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isoscele · 3 years

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Lumberjanes Week Day 1 - First Day of Summer

(This is longer, weirder, and later than I wanted it to be, but isn’t that the spirit of the week?)

--------- Jo’s last exam is electrical engineering, and she finishes twenty minutes early. Dr. Quispe winks at her as she turns it in, and Jo tries to smile. The constant fog of formulae and diagrams dissipates from her head, replaced by a more all-consuming calculation.

One hour, six minutes to go.

She drops by her room, picks up the single backpack sitting on the bare mattress. On her way out, Gabi pops out of the lounge. “All done?”

Jo’s smile softens, takes on something real. “Yup. You?”

“I still have an essay, but I’ll probably do it at home. Got any big summer plans?”

“Kind of.” She shifts her backpack higher on her shoulders, silently debating how much to say. “I’m going camping with some friends.”

“Oh, cool,” Gabi says. “I wouldn’t’ve pegged you as an outdoorsy type, Jo.”

“Oh, you know.” Something under her skin humming, some outdated circuitry splitting into life. Forty-nine minutes. “In certain circumstances.”

Gabi giggles. As is the case with every one of their sporadic interactions, Jo wonders if they’re flirting. “Have fun! Don’t get eaten by a bear!”

She swans back toward her laptop and empty M&M packet. If she’d looked back for just a moment, she might have wondered what she had said to make Jo look so devastated.

---------

Mal has a pickup truck. It’s disgusting, with a windshield wiper that sounds like a dying macaw and a clutch that, for two heart-stopping seconds at the beginning of each gear shift, refuses to move at all. Mal has always defended it with a vigor previously only saved for her best friends and favorite bands.

Jo slides into the passenger seat. The radio is blasting heavy metal and the interior smells shockingly of mayonnaise; she has to blink hard to hold back her tears. There are some things that are so beautiful, so precious that it’s impossible to look at them head-on. Jo always forgets, when she’s away.

“You’re in the bus lane,” she tells Mal.

Mal obligingly starts the very long process of getting her car to move. “I thought the idea behind going to fancy science school with adults was that bus lanes were no longer necessary. Also, it’s fucking amazing to see you.”

“The buses shuttle students around campus. Also, I’m delighted that you’re here and I want to give you a hug.”

“Motion passed,” Mal says, and they squeeze awkwardly over the two melted Frosties in the cupholders.

The car jolts into first gear hard enough to throw Jo into the seatbelt, and then suddenly she’s laughing so hard she has to hold her sides to keep herself from spilling over.

“Sorry!” Mal says, “sorry, she’s jumpy around strangers,” which is what she says every summer. It’s a terrible joke laced with an irrefutable affection, and it’s so Mal that it makes Jo laugh even harder.

“We’re not strangers,” Jo says. She pats the center console, feels a little of the polyester flake off on her hand. “Me and this truck go way back.”

“Well, let’s hope you and this truck go way forward, too,” Mal says, “because I’m really not sure the engine’s going to last us to California.”

---------

They pull into the trailhead at around six the next morning, and make silent work of the luggage in the back. The sun’s just starting to come up, blinking warily between the table pines. Mal waves her on, and Jo sets off along the winding path.

The first year or two, they mostly stuck to campgrounds and RV parks, warming hot chocolate on the camp stove despite persistent, obnoxious heat. Jo didn’t think much of it at the time, but now she knows that Molly was trying not to inconvenience them, trying to keep them to the shallows of the forests. Trying to keep anyone from going too far, getting too stuck.

The fact that they were instructed to bring backpacking gear this year doesn’t do much to assuage the constant thread of worry in the back of her mind. This isn’t something they can dip their toes in anymore; the world is always a more dire place than they left it last summer.

The hike is long and treacherous. They go off the trail almost immediately, but neither of them need a map. It sounds cliche to say that they’re following something else, but they are. The anxious chitter of the birds and the sun balking at the edges of the trees and the distant hush of a river form a clear topography in their minds. They walk without discussion, taking each turn as naturally as if they had always lived here.

Around mile seven, they start to hear voices. Mal breaks into a run, and Jo comes crashing after her.

They knock straight into April, who catches both of them with practiced ease. For a moment, the air splits with three different calls of incomprehensible joy, and then they’re lowering themselves to the moss as a single, complex organism.

“Holy Felicia Flames, you guys look great!” April hollers.

“I have so much to tell you,” Mal says.

“Are you trying to set the forest on fire?” Jo asks, wandering over to where April has piled an impressive set of branches and old newspaper. She must have packed most of it in herself; the trees around here don’t look like that.

“Might make our job easier,” April says, and then a grim silence falls over the clearing.

I’m going camping with some friends, Jo had said, as if it was just camping, as if they were just friends. As if Jo’s relationship with these people, the things they had to do together, could be described in such a mundane and immaterial way. As if Jo won’t sit at the fire with them tonight, watching the way the sparks clear the shadows around their eyes, and love them with everything she has in her. As if she won’t hate them, too, for making her come here.

Here they are, in the annual half-second when they don’t know what to say to each other. The moment when the summer teeters, still soft and blameless, on the edge of something sharper.

But then April asks Mal how the band’s doing, and the moment passes.

“I wish I’d thought to bring pictures,” Mal says. “We played at this amazing venue last January--there was this skylight, and it was pouring rain, and people just kept coming in because it was so miserable outside.”

“Aw, that’s great,” April says. “I’d love to come someday, but y’all sell out so fast!”

Mal scratches the back of her neck, looking embarrassed. “Yeah, sometimes.”

“What are we talking about?” Ripley half-shouts. Jo yelps, and then that turns into more laughter, which turns into an incredible group hug. For someone who carries no fewer than three kazoos on her person at all times, Ripley can be surprisingly stealthy when she wants to. Jo never hears her approaching anymore; first, there’s nothing, and then there’s Ripley.

April hugs Ripley so hard she lifts her off the ground. Ripley immediately starts listing all the weird birds she’s seen this year and asking April to cross-reference them with her encyclopedia of creatures.

And then, of course, there are four.

Jo drifts half a step closer to Mal and extends her hand. Without tearing her gaze from the blot of trees, Mal takes it.

Last year, Molly had been sort of--sick. They’d been camping on a bauld where eagles circled high overhead and the flowers were all this terrible saffron yellow, bent under the shadow of the rocks. Molly had walked with a stick, like the Bear Woman--like Nellie used to use, thick and gnarled. But she said that was temporary, just because of a bad fall, and no one talked about how her freckles had almost overtaken the white of her hands, how her eyes were spotted with yellow and seemed to constantly rove towards the sky.

No one had mentioned much of anything, because the year before that they had buried Nellie in the soft earth beside the lake and they had all tacitly agreed not to talk about it. Maybe that’s what growing up is like--finding more and more things that no one is willing to say. Holding a grief in you that sometimes feels so bright and all-consuming that it can’t possibly be real.

“She’ll be okay,” Jo says, quiet so as not to kill April and Ripley’s buzz. “The forest loves her.”

But that’s a cold comfort, because they have all spent the same six summers learning that the forest’s love can be the most terrifying force in the world.

---------

It doesn’t take long at all before a familiar sound comes rolling in from the mountain. It’s a sound like dinosaurs, like goliaths, like the world collapsing in on itself.

It’s a sound that heralds the approach of Bubbles, who these days is about the size of a house.

I don’t know! Molly had said, laughing, the first time they had seen him again. I guess he was just a baby when we met him. I’ve been feeding him a lot of peanut butter lately, maybe that’s it.

Bubbles crashes through the trees, chittering so loud that it sounds like the laughter of a god. On his back, perched awkwardly against the scruff of his neck, sits Molly.

She does look okay. Their home hasn’t killed her yet.

There’s a little more white in her hair, a little more curl to her fingernails. But she’s smiling so wide it’s almost like they’re just here to catch up, like just for today they can afford to be a group of friends and nothing else.

Later, of course, will come the campfire, and the birds falling silent, and even the cicadas forgetting to cry, and they will map out another fraction of the world. They’ll find another dozen stone men, sleeping still enough to be dead. They’ll find perhaps hundreds of potential apocalypses, and they’ll spend the month eating little and sleeping less, preventing the end of the world again and again and again until they can’t even remember what they’re saving.

But right now, Molly slides down Bubbles’ side and yells “Guys!” and the summer bursts into being.

#lumberjanes week #lumberjanes #my writing #sorry about the weird formatting this website is a genuinely terrible place to publish writing

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mollymauk-teafleak · 4 years

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Benzaiten Steel and the Case of Mistaken Identity

Ben has a very awkward morning on the Carte Blanche...

Just a fun little scene from a happier, better universe where Ben is alive and happy and committing intergalactic crimes with his brother and their new family.

Please consider reblogging or leaving a comment over on Ao3!

---

Contrary to popular belief, there were a lot of differences between the Steel Twins.

Sure, there was the obvious stuff like the hairstyle and the general disposition, how you could tell which one you’d bumped into on any given day by whether they were smiling or scowling. There was the dress sense and the scars and the tattoos that didn’t match, except for the one. And, of course, the different number of eyes.

But Benten had always thought it was the smaller differences, the ones nobody noticed, that mattered. That made them Juno and Benzaiten, not just the Steel Twins. Not that he resented being seen as one of a matched set, of course not. It was wonderful to work with Juno on the Carte Blanche, to live in the same space as him again and see him every day, tired in the mornings and working furiously into the evenings, to sit with him and have meals as a family with the rest of their crew. To always have him in arms reach, to show him a funny video on his comms or hang off his shoulders as they stood together. To use their nearly but not identical faces in their work, making people believe there was only one of them and seeing their faces when it all fell into place.

Benten knew how it felt to lose his brother and he never wanted to go back to that.

Still, it was nice to have their own individual quirks even if they went unnoticed. Like this, like how Benten was always the early riser while Juno would stay in bed as long as decent society allowed him. He’d gotten used to it as a kid; the three buses he had to take to his dance class had meant getting up just before sunrise six days out of seven. Juno’s hobbies, which were what Ben charitably called his obsessions, his research or his work meant he stayed up late buried in files and data, seeing patterns in it that no one else would, with one eye or two. Often when they were teenagers, he’d be up and about to head out just as Juno was dragging his carcass to bed.

That had led to an intimate familiarity with another difference, how each twin took his coffee.

Benten had the kitchen of the Carte Blanche to himself, the SimSun lights just kicking into gear. Soon the ship would come to life, the noises of some mechanical fix going on from the cargo bay as Jet began his first task of the day, Buddy humming to herself as she sat in her cabin and made the impossible possible, the clatter of Vespa sharpening tools in the med bay either to hurt or to heal, the hammering of fingers on keys as Rita worked at her comms, over the too loud chatter of her stream. And Ransom...well, Ransom doing whatever he did on a morning with his usual eerie silence. All that would come but for now it was quiet, just the sound of his bare feet sticking to the tiles as he moved around and the song he was whistling.

Today was going to be a good day, Benten told himself triumphantly. They were back in charted space which meant he could video call Mick, hearing his boyfriend’s voice and seeing his beautiful, ridiculous grin for the first time in weeks. The thousands of miles between them would shrink to the width of a comms screen and everything would feel better.

And it would start with coffee. He did feel a little pang of guilt at only making two cups, one for him and one for Juno, but it was hard to break traditions that were decades old. He’d always left one waiting for his brother in their crappy little Oldtown kitchen, for when he’d reluctantly follow him into consciousness. He’d always wanted the first thing Juno knew when he woke up was that someone was looking out for him. And to drink some coffee because he probably looked like shit.

Juno liked to pretend he was the toughest, meanest lady around, making Benten wonder if anyone else knew he took his coffee with three sugars and enough cream to make it barely a few shades above white. He mixed in each spoonful of freeze dried coffee and powdered, stasis milk carefully, though it would never taste like the real stuff you got planetside. There was a lot about long haul space travel that sucked. The food was ninety percent of it.

Still, it was hot and sweet and prickling with caffeine, in the mug Rita had painted herself with ‘world’s best boss’ printed on the side, and Benten knew his brother would really appreciate it. It would make him smile in that rough, crooked way he did, the smile that didn’t come out very often but Ben wished it would. People deserved to see it.

He stopped whistling as he balanced the mugs in his hands, trying really hard not to slop any over the sides. Sure the cleaning bots would take care of any spills but Benten had always felt mean about giving them any work to do. The kitchen door slid shut behind him, the mechanism not quite what it had been when the ship was new and making more noise than it should. Juno’s room wasn’t far, none of them had spread out much from the others even with all the rooms to choose from. He should only be a few doors down.

But as Ben moved past the bathroom door, he heard the sound of running water and his brother’s unmistakable rough voice, singing as he showered. Ben grinned to himself, pausing a moment to listen while Juno butchered a peppy, upbeat dance number that had come on the radio the other day. He had a good voice, though he’d never admit it, this just wasn’t his vibe. Still, he sang it cheerily and Ben could imagine him bouncing on the balls of his feet and swaying his hips in time to the beat as he soaped his hair.

Why was he up so early? What had him in such a good mood? Ben wondered briefly before realising he didn’t care all that much. What mattered was Juno smiling, singing, dancing, it didn’t matter why. Clearly, life on the Carte Blanche was doing him good, shaking him out of the dark place he’d been in ever since he’d lost the eye, regained it and lost it again. Just as Ben had hoped when he’d agreed to come with his brother and live as an interplanetary thief.

He had to take a few deep breaths so he didn’t cry then and there, just hearing his brother doing something as simply alive as singing in the shower.

Benten kept walking, thinking he would just leave Juno’s coffee in his room for him to come back to. And then maybe he’d ask him to play video games or watch a stream or ask if he could work on the stuff for their next job in his room. Anything just to be near him and see the light back on in his eye, to know for sure that he’d really got his brother back.

Benzaiten was still lost in his own thoughts as he approached the bunk Juno had claimed as his own, the one with the glitter covered sign that read ‘Mister Steel’s Room’ in Rita’s handwriting, the same as the ones she’d made for all of them on their first day aboard. He was so distracted, he couldn’t even be startled when the door opened before he was anywhere near it.

Or when Ransom stepped through, wearing nothing but a tiny pair of boxer shorts that covered very little and suggested very heavily what they did cover. That and a shirt of Juno’s that Ben recognised immediately, oversized so the neck draped to leave one shoulder bare. A shoulder covered in dark, mouth shaped shadows.

Ben stopped dead, eyes snapping wide. Every time he’d seen Ransom before now, he’d been perfectly made up and poised to the point of near absurdity, in his sleek, expensive outfits and coiffed hair and sharp smile. He’d been practically scared of the guy, not least because of how Juno reacted to him and wouldn’t say why, no matter how many times Benten tried to steer the conversation that way to find out more.

