiting my crew, find a map, and get a ship. Last time I recruited two crew members and it was time to work on the third, Haggis McMutton.

One area I somehow managed to forget in my general tour was the grassy knoll where both the banjo duel and the caber toss take place. Since that is where the caber toss is, it was time to... adjust the odds.

This area has the stacks of cabers and two rubber trees... one of which was a gift from their sister city. Aw, how sweet. And there's a keg of rum resting on a sawhorse.

This is a simple matter that isn't violent at all. Cut through the sawhorse with the serrated knife. The keg drops away leaving a trail of rum.

With 0 regard for safety, use the burning ember on the rum trail...

And kaboom! Guybrush jumps out of the way, seemingly off the cliff by appearances but he's fine--just comments that he needs to lay off the rum.

Importantly, this blows up one of the rubber trees--the gifted one of course because if you're gonna cause havoc, maximize it--and the rubber trunk lands on the pile of cabers. All prepped now!

I challenged McMutton again, and with a rubber tree trunk Guybrush can send that thing bouncing away a great distance, right off the screen even. That's a victory and we've proven his strength, at least as far McMutton is concerned. What's a little cheating between pirates, after all?

That's the crew complete!

But meanwhile...

We have pirate ship off the coast looting from the remnants of the battle and planning to bring their haul to King André at Skull Island. Everything was going well, until one of them hauls up some suspicious boots emitting green smoke.

He tossed them into the hold and then... well, everything goes badly as the hold ignites in flame.

And LeChuck's laughter can be heard. Dun dun duuuunh.

Nothing to worry about there. Back to peaceful Plunder Island with Guybrush.

I wasn't sure whether I wanted to work on getting the ship and Elaine next or the map. I decided on the map.

With the Brimstone Membership card I could wave it in the snoot boy, I mean, Cabana Boy's face to his horror.

Where any of my dialogue options led him to directing me to the far end of the beach.

You can head directly to the beach, but...

...the sand is too hot for Guybrush's hole-y shoes and he comes hopping, skipping, jumping, ow ow ouching back to the start.

There are a couple things to do at the entrance with the cabana boy:

scoop up three towels

dip said towels in the ice bucket

not necessary to do just yet, but for efficiency's sake we need the cooking oil, but the cabana boy is in the way

so slap him with a wet towel.

The Cabana Boy ran away. Now I had the cooking oil and wet towels, it was back to the beach where the towels can be laid across the sand and crossed.

Not for long though before they burst into flame. That is some hot hot sand.

Some summers I can sympathize.

Anyway, I arrived at the other side where Palido Domingo, Slappy Cromwell's agent, can be found with the knowledge of how to get to Blood Island. There's also a gate so the hot sand doesn't have to be crossed anymore.

You can

introduce yourself: he takes it as you being a waiter essentially and asks you to get him a new drink

ask him to join your crew: he's a talent agent--he doesn't do that work stuff

taunt him relentlessly about how pale he is--he's been tanning for months. So many taunts.

Guybrush's shit-eating grin when there are no more options.

and finally and most importantly you can ask him about directions to Blood Island.

Ultimately, he admits to having a map. He used to book all sorts of gigs there until the shipping lanes changed. So, because he was there so often he had the map tattooed to his back. He won't let us see it though as he's still tanning.

I needed him to flip over so I could see the map. He wanted a drink which meant it was time to go back to our good ol' swindling pal, Kenny with his lemonade, but now I have a bottomful mug... a bottomed mug? An intact mug. Trying to swap them gets Guybrush to distract Kenny with an old classic.

"Look! A three-headed monkey!"

It actually worked too, although Kenny wasn't impressed when he found out it was a lie. Then I bought some more lemonade in my new mug and got a drink 'as refreshing as morning dew.'

Kenny was even more put out. "You've put a budding young entrepreneur out of business!" He ran off leaving the now-empty pitcher for the taking.

I filled the pitcher with the red dye and went back to Palido. Put the bottomless mug back and pour him a 'drink', so the dye starts washing over him.

That led to Guybrush telling him that he's burning. Oh no, his 'tan' will peel right off after all those months. So he flipped over revealing the map.

It is a map too complicated to remember, and so presumably to copy, not that there's anything I could copy onto. I am sorry for the ickiness that is about to happen. Blame the game.

That map has to be acquired. The map itself. It was time for the cooking oil.

Pour the oil over his back, which causes him to get sunburned which causes the map to start peeling. How he sleeps through this, I have no idea. Best not to think too much about any of this. Because... it was time to peel off that map. Be glad I missed getting a screencap of the actual action--I had intended to but missed, but Guybrush speaks for us all after.

"I really wish I didn't have to do that."

So do I Guybrush! So do I! Every time I play this I wish I didn't have to do that.

Grossness aside, I had the map... on 'crackly crispy, skin.' <- that is indeed the description when examining it in the inventory.

On leaving the area, however, it was time for plot cut scene number 2.

Back on the pirate ship, the crew members seen previously are now skeletons. Then we see LeChuck reforming very dramatically.

Not just a zombie pirate anymore but a flaming demonic zombie pirate. He orders the crew to set sail for his stronghold on Monkey Island and once again reiterates his plot to marry Elaine.

"Ah, Elaine! 'Twill be a sweet day in hell when ya feel the fiery breath of my kiss on yer lips, and become my undead bride. And I'll destroy any man who dares to get in my way!!"

Back with Guybrush, my next step was to get to the pirate ship in Danjer Cove. I realized I forgot one last thing at the grassy hill because the boat on the shore still needs its hole patched up.

Hello blown up rubber tree. But there's still another rubber tree which I used my biscuit cutter on to get a rubber plug.

AND THEN, I realized I forgot to use the ventriloquism book on Palido and it was too late as he's asleep now. So, I saved where I was at, and thankfully had an autosave sitting at the lemonade stand, so I wouldn't have to redo much of anything. I have to use the book on everyone, you understand.

Guybrush starts to say something, but then Palido cuts in, immediately recognizing it as a ventriloquism act. I suppose as a talent agent he's seen plenty of things.

"That voice-throwing stuff was passé before Drake beat the Armada."

He may not have been impressed, but I still got my fun.

I reloaded my current save. It was time to go fix the boat by pasting up my rubber plug and jamming it into the boat hole. If I'm remembering correctly, you can just use the plug as is without paste in normal mode.

I sailed off to the ship.

You park alongside and there's a plank you can use to climb up onto the deck.

Very quickly the First Mate comes out. Hello, Mr. Fossey. You can try and fool him into thinking you should be there as the new ensign, or threaten him, but nothing really works. Then he keeps hearing things from his captain, the dread pirate LeCh...

There's a little back and forth but everything gets interrupted before getting anything more than "LeCh--." Uh oh.

Mr. Fossey gets orders to have this intruder tortured and offers a choice of punishment: walk the plank or get tarred and feathered. However, he won't actually let the tarring happen because they need it for ship repair. So it was walking the plank...

Right back into the boat. So it's all fine and a yelled "Splash!" from Guybrush is enough to convince Mr. Fossey.

You can come back up and this time wander around a bit, but as soon as you try to do anything, Mr. Fossey comes back out, this time with monkeys. There's the crew.

With the plank gone, getting tarred and feathered is the only option left. One monkey dunks Guybrush into the tar, then another pulls a pillow full of feathers over him. Nobody knew what to do next and Guybrush felt no more humiliated than usual, so they sent him back on his way and I was dumped back at the beach in feathery glory.

It was time for another wander again! This was an opportunity that couldn't be wasted after all. Note: if you do need to remove the feathers at any point, you can go to the waterfall. That was something I hadn't discovered for a while.

I stopped by Murray first who recognizes a fiendish being in kind, El Pollo Diablo! It's time it's time for all that to come to fruition! In its own twisted way, naturally.

Murray being Murray is excited and eager to join forces and terrorize the island. Guybrush wasn't having anything to do with this and left.

Yes, everyone will think he's El Pollo Diablo. Enter the barbershop and get threatened with all manner of things involving scissors and general bad things before fleeing. Further threats happen in the theater. Unfortunately, the Cabana Boy was already gone but the pattern is set by this point. Everyone is scared and ready to commit violence.

Anyway, all that was left was Blondebeard, the most threatened by El Pollo Diablo of all.

"Madre de Dios! Es El Pollo Diablo!"

This time Guybrush does play along and there are options to be threatening in English or Spanish. El Pollo Diablo has come for him! Blondebeard was ready as he said in previous conversations and a big bucket is also ready.

I had really intended to get a screencap of Blondebeard walloping Guybrush with his frying pan, but I missed and got stretchy Blondebeard instead. I'm not complaining; this was a glorious miss.

Anyway, poor Guybrush wakes up in the bucket in a very convenient place: the pirate ship.

Thanks to chicken grease he's free of the tar and feathers too.

LeCh-- has been revealed as not LeChuck as seemingly feared, but LeChimp, whom Mr. Fossey was talking to with little in the way of response. To quote Guybrush's summation of this situation:

"Well, if the captain is an ape...then Mr. Fossey must be...an utter loon."

There's quite a bit to examine here including food from Blondebeard's Chicken shop.. Some highlights:

Porcelain vase: "Ahh! I HATE porcelain!" Guybrush's utter disgust and hatred for porcelain is revealed here and comes up again later. Why does he hold such hatred for it? It's a mystery that's still unsolved.

Buttery biscuits: "...I wonder how soon those will sprout flies". If you try to bite one (once free). "Oh yeah, like I want another mouthful of maggots."

Stein: It's the heifer beer-processed by free range heifers. If you try to drink it once you're free to move around: "Oh be serious." This is one of the things that has a different description if you read the menu. If you didn't it's a more generic comment as I recall since Guybrush doesn't know what it is.

Mashed 'potatoes': "Oh, that's disgusting. I can't believe anyone would order Blondebeard's 'Taters.' Another different result courtesy of the menu since Guybrush now knows that's chitin and coconut milk...

Map: in the porcelain vase on the table. Must be the map to where they buried Elaine!

I had to get rid of these guys before getting out of the bucket. The ventriloquism has gotten plenty of fun play; now it was time for its true purpose. If you use it on Mr. Fossey, Fossey just says, "Uh oh, I'm hearing the voices again." But if you use it on LeChimp...

Guybrush starts a conversation taking on the role of LeChimp. Mr. Fossey was briefly puzzled because he doesn't sound like himself but Guybrush quickly shushes him.

It's maybe time to give up pirating. The crew are all monkeys. They're happier swinging from the masts than swabbing the decks. They should "give up this charade and go back to the trees. That's the life of a monkey, not sailing the seas for months!"

Mr. Fossey took some convincing but in the end gives in and leaves to go inform the men. Guybrush tried to take the opportunity to also get them to dig up the statue, but Fossey was already in his own world and headed off.

A win's a win and that got him out of my hair so I was free to move around. I grabbed the map which has some riddle-like directions.

I couldn't leave to the deck, but there was a porthole I could climb out. The plank that got cut was still floating in the water, so there was a makeshift... raft.

There was a bit of a rough patch for poor Guybrush in which he was chased by sharks, but he made it back to shore intact and all was well.

Ship acquired! Lastly, the map simply needs to be deciphered and followed to find Elaine and then it'll be time to leave the island and set sail for Blood Island!

P.S. One last little aside. As of posting this, it's New Year's Day. I'm very glad I've been keeping multiple saves because there's a little easter egg. It's one I've known about for ages, but never remembered or had the opportunity to do it. I'm glad I've been keeping multiple saves.

If you talk to Palido one of the options leads to asking him how long he's tanning for and he'll give a different month depending on the time of year. Earlier I got May. Today I got June and...

He wishes you a Happy new year.

So, I'll add to that too: Happy new year everyone.

#monkey island #the curse of monkey island #CMI #CMI_Log #adventure games #LucasArts

0 notes

palletfoundation · 2 years

Text

How can I clean up used pallets?

Before cleaning your pallet, put on thick gloves and inspect the wood visually for stains, protruding nails and code markings. Once you confirm that the pallet is safe to use, hose it down outside with a garden hose or power washer. Scrub the wood twice with a brush and soapy water, rinsing it off in between scrubbings. After a final rinse, leave your pallet in the sunshine to dry.

Look for sharp protrusions. Wear thick, non-porous gloves to inspect the pallet. Check the whole pallet to see if there are any nails or tacks sticking out. If you find a protruding nail, remove it with the claw of a hammer. If there are many tacks, you can remove them with a tack puller.

If there are tacks covering the whole piece of wood, and they aren’t sticking out, it’s not necessary to remove them.

Tacks pose less of a tetanus risk than nails, but they are both sharp and can cause accidental injury.

Check the pallet for discoloration. Visually inspect the entire pallet. Avoid colored pallets, which are used to ship chemicals and may be toxic. If you find any area with staining from an unknown source — for instance, if you don’t know the history of the pallet — it’s best to dispose of it.

Depending on what the pallet was used for in the past, the stains could be hazardous. For example, pallets that transported food or chemicals may contain pathogens or other dangerous substances.

Look for a marking that identifies the pallet. Inspect the pallet for any stamps in numbers, symbols or words that are not part of a company logo. Such markings may be painted, branded or etched onto the wood. If there aren’t any, the pallet is most likely safe. If you find a treatment code — a two- to four-letter code, usually in the lower center of a marking — identify the code.

Pallets marked with ”DB” (Debarked), “HT” (Heat Treated), “KD” (Kiln Dried) and “EPAL” (European Pallet Association Logo) should be safe to use. Avoid pallets marked “EUR” unless also marked with “EPAL.”

Pallets marked with “MB” (Methyl Bromide) contain toxic fungicide and should be disposed of according to local regulations, which can be found on the website of your locality or trash disposal service.

The pallet may contain an abbreviation for the country of origin, a registration number, and other symbols.

If the pallet is from an international source and is not marked “IPPC Logo,” it may not be safe to use.

Hose the pallet outdoors. Don’t take the unclean pallet inside your home. Use a garden house or power washer to give the whole pallet an initial rinse. This should wash away any debris. Allow the pallet to dry.

Reclaimed wood may contain insects, for example, that you wouldn’t want indoors.

Disassemble the pallet, if desired. Try using a hammer, pry bar and cat’s paw to take apart the pallet without breaking it. If a pry bar doesn’t finish the job, a nail punch or drill can drive the nails out. Alternatively, you can cut through exposed nails with an oscillating tool, or cut through the planks themselves.

Disassemble the pallet if you want to use the planks instead of the whole pallet in one piece.

Sand the wood. Place the pallet or planks between sawhorses. Rub the wood’s surface with the grain, starting with a coarse sandpaper and moving up to a fine grade. Sand the entire pallet so that it is smooth to the touch and won’t create splinter.

Make sure to sand your pallet outdoors, wearing safety goggles and a respirator to avoid dust issues.

If you opt not to sand the pallet, only use it somewhere that family and guests won’t touch it, since rough wood can cause splinter.

Scrub the wood with a soap solution. In a bucket, combine five parts water to one part dish detergent. Alternatively, you can use a solution of one part detergent, ten parts bleach and twenty parts water.Use a scrub brush to scrub all of the wood with the solution. Scrub notches and grooves vigorously.

Wear old clothes and rubber gloves. If you’re using bleach, you should also wear safety goggles and a face mask.

You may want to use bleach if you have a reason to suspect mold or mildew.

Don’t combine bleach with any products that contain ammonia.

Rinse the wood and scrub it again. Use a garden hose or power washer to rinse all the solution from the wood. Use the solution and your scrub brush to clean the wood a second time. Rinse the pallet a final time, then leave it in the sun until it’s dry.

Pallet Foundation

Moving The World, Safely, Securely & Sustainably.

To unify the wood packaging industry, the Pallet Foundation delivers the latest science and technology that allow our businesses to succeed. We work with partners and invest heavily in projects to improve the safety of our industry and our environment.

To know more visit: https://palletfoundation.org/projects/

#woodpalletassociation #woodpackagingindustry #palletdesign

0 notes

queerpyracy · 3 years

Text

On a recent sunny Saturday afternoon, power tools whirred and wood shavings flew outside the Hudson River Maritime Museum in Kingston, New York. In the shadow of Mathilda, a hefty 19th-century tugboat propped up on stilts alongside Rondout Creek, visitors busily bored holes into freshly cut red oak logs laid out upon sawhorses. Participants in this hands-on shiitake mushroom cultivation workshop each took home one log from a stack of about 300 that altogether weighed some 12,000 pounds. Later that afternoon, the group passed the remaining logs, bucket brigade-style, into the hold of a graceful sailing schooner, the Apollonia, docked just steps away, beginning a week-long journey some 100 miles down the Hudson River to Brooklyn.

This unlikely combination of elements—mushrooms, a huge pile of logs, a sailboat bound for the big city—was the culmination of a multifaceted experiment that asked: Is it possible to deliver resources from a region where they’re plentiful to one where they are scarce, while prioritizing sustainability and supporting a local economy?

