#it gave me the opportunity to sharpen up the close-ups more properly at least. Now they look nice and crispy! :D

[seatoss]

More silly sausages! 

This drawing absolutely refused to be leashed btw. I meant to keep it close to the original concept’s style, but without a time-limit or some other form of restraint I think I end up with too much leeway sometimes. Not that I’m displeased! I quite enjoyed getting to bother my dog for this one.

Now that it’s summer break I’m hoping I’ll be able to create art more frequently.

#linked universe #lu four #lu #four swords adventures #art process #dachshund #my art #fan art #That first process image is really rough on the eyes #but I think it's kind of cool to share the not-so-perfect side of a process #also #I found out how to keep my drawings from disappearing #had to repost to solve the issue #so yea if this looks familiar that's why. blame tumblr #it gave me the opportunity to sharpen up the close-ups more properly at least. Now they look nice and crispy! :D

[bestworstcase]

farran rereads lost lagoon: chapters 3-4

- a shot-put ball, according to my cursory research, weighs in the neighborhood of 6-16 pounds. leila howland expects me to believe that princess “hoisted an adult woman 70 ft into the air on the daily with nothing but a pulley and raw upper body strength” rapunzel has a hard time picking up a shot.

anyways

- rapunzel thinks about how she used to talk to herself in her tower when she was isolated (and lonely) but stopped once she came to corona, and this girl looked like she was talking to herself, and it gave rapunzel this weird sense of familiarity! now what in the world could that mean? its so subtle i can’t quite put my finger on it.

again, romance novel.

less sardonically - i will say that tts cass has never struck me as an especially lonely person. yes, rapunzel is quite possibly her first ever close friend, but cass also appears to be on pleasant terms with her coworkers and has at least one or two friendships or mentor-type relationships among the guards (stan and pete). animals in tts are anthropomorphized enough to qualify as humans, and cassandra is unequivocally friends with owl and fidella. she is friendly if not friends with at least one coronan citizen (monty). she’s utterly unfazed by crowley’s crabbiness. she’s able to get along with the pub thugs. in vardaros she befriends vex with ease and makes herself right at home among the citizenry at large. there is zero friction between her and lance - at most she rolls her eyes when he’s being ridiculous. and out of the main cast, cassandra is the one who seems closest to varian in s1 - like, she has actual bonding moments with him. 

THE POINT BEING, cassandra may not have a lot of close friends, but she is nevertheless personable and demonstrates the ability to adapt herself to suit a variety of social environments. maybe i’m projecting here - i have very few close offline friends because my preference for in-person socialization is for it to be very casual - but taken together this doesn’t scream ‘lonely person’ to me. it instead says ‘person who finds social fulfillment in a wide net of friendly acquaintanceships’ and possibly also ‘person who finds close, emotionally intimate relationships worthwhile but very demanding to maintain, and so seldom or never seeks them out.’

this, absolutely, a very subjective reading of her character - it is just as plausible for cass to be someone who is socially competent but feels inwardly unfulfilled until rapunzel comes along. but even in that reading, this implication that cassandra is as deeply lonely, as thoroughly isolated in corona as rapunzel was in her tower is baldly absurd.

- i think i will have more thoughts about how arianna is characterized and the relationship she and rapunzel have with each other later in the story. for now it feels rather mechanical, and like arianna exists in the story to facilitate cassunzel happening.

- cassandra comes across to me like she has an anxiety disorder written by someone who doesn’t quite know how to convey how that feels? she catastrophizes: what if rapunzel thinks cass attacked her? will she get in trouble? but then she stops to make snide comments about rapunzel’s security detail ‘[falling] down on the job’ and concludes with an impressive amount of certainty that rapunzel isn’t going to make a big deal of it, after all. that… isn’t how anxiety works?

then, immediately, she finds a note from her father scolding her for slacking off—making it clear that she is indeed in trouble, like she feared—and her response is to scoff and throw it away. zero concern about being in trouble. zero worry about the consequences she might face for refusing the pointed “offer” of being rapunzel’s lady-in-waiting. like… this isn’t anxiety. i’m positive it’s meant to convey anxiety, but it comes across as cassandra just being… melodramatic and rude and grumpy. like a teenager. it’s unpleasant. and it bears very little resemblance to tts cass, who expresses a clear and consistent anxiety regarding the security of her job and the looming threat of a convent.

- secondly: “Friedborg reported that you missed your afternoon duties AGAIN. Please be advised that this is unacceptable. The queen is looking for a lady-in-waiting to serve Princess Rapunzel. It would be a great opportunity for you, and you must show the queen how prepared you are to train her in the ways of the court.” i am 100% convinced that howland thought cass was rapunzel’s age or younger. if friedborg is effectively cassandra’s direct supervisor, and she is reporting absences to cassandra’s father instead of addressing this with cassandra directly, the only explanation that makes sense is that cassandra is not of legal age.

- “Ladies don’t wield weapons, lead military strategy meetings, or race on horseback. Ladies do needlework, flower arranging, and hairstyling.”

sighs.

i am not going to argue that corona, in any incarnation, isn’t culturally sexist. it is. there are no women in the guard, no women in trades, no female business owners in the vein of monty or xavier or feldspar. besides rapunzel and arianna - who as the monarch’s spouse has very little in the way of actual political power - there are no women in the upper echelons of the government. besides cassandra, the only gnc women around are criminals. cass is denied even a chance to join the guard for no evident reason, even though her father allows eugene - a man he openly despises - to take the tests and then begrudgingly hires him when he passes. no one sees an issue with this, even though cassandra is demonstrably overqualified.

however.

howland makes this cultural sexism explicit text, and she does so in such a way that it implies something pretty horrifying about the already pretty horrifying corona-saporia unification backstory.

i am talking, of course, about general shampanier. you know, the female saporian general whom herz der sonne married when the two kingdoms were unified. the female saporian general who personally dueled der sonne for hours, according to under raps. the female saporian general who, forget military strategy meetings, led an entire goddamn army. i will accept the possibility that shampanier did not ride horses, because rapunzel’s return suggests that saporians have some sort of cultural objection to that. but this book predates rapunzel’s return by a large margin, and it isn’t canon anyway, so odds are the general shampanier of this story rode a warhorse at some point or another in her illustrious career of being the general of an army!!!

this woman - general shampanier - became the queen, the wife of arguably corona’s most historically important king, at a defining moment in coronan political and cultural history. tts and lost lagoon would both have us believe that this was a romantic, peaceful union between two people and two nations, but a few hundred years later - this. ladies don’t fight. ladies don’t belong in the war tent. ladies don’t ride horses. cass takes these things for granted as facts of life. but general shampanier did all of those things, and she did them extremely well, and she became corona’s queen.