Now he wished he knew less.

Ben opened his mouth but couldn’t get any sound out, he was too stunned at the realisation that Ransom was actually human and not a perfectly styled doll of some kind. So Ransom just yawned, exactly like a cat would right down to the way he smacked his tongue after, and blinked, eyes useless with sleep and without his glasses.

“I thought you were showering, dear heart,” he mumbled, his slick accent muddied and rougher than it ever seemed.

And then, before Ben could make any kind of protest, Ransom closed the distance between them and kissed him languidly, hand slipping around his waist to grab a handful of...something that erased any doubt Ben had been clinging to as to what this man was doing in his brother’s bedroom.

Instantly, Ben froze solid, eyes wide with the kind of panic only rabbits facing down the headlights of oncoming cars and people in this exact situation could experience. A heartbeat later, Ransom did the exact same, unfortunately leaving him in that position for a handful of agonsing, painful seconds. When he finally jumped back, he looked very, very awake. In fact, he looked like he might never sleep again.

“So…” Ben cleared his throat, grimacing, “You’re sleeping with my brother, huh?”

Ransom’s blush was fearsome, more than a master thief’s really should be, “I...my sincerest apologies, Benzaiten, I was only...um, your brother...I…of you have any concerns about his...um, his virtue-”

Ben could have screamed cutting across him quickly, “I really do not want to hear the slightest thing about my brother’s virtue. Just...give him this,” he thrust the coffee at Ransom, “And never speak of this again. To him but especially to me. Agreed?”

Ransom took a deep breath, taking the coffee and hiking the shirt up to his neck, like that would erase the hickeys from existence, “Agreed.”

Eventually Benzaiten would realise he was happy about this. He would recontextualise a hundred glances between him and Ransom, he would learn to read the emotion in Juno’s voice whenever he talked about him, what was masked in the intensity of it. He would realise that finally someone loved Juno exactly how he deserved to be loved.

But for now, he was going to lock his door, call his boyfriend and scream into a pillow and wish with all his heart that more people would learn to see the differences between him and Juno.

#the penumbra podcast #jupeter #ben lives au #tpp #juno steel #benzaiten steel #peter nureyev #aurinko crime family #gonna write more for this ben lives au so if you have an requests send em in #please comment or reblog #pwease...

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feverinfeveroutfic · 3 years

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chapter six: the black night

Sam and Alex spent about an hour of that first day in Germany there in the hotel room, away from the world, and with only each other. Neither of them were fatigued from the overnight flight. She had considered on taking her journal out for herself and for a drawing of something, much like how she made a special drawing for the show in England. But she had no idea if she should share her work with Alex, especially when he caught a glimpse of her doodling a sunflower on the inside of the journal's cover.

He sat next to her on the bed, in his little shorts, white socks, and his Gary Moore shirt, and with his legs pulled up a bit, and his hands right between his thighs. She gasped at his looking on at what she was doing and she covered up the doodle with her hand. He in turn gasped in response to that. She realized that he had seen her art but he hadn't known that it was actually her.

“Is it okay if I have a peek?” he asked her in a small voice and with his eyebrows raised which enlarged his deep eyes a bit.

“It's—It's kind of private, though,” she told him.

“I liked it, though,” he confessed, still in a small voice. “Basquiat died a few weeks ago, so I like to see another artist ascend to the position of greatness at some point.”

“I'm no Basquiat, though,” she insisted.

“Well, yeah. Every artist is unique. Basquiat was one of a kind—and even from a small sliver of a glimpse into your art book here, I can tell that you yourself are one of a kind. And that little thing you were drawing just there piqued my interest a bit. So—” He bowed his head and he raised his eyebrows even more, which softened his face to that of a young boy. “—is it okay if I have a little peek?”

He then lifted his head.

“I mean, it's only fair. You got to see the beginnings of our new album—twice! You're also seeing the transition of eras between albums.”

She swallowed and she leaned forward a bit to make sure that they were alone in the hotel room: Greg had gone off with Eric and Louie to have breakfast, while Chuck and Tiffany went out somewhere.

She then moved her hand out of the way to show him the little sunflower.

“Oh! Have you seen the painting that Vincent van Gogh did? The one of the sunflowers?”

“I have, yes! A few times, actually! It's—probably one of my favorites from him, to be honest.”

His face then lit up and he snapped his fingers.

“You know—we are in Europe, and on the western side of the Iron Curtain no less. It's not like we're back on the West Coast where you kind of have to set aside a whole few days just to go from L.A. to some place in Oregon or wherever. We can get on a train and go up to Frankfurt and visit a museum.”

“Would you take me there?” she gasped at that.

“Samantha, this is Europe,” he told her. “Ever since the war ended, they've been all about a revival of culture here. So—you know, I don't really wanna sit around here in my shorts and watch German TV all day long, either. I know you don't, too.”

“I don't,” she confessed with a shake of her head.

“Well, then.” He clicked off the television and he stretched out his long lanky legs before him. “Let me put some pants on and we'll catch the next train up to Frankfurt. It's only a few hours anyways.”

“Maybe we can go up to Copenhagen, too?”

He stopped. “If there's time today, we shall see.” He flashed her a wink and then he swung his legs over the edge of the mattress, and he walked over to the bathroom with his jeans. Sam closed her journal and she tucked her pencil right up next to the spine as she set it off to the side on the bed cover. She climbed off herself to put her shoes back on; soon he came back out with his black hair a bit more frizzy than she had seen before and a big silver skull ring on his right hand.

“I can see you being a continental of sorts, Alex,” she confessed.

“A continental?” he laughed.

“Yeah. I mean, you're smart and you're in touch with the world at large, and you like art, too.”

“I dunno,” he said with a shrug, “I feel like if you're considered a continental, you actually have to hail from the continent of Europe. Remember, the last name is not only Jewish but it's Eastern European.”

He adjusted the big ring on his right ring finger: it almost looked too big for his hand.

“Why a skull?” she chuckled at him.

“Why not?” he asked as he flashed it to her. “It's actually a symbol of life. Like a carpe diem—a reminder that the clock is ticking for me and for all of us. I also wanna think for myself, too. I've also got it on my right hand because I ain't married.”

“Mr. Swinger,” she teased him, and he scoffed at that. “You are in fact a continental!” She picked up her purse and slung it over her shoulder.

“I've got a bit of money on me,” he assured her. “It's not a lot 'cause of the whole exchange rate and everything, but it's better than nothing, though.”

“I've got money, too,” she told him as they stepped out of there and into the hallway. He shut the door and tucked the room key into his front pocket.

“Remember if someone asks us, we're just hanging out together,” she told him as they walked on to the lobby and the front doors.

“Well, yeah, of course.” He chuckled at that, and they kept on going to the sidewalk outside. Chuck and Tiffany strode back into the hotel right then.

“Where you guys going?” he asked them in a big jovial voice.

“Frankfurt,” Alex promptly replied. “Taking the train up.”

“Have fun, kids,” Tiffany said with a smile on her face.

A beautiful but gray day there in Bavaria: Alex peered up to the sky overhead with his eyes squinted and his lips parted a bit as if he yearned for a glass of water.

“Think I could've brought a jacket with me?” he wondered aloud; the hazy sunlight made his smooth skin appear even more smooth than before. The little tuft of gray almost stood straight up over his brow.

“Nah, I think we'll be fine,” Sam assured him as she took out her sunglasses from her purse and put them upon her face. They walked side by side down the sidewalk: right at the corner was the sign to the train station, across the street and down the block from there.

“The trains around here run like clockwork,” he told her as they awaited at the corner, “especially those in Switzerland.”

“Like literal clockwork over there,” she said with a grin on her face.

“Exactly!” he chuckled at that. “They're nothing like the trains or the buses back in the States.” He ran his fingers through his hair, and especially through his gray stripe. “Think it's time to dye my hair again.”

“Why's that?” she asked him.

“To rid of this little thing of gray on my head.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“I kinda like it.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. It's interesting. Like, why is it in a single little plume upon your head like that and not all over?”

“I wish I knew,” he confessed and they crossed the street together. Once he had caught up to her, he spoke up again.

“A few years back, I was brushing my hair and I happened to look down to the sink, and I saw a gray hair there. I picked it up and I wondered where it could've come from. So I showed it to my mom and she goes, 'oh, it's probably from your dad.' But my dad's completely and totally bald, though. He hasn't had hair on his head since before I was born—at least that's according to her, anyway.”

“Wow.” Sam was stunned by that.

“Yeah, and soon another one grew back there.” She thought of the nickname she, Aurora, and Marla had given him at the Legacy shows: the boy with the pearl in his hair. “And, you know that whole thing where you shouldn't pluck gray hairs because more will grow in their place?”

“Sort of, yeah.”

“Well, my mom told me not to do it for that very reason. What did I do?”

“You plucked that one?”

“Yeah. Next thing I know, I got a whole little pocket of gray right there in a few months time.”

She laughed at that.

“And yeah—I have to confess, I'm particularly self conscious of it.”

She stopped laughing right then.

“Aw. Really?”

He nodded his head at that with a downcast look upon his face.

“It makes me look old, you know?” he continued with a lean into her own face. “Like, I'm nineteen looking on at my twenties soon. I shouldn't be going gray yet.”

“But I like it, though,” she insisted. “Like I said, it's interesting.”

He shrugged at that. “I've had people ask me if it's a birthmark, but who knows, really.”

Sam thought about the conversation that she had had with Aurora and Marla about that little pearl of gray, about the boy with the pearl in his hair. She couldn't exactly recall everything about it as he held the train station door for her.

“Thank you, dear gentleman,” she told him as she took off her sunglasses before she headed inside.

“Herr Skolnick and Fraulein Shelley,” he corrected her as he shut the glass door behind them. “That's the only German I know so far. That's according to this guy Louie talked to while we were in there.”

“Pronounced 'froy line', you said?” she asked.

“Yeah, he broke it down for the two of us, too. It literally means 'young lady.' Kind of ironic because I'm actually younger of the two of us.”

Sam giggled at that and he led her over to the ticket booth, which stood wide open just for them.

“Two single adults to Frankfurt, please—round trip,” he kindly told the man, and he took his wallet out from his front pocket.

“A combination for you and your girlfriend, too?” he asked Alex in a light German accent, and he was taken aback by that.

“Oh, she's not my—” He gestured to Sam.

“Couples get half off on the midday rides,” he continued, and Alex and Sam looked on at each other with knowing glances.

“Uh—yeah, we'll take it,” Alex told the man; and he snickered at the whole notion. “Good idea, right, babe?”

“Yeah, baby!” Sam went along with it. Alex took out a couple of euros from hiding and the man inside handed him a pair of tickets.

“For the Amerikanischer and his kleine Dame.”

“How do we say 'thank you'?” he asked the man.

“Danke schoen. 'Please' is bitte.”

“Oh, right, right, right! Uh, yeah, danke schoen.” He gazed on at Sam with a bemused look on his face, but she couldn't help but giggle at him as he handed one of the two to her. All the way towards the platform, she resisted laughing more at him. They stood there in anticipation of the train and the gray sky overhead darkened a bit with more rain clouds. Alex cupped a hand to his mouth to stifle his laughter. Sam felt her face grow warm from the feeling.

“Man,” he muttered and he shook his head.

“For real. I was not expecting that.”

He snickered some more.

“Couldn't beat that with a stick, though,” he said in a low voice.

“No way.” Sam thought of Bill right then and his incessant penny pinching. At least there she was headed into an art museum in central Germany and not a little market the size of someone's house down the street from her. There was a good reason with Alex: if she put any thought into Bill's behavior, it would ruin her day out with Alex himself.

“I got us the parlor car, by the way,” he told her; far off to his left, the silver train turned the corner on the railroad.

“Oh, you big stud!” she joked as she knew the man in the booth was still in earshot from there. He chuckled at that. The train rolled up before them and they soon boarded it one after the other. They were greeted by the warmth and comfort of the parlor car: nothing like the parlor cars back in the States for sure.

They took the spots closest to the window, but before she took her seat there, Sam spotted a small bar tucked in the far corner of the car behind them.

“Care for some authentic German beer?” she offered him with a gesture towards the bar.

“Bitte, meine Dame,” he joked, and she giggled at him and then she stopped. “Wait, that was good. You are a continental!”

The train rolled forward and she made her way over to the heavy white stone bar tucked in the corner. The female tender with the short bob of maroon tinted black hair showed her a smile in response.

“Two glasses of—ooh, Belgian beer, please,” she said.

“Two glasses, you said?” the woman echoed in a thick French accent.

“Uh, yeah—for me and my boyfriend over there,” she told her, and she had a difficult time in stifling a giggle at that. The bartender poured her and Alex a pair of glasses of that rich dark Belgian beer; when she handed the first glass to Sam, she looked behind her to the seat next to the window and gasped.

“Oh, my god, 'e is a beautiful boy,” said the woman in a hushed voice.

“Yeah, I guess he is,” Sam told her with a shrug.

“No—cherie, listen to me. 'E is a beautiful young man. I 'ave never seen a boy so beautiful as 'im.” She turned her head back in Alex's direction: the way the gray light of the day glowed back onto his milky skin so it resembled to porcelain and onto the plume of gray upon his head, and his jet black hair appeared blacker than normal. She handed Sam the next glass of beer. “You Americans—you must take care of one another and love one another. Take good care of 'im.”

Even though Alex wasn't her boyfriend, she couldn't help but wonder how much longer they could carry the whole charade out there in Europe.

“How much are these?” she asked with a gesture to the glasses.

“Five euros, s'il vous plait.”

Sam handed her five bills and then she picked up the glasses. “Is it—merci?” she asked her.

“Oui! Merci beaucoup.”

“Uh, merci beaucoup! He's learning German and I'm learning French so it—just makes sense.”

“Right? Enjoy your ride, ma cherie.”

Sam felt her face grow warm once more as she headed back to the seat across from Alex.

“Looking—as—red as a—cherry—tomato,” he stammered given neither of them were sure the woman was within hearing range of them. Sam giggled at him and he shrugged his shoulders; she handed him the glass before she took a seat across from him.

“I should tell you that this place that we're playing at this weekend, Schweinfurt—it's a few miles from the Iron Curtain. Like the border to East Germany is literally right down the street from there. I looked at it on this atlas that my parents have before we left—it's nuts.”

“Oh, wow, really?”

“Yeah—and I saw the train route while I was getting tickets in there. It's right after Nuremberg, too. We get to Nuremberg and then we hang a left and we're in Schweinfurt. Apparently, we have a stopover there!”

“Cool! So we get to see a little peek at it?”