[Continue Reading]

#mushroom cultivation #urban agriculture

9 notes · View notes

jemch · 3 years

Text

How It’s Made Index（S21~S30）

How It’s Made是由 Discovery Channel 制作一款王牌节目，又被翻译为制造的原理或造物小百科，本片从2001年推出至今，涵盖了几乎所有的制造技术，非常适合机械专业和对此感兴趣的同学。希望大家享受这趟制造的艺术之旅！

第二十一季推出时间为2013-04-04至2013-08-01

S21E01 Rubber Gloves; Soap Carvings; Aircraft Cabinets; Motorcycle Brake Locks 橡胶手套，肥皂雕刻，飞机木柜，摩托车制动锁

本集看点：极其舒适的橡胶手套制作过程；

S21E02 Powder Horns; Handcrafted Molds; Perogies; Inner Tubes 粉角，手工模具，饺子，内胎

S21E03 Lace; Antique Frame Replicas; Orchids; Unicycle Wheel Hubs 蕾丝，古董架复制品，兰花，独轮车轮毂

S21E04 External Hard Drives; Frozen Shrimp; Thai Rice Boxes; Paper Towel 外置硬盘，冷冻虾，泰国米箱，纸巾

本集看点：硬核的西部数据移动硬盘组装制程；

S21E05 Tea; Roof Finials; Artificial Flowers; Alloy Wheels 茶，屋顶饰物，人造花，合金轮毂

S21E06 Gel Caps; Playground Spring Riders; Frozen Pancakes; Natural Rubber 胶囊，摇摇玩具，冷冻煎饼，天然橡胶

S21E07 Paper Umbrellas; Coal; Aircraft Seats; Urns 纸伞，煤，飞机座椅，瓮

S21E08 Aluminum Canoes;Wood Bowls;Wheelchair Accessible Vans;Marimbas 铝独木舟，木碗，残疾人改装车，木琴

S21E09 Indy Car Seats; Paper Flowers; Stand-by Generators; 赛车座椅，纸花，备用发电机

S21E10 Knee Replacements; Leaf Springs; Lavender; Rivets and Rivet Tools 膝关节置换，钢板弹簧，薰衣草，铆钉和铆钉的工具

本集看点：另外一种大型弹簧结构；铆钉的工作原理；

S21E11 Cast Iron Stoves; Ultralight Aircraft; Snow Groomers; Rubber Bands 铸铁炉具，超轻型飞机，推雪车，橡皮筋

S21E12 Barber Chairs; Sewage Pumps; Bimini Boat Tops; Diesel Filters 理发椅，污水泵，比米尼游乐船，柴油过滤器

S21E13 Car Tires; Silk; Art Conservation; Scuba Tanks 汽车轮胎，丝绸，艺术保护，潜水氧气瓶

本集看点：铝合金终极冲压教程；

本季资源链接：

magnet:?xt=urn:btih:8e3c0ca289825ca99cbb7699dcbaf926aeb42265&dn

第二十二季推出时间为2013-10-10至2014-01-16

S22E01 Electric Stand-Up Vehicles; Frozen Fruit; Beer Coasters; Forged Door Handles 电动站立车，冰冻水果，啤酒杯垫，锻造门把手

本集看点：专业铁匠；

S22E02 Rock Crushers;Fabric Lampshades;Cake Sprinkles;Steam Irons 岩石破碎机，织物灯罩，蛋糕彩条，蒸汽熨斗

S22E03 Indy Steering Wheels;Mixed Salad;Wind Turbines 印地赛车方向盘，什锦沙拉，风力涡轮机

S22E04 Blast Doors; Lipstick; Artificial Palm Trees; Brass Plaques 防爆门，口红，人造棕榈树，黄铜牌匾

S22E05 Carbon Fiber; Antique Frame Restoration; Railcar Movers; Hood Ornaments 碳纤维，古董保存架，有轨机车，车头装饰品

S22E06 Sawhorses and Toolboxes;Sorbet Pops;School Buses 史丹利工具箱，便携汁冰糕，校车

S22E07 Sanders;Solid Terrain Models;Stucco;High-Speed Roll-up Doors 抛光机，固体地形模型，水泥，高速卷门

S22E08 Pressed Glass;Pickup Truck Caps;Alpaca Yarn;Utility Knives 压制玻璃，敞蓬小型载货卡车，羊驼纱线，工具刀

S22E09 Body Casting; Downdraft Stoves; Compression Garments; Electric Motorcycles 身体模型，气流炉灶，长袜，电动摩托车

S22E10 Sidecars;Frozen French Toast;Refrigerator Compressors;Superchargers 摩托侧箱，冷冻法式土司，冰箱压缩机，增压器

S22E11 Custom Knee Braces;Air Conditioners;Window Films;Motorcycle Exhaust 定制膝盖支撑，空调，窗户贴膜，摩托车排气管

S22E12 Solid State Drives;Eye Shadow;Limousines;Dead Blow Hammers 固态硬盘，眼影，豪华加长轿车，香槟锤

本集看点：先进半导体制程制作的硬盘；

S22E13 Dragster Tires; Icing; Floating Docks; Spiral Pipes 赛车轮胎，冰淇淋，飘浮船坞，螺旋管

本季资源链接：

magnet:?xt=urn:btih:c1ddbd38f95041c1482295587ae0c59e19416937&dn

第二十三季推出时间为2014-04-03至2014-07-03

S23E01 Motion Sensors; Belt Loaders; Pheasant Breeding; Diving Helmets 运动传感器，带式装载机，野鸡养殖，潜水头盔

本集看点：先进半导体制程制作的传感器芯片；

S23E02 Rawhide Lampshades; Chocolate Chip Cookies; MRI Scanners 皮灯罩，巧克力饼干，核磁共振成像扫描仪

S23E03 Noise Barrier Walls; Front-Load Washers; Bourbon; Flexible Circuit 声音屏障墙，滚筒洗衣机，威士忌，柔性电路板（FPC）

本集看点：柔性电路板是如何加工的；

S23E04 Railway Bridge Ties; Membrane Filters; Hydraulic Post Drivers; Bi-Planes 铁路桥梁枕木，膜过滤器，桩机，四翼飞机

S23E05 Hospital Laundry; Brass Instrument Restoration; Horse Replicas; Excavation 医院洗衣，铜管乐器修复，马复制品，挖掘机挖斗

本集看点：用玻璃纤维制作空心复制品；巨厚钢板的激光切割，折弯与焊接；

S23E06 Ceramic Fireplaces; Synthetic Corks; Parking Garage Floor Slabs 陶瓷壁炉，合成软木塞，车库楼板

本集看点：多种塑胶粒子组合的连续注塑；

S23E07 Oil Pressure Sensors; Printing; Equipment Simulators; Head & Neck Restraints 油压传感器，大型印刷，设备模拟器，护颈

本集看点：打金线制程；

S23E08 Mobile Concert Stages; Mascara; Continuous Miners; Wood Gift Boxes 移动音乐会舞台，睫毛膏，挖煤机，木制礼品盒

S23E09 NASCAR Car Bodies; Hurley Sticks; Tube Amplifiers; Thermal Coffee Pots 纳斯卡跑车车身，赫尔利球球棒，声音放大器，热咖啡壶

S23E10 Electric Vehicle Charging Stations; Grappa; Lunar Rover Replicas 电动汽车充电站；格拉巴酒；月球车复制品

S23E11 Slate Tiles; Hot Dog Carts; Garage Door Openers; Bicycle Seats 板岩瓷砖；热狗车；车库门开启器；自行车座椅

S23E12 Racing Leathers; Evaporative Cooling Towers; Rocking Chairs; Wire Wheels 赛车皮革；蒸发冷却塔；摇椅；钢丝轮

本集看点：滚丝螺纹工艺；

S23E13 Mountain Bikes; Rice; Lever Action Rifles 山地自行车；大米；杠杆动作步枪

S23E14 Shark Week Edition: Surfboards; Diving Regulators; SCUBA Tanks; Water Skis 回收冲浪板；潜水调节器；潜水氧气瓶；滑水板

S23E15 300th Episode - Shark Week Edition: Sails; Reef Aquariums; Oceanographic Buoys; Folding Kayaks 风帆；珊瑚礁水族馆；海洋浮标；折叠皮划艇

本季资源链接：

magnet:?xt=urn:btih:33139d133183e8bf6e6dfec6684ca9f07bec0982&dn

第二十四季推出时间为2014-09-25至2015-01-15

S24E01 Saunas; Wheelchair Lifts; Dioramas 桑拿；轮椅升降机；立体模型

S24E02 Oil Lamps; Chocolate Mints; Underfloor Heating; Pillows 油灯；巧克力薄荷糖；地板采暖; 枕头

S24E03 Upright Pianos; Flags; Wet/Dry Vacuums; Medieval Axes 立式钢琴；旗帜；湿式/干式吸尘器；中世纪斧头

S24E04 Skeletal Replicas; Ice Buckets; Dining Chairs; Inground Pools 骨骼复制品；冰桶；餐椅；地下游泳池

S24E05 Automatic Sliding Doors; Gin; Firearms Restoration 自动推拉门；杜松子酒; 枪械修复

S24E06 Scuba Lights; Sandals; Race Car Simulators; Fibreglass Doors 潜水灯；凉鞋；赛车模拟器；玻璃钢门

S24E07 Wood Windows; Cashmere Fabric; Plastic Recycling; Architectural Glass 木窗；羊绒面料；塑料回收；建筑玻璃

S24E08 Gas Barbecues; Mattress Pads; Ear Prostheses 燃气烧烤炉；床垫；耳假体

S24E09 Recycled Skateboards; Braided Pastry; Construction Trailers; Vises 回收滑板；编织糕点；施工拖车；虎钳

S24E10 Plasma Gems; Special Effects Snow; Piano Restoration 等离子宝石；特效雪；钢琴修复

S24E11 3-Wheel Electric Bikes; Skin Cream; Patio Heaters; Wood Wheels 三轮电动自行车；润肤霜; 天井取暖器；木轮

S24E12 Old West Holsters; Underwater Video Housings; Soy Beverages; Pet Nail Trimmers 老西部皮套；水下视频外壳；大豆饮料；宠物指甲修剪器

S24E13 Wood Garage Doors; Sand and Salt Spreaders; Animatronic Dinosaurs 木车库门；沙子和盐撒布机；电子动画恐龙

本季资源链接：

magnet:?xt=urn:btih:0a4eda224bbaf24666bb12c13bf1cd5732bf51fd&dn

第二十五季推出时间为2015-04-02至2015-07-02

S25E01 Grammy Awards; Bicycle Lights; Above-Ground Pools; Foldable Solar Panels 格莱美奖; 自行车灯；地上游泳池；可折叠太阳能电池板

S25E02 Led Stage Lights; Apple Cider; Chemical Tank Trailers; Ornate Stone Floor LED舞台灯；苹果酒; 化学品罐拖车；华丽的石地板

S25E03 Fishing Line; Industrial Mixers; Natural Baking Soda; and Tow Trucks 钓鱼线; 工业搅拌机；天然小苏打；拖车

S25E04 Storage Sheds; Industrial Fans; Parchment Paper; and Climbing Walls 储藏棚；工业风扇；羊皮纸；攀岩墙

S25E05 Precast Concrete Walls; 3D Printers; Telescopic Cranes; Kerosene Lamp Burners 预制混凝土墙； 3D 打印机；伸缩式起重机；煤油灯燃烧器

S25E06 Car Headlamps; Directional Drills; Pet Combs; and Stained Glass Restoration 汽车大灯；定向钻；宠物梳子；彩色玻璃修复

S25E07 Handcrafted Skis; Septic Tanks; Hydroformed Chassis Parts; Aquarium Windows 手工制作的滑雪板；化粪池; 液压成型底盘零件；水族馆窗户

S25E08 Zip Line Brakes; Silk Fiber Lamps; Round Balers; Comfort Shoes 拉链线制动器；丝纤维灯；圆形打包机；舒适鞋

S25E09 Armored Vehicles; Tension Fabric Buildings; Rowers; Sculpture Enlargements 装甲车；张力织物建筑；划船者；雕塑放大

S25E10 Mountain Bike Suspensions; Surgical Sutures; Grain Dryers; and Frying Pans 山地自行车悬架；手术缝合；谷物烘干机；煎锅

S25E11 Downhill Ski Bindings; Immersion Washers; Mining Ventilation; Pencil Sharpeners 速降滑雪绑定；浸入式垫圈；矿用通风；卷笔刀

S25E12 Gingerbread Houses; Livestock Trailers; Hangar Doors; and Toy Figurines 姜饼屋；牲畜拖车；机库门；玩具公仔

S25E13 Traffic Signal Poles; Coffee Filters; and Chainsaw Mining Machines; 交通信号杆；咖啡过滤器；链锯采矿机；

本季资源链接：

magnet:?xt=urn:btih:78ae318559e0477f5bb1db0abb0fcfa841e491be&dn

第二十六季推出时间为2015-09-10至2015-12-17

S26E01 Time-Delay Locks; Brownies; Pallet Dispensers; and Crystal Chandeliers 延时锁；布朗尼; 托盘分配器；水晶吊灯

S26E02 Bead Wire; Mini Pepperoni; Irrigation Sprinklers; and Leather Gloves 珠线；迷你意大利辣香肠；灌溉喷头；皮手套

S26E03 Mouth-Blown Window Glass; Water Pumps; Sake; Tweezers 口吹窗玻璃；水泵; 清酒; 镊子

S26E04 Statue Restoration; Tripods; Polish Sausages; Welding Guns 雕像修复；三脚架；波兰香肠；焊枪

S26E05 Champagne; ATMs; Marine Turbochargers; 香槟酒; 自动取款机；船用涡轮增压器；

S26E06 Sharpening Steels; Bladder Pumps; Ironing Boards; and Kayak Paddles 磨刀钢；膀胱泵；烫衣板；皮划艇桨

S26E07 Champagne Hoods; Pneumatic Systems; Espresso Machines; Pizza Ovens 香槟罩；气动系统；浓缩咖啡机；比萨烤箱

S26E08 Stile & Rail Doors, Steam Cleaners, Hand-Held Pizzas, and Power Brushes 轨道门；蒸汽清洁器；手持比萨饼；电动刷

S26E09 Industrial Casters; Wedding Cakes; THz Spectrometers; Racing Catamarans 工业脚轮；婚礼蛋糕；太赫兹光谱仪；竞速双体船

S26E10 Ceramic Grills, Pneumatic Punchers, Water Jet Fountains, Wooden Surfboards 陶瓷烤架、气动打孔机、喷水喷泉、木制冲浪板

S26E11 Vibrating Mining Screens; Whoopie Pies; Utility Poles; Roller Conveyors 振动采矿筛；百日咳派；电线杆；滚筒输送机

本集看点：电线杆也内卷；

S26E12 Exercise Bikes; Cornish Pasties; Pasta Makers; Slate Products 健身车；康沃尔馅饼；面食制造商；板岩产品

S26E13 Channel Signs, Wetsuits, and Aluminum Aircraft 航道标志；潜水服；铝制飞机

本季资源链接：

magnet:?xt=urn:btih:85892a96e09b0d9f596d98bcd450aeb870a6af3d&dn

第二十七季推出时间为2016-05-19至2016-08-15

S27E01 CNC Assembly Machines; Lemon Tarts; Miniature War Figures 数控组装机；柠檬馅饼；微型战争人物

S27E02 Chemical Tank Pressure Vents; Candy Wafers; Food Trucks; Traditional Ropes 化学品罐压力通风口；糖果晶圆；食品卡车；传统绳索

S27E03 Graphene; Worlds Smallest Car; Force Testers; Composite Cans 石墨烯；世界上最小的汽车；力测试仪；复合罐

本集看点：单层的石墨烯是如何分离出来的；

S27E04 LED tubes; chocolate peanut butter bars; robotic medication dispensers. LED灯管；巧克力花生酱棒；机器人配药器

S27E05 Commercial drones; aquarium fish; runway cleaners. 商用无人机；观赏鱼；跑道清洁工

S27E06 Wooden Matches, Tillage Machines, Telescopic Gangways 木火柴、耕地机、伸缩式舷梯

S27E07 Mosquito Coils, Solar-Assist Tricycles, Palm Oil, Fiberglass Chopper Guns 蚊香、太阳能辅助三轮车、棕榈油、玻璃纤维斩波枪

S27E08 Wood Toys, Retro Toasters, Laboratory Furnaces, Aerogel 木制玩具、复古烤面包机、实验室炉、气凝胶

S27E09 Combination Squares, Farmed Shrimp, Ball Valves and String Trimmers 组合方形、养殖虾、球阀和切线器

S27E10 Chinese-style Furniture, Electrical Switches, Thai Fish Sauce, Cappers 中式家具、电器开关、泰式鱼露、压盖机

S27E11 Mortars and pestles; bowling lane conditioners; crematories 研钵和研杵；保龄球道调节器；火葬场

S27E12 Race Car Oil Tanks; Plaster Mouldings; Lemongrass Oil 赛车油箱；石膏线条；柠檬草油

S27E13 Coconut Charcoal; Dial Indicators; Wet Downdraft Tables; Bassoon Reeds 椰子炭；表盘指示器；湿式下吸台；巴松管簧片

本季资源链接：

magnet:?xt=urn:btih:5289719d3944f98f2c2d425cd79b0487aec36fc7&dn

第二十八季推出时间为2016-08-22至2016-11-03

S28E01 Classic Car Gauges; Chocolate Marble Cake; Ghillie Kettles 经典汽车仪表；巧克力大理石蛋糕；吉利水壶

S28E02 Pasta Dies; Blueberries; Composting Toilets; Surge Arresters 面食模具；蓝莓; 堆肥厕所；避雷器

S28E03 Angle Grinders; Berry Baskets; Omnidirectional Speakers 角磨机；浆果篮；全向扬声器

S28E04 Cartridge Blades; Chocolate Banana Loaves; Vending 墨盒刀片；巧克力香蕉面包；自动售货机

S28E05 Ultra-Thin Glass; Pallet Dismantlers; Cupcakes; Stainless Steel 超薄玻璃；托盘拆卸器；纸杯蛋糕; 不锈钢

本集看点：溢流熔融法制作的柔性超薄玻璃（应该是康宁）；

S28E06 Potash; Leather Bracelets; Wild Rice; Hex Key L Wrenches 钾肥；皮革手链；野米; 六角扳手 L

S28E07 Nail Files; Birch Canoes; Boat Hardtops; High Voltage Circuit 指甲锉；桦木独木舟；船硬顶；高压电路

S28E08 Macarons; Pine Needle Baskets; Micrometers 马卡龙；松针篮；千分尺

S28E09 Endoscopes; Megaphones; Uranium 内窥镜；扩音器；铀

S28E10 Hollow Disk Pumps; Palm Sugar; Yachts 空心圆盘泵；棕榈糖; 游艇

S28E11 Abalone Collagen; Digital-to-Analog Converters; Embosssed 鲍鱼胶原蛋白；数模转换器；压花

S28E12 Thai Barbecues; Diving Masks & Fins; Bassoons 泰式烧烤；潜水面罩和脚蹼；巴松管

S28E13 Wooden Utensils; Transport Refrigeration Units; Moccasins 木制餐具；运输制冷装置；莫卡辛鞋

本季资源链接：

magnet:?xt=urn:btih:6b3298e03c0e32ede5bc1b81e13a315adae86528&dn

第二十九季推出时间为2017-06-22至2017-09-24

S29E01 Skateboard Wheels; Baklava & Galaktoboureko; CO2 滑板轮；千层酥皮奶冻玉米糕；二氧化碳

S29E02 Nuno Felt; Drum Crushers; Kimchi; Parquet Floors 努诺毡；鼓式破碎机；泡菜；镶木地板

S29E03 Wood Watches; Steel Bicycles; Raw Pet Food; Replica Police 木表；钢制自行车；生宠物食品；复制警察

S29E04 Thermoplastic Fire Helmets; Basketry Sculptures; Coffee 热塑性消防头盔；篮子雕塑；咖啡

S29E05 Office Chairs; Vinobrew; Reconditioned Sander Drums 办公椅；酒酿；翻新砂光鼓

S29E06 Fireplace Bellows; Calissons; Diving Watercraft 壁炉波纹管；卡利松；潜水艇

S29E07 Artist Brushes; DEF Tank Heaters; Game Tables; Art Glass 艺术家画笔； DEF 储罐加热器；游戏桌；艺术玻璃

S29E08 Flying Water Bikes; Throttle Position Sensors; Cinnamon 飞行水上自行车；油门位置传感器；肉桂

S29E09 Foosball Tables; Marseille Soap; Laguiole Pocket Knives 桌上足球桌；马赛皂；拉吉奥小折刀

S29E10 Berets; Pastis; Stationary Bikes 贝雷帽；意大利面食；固定自行车

S29E11 Bistro Sets; Letterpress Printing; Bamboo Lights; Asphalt 小酒馆套餐；凸版印刷；竹灯；沥青压车

S29E12 Technological Corks; Zinc Gutters; Traditional Ham; Chisteras 技术软木塞；锌天沟；传统火腿；奇斯特拉斯游戏手臂

S29E13 Pentanque Ball; Biologic Medicines; Asphalt Pavers; Basques 滚球；生物药物；沥青摊铺机；巴斯克鞋

本期看点：空心半铁球焊接，再两步CNC制作出完美球形；

本季资源链接：

magnet:?xt=urn:btih:971ec4ef1ce447538e18d1305ec2f8103daee29d&dn

第三十季推出时间为 2017-09-11至2017-12-18

S30E01 Leather Basketballs; Flood Gates; Wood Panel Canvases; Shoelaces 皮革篮球；防洪闸；木板画布；鞋带

S30E02 Power Steering Pumps; Asian Bowl Meals; Walking Canes 动力转向泵；亚洲碗餐；手杖

S30E03 Plant Oil Extractors; Custom Chandeliers; Power Trainers; Coffee Pods 植物油提取器；定制吊灯；力量训练器；咖啡包

S30E04 Witness Samples; Pressure Washers; Bee Hives; Cast Iron Cookers 见证样品；压力垫圈；蜂箱；铸铁炊具

S30E05 Leather Sculptures; Travel Hot Plates; Ochre; Hurdy Gurdies 皮革雕塑；旅行热板；赭石；赫迪·古尔迪斯

S30E06 Spiral Stairs; Pita Bread; Exhaust Headers; Molded Limestone Artwork 螺旋楼梯；皮塔饼；排气集管；模压石灰石艺术品

S30E07 Recycled Skateboard Guitars; Solar Street Lights; Dolls 回收的滑板吉他；太阳能路灯；娃娃

S30E08 Glass Sculptures; Racing Pulley Systems; Inductors; Medicine Balls 玻璃雕塑；赛车滑轮系统；电感器；药丸

S30E09 Fish Rubbings; Clay Shooting Machines; Almonds; High-End Motorcycles 鱼拓片；粘土射击机；杏仁; 高端摩托车

S30E10 Throttle Bodies; Limestone Fireplace Mantels; Candied Fruit & Fruit Jellies; Linen Ukulele 节气门体；石灰石壁炉架；蜜饯和果冻；亚麻尤克里里

S30E11 Rubber Balls; Motion Chairs; Montreal Smoked Meat; Motorized Scooters 橡胶球；运动椅；蒙特利尔熏肉；电动滑板车

S30E12 Aerospace Fasteners; Cactus Pear Puree; Lab Reactors 航空紧固件；仙人掌梨泥；实验室反应器

S30E13 Wall Beds; Sundae Cups; Digital Paintings; Badminton Rackets 壁床；圣代杯；数字绘画；羽毛球拍

本季资源链接：

magnet:?xt=urn:btih:cc865a515b621051b71e833bd62e466fc45949d3&dn

#how it's made

2 notes · View notes

ashesandhalefire · 5 years

Text

we had it (almost)

michael guerin x alex manes canon compliant pre-1.09

---

As a rule, Michael tries to avoid injecting himself into the business of the town beyond the property limits of Sander’s Auto, the Wild Pony, or Foster Ranch. If he can’t earn himself a paycheck, get a stiff drink, or find somewhere quiet to hide out during the long hours of insufferably lonely nights, he figures he shouldn’t let the problems of Roswell weigh on his shoulders.