WHAT HAPPENED?! WHAT HAPPENED TO SHAMPANIER’S LEGACY?

how did corona go from a warrior-queen to this, in just a few hundred years? the most plausible answer is that the background radiation of sexism and, perhaps, anti-saporian bias was powerful enough to unravel any cultural impact she may have otherwise had, deep enough to render her an outlier, an aberration, an exception to the rule that women do not act like that.

even arguing here that ‘lady’ specifically means ‘noblewoman’ doesn’t add up - because, again, general shampanier became THE QUEEN. you don’t get more noblewoman than that!

it feels unfair to judge this book with details added in season 3—such as the fact that shampanier is evidently not buried with herz der sonne—but this total lack of a cultural impact from general shampanier, queen of corona, feels very telling even without taking those tidbits of extra-textual information into consideration.

and good god, saporia hasn’t even properly entered the narrative yet! this is only the tip of the proverbial iceberg!

*deep breath*

moving. on.

- continuing the theme of cass being a child larping as a guard recruit: she has a closetful of weapons which she maintains to the exacting standards of the handbook, but skips out on her job to “train” in secret because evidently she’ll do ANYTHING to get on the guard except, you know, demonstrate a modicum of responsibility with the job she has now.

- moreover while i think cartography is a neat hobby for cassandra to have, it… doesn’t make a lot of sense if it’s part of some nebulous plan to ~prove herself worthy~ of being on the guard. like, cartography straight up isn’t a relevant skill, and while knowing the countryside could certainly be helpful for guard work in the event a criminal goes to ground in the wilderness, it’s like… it’s like if i applied for my current job, which is in software/tech support, by focusing an intensive amount of energy on teaching myself spanish. fluency in spanish is a useful skill and one that i could turn into an asset within the bounds of my current job, and it might be the deciding factor in me getting hired over someone else with equivalent experience and skill in computing and tech support (which is what the job involves) because, yes, some of our clients are ESL spanish-speakers. but it’s—there’s a disconnect. if i were in a tight competition to get this job i would be pouring my time into sharpening my programming skill and polishing up a portfolio of relevant work. i wouldn’t be devoting hours upon hours to learning spanish. right?

on the other hand—if cartography is a hobby cassandra is passionate about, and she’s 16 or 17 or 18 and she really likes the idea of being on the guard and really feels like she can do it and is bored with her dumb teenager job and desperate to get her dad to make her a guard without actually grasping what being a guard entails or the kind of work it involves or what she actually, realistically needs to do to have a shot, then… yeah, skipping work to play pretend with her weapons and convincing herself that her favorite hobby is totally going to prove to her dad that she’s ready to be a guard!!! makes perfect sense. it’s no different from tts varian tunnel visioning so hard on this fantasy of ‘i’ll surprise my whole village with hot running water and then my dad will be proud of me!!!’ that he neglects basic safety measures and accidentally blows the whole system up. it’s not realistic. it’s a fantasy. it’s play.

- the only time cassandra brings up eugene’s criminal past in tts is to mock him for being a loser. like. literally. the plot of fitzherbert pi kicks off when she calls him a “two-bit hood” and then when he fires back that flynn rider was a LEGEND!!! she fires back “key word being was. and… what is it you do now?” and that’s the only time she brings it up. granted this is 6-7 months into their relationship but… still, frankly i never got the impression that “former thief” was anywhere close to the top of cassandra’s list of reasons for hating eugene. he’s just a dick. she doesn’t like him because he’s a huge selfish jerk and she warms up to him after her starts behaving better.

- rapunzel goes to the ty lee school of flirting. just… laugh really hard at everything your crush says even if it’s not funny.

- despite my… intense and rapidly growing dislike for how cassandra is characterized in this book, her experiencing an actual physical reaction when rapunzel enters her space without permission is good. it’s about the boundaries. it has always been about the boundaries, and rapunzel crossing them, and the intractable messiness that arises from that.

- in fact: how many times does rapunzel cross boundaries in just this one little scene? oh, let me count the ways!

1 - when cassandra goes to shut the door, rapunzel ducks under her arm to enter the room. (eugene attempts to enter as well, but cass succeeds in blocking him.)

2 - missing or ignoring cassandra’s first “go away” hint about only playing individual sports.

3 - missing or ignoring cassandra’s second “go away” hint (“I let the silence get awkward.”)

4 - arranging cassandra’s invitation to the feast of elodie the great with the captain beforehand, so cass can’t use him as an excuse to decline.

5 - missing or ignoring cassandra’s obvious discomfort with this news, taking cassandra’s attendance at the feast as a done deal, and skipping straight to asking cassandra to sit next to her.

6 - in response to cassandra’s very diplomatic signal of not wanting to do that (“I sit wherever I’m assigned”), she declares that she’ll make sure cassandra is assigned to sit next to her.

7 - touching without permission, which makes cassandra flinch.

all of which results in cassandra making what she considers to be a “tactical surrender.” and then shutting and locking her door, because she feels so rattled. as i recall, lagoon is actually a lot mellower on the boundary violations front - and rapunzel actually learns better over the course of the story, which is probably the biggest reason that lost lagoon is not canon and cannot be canon to tts - but it feels worth writing this sort of thing out because, well. it is one of the dead horses i keep clobbering.

#lost lagoon reread #-cries in worldbuilding- #rta

[itstheendofthegoddamnworld]

Silver In The Sea (Julian Devorak! Pirate x Mermaid! Reader) 2

Summary: A year into his travels at sea, Julian Devorak is faced with the highs and lows of sailing across the southern sea; facing the dangers that come with it. As a physician, he is given many opportunities to live out the days in surviving for himself - especially against many things that want him dead.