“Exactly. Stopover there and then it's onto Frankfurt. Beyond that is Cologne and Essen, and then Amsterdam. But that's a full day's trip, though—Munich to Amsterdam.”

“Like, something to set aside for a whole trip altogether.”

“Right! We went to Amsterdam last summer for that festival that we played—you know, Eindhoven. Beautiful there. You think Germany's beautiful. I wanted to visit the van Gogh museum but we were kinda strapped for time, though.”

“Some day,” she remarked.

“Definitely, some day.” He raised his glas to her and they made a toast to each other. They took a sip of the Belgian beer in unison: nothing like any drink Sam had had back in the States, or even the cocktails that she had with Marla back in England. This was strong and full but nothing to get the both of them drunk, however.

“Oh, my god,” she blurted out as she brought a hand to her chest.

“Yeah, that's unreal.” He gaped at the sensation and rolled his eyes a bit, and she giggled at him, and he showed her a smile in return.

Within the hour, they stopped over in Schweinfurt and Alex pointed out the window. Beyond the train station was a street: off in the distance, Sam could see the pavement recede back into the heart of the city. A part of her expected to see a full on brigade off in the distance but she knew that the Soviet Union still loomed over them, and even more so from the station there at the edge of West Germany. Indeed, she spotted two men on the sidewalk wrapped in red and black overcoats and with batons latched to their belts.

“Soviets,” Alex pointed out. “See the hammer and sickle on their chests?”

Sam took a closer look: embroidered on their chests were little medallions. Even from the train window, she could make out the shape of the hammer and sickle inside there. It almost didn't even look real, even from a distance.

“Oh, wow,” she breathed out.

“I remember when we came over here last summer to play at Eindhoven festival and Louie, Greg, and I came here to Germany first before Chuck and Eric did, and I saw one of them when we got close to the border. Probably the most surreal moment of my life. It's like 'oh my god, it's real.' You know what I mean?”

“Oh, yeah!”

Those men merely stood there on the sidewalk as if they awaited something. But within time, the train rolled out of the station and westward to Frankfurt. But at that point, it was almost three in the afternoon, which meant they only had a couple of hours to relish in an art museum.

But there was absolutely nothing in the world that Sam could get past and that was the big beaming smile on Alex's face the whole rest of the afternoon.

The cold expression that she had grown almost all too familiar with had completely vanished and gave way to one of true joy. In those few hours as they walked along the cobblestones and visited a bakery for a bite of late lunch of open faced sandwiches and Black Forest cake, and then they continued on in search of the arts to nourish themselves further, every time Sam looked over at him, he looked up at all the buildings around them with a sweet smile plastered on his face. The happiest he had been up to that point, and he wasn't even with Testament right at that moment.

They were alone together in Germany and he enjoyed every moment of it.

At one point as they walked to a bookstore on a corner, she considered putting her arm around his shoulder. She had to stop herself, however: he wasn't her boyfriend.

But he certainly felt like it as she bought him a big glazed sugar cookie from another bakery.

“I'm gonna gain so much weight hanging out with you, Samantha,” he joked as he took a slow sensual bite; he rolled his eyes into the back of his head as if he experienced an orgasm.

“Get some meat on those bones,” she retorted, and the bakers laughed at that.

By the time the sun hung low over the horizon, and the gray sky began to change colors to a rich royal blue, they began back to the train station. Alex lovingly patted his stomach by the time they stepped on the platform. She had never seen him more contented as they gave the conductor their tickets before they stepped aboard. He snuggled down in the seat by the window on the right side: that time, they didn't have a table between them.

“Back to Schweinfurt!” he declared with a big beaming smile on his face.

It was the happiest she had ever seen Alex; she nestled close to him as if he was in fact her boyfriend at that point. His body was warm from the food, his face was rosy from the Belgian beer, and his hair was soft from the moisture in the gray skies overhead. Even if it was only for a few hours, she knew she had done him good that day. She had done what the bartender in the previous train wanted her to do for him.

As the train started moving, he leaned back in the seat and closed his eyes. That time there was no arm rest between them, but a bit of a divet separated their seats, so she couldn't lean all the way over to him to cuddle with him. But he was warm and full: she had to relish in the soft feeling from his body.

He gave his dark hair a little toss and he looked at her with that sweet smile still upon his face.

“Still wanna dye your hair again?” she asked him as she eyed the gray tuft over his brow. He shrugged his shoulders.

“Don't really know, to be honest,” he confessed, “after today, I just might keep it.”

“As black as the very night itself,” she whispered to him.

“As black as night—but the gray as bright as day.” He winked at her when he said that and she beamed at him.

Soon, they made their stopover in Schweinfurt and that time around, they had enough time to step off the train. Sam went on to the ladies' room while Alex made his way over to the ticket booth for a question.

She surfaced out of there when she spotted those black curls right in front of her, but without his guitar on his back.

“Hey, Joey,” she greeted him in a soft voice, and he turned his head and flashed her a grin.

“What you doin' here?” he asked her.

“Oh, just—checking the place out,” she replied; she didn't dare tell him that she was there with Alex lest he fly off the handle at the mention of his name.

“You know, we're only a little ways away from the border of East Germany,” he told her.

“Oh, yeah, yeah, I know.”

“We get any closer—goin' down this street here—we get stopped by the cops over there.” He glanced up to the clock on the far wall. “We better hustle on back to the train.”

“I should ask you what you're doing here, then,” she retorted back to him, and she couldn't resist the grin on her face.

“I'm doin' what you're doin' and checkin' the whole place out. I got nothin' better to do, to be perfectly honest wit' ya.”

“Well...” She thought about Alex in the back of the train station, and his talking to the man in the ticket booth over there.

“Well, what? You wanna mosey on back to Munich and go grab a li'l bite to eat?”

The warm, soft feeling that Alex had bestowed onto her was still powerful and she desired for more of it. “That's real kind of you, Joey, but—”

“Oh, c'mon! You're my girlfriend after all. I can't hang out with my girlfriend in Germany?”

“You have to ask first,” she pointed out with a wag of her finger. The ringing of a bell caught their attention.

“We have to get going,” he told her and he raised his dark eyebrows at her. He began towards the train outside but Alex was still somewhere back there. They were about to leave soon; she chased after Joey towards the platform.

“By the way, I should have to ask you—how'd you get so tan?”

“I got a bit sunburnt a few months ago,” he told her with a shrug of his shoulders. “It all just peeled right off and underneath was all as brown as a coffee bean.”

The soles of his shoes padded on the concrete before them and she hurried after him. She peered over her shoulder: Alex was nowhere to be seen behind them.

Joey reached out for her hand and he led her onto the parlor car of the train, the exact same car as when she and Alex rode up to Amsterdam together. He took one step onto the floor of the doorway and she followed suit. She hung there in anticipation of him. He was somewhere in there.

She would stand there and wait for him if she had to. Even if it meant blocking passengers from boarding themselves. Even if it meant throwing all of the trains completely off schedule from each other.

“Sam?” Joey called back to her.

“Coming!” she replied, and she peered out to the incoming darkness. He ducked out from the station. She recognized that little tuft of gray from afar. He craned his neck in search of her. Even though he wasn't her boyfriend, he certainly felt as such right there as he looked for her.

She waved at him so as to grab his attention. She dared not call his name given Joey was right behind her.

“Sam!” Joey called again.

“Alex!” she blurted out. “Alex!” He turned his head right as the last few passengers boarded the car in front of her. He bolted right there and ran towards her. The train was about to leave right there.

“Hey!” Alex called after her.

“Sam, c'mon!” Joey insisted and he grabbed her by the hand and he took her aboard the train. The doors closed before Alex could come on board himself. He pounded on the doors but it was useless and too late at that point. The train rolled forward right then and there.

“HEY WHAT THE FUCK!” he shouted on the other side of the glass; his big voice echoed over the train. Joey dragged her to the seats on the other side of the train, unbeknownst to it all. Sam stood there before him, unsure as to what to do next. She knew that Joey was turning a blind eye to him.

“HEY!” Alex called out and he waved his arms about. She gasped at the sight of him there on the platform with his arms straight up in the air. She turned to Joey, oblivious to what had happened.

“Oh, no,” she muttered under her breath. She knew that the next train would be there soon enough, but she still left Alex behind, and about a mile away from the border no less. At least they were still in West Germany and they hadn't crossed over the Iron Curtain at any given moment. But if what he had told her about it remained true, he was still potentially within harm's way.

“FUCK!” was the last thing she heard before the train went around the corner and away from him. Her false boyfriend left behind about a mile from the edge of the Iron Curtain, and she went with her real boyfriend at that point.

“Care for a cuppa Joey?” Joey himself offered to her with that lopsided grin on his face.

“Um—sure.” She couldn't help from feeling out the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, and especially the heavy feeling inside of her chest. She left Alex behind, but then again, it wasn't exactly her fault. The train was about to leave.

Their small white china cups of coffee soon arrived and Joey was eager for the first taste. She couldn't enjoy it however. She kept on thinking about Alex, all by himself at a strange train station. She also missed the nickname Joey had given the cups of coffee as well: she couldn't exactly enjoy that for herself, either.

It would be another hour and a half before they returned to the station in Munich, and all the while, she thought of him. She wanted to cry but she couldn't, not with Joey right there in front of her.

By the time they reached the station in Munich, it was almost nine thirty and she couldn't bear to look at everyone because she knew someone would ask her what happened. Lucky for her, Joey led her to a small stretch of grass right across the street from their hotel, one that overlooked a small dark lake; before them was a narrow cobblestone walkway and a few metal tables accompanied with spindly chairs. He gestured for her to have a seat on the chair closest to her.

“I'll be right back,” he told her, and she nodded at him. She sat there, all alone, in a foreign city, and she had no idea as to what to say to Alex when he showed up again, that is if he did. Surely he knew that she waited for him at the door. Surely he would understand.

Joey soon returned to her from across the street with two cups of water in hand, and he handed her the one in his left.

“So—you guys are—touring?” she started with a clearing of her throat; she took a sip and the cold feeling upon her tongue was all she needed to feel right then.

“Yeah.” Joey turned his attention to her, complete with a thoughtful look on his face. “By the way, you've been awful quiet lately. I don't ever recall you being so quiet.”

“Oh, it's—it's nothing,” she sputtered out. “I'm just—in awe of—everything.”

Something moved about down on the grass. She spotted that little tuft of gray hair over his brow. He flashed Joey a dirty look and he looked at her with a cold glare. Even from a distance, she could feel his anger. She took a sip of her water as he walked on over to the dry patch of grass down by the waters.

Joey gave his black curls a little toss back from his neck and he showed her that lopsided grin. He then rested the side of his head within the palm of his hand.

“God, you know—it really is just so beautiful here,” he remarked with a glance up to the black sky overhead.

“Yeah—it really is,” she said with a look right into his eyes. “Like—upstate, but more.”

“Right?” She looked into his eyes so she wouldn't have to see what Alex was doing. But she could still see him out of the corner of her eye. Joey peered over his shoulder to the cobblestone walkway behind him with his dark lips still upturned in a joyous smile.

Alex had taken his spot there on the grass not too far from them, and he leaned back onto his elbows and stretched out his legs. Sam wondered where exactly she had gone wrong there with him. She would have to go back to the room with him, after she left him there within range of East Germany to his own whims. She left him there all by himself and he had hardly any money of him to top it all off.

When Joey wasn't looking, she had to talk to him.

Joey himself downed the whole cup of water in four large gulps.

“Let me get you some dinner,” he offered her as he set the cup down on the table.

“Oh, no, Joey it's—it's okay. I'm not hungry.”

“What?” he asked her with a bit of a mocking tone to his voice.

“I really am not hungry.”

“Oh, come on,” he encouraged her. “Some brats and sauerkraut to fill your cute li'l belly—I wanna treat my girlfriend well!”

She swallowed as he stood to his feet and rounded the side of the table. She watched him go across the street to the cafe next door to the hotel: she watched him go inside.

And then she turned her head to the right. Alex had turned around so he could watch her from a distance.

She walked up to him and he glared at her.

“Hey—about earlier,” she started, and he shook his head and he brought a hand to his brow as if he had a headache. She swallowed. She knew she had messed up by leaving him there, and she had to face the music with him, but she couldn't resist the sinking feeling in her chest.

“Alex, listen, he's my boyfriend,” she insisted, and she could feel her stomach twisting itself into a tight knot. Alex stood upright then and he towered over her.

“I know,” he said, terse. “But what I can't understand is what you continually see in him, though. And you ditched me, too!”

She paused right there and her mouth fell dry as a bone, more dry than any alcoholic drink ever left it feeling in the past. He shook his head about at her and nothing could deny the look of disgust on his face, either.

“You,” he stammered and he grew angrier and angrier right there, right before her, “you—you—fucking ditched me right by the boundary to East Germany. You ditched me when you knew damn well that there are Soviet soldiers over that way. How—” His bottom lip trembled and his face turned bright pink. The look of anger on his face twisted into one of heartbreak. They weren't in a relationship but she could tell that she had broken his heart.

“How—How—How could you?” he sputtered and he buried his face in his hands. Sam lunged for him but he pushed her hands away from him.

“No!” he yelped with furious tears in his eyes. “No! No, god dammit!”

“Alex, listen to me—”

“How could you become the very thing you are up against!” His voice broke to where she could barely hear him.

“What?” Sam demanded, stunned.

“You behaved just like that sad sack of nothing you call a friend, Aurora. She made my birthday all about her—you made our day out all about you. How could you!”

“Don't insult Aurora like that!” she spat, but Alex bowed his head again and he ran away from her and back to the lobby. She fumed at him even though he couldn't see her. How could he compare her to Aurora! But at the same time, as she stood there on the grass with her hands down by her waist, she couldn't help but wonder exactly what he meant by that.

She had gone off with Joey and left Alex at the train station, right within range of those Soviet soldiers.

She did.

But he had no right to say that about Aurora, even after everything she had done in the past year.

But his tears told her a different story. He wept at the very notion itself. Joey had already gone back to his room as well. She fetched up a sigh.

She had dinner with Joey but she wasn't in any mood to be with him after the fact. The day was about Alex, and she had been caught up in her own unfinished business all the while.

“I might just go to bed early, babe,” she told him as Joey walked her back to the room. “I have a headache. You know, with all the traveling and whatnot.”

“Oh, of course,” he replied, still with a thoughtful look on his face. “Besides, we're supposed to be back in our rooms at eleven, and here it is ten thirty.” Before she reached into her pocket for the room key, Joey leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on her lips. A feeling that she had missed.

It felt so long ago, and yet it was all within her hands right there.