That’s been his policy for over a decade, so when he notices a strange light in the window of a closed storefront on his way home, he has every intention of minding his own business. The town’s rising larceny rate is only partially his fault, and he has no responsibility to look after the vagrants he comes across at two in the morning. Leave that to Max and his badge and his hero complex. Michael has a mattress and a pillow and a second bottle of acetone calling his name.

The traffic light turns red at the end of the block, and he drums his fingers as he waits at the empty intersection. Glancing back towards the window is mostly an accident. Honestly, it wouldn’t surprise him to find the old members of Wyatt Long’s high school posse breaking and entering. They have enough money to buy their ways out of whatever trouble they land in, and they’ve been fidgety since Long took a bullet to the leg. They rove like hyenas, slobbering and mangey and stupid. Destruction of property would be very on-brand for them. But when he looks, he doesn’t see anyone in the shadows. It’s a cool, clear night, but the only thing illuminated by the large swaths of moonlight is the marque on the building.

Roswell’s UFO Emporium.

Grant Green’s perpetual construction project has sat untouched in the center of town for just under six years. Town supervisors had been livid when construction began just before the height of tourist season, but Grant had assured them everything would be settled in a few months. Bigger and better, he had promised. At the time, Michael had bitterly hoped an electrical mishap might burn the place to the ground, so he’s more than a little confused when he instinctively pulls into a quick U-turn the second the traffic light turns green again. He parks at the curb and takes a deep breath.

The museum was defunct by the time Grant got his hand on it. Even on its best days, it hadn’t turned much of a profit. It was the kind of place people wandered into when they were looking for a way to escape the triple-digit temperatures, but it hardly received glowing reviews. No doubt Grant planned on using it more as a recruitment center for his delusional followers than anything else. Now, it’s only a matter of time before the town claims the property rights from his estate.

In a few months, after fresh paint goes up over a new layer of drywall and somebody replaces the old incandescent lightbulbs, the museum will open, lazily refurbished as a more lucrative tourist trap. Any damage done by a few trespassers will be patched and forgotten.

Still, Michael idles his truck at the curb.

With a scowl, he reminds himself that sentimentality has gotten him nowhere lately. It got him a couple of decent kisses and a few nights of sex that didn’t end with bloodshed or an acetone binge, but the net gain at the end was heartache and disappointment. He should go home.

He looks over at the building, twisting his hands mercilessly around the steering wheel. The stupid sign still hanging in the window of the ticket booth says “I’ve been abducted! Back in 5.” One of the chains that should be holding the front doors closed dangles uselessly from the metal handle.

Michael swears, ripping the keys out of the ignition, and shoves his way out of the car.

The UFO museum never inspired warm and fuzzy feelings. Most of the exhibits were grossly inaccurate, and the display descriptions all took on alarmist tones that made planet-wide invasions sound inevitable. He still gets a particularly troubling feeling in his stomach when he thinks about the room with the interactive dissection display. The dummy was six feet long and bright neon-green with three fingers on each hand and a head shaped like a spade, but the way its foam flesh had been peeled away from its chest cavity still sends shivers down his spine when he thinks about it. Children, two at a time, had been allowed to reach inside and squeeze the fake organs, coating their hands with green blood the consistency of papier-mâché paste. The first time he saw it, on a middle school field trip, he had run to the bathroom to throw up. Isobel told everyone it was because he ate too many chicken fingers at lunch, and one of Kyle Valenti’s friends joked that foster kids always got too excited about free meals.

But there was one day—one hour—when it was his favorite place in the world.

Tucked away in the back room with hands on his face and his shoulders and his back, he had felt potential stretch out infinitely in every direction. There was a whole summer to plan, and it wasn’t difficult to imagine sitting in the alleyway behind the building to share sandwiches on lunch breaks or loitering in the empty exhibits on slow days or riding out into the desert after closing and taking time to pick out fake constellations in the real stars. For the first time, his future wasn’t about escape.

The room is probably an empty shell of damaged drywall and scratched floors now, all the exhibits taken out and moved to Grant’s warehouse, and the energy of that afternoon had burned out and died by nightfall of the same day. Potential scattered in the breeze like ash. Everything changed. Still, the idea of Wyatt Long’s drunken friends littering the place with beer cans and pissing in the corners to cure their boredom makes his jaw twitch. The museum doesn’t belong to them.

When he slips inside, everything is darker and quieter than he expected. There’s no sign of anybody having been in the deconstructed lobby, and an eerie silence seems to inhabit the rest of the building. Drunken vandals wouldn’t be nearly so stealthy, and that should be enough to satisfy him, give him leave to turn around and go home, but the curiosity wins out. Somebody wanted to get inside badly enough to risk standing on the street to pick the chain lock. The only thing Michael thinks might be worth stealing in here is the copper wiring, which would require breaking open the walls, and that wouldn’t be this quiet either.

Listening for any signs of movement, Michael creeps forward, working his way between the forgotten sawhorses, and checks the room on the right that used to be the gift shop. A faint bit of moonlight streams through the front corner of the window where the newspaper has peeled back with age, and he runs a fingertip over the dusty glass countertop. It used to be filled with poorly-designed plush and cheap plastic necklaces with almond-shaped heads on them. Now, it’s just empty glass cabinetry waiting to be demolished.

He should be glad to see the kitsch go, but he isn’t. It leaves him feeling unsettled.

The old manager’s office on the other side of the foyer is undisturbed in its abandonment, and Michael drums his fingers lightly against the wall as he makes his way deeper into the building. The first exhibit room is completely empty, and it’s swallowed in shadows without the light from the front windows. He presses forward, gently nudging obstacles out of the way with a jerk of his chin. The second and third rooms are crammed tight with piles of garbage that was never removed, and he tries to ignore the way that gnaws at him. He works his way past the broken drywall and splintered two-by-fours, careful to avoid the exposed nails and razor-sharp remnants of display cases, and then a soft click echoes from through a doorway on the left. A soft glow from inside guides him the rest of the way across the room.

When he peers around the corner, two thoughts occur simultaneously: it isn’t who he was expecting, and it never would have been anyone else.

“Remind me again which one of us is supposed to be the criminal,” Michael says after a deep breath, and it’s a little satisfying to watch Alex startle. His crutch hits the side of an overturned spackle bucket, sending it skittering loudly across the floor, and he winces at how the sound echoes in the empty room. Alex has his own phone sitting face-down on a crate, and the flashlight splashes a dull circle of light onto the ceiling.

When the stillness settles over them again, Michael cross his arms and leans against the wall. The acetone he slipped into his drinks at the bar has officially worn off, which means the ache in his hand will return soon. It’s a constant, dull pain. With enough acetone in his system, it fades to the background like the hum of the electric wires or Grant Green’s alien podcasts, Roswell’s special brand of white noise. Eyes raking over Alex’s rumpled sweatpants and half-zipped hoodie, he thinks he feels the beginnings of twinges radiating from his wrist down into his pinky.

Finally, Alex licks his lips and asks, “What are you doing here?”

“Really?” Michael raises an eyebrow. “I’m the one who just caught you breaking and entering.”

Lifting his chin defiantly, Alex squares his shoulders. “Well, unless somebody gave you a key, you’re breaking and entering, too.”

“You did all the breaking,” Michael says with a shrug. “I just entered.”

“That’s still trespassing.” Cocking his head, Alex says, “You do know that criminal records aren’t bingo cards, right? There’s no prize for filling in all the rows.”

Alex’s new mean streak is a delicious twist on his high school sarcasm, and Michael leans into it without meaning to. He likes when Alex pulls his hair, too. “Actually,” he says, “I’m in the process of executing a citizen’s arrest, so I think the sheriff’s department will let this one slide.”

“Doubtful.”

Michael clicks his tongue. “I have an in with one of the deputies.”

“I hope you don’t mean Max.”

“God, no,” Michael scoffs. “He’d be first in line with the handcuffs.”

That earns him a small lift at the corner of Alex’s mouth, and some of the stiffness in his spine eases away. Michael feels his own shoulders relax. Every interaction with Alex has been wrought with tension, and he wants desperately for this night to not end in a fight.

“Aren’t you staying out of town these days?”

Shuffling around an overfilled trash can, Alex works his way forward.

“I couldn’t sleep,” he admits with a shrug. He flexes his grip around the handle on his crutch and averts his eyes. The shadows on his face sit heavily beneath his eyes, and Michael frowns.

“Most people would try warm milk first,” he says. “Or Ambien. Trespassing doesn’t usually make the list of top five insomnia remedies.”

“Then consider it my last resort.”

With an indelicate hop, Alex hefts himself up onto the crate in the middle of the room and settles his crutch between his knees. His cell phone sits behind him, plunging him into pure silhouette, and Michael steps farther into the room. Purple Heart Airman Alex Manes is not the kind of man to drive across town in the middle of the night in order to break into a construction site. But this isn’t just any construction site.

“Why would you want to come here?” Michael asks. Alex stares silently at his hands, and Michael taps the toe of his boot against a stack of two-by-fours. “It’s not exactly—”

“Don’t play dumb,” Alex interrupts, looking up sharply. “I’m not in the mood. You know why I would come here.”

It hangs heavily between them.

Alex had been swift and decisive when he ended things at the drive-in, leaving no room for interpretation. But it also hadn’t been the first time he walked away, so Michael can’t be entirely surprised to be stumbling into the middle of his late-night backslide. The pattern repeats again, a twisted version of an unhappy ending that hurts more than never having him in the first place.

With a huff, he hops up onto the crate beside Alex. It groans beneath their combined weights but holds firm, and he claps his hands down on his knees.

“Look around, Alex. Everything that made this place what it was? It’s long gone,” Michael says. The wall to the left is where the model UFO hung, backlit by a wall of twinkling little lights. It’s half-torn out sheetrock now. “Whatever you’re looking for, it’s not here. Not anymore.”

Alex shakes his head. “That’s not how it works. This place doesn’t just stop being important—” He breaks off, tapping his crutch against the ground. Michael watches him swallow. “Never mind. You obviously don’t— forget it.”

Scoffing, Michael leans back and looks at the ceiling. The only reason he even walked through the front door was because of some desperate need to protect the memories living in the walls. But he never loved the cheesy UFO museum. In the years since Alex left town, he never felt himself drawn back to the building itself. Even before Grant took the exhibits out, Michael never felt there was anything inside for him. It’s strange that now, when Alex is finally on the same continent—in the same town, in the same room—he felt drawn to it. Or maybe it isn’t strange at all.

“I try not to think about that day,” Michael says. It’s a truth and a lie at the same time, and it’s much bigger than a secret kiss or a shattered hand. At first, everything had bled together for him. He couldn’t think about the cave without thinking about the toolshed without thinking about the museum. When he closed his eyes, he saw burning cars and the curve of Alex’s naked hip and his own blood all at the same time. But his mind has worked miracles compartmentalizing that day. Certain parts have never left him. Others are best forgotten.

Alex spins his crutch in his hands and says, “I think about that day all the time.”

“I’ll bet. I hear PTSD is a bitch.”

“Actually, it was one of the best days of my life.”

Michael scoffs. “Shit, Alex. That’s not saying much for your life.”

“Don’t do that.” Alex frowns.

“Do what?”

“Don’t minimize it.” Wringing his hands, Alex keeps his eyes fixed on his lap. “I’m not stupid, alright? We only had a few hours, and I’m not delusional enough to think— I know what it was. But you have no idea what it meant to me.” His voice wavers, and Michael feels frozen on the spot. The ten lost years have reduced them to unfamiliar strangers, and sometimes it feels like they don’t even speak the same language anymore. They hadn’t needed to say much to each other for things to things to fall into place the first time. It hasn’t been nearly as easy on their second—third, fourth, fifth, he loses count—try.

Alex takes a deep breath and turns away, offering the rest of his confession to the empty room.

“You were mine when I didn’t have anything else. And I know— I know how it ended. I know what it cost you. But you’ll never understand what it meant to me to have you for as long as I did.”

Heart in his throat, Michael stares at the darkened silhouette of Alex’s profile.

A few weeks ago, he stood in front of Alex and laid himself bare entirely by accident. I never look away. Not really. Alex had seemed surprised and then pleasantly flustered, but Michael had assumed it was because of how much time had passed. Ten years is a long time for a heart to stay alone someplace, just waiting to carry on, but Alex had admitted to it first. Alex had reopened the door.

But he doesn’t sound like a man who understands how pathetically Michael has wanted him.

With Max’s voice still whispering in his ear, Michael bites back, You still have me.

It isn’t the sort of promise that can be a comfort to Alex now. Michael isn’t really what he wants anymore, isn’t what he remembers having. He isn’t that boy from the back of the truck that just wanted a safe place to sleep. Or maybe, somewhere deep down, he still has it in him to be that soft, but he’s built up a layer of callous and scar tissue on the outside that makes him unrecognizable.

I can’t be with a criminal, Alex had said, and he hadn’t even known the half of it.

Max was right when he said that they couldn’t be with the people they love. And still, he’s angry at Alex for the way he’s been hurt, and it makes him feel like an idiot. He hates that the two contradictory truths can live inside him so easily. Like a trap getting angry at a bear for being wary, he resents Alex for running away while hating himself for being undeserving of keeping him.

It says a lot about Michael that his greatest regret is not letting Alex kiss him the first time he tried.

Alex takes a shuddering breath suddenly, head ducked low, and rubs a hand against the back of his neck. He seems embarrassed, curling in on himself like it can erase his admission. Leaning closer, Michael bumps their shoulders together to stop his retreat.

“You know,” he says, “you and me getting together was kind of, like, the most romantic thing that’s ever happened in this town.”

“Fuck off.”

“I’m serious,” Michael insists when he catches the bitterness in Alex’s tone. He isn’t trying to tease him, and he doesn’t want Alex to think he doesn’t appreciate the weight of what happened between them. “It was like a movie.”

“Are you incapable of sincerity, or do you just enjoy being an asshole?”

“I don’t know. Do you enjoy expecting the worst of me?”

Alex kicks his heels against the side of the crate. “We made out under the UFOs for ten minutes, and then you went to wait at The Crashdown until my shift ended. If that’s the most romantic thing that’s ever happened in this town, the population should be dwindling. People should be fleeing.”

“I wanted to wait with you,” Michael reminds him. “You wouldn’t let me into the booth.”

“I was trying to be subtle.”

Michael rolls his eyes. “There was nothing subtle about that eyeliner. Or the nose ring.”

“You didn’t mind.”

“No,” Michael says. “I didn’t.”

Alex turns towards him, still mostly a silhouette, and licks his lips.

“No,” he breathes. “You didn’t.”

A beat passes between them, and Michael’s breath catches in his chest as the realization settles over his shoulders like a heavy blanket. Alex loves him. He’s suddenly surer of it than anything else in his life, and heat rushes to his cheeks. It should be a pleased flush from his racing heart, but his stomach twists with misery as he stares at Alex’s shadowed face. Alex loves him. Alex has always loved him, maybe, for reasons neither of them can fully explain. They could have been happy. If things had just been a little different, they could have been happy.

The light disappears suddenly as Alex’s phone dies.

Michael stares out into the dark to where he knows Alex is, and then he lets his eyes drift shut just long enough to steel himself.

“I guess that’s our cue,” Alex sighs.

“Yeah, I think I’m parked next to a hydrant,” Michael says, clearing his throat as he slips off the crate. He rolls his shoulders, trying to settle the rippling tension radiating down his back, and then holds out a hand to help Alex back to his feet. “Can’t afford another ticket.”

“I thought you had an in with the deputies.” Alex dusts off the back of his jeans and then returns his hand to the crook of Michael’s arm as he adjusts his crutch. Michael figures it’s the steadiest influence he’s has ever had on Alex.

“We both know that was bullshit. Come on. Let’s try to get out of here without killing ourselves.”

Alex fists a hand into the back of Michael’s shirt as they pick their way through the dark, and Michael adjusts himself to the task of subtly moving obstacles out of their way without being able to see what he’s moving. They make it to the first exhibit room, less than a hundred feet from freedom, and then Alex loops his fingers loosely around Michael’s wrist.

“Guerin.”

The word is a whisper against the back of his neck, and the hand slips off his wrist and finds his hip instead. Alex curls his arm around Michael’s waist, and he presses himself forward until the lines of their bodies curve together seamlessly.

This part always comes so easily to them. It’s the rest that gets messy.

Alex nudges his nose against the knob at the base of Michael’s neck, and he splays his hand wide across the middle of Michael’s chest. Body flushing, Michael lets his eyes drift shut as he relaxes against Alex’s warmth. Alex inspires stillness in him that he imagines total peace is meant to feel like, but he knows it’s only the eye of a hurricane. The rest of the storm still rages around them.

“We can’t,” Michael exhales.

Pressing his mouth to the curve of Michael’s shoulder, Alex hums. “Why not?”

There are so many answers, all of them true.

He can imagine the seductive tilt of Alex’s head as he leans forward, and he can imagine the anxious hunch of his shoulders in the morning light as he slinks out of the Airstream before anyone notices where he spent the night. If Michael closes his eyes, he sees sweaty strands of Alex’s hair sticking to his forehead and spread out on a pillowcase as easily as he sees the angry sneer of disgust that will follow Michael laying his secrets bare.

The truth is that Michael is a coward. He won’t survive having and losing Alex again.

“Because I love you.”