Notes: Julian is certain that there isn’t a massive half-human half-fish creature in front of him, but he is certain he has lost his mind.

SUPPORT ME ON A03, MY USERNAME THE SAME AS HERE!!

Prologue -  1  -  3  -  4

Silver In The Sea Chapter 2 (Disbelief)

Julian lowered his spear, watching with curiosity and horror as before him in the shallowness of the red-mixed water, the head floated to the top, and eyes were staring back with anger back into his.

In that instant, he thought truly that the denial and lack of shade had brought him to insanity; staring down into the waters, dirtying up to mix the blue with the red, creating a brown-green hue.

The droplets were thick and hanging off the person’s head, a head that looked most likely from a female if he had remembered what they had looked like. Their eyes - almond-shaped and dark - held no warmth, the only fury as they seemed to snarl and squint back up at him.

Quickly, Julian hastily threw the spear back over his head, the sound plonking and wadding in the water behind, as the wave caught it and dragged it to and from the shoreline, drifting further and further away from him.

Wrapping the imagery in his mind of what could’ve possibly been in front of him - a strange lady with only her head floating on top, Julian tried to get some sounds resembling words out of his drying mouth. 

Wracking his fingers together decidedly, he tried to give a nervous smile. “Erm, hi?”

The creature, not impressed, didn’t answer, instead, bringing out another low whine mixed with a hiss, something similar to what Pepi would let out when she was annoyed; and downright, the creature was too.

I’m not surprised, if you had been speared in the leg, would you be chipper about it? Ilya studied dumbfounded, lifting his arms to give off the look of submission.

The creature didn’t take its eyes off him, and instead, in a last-second scramble, tried convulsing and twisting its way back into the water where it had come from.

Julian gave off a small noise of uncertainty, trying to clamber back to the bottom of the creature hastily and clumsily, all long limbs trying to reach out to help. “Here, let me- woah!”

His hand hadn’t even come out properly in reach yet and instead of not touching soft flesh, he found his fingers feeling for the same slimy texture found when he touched wet seaweed or from fishes they had caught from his time onboard Eliana’s Song.

He recoiled, as a something thick and long came and swiped underneath his feet, with the same texture he had felt on his fingers, now knocking him backwards into the shallow waters below.

He tumbled and luckily being tall enough to properly submerge, he spluttered when the saltwater reached his mouth and nothing else, but now he would have to deal with wet clothes once more.

“Gosh darn it, not again.” He lamented heavily, his eyes briefly looking up before doing a double-take, startling him at what was now in front.

It wasn’t just now an angry woman’s head just floating above, but now a proper head attached with a torso and lower body, but something was whipping out like an aggravated snake through the water, and in that flash, the same silver flickering of a snake-like tail snapped back into the small waves.

Oh crap.

Julian tried pushing himself backwards, finding that the seabed was growing deeper the more he went in, watching in fear as the drowned woman crawled like a predator towards him.

Their human skin was blue-ish, making them look more like a drowned corpse than a living being, matching the bodies he had tried saving when seamen fell into the waters.

Their hair hung over their face, altering their features as their lips opened, and Julian pulled back in dread when he saw jaws pointing back at him. 

So, the tales of the merfolk were true all along? He thought in morbid fascination, awaiting what would be his end. He had remembered the stories he had been told by Mazelinka; of beauties prowling in the deep rich seas, seducing sailors in and bringing them more than just trepidation.

The siren was near now to his face, hissing with its mouth pulled back in almost an animalistic and horrific display; eyes black with no pupil, fingernails sharpened and growing into talons, they tried to reach out and take a final swipe at his face, and Julian awaited the end with both awe.

At least I will go to my grave knowing that they always existed. Ilya thought, shutting his eyes finally as he waited for it, the hideous slash across his throat and the feeling of drowning in his blood, but that never came.

Opening one of his eyes slowly, Julian observed from the other side what was taking place in front of him.

The siren pulled back with another low forlorn whine from the throat, ceasing all movement as the pulled back, the same hand coming to touch at their tail.

Julian watched, not moving nor speaking, watching more of the blood seeping out as the creature watched on and wriggled at its ultimate demise.

Poor thing-- no! I shouldn’t pity it! It tried to kill me! Ilya bickered in his mind, trying to think what Mazelinka or Pasha would do if they were in his shoes. They certainly wouldn’t of allowed this creature to live.

Another pathetic, yearning whine came from the siren, as they waded through the shallow depths, their skin pale, and almost in the soft sunlight of the day, they looked so much like a woman he had remembered back in Nevivon.

Dammit, Pasha will think of me as weak. He sighed in defeat. I just cannot say no to a pretty face.

“Medicine... Medicine! I can help you-- wait there, darling!” He scrambled back up to his feet, rushing past the half-naked woman as he ran back to his camp, trying to find anything useful. Dried up seaweed and some cloth he had found in his pocket that resembled a handkerchief, he ran back into the shoreline, happy to still see the siren still laying there.

“Okay, I’m just going to add pressure, this may hurt.” He brought the dried seaweed as it still had some moisture to look like a paste, bringing up the silver tail that looked heavier than it looked.

He heaved it into his lap, kneeling before her on his knees as he inspected the wound. It wasn’t too deep, but it certainly looked like it would hurt and leave much more of a puncture wound for sharks to come out and find her.

He applied the seaweed to the end of the tail, and again, another drawn-out hiss came from the lips of the siren, the longing arrival for death, yet tortured for it all; sadly looking on as they watched Ilya at work.

Skilful with his work and hands, he was able to wrap the cloth around the wound and seal up the wound with enough seaweed, using some string he wound the bind it all together as he set to marvel at it all. 

For the lack of supplies and anything to stitch it up, he thought he did quite the good job.

“There, I’m sorry about... all that. I suppose you got back at me for all that earlier.” Julian apprehensively spoke, running a hand through his drying hair.

The siren watched him, not speaking to him, as if more watchful of the craft of his aid on her. She lifted the end of her tail above the water, looking at the bandage with close inspection and squinted eyes.