“I love you,” he whispered into her mouth.

“I love you more,” she retorted, and he chuckled at that.

“You have a good night,” he whispered again, and he gave her another kiss before she unlocked the door and headed inside. She set down her purse on the table: Chuck and Tiffany had gone out again, and Greg was nowhere to be seen, but Alex had already crawled into bed. The bed sheet hugged his slender body so she kept her eye on the smooth curvature while she changed her clothes right there next to the bed.

She rounded the foot of the bed so she could look into his slumbering face. But he rolled over before she could so much as peel back the covers; he breathed hard and heavy as she crawled underneath the bed sheet next to him.

“Alex—” she whispered.

But he never acknowledged back to her. Joey was in fact her boyfriend, but at the same time, she had left him there at the train station. He sniffled and she knew that he was crying again.

“Alex, listen,” she started right into his ear. “I'm terribly sorry about earlier. I know you're hurt and I hope you can forgive me. But as I've said, Joey is my boyfriend. I couldn't help it. I hope you can forgive not just me but the both of us. You also had no right to insult Aurora like that. Yeah, she's been a complete egotistical bitch since she got married, but I still consider her a friend.”

But he was silent still. She sighed through her nose and she lay back down in the bed with her arms folded across her chest as she awaited for Greg to rejoin them. The whole incident left her divided. Too divided to think things over and too tired to even consider the very suggestion itself.

But she managed to fall asleep before she got to see him walk through that door, and she awoke by the time he had climbed into bed next to her.

Alex was sound asleep himself. They had trapped her in bed, but she could slide down the bed to the foot. Careful not to wake either of them, she sank underneath the covers and she inched to the foot of the bed. She slithered out from under the covers and onto the floor.

There was one guy she could talk to about all of this as she swiped the key card to the room before she crept out to the hallway. She squinted her eyes against the low lights upon the ceiling. Held low against the black night outside there.

She adjusted the straps of her camisole before she closed the door behind her. All alone in the hallway there, she continued on towards the very end. Every time she blinked her eyes, there was that image of Alex crying. She couldn't shake the image from her mind. She had been a friend to him this whole entire time. She thought about what she had said about Aurora earlier as well. Still a friend, but she hadn't been one to her in almost a year at that point. He had more of an upper hand over that.

One other guy she knew she could visit, even when the going got tough overseas, right down the hall from them.

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bathtubjohnny · 3 years

Text

Chapter 1: Rough draft (Edited once for spelling/grammar)

TW: Bloody noses, descriptions of a corpse, mild gore and swearing, spooky zombie lady, bad formatting, rushed writing

Note: Please give me your sweet sweet feedback. Oh how I crave honest and good-hearted criticism.

*Thanks to a handful of members from a group chat for convincing me to post this*

The forest was dense enough to blot out the sun, almost completely plunging the path in darkness. It didn’t bother Sydney though; he was too focused on the building at the end of it. It was a church, and he stood in front of it, staring up at the grey steeple protruding from what was left of the roof. It was a miracle that it was still standing. The walls had been scorched by fire, and the once-beautiful stained glass windows had melted into colourful, wax-like puddles. He could still smell smoke even though the church burned an impossibly long time ago. It never occurred to Sydney that the surrounding woods were completely untouched by the fire, as if it had never happened in the first place.

The inside was different as Sydney pushed the double doors open. He didn’t recognize the inside. It was more spacious than what he remembered, but like the forest, untouched by the blaze. Instead of red carpeting there was a wooden floor; instead of oil paintings depicting the trial of Jesus, tapestries with horrific, indescribable images decorated the walls. The interior had an ancient feel to it, making Sydney feel insignificant as he stood before the rows of pews. He could tell that it wasn’t a Catholic church anymore. It was a haven for a religion that existed long before the concept of Christianity.

Across from Sydney and past the pews was a stone table where the altar should have been. There was a white sheet covering something laying across it. As he padded down the aisle towards it, he could see symbols etched into the stone, characters he couldn’t recognize. The closer he got the louder his ears rang, his sinuses becoming so congested that soon fluid began leaking down his chin. It wasn’t until he reached the table and saw the bright red droplets fall onto the stark white sheet covering it that he realized his nose was bleeding.

Ignoring his instinct to wipe away the blood, Sydney reached for the edge of the sheet and pulled it back. Underneath was a girl, or at least the body of one. Her skin was ashen and waxy, a greenish-blue in colour. Small blisters had begun to form on her cheeks and forehead, as if she had been sunburnt recently. Even though they were closed, Sydney could tell that her eyes were sunken into her skull.

“Syd?”

Pulling the sheet down further, Sydney saw that the girl’s arms had been placed palms facing up, leaving the undersides of her forearms exposed. On both of them were deep gashes, starting from her wrists and ending in the crooks of her elbows. The rest of her had begun to decay, but her wounds appeared recent, oozing thicker, darker blood than what was dripping from Sydney’s nose.

“Syd, are you awake?”

The sound of her inhaling made Sydney’s attention turn sharply back to her face as her jaw creaked open, sucking in air. He stumbled away as her eyes, covered in a watery blue film, flew open. Her head turned towards him with a snap, sending him falling backwards in shock. He hit the floor hard as she sat up, bones creaking and popping as she threw the sheet off her bloated body-

“Mr.Patrick!”

Sydney bolted up from his desk as the shout tore through his dream, nearly sending him toppling to the floor. Mrs. Bray was sitting on her desk glaring directly at Sydney, arms folded. A snort of laughter to his left made him blush as he realized he’d dozed off...again. “Uh, sorry.” He mumbled, slowly sitting back down and trying to ignore the eyes on him. Although Mrs. Bray had a stern look in her eyes, Syd was somewhat comforted by the fact that she was obviously trying not to smile.

“I get that there’s ten minutes left, but let’s try to stay awake, alright?” She sighed. “To those of you who may have dozed off, I’m not repeating myself about the assignment. You can ask your group. Now,” She side-eyed the room. ‘Is there anyone who isn’t in a group of three yet?”

Syd sneaked a quick glance across the room over at his close friend Lizzie Abrams. She caught his eye and shrugged apologetically, motioning to two other girls sitting near her. Feeling his cheeks heat up, Syd averted his eyes, staring down at his desk in embarrassment.

“We don’t have a third person in our group.” The voice to Syd’s left spoke up, making him turn. It was a girl in a worn, blue and white baseball cap, someone who Sydney unfortunately recognized. Her name was Morette Woodward, better known as Mo, and Syd knew her as being the one who broke his nose during dodgeball back in fifth grade.

She had one elbow propped up on her desk and was leaning her head against her hand while picking at her braces with the other. When she caught Sydney’s eye, she flashed him a toothy smirk.

Mrs. Bray glanced between the two and shrugged. “Perfect, evens out the groups. Now,” she turned to address the rest of the class. “I’m giving the last couple minutes of class to organize your chapters, so use your time wisely. Remember your book and your portfolio should be in at least six sections!”

Portfolio? Sydney rubbed his eyes and groaned, wondering what else he’d missed. Falling asleep at random times wasn’t a problem before, but lately he'd been feeling lethargic and finding himself unable to keep his eyes open for long periods of time.

“Hey, scooch your butt over next to us so we can talk better.” Mo nodded at a tall boy sitting beside her. Sydney didn’t know who it was, but thought he looked familiar. “Yeah hold on,” he turned his chair to face them before leaning forward. “So… what’re we doing exactly?”

“Man, you were really out, huh?” The tall boy said, giving Sydney a sympathetic grin. “You were pretty twitchy too. Were you dreaming or something?”

Syd blinked. “‘Twitchy’? What do you mean?”

“Like...mumbling and tensing up a lot,” He clenched his fists in emphasis. “It was kinda creepy. What were you dreaming about?” He was already talking again before Syd could reply. “Oh shit, you don’t know me. Sorry, I’m Henry Kaminer.”

Kaminer. Sydney didn’t know Henry, but definitely recognized the last name. He remembered reading about the Kaminers in the newspaper, and made a mental note not to bring it up.

“Oh. I’m Sydney. I don’t really remember what I dreamed of.” Sydney lied. Henry laughed. “Yeah, I heard. Isn't Sydney a girl's...? Whatever, nice to meet you Sydney."

Morette handed Sydney a sheet of paper. “I had an uncle Sid so no, it's not 'a girl's name'. Anyway, literally all we have to do is split the book up to read for a week, then do some fun little questions and activities at the end of each week." She flipped through her copy of To Kill a Mockingbird. "It's like the same stuff we did in grade 5, but with racism."

So she does remember. Sydney looked over his sheet of paper. "Oh."

"Yeah, it'll be easy." Morette leaned back in her chair and scrunched her nose up. "There's 31 chapters, but they're not too long. Let's just do five chapters each week and read whatever's left when we get to the last week." She tossed a stack of pink sticky notes at Sydney. "Use those as a bookmark."

Sydney looked down at the sticky notes. “...Thanks.”

___

“Hey Syd!”

Sydney paused at the front doors of the school just as he was about to walk through them. Henry hurried over to him, lime green beanie clutched in one hand, messenger bag in the other. The tall boy stopped beside him, huffing. “Man, I jumped down the stairs to catch up to you. Sorry, anyway. Walking home?”

Sydney pushed open the doors, nodding. “Yep. What about you?”

“Same here, but uh...which way are you going?”

“To the left.”

“Sweet! Mind if I tag along?”

“Sure,” As they made their way past groups of students waiting for their buses, they started walking down the sidewalk towards the nearby neighbourhoods. Syd, who barely made it to Henry’s elbows, couldn’t help but feel self-conscious with the giant beside him. “Do you live close to the school?” He asked. Henry shrugged. “Well, not really. To be honest I’m just tagging along to avoid my older brother, Marvin.” He chuckled a bit, but it sounded forced. “He’s got his driver’s licence and all, but…”

“But what?” Syd asked. Henry sighed. “He’s an asshole. I don’t feel like dealing with his anger issues today. So I’m here with you instead, little man. If that’s cool with you,”

“I’m not that little! But yeah, it’s cool.”

“Yeah you are, shortstack!!” Henry guffawed and rubbed the top of Sydney’s head with one hand. Syd swatted at his arm, but joined in the laughter. The two boys continued talking and joking around as they continued trekking down the street towards a crosswalk. The weather was warm for being early September, the sun beaming down on them helping to keep Sydney in high spirits.

The first week of school had been rough for him; being as timid as he was, making friends was hard enough in elementary school, never mind being in a new environment. For the longest time he’d considered Lizzie to be his closest friend, but they’d drifted apart over the summer, making him feel even more isolated than ever. As he listened to Henry telling him about his pet cat, Bowie, he felt a ray of hope that maybe he wouldn’t have to be so lonely after all.

“...he’s a really sweet boy, but he’s pretty ugly,” Henry was telling Syd. “He’s got this weird skin condition though so there’s like almost no hair on his body. I think it’s kinda hilarious, but every time he sits down his butthole sticks to our table.”

Syd snorted. “Gross.” He stopped at the edge of the crosswalk as the traffic light turned red, Henry following suit. “I don’t have any pets. My mom’s allergic to animal hair. It makes her sneeze.”

“Damn. No siblings either? Sounds quiet.” Henry leaned against a pole covered in colourful flyers and shielded his eyes from the sun with his hand. Sydney took a couple steps back so he was standing in Henry’s shadow and decided that tall people weren’t that bad. “Hey,” he said. “My house is just up ahead, what about you?”

Henry shrugged and shoved his hands in his hoodie pockets. “Not me little man, I’m heading to the right but maybe I can come over and wreak havoc at your place sometime.” He flashed Sydney a grin and straightened up, a couple flyers sticking to him before fluttering to the ground. “Whoops, those seemed important.”

Syd rolled his eyes and laughed as Henry stooped down to scoop them off the sidewalk. “Nice going there, big guy.” He joked. “Careful you don’t bring the pole down too.” Henry didn’t respond; instead he slowly stood up, clutching a white flyer and staring down at it. Sydney felt his smile fade when he saw the dismayed expression on Henry’s face.

“...What is it?”

Henry swallowed hard before handing Sydney the poster. The white paper was crumpled and soft from being left outside, showing signs that it had been there a while. A photo of a man with a goofy grin and a buzzcut holding a balding cat was in the center. The words were in bright red at the top of the page as he read them.

MISSING PERSON

Jeremiah Lee Kaminer

Also goes by ‘Jerry’

19 years old, blue eyes, blonde, slim build, 6’0”

Last seen November 27th wearing a leather jacket, blue jeans, and brown hiking boots. If you have seen him or have any information of his whereabouts, please contact the Denville City Police.

“Henry,” Sydney glanced up from the page. Henry was fidgeting in place, avoiding making eye contact. “Is he...?”

“Yeah,” he mumbled, staring at the ground. “It’s our oldest brother. He’s been missing for over a year. Went into a bar one night for a drink, and just…. Never came out.” A cold gust of wind sent the remaining flyers drifting down the sidewalk as they caught the breeze. Henry’s hands tightened around the poster, creasing the paper before he folded it into a square. “Whatever. I gotta go.” He turned and started heading down the street, leaving Sydney alone.

Syd watched him walk away, wondering whether he should call out or not. Deciding not to, Sydney went home, ignoring the icy loneliness that had begun to creep back.

#writing #creative writing #writing prompts #horror #ocs

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thessalian · 4 years

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Thess vs Temp to Perm

Jobs are like buses.

Yeah, there’s the bit about “you wait ages, and then three come along at once”. That’s the standard response, at least here in the UK.

But there’s also the “They’re time-consuming linear nightmares of getting where you need to be; something to suffer through in order to survive and maybe snatch some tiny semblance of fun” bit.

We’ll address the first one today, though.

I’ve had a couple of interviews. One of them, I liked my chances. Not the best commute, but within that 90 minute window that the Universal Credit people insist is expected. I know this because I have done that role as a temp. In fact, it was my last temp role before lockdown. When I first applied for this role, I actually emailed Agency Guy to say, “Hey, you guys threw me at this role before and they’re advertising for a permanent person; the last time I worked there, it was because you asked if they needed anybody so maybe you could call them and see if they want me to come in and work temporary, see if we can maybe increase my chances of a temp-to-perm thing?”

No response. Zero. Not even an acknowledgement. Not even a “They don’t work with our agency anymore since the twice I screwed up information with your booking” (which he did, incidentally; first was the day he didn’t tell me that my contract was ending and I found out I was out of a job when I was asked to hand in my swipe card at the end of the day, and second was when they screwed up my start date the second time they sent me there). Fine, I thought, and moved on.