Without the light from Alex’s phone, all they are to each other is shapes in the dark.

It’s fitting, considering how lost Michael feels navigating the foreign terrain of an emotion this elusive. Anger is easy. He’s seen enough anger manifested in front of him to know exactly what it is. It’s curled fists and free-flying hands and bared teeth and acidic vitriol that seeks out a person’s soft spots and eats away at the tender flesh until he’s crippled by it. It’s ugly and familiar. But Michael has never been loved. He doesn’t know what it’s supposed to look like. All he knows is that being with Alex makes him feel still. It changes the energy in the air, slows the vibrating chaos inside him, and splits him at his loosely-patched seams when it’s over.

He’s never said those words before.

“I love you,” Michael repeats into the dark, and he reaches down to cover Alex’s hand with his own. His scarred fingers ache as they twine. The bones don’t bend like they should, and most of the strength is gone, but this feels like the last chance he’ll get to hold Alex’s hand. Distantly, it occurs to him that this is also the first time he’s ever held Alex’s hand. “And it’s too easy to think it can still be like it was.”

Alex shuffles forward. “Guerin—”

When Alex finds out, he’ll hate Michael like he deserves.

Michael has never given a damn about the people of Roswell because they never gave a damn about him. A decade in foster care taught him that humans can’t be depended on for anything more than consistent disappointment. He survived just long enough to get himself out, and he did it without help from anybody. Then things went sideways, and then then things turned upside down, and then everything got blown to hell.

He spent the summer after senior year telling himself new truths. He repeated them like a mantra until they were fully incorporated into him. Katie Long was an asshole, just like her brother, and so was Jasmine. Rosa Ortecho was an on-and-off crackhead on a long road to nowhere. If not them on a slab in the morgue, then Isobel, Max, and himself on gurneys in a secret government facility, locked away somewhere nobody would hear them scream.

Reality is too terrible to bear if those aren’t his truths. That day, what he is became inextricably linked to what he did, and it can never be undone. There are no apologies to offer. Besides, it spiraled out towards disaster more horribly than any of them could have ever imagined, so even their apologies wouldn’t have mattered. There’s no forgiveness, no absolution, and he would do it again in a heartbeat, if given the choice. Sometimes that feels like the worst part.

Still, knowing that the people of Roswell would hate him for what he is and what he’s done doesn’t mean much. He’s had years to practice turning his own guilt inside out, and he doubts that public opinion would weigh too heavily on him. The more pressing concern has always been discovery, capture, and the inevitability of experimentation. Fear of being strapped to a table, of hearing Max and Isobel scream through a vivisection, the worst word he ever learned, is a more persuasive motivator than anything else.

But when Alex finds out, he’ll hate Michael like he deserves, and Michael will feel every ounce of it.

That, in itself, is all the evidence he needs to know that he isn’t a good man.

It’s unlikely that their DNA has corrupted them or that they carried murderous instincts halfway across the galaxy, but their hands are soaked in blood from what they did and they will leave fingerprints on everything they touch. Max may have found his way to that conclusion in a heap of self-pitying misery, but Michael hasn’t been able to find a flaw in his logic. Always terrified of being unloved, they have made themselves unlovable.

Alex has suffered plenty at the hands of people pretending to be good men. Michael can’t stomach being just another in a long line of betrayals. If the best Michael can do now is stay away, it should be enough to redeem some small part of him that remembers an Alex who just wanted to be safe.

“It doesn’t have to be what it was,” Alex finally says, voice unbearably soft. “It can be new.”

Michael pulls their hands up to his mouth and presses a kiss to the center of Alex’s palm.

One day, Alex will have to ask himself what it means to be loved by a monster. He will think back on every time that Michael touched him with softness and reverence and wonder what it means that someone so drenched in horror could look at him and want so desperately. If he asked, Michael would tell him that it means he embodies the best of what lesser men want for themselves: bravery, integrity, and an unyielding capacity for kindness. But Alex won’t ask. Instead, he’ll consider every time he walked away and wonder why he came back. He’ll scrub himself raw trying to get rid of an invisible stain. He’ll thank saints he barely believes in for the narrow miss of almost that Michael will cherish for the rest of his life.

“We can’t.”

“Guerin—”

Alex isn’t the type to beg, so Michael is entirely unprepared to feel the grip around his waist tighten in protest. He holds himself shock-still, terrified to hear what Alex will say to change his mind and what he’ll need to say to protect himself from it. But Alex doesn’t say anything else. He just squeezes his fingers around Michael’s gnarled hand and draws a long inhale through his nose.

Then, Alex lets go, and, for the first time, Michael is the one who runs.

#michael x alex #malex #malex fic #me: put it in the main rnm tag for the exposure #dark me: no #so normally i would stress about editing this for another three weeks but 1x09 already jossed it and it would probably be dumb after 1x10 #so here is 4.7k words of a thing i wrote #that i had to repost because this site was being annoying about the ao3 link #my fic

105 notes · View notes

100yearoldcomics · 2 years

Text

April 23, 1922 The Gumps by Sid Smith

TOP PANEL [ID: Andy Gump, in a chauffeur's outfit, sits behind the wheel of a very small car. Its rear end is propped up on a sawhorse and a rope is wrapped around the rear tires. The rope is tied to a hook at the other end drawn through the mouth of a large whale. Andy tows it onto shore. /end]

MAIN COMIC [ID: Andy stands happily on a dock in a lake with his son Chester. Both carry fishing poles, along with a bucket and an open tin can of worms. /end] Andy: Well, it's a nice spring morning, Chester. They ought to be biting pretty well. Had a rain yesterday. They always bite after a rain.

[ID: Andy overturns the bucket and sits on it while Chester sits on the other side of the dock. They both fish - we can see a few tiny minnows nibbling at the bait on Andy's hook. /end] Andy: This is about as exciting as a wake. I've been sitting here two hours and all I've got is a few mosquito bites. Haven't seen anything that looks like a fish.

[ID: A massive fish swims past Andy, startling him off his bucket. /end] Andy: Great Scott. Look at the excursion boat going up the river. That's the whale that swallowed Jonah.

[ID: Andy stands and tries to attract the fish's attention with his bait. /end] Andy: Here, fishy. What's your hurry? Look at the nice surprise I've got for you. Don't be afraid of it. Bite right down on it.

[ID: He pulls it through the water with his pole, the fish following fascinated behind. /end] Andy: If you're looking for worms, I have the finest bait in the creek. If you don't want that one, wait and I'll put another one on for you.

[ID: The fish swims off, having eaten the bait off Andy's hook, which he's yanked out of the water. It floats in the air, ineffective. /end] Andy: Aw, come on back and be a sport.

[ID: Andy attracts the fish with another worm. /end] Andy: Nice fishy. That's right, step right up. Don't be afraid. Just take one tiny weeny little bite.

[ID: The fish opens wide. Andy looks on, frantically excited. /end] Andy: Eh. Don't anybody make any noise. I've got 'im.

[ID: Chester yanks a tiny minnow out of the water with his pole. It flies over his head and lands atop Andy's, startling him, which scares the big fish away. /end] Chester: Whee! Look at the fish I caught!

[ID: Chester proudly shows off his catch to Andy. /end] Chester: Whoope! I caught a fish! Andy: Ow!

[ID: Andy grabs Chester by the back of his shirt and dangles him off the side of the dock. Chester's fish falls back into the lake. /end] Andy: Now, see what you did. You made me lose the biggest fish I ever saw. The next time, I'll leave you at home. That's what I'll do with you. Throw that little fish back. Chester: Yeow!

[ID: Chester walks off while Andy squats down on the dock with his arms akimbo, loudly complaining. /end] Andy: On the square. He was that long. I'll bet he weighed a hundred pounds. And I had him right in my hands and you drove him away.

#newspaper comics #vintage #history #1922 #the gumps #transcript available #1920s #tw: child abuse #fishing

0 notes

malxplrs · 6 years

Text

Haunters

Summary: You work in a haunted house with the twins and jealousy ensues.

A/N: This is a pretty shitty first part I’m not even going to lie .I haven’t had as much motivation from being sick so please forgive its shittiness. I’ll make it up to you with better chapters soon, cross my heart, that is if you want this continued.So please let me know what you think, and if you have any suggestions, my messages and asks are always open. Just don’t judge this one part on the rest of my writings haha. Love you all, you’re beautiful, thanks for reading! xoxo

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: None??!? Well, Cussing and Blood. It’s a haunted house.

The smell of sawdust filled my nostrils as I entered the old warehouse on Lynn Drive. I could hear the power tools working at cutting the last of the plywood needed to finish stabilizing the wall in the psych ward. I continued around the outside of the trail to the make-up room where I set my things on the countertop. Spinning one of the make-up chairs as I passed by, I stood inside the doorway to the costume room and poked my head inside.

“Gray? Are you in here?” I called out.

There was some commotion from the closet before Grayson emerged with costumes slung over his shoulder. He was wearing black basketball shorts that hung low on his hips and some old worn out sneakers. “Hey, y/n. You ready to clean this place up for opening night tomorrow?” He smiled.

“What do you think?” I laughed, motioning at my outfit. His hazel eyes swept over my body. He started at my old converse, and slowly lifted his gaze up my long, tan legs. He glanced over my paint riddled jean shorts and my old Motley Crue crop top. Grayson let his eyes linger on the bit of my exposed stomach embellished with a naval ring, before looking over my make-up free face, and messy bun.

“Absolutely not, you’re dressed way too fancy for this. I thought we agreed on old, worn clothes.” He laughed, giving me a playful wink before throwing the costumes on the floor. “You look like you’re going out for tea with the Queen.”

I snorted. “Yeah, if the Queen was completely blind and there was no one around to see me or take pictures.”

Grayson smiled before disappearing back into the closet. “So,” I started, plopping down on the old green couch. “Who all is here? And what do you guys need help with?”

Grayson threw more costumes out onto the floor before turning back to grab more. “Well, I’m on costume duty. I’m supposed to make sure all costumes are counted for and placed neatly on hangers for our new check out system. I think Ethan is helping Nick with the plywood, and Jocelyn is picking up trash. And for who all is here, I know for sure that Ethan, Nick, Jocelyn, Finley, and Brayden are. But I don’t know much. I haven’t been here long.” He finished throwing all the costumes out of the closet. I glanced at the huge pile as he sighed. “I guess you could help me, or find Jocelyn.”

“I think I’ll take a look around first. I’ll check back in soon though.”

Grayson nodded his head as he began sorting through the costumes. I walked back out into the warehouse and opened one of the trail doors. The junkyard room was dimly lit and smelled heavily of fresh paint. Careful not to touch anything, I walked the trail to the next few scenes before arriving in the roach hallway. I pushed the hidden door that let out to the middle of the two trails and took in the sight. Ethan was standing beside a sawhorse with his back to me and Nick was measuring a piece of plywood on the ground. Finley was sitting in the middle of the room with a bucket of fake blood next to her. She had her hands inside one of our dead body props, pulling out the removable intestines. I stepped through the doorway and let the door slam behind me.

All of them jumped and turned to face me.

“Jesus, you gave me a heart attack!” Finley exclaimed. She placed her blood soaked hand on her shirt over the place of her heart.

“That’ll be twenty dollars.” I said sticking my hand out.

Ethan beamed at me. “That joke never gets old! I’m glad you made it, y/n.” Finley rolled her eyes as Ethan made his way over to me. He was also wearing nothing but basketball shorts and worn sneakers. He wrapped his arms around me and lifted me off the ground.

“Gross! Put me down, Dolan!” I shrieked. Ethan laughed as he hugged me tighter. “Seriously, you’re covered in sweat!”

“That’s called hard work.” He laughed.

“Don’t listen to him y/n. He dumped a bottle of water on himself about ten minutes ago. He hasn’t been here long enough to sweat.” Nick said, placing another piece of plywood on the sawhorse. Ethan set me back on my feet.

“Way to make me look like a man, Nick.” Ethan said, making his way back to the saw. He flipped the switch and began sawing through the parts Nick had marked for him. Sawdust flew everywhere as he continued to cut. Finley hunched over her blood bucket to protect it from the wood shavings.

Once Ethan was done cutting the plywood, he switched the saw off and set it down. Nick unplugged it and instructed Ethan to place it back in its respective bag. They both began picking up the pieces of plywood they needed for the wall and started towards the trail. Ethan waited for Nick to lead the way, and as he passed by me he very obviously checked me out. My cheeks went red and I turned my face away, but not before catching a wink he threw my way.

“Y/l/n, can I get some help?” Finley asked.

“What’s up?” I walked over to her and sat beside her, crossing my legs.

“Do you mind?” She motioned towards her cigarette pack lying beside her. I picked the pack up and pulled a single cigarette out and reached over to place it between her lips. I grabbed her lighter and ignited it. She leaned her head over to place the cigarette over the flame. “Thanks doll.” She smiled with the cigarette between her teeth. “I didn’t want to get blood all over the whole pack.”

Finley was one of my favorite people who worked the haunt. She didn’t take anyone’s bullshit and always made sure recognition was given to those that deserved it. She was very beautiful with long, blonde hair that she currently had French braided into pigtails, and bright blue eyes. Her skin was tan and she had a light dusting of freckles on her cheeks and over the bridge of her nose. Finley was married to Nick and they were both usually in charge of making sure everything was running smoothly. She exhaled smoke and turned to look at me.

“So, Ethan huh?”

Instantly my face was bright red. “I’m sorry?”

“You heard me, spill it.” Finley watched me while she dipped the intestines into her blood bucket.

“There’s nothing to spill.”

“You’re a damn liar. I saw the look he just gave you. I thought we were friends?” Finley fake pouted.

“I am your friend. And there’s nothing to spill. Ethan and I are friends, just like I’m friends with you and Grayson.”

Finley pulled the blood soaked intestines from the bucket and slapped them on the prop. She turned to me again, her blue eyes searching my face. Finally, she shrugged and began placing the guts inside the prop.

“Whatever you say, Turtle.”

I smiled at the nickname. Finley loved everything that had to do with turtles. Her grandfather had taught her everything he knew about them and always referred to them as majestic and wise. She grew up with a grand love for them as she did for her grandfather as well. After I had met Finley, and we became very close, she began to refer to me as Turtle. I never once took it as an insult. If anything it always made me feel closer to her.

“I don’t have much for everyone to do. Pretty much everything is done. You can help me with bloodying up some props, or help Grayson sort costumes.” Finley said, glancing over my shoulder. Ethan had returned to grab extra screws and nails for the plywood. He glanced over at us and smiled. I was grateful she changed the subject.

I smiled back at Ethan, then turned to face Finley. “I can help Gray out and once were finished, if you still need me, I can help with the rest of the props.” I suggested.

“Sounds great.” She ripped more guts from another prop out, tossing them in the bucket. “Ask him to make a list of costumes that need to be replaced, so I can send Jocelyn to pick them up once she’s done running trash.”

“Yes ma’am.” I stood from my place on the ground and began the walk back to the costume room.

Grayson had barely made a dent in the pile of costumes when I returned.

“Please tell me you’re here to help me.” He pouted.

“Nope, grabbing my things and heading out, just wanted to say bye.” I smirked.

“ARE YOU SERIOUS?!” He groaned. “There’s no way I’m going to finish this by tonight.”

I laughed. “I’m just kidding. I’m here to help.”

I sat beside him and he nudged my shoulder with his. “You’re an asshole.”

Smiling, we both began sorting through all the costumes, throwing away the old tattered ones, and hanging up the ones that could be re-used. I kept up with the lists of the ones that would need a replacement, since no one could ever read Grayson’s sloppy boy writing. Even though his handwriting was shit, Grayson was still one of my favorite people. I had known him and Ethan since toddler age. Our moms were best friends throughout high school and college and continued their friendship through us kids. We all had a bond that no one could break.

Opening the door to the warehouse the next day, I could hear the chatter from all the actors that had already arrived. I made my way around them and headed for the make-up room. A few actors I recognized from the year before and a few new faces stood out. I smiled and greeted most of them as I passed by.

The make-up room was full of people, most in costume already. I searched the crowd for some familiar faces before spotting the twins and making my way to them. They were standing by the whiteboard that had the entire list of actors name on it, with the role they would be playing for the night, written beside it. I walked up behind them and searched the list.

“Looks like I’ll be taking over the hospital scene again this year.” Both boys turned and smiled at me.

“You’re not the only one in the hospital this year.” Grayson replied. I looked up at the list again and found their names close to mine.

“I stand corrected. Looks like Ethan is leading lady.” Grayson laughed and Ethan rolled his eyes. Beside my name ‘padded cell patient’ was written. Ethan’s name had ‘head nurse’ and Grayson’s had ‘distraction/victim’.

“I’m just happy to not be a clown again this year.” Ethan said.

“I’m pretty excited to see y/n in action. Last year we were both stuck in the clown maze and didn’t get a chance to see you perform. You must be extremely creepy to continuously win actor of the night every night.” Grayson said.

“I’m just good at what I do.” I shrugged.

“Whatever. I’ll be taking that title from you. So don’t expect hearing your name tonight at the meeting.” Ethan smiled.

A few hours later and we were all in place in our respective scenes. There were only a few minutes left till the haunt opened and we were going through our last minute run through. I squeezed into the “boo hole” which was actually just an actor pocket, to watch Ethan in action. He was the first person you would see upon entering the hospital scene. From this actor pocket, you could actually watch anyone from any scene within the hospital; it also allowed you to enter multiple rooms without interacting with the patrons.

I stepped up to the door to Ethan’s room and watched through the peephole. He was standing behind the desk holding a clipboard. The door to his room opened as Finley and Nick walked in. Ethan burst into action welcoming them to the room. He threw his clipboard across the room and ran right up to Finley and got in her face. He said something inaudible and Finley looked uncomfortable as Nick laughed. They continued through his room, as Ethan stayed in character giving them a hundred and ten percent. As soon as they crossed the threshold into the next room, Ethan made his way to the door I was looking through. I moved out of his way as he opened the door.

“Were you watching me?” He smirked.

“I have to check out the competition don’t I?” I answered him, watching through the bars of the next room as Grayson spewed blood from his mouth and dropped to the floor convulsing. As they were focused on him, another actor was able to sneak up on them and jump scare them. Finley took off down the hall, making her way to my room.

“Now watch how a real professional does things.” I laughed as Ethan crossed his arms. I squeezed through the opening in the wall and back into my room. In the top corner above the exit door to my scene was a strobe light. I stood underneath it as I let my eyes adjust to the flashing. The entrance door opened and Nick entered before Finley. I watched them as they wearily walked in, looking around the room for me.

“You better be in here Turtle.” Finley yelled out. I turned away from them and dropped back into a back bend. Quickly, I crawled across the floor backwards before stopping at her feet. I popped back up and whispered in Finley’s ear disturbing things I had picked up from little kids in horror movies. As she began to shy away from me, I stood up straight and threw my head back and screamed a blood curdling scream. Both Nick and Finley made their way to the exit as quickly as they could, but before they reached the door, I took off running full speed and slammed my entire body into the wall beside them.

“You’re so fucking creepy.” Nick commented as they walked out. “Keep it up.”

I picked myself up off the floor and turned to see Grayson and Ethan watching me. Grayson slow clapped as Ethan raised an eyebrow.

“I see.” Was all he said before returning to his scene.

“Good job.” Grayson hugged me. “No wonder you won every night. Let’s just hope Ethan doesn’t murder someone to top your act.” He laughed.