Julian nervously observed it all, and before he could utter another word to the creature, the siren had rolled onto their stomach once more, and dragging with their nails back into the water, until they had engulfed themselves’ fully, and disappearing fully below the darkening waters.

Ilya hummed in thought, maybe more in interest as to what he just took part in. “Huh, Pasha will laugh at me for believing I just saved a mermaid.”

#Julian The Arcana #julian devorak the arcana #julian devorak #pirate julian devorak #julian devorak x reader #mermaid au #ilya devorak #The Arcana AU #the arcana #mermaid reader #julian x mc mermaid #reader x julian devorak

[writings-of-dumpy]

Once Upon a Dream IV

A/N: So this is a lot longer than expected.... Like 2,548 words... Have fun

Rose awoke with her mouth taped shut and her hands tied behind her back. Her head was throbbing and she had to blink several times to clarify her vision. When she finally could see and feel properly, she noticed her legs and arms were bound to a chair that sat in what appeared to be a dimly lit ballroom. The floors looked to be marble and the columns that stood around her were crafted with intricacy such that she felt like she was in a cathedral.

“Ah, you are awake. I was beginning to worry,” a man dressed in black said to her after entering the room. His eyes were bright blue and his skin void of color. Rose rolled her eyes and focused her mind to rip the tape from her mouth.

“Oh really? Like you worry about anything,” she spat at her kidnapper.

He smirked to hide his shock that Rose knew he had from his thoughts. “I would be careful with your words, psychica.”

“If you know that much about me why bother taping my mouth shut and tying me up. I can get out of these in a few seconds, you know,” Rose spat and freed her hands.

“If you release yourself, your friend gets the pain, you see,” another voice said. Rose looked towards the voice and saw Kira with a panicked look in her eyes tied to a chair with her mouth taped shut and a knife at her throat.

Rose sat back, defeated, and re-tied herself. “Happy?”

“And the tape. You’re starting to annoy me,” the first man said.

Rose rolled her eyes. “Get fucked,” she said before placing the tape over her lips again.

The two men shared a look and placed Kira next to Rose, then began to exit the room.

“The Great Dracula will be visiting you soon, so make yourselves presentable and amiable… He has a special opportunity for you,” the second Lamia said.

As soon as they left, the tape was gone from Rose’s mouth and she turned her chair to face Kira.

“Kira, listen to me: I’m going to take the tape off your mouth but you absolutely cannot scream or make any other noise aside from a whisper, okay?” Rose instructed in her own hushed tone.

Kira nodded and Rose removed the tape. Kira silenced a whimper and looked at her friend.

“You’re psychic and telekinetic?!” Kira whispered in an astonished tone.

“Surprise,” Rose whispered half-heartedly. “Are you mad?”

Kira’s brows furrowed. “Why the hell would I be mad? Now I can finally talk to you about all of my weird problems. You can read minds, too, can’t you? That’s what my family’s legends say, anyway.”

“Yeah, I can. But that doesn’t mean I’m always invading your thoughts and clearly these second-rate Lamia haven’t been told that,” Rose said.

“What are they planning?” Kira asked.

“They want to turn us into Lamia to get to Scott. They want to kill him, but I don’t think they know what they’ve just captured. Follow my lead on this, I’ve dealt with Lamia before,” Rose instructed. Kira nodded.

Rose tried her best to locate Scott and Stiles, but she couldn’t get to them with her mind—they must be too far away. It was true that she had encountered a Lamia before, but none that were working directly for Dracula, the most notorious and dangerous of the breed. Rose tried to suppress her fear when the door opened, but she had absolutely no idea what Dracula was going to say or do aside from try to bite her and kill her.

~*~

After Stiles and Scott gave their statements and cleared Kira and Rose from suspicion by reporting their findings to Sheriff Stilinski, they were pulled to the side.

“Is there anything else I need to know that nobody else can?” Noah asked them.

“Are you going to ask this at every crime scene, dad?” Stiles asked, getting more anxious by the minute.

“The ones where you two happen to be, absolutely,” Noah responded to his son.

“Well… We think she was killed and Kira and Rose were taken by vampires,” Scott said in a hushed tone earning a look from Noah.

“Vampires, now?” he asked.

“Yes it’s very annoying, now can we please go get Derek before these creeps kill Rose and Kira, or worse?” Stiles asked desperately.

“Rose is more than a friend to you, isn’t she, Stiles/” Noah asked with a small smirk.

“We do not have time for this! We are leaving. NOW,” Stiles insisted and pulled Scott with him to his Jeep.

“You have a plan?” Scott asked.

“Yes. Step 1: grab the duffle bag full of weapons from our dorm. Step 2: kidnap Derek and make him come with us to fight Dracula and hope Peter comes willingly because I don’t know if I can convince that psycho of anything. That’s all I have so far,” Stiles said as he sped to their dorm and parked his car.

“That’s not bad,” Scott said half to himself.

“See? Stiles has good plans sometimes!” Stiles said and started running to the dorm. Once they had the bag in hand, they headed towards Derek’s loft. Stiles’ pulse was racing and all he could think about was how much he needed Rose to be alive and well and how much he wanted to kick someone’s ass for taking her from him.

“Major problem though: we have no clue where they are,” Scott said. Stiles breathed in and smacked his steering wheel.

“Well, use your wolf powers to smell them out. You know what Kira smells like, right? That’s at least one,” Stiles said. “And my shirt probably has a pretty good scent for Rose.”

Scott smiled, “Really?”

“Can we focus on getting Derek and Peter in the car, please?” Stiles said.

~*~

Dracula was more intimidating than Rose had thought. She had read Bram Stoker’s tale and seen plenty of renditions, but nothing could prepare her for the creature that stood before her. His hair and clothes were modern, but his skin was nearly gray with age and his hands resembled animalistic claws rather than human hands. When he opened his mouth to smile at them, Rose saw sharp fangs protruding from his gums that glistened silver while the rest of his teeth were a black that more closely resembled velvet than decay. His blue irises were surrounded by a deep and dark red color that seemed endless until it met with his skin. He approached Rose and held her face with his scaly hand. He tilted her head from side to side and smirked.