Interview happened on Tuesday by Zoom. This morning, I got the callback; they were offering me the job. I’m not getting complacent until I have a signed contract logged with HR, but since that should not in any way be a problem, I’m basically saying I have a job and will be starting in a couple of weeks.

And then, just this afternoon, I get an email from Agency Guy. “Role at [Other Hospital We’ve Sent You To Before]! Eight weeks, maybe longer! Lemme know if you’re interested!”

I know it’s in their interests to keep me on their books as a temp. They make more out of me as a temp. But Agency Guy never kept in touch the entire six months, and honestly, I’m about half past done with this temping shit. So it did give me no small amount of pleasure to say, “Sorry; I have a permanent job (the one I told you about in my email a few weeks ago, and thanks for giving me a leg-up in terms of the interview by sending me there, by the way) and I won’t be able to commit to an eight-week contract”.

It’s the responsible thing to do, honestly. And while work of any variety is good right now, I’d rather hold out for the permanent job that I can hang onto for awhile than go back to the rampant uncertainty. Besides, Agency Guy really does have some communication issues, as energetic and positive as he generally is when he has something.

Oh, yeah, and I have a job now, basically. Fingers crossed something doesn’t go horribly wrong with the contract stage. Yeah, I know, I know, I know, but the way the last few months have been, I’m going to be paranoid until I actually have a signed contract.

#Thess has a day job #Probably

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commanderquill · 5 years

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Don’t Be Chicken!

Because my readers are the most patient, lovely people on earth, here’s a little treat: Remember that side story to One Step Closer I mentioned, where Tim and Jay spend a day chasing chickens around Gotham? Well, it’s slowly but surely being made a reality, and here’s a sneak peek!

Hope you guys enjoy! It’s the most fun I’ve had writing something in a while.

So, it starts like this:

...Actually, scratch that, Jason has no idea how it starts because he has no idea how anything starts with Tim. One moment he’s just minding his own business, the next his best friend is knocking at his window and telling him they’re going to the haunted clock tower.

It isn’t that Jason thinks ghosts are real or anything. It’s just that Tim has the tendency to trip over his own shoelaces, and it would be a shame if he fell off the clock tower and died.

Tim has his camera with him, but it’s the nice one this time, and he eventually explains that he wants to take photos for his school’s photography contest. Jason suggests that submitting a photo of Robin might give him a better chance at winning, but Tim clarifies that the theme is ‘Haunted’ and shuts the idea down.

Personally he thinks ‘Haunted’ is a shitty theme, but he supposes it’s a fitting one for the abnormally unfortunate city they call home.

There’s a bus stop a block away from the clock tower, so they don’t have to do too much walking when they finally get there. A good thing, too. He’ll deny it except on pain of death, but this part of town gives him the heebie jeebies.

The cobblestone that gives Old Gotham its distinguishing mid-19th century look wobbles beneath them as they make their way down the main street, gas lamps flickering in the late morning light. There’s a low fog over them and the walls of the buildings glisten with dampness, although it hasn’t rained for at least a few days. It’s just like that.

“What’re they working on?” Tim asks as they pass an alley that offers a clear line of sight to the harbor. There’s a construction zone marked off on the way there, blocking off the sidewalk and the half finished building beside it. Wood panels criss cross each other where there should be steel beams. No workers are anywhere to be found.

“I don’t know,” Jason answers honestly. “They’ve been working on it for as long as I can remember.” The last time he was here was three years ago, and it doesn’t look any different. It’s as if Old Gotham is constantly suspended in a state of purgatory.

Tim shivers as a cold gust of wind sweeps past them from the harbor, but makes no additional comment. They walk a little faster.

The clock tower is old. Not old enough to be made out of wood, or for the stone’s harsh edges and spiky points to have smoothed out, but it’s jarringly out of place compared to the relatively modern Catholic Church beside it. The structure doesn’t extend into the sky easily. It makes its way there in steps and levels, each with a platform that seems like it might have been a porch, if there were any visible doors. In the place of doors, tall arched windows allow the slightest glimpse of the pitch black interior, guarded by gargoyles with gaping mouths. Spires extend at every interval, getting thinner and shorter with the exception of the long, thin lightning rod on top.

The clock face itself is written in Roman numerals, large and impossible to miss but, for Jason at least, just as impossible to read. However, he can still tell the hands are at six o’clock. It’s ten.

“We can’t get in,” Jason says.

“Why not?”

“It’s locked.”

“You haven’t even tried.”

Neither of them move.

“Maybe--” Tim begins, but Jason doesn’t get to hear the end of his suggestion, interrupted as he is by distressed shouting splitting the air.

It doesn’t sound like a cry for help, more like a vehement argument, but it’s strange mostly for the fact that Jason was subconsciously convinced no one’s lived here for at least a few thousand years. A quick glance beside him makes him reasonably sure Tim’s thinking the same thing, and when he moves towards the sound, Jason gratefully follows. He isn’t procrastinating going into the clock tower. Really. That would be stupid.

The shouting comes from about a block away, and even without the noise it would draw the eye. Nestled between two apartment complexes is a stout little house surrounded on all sides by a white picket fence and lush green grass. The five foot long walkway branching off from the sidewalk is paved in white pebbles and the sky opens directly above it, the first break in the clouds they’ve seen all morning. The sunlight streaming through is being enjoyed by a particularly fat tabby cat.

They stare, bemused. The house is painted pink with white trim, and a large white sign above the front door names this surreal establishment the Little Gotham Daycare.

As they watch, the front door opens so fast it nearly slams into the wall, and a white-haired older woman in a floral red skirt swishing past her distinguished hips stomps onto the porch and sits with a huff on the top step. Jason takes that as a sign to go. Tim takes that as a sign to speak. “Are you okay?” he calls, and Jason resists the urge to groan aloud.

The woman raises her head, but it takes a moment for her to find the two of them. When she does, she squints, then slumps with what Jason considers to be a very melodramatic sigh. “No, no, no, oh dear, everything is going wrong today! First the chickens eat their own eggs again, because of course Donald didn’t remember to take them out this afternoon, and then he forgets to lock their cage and they disappear without so much as a goodbye!”

“I don’t think chickens are supposed to talk,” whispers Jason loudly to Tim, who ignores him.

“How many chickens?”

“Four,” she says, dejected, and then hides her face in the crook of her arms. The boys stand together awkwardly. Finally, she looks back up at them and pats her thighs with a deep breath. “But nevermind all that, you boys must be hungry. Where are your parents? Oh, it doesn’t matter. No one around here has parents anymore anyway,” she mutters, standing up and beckoning them over.

“Tim…,” Jason pleads as Tim, predictably, takes a step forward. The woman has already disappeared into the odd little house, presumably expecting them to follow. “I don’t trust any old lady who says stuff like that and owns a daycare. There’s something really, really wrong with that.”

“She lost her chickens, Jay,” Tim chides. “She’s lonely.”

“She’s weird,” he grumbles, which does nothing to move Tim from his already decided course. With great reluctance, he follows his best friend into the quaint daycare.

It’s to his relief that the inside does, actually, look like a daycare. They step past scattered toys and half-broken crayons crushed permanently into the carpet, and Jason yelps when he steps on a lego, instantly regretting taking his shoes off. Tim, the jerk, doesn’t even look back at his cry of pain, too intent on cataloguing everything about their surroundings.

As much as it sucks to be ignored, he can admit to being proud of that particular quirk. After all, it’s a habit his best friend only picked up when they became friends. Although, he isn’t entirely certain if Tim does exactly what he tried to teach him and actually spends the time making note of all the exits and escapes, or if he’s just looking for clues like a bona fide Sherlock Holmes.

Jason supposes the keeping-track-of-stuff-that-actually-matters job, as usual, falls to him.

“Oh, the children will just be so devastated when I tell them what happened…,” the lady despairs, entering the kitchen to look into the fridge. She pulls out the basic sandwich fixings and two cold bottles of water.

“Will you have anyone look for them?” Tim asks innocently, but no. It isn’t innocent, because Jason knows exactly what that tone of voice means, and his answer is no.

Unfortunately, Tim rarely takes his opinion into account, so he doesn’t bother voicing his objection. But maybe...

“They’ll tell me just to adopt new ones, but Nessie’s been with me for a while, you know? And Lara, and Tommy -- she’s a lady, my grandson named her -- and Jane.”

“That’s all of them,” Jason points out.

It only makes her sigh sadly at her tomatoes.

“Maybe we could--” Tim starts, but Jason jumps in:

“You should put out a reward for them.”

Tim glares, but the woman suddenly seems contemplative. She looks distantly out the window while spreading mayo on the second bread slice. “Perhaps that could work…”

“Oh, it definitely does. People do it for their cats and dogs and… chickens all the time. Trust me.” When she continues to mull over her decision, he adds: “When we lost our goat, we put out a $200 reward and someone found it the next day.”

Tim gawks. It’s Jason’s turn to ignore him.

There’s a long silence, and Jason holds his breath as the odd woman places their finished sandwiches on separate paper plates for them to take, then proceeds to scrutinize them very carefully. Jason makes sure to wear his biggest and brightest smile. Tim makes sure to step on his toes. He fights back a wince.

Suddenly, she claps her hands together and smiles at them. “Well, that just sounds like a splendid idea!”

Tim pales. “Oh, Mrs… um.”

“Duvall.”

“Mrs. Duvall, you don’t need to--”

“--worry at all,” Jason assures her, bulldozing right over the rest of Tim’s sentence. “Someone will find them safe and sound! In fact--”

“Do you suppose $100 is enough? I don’t have much--”

“Well…,” Jason begins.

“Yeah,” snaps Tim.

“Great! Could you boys help me print out posters?” she asks hopefully.

Tim has the audacity to hold a palm up to Jason’s face before he can answer. “Actually, I was going to say that we can look for your chickens.”

“The reward would help a lot. You know, buses are getting pretty pricey these days…,” interjects Jason.

Mrs. Duvall positively glows at the suggestion. “Oh, of course! I would be so delighted if you could help. Really, truly, you boys are just the sweetest… Let me just make you some proper packed lunches to take with you.”

When she swivels back around to the fridge, Tim hisses: “Seriously?”

“What?” Jason replies, voice high and innocent. “You were gonna do it anyway, who says I can’t get something out of it too?”

“You don’t have to come with me,” Tim mutters petulantly, but it’s half-hearted. They go everywhere together.

They stand awkwardly in the middle of the kitchen while Mrs. Duvall stuffs two paper bags with everything in her cupboards. When she’s done, she holds them both out, but doesn’t let go when they grab at them. “Before I forget, I should let you know that my chickens have trackers. I can’t remember what the neighbor’s girl said about using my phone, though…”

Jason sighs in relief.

To be continued...

#one step closer #jaytim #but they're just friends here #jason and tim #comicroute #writing #fanfic #batfam #wip #humor #funny #fluff #cute #osc

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andersoncharm · 5 years

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Two's a Company, Three's a Crowd/Seblaine+Hunter (Friday, March 8, 2019)

Blaine sat on at his desk in his private dorm, his eyes scanning once more over the admittedly remarkable photos of Hunter Clarington’s Instagram account. The guy had been all over the world and had the hundreds photos for his proof. Traveling. Add that to the list of reasons why, by this point, Blaine was pretty sure that he was a member of the Order. A queasy feeling rolled in his stomach as he clicked on a photo of Hunter in what Blaine knew instantly as the mountains of Kalinga in the Philippines. He felt a little pang in his chest as his eyes swept over his the gorgeous green of the mountains. He’d never been there himself but, the sights made the longing to see his mom again come to the forefront. What was Hunter hunting there? Aswang? Wakwak? With so many rogue witches anymore it was hard to tell.

He’d done minimal snooping on the subject of Hunter being hunter though, his paranoia getting the best of him and not allowing him to ask the needed questions to find out. Witches talked about the Order all the time, it wasn’t like it’d be weird if he asked a few questions. But, Seb’s stricken and hurt face kept flashing in his mind and he couldn’t bring himself to do anything that might cause him to look like that. Couldn’t bring himself to do anything fuck it all up. Which is why he was dreading going to Seb’s in a few minutes. Hunter was spending the weekend with Sebastian and had insisted Blaine come hang out, too. His stomach gave a flip as to what that might mean. He clicked out of Hunter’s page and made sure to thoroughly clear his history and cookies just in case someone decided to snoop on his computer while he was gone. He shouldn’t have been looking anyway but, hey, it was Hunter that had added him to both Instagram and Facebook. It would have been impolite to decline.

He sighed and stood, stretching his arms over his head to attempt to loosen up his nerves. He could feel Freya’s silver moon eyes bearing into his back as they had been since he’d told her what he was doing. He could feel the annoyance radiating from his guide’s tiny body and he honestly didn’t blame her. Hanging out with a hunter that was the love of your life's best friend that was also probably onto the fact that you’re a goddamn witch was a fucking dramady waiting to happen. He slowly turned his eyes meeting her’s for all of a half of a second before she turned her nose up at him and jumped down off the bed, sauntering out of the room. Probably off to tell David’s guide, Khione how stupid her charge was. Blaine honestly didn’t blame her.

Blaine had already taken clothes over to Seb’s yesterday when he spent the night so he didn’t have too much to take with him. He’d gotten two bottles of wine and a six pack of dark beer and put them in a bag to take, even though Seb was insistent that hunter was treating them for being a pain in the ass. Blaine didn’t feel right showing up empty handed. He’d also went shopping this morning and stocked Seb’s refrigerator up so that he could feed them all in the morning. Seb didn’t even question Blaine treating his apartment like their apartment anymore. Which was good because Seb was hopeless when it came to grocery shopping. Besides, he might be terrified of Hunter and what he could do but, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t treat him like the guest he was. They’d have a fun night and in the morning he’d make them both breakfast. Okay, so maybe he was showing off a little because not only did he do all of that he also made Ras a full batch of treats today on top of going to his classes. He didn’t want Ras thinking he’d forgotten him. And he didn’t want Ras forgetting him either. Gods he was acting ridiculous. He kept one of the treats out so that he could give it to him as soon as he walked into the door anyway.

Blaine made sure his bag was secure over his shoulder and popped himself down to the grounds after peeking in on his father telling him he’d be back Sunday. His gave him a level look and shook his head once before waving him on. Sometimes Blaine wondered if he knew and just didn’t care or if he cared and was just waiting for the right time to tear it all away. Either way, he was quiet for now and it left Blaine was conflicting emotions about his dad. What was new there? Once on the ground he headed for the bus stop not far from the school. Normally he’d just pop over to Seb’s in the alley but, he wasn’t taking any chances tonight. He’d even thought about taking the protective charms off of Seb’s apartment this morning but, the thought of something happening to Seb or Ras in the time between him leaving and Hunter arriving left Blaine with a horrible feeling in his gut. So, the charms stayed and so did the crystals around Ras’ neck and in Seb’s pocket. He spotted Freya with Khione as he left. Neither one of them would give him the time of day when he waved to them. Great. Now they both knew he was an idiot.