Before I could respond, the animatronic in the grave yard went off signaling a group of patrons were coming. Grayson ran back to his place and I returned to the door of Ethan’s room. I always liked watching the groups coming through so that I could get a good feel of who was already terrified. It made it easier to find your target. The door opened and another actor walked in.

“False alarm, sorry E. I accidentally set off Coffin Dave.” The kid said. I opened the door to Ethan’s room as the kid returned to the graveyard.

“Get used to that.” I told Ethan, sitting on his desk.

“False alarms?”

“Yeah, they happen a lot in graveyard, it’s usually where they put the newer kids, and most of them don’t know where the censors for their animatronics are. The sure fire way of knowing if there’s a group is hearing their victim scream.”

“Makes sense.” Ethan replied. He looked over at me and ran his hand through his hair. Neither of us said a word as we listened to Coffin Dave go off again.

The door to his room opened and Ethan turned back. Suddenly, he exploded into character and caught me off guard. I hadn’t heard the graveyard victim scream, and my back was to the door. Patrons had entered the room and I was stuck here until they left. Trying to think of what to do, improvisation being a main skill, I began mumbling things to myself about dismantling a body. I tangled my hands in my hair and rocked back and forth before laughing maniacally.

Suddenly, Ethan was in my face. “I TOLD YOU TO STAY IN YOUR CELL!” Ethan screamed at me. I went to get up but Ethan’s hand closed around my throat. Panicked, I grabbed his fore arm and tried to pull him off. His grip loosened and he pulled me off the desk and towards him. “Just go with it.” He whispered before pushing me up against the wall. “DO YOU KNOW WHAT HAPPENS TO PATIENTS WHO DON’T LISTEN?!” He brought his face close to mine. I could feel my whole body beginning to tingle. I had never seen Ethan like this, and I kind of like it.

“ANSWER ME!” His breath fanned across my face as he yelled.

“The Doctor will see me now.” I giggled as he ‘threw’ me to the hidden door. The patrons left his room and I raised an eyebrow at him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to hurt you but it’s the first thing I thought of and-“

“Hey you have to do what you have to do, no biggie.” I said rushing back to my room yelling for Brayden.

Brayden met me in my room just before the patrons entered. I filled him in briefly on what happened in Ethan’s room and he instructed me to sit on the ground and grab his fore arm and put all my weight on it like I was trying to pull him down. “Trust me” he whispered. He was our new doctor this year.

I did as I was told and the door to my room opened. Brayden grabbed a fistful of my hair and began to drag me across the room. Thankfully, my grip on his fore arm made it more so that he was dragging me by hand than hair. I began to scream loudly and writhe as much as I could.

Brayden grunted and fought with me to make it seem more authentic. He threw me into the corner and started up a hand held power tool. Careful not to actually touch me with it, though it wouldn’t have done anything anyways being a prop, he pretended to drill into my head as I screamed then slouched over playing dead. Brayden turned to the group.

“WHO’S NEXT!” He yelled running towards them. They all shrieked and began running to the exit.

For the next couple of hours, we all continued to do our own routines and get our scares. I made up an imaginary friend to play with in my room, and it was completely creeping people out. Since it was a pretty slow night, as most opening nights are, we all took turns debuting in other actors scenes. My favorite being Ethan’s, in hopes of catching the same feeling from earlier.

Grayson, Ethan and I were all sat at Ethan’s desk telling jokes and laughing about the best scares of our night so far. I had my legs stretched over Grayson’s lap and his hand was resting on my thigh, absentmindedly his thumb stroked small circles over my scrub pants. Ethan had made a face at the whole display, one he didn’t think I would notice. It consisted mostly of jealousy, and a little of longing.

I was pretty confused by the look all night, considering we were all close friends. Why would he be jealous, I sat like that with Gray all the time. Sometimes I even sat that way with Ethan, as he would usually do the same routine with his thumb. As I was lost in thought, Finley busted into the room at a quick pace.

“LAST GROUP EVERYONE, GIVE IT YOUR ALL!” She yelled making her way through the trail. Grayson gently moved my legs off of him as he stood.

“I need to grab some more blood for my last spew of the night.”

“Ew.”

“Shut up, you think it’s cool.” He smiled.

“I don’t know where you got that idea, but I definitely don’t think that. Although, it is amusing that it’s stained your teeth a pretty pink.” Grayson blushed under his make-up.

“It comes off when I brush my teeth.” He tried shrugging nonchalantly.

“Boo. I think it’s hilarious.” I teased.

“You’re the worst.” He smirked, leaving the room.

“The best of the worst!” I called after him.

Ethan watched me. His brows were furrowed together like he was deep in thought.

“You okay E?”

“Yeah,” silence. And then, “so are you and Grayson going to get married already or what?”

I choked on my spit. “Excuse me?”

“You two are always flirting. It’s obvious you like each other. Why not say the ‘I Do’s’ and make out already?” He scoffed.

My eyes were wide. “We’re not flirting Ethan, we’re just friends, like me and you.”

“Seemed a little more ‘friendly’ than usual tonight, all hugged up on my desk and everything.”

“Where is this coming from? Are you sure you’re okay? Are you hydrated? Cause it’s pretty hot in here and I don’t know if that’s what’s causing this mood swing but I’m not going to sit her and let you mock me like that. Especially not Grayson when he’s not here to defend himself.” Coffin Dave went off in the graveyard.

Ethan glanced towards the door. “I’m fine. Completely fine. You two on the other hand.”

“Us two what? Go ahead, say what you really want too.” My blood was boiling at this temper tantrum that he was throwing. He had to be dehydrated or hallucinating if he thought Gray and I were flirting.

Ethan nervously glanced back at the door again, expecting it to open any second. I couldn’t care any less, now angry that I had to deal with this. All night he had been fine, normal Ethan, funny Ethan. All that disappeared twenty minutes ago when I sat with Gray on the desk.

“Let’s hear it Ethan. Tell me what you really think.” I said again, we both heard the graveyard victim scream.

Ethan turned and faced me. Visibly he took a deep breath. “I’m just jealous, okay. I’m jealous how he can sit with you like that and not care.”

“What the actual fuck are you talking about? I sit with you like that too!”

“But it’s different.” Another glance at the door.

“Enlighten me, how?”

“It just is.”

“Ethan!”

“BECAUSE I’M IN LOVE WITH YOU!” He shouted as the door opened. My jaw dropped.

#Ethan Dolan #Grayson Dolan #Ethan and Grayson Dolan #Ethan and Grayson #Ethan Dolan Smut #Grayson Dolan Smut #Ethan Dolan Imagine #grayson dolan imagine #Ethan Grant Dolan #Grayson Bailey Dolan #Dolan Twins #Dolan Twins Fandom #First Chapter #Grayson and Ethan Fic #Grayson Fic #Ethan Fic

193 notes · View notes

bluemountainview · 4 years

Photo

2020-05-23: Ceiling demolition, fires, and bottom plates

We drove up on Saturday expecting to frame the shed over the weekend, but we decided on the way up that we would spend some time removing some of the more rotten ceiling panels in the hope that the rodents wouldn’t be able to live in the ceiling anymore. How wrong we were! But in any case, J spent the better part of the day cleaning up and bleaching the mess of rotting insulation and poop that fell from the ceiling.

My first priority was setting up a workbench for the miter saw using the sawhorses I built and brought up the previous weekend. We salvaged some decent and long 2x6s from the junk pallet pile and we had ourselves a work surface.

Next, the concrete pad had to be cleared, which meant the water storage tank needed to be moved elsewhere. We drained it one bucket at a time into the toilet to get some water into the septic system, and also to not flood our work area. We ended up moving the tank up the hill about 20 ft. from where it was on the pad.

The existing concrete pad had rusted anchor bolts sticking up that needed to be removed. The previous week I managed to buy an angle grinder from Harbor Freight for $10, and it did the job just fine.

We also set up a small burn pile to gain some experience with clearing away defensible space and seeing how to burn yard trimmings. A neighbor down the road stopped by last weekend and mentioned that the pervasive ground cover “mountain misery” burns readily. He was certainly not wrong. Despite raking clear a 10 ft. clearing for the fire, the remaining roots in the dirt burned just fine despite being still parts of living plants. A lot of stamping and raking was needed to keep the fire under control. In the end, it took a few hours to burn a few cubic feet of dead branches down to smoldering mess, which seemed to want to continue burning despite having water poured on it.

As the daylight started to fade, we set up the tent inside and prepared dinner (steaks and potatoes, I believe). This was also our first test of the LED lights that came with the solar panel kit, which work surprisingly well given the quality of the product overall (the charge controller for the deep cycle marine battery is not to be trusted to do its job properly).

After dinner, we decided to try out the wood stove, so we gathered some tinder and scraps from the junk heap outside to start a fire. It seems that we really don’t know how to use a wood stove, since for the longest time, we left the doors open and the fire was smoky and did not burn well. At some point we gave up and were ready to call it a night, so we closed the doors. Not a minute later I saw the coals were glowing with a raging fire going inside. Apparently the air flow works out better with the doors closed and the door vents open.

What followed was the most unsettling night thus far (as of this writing). Despite opening up the ceiling (or perhaps because of it), the rodents seemed even more active during the night. Many times during the night we heard squeaks, squeals, and what seemed like outright fighting between mice or rats. We could clearly hear them scurrying about, and gnawing on things. Various bits of insulation and acorns were knocked loose in the night and fell on the floor near the tent. The worst part was actually seeing a rat running in an open part of the ceiling, along with carpenter ants falling down from the opening. Even the dog was terrified and wanted nothing to do with the commotion, even though normally he’s all about chasing rodents in trash heaps. 0/10 would not recommend.

Next up: framing!

0 notes

thesuperpainter · 4 years

Text

Signs That Your Home's Interior Needs A New Paint Job Things To Know Before You Get This

Table of ContentsThe 8-Second Trick For 2020 Interior Painting Costs - Average Cost To Paint A RoomThe Main Principles Of How Much Should It Cost To Paint The Interior Of A 3000 Sq Foot ... Facts About Interior House Painters Denver - Residential Painting Contractor UncoveredUnknown Facts About How Often Should I Paint The Interior Of My Home?Excitement About Lessons Learned While Painting An Entire House - A Beautiful ...

youtube

Spills and spatters take place, regardless of how mindful you are. It's a lot easier to pre- pare for them than to wipe them out of your carpets or off your wood floor later on. All it takes is canvas drop cloths in your workspace (a 4-ft. x 15-ft. fabric costs $15).

Plastic drop cloths are slippery to stroll on or set a ladder on and do not remain in place. Even even worse, paint spills on plastic stay wet, and they can wind up on your shoes and get tracked through the home. Canvas is slippery on difficult oors, so rosin paper ($ 10 for 400 sq.

in the house centers) is better over vinyl, tile and tough- wood. Tape the sheets together and to the oor to supply a nonslip surface area. But even with canvas or rosin-paper drop cloths, large spills still require to get wiped up immediately or they'll permeate through. Tidy spills with paper towels or fabric rags.

The Definitive Guide to How Often Should You Paint Your House - The Digest

The finish of your paint, or shine, will have a significant impact on your walls. Gloss, satin, egg shell with these options comes many considerations. High-traffic areas succeed with gloss or satin as they hold up much better to touching and can be cleaned up more easily. But, they can make wall flaws (wavy drywall, covered areas) a lot more pronounced.

Don't fear the vibrant colors! Select colors that add depth and texture to a room. Comprehend the psychology of color and utilize it to your benefit. A relaxing color, such as one in the blue household, is terrific for a bedroom. No requirement to guess how excellent (or bad) a color will search your wall.

This will help you evaluate how a color will search a larger area much better than an example can offer. It's much better to spend just a couple of dollars on a sample than big bucks on gallons only to learn the color won't work. Of course, you'll need to understand the overall location you're going to paint (include up all the square video footage of your walls, consisting of alcoves and dormers, plus a little extra), however you'll likewise need to represent multiple coats, guide and the porosity of the walls.

All about Interior Painters - Wow 1 Day Painting

Preparation work will be the vast bulk of your time spent painting the interior of your house - interior paint on sale this week. You'll require to tape off areas for sharp lines, move furnishings and home furnishings, repair work and spot any imperfections, protect the floors, and eliminate things like switch plates and doorknobs. A minimum of three-quarters of your time will be invested doing these jobs.

Guide not only covers up colors and stains, it also includes a layer to allow the top coat of paint to much better adhere, providing you a far better result. interior paint on sale this week. Cutting in (painting at corners and edges) enables smoother work when utilizing rollers or bigger brushes. Trying to do this after painting larger locations will develop irregular lines.

A roller may need more devices (handles, poles, rollers) than brushes, but you can get more carried out in less time with them. Keep in mind to paint in an overlapping "W" to improve coverage and ravel roller lines. While you'll need ladders for cutting in and detail work at heights, an extension pole contributed to a roller will save you a lot more time.

Some Known Details About Winter Is The Best Time To Paint Your Interior - Ricciardi Brothers

This is called boxing, and it will assist you prevent any inconsistencies in the color of your paint protection. Simply put numerous gallons into a larger, resealable bucket, and stir thoroughly. Yes, today's mixing processes are far more consistent than in the past, but this step is a fail-safe measure simply in case there was a small error when the paint was mixed at the house center.

Painting the interior of your house, or simply a space, is among the simplest and most affordable ways to renew, refurnish or restore the appearance of a house. When you paint a room, here's the order in which you ought to apply paint:1. the ceiling2. walls3. mouldings and casings4.

window trimsTools and products you'll need:- Drop sheets- Hammer - Paintbrushes- Painter's tape- Paint applicators (pads)- Paint roller- Paint roller tray- Rollers- Roller tray liner- Sandscrapper- Sawhorses- Slotted screwdriver- Taping Knife- Telescopic pole- Paint- Cling wrap- Primer- Soap or Solvent for oil-based paint - Trisodium phosphate (TSP) - Wood filler or patching compoundDiscover the restoration professional within thanks to The Workshop.

Getting The How Often Should You Paint Your House - The Digest To Work

Some activities make the need to repaint your house more obvious than others do: Cleaning off the food the little one tossed at the wall, realizing the art piece your in-laws offered you clashes terribly with your wall color, the chip or dent in the entrance from a luggage years ago, the light striking the living-room ideal these are all indications that it's time to repaint your interior.

For homeowners in the Stanley area of North Carolina and would like more information on how to paint your home of if you want to hire a painter go to Stanley Interior House Painter to get tips or a quote to paint your home.>

#interior painters #house painters #painting companies #stanley north carolina

0 notes

kittyyzma · 4 years

Text

concrete screws: It's Not as Difficult as You Think

The concrete operational stage is the 3rd stage of growth of a youngster’s thinking that occurs about concerning the ages of 6 and twelve (Jean Piaget’s Stage Theories, n.

Regional retail outlet rates could vary from These shown. Solutions shown as readily available are Typically stocked but inventory concentrations can't be assured

Occasionally, paint might take approximately 24 hrs to dry entirely. Which is why it is important to present you ample time to finish the painting course of action.

"I only want To achieve this task when. Thanks for telling me how to do it appropriately." LR Lilia Ravalo

Using a modest spade or bucket, pour the concrete into the mold, urgent and compacting it as you fill the mold to some depth of about 1 inch or midway comprehensive. Set the galvanized wire to the concrete, taking care that it does not touch the perimeters from the mold. The wire will hold the concrete from cracking mainly because it dries and it'll also incorporate strength. Carry on to fill the mold along with the wire, tamping the concrete having a trowel, when you go along to guarantee it is effectively-packed. Your objective is always to marginally overfill the mold. The extent of concrete will fall a little inside the mould because it settles. Smooth the concrete surface that has a hand trowel. This may attract the aggregates to the very best. To settle the concrete, use an orbital sander with no sandpaper against the sides of your mildew. The vibrations can help convey air bubbles while in the concrete up into the surface area. When finished, Carefully cover the countertop using a sheet of plastic or moist burlap to protect it from dust and Dust. Let the concrete overcome not less than weekly—the greater it cures, the more robust it will get.

Specified for use in residential and light to moderate site visitors professional locations. Oil, gasoline, alkali and water-proof. Normally used by minimal tension spray, but rolling and brushing can be used for little locations.

There are actually differing types of admixtures that are applied to provide specific properties. Admixtures or additives such as pozzolans or superplasticizers are A part of the combination to Increase the physical Homes with the moist combine or maybe the finished substance.

Anyone who employs your calculator ought to enter an electronic mail handle or telephone number. We’ll send you an e mail report with Call information each time your calculator is utilised.

The ideal concrete Charge calculator is to phone the local redi-blend concrete organization and ask the plant supervisor what their Charge per cubic lawn of concrete is delivered to your home or task.

youtube

The concrete countertops On this kitchen have been hand troweled. The island On this kitchen established the perfect opportunity to inlay a singular style and design element, an integral towel bar. We chose brushed steel for this inlay which was Forged into the form. See extra shots from this contractor >>

Simply just go across the total sort and Carefully faucet on the sides and base to carry the bubbles on the surface. You'll need to spend a bit of time in just about every place to guarantee that they occur up. Because they do, you will see a bubble(s) mature until eventually they pop. These can then be re-floated to fill and easy them.

This charcoal coloured concrete countertop options a few copper inlays that function a trivet or hot plate. See far more photographs from this contractor >>

This standard and really practical kitchen area capabilities 2 inch thick brick pink concrete countertops. An integral drain board was cast in the countertop. The backsplash and window sill can also be cast concrete in the exact same brick purple coloration. See much more shots from this contractor >>

Commence to complete 2+ Times Instruments sandpaper sawhorses table noticed concrete stamp bolt cutters chemical resistant protecting gloves drill orbital sander concrete mixer Clearly show All Products beeswax 2x4s liquid release agent galvanized structural stucco wire eye security muriatic acid three/4-inch melamine-coated MDF boards two" screws Prepared-combine concrete release agent masonry sealer silicone caulk Demonstrate All Such as this? Here’s more:

0 notes

lady-stardust-rv · 7 years

Photo

Tony Visconti on mixing Diamond Dogs

David and I were reunited socially after «The Man Who Sold The World» split up Hype (Woody Woodmansey, Mick Ronson, and myself) in 1970. The ice was broken in 1973, when David and Angie invited my wife, Mary Hopkin, and I to see the Peter Cook and Dudley Moore show ‘Behind The Fridge’ in the West End. We were on speaking terms again and kept up our renewed friendship via phone and the occasional visit to his flat in Chelsea.

One day I got a phone call from David saying he was frustrated mixing his new self-produced album. He had tried all the best studios in town with poor results, could I recommend one? As it happened I was just putting the finishing touches on my first professional home studio in Hammersmith, the first of many. It had a Trident console, Klein and Hummel monitor speakers along with the ubiquitous Auratones (we called Horrortones) and a big selection of professional outboard gear including a very new thing, a stereo digital delay by a relatively new company called Eventide. I was already putting it through its paces and the results were stunning. My family and I didn’t yet live in the three-story terraced house, it was empty except for the studio on the ground floor.

“Well, David, I have just built this little gem of a studio in my new home. Come here and try it out.” David was over like a shot before I could tell him I didn’t even have studio furniture. I had been sitting on sawhorses left behind by the carpenters and that’s what David had to sit on too if he wanted to mix right away. Oh, if I only had a photo of that! David arrived with a 2” 16-track tape and I had the tracks up on the console in to time. I can’t remember exactly what song it was, but it was probably the song “Diamond Dogs”, a very complicated track, but David said most of them were.