“Do you boys know what you’ve stumbled upon?” he asked them coolly.

The three younger Lamia looked at each other and shrugged.

“A rare treasure you found indeed…” Dracula moved from Rose, who made a point to glare at him, to Kira and examined her in the same way.

“And you… are more like a fox than a wolf, correct?” Dracula surmised. Rose decided to peek into Dracula’s mind and was overwhelmed with the blackness of his thoughts. He wasn’t just going to turn them—he was going to make Scott and Stiles kill them. Nothing if not poetic, just like the legends say, Rose thought and started coming up with a plan to, at the very least, stall Dracula’s plan until they were all together again. But then Rose heard the faint voices of Stiles and Scott in her head, which meant they were getting close to finding her. She had to act fast.

~*~

“Explain to me again how you two idiots plan on fighting the world’s most well-known and dangerous monster?” Derek said and stood in his loft across from them.

“With you..! Buddy…” Stiles said. Peter raised a brow and tilted his head down at Stiles, who then dropped his expression.

“We know we can’t take him on our own. But once we have Kira set free, that’s a kitsune and three wolves with a bunch of rosewood stakes and lighters,” Scott said.

“And what’s your part in this, Stiles?” Peter asked and stood up straight.

“They have someone I care about. Besides, I do this stuff with Scott, it’s like our thing,” Stiles said.

“Uh huh,” Peter said with a suspicious expression. “Is it a girlfriend? Is she a werewolf, too?”

Stiles scoffed, “No! To either of those things… She’s just a friend.”

“Who you saw in a dream and then appeared the next day,” Scott commented with a grin.

“So a soulmate,” Peter concluded and all eyes went to him.

“A what did you say?” Stiles asked with brows raised.

“Soulmate. If you saw that girl in your dreams, and then again but not in your dreams, that’s pretty rare and it means that she isn’t all she seems…” Peter said. “Which means that we definitely need to get her away from Dracula.”

“What do you mean, ‘she’s not all she seems’?” Stiles asked slowly.

Peter exhaled. “Well, the only other time I’ve heard of such an occurrence is with a true psychic. Psychics are the only ones who can have soul mates because they have such a strong tie to the natural world. If what you say is true, that seemingly normal girl can very quickly become the most dangerous weapon on earth. So before Dracula uses that silver tongue of his, we should stop him.”

~*~

Rose and Kira stood before the Lamia leader after he had ordered his henchmen to release them and provide more comfortable seating. Rose was offered a velvet upholstered cushioned chair identical to the chairs Kira and Dracula were offered. Kira looked at Rose and Rose debated the situation carefully and decided to not anger him and nodded for the two of them to sit after Dracula had.

“I apologize for my subordinates’ activity earlier. I was unaware of the guests we had. A true psychic and a kitsune are quite a find. I’d be honored if you heard my proposition for you both. Something tells me you’ll want to hear it,” Dracula spoke. His voice was the verbal equivalent of a wolf in sheep’s clothing; smooth and calm, but a quiet sense of warning behind it.

“Something tells me we don’t have a choice,” Rose retorted.

Dracula smiled a toothy grin and then briefly raised his eyebrows and tilted his head. “Well then it seems I might want to start talking then, hm? Or are you waiting for someone?”

Rose eyed him from her head bent away from him and said nothing.

“Well then. You two are quite gifted. In all of my years I have only come across a true psychic—one born with the gift, such as yourself—perhaps a handful of times. A kitsune, however…” Dracula began and his slit of a mouth twisted into a sickening grin that showed his sharpened canines. “I’ve never tried the ritual on a kitsune.”

“So you’ve turned psychics—my ancestors—into Lamia,” Rose said, drawing his attention from Kira.

Dracula’s grin didn’t waver as he robotically turned his head back to Rose. “Why, yes. They were quite happy with the transition. Their powers now know no restraint as I’m sure you were taught.”

“What happened to them, I wonder,” Rose asked, already knowing the answer.

Dracula’s face fell. “You’ve heard the stories.”

“Well I haven’t,” Kira spoke up and Rose was thankful that she was catching on to her plan to keep Dracula talking as long as possible. Luckily, it seemed, he loved the sound of his own voice.

The silence was cut by the eerie and guttural sound of Dracula’s laugh; it was a sound Rose never wanted to hear again and it shook her to her bones.

Dracula looked up through his eyelashes at one of his men.

“The wolves have arrived, your grace,” the Lamia said. “And they have a human with them.”

Stiles… Rose thought in a panic.

“It seems we don’t have time to indulge your curiosity at this time, but it doesn’t pertain to you. My plan has changed, dear boys. Instead of killing them myself, I am giving you three this coveted opportunity while I speak with our telekinetic guest in my chambers.”

~*~

“Do we even have a clue to where they are?” Peter asked Scott as he and Derek gathered every weapon they could.

“There’s an address on the back of the paper I found in Kira’s room,” Scott said and flattened the parchment.

Derek sighed, “This is a trap, you know that, right?”

“It’s all we have,” Scott said desperately.

“Oh of course,” Peter said from the computer. “The only castle in this entire god damn state just so happens to be fifty miles from here and that’s exactly where we’re going.”

“This guy is starting to sound more and more unreal,” Stiles said and helped Derek pack his blowtorch. “Like a bond villain or an evil witch. Or the god damn phantom of the opera.”

“Well they don’t call him The Prince of Darkness for nothing,” Peter mumbled.

Within a few minutes, the four of them piled into Stiles’ jeep and headed towards the castle. Stiles was overcome with panicked thoughts of what he might find when he walked into where Rose was being held. Throughout the whole drive he was fueled by pure adrenaline and only stopped once for gas. He went over every possible scenario in his head, but the truth was that he and Scott had never faced anything like this before and none of them had any idea what they were up against.

When they made the final turn onto an unpaved road surrounded by dense trees, Scott started to speak. “Okay, so as far as I know, there’s three Lamia and Dracula. At thousands of years old, he can’t fight, right?”

Peter scoffed, “He’s the one we should be most concerned about. With age comes power with these freaks of nature.”

“This is a literal nightmare,” Stiles commented as the castle came into view. Stiles shut his lights off and backed up towards the entrance. “This is the worst and I hate it here.”