The thirty minute bus ride that usually felt like it took seven years seemed to take seven seconds and before Blaine knew it his feet had taken up the stairs o Seb’s apartment and left him standing at the door. He took a deep breath before unlocking the door with his key, which was still one of the best gifts he’d ever gotten, and stepped into the living room. Ras was on him instantly and Blaine laughed because that really was one of the best feelings. He gave the pup a pet and offered him the treat he’d left out. Hunter was sprawled out on the couch, looking like he’d stepped out of some business magazine and Seb, well Seb was as beautiful as ever, straddling one of the bistro chairs, tipping it forward slightly as he talked to his friend. He gave his Blaine only smile for a second when he saw him and Blaine's heart flipped at the sight. It was all gonna be okay.

“Sorry I’m a little late! Buses suck, you know? It’s good to see you again, Hunter.” He flashed his friendliest smile and reached out to shake Hunter’s hand before making his way to Seb and leaning down to give him a hello kiss, giving him a smile as he straightened. “I brought more wine and beer though. And treats for Ras.”

#seblaine #seb #hunter #three's a crowd #sebpara

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listing-to-port · 6 years

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Happy birthday to this (part one)

Listing to port is TWO today; so therefore, as is traditional, here is part one of the list of year two, sorted by vague subject and order of appearance (and aided and abetted this year by the R interface to the tumblr api). The list of year one: part one, part two. Part two of the list of year two. Concerning travel and transportation: Eight road trips; Places which inhabit us; Directions; How to pack light; Seven ships which have passed in the night; Six personal travel dilemmas; Ten fun facts about yellow cars; Ten routes through the forest; Six space stations; Buses; Six last relics of doomed explorers; Things seen from the train; Ways to arrive; Seven walks in the mountains; Seven routes to the land of sleep; Eight seaside memories; Eight ways to get where you need to be; Seven planets for sale; Ways home; Five islands with sinister pasts; Ten reasons that you cannot go up to the castle; Eleven cars in front; Six places one may search to uncover buried hoards; Nine passengers; Eight letters from the road. On cities and architecture: Five icy cities; Five fire exits; Passageways and queries; Five hidden worlds just below London; Five perfumes on the birth of cities; Lost cities; Ten rooms in the rubble of Babel; Cities; Six museums; Five utopias; Five bridges; Seven skyscrapers; Seven rooms in an infinite library; Five fully optimised cities; Five Architectures; Forbidden spaces; Seven cities in motion; Five alternate cities; Landmarks of negative space; Five megacities; Unsettling infrastructure; Seven little-known facts about London; Bits of airports. On food: Six feasts for fat cats; Seven happy biscuits; Six surprising origins of pasta shapes; Six waters; Four recipes for difficult times; Six artistic cocktails; Apples; Sandwiches: a guide; Feasts; Ten reasons why this pie is the best pie; Twenty-six courses in alphabetic order; Eight chocolates; Eight uses for leftover pumpkin flesh; Eight knives; Eight edible libraries. On human adventures and misadventures: Seven things found the morning after; Orange things + dictators; Four little-known love affairs; Ten types of lie; Eight declarations of moderate affection; Eight complicated feelings; Seven types of brexit; Seven measures of belonging; Six social faux pas that we have all made; Dresses; Seven composite feelings; Six snap election outcomes; Where are they now?; Hopeful whispers; An all-purpose phone menu; Six official announcements from the palace; An annotated list of fucks I do not give; Twelve ways you won’t believe what she looks like now; Aches; Eight reasons to go to bed right now; Nine nice surprises; Toddler disasters; Four eminent Victorians whose memory has been sadly neglected by time; Eight awards for moderate achievement; Eight hard battles; Nefarious deeds; Five princesses; Ten traits of highly successful people; Ten reasons why men’s clothes should not have pockets; Damages done; Seven uplifting tales; Seven things millennials are killing; Five epic minor ailments; Nine reasons to stay in tonight; Eight things that can happen when you post to the interwebs, anxiety version; Ten types of people; Six ways pet owners are like their pets; Seven boring joys; Seven concerning traits in a suitor; Seven retired sea captains; Ten shoes; Seven scary but also sexy halloween costumes; Ten sinister biases afflicting English universities; Fifteen fireworks; Seven sense-memories from moments of receiving bad news; Seven unboxing videos, rated; Scenes of dizzy mayhem; Twelve people of interest; Six lapses of memory; Eight bodies that are temples; Seven reasons why you absolutely know that person really well; Formal dances; Seven incarnations of Death; Six romances; Eleven small intersections; Seven wrong first impressions; Seven piratical escapades; Ten mysterious smiles; Nine things about you; Six little-known Christmas facts; Ten pieces of good news from 2017; Starts; Nine unmet promises; Seven unrelated notes made at a conference; Seven great first dates; Seven weightless moments. On matters of art and literature: Five inks; ‘Where's Spot?’: a review; Five rogue letters; Six dangerous libraries; Books; Eight of the strongest female characters; Six well-explained jokes; On writing; Things you may catch from books; Five pens; Six rejected protagonists; Six lost songs; Letters x; Twelve twists; Six clarifications regarding nursery rhymes; Five reasons to poet; Six bookmobiles; Browns; Six stories from other angles; Nine wild books; Ten reasons that you might be a children’s TV character; Six monsters attendant upon writers; Marginalia; Illuminations; Seven hidden maps; Ten types of footnote; Seven children's stories carefully sourced from actual children; Six concepts for serials; Nine gothic misfortunes; Ten Altairian Music Hall hits; Eight characters who you may meet on your quest through the flooded land; Writing implements; Eight inventions; Six lost histories of books in the second-hand bookstore; Seven poems; Sources; Nine ghosts of Christmas; Seven excuses for writing too many words; Seven futile artistic plans occasioned by various periods of holiday with vastly insufficient time to contain them; Twelve shades of blue; Eight bells; Scraps of paper. On science, technology and mathematics: Seven things that are running down your smartphone battery; Seven stars; Things there are 500 of; Five new methods of surveillance; Seven rooms in the lab; Six of the best places to find lunar cheese; Six electric dances; Five problems in chthonic physics; Five alarm clocks; On the logistics inherent in serving up a load of old bollocks; Six hashtags that escaped from the internet, and what became of them next; Eight ways to gamify your life; Seven efficiency savings; Six ways to tell if you are in a simulation; Seven enlightenments; Buckets; Suns; Five ones; Ten eclipse tips; Five giant meteors; Six logistical nightmares; Six killer robot logs; Six things that go click click blorp; Engines; Five apps; Deep space junk; Seven stars that have exerted their malign influence upon you; Remainders; Knots; Units of jollity; Ways to maximise clicks.

#lists #writing #lists of lists #birthday #two

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softshouyous-archive · 7 years

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bruh,,,, dude,,,,,bro,,,,,, today was such a hellish day i can’t believe i made it

so like last night my friend and i were deciding what time to hang out (this is where it all p much started by the way) (and by that i mean my Death) and she was like ‘what about until like 2 pm’ and i was like okay,,,, from what time??? and she was like 6,,,,,a,,,,m,,,,

and it was like,,,,, 11,,,,, and i was like,,, okay,,,,, i can sleep at like 12 and i’ll be up by like 5:30,,,, and then she was like,,,, but will your a+s be up kid and i was just like,,,,,,, yes ofc but then in the back (jk the front bc this is an apparent fear) i was like,,,, crap,,,, cRAP,,,, can i wake up by then??? because fun fact about tumblr user softshouyous,,,, i’m a Deep Sleeper so sometimes i miss my alarm, which i feel is more likely to happen with the less sleep i get and i was just like,,, c,,,,rap (god park kyung/woo jiho/ pyo jihoon/ and i guess kang younghyun) but then i was like nO i can dO THIS perseverANCE and never giving uP bELIEVE IT and so i went to sleep at like 12:30 no jk 1:30 but like,,,,

ya girl could NOT go to sleep bc she’s been sleeping super late (but like i’ve been able to sleep around that time lately so idk what that was man i think it was th e Fear) and like???? i also dicked around on my phone so that didn’t help so once it hit three i was like okay i am doomed to suffer and i just stayed up

and then we ended up meeting at seven and like,,,,, i had,,,, two no jk i had one iced americano with white chocolate mocha and one iced coffee (bc they can’t do refills on americanos,,,, it was for the best,,, because my friend was like,,,, you’re gonna die) and they were both ventis,,,,,,,, and like,,, each one was 26 ounces and i did the math and that’s 52 ounces which a little over three water bottles,,,,,, how am i still here,,,,,

and then like we were both super dead my friend bc she had stuff to deal with prior and me bc of all that and like,,,,, we were just dead and out of it and like,,,it was bad and not a fun time,,,, why did we do that,,,,

and then we parted at 11 bc something came up for her and i was cRYING bc i couldn’t go home and sleep yet because i still had to go to school to take care of stuff and like,,,, it was the worst bc it took two hours,,, tWO HOURS,,, i waited for sO LONG,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, (but thankfully the buses came really fast Thank You Bus Gods) like i was ready to cry at school like i had to wait so long,,,,, and i still don’t know if my stuff is set (hope,,,,,hopefully,,,,) buT the positive pART (gotta think about the positive in the bad situations pls it really helps i care about you dear cherished reader) is that i don’t have to go bACK for this stuff anymore like today was my fifth visit to heck (hell, i mean hell)

and yeah,,,, so ya girl got to go home,,,, and then i went to sleep at around four thirty and i woke up at around six, went back to sleep, and woke up at eight, and i was just like,,,, what is this nonsense,,,, like i’d planned to sleep until ten, and then go to sleep a few (years) hours later (by block b),, but,,,, i kept on trying to go to sleep (while,,,, on my phone at times,,,) and it did Not Work Out,,,,

and here i am,,, 1 am,,,, not even tired,,,, somehow,,,,,,

#i never talk like this so it's claer just how out of it i am #i had ~four hours of sleep #and too much coffee #my friend was like yOU could have just gotten a tALL cold brew and you could have been fINE but you got a vENTI aMERICANO #and i was like..... i am Ignorant #and do not Work At Starbucks like you (but i am any person would know that my order is death so)#she cares for me #but yeah...... that was a mess......#i #yeah #text #the bruh and bro are ironic i never say those words LOL

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180abroad · 5 years

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Day 123: Loch Lomond and Stirling Castle

Today we caught our first glimpse of the Scottish Highlands on a day trip out to Loch Lomond and Stirling Castle. It was another Rabbie's tour, like the three tours Jessica and I took in Ireland, and the first of three more in Scotland. Our guide was the best we'd had so far, and we had a fantastic time.

The bus ride into town turned out to be more distressing than we had expected. My dad had bought tickets for us using a smartphone app, but we didn't realize until it was too late that the app was only good for one of Edinburgh's two main bus companies--the one we didn't get onto. The driver didn't take cash, so my dad tried to pay for our tickets using his phone's contactless payment feature instead. The buses there do take contactless, but my dad couldn't get Samsung Pay to load properly on his phone. Eventually, the driver got fed up with waiting and just let us on for free. Halfway through the ride, my dad realized why his phone hadn't worked--he had his data turned off. We offered to pay for our ride when we got dropped off, but the driver told us kindly to just leave.

Dad was embarrassed, but Jessica and I reassured him that this was par for the course--pretty much all of the parents had made one sort of embarrassing money-related faux pas or another early in their visits. Steve got free tea in Tangier after giving all his money to a taxi driver. My mom accidentally got her British and American coins mingled together in her purse, and a cashier at Dover Castle had to help her sort them out.

After a quick check-in at the Rabbie's office, we were on our way. Our guide was a wonderfully entertaining and well-informed woman named Jude. She’s actually Dutch, but she's lived in Scotland for over ten years and her accent would have kept us fooled for the rest of the day if she hadn't told us she wasn't a native.

Our first stop was for the touristy but still impressive Kelpies. In Scottish folklore, kelpies are a sort of water siren that frequently take the form of horses. These kelpies are hundred-foot-tall steel horse heads sticking up out of the ground at a canal crossroads.

The statues were opened fairly recently in 2013 and were made to honor the Scottish steel industry and canal system, which together helped pull the region out of poverty in the late 1800s.

My dad had just gotten a new phone--a Galaxy S9+--so we spent a few minutes comparing our phones' cameras with closeups of the bees and flower-lined canal. I finally understood why the thistle is Scotland's national flower--it's absolutely everywhere here.

That wasn't me. It was like that when we got there.

On our way out to Loch Lomond, we stopped for a preview of Stirling Castle, which we'd be seeing on the way back. Like Edinburgh Castle, it's perched indomitably upon a large plug of volcanic rock.

Loch Lomond sits right on the border between the Highlands and the Lowlands. We learned that, geologically, the Lowlands are part of the same tectonic plate as the rest of Britain, but the Highlands were originally part of the North American plate. The two plates were joined together eons ago, and when they tore apart, a little bit of America got left behind and became the Scottish Highlands. Specifically, the Highlands are most geologically similar to the Appalachian mountain range in the eastern US.

Loch Lomond is the largest Scottish lake by surface area--Loch Ness is the largest by volume--and it's the subject of the Scottish folk song with the lyrics "you'll take the high road and I'll take the low road." One interpretation of the song is that the singer is a fallen soldier speaking to one of his surviving countrymen. The survivor will have to return home by the "high road," whereas the soul of the fallen soldier will be carried home by the "low road" through the Earth. So while the living may grieve for the dead, they can take solace that their spirits are at peace in their homeland.

We got to hike about a mile along the banks of Loch Lomond, taking pictures of the amazing scenery. We all love hiking back home in California, so being able to hike in Scotland with my dad was a great experience, even if it only lasted a half-hour or so.

Like in Wales, we could almost imagine that we were in California. But the weather was much nicer for this time of year--at least by my and Jessica's upside-down tastes. It was cool but not cold, overcast but not dark, and breezy but not blustering.

Our hike ended at the village of Balmaha, where we got some tasty fish and chips for lunch. Jessica and my dad got proper drinks, but I opted for a Coke--I needed all the caffeine I could get.

After lunch, we returned to Stirling for a tour inside the castle. Edinburgh Castle may have been the most politically important castle in Scotland, but Stirling was always the most strategically important. Not only is it extremely defensible as a fortress, it sits right on a natural choke point between northern and southern Scotland that almost all land traffic had to pass through. Controlling Stirling wasn't always enough to control the rest of Scotland, but no one could control Scotland without it. When Edinburgh was besieged or occupied by English forces, the Scottish king or queen would rule from here.