The first thing I notices was that the band wasn’t recorded well, especially the drums, which was so important in those days and still is. It’s a shame such a great album started as a salvage job – if an album is recorded well then mixing is a piece of cake. I rolled my sleeves up and did the best I could. After many hours we finished in the early hours of the morning. David asked for a copy on reel-to-reel tape and I made one from the stereo master mix, coping it onto one of my three stereo Revox records. Unfortunately the one I used still had the vari-speed switched on, something I didn’t notice at 4 AM. At 5 AM I got a phone call from David asking what happened, it sounded way too fast? I said I’ll make a new one right away and by 5:30 AM David sent a car to pick it up. A final call from him confirmed that he loved the mix and asked if we could carry on mixing the album the next day. I slept on a mattress on the floor and woke up around midday with the only thought of getting the studio ready for David’s arrival. I Thought I must do something about those sawhorses but I really didn’t have the time. Early afternoon a big Habitat van pulled up and delivered two swivel chairs for the control room and a complete dining room set, with a table, chairs, cutlery, glasses, cups, napkins and a wine bucket. I was flabbergasted.

He was moving in! I thanked him profusely when he arrived and we got on with mixing the next track. When we got hungry David had his office send an entire meal with wine and he and I had a very civilized meal in the other room. This became our daily ritual for the rest of the mixing sessions.

The digital delay fascinated David. We were applying it to backing vocals, guitar solos, drum fills and several other elements. With David anything goes. I Knew this was a future shock themed album and I worked out many ways to make things sound shocking when necessary. Probably the most radical thing we did with the Eventide was after I explained to David that the digital delay could sample and store sounds, then I gave him a demonstration. The Sampler and its cousins, the Harmonizer, the Instant Flanger, the Instant Phaser, were the first digital devices that changed the music of the late 70’s dramatically. David asked if I could capture the word ‘brother’ at the end of the last track, ‘Chant Of Tge Circling Skeletal Family’ and repeat it ad infinitum. Of course I could, but lo and behold, that short word was too long for the puny memory banks in the machine. Storage was very limited in those days. So I managed to capture just ‘bro’ with a snare drum hit and that actually sounded amazing, like a robot with A.I. that was not working very well singing it.

‘Diamond Dogs’ was probably David’s most radical album to date. It was very different from anything he’d done, it was the first self-produced album too. He played almost all the guitar on the album except for the ‘Rebel Rebel’ riff. Between us we conjured up sounds no one had ever heard or used before. It was the beginning of many new recording adventures I shared with my old friend, lasting until the present day.

Tony Visconti (May 2016)

#david bowie #tony visconti #diamond dogs #70s

10 notes · View notes

theglasscat · 7 years

Text

This is a peaceful interlude/one shot type chapter I wrote last year for my slowly updating otherwise angst-turned-slowburn Oz fic from A03, which I wanted to post on this fine August 21.

The Princess falls into a routine that she finds much more suitable. Monday through Friday is for court and affairs of state. Saturday is for any unfinished business that may have been left unattended. Sunday (and maybe part of Saturday if there’s any left over) is reserved solely for visiting friends, reading books in the libraries, or perhaps just enjoying the sun on one of the benches in the royal gardens. Ozma has taken a particular liking to helping Jack Pumpkinhead tend to his plot of land out in the Winkie Country.

Ozma likes the feeling of her hands in the dirt and how the ground gives when her boots steps on the head of the shovel. She likes how easily the fruit comes off the vine this time of year. She likes the yellow and orange tomatoes with their sweet tangy smell and fine fine hairs that glitter in the sunlight. She really likes the yellow squash, the tubular kind and the flat round ones with ridges that look like pie tins with their tiny spiky hairs all over, that ooze clear green liquid from the stem as soon as its cut. There’s a little corn but Ozma knows that Jack doesn’t grow much of it out of respect to the Scarecrow, who is very proud of the vast cornfields surrounding his newly built tower mansion. Along the roads yellow pears are falling down from trees into buckets and the very first of the yellow apples are beginning to fruit. Ozma asks Jack if he remembers the blackberries that would grow in thick brambles around Mombi’s house this time of year, but Jack replies that he was much too young and too busy fearing for his life at the time to notice.

Ozma remembers Jack being terribly annoying when they were both younger- so to speak- but now she appreciates his steady presence. Jack doesn’t demand a lot, aside from help keeping his head on straight from time to time, but that’s easily remedied. He’s happy to provide polite conversation, or to work in silence, or sometimes just to hum a strange little song to himself as he prunes and pinches. After the garden work is done and the harvest is set in baskets for the market (for Jack never uses any of his crops aside for the pumpkins, either for a new head or the occasional house repair) the two will sit on the porch and chat. If the Sawhorse is with Ozma he will come over and join the conversation too and the three will laugh about the adventures they’ve had or apologize for something trivial someone said the week before.

Sometimes Ozma will visit the Scarecrow, who always has something witty to say, or Nick Chopper, who always has something kind to say, or even the Wogglebug, who always has something brilliantly pompous to say, but Sunday night she will ride back to the palace and start the week anew.

- - -

One week during this summer harvest season Jack disappears completely. Ozma asks about for him, still avoiding the usage of the Magic Picture. Eureka informs her that he’s gone on some sort of quest and Ozma asks no more about it, but does hope that he will be back in time for her birthday.

Sure enough, the next time the Princess sees Jack Pumpkinhead is when he stumbles rather haphazardly into the banquet hall not ten minutes late with his clothes quite torn and his pumpkin head all scratched up. He refuses to say a word of his adventures until dessert is served.

When Ozma sees that her birthday cake is decorated with deep purple blackberries and there is blackberry ice cream to go with it, she bursts from her seat at the head of the table to hug her old friend and promises that she will personally carve him a new head as soon as she can.

#oz #princess ozma #jack pumpkinhead #fan fiction #my writing #fic #oz fic

2 notes · View notes

athingofvikings · 7 years

Text

Chapter 4: The Scottish Play

Previous Chapter | Summary | Table Of Contents Main | Next Chapter

Chapter 4: The Scottish Play

The political landscape that Haddock and his tribe found themselves thrust into was one marked by extensive conflict and political fragmentation. The most significant power in Europa, beyond that of the Catholic Church, was the Holy Roman Empire, under Henry III, and it was undergoing a period of consolidation, and the Byzantine Roman Empire, which was likewise experiencing an era of decay in the aftermath of the death of the Emperor Basil the Younger in 1025 CE. Otherwise, there were few extensive centralized powers; even those rulers who could claim significant domains, such as the Kievan Rus', consisted of tribal or feudal confederations that were not politically unified beyond the person of their sovereign.

—Corpus Historiae Berkiae, 1396

A month later, Stormfly was well on the mend in the the dragon stables—and being antsy about not being able to fly with her wound. Of course, with the weather having been foul as normal, most of the dragons were staying inside where they could, but she'd been distinctly unhappy during the nicer days when all of the other dragons could go flying, and Astrid had spent a great deal of time in the stables with her as a result. Which, of course, also meant that Hiccup and Toothless were spending a great deal of time there as well, between the various construction projects that Hiccup was overseeing. And with one thing leading to another…

Stormfly had been through five saddle designs in the last month, each progressively fancier than the last. And she was absolutely delighted to try on any and all accessories that Astrid and Hiccup could think of, prancing about in front of all of the other Nadders and showing off what her rider and her rider's boyfriend were making for her.

Which mean that now Astrid and Hiccup were in the smithy, with Gobber working nearby… and acting as chaperon for the two of them.

Astrid was sitting off to the side, her fur cloak discarded and hanging on a peg, the warmth of the forge seeping into her bones. Hiccup was at the anvil, pounding away at a piece for Stormfly's new saddle. A piece of foolscap with Hiccup's tidy scrawl lay nearby, detailing out measurements that he had taken.

"Astrid, could you get me my notebook from the back, please?" he asked, as he shifted to smaller and smaller hammers. "I need to check my designs for this."

A smile on her face, she hopped off the bench as Hiccup returned the metal bracket to the forge to bring the metal back up to temperature. He waved, his brow dripping with sweat, and she returned a wider grin before slipping into the back. It was crowded back here, filled with Hiccup's designs and experiments, and seemed to be organized based on the "is there an open spot?" method. A basket of stone rings lay on the workbench, with pots of brushes and woodcarving tools next to it.

She let her fingers wander over the shelves. A variety of Hiccup's experiments at creating war machines done at the scale of toys occupied the top shelf, which he called "prototyping", while papers were stacked on the top. The shelf below had painting supplies and his notebooks, which she pulled off of the shelf, trying to figure out which of the several were the one that he was looking for.

"Hiccup, which one is it?" she called out to the main room.

"Uh, the short one, I think!"

She looked back at the books. One was taller, and the rest were roughly the same height.

"That didn't narrow it down much!"

"Uh," he said as the sound of hammering resumed, "Hang on a second." And there was a quick flurry of hammering and then a pause.

"Sorry Astrid," he said sheepishly. "I've got it. It was in my pocket."

She stuck her head out the door to the main room, eyebrow raised, as Gobber chortled.

"Really?"

"Yeah, sorry," he said, giving a sickly grin.

She rolled her eyes. "I swear, Hiccup, you would forget your own head if it wasn't attached."

"Not true!" he said back with a grin. "I haven't managed to get anywhere without this," pointing at his left foot.

She grimaced. "Uh…" and the levity of the moment died. "Sorry, I didn't mean…"

He frowned. "Oh, uh, sorry, Astrid. I wasn't offended. Don't worry." With a sheepish grin, he indicated the book on the anvil with his chin. "Could you…"

Her smile slowly returning, she walked back out into the main forge area as he used a little hammer to gently knock the small piece of metal into the proper shape of a bracket. She picked up the book and flipped through it until she found the page that Hiccup needed. Before turning it to show Hiccup, she took a moment to appreciate her boyfriend's genius brain.

All she had done was idly comment that she wished that she could carry her ax while riding Stormfly, and by the next day, he had designed a holster that would sit below the saddle and hold the ax head, with the ax shaft in easy reach of the saddle. It would keep Stormfly from being cut by the edge, while at the same time using the springy metal that Gobber used in his tong-hand to allow her to pull it free nearly instantly.

If, of course, it worked as well in real life as it did on paper.

She turned the book around to Hiccup, who squinted at his blueprints and made a minute adjustment with the small hammer before returning the bracket to the heat of the forge.

Toothless, who had been curled up nearby, clearly also appreciative of the heat of the forge, sat up, and walked over to the bellows, heaving the lever before Hiccup could move around to the wooden handles.

Astrid blinked. "He hasn't done that before."

"He does that every so often. I think he finds it cute. 'Look at people and their fire.' Also, he figured out that it gets it hotter, which he likes."

The thin metal heated quickly, and Hiccup removed it from the forge with the tongs once more, taking out a very small hammer from the rack to make his most minute adjustments while it glowed red hot. Toothless stood next to Astrid, both of them watching Hiccup work. Apparently satisfied with his final bits of work, he plunged it into the quenching bucket, where it hissed and sputtered for a moment.

An hour later, the pieces were assembled and mounted on the bracket. As Hiccup worked to attach it to the leather, using a few temporary ties of rawhide ("in case I have to take it off again"), Astrid hopped up on the sawhorse where they had put Stormfly's saddle. Hiccup had been all ready to just try his new invention on Stormfly directly, but Astrid had given him a level look and said that she wasn't going to put something sharp right next to her friend's wings without testing it first.

Hiccup stood back from the holster, and crossed his arms with a grin. "Give it a try."

Astrid carefully swung down the ax, trying to keep it aligned with the brackets that Hiccup had just laboriously designed. Two false starts later, and she swung the ax-head in perfectly, the ax settling into the new holster with a satisfying click, the three brackets holding the edges and handle of the ax, and she looked up at Hiccup, delighted.

"It works!" she said, grinning.

"Half-works," he said, stroking his chin as he looked at the brackets holding the ax head; a leather backing would keep the brackets from chafing against Stormfly's side, and the metal and wood of the brackets shielded the edges of the blades. "Try pulling it loose now."

Astrid leaned over and heaved on the handle, and looked at Hiccup, who frowned as the brackets held tightly—too tightly. "Great. I have to loosen—whoa!"

Her boyfriend jumped back as the brackets suddenly popped open, releasing the ax and sending it flying. Meanwhile, as she had been putting all of her weight onto the handle, she toppled over the side of the saddle. In the other half of the room, Gobber jumped and yelped as the ax went hurtling. The floor rose up in her vision, and she tried to tuck into a roll on reflex… only to smack into the wall with a yelp and a reverberating thud that shook the various weapons hanging in their brackets. Even over the ringing in her ears, she heard her very sharp ax thunk into something wooden a few feet away, even over the sound of Gobber's exclamations.

Hiccup appeared into her upside-down field of view within less than a handful of heartbeats. "Astrid, are you okay?" he asked, green eyes wide with concern. In the background, she heard the length of chain that Gobber had been working on for the training pit's net slither to the floor musically.

She looked up at him, a touch dazed, before she laughed. "It works!"

He extended his hand down to her and helped her to her feet, commenting, "Uh, let me loosen it a bit. We don't want you falling off Stormfly in the middle of a fight."

Standing, she grimaced, and rubbed at her head. Hiccup looked at her with concern. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I've done worse to myself practicing tumbles." She looked around. "I'll be okay in a minute. Let me get some ice from outside to put on it. Get my ax, would you?" It had sunk into one of the support pillars of the smithy nearby, and Gobber was giving the whole arrangement a dubious expression.

The sky was a brilliant blue over the white of the snow drifts, with just a few clouds visible off in the distance, although the wind was blustery. Packing up a wad of snow, she held it against her head, feeling the knot from her impact with the wall start to settle down.

As she walked back into the warm smithy, she saw that Hiccup had put her ax within easy reach of the harness; he was working the bracket with a tong and a prybar, trying to get it to loosen a touch. The metal squeaked under protest of this treatment, but he worked it back and forth a dozen times or so, until the metal resisted a bit less.

As she walked in closer, he looked up and said, "Just about done. Hop back on and we'll try again."

Gobber, having finished his length of chain, or at least his current links, walked over. "Alright you two, what is that you've got going here?" He looked over the setup with the sawhorse, saddle and ax with an air of studied disinterest, although she could tell that he was examining it closely.

"Oh, just a little addition to her saddle. Give it a try, Astrid," Hiccup said with a grin.

She hopped back into the saddle and, focusing carefully, she swung down the flat of the ax-head into the brackets, which clicked closed around it smoothly, and, with a grunt of effort, she pulled it free again. Swinging around the ax victoriously, she pumped it into the air with a cheer.

Gobber just grinned. "Very nice. Yeh might have wanted to loosen the metal first before giving it that first go, but, eh, no harm." He held up his hook for emphasis, and his eyes narrowed. "This time." He gave Hiccup a level glare. "You were working with sharp blades and springs, Hiccup, and didn't take proper precautions. I know I taught you better than that."

Hiccup flushed and looked chastened. "I… I… yeah, sorry, Gobber. You're right."

"I'm not the one needing apologizin' to. You're lucky that Astrid didn't fall onto one of the swords or crack her head open on one of the warhammers when she fell," Gobber said scoldingly. "She's the one that you just put into danger because you didn't think."

Astrid made a protesting sound, and Hiccup looked at her apologetically. "No, he's right. You… could have gotten hurt." He looked at the pack of snow in her hand. "More hurt."

She gave him a level look, and Gobber sighed. "Lecture over. Now, let me look at what you two have put together," he said, bending to examine the brackets. A few minutes or so of study, with him making "hmm" and "ahh" noises, and at one point taking Astrid's ax and slotting it home to examine the mechanism and taking it out again several times in a row, left him satisfied.

"Interestin' idea. Let her be a proper Viking on dragonback, ax and all. The springs should hold pretty well. But you'll want to try it out first with some of those silly acrobatics that I've seen you pull before trying them in battle. You'd probably feel very silly if you did one of those cartwheels in the sky only to have your ax fall off midway through and cut the dragon's wing or leg." He stood up with a grunt of effort. "Also, you'll need to replace the springs every so often as they wear out." He slapped the side of the saddle. "Other than that, looks like it should work. Finish those ties and take it out there."

As Hiccup went to remove the saddle from the sawhorse, Astrid saw a contemplative expression cross his face, and she gave him a look. "What was that?" she asked.

"Oh, just another idea."

Gobber looked at him with a degree of exasperation, while she sighed. "Of course yeh just had another one. This isn't going to be another idea like the dragon catapult, is it?"

"It worked!" Hiccup protested.

"Hiccup, yes, it could launch a dragon straight up and let them start flying, but it didn't work so well with people," she retorted.

He sighed as he hauled the saddle down from the sawhorse. Setting it on the table, he said, "I said I was sorry for accidentally launching you."

"Over the side of the cliff," she noted dryly. The Weyland-inspired contraption had lasted a week before it had shaken itself apart in that awe-inspiring racket, and she'd been its first human victim.

"Stormfly caught you before you hit the water!"

"And dropped me back on the platform like it was a game," Astrid said, shaking her head, remembering her screaming as she'd gone hurtling through the air without the benefit of a dragon—again. At least she'd been luckier than Ruffnut, who had gone flying from the thing's death throes. "I know that she likes to play fetch, but that was... not what I had expected," she finished lamely.

Gobber burst out laughing. "Aye, lass, you can't really blame the lad for that one. He did warn you not to step on it. And you should blame Tuffnut for sending you flying; he's the one that pulled the lever."

She gave the old smith a level look, which made him laugh harder.

"There you were, talking with your dragon, wondering why she was so excited, and walk out onto the board, then Hiccup gets this look on his face and warns you, and before you have a chance to get what he's saying," his hook traced out an arc in the air, "there you went!"

She sighed and put her head down in her hands, before starting to laugh herself. "And then I punched Tuffnut."

"Twice."

"He deserved it," she growled. Tuffnut had been watching and waiting for her to get onto the thing before pulling the lever that sent her flying. So she'd gone over and decked him, and then done it again when he'd staggered back to his feet. And she just regretted that Ruffnut had been the one that had been launched over the side when the contraption had destroyed itself.

"Aye, that he did. Of course, I still canna understand why you built it in the first place, Hiccup. Dragons can fly pretty well on their own," Gobber said, picking out an iron bar from the stack and putting it into the forge. "Sort of their nature."

"Yeah, well, I noticed that not all of the dragons can fly straight up from the ground, so I was experimenting with a takeoff system that wouldn't require more space or an overhang or something."

"And then it turned into a dragon toy," Astrid noted. The dragons had loved it, especially the Nadders. There had been a line.

"And then it turned into a dragon toy," Hiccup acknowledged. "How many times did Stormfly take a ride on it before it broke? Eight times? Nine?"

"I lost count. It was like jumping out of the swings when we were children."

"Huh…" Hiccup suddenly had another contemplative look. "Dragon swings… Ouch!"

"That's for coming up with too many ideas," Astrid said, smirking, having just pinched Hiccup's ear. She then hugged him and gave him a peck on the cheek. "And that's for everything else."

He grinned at her, and undid the rawhide ties. She watched, occasionally being called upon to hold the saddle steady in place, as Hiccup worked intently at replacing them with rivets at the anvil, the small metal slugs heated, pushed through the holes and then flattened.

Once they were done and cooled in the quenching bucket, she tugged at his arm, still holding Stormfly's newly enhanced saddle. "Come on, I want to try this before the sun goes down and it gets too cold to go outside!"

She swung open the door, into a world of swirling white, the blue sky from before having vanished since she'd last looked, and then shut it again.

"Then again, maybe tomorrow," she said, deadpan.