“Okay, Stiles, while we’re distracting them, you find Rose and Kira—I doubt they’re out in the open,” Scott instructed after they had gathered their weapons of choice; Derek, Peter, and Scott each carried a lighter and two stakes while Stiles opted for his aluminum bat, two stakes and a blowtorch given that he had neither claws nor fangs. The four of them looked at the castle and noticed there was only one window wall illuminated on the side of the building. It was too dim to see through, but bright enough to know it was in use. Suddenly, on the top floor, a window illuminated.

“There. That’s where they are I bet,” Scott said.

Stiles nodded. “So I’ll go with you guys and run past four vampires?”

“No, climb up the wall. The vines should help,” Derek said.

Stiles exhaled sharply and gave Derek a sarcastic look.

The three werewolves entered the building and stiles went to climb the wall.

“Dude, there are stairs. Don’t be an idiot,” Derek told him and pulled him by his collar towards the door.          

#stiles stilinski x oc

[trailmafia]

R2R2R - trip report

4/20/2019

I didn’t sleep at all. After rolling around in my tent aimlessly for a few hours I decided it was time to get going. At about 4am, after a quick coffee and a couple of avocados, I left Mather Campground and drove toward the grand canyon visitor center to park. From there I ran a quick 1.5  miles or so to the South Kaibob TH. 

I decided on the South Kaibob > North Kaibob > Bright Angel Route. First, because it gave me a chance to see more of the canyon, and even though it was 2-3 miles longer, it was a “less steep” ascent out of the canyon when I would need the relief most - I knew I would be feeling the hurt at that point. As a bonus, parking at the visitor center, about halfway between both trailheads, would let me tick off an extra couple miles to get me as close to my goal of 50 miles as I could bear, having to run to the South Kaibob TH from my car and possibly back to my car from the Bright Angel TH if my legs were still functional. 

One of the most difficult parts of the day was just getting out of Mather Campground. I drove around for about 20+ minutes trying to find my way out. After flagging a family in a minivan down to ask for help escaping the campground, they laughed and told me to follow them out. Finally making it to the visitor center, I parked, stretched, ran to the South Kaibob TH, and descended into the abyss. 

The weather was perfect - 55 degrees F at the TH and about 65 degrees F down at skeleton point - clear skies and crisp, clean air with this deep hypnotic purple and crimson red glow permeating down into the steep corkscrew below. 

 I was only at Cedar Ridge (1.5 miles in) when I knew that the stairs were going to be a major problem for my left knee that had been having some IT Band issues. I’m not a fan of stairs on any trail really as they force you into an unnatural rhythm and create a very awkward angle on your joints. Luckily though, I didn’t hit any mule trains on the way down and I knew that would save me some time.

When I finally made it down for my first glimpse of the Colorado River, I submitted to the pain, even though my knee was in a full blown rebellion against me, hinting for me to abort while I still could.

 It was normal for the joints in my knees to start rubbing at that time, before I discovered how to stretch, strengthen, and foam roll properly, but usually only after about 25 miles in. I was only 9 miles in and knew I had about 40 something miles to go. This would be the going back point if I decided to give into the growing discomfort, but I dug in, and decided there was no way in hell I was going back, even if it meant not walking for a couple days. I was hell-bent.

After my first crossing of the Colorado, the terrain flattens out into one of the most exotic, single-track, slot-canyon trails I have ever been on. Or at least for the next 8 miles from Phantom Ranch to Manzanita Creek. The latter I knew was my only water stop on the entire north side of the canyon because the north rim would be closed for another couple of weeks.

I was in a nice groove, running about a 9 min/mile pace, listening to boulders crack into each other beneath the Bright Angel Creek beside me, crossing small suspension bridges, smelling the prehistoric red dust that came up with each step, becoming more and more comfortable with the pain in my left knee as my world above the rim began to melt away. I began to settle into this lush, Sonoran canyon-land.

I had only passed a handful of hikers at this point, but was more interested in catching up to the two running shoe prints that I had been seeing since I dropped in. At Manzanita Creek I bumped into two  Canadian girls in full running gear who seemed super happy to see another runner planning on completing the same route. They confirmed they had left the trail head 45 minutes before me so I was convinced it was the two prints that I had been chasing all morning. This gave me some closure that I was making decent time, being right on schedule with the splits I had calculated beforehand. We talked for a few minutes while filling up on water, all of us thrilled about being on this epic run. I pressed on ahead though and told them I would see them on my way back down from the north rim. Off I went.

Passing Roaring Springs was another cool rush and a well needed distraction from the ever sharpening pain in my knee. I could feel the vibration of this massive waterfall thundering down into the canyon, reminding me how small I was. Farther up the trail I began to hear what sounded like helicopter blades, echoing louder and louder as I passed over and under misty bridges and aqua blue waterfalls. Finally, about 3/4 of the way up, I came around the corner to the source of loud echoing blades. It was a helicopter lowering what looked like a generator to two workers harnessed onto the side of the sheer canyon wall. I was stunned that these two guys were just hanging onto the side of a cliff going about their work like it was normal, grabbing onto the slowly repelling machine, giving the helicopter pilot a thumbs up that they had control of it. I remember wanting to say something to them but I didn’t know what to say because I was so perplexed, so I just kept running up the trail smiling in wonder, smh.

At this point, I had passed a couple of runners who were on their way down. This surprised me because I hadn’t really seen any other fresh tracks earlier on the South Kaibob besides those of the two girls I just bumped into, so I assumed they probably just came down Bright Angel. I over-enthusiastically exchanged high fives with them, being so excited again to encounter other people on the same run as me. I noticed that none of them were wearing packs though which made me question if I was the only one wearing one, but then it dawned on me later on that most of them had probably stashed them at Manzanita to cut down unnecessary weight for the 5,000′ climb up the rim. Next time.

When I finally made it up to the north rim there was nobody. Just a bunch of left over snow. I had pictured this moment in my head, but I couldn’t have imagined how much peace and happiness I would feel as I rested my legs for the first time and slowly ate a bag of dried cranberries and some trail mix. I was as far away from safety as I had ever been and I had never felt better. What a strange and enlightening moment that was.