We had a fun but somewhat rushed visit inside the castle. If you're into castles and have the time, I would recommend setting aside a whole day for Stirling. We didn't get to see everything we wanted in the castle, and we didn't set foot in the town itself.

The bright yellow building in the middle of the complex is the Great Hall, which was built by James V, father of Mary Queen of Scots. I thought it looked distinctly Spanish, or even Moroccan, but that wasn’t the intention. It’s coated in a special substance called Royal Gold harling. Harling is a sort of medieval sealant that was applied to soft limestone buildings in Scotland to protect them from the elements. Plain harling is gray, which is part of why so many old Scottish buildings are gray despite being built out of yellow or pink limestone. (The other reason is grime from the Industrial Revolution.)

It was the largest medieval great hall ever built in Scotland, and to make his new hall stand out even further as the throne room of a king, James had it coated with golden harling–which was made by adding rust to the usual mixture. Later, James's grandson James (VI of Scotland and I of England, also of King James Bible fame) was baptized in this great hall.

Nearby is the Royal Chapel, which James had built for the baptism of his oldest son Henry. It was one of the first Protestant churches built anywhere in Scotland.

The interior of the royal palace was also decked out in 16th-century style, and costumed guides answered questions in the character of people who would have worked in the castle at that time.

There were a lot of unicorns in the palace. King James III was obsessed with unicorns. He put them on his coins, his coat of arms, and the tapestries that lined his palace. He even hired a group of hunters to go out and try to find a unicorn for him every day. When someone gave him the severed horn of a narwhal, claiming it was a unicorn horn, he was overjoyed and made it the centerpiece of his collection.

When Scotland and England joined together under James VI and I, the symbol of their union was a unicorn and a lion supporting the royal coat of arms together.

In Celtic mythology, unicorns symbolize honor, purity, loyalty, sacrifice, and rebirth. Because of these associations, early Scottish Christians adopted the unicorn as a symbol of Christ.

We also got to see someone playing the lute, which I don't think I'd ever seen in person before.

Outside the palace, we were able to look down on the fields where numerous sieges and two decisive battles took place.

Walking around the castle walls, we got to see even more spectacular vistas. I spotted a small hole through which the young queen Mary would watch the soldiers drilling below.

We had just enough time to see one more of the castle's exhibits, so we headed over to the kitchens, which were filled with statues seemingly designed to be as creepy as possible.

The kitchens also held a book of medieval recopies, including one for a cheese tart and another for dressed peacock.

On our tours in Ireland, our guides had been fairly quiet for most of the driving. They said that they weren't supposed to talk much in the car for safety reasons. But our guides in Scotland seemed to have no such restrictions.

As we drove between the sights, our guide Jude told us the story of Mary, Queen of the Scots–her favorite figure in medieval Scottish history. Apparently, other tour guides avoid talking about Mary because they think her story is boring. But Jude definitively proved that it's all in how you tell the tale. As she put it, history provides the facts, but the storyteller provides the genre.

Jude’s genre for Mary’s story was: soap opera.

Over three “episodes”--complete with cliffhangers and recaps--Jude told us how Mary was crowned Queen of Scotland at just six days old, then whisked away for safekeeping. King Henry VIII of England wanted to marry the infant Mary to his young son Edward, uniting both countries and effectively making Henry king of both. Henry sent his army to kidnap Mary in a war that has been poetically named the “Rough Wooing.”

Ironically, the two countries would be joined quite peacefully under a Scottish king just 60 years later

Mary was eventually shipped off to France for safekeeping. There, she grew up, fell in love, and married the French crown prince. The king of France died unexpectedly, making Mary the Queen of France and Scotland. But then her husband also died after a surgeon drilled a hole in his head trying to cure an ear infection.

Mary returned to Scotland, claimed her throne, and ruled for a short while. She kept as advisers a group of four handmaidens named Mary, Mary, Mary, and Mary. She married a man named Henry, had a son named James, had an affair with a man named James, then married James after Henry was murdered, quite possibly by James.

There are a lot of Marys and Jameses in this story.

The Scottish nobles, tired of all this drama, so they took little James away from Mary, declared him King James VI, and imprisoned her in a tiny castle on a tiny island in a tiny lake.

But that wasn’t the end for Mary. She escaped and fled south to England, where her cousin Queen Elizabeth I promised to keep her safe. But Mary was deceived. As soon as she showed up, she was imprisoned to be used as a political bargaining chip for the next 19 years before finally being executed for treason. She never even got to look Elizabeth in the face once.

Mary did get a bit of Karmic revenge in the end. When James VI succeeded Elizabeth as James I of England, he got to commission the tombs for both Elizabeth and Mary. And he made Mary's just a little bit bigger.

Jude also told us an intriguing story about the Stone of Scone, which we’d seen the day before with the Scottish crown jewels at Edinburgh Castle.

Until 1296, the Stone was kept at the monastery of Scone, where the kings of Scotland would stand on it during their coronations. According to legend, the stone was brought to Scotland by Irish missionaries and may have originally come from the Holy Land.

In 1296, the Stone was stolen by Edward I of England and brought back to London, where it would stay for the next 700 years. It was placed into the English coronation chair, and almost every English monarch was crowned while sitting on the Scottish coronation stone. It wasn’t until 1996 that the Stone was allowed to return to Edinburgh--until it’s needed to crown the next English king.

But some people think that the monks of Scone pulled one over on the English. The story goes that the English soldiers surrounded the monastery of Scone and ordered the monks to surrender the Stone. The monks gave them a stone, which was and largely still is accepted as genuine. If the skeptics are to be believed, however, the monks hid the true stone and gave the English army a fake.

Their reasoning? The alleged Stone of Scone currently on display doesn’t match the descriptions in the old legends, and it didn’t come from the Holy Land or even Ireland. In fact, it came from no further than a quarry just outside the monastery itself, where the stone used to make most of the monastery’s fixtures was mined. Fixtures like toilet lids, which typically consisted of a large flat slab with two handles for moving. Much like the alleged Stone of Scone currently on display. Hmm...

Before heading into Edinburgh, we stopped at a little village called South Queensferry. It sits on the Firth of Forth, directly opposite from the cleverly named North Queensferry. As you might imagine, they were named for a ferry service that goes between them, which was established by a queen. Queen Margaret, to be precise. (The same one whom the old chapel in Edinburgh Castle is named for.)

The ferry service operated from the 11th century up into the 1960s. Appropriately, the last person to ride the ferry was Queen Elizabeth II.

The big red bridge is the Forth Bridge, one of three that cross the Firth of Forth to Fife.

Back at Rabbie’s HQ in Edinburgh's New Town, we got a great view up at the Old Town on our walk back to the bus stop. This time we took the right one.

Next Post: Glasgow

Last Post: Edinburgh, Part 1 (Castles, Whisky, and Football)

#180abroad #edinburgh #scotland #loch lomond #stirling #castle #travel #kelpies

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buckner-in-australia · 7 years

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Day 20: June 15, 2017

Here we go with another bittersweet day. Today we are leaving the rainforest :( Even though everything was super damp, the rainforest definitely grew on me and almost made me want to stay there forever.

Like every morning every two days, we packed up all our belongings and boarded the buses to our next destination. I still can’t get over how much sugar cane there was. Acres upon acres spanning down the twists and turns of the highway. Since Paul was on our bus, we dropped him off in his neighborhood. Though we didn’t get much time with him, we really enjoyed his company. He also spread some words of wisdom to our group:

“You all are the single handedly most influential generation that has ever existed. Your impact as college educated Americans will affect the whole world in ways we haven't seen or witnessed before. You can pull the world out of the mess we're in but it is up to each and every one of you” -Paul

To say the least, his words were very enriching.

On our drive the only placed we stopped was at Rex Lookout. Once again, it was an absolute beautiful view and we water was an mesmerizing sea-foam green. I could stare at that water for days.

Sooner or later we made it to Cairns and our accommodation, the Cairns Queenslander. Now this location wasn’t the Four Seasons but it was better than the last. I was just grateful for the absence of humidity, a hot shower, and a normal toilet.

During the first days of our stay in Melbourne, Ash and I scheduled to do the Minjin Swing and guess what today’s the day and it’s scheduled for 3:00! We ended up getting settled into our room at about 12:30 and then we were starving. After trying to find a place to eat we decided to take a taxi closer to the facility and eat on that side. I ended up having calamari at this sit-down resaurant & it was delicious and was only $9! You can’t beat that! We were told that we would be able to get a taxi to the facility from the restaurant but little did we know what was in store.

Since our driver told us that the shifts changed everyday at 3, we though that calling our taxi at 1: would give us plenty of time. Boy were we wrong! We requested a taxi 5 separate times! It got so bad and we were so anxious that we even decided to separate. There was a Woolworths around the corner so Cody decided to go up there to wait for taxi and if he got one he would bring it back and if we got one we would go get him. After running back and forth, calling more taxis and the company (need I remind you none of us have a phone plan or service) we finally snagged a taxi 50 minutes later lol. We were all out of breath.

As we neared the facility, we were super pumped! When we got dropped off, low and behold, there was another steep hill in order for us to get up there. Best believe we got up there. As we entered we were greeted by staff who called us out by name to sign in. This time I made sure to read the terms and conditions because there was no way I would be hanging upside down anymore! After this process was completed, we were weighed to make sure that we didn’t go over the maximum weight. If we were 1 kilo heavier, the three of us wouldn’t have been able to swing together lol.

After Tristen went it was time for our turn. We wake dup another hill to receive our harnesses, helmet, and GoPro. All I could think was that this was going to be like the Superman at Six Flags. Boy was there a difference! I tried to convince myself that it wasn’t that high but you better believe it was! And what made it worse, as we were hoisted up we saw a huge python coiled up!! And what also made it worse, we thought that we would be the height of the trees…No. We were OVER the trees! We were so high that we could see over the canopy to the ocean. Great view but dang we were high!

As we sat the the very top we had to wait for a green light to flash then it would be safe to pull the cord to drop us. I literally had to have a little talk with everyone to pull my thoughts together. We then decided that it would be pulled on 3. Oh my Lawd! When we dropped it was like my soul left my body and then caught up when we swung over the building! It was insane! They had a deal that if you booked the swing it would only be 35 to go again. Ash and I loved it so much that we did it once more and the adrenaline rush was still A1.

After our wonderful time we headed back to the Queenslander and got ready to go to dinner. Once we finished our food we decided to just walk around to see what the city of Cairns offered. I really wish that we would’ve had more time there because the area was very cute and stylish with so many shops and restaurants. While walking around Ash got snagged into a travel shop that I thought was sketchy from the very beginning. Before we knew it we were heading with a group of 40 people from this travel place to go to a bar named Gilligans for free pizza, drinks, and VIP access. We ended up meeting some cool girls from from England and Wales who decided to travel for a whole year. One of them has been in Australia since March. We also ran into the English girl we adopted for ziplining. I then made friends with 2 black girls from Germany and we met 2 girls from Ohio (Ally and Victoria) that were just finishing up their semester here. Little did we know that tonight was ladies night so there was free champagne and a dancing contest. I did not participate but I sure did have fun! The music was good, the friends we made, and the experience was priceless. Who would’ve thought that strolling into a travel shop would’ve lead to such a great night?

This night, again, was amazing and tomorrow morning we head for Sydney! I can’t wait to see what this city has to offer!

Things I've learned - Sticking your arms out of the window while driving is illegal and you can be fined - I really love calamari - The McDonald's empire is truly an empire. How did they manage to find little places like Cairns? - Cairns has jellyfish not crocodiles - To be protected from the jellyfish, stinger nets are put up. - “Daintree? That's my country. Right over dere (over the mountain). Nice little town whites and blacks living together.” -man that approached Ashley and I while waiting for our taxi. He was more confused about a black and a white person being together than the fact we stuck out like sore thumbs waiting for a taxi - On Thursday's there is late night shopping where the shops are open until 9 pm - Grocery stores close extremely early, at about 5:30 pm - Tire = Tyre - Goonbag = box wine (how they came up with this name perplexes me greatly) - We dropped/swang from 155 ft in the air

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sarahinzhuhai-blog · 7 years