Hiccup chuckled. "Yeah." He bent down to Toothless, who had looked at the blustery snow with disgust, and started scratching behind his ears. "Dragons don't like flying in storms, do they, bud?"

Toothless shook his head in disgust, and Gobber laughed. "Aye, a year ago, a big blow like this was a sign that we would be safe for at least the night. The only dragons that will fly in a storm, much less a blizzard, are ones like the Skrill or Scauldron. A wet dragon head doesn't light, and a wet dragon wing is just an ice sheet waiting to happen."

Hiccup nodded. "I remember." He suddenly turned thoughtful. "Huh…"

Astrid and Gobber shared a look of mutual understanding. She leaned over and asked the older man, "Should we let him think, or stop it now?"

"Eh, let the dragon decide." Gobber turned to Toothless. "Eh, I think your buddy there is trying to think of a way to have you fly in a blizzard. What do you say to that?"

A moment later, Hiccup was flat on his back, pinned by Toothless, who was licking his face. Thoroughly.

"Oh, come on! I was just thinking!"

Astrid crouched, and tousled Hiccup's hair. "Hiccup? With you, it's never 'just' thinking."

He sighed and laughed. "Can I get up now?"

She laughed and Toothless moved off of him, but not before getting in one last slobbery lick. He pulled himself to his feet, making grossed-out noises as he wiped away at the slime, and then joined in the laughter with her and his mentor.

Flying could wait for later, she thought to herself as she grinned at him. This now… this was wonderful on its own.

###

Ruffnut, bundled up against the cold, flew next to her brother above the overcast clouds on the back of Barf and Belch, soaking in the sunlight.

Taking in a deep satisfied sigh, she looked out over the expanse of white clouds under the deep blue sky, which looked like the waves of an ocean. Down below, it was cold and dreary, and, while it was definitely frigid up here, the warmth of the sun helped. The Zippleback was just coasting along, rarely flapping his wings, as the twins rode on his back, enjoying the moment of getting out from the house.

Of course, they might have had a reason to hide up here… but she was sure that nobody would find them up here until after they had finished unburying the chieftain's hut.

Who knew that there was that much snow on the sides of Raven's Point? They'd done Hiccup and Stoick a favor by making sure that it wouldn't happen again, that was for sure. Yep. Totally a favor. No way that it was a prank that had gotten out of hand. Yep. That was her story.

As they drifted along, she looked out at the clear blueness, Manni's moon visible as a waning crescent of white on blue in the west, the horns pointing away from Sunna's chariot.

An image occurred to her as she looked at the ripples of the clouds, and she started to work on a kenning based on it to share with their uncle.

"Ymir's skull vaulted over the white sea… no, no, that doesn't work…" she mused to herself.

Tuffnut leaned over. "Whatcha working on?"

She gave him a sidelong look. "A new kenning for Uncle Chestnut, and I'm not sharing. Make up your own."

"Fine. I'll make one nine times better than yours!"

"You can't even count to nine!" she said testily, trying to keep the images in her head of the various layered metaphors that a proper kenning was made of.

"Sure I can! Just watch!"

"Then work on your kennings and let me think!" she said back crossly.

"Fine!"

It was nicely silent for a moment, quiet except for the air rushing over Barf and Belch's wings, and then Tuffnut started muttering to himself.

She groaned. "Shut up!"

"I was being quiet!"

"No you weren't!"

"Yes, I was!"

"Then you need to clean your ears out again the next time you bathe, because you weren't!"

They kept bickering for a few more passes until they settled down in sullen silence once more.

Ruffnut had just managed to put together a good solid kenning of the image of the sea of clouds beneath a featureless blue sky that implied the reversal of colors…

When Snotlout's voice came from nearby and knocked it out of her head.

"Hey there, beautiful. Come up here often?"

She scowled and huffed in utter frustration as she realized that she'd lost the kenning. Pulling out a knife, she looked around and threw the small blade at Snotlout from where he was flying nearby, looking at her.

"Whoa!" he shouted, as Hookfang darted out of the way of the knife, which quickly vanished into the clouds below. "What's wrong!? I'll go get your knife for you!" he said in a hurry and he and his dragon dove after it, vanishing beneath the blanket of clouds.

As he disappeared, she sighed and started piecing her shattered kenning back together.

A minute later, though, he was back, and proffering her knife back to her.

"I caught it! Told you I could. I'm just that amazing," he said boastfully. "So, interested in coming by and seeing my place? Maybe work out a little?"

She just sighed and looked at him. "Why aren't you pestering Astrid anymore?" The other question on her mind, what did I do to deserve this? was easy to answer. She was a girl near him.

"Oh, that's not important," he said with a winsome smile. "I mean, why do you care? I'm here for you."

Oh, I know. How can I make you go away for me? With a sigh, she just gave him an exasperated look. "Turned you down, didn't she, so you went for your second choice?"

His grin turned a bit sickly.

She sighed. "Give me back my knife."

His grin turning more hopeful, he eased Hookfang closer and held out her knife for her to take.

Grabbing it by the hilt with one hand, she looked him in the face as she used her other hand to unhook his belaying lines.

"Snotlout?"

"Yeah?" he said, grinning widely and leaning in.

She grabbed him by his collar and yanked him off of Hookfang's back.

As he plummeted down through the clouds, she shouted down after him, "I'm not interested either!"

Hookfang gave her a reproachful look and dove after his screaming rider.

Tuffnut just looked at her.

"What?"

He shrugged. "He was just trying to be nice."

She just gave her twin a flat glare. "No…" she said through her teeth, "he was trying to get into my trousers."

"Huh?"

She rolled her eyes and decided to use small words as she put her knife back in the belt sheath. "That wasn't being nice, that was 'Hey, want to sleep with me?'"

"And…?" Tuffnut asked, clearly confused.

She sagged and sighed. "Tuff, did he ever even talk to me before?"

"Uh… well… didn't he?"

She just looked at her brother with a level stare. "Only to tease me, in between hitting on Astrid or picking on Hiccup." She clasped her hands up by her face and affected a mocking smile. "But now that she's with Hiccup, he won't leave me alone." She shifted her tone to a nasally mocking exaggeration of Snotlout's voice, "'Hey beautiful, wanna come by my place and sing?' 'I found this cool thing, want to see it… alone?'" She huffed in irritation. "So if you think that I'm dumb enough to…" she looked at him. "Wait, nevermind."

"Huh?"

She snorted and turned away, looking back at the clouds.

After a moment, her brother said hesitantly, "Umm… sis?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you want me to tell him to leave you alone?"

She just turned and looked at her brother. "Oh, that'd be nice," she said sarcastically. "Because of course he won't listen to me."

Tuffnut's eyes just grew wider. "Uh, so you don't want me to talk to him?"

"Sure. Swell," she said.

Snotlout and Hookfang flew back into view.

"You just tried to kill me!" he shouted angrily at her.

"No… I had a knife. If I wanted to kill you, you'd be dead," she said levelly to him.

"Then what do you call that!?" he demanded.

"A warning." She glared at him. "Snotlout Spiteloutsson, I'm not your consolation prize for Astrid picking someone else, or your spare bedtoy." She narrowed her eyes. "Got it?"

He looked at her and then, wordlessly, flew away.

With a smile, she got back to working on her kennings.

###

Hiccup hammered the second-to-last nail into the wood and stepped back with a grin before passing the hammer over to Astrid's father.

With a look that was half-skeptical and half-curious, her dad hammered in the last nail with a few solid hits and stepped back as well, looking at what she and Hiccup had spent the last fortnight working on.

The waterwheel was a bit taller than Stoick, and it had taken Astrid weeks to talk her father into letting Hiccup borrow one of their smaller millstones for this experiment. But the spring thaw was nearly here, and they'd managed to convince him, as the village miller, to let Hiccup try building a small water-powered grain mill.

The idea had come from a book that Fishlegs had just bought from Trader Johann, about some engineering done down in the continent, and Hiccup had run with it, building a model that had convinced Astrid. And then she had pestered her father into trying it. It had been a hard sell; they'd had horizontal wheels before, but they weren't very effective, and her family had switched over to mules at some point a generation or two back, apparently citing that the mules could be bribed easier. So a vertical wheel had been a tricky sell on her part.

But now it was built, after a month and a half of hard work, near one of the streams that cascaded near the village; Hiccup had picked a nice little waterfall as the spot. The water was currently frozen over, but that had made construction easier, and carrying over the supplies and materials had been simple with the dragons. The millstones themselves had been the hardest part to bring over, just due to them being heavy stone, but the Gronckles had lifted them easily after she and Hiccup had figured out the best way to attach the carry-straps.

Her father turned and looked at Hiccup. "So now what, son?"

Her boyfriend just turned and whistled to the dragons standing nearby. The Night Fury and the various Nadders promptly turned to the frozen-over holding pond above the waterfall, one that they had put together the other week during a brief thaw, and breathed fire.

The rush of heat made her sigh in appreciation as the cold disappeared. A minute or two later, the water, steaming in the cold, started to flow over the small dam, down the spillway, and onto the waterwheel.

With a creaking noise, the wheel started to turn, slowly at first and then faster and faster.

Cheering, she and Hiccup ran inside the new building, and watched the wooden gears and shafts that they had so carefully shaped start to spin.

Her father came up behind them and put his hand on her shoulder.

"Alright. I'll admit it," he said, looking as the millstones ground together, barley flour pouring out between them, and not a single draft animal needed, "this was a grand idea." He shook his head, a smile on his face, and patted Hiccup on the shoulder with his other hand.

After a moment, watching the millstone spin, her father laughed again. "Looks like I have to go get more barley. That stone's spinning twice as fast as the mule could manage to turn it." He turned and looked at the pair of them. "Astrid, you know the rules for being around a millstone. Keep him from losing any bits."

"You mean any more bits," Hiccup said sarcastically.

"Uh…" her father glanced at his peg and reddened slightly. "Sorry. I just don't want to have to explain how you lost some fingers or something to Stoick."

Hiccup sighed and nodded. "Okay."

Astrid just slung her arm around her boyfriend and nodded at her father.

She watched her dad hop onto his Nadder, a sanguine and rather hyperactive pink fellow named Cloudfox, and fly back towards the village. Once they had flown out of sight, she turned, took a quick look around and saw that there were no witnesses in the area. Grinning, she grabbed Hiccup by the collar to pin him against the wall with a thump, and gave him a bruising kiss.

He gave a brief noise of surprise, and then melted into it, and they were both breathing heavily when they broke the kiss shortly thereafter.

"It's working," she said gleefully to him, their foreheads touching, the noise of creaking wood surrounding them.

"Was there any doubt?" he asked back, grinning.

She just gave him a skeptical look. "When you've had three, no, five creations in a row work without them falling apart or flying apart, you can ask that question again, okay?"

He shrugged, grinning widely at her. "Okay."

She gave him another kiss, and her own hands started to wander a bit. As they reached certain spots on him, Hiccup coughed and pulled away a bit.

"Not now," he said with a pained look.

"Why?" she said, giving him a sly grin.

"Because your dad won't be gone long, and having him walk in on you… touching me like that might have him change his mind on me losing bits!" he said plaintively.

She gave him a look and then nodded sourly. "Point." They'd had a few scant moments of actual privacy since Yule, but what times they had found had been so very enjoyable… if a bit fumbling and occasionally intensely awkward. And even then, they hadn't gone too far… yet. But they both knew that that was coming, sooner or later.

Assuming that they could find themselves enough privacy to do anything, of course. But Hiccup was right—her dad would be back soon, and him walking in to find her hands in certain places on Hiccup, or the other way around… probably wouldn't be good.

The millstone started to slow, as did the sound of the water from outside.

Hiccup poked his head out the door and shrugged. "Looks like the meltwater's all done," he said.

"Well, for an experiment, it went well, right?" she said. "And Thawfest is in a month or so. The water will start flowing once the ice melts." She grinned at him as the millstone came to a slow stop.

He nodded and grinned up at the gearing that they had put together and waved his arms around to indicate it all. And, as the reality of it really sunk in, he put aside his earlier bravado and started to cheer in earnest. "Astrid, look! Look! It works! It actually worked!"

She beamed at him. "It did!" She reached up and tousled her boyfriend's hair with a grin, and then reached further up and patted the main drive shaft like it was a well-behaved pet. Her father had always been complaining about how much it took to feed the mules that they used to turn the millstones that ground the flour for the village's bread. Now, thanks to Hiccup… well, those days would be a thing of the past.

Again.

She leaned up against him possessively. "So, what's next on your list of ideas?"

"Well, I had some ideas for this place, or the next one we build…" he said, grinning.

She rolled her eyes fondly and gave him a moderately light punch to the arm with a grin. "Of course you do. What sorts?"

"Well, for starters, I'm noticing that the drive shaft there is rubbing against the socket there…" he pointed where the big beam entered the room, "so I was thinking of carving some wooden balls from oak or something and making a collar for them to spin in…"

She tried to visualize that, and then nodded. "So it can spin without rubbing?"

"Yep!" He grinned and then said, "And I think the next waterwheel needs to be bigger, with bigger buckets or paddles… and if we do it on the side of a steep hill, there's nothing stopping us from having one wheel dump water into another wheel below it…"

Cocking her head in thought, she nodded in agreement after a moment. "I see. Yeah. Oh, dad would love that." A thought occurred to her. "Hey. Can't you have the drive shaft push, oh, I don't know, a hammer or a flail?"

Hiccup stroked his chin in thought for a moment. "Hmm… yeah… well, probably. Why?"

"Threshing grain," she said, making a whacking motion, as if knocking the grain-heads from the stalks. "Although it's a really great way to work on proper hammer form."

Understanding dawned in his eyes. "Oooh. I see. Hmm… yeah. I think I could do it." He cocked his head. "Heck, if I do that… I could make it also for the forge… a nice hammer… and maybe work the bellows…"

She grinned and gave him another kiss, which quickly deepened. She started nibbling on his lip a bit as his hands started rubbing her back.

Which, of course, was when her dad walked back in.

He gave an amused cough from behind the two of them, holding a pair of large burlap sacks of barley grain, one on each of his shoulders.

"Am I interrupting anything?" he asked with a smirk, dropping the heavy sacks to the ground with a thud.

Hiccup's hands flew to his sides and he stepped back from Astrid convulsively. "Nosir. Uh—"

"Hiccup, don't worry. I'm not going to feed you into the millstones for touching my daughter." He grinned at the pair of them. "So, let's melt some more water. I want to test this thing that you've built first. It worked for a short while and for a few handfuls of barley. Let's see how well it handles a few sackfuls, shall we?"

They nodded, and Astrid just gave her father a grateful look. He and her mother—after some initial lingering skepticism at the dragon tamer in those first few weeks, courtesy of a long family tradition of dragon-slaying—had eventually come around to accept Hiccup as her boyfriend. They even had their own dragons now, Nadders like hers.

Hiccup went outside to get the dragons to work, and called greetings to her mother, who had arrived with her father. As her father fiddled with adjusting the millstones, she heaved up the sack of barley onto a ledge and slit it open with her knife, noting that the blade's edge was getting dull. Well, she'd just have Hiccup put it to the stone when he had a chance. Another roar of dragonfire from outside, and the millstone started to turn once more after a few moments.

A few minutes later, it was spinning merrily, the big wooden gears taking the slow speed of the waterwheel and making the stones spin that much faster, due to their differing sizes. She just remembered her own reaction when Hiccup had shown her the model and how the different sized gears could be used to change the speed of the spin. And now the ideas were bouncing around in her head, and she was thinking of other ways that they could do things.

A rush of air announced the arrival of another dragon, and a moment later, Stoick walked into the mill, looking around carefully before stepping fully inside.

"How goes it, Hákon?" he asked her father, as he looked around with interest.

"Your boy and my girl do good work," he said with a grin, feeding in handfuls of grain into the hopper from the sack that Astrid had opened. He waved vaguely to indicate the room. "We're about to start seeing how well it works for long term, but so far I'm impressed. It's working much better and much faster than the old wheel that my father talked about." He motioned to the clean floor. "And not having to work around mule shit is a blessing in and of itself."

Stoick grinned. "Aye. And less spoilage from the smell, too, I'd wager."

"Ayep." Her father tossed another double-handful of barley grains into the hopper.. "Now, let's take a look…"

Her dad knelt down to where the flour was pouring out from between the two millstones and down onto the pan around the base of the bedstone, and picked up a double-handful of the flour. Holding it up to his face, he took a deep sniff, dumped half of it back into the pan, and then rubbed some between his fingers with his eyes closed, feeling for the texture. Then, smiling, he turned to Stoick. "Nice and fine. Minimal grit."

Stoick just quirked an eyebrow. "Aren't they your own stones?"

"Aye, but, as you said…" her dad tossed the handful back into the pan and rose to his feet, "less spoilage. The bakers will be happy." He pointed to a small pile of empty flour bags nearby. "Hand me one of those? I want to start bagging this."

The chief laughed, and tossed over an empty sack.

Stoick having cleared the doorway, Astrid slipped around him and made for the door; it was a touch cramped in there, with the chief in the way. As he and her dad chatted about the new mill, she went outside to find Hiccup talking with her mother near the holding pond.

"I still can't quite believe you built the whole place in less than two months," her mother was saying to him as Hiccup shoveled in more snow to be melted. "I know that the dragons helped, but I'm still surprised."

Hiccup just blushed and shrugged in a downplaying manner. "They did all of the work. I just pointed—"

Astrid threw a snowball at the back of his head from maybe ten feet away.

"What the—! Hey!" he shouted, turning around to look at her.

Grinning at him, she threw another one, square in his face. The light powder exploded as it hit his nose, and he coughed and shouted, "No fair!"

Ducking, he scooped up his own snowball and threw it blindly back in her direction, but it missed. Grinning, she tossed another one at him, and it hit his hair in a wonderful cloud of white.

Her mother ducked out of the way down the hillside, grinning, and gave her a cheer.

He rubbed the snow out of his eyes and glared at her before laughing. "What did I do to deserve that?"

She just grinned at him. "Nothing. It was just a perfect opportunity." Her grin widened. "I couldn't resist."

There was suddenly a smirk under those big green eyes, and he shrugged and went, "Well, I guess then I shouldn't feel bad about this."

"Wha—?" she started to say, and then Toothless, having snuck up behind her, dropped a giant pile of snow onto her head from where he'd been carrying it between his front paws. As she sputtered and cried out over the sudden cold, he dropped down around her and gave his little chortle-laugh.

Hiccup and her mother, the traitor, were laughing hard as she brushed the snow out of her face and hair. With an exaggerated humph, she gave the black dragon a deadpan glare, which he returned with a grin.

Just as she turned back to her boyfriend, another snowball came flying in and whacked her in the chest. Unfortunately, Hiccup's snow supply was a bit melted, and it was much damper snow, and shockingly cold from the water in it. She gasped from the chill as it spread across her chest, and then swore at Hiccup before throwing more snow at him.

"You ass! That was cold!" she said, half-laughing as the cold water made her skin pucker up all over, and threw another snowball at him.

He ducked away from the snowball, and then his peg slipped out from under him on the slickness of the snow. With a yelp of surprise and a splash, he fell into the melted waters of the holding pond.

Astrid gasped, her eyes wide in realization of how cold that water would be. Without hesitation, she darted up the last few feet of the little hill around the waterfall and went in after him. It wasn't terribly big, but it was still enough to drown in.

As the water hit her skin, she held back a screaming gasp from the sheer frigid chill of it, but Hiccup was worse off. He was scrambling for leverage on the water-smoothed rocks at the bottom of the pond, and it was just deep enough to keep him from pushing himself clear of the water with his arms.