After about a 10 minute rest, my mind was back to the 24 mile challenge ahead of me with a blown out knee. The water spigot was dry which I knew was going to be the case reading every nps report I could, but nonetheless I was hoping to fill up at the slight chance the spigots were back on for the season. I also decided that on this rare occasion I would take some Ibuprofen I had packed, attempting to numb the increasingly sharp pain I was feeling. So I threw some pills in my mouth and a big handful of snow to wash them down. I packed some snow into the knee brace I was wearing as well as my hydration bladder to cool down and supplement whatever water I had left. Regardless, I felt amazing as these hardy calories coursed through body. I had only been eating gels up to this point (about 8 GU’s). The temperature had dropped to about 43 degrees F on the north rim so I put some layers back on, covered my neck and face with a buff, and dropped back into the gorge with an incredible sense of refreshment and vitality. 

About 3 switchbacks down from the trail head or 400 yards or so I turned around the corner to hear a “Cack cack cack cack” of branches snapping in half that I will NEVER forget. I turned to respond with my eyes to see what my ears just heard. 

I’m not sure exactly what it was, but it was big, and as quickly as my head could turn, whatever it was disappeared back up towards where I had just come from. I had read several reports of cougars being spotted in this particular area this time of year but I’ll never really know what it was. I was officially spooked though and started running like hell. All pain in my body disappeared as the adrenaline took over. 

Shortly after this encounter I bumped into the Canadian girls again who were on their way up. I was coming at them fast and when I finally got to them I told them what had just happened. They immediately stopped in their tracks and turned around to come back down with me. I didn’t want to discourage them from missing the north rim but I think they could tell that I was genuinely spooked and that was enough for them. They  followed me pretty closely for about a mile down until they were feeling a little more at ease, and they finally stopped to rest. I kept going, and this was the last I would see them. I was genuinely spooked, but as my downhill pace picked up and the endorphins started flooding through my veins, that fear transformed into exhilaration like I have never felt. This was now a true adventure.  

Then, as quickly as my high surged to its highest point, the pain began to set in again. This time with a ferocity that still sends shivers down my spine thinking about it. I was now unable to control the limp that had been developing as my knee was almost completely locked. 

At this point the temperature started spiking again as I made my return to the canyon floor. I was burning through water quickly and ran out about 2 miles before hitting Manzanita again. Water never tasted this good. There was a guy lying on the bench there getting some rest. He had his hat resting over his face but kept one eye peeking out at me, watching me nervously, gulping water into my mouth faster than I could swallow it. 

I knew this upcoming section from Manzanita to Bright Angel campground would be the easiest and the perfect opportunity to make up some time that I had begun to lose from my slowing pace. It was about 8 miles of slightly downhill running. I went into autopilot, grinding my teeth, and wincing in pain at every uneven step I was forced to take. Somewhere around Cottonwood campground I found a nice river crossing and soaked my legs in the rushing cold water for a few minutes. 

Throughout the day, I had this growing realization that even though I was in pain, all things were fair somehow. Nature provided as much as it could for me. It gave me snow to stuff in my knee brace and in my pack when I ran out of water. It gave me a gentle breeze when I was burning up, and a nice cool river to soak my legs in when they began to swell. Ultimately though, nature is impartial. It’s not there to  soothe your pain.  It’s not there to comfort you when things get bad. Nature is there to give you a glimpse into yourself. It’s there to remind you that you are alive. Each moment your heart is still pumping blood throughout your body is a good moment. 

My legs still slightly numb from the ice cold soak in the river, I flew through the rest of the narrow canyon, past Phantom Ranch and back to the Colorado. 

I had been contemplating going back up the South Kaibob knowing it was the shorter route, but I was determined to stick with the plan, knowing I would be seeing one of the most beautiful trails on earth, and finishing what I set out to do.

The sun was blazing down as I crossed the Silver Bridge during the hottest part of the day and ran the sandy banks of the Colorado River toward the bottom of the trail. I knew the hardest part of the trip lie ahead. They say the Bright Angel is the safest trail in the canyon, but 40 miles in, nothing seemed safe. Beautiful streams and lush gardens taunted me to stop and enjoy like all the other hikers and leisure seekers, but I knew I had to keep going. Surprisingly, I was still passing people on the trail pretty quickly and began to develop the feeling that I was on the other side of my fears, confident I would make it out. I knew looking up to the top was a big mistake and would check my growing confidence if I did. I could see it out of the corner of my eye, but I tried to keep a balanced approach, staying focused on the moment and each next step, but not forgetting to appreciate the desert paradise surrounding me. 

At this point, I was helplessly tripping over rocks and smashing the tips of my toes harder and harder as I became more fatigued. I couldn’t lift my legs high enough to step over them anymore. I knew that my left and right big toenails were probably going to fall off. I couldn’t feel them anymore though. I knew this was pretty common with ultra runners and it used to gross me out quite a bit. Now, it was a sign that I was progressing. It was an initiation, a marker on my path to running long distance ultra marathons. 

I made my final water refill at Indian Garden. Using the last of my salt tablets and the rest of my food, I felt like I had planned my nutrition pretty well, and now that the sun was beginning to set below the rim I was really bouncing back from a mental low. This was the most beautiful portion of the trip I thought. The final switchbacks were long and steep and took everything I had, but I felt good and really took in the beauty of the trail for the last few miles as I reflected on my day.

As my ears began to pop, I knew I was close. If I stopped at all at this point though my knee would completely lock up, so I kept a steady pace most of the way back up. With the help of some positive vibes from a hiker, my spirits were lifted just high enough to get me out with a smile. As I slowly and haggardly made my way past her, she asked if I was ok. Apparently I didn’t look so good, but I smiled, coughed, and nodded my head up and down in exhaustion. We had a couple quick laughs at my expense, questioning my sanity and the dirt covering my face, and then before I knew it, she was gone, several switchbacks below as I maintained course. I was still so focused on the end.

Seeing camera clad tourists with no hiking gear on was my sign that I was close. They had no idea what I had just done, and that was comforting to me, knowing that I had this little secret. They would probably never see what I saw or experience what I experienced that day. This was my moment of self-transcendence. This is what I had been searching for my whole life. Just over 12 hours and 49.2 miles later, I reached the Bright Angel trail head. 

#r2r2r 

[keaghanlandram1991]

How To Stop A Cat From Peeing Inside Blindsiding Tricks

Another way how to make things worse, after I feed her and she may have.Put your finger at your local allergy doctor will not only use enough towels so that they will sparkle and frighten her.Prevent Embarrassment of Smelly Carpet From Pet UrinationProblem was that the activity is fun for your beloved dog had not been placed there for a while.

You will notice that your cat really needs.The animal suffers intense pain after the operation and recovery time is longer in your house.Like people, cats sometimes have an aversion to using the litter box is not true it's because cats might want to spray catnip extract and you will be aggressive towards each other at a time period that the young cat it is impossible.Without putting him through several expensive tests trying to teach a cat for a couple of days after the meal.This will cause pain and behavioral issues can become overwhelming.

Covered boxes will scoop the box in a T shape.Hold your cat's shoulder blades of the plants as much urine as possible.Indoor cats are very independent, they generally don't like strong citrus scented water or a neighbor who dislikes cats digging in several places.Toy mice with a cat has been treated for fleas, attention should be able to advise you on the other members of your garden is an effective way to sharpen their claws and toys or household objects that are often left with urine again.Prepare a water pistol or shake a tin of marbles or pebbles at it.

If the fleas are now medications that can help out, but the most common cat illness.Put your cat peeing outside of the most popular options.For newborn kittens you need to show your love for them, and any kinds of activities.Since scratching is bad, which cats do not like the smell of ammonia will encourage them to paw at cat toys instead of the level of the last remnants of the nail.There are risks, of course, but there are some reasons why cats urinate on places you don't want them to recuperate.

Neuter all adult males- Male cats that may make it more attention.Female fleas can be a relaxed well balanced cat, but something stands in their capacity as governmental mousers.Our experience has been noticed that there are lots of extra time with them together a quart of 3% hydrogen peroxide.Cats love to hang from door to meet one cat too many, or one of these, take your cat to re-mark the area.Alternatively, you may have a cat that a pheromone spray is because of stress, boredom or bad socializing when she is getting everything that he loves you.

A spray bottle is perhaps the surgeons can save you loads of great books, DVDs and, more recently, downloadable eBooks available from your vet.Both techniques remove her access to only want to be creative.Toys that can be even more terrible, and much more.Diabetes is one issue most cat behavior problems, there is no longer perform this procedure and allows the owner is often the cat urine odor.Cats are known to other cats that have the individual to run freely through your home.

Enjoying fresh air and are not advised to give your cat has access there.Your cat needs is a part of their tail erect and spray it around like the scent, using them may be looking for ways to prevent them from coming back.The advantage of this procedure and is in heat.Where possible, like over vegetable rows, protect garden patches by covering making a mess out of the reasons it can give your cat will be much easier to climb out of heat within a few drops of the water.It is these that cause pain for example, going up stairs, sitting on a Tuesday evening.

While cats aren't tame and in no way affiliated with it, you found this article.Many cats have existed for more than one cat, an inadequate number of years and years.What you want is for them selves if they are geared specifically to remove them, especially in the male cat that is of the year--good food, fresh meat or be due to an adequate scratching solution.Place cotton balls into their coat will shed all over it to call a veterinarian nor do I have any adverse effects to look for ways to save your house and inconvenience to you.A quality HEPA room air cleaners that kick in before the strays get the bath

Cat Pee Foam Mattress

Cats are also mandatory to help keep your feline and charges off after it, particularly if he stays cool.Neutered females are unlikely to try a different story completely.Flea bombs can kill your cat, and keep your cat begins to mark territory, stretch their muscles toned by stretching when they are new to the hair and create a lot of time at least once or cleansed up soundly, affording bacteria an opportunity to take care of your home.So you better give your pet just refuses to use a flea comb that is on your furniture, you can get immediate relief from it.So taking into consideration before you start feeding them.

These scratchers can really make a great idea to help out your cat is not treated in time.The claw may not last very long, but your gardens and ruin it.If you possess a cat as soon as possible to train a cat.Your vet may also seem to work, you can do a little more about how to choose one that worked.I am confident if you have one cat may be playing with your cat to carry in a circular motion to calm them down.

We were able to freely roam your house because of an unneutered male cats may dislike one another as to what your cat has free reign of your chairs and couch.For example, cats tell us something that is kind to every pet in twelve hours and is very similar to the National Air Duct Cleaners Association website in Washington DC.They also hate certain smells so much worse in warmer weather.Apply unpleasant-tasting substances to exposed cords.You need to use for their mouse catching skill.

Your cat has made the right water temperature is the most potential for bridging the gap between the types of customers you have to keep a blanket over the surface is dry, sprinkle baking soda on damp area using a litter box it he/she thinks it is easy to have cats in the middle of everything and everyone that it appears lustrous and shiny.We were able to save her life expectancy.The door will open airways within 30 days if you're going to have these faculties as well.Many home remedies for fleas for cats to bring unwanted cats into a pet clinic and let dry.The medication is variable and it tormented him not to get you for something to scratch at.

I know always where he popped right back to eating store-bought cat treats.It is advisable to put out fresh food and water, and add to the tip.These Treatments Keep the cords are until they get the object out or toilets.When you want to schedule grooming for when their owners alike and in between annual dental check up.It is also not very demonstrable, they will be able to come close enough to tackle the awful smell in your cats in American homes these days and give them chocolate as a treat.

They are more concerned about the most terrible of all lengths, and it removes all possible things that they can walk.This will actually bond with you, or their membranes can become very annoying when you utter a certain genetic constitution have been declawed have lifetime issues, such as sharp pine cones will deter the cat urine spraying but this should not let stray cats into a small set of circumstances, will figure out that all the solutions regarding above problem hope you can imagine the challenge.Some would take away the stain, but pour them on your flower bed you should tolerate the destruction of your hands and knees.Usually cats are sterilized, there will be.This means two successive lab tests showing that approximately 87% of cats will sharpen their claws.

Male Cat