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Week 1

Yo, it's ya girl Srah, back at it with another blog post...I'm going to try to do these every Sunday (no promises). So much happened this week that I could write a novel, but I'll try to give a good summary of what has happened so far during my time here. // 周一 (Monday)：The week started off auspiciously when I missed the bus with my mom because the driver decided not to stop at my stop that morning. In a frenzy, we took the next bus that came, got off at a seemingly random station (aka at that point o was completely unaware of how the city worked), then waited as a corner as she summon the mysterious car that took us to school. I only arrived about 10 minutes late, but everything was OK since it was the first day. I went into the room that I was told to go into, and found out that I got placed into the highest class. Yay! Our teacher, 车老师 (Che Laoshi), is the b e s t and I was very excited. At that point, we had six people in our class: me, XY, Maya, Shayley, Isabel and Alec. Our class also has four TAs, two of them come every day. The first day, like every other day, classes went like this: three hours of language instruction with 10 minute breaks, A half hour of time with language partner to review and practice, a two hour lunch break, another hour of instruction, and another half hour with the language partners. To my delight, class was taught ~90% in Chinese, which is very different from my class at home but is very good for learning. The first day was a review of Pinyin and tones, which we all already knew. That being said, I have a very hard time differentiating between second and third tone when I listen, and my pronunciation is a disaster, so the chance to practice was welcome. My language partner (语伴), Zhang Yini, is very nice and very patient with me. Over the week, I found out that we have a lot in common (in addition to having the same last name). The first main bonding point was that we both watch the same Chinese variety show (Go Fighting)--we found this out when I forgot the name of the show and did the main gesture/punch line from it and she instantly knew what I was talking about. In addition to being all around awesome, she is also very patient with me--she knows I want to practice pronunciation and tones, so she is always willing to help me and repeat things/tell me the tone numbers to help me out!!! After class got out, ZYN had to take another final (her second of the day), so somehow I ended up hanging with Matthew and several 语伴s including: Caroline, Outing, Haoxi (aka BBC, a nickname earned because he speaks very very good English but with a British accent), Lili, Chris, Caroline's friend Erin, and possibly others. We took the ecart to a place called mango paradise, where I couldn't read the menu but it didn't matter because everything had names like "Snow White" but with no further explanation of what eating Snow White would entail. So we got Snow White and Mixed Fruit, and ended up with a fruity shaved ice and a fruit in cream deal. Both were pretty good, but I'm still not sure what they were. I had a great time and found out BBC likes Lana Del Rey as much as, if not more than, I do. After, Outing, Caroline and Erin took us home on the bus (which was incredibly kind of them, especially since Outing had an Ancient Chinese final the next day that he needed to study for), and then I went home. I was absolutely exhausted. After dinner, I fell asleep on the bed and could barely wake myself up to shower and brush my teeth. // 周二 (Tuesday): After Mondays bus debacle, my mom drove me to school on Tuesday. In class, we started learning new characters and really getting into the swing of things. We have a dictation every day--the teacher says something and we write it. Tuesday mornings was writing the pinyin for what the teacher said, and since I'm terrible at tones, it didn't go so well. Every other dictation of the week was much better because it was writing characters. Anyways, many of the new words on Tuesday were words I had learned already, and the others we wrote so many times while talking in class that I had memorized them by the time the day was over. After lunch with ZYN and maybe some others (I can't remember, oops), we had an hour of class before it was time to talk with our 语伴. We played a legendary game called 谁是卧底(who's the spy). I would describe it as a mix of Taboo, Mafia and Spyfall, and it's a riot when you're not using your native language. We played this game every day from Tuesday on. My favorite game was the one that lasted the entire hour in which I played the whole game thinking I was the spy only to find out that I was not and had lost. Oops. After school, me, ZYN, Maggie, Reyna, Matthew and another 语伴 went to a "fried yogurt shop" (I'm not sure that's the name). Anyways, they were out of what we meant to get so instead I ordered rose froyo that came in chunks. The most notable part of that experience was that the store, named Ecup, was boob themed. Not subtly so, we're talking nipple pillows and two boos in the logo. One of the signs says you're not supposed to say you've been to ecup, so this blog can be our secret I guess. Then we rode the bus home, I studied a bit for the next days dictation. // A few general things about the week: I still can't really understand my dad but writing this on Sunday night, I have been able to understand a little bit which I consider to be a major accomplishment. Another thing: tensions have been running very high in my family this week because my little sister has to take finals tomorrow and Tuesday. I won't publish conversations or specific events because they have a right to privacy, but this has been different from my American home. For starters, in America, 9/10 year olds don't have to take finals, but this has also been my first time to first hand experience the "tiger mom" (I'm not sure if that's a proper term to use, please let me know if it isn't) approach to parenting, and it's been a bit of a shock. But since my sister has been so busy, I've been staying out of the house a lot after school. Another thing: except for before lunch sometimes because I have a hard time eating breakfast, I'm almost never hungry here...my mom always ensures I am v e r y well fed. Okay, back to the blog. // 周三 (Wednesday): As predicted, this dictation (and every other one this week) went much better than Tuesday: 100%! Yay! More practice with my 语伴 and another harrowing round of Who's the Spy made for a fun day of class. Wednesday's class centered more around grammar from the dialogue and some cultural/historical words, and the language learning accompanied learning about cultural customs, which I liked. For lunch, me, XY, Shayley and our 语伴s took a pass on Canteen 1 and decided to go to a 饺子 (dumplings) store on campus, per alumni recommendation. The store didn't look like much, but the food was delicious. A lot of places are like that here. I watched them make some of the dumplings and then I ate a ridiculous amount. After lunch, we hit up the supermarket and ZYN taught me about different snacks. After normal classes let out, we had a culture class (we will have one every Wednesday). Todays was 书法 (calligraphy) and 国画 (traditional Chinese painting). Because of time constraints, everything felt a bit rushed and I can't say my skills improved, but I still enjoyed both classes. They both had a competition element that I didn't really like (and I voiced that concern later when asked about it), but all in all, still had a good time. Both clases were taught by TAs, 语伴s and maybe others. I don't remember who was the primary teacher for calligraphy, but Haoxi/BBC/Ou Laoshi taught the painting class. Since class let out late and I helped clean afterwards, I decided not to go out after school and instead went home. When I got home, I thought I forgot my keys so I waited outside for my mom to come home for the better part of an hour and got destroyed by mosquitos. I also saw two little dogs without owners, and then had a successful conversation with a local with little to no difficulty when I was expressing concern about the dogs (at the time, I had only seen one, but he told me that the owner lived in a nearby building and the dog always went around by itself... :/ ). After I got inside, I realized I had in fact NOT forgotten my keys. I decided not to tell my host parents that. // 周四 (Thursday): More classes and another successful dictation. Lunch on the second floor (oh boy) of Canteen 1 with BBC and David, which was very entertaining. After food, ZYN took me to the library, which was very nice on the inside. I found some pretty interesting things, including a Hilary Duff All Access book, several books about Extraterrestrial Life, and then on a more serious note, several books on queer theory and sexuality, which I wasn't expecting to find, even if it is a university library. After classes were over, Richa, XY and I went to YoungMix (扬名), a gigantic multistory mall. Highlights from the trip included: 1) riding a completely empty bus from school to the transfer station. I mean empty; we were the only three. Everything you've heard about Chinese buses is true during rush hour on some lines(and I've had the pleasure of experiencing that on Monday morning), so this was very exciting. 2) At the mall, they were having the fashion show of traditional clothing. It was really cool. I took some pictures and then some of the ladies who ran it started talking to me. I mostly used my smile-and-nod-and-pretend-you-understand-strategy, but I eventually realized they they were trying to convince us to spend 1000-2000RMB to get pictures done with the clothes at their company and we were out of there. 3) I had a very very good waffle. 4) there was a bunny mall (recommended to me by ZYN) inside the mall and the cages were not very clean but the bunnies were very cute.5) A family was holding a vigil in the middle of the sidewalk and a crowd had sort of gathered around. They were clearly very distraught and I didn't know what to do as I passed by. 6) I successfully navigated home from an unknown place on an unfamiliar bus line. // 周五(Friday): My mom got rear ended (driving here is insane--people merge with like 2 inches to spare, so I'm not surprised that this happened) so I was ready to take the bus, but then some guy came and drove me to school. It was a very quiet ride because I didn't know what to say and when we did talk I mostly couldn't understand him. Also, my dad told me to sit in the backseat but the back seats here often don't have seatbelts, so that was stressful. I arrived at school in one piece. More classes and another successful dictation. During third period, 车老师 had to go to a meeting so the TAs ran class. They gave us a talk (mostly in English) about Huitong Village (the place we would be visiting Saturday) and interesting places in Zhuhai. Some of my friends were talking a lot and the room is very echoey, plus I was annoyed because we were speaking a lot of English (I feel like I've been speaking far too much English this week), because I couldn't hear because it was loud and because I was exhausted, so I was sort of in an awful mood. Then we practiced calligraphy on the water sheets, and after talking with ZYN I was in a much better mood. Lunch was at canteen 1 (second floor again), with a bunch of people but again at the same table as BBC and David. It was a shortened lunch (the second of the week, the first was on Tuesday to have a debriefing session) in order to have a meeting about the next day's cultural excursion and to receive our stipend. Most of my friends had long ago spent the stipend from the week before. I still had more than half of it left... The second half of classes was fun (oh yeah, Josh and Richa are in class 3 now-yay!), and then we were free for the evening. Me, Garrett, Sydney, XY, Maya, Anthony, Isabel, Katie, Alec, and Reyna went to find a place called Beeplus, which we had learned about during third period. It's a place made entirely of boxcars/storage containers. We had heard it had a lot of fun places inside, ranging from office spaces to restaurants, so we went to check it out. It was hard to find and not what we were expecting, but it was pretty cool. After awkwardly walking in and out of the restaurant, we meandered into an office space to ask about the building and ended up getting a tour guided by a guy named David (who spoke English). He showed us the office spaces, let us onto the roof garden/bar to check it out (even though it was closed to the public at the moment), and told us about the building. Apparently it was constructed in only 2 days and is a collaborative office space for entrepreneurs and startups to operate. For about 100-150 American dollars a month, they get 24 hour office access, including printing, electricity, AC, water, etc. David was very helpful to our group and complimented my Chinese. While the building wasn't what we were expecting, I thought it was cool to get a look into some of the new things that are happening in China's business world. Also there was a slide. After, we explored Tangjiawan (a mini city in the north of Zhuhai). Finds include: a supermarket that looked very small on the outside but ended up being three stories tall, and an alley with lots of little stores that looked to be in bad shape but were okay in the inside. We found a store that taught little kids piano and a pizza shop that some of us ended up eating dinner at. I went home for dinner instead. I wasn't expecting to do anything after, since my sister was still studying, but after dinner my mom took me to a tea house that her friend owned. We had tea with the friends whole family (husband, toddler daughter and elementary school son, and father), and it was very, very good. On the walk back, the streets were very busy with people out to eat. This city feels a lot more alive than my city back in America--there are way more people out and about, which is cool. // 周六 (Saturday): Saturday was wild. First, I arrived at the bus stop with 30 seconds before my bus arrived. Before I realized Alec was on the bus too and went to sit with him, I had an interesting "exchange." I was sitting in the front of the bus facing back, and noticed a guy my age in the back kept looking at me. So I decided to look at him too. Then I smiled and he got very flustered. Alec does not think this actually happened. Anyways, after we got to the university, we met up at the hotel (which I still associate with all the negative feelings I've ever had on this trip...oops) and then got on the bus to Huitong village. I'm very confused about the history of the place (since it was given to us during that third period class on Friday), but I think a rich guy (Mo [Mu?] Huitong, except I don't think Huitong was his real name) helped his friends (?) build this village...? Anyways, it's still standing and there are a lot of very old buildings, including two watchtowers, ancestral halls (one of which we got to see), and this place that was called the Fairy Hall (or maybe Fairy Building, which we didn't get to see) that had a love story associated with it. The ancestral hall was beautiful (and had a lot of interesting architecture that carries more meaning than met the eye), and we visited a cute coffee shop that had cats in it, but the most meaningful experience of the day was when an 80+ year old woman invited a small group of us who were walking around the village to come into her house (or into the courtyard of her house) to sit with her. She was very concerned about us being comfortable and talked to us for a while (luckily, one of the language partners was there and could understand her better than I could). She talked about how her family had lived in the village (and on that very house) for four generations and how she had had multiple strokes and been robbed multiple times. At one point, a group of people came by and stared at us because we were a group of foreigners and asked us (in Chinese?) if we needed a translator...odd. Anyways, Outing found us and then we left and he stayed back to briefly speak with her since they both speak Cantonese. As we walked out, someone assumed i wouldn't be able to speak Chinese and commented about how my hair was ugly, if I heard correctly (I was wearing braided pigtails, which is not common here). Like with all incidents where someone stares/comments, I ignored them and moved on. Then we walked around, saw a snake, XY and Anthony dared each other to eat loganberries off a tree, and then rested for a bit. We found these pretty white and yellow flowers (they 语伴s were calling them eggflowers in Chinese but I have no idea what the English name is), and first Outing and Anthony were ~~stylin~~ with them but then Outing let me have his. On the walk back to the meeting spot, we stopped at a small shop. I had some sort of snack with red bean in the inside, and then we headed back to the university. I went to lunch with several 语伴s/TAs (including BBC, Emily, Lili, and someone whose name I am forgetting right now), Tully, Sydney, Lexi and I. The lunch was at a fancy restaurant and very good, and my hair was again the subject of many patrons' attention. At lunch, BBC commented that I look like Emma Watson (and others agreed), which was very flattering. After, Lexi and I stayed back with the 语伴s/TAs and hung out on campus. We goofed around on a playground and generally had a good time. We also talked to this American guy who has been living in Zhuhai for 10 years and teaching at the University. He gave us some language learning tips. After I got home, my mom taught me how to roll out the wrappers and make dumplings . I had dinner (part of which was spent watching the big show on TV for the 20th anniversary of HK rejoining China) and then I was off to calligraphy class again. My sister didn't come this time, so in the little kid section it was just me and the girl from last week who couldn't understand me and stared the whole time. I spent the whole class trying to perfect the horizontal stroke, and the teacher and little girl were both very patient with me and my lack of calligraphy and Chinese skills. // 周日 (Sunday): Today I got to sleep in until 9, when my sister came in to practice piano before her lesson. During her lesson, I got to practice for the first time in several days (she's been studying so I can't disturb her with piano). Not knowing how to start a conversation with my host dad, I wrote some characters to review from this week, listened to recordings of the song I was practicing and fell asleep again. After I woke up, still not knowing what to talk about, I tried to read Harry Potter in Chinese until my sister came home and we ate lunch. After lunch, I took the bus to the university to meet up with some of the kids from Class 3 and some of our 语伴s and TAs for KTV (although first, ZYN and I played a game of pool). KTV is like karaoke except better: you get a private room and pick whatever songs you want with your friends. We did KTV for about 4 hours (yes, 4), and it cost less than 2 American dollars per person. We sang e v e r y t h i n g. A bunch of American songs, some Chinese songs I knew and some I didn't, some kpop (on Friday during lunch, I showed ZYN BTS and so today she showed me that I could sing their songs at KTV. I picked a few of my favorites but then some of the 语伴s queued up their own kpop favorites...BIGBANG was their popular choice and they were very impressed when I could sing most of Eyes Nose Lips), some Spanish songs and even some Japanese and French ones. The last song we JAMMED to was BIGBANGs Fantastic Baby, which was iconic to say the least. After KTV, I had a late dinner, found out what my dads job is from my sister and had a very brief conversation with him about it (admittedly, the questions I asked were kind of dumb and he thought they were funny), and then just rested. I'm not sure I'll have a voice tomorrow after today's KTV adventure. Tomorrow and the next day, my little sister will take her final exams! Hopefully she will do well and I can do more fun things with my host family in the weeks to come. // Some parting notes: 1) I am squatty potties' number one supporter now. They are great and anyone who disagrees can square up. 2) Alec was commenting about how, even though we are surrounded by people here, it feels lonely. I have to agree--I don't know what it is but there's definitely a sense of isolation that I get here and I'm not sure it's all just because I'm a foreigner. 3) It rained a lot today for the first time. Spicy stuff 4) Funny story: here when something is good/awesome you can just say "Liu" (six) a bunch of times so imagine my confusion when someone commented 666 on my post . 5) Another cultural difference that made things weird is when I didn't know that they wait to open gifts until after the giver has left. Oh well. 6) one of the days this week, I had a really fun time where my whole family watched TV together and my sister and I goofed around. It was a very good time and one of the few times we have a interacted together. My sister and I both did this balance exercise and she also gave me a circus hat and stuffed animal snake to try on, which I donned dramatically while saying "model" 7) Yesterday night I taught my little sister some ballet. 8) I'm sure I forgot a lot of stuff but it's very late and I have to wake up early to catch the bus tomorrow, so this is all for now. ✌️️

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