Taking a deep breath, she ducked her head under the water and grabbed him by his collar and arm. She managed to drag his head up and free of the water just as her mother appeared over the lip of the pond; she had mud all down her front, on her arms and in her hair, probably from slipping on the hillside.

Astrid's own muscles were clenching in the face of the cold, and she tried to haul the two of them out of the water, only to find that she couldn't. Her fingers had lost all sensation, and her arms were just trying to wrap themselves around her. Feet on the bottom of the pond, she tried to pull herself out, so she could pull him out next, and her hands slipped on the wet wood. Then her mother grabbed her with both hands and pulled her free. Turning, even as her muscles screamed at her, she helped her mother drag her boyfriend free of the grasping waters of the little frozen pond.

Teeth chattering, she held him close and tried to speak, only for a spasmed shiver to hit her that nearly doubled her over.

"C-c-c-cold…" she gasped out. Hiccup just fell to his hands and knees and vomited up a stream of water before gasping for air. He was shivering so badly that it hurt her to watch him.

The dragons hustled over, and Toothless did something that she'd never seen him do before. With a look of focus on his face, he gave off little breaths of fire, which gave welcome warmth to her, but they faded too fast.

Another spasm hit, and her mother turned to the concerned dragons. "Get them to the bathhouse and into the warmth, quick!"

Toothless nodded and went to help Hiccup onto his back, but a massive shiver-spasm made him fall off. Toothless gave a growl of concerned alarm.

Stormfly, who had been watching the snowball fight with an amused look and had rushed over when Astrid had dived into the pond after Hiccup, pushed her way into the group.

"Take Stormfly," her mother said, concerned, and turned to the dragon. "Hiccup can't work the tailfin when he's like this," she said to Astrid's dragon. "You have to carry them both to someplace warm now."

"Toothless can, no—" Hiccup tried to protest to her mother, just as another wave of shivers wracked his body, his voice sounding raspy and watery.

"Hush, boy. Save your strength," her mother said, and looked at the dragon. "Take them!"

Stormfly nodded, and helped the two freezing teenagers onto her back. With a rush of wings, they took off, Toothless following behind them on the ground at top speed.

The chill of the wind on their wet clothing was like knives on their skin, and they huddled close together on her dragon's back for the brief flight to the village. It couldn't have been more than a count of thirty, but each moment seemed to stretch into an infinity of agonizing cold.

Then Stormfly banked and flew down, landing in front of the bathhouse. She hauled Hiccup, whose hair had frozen into an icy reddish mass, off of her dragon's back. Then, hunched over, the two of them staggered towards the bathhouse, their woolen garments crackling with a sheen of ice.

Stepping over the threshold, each of them leaning on the other, they staggered and collapsed onto the floor as alarmed adult voices sounded.

Astrid lifted her head to see the bathhouse attendants picking them both up off of the floor, exclaiming at the chill of their skin.

Fortunately, being Vikings, they knew quite well what to do about someone having taken an unintended dip into ice water.

Astrid felt herself trying to blush as the attendants, a married couple from the Thorston clan named Braun and Hilda, summarily stripped the two of them of their sodden and icy woolens and furs, but she was too cold. She got a few glances at Hiccup in the whirlwind of activity, and was deeply concerned. Her boy's skin should not be that pale, verging on outright blue.

"Is he going to be okay?" she managed to get out after several shiver-spasms, her chest shaking as she made little shallow breaths.

"Probably," said Braun, working on him. "What happened?"

Hiccup, his teeth chattering and voice gurgling a bit, said, "My fault—"

"No, it wasn't!" she protested. "I threw the snowball!"

"And I messed up and fell in—" he said, and gave a deep wracking cough, falling to the floor and vomiting up more water with great gasping heaves that made Astrid's gut twist in sympathy.

She winced and reflexively reached for him, only to be restrained by Hilda, who was still working on her.

"That's a clear enough picture, thanks," said Braun dryly, hauling her boyfriend to his feet and then unceremoniously wrapped him in a big linen towel.

Astrid herself was still shivering, as Hilda brusquely wrapped a towel around her with just as much decorum. Hiccup looked awful, and the watery noise of his hacking breath was scaring her.

"What now?" she asked.

"This way," Hilda said, and the two adults dragged them off to the back of the bathhouse and more or less tossed the pair onto a bench in the tub room.

"You two, sit there," Braun said.

"Stay out of the baths and the sauna," Hilda said.

"But, but… Why… why," she shivered, "why not just put… us in a warm bath?" she managed to shiver out. It was warm and moist in here, but the steaming tubs of bathwater just looked so inviting…

"Because Stoick, Gunvor and Hákon would be mighty upset with us if we managed to kill their children," she said dryly. "Putting someone from ice water to steaming water or a sauna is a good way to have their heart stop."

Astrid blinked as another shiver wracked her body. "Oh." She leaned up against Hiccup unconsciously, and he did the same, the two of them shivering even as they breathed the warm air.

A few of the bathers in the room gave them concerned looks and someone called out to the attendants, "What happened?"

Astrid shivered, her breath still coming rapidly, and managed to get out, "Hiccup fell into the holding pond for my parents' new mill…"

"And she pulled me out," Hiccup said, his voice still watery. That seemed to be enough to trigger another coughing fit, and he fell forward, the linen towel opening and draping across him, and then vomited up more water. The last of it came up just as Toothless bulled his way into the tub room.

The dragon just looked around the room, gave them all an inscrutable look, and laid down protectively on the floor around their bench. He looked at Hiccup with concern as his friend reclosed the linen towel around himself and sat back down on the bench next to Astrid.

Hilda just sighed. "Did you remember to close the doors?" she asked the dragon.

Toothless huffed.

"Well fine then. You can keep them alive and I'll go deal with those soaked woolens before they're ruined. Keep them out of the sauna and the tubs. No matter how much they complain that they're cold, you hear me?"

Toothless gave an affirmative gruff, and Hilda shrugged and walked out of the room.

Braun just looked at the two—three—of them. "She's not kidding. You two will stay out of the sauna and tubs, you hear me?"

They both nodded, and Astrid leaned up against Hiccup again, suddenly feeling very tired.

Her mind started to wander a bit as she just tried to feel the warmth of the room… even if they couldn't just jump into the steaming vat less than five feet in front of them… it looked so warm and inviting… Hiccup could join her…

She then stiffened, realizing that, under the linen towels, they were both completely naked. While he might not have gotten a look at her when Hilda had stripped her of the sodden clothes, as he'd been tossing up ice water from his lungs, she'd gotten an eyeful of him when Braun had done the same for him.

Suddenly grateful that she was too cold to blush, she tried very, very hard to put the memory aside.

Now was not the time for that… especially with the half a dozen other people in the room looking at them with concern and worry. Berk usually was pretty good about not losing people to cold exposure or winter drowning, but it still happened.

Hiccup's shivers were starting to taper off, and he looked up at her. Voice still a bit raspy, he said, "You okay?"

She just gave him an incredulous look. "You were under for twice as long and actually started drowning and breathed in cold water, and you're worried about me?"

He shrugged, which made the linen towel shift a bit. "Well, yeah. You're—" he paused, clearly trying to think of the right word. Astrid sympathized. Her head felt all mushy and tired too. "You're… I mean… you're cold too, right?"

She smiled and kissed his cheek. "Yeah." She put an arm around his shoulder and sighed. "And so are you."

Someone nearby muttered something.

She turned her head and gave the heavily-scarred, silver-haired fellow a look. "What?" She narrowed her eyes a bit, trying to bring him into focus, but she was still cold and tired… she knew his name, but couldn't recall it at the moment…

He shrugged and said with a smirk, "Been watchin' yeh two be all over each other all season. Bet yeh're enjoying the moment." His smirk turned lewd and he opened his mouth to say something more, but Hiccup jumped in first.

"Hey! Astrid kept me from drowning!"

"Yea, and now yeh two are all nice and cozy there…" He winked knowingly.

Astrid just found herself laughing slightly at the sheer absurdity of it. Her first glance of her boyfriend's naked body, and it was him getting ice-caked frozen clothes off of him. Hardly romantic. And now… well, amorous was hardly an accurate way of describing how she felt at the moment. More like bone-deep cold and tired.

She just looked at the older man and said, "Think what you like, but," she gave a deep shiver that seemed to start at her toes and go up her in a wave, "if you're going to start wagging your tongue over this…" she blinked and pushed the uncooperative words together, "go chew on some ice first, and maybe take your own ice bath and see how cozy you feel, okay?"

With another shivering shudder, she burrowed in closer to Hiccup's side, and the bather… Fritjof, right, that was his name, just shrugged and sank down deeper into the steaming tub without another word. She remembered him now. He was an outsider, a former sea raider who had joined the Jorgensons a few years back, looking for glory in fighting dragons.

Her mother came into the room, Stoick following closely behind.

"You two all right?" he asked, concerned. Nearby, there was a sudden muffled splashing as Fritjof hurriedly climbed out of his tub.

They both nodded.

Stoick just looked at his son. "Green Death's fire, winter ice water… and yeh fly on a dragon and go down in dragon tunnels." He sighed. "Yeh got four elemental ways of killin' yerself, son. Be more careful."

Hiccup shrugged. "Astrid and Toothless will protect me," he said, smiling at the two of them.

Astrid poked him in the ribs. "Yes, we will, but it's not fair to us to have to yank your ass out of harm's way."

Toothless chuffed in agreement.

Stoick gave her a grateful look. "Aye. Well. You two warm up. Your father is trying out his new mill, and I want to see it work. But I wanted to check in on you both first." He turned to Astrid's mother, as Fritjof was slinking off towards the door behind him… probably trying to get clear before she could tell the chief about his rudeness. "Gunvor, coming with or staying?"

"I'll be along shortly," she said, looking at the two of them. Hiccup tensed under her regard.

"Aye. See you then." The chief turned to his son. "Hiccup. First that catapult… then the spear chucker—"

"It worked!" Hiccup protested. Off to the side, the door closed behind Fritjof; Astrid considered saying something, but after a moment's thought, decided that robbing him of half of his bath to be a fair trade for his rudeness.

"Aye… unless it jammed," Stoick said mildly.

"I just think I need to work on the shape of the groove better," Hiccup said, only to have Stoick hold up a hand.

"That's enough, Hiccup. You can work on it again at some point later. My point is, you've been working on things all winter, and training the dragons. You've done well. But this is the third time this winter that something that you've built has almost badly hurt you or someone else—"

Astrid jumped in. "But this had nothing to do with the mill! It was my fault for picking a bad spot for starting a snowball fight! It's my fault, not Hiccup's!"

Stoick looked at her and sighed. "I suppose that there's merit to that. But I want yeh both to be more careful. Alright?"

They both nodded.

"Good. And… Astrid?"

She looked at the chief.

"Thank you." He looked at Hiccup with concern in his eyes. "Thank you for saving my son."

"I—"

"Your mother told me that you dove in without a care for your own safety. So thank you." He turned and gave her mother a wry grin. "Aye, and on that note, I think that your mother here might have some things to say to you…"

He turned and left, and Astrid braced herself.

Her mother just looked at her for a moment… looked at them, smiled, and reached down and tousled Astrid's hair. "You did good, kid," she said, smiling at her. "I'm very proud of you."

Astrid blinked. Her mother wasn't terribly overprotective, and always encouraged her to be strong and self-reliant and capable… but honest praise had to be earned. "I… uh…"

Giving her another smile, her mother shrugged. "You were brave, you were smart, you didn't panic, and you reacted well. I'm proud."

Astrid blinked again, looking down at her hands in embarrassment. It had all happened so fast… but then she looked up at her mother. "Mom… thanks."

"Well, you two warm up and rest," her mother said, and then she turned her gaze to Hiccup. "Oh, and Hiccup?"

"Mmmh?"

"How hard would it be for you to build more of those waterwheels?"

He blinked and waved his arms expressively… causing the towel to drop slightly, exposing his chest. Astrid very carefully averted her gaze as he started to talk with enthusiasm. "Not very hard. Actually, we were talking about improvements to make for the next one."

"Good. We'll talk. But we have another three millstones… and we might want you to make new homes for them," she said. "But that can be for later." She turned and left.

Astrid just leaned back on the bench with an explosive breath of relief.

Hiccup sighed. "I second the motion."

They both laughed and, fixing his towel, they leaned up against one another, eventually dropping off into a light nap in the warmth of the bathhouse.

Astrid felt… satisfied. Her mother was pleased, the mill was working, and Hiccup was all right.

Yeah, this was good. Things were going all right.

###

Sitting back in his throne, Donald Mac Bethad mac Findláích, listened to the itinerant bard as the winter winds howled outside the walls of his hold in Moray. It was his first winter since becoming King of the Scots, since his succession from his cousin Donnchad mac Crínáin, dead these six months, killed on the field of battle at Bothnagowan. His wife Gruoch, sat next to him, with his stepson Lulach, who was watching the bard with wide eyes as the man sang.

Mac Bethad was listening as well. His court fili had mentioned some of the general details of the saga when suggesting this evening, but Mac Bethad would have thought it a tall tale out of myth and legend, if not for two things.

First there was the fact that for the last four months, there had been an utter lack of reports of dragon attacks and raids coming from his northern vassals.

And second, there was the blackened and burned scale the size of a round shield that the bard had produced from a sack at the proper moment in the tale.

They all had gaped at it. Mac Bethad had seen dragons, and had once fought against the beasts when they had raided his procession, years before, but such beasts were usually the size of horses, on up to perhaps the size of a team of oxen. Prodigious, for certain, but functioning on the scale of man and his works. Their hides produced scales sized on the order of coins—and were even occasionally used as such in his realm.

For the beast to have reached a size that such prodigious scutes were not the largest found… Mac Bethad found his imagination wanting. He could understand the measures that the bard reported, of sixty cubits tall, two hundred cubits long, and wings of three hundred cubits. But his mind staggered at the thought of such a beast upon his shores.

But he need not fear, apparently, for this Hero, from a village so small that he could not recall its place on his maps, had killed the beast.

And had done so with another dragon. And that one was something that Mac Bethad knew of, for a Night Fury had been among those that had attacked his camp that long ago night. He could still hear that demonic whistle and the screams of dying men if he thought too much on it…

But the Hero had apparently managed to break one to the saddle and bridle, to do his bidding as he willed, having bested it in the skies above his villages and then done battle with it in the forest surrounding until it submitted and gave its loyalty to him.

And, together, they had slain the beast, shortly after he himself had been on the battlefield against his cousin the king.

He wondered if this not-so-distant Hero was also working to consolidate his own power, much as Mac Bethad was doing. Reportedly, he was the son of the Viking chieftain of the tiny village, and he could only imagine that a man possessing such martial strength among those tribal peoples, and with a legitimate claim to the position, would have no difficulty claiming his father's throne. Mac Bethad himself had had to carve out his own power and authority with a sword, even though, by the law, his own line had the right to it.

After the bard and his fili finished with a flourish, reporting the dire injury to the Hero and (much to Mac Bethad's disappointment) his subsequent recovery, he rose and nodded towards the pair.

"We thank you, wise and learned gentlemen, for this news and entertainment here tonight. You have given us much to think about, and you," he turned to the bard, "will be justly compensated for your efforts in traveling in this season to bring us such news."

The bard glowed with satisfaction, and gave a deep bow to the king. "Thank you, my lord," he said, sticking the scale back into the sack.

As the room broke into excited murmuring and discussion over the story, Mac Bethad thought to himself. Something must be done, that was for certain. At the very least, he had to ascertain the intentions of this new power on his borders.

He himself had sworn submission to Cnut the Great these nine years ago, when Mac Bethad had just been the dux of Máel Coluim mac Cináeda, Forranach—or, as his lord had been styled to Cnut's Anglo lackeys, Malcolm the Second, son of Kenneth the Second, The Destroyer, King of Alba. And his lord had also sworn submission to the Viking Dane.

Now, with both Máel Coluim and Cnut having joined the Lord in Heaven, he eyed King Harthacnut with concern, after the man had taken the crown from his half-brother not even a year earlier. The two were still exchanging letters and verbally dancing around one another. Mac Bethad had sworn to the man's father, not to the man himself, but Harthacnut commanded not only England but the Danes, and his Thingmen had grown their fleet to sixty ships this past year, with some reports saying even more. Such a force could easily conquer much of Mac Bethad's kingdom, or at least press him hard. So, instead, he fenced with the other man, knowing that his only salvation was the threat of invasion by the boy, Magnus the Good of Norway, who had inherited many of Cnut's raiders from that kingdom. So long as he was a threat to Harthacnut, Mac Bethad could breath easier, for the Thingmen were needed to defend. Just because the two kings had met this past summer at the border between their nations and agreed to peace, didn't necessarily mean that they were going to follow through with that promise. Plus there was still the threat from the Swedes and Wends. Mac Bethad, on the other hand, just wanted to be left alone.

It was ironic, in a way. The Dragon Hero was apparently still but a boy, but if he commanded a Night Fury, then he was deadly dangerous. Magnus was still a child as well, but commanded thousands of berserkers and raiders. And here Mac Bethad was between them.

Magnus had resisted his overtures of peace and alliance, but perhaps, if Mac Bethad played his pieces well, the Dragon Hero of Berk could be brought into his fold. The dragonfire of a Night Fury would reduce any longboat to flotsam, whether that ship belonged to the Thingmen or Magnus's raiders, and Mac Bethad's men could hold the passes against the English coming from overland. The old Roman wall could be put to its old use once again, perhaps.

He considered, brooding, as his wife approached him.

"What troubles you, husband?" she asked.

Looking at her, he said, "The bard has brought news of either our salvation or our doom, milady, and I know not which. Magnus threatens from the sea, Harthacnut from the land, and now perhaps dragons from the air. And I have met the beast that the Hero rides in battle, and count myself fortunate to have survived. He would make for a potent ally, or an even more deadly enemy, and I know not how to court him to our side."

His wife leaned down to face him. "Then find out. Magnus is but a boy, but dreams of rebuilding Cnut's empire, for he has had a taste of rulership and power, and wants the full dish. But this hero? He is from a tiny tribal holding among the islands to the north. However great his deeds, he will think with his thews and his ax, not his brains, and know not the intricacies of what it means to be a lord. Woo him, dazzle him, find his weaknesses and vices, and bend them."

Mac Bethad looked at her and smiled. "And how, pray tell, would you propose that I do that, and in a way that will not be obvious to even a thew-bounded berserker? Send gold and jewels that we do not have, on pretty maidens perhaps, and simply assume that he will not just take them and come looking for more?"

"Simple. If they follow the old pagan ways, then in a few months' time, they will hold their celebration for the end of winter. If they follow the way of Christ, then they will mark our Lord's martyrdom at the same time. Send trusted men to witness, watch and report back, and perhaps offer a gift to the chieftain to sweeten his mood. Once we know more… then we can begin. Because, dear husband, the options for our survival are four; they become our vassals. We become theirs. We join in alliance of equals. Or they are destroyed. Magnus commands an army, and we cannot confront him directly. But this Hero? He had his friends astride dragons during the battle, but they were dismounted, according to the bard. His forces will be limited, and vulnerable. If we must, we could take them, raze their village, and secure our flank, and be no worse off than we are now."

He nodded.

"Agreed."

Previous Chapter | Summary | Table Of Contents Main | Next Chapter

#httyd #httyd fanfiction #httyd fandom #a thing of vikings #how to train your dragon

2 notes · View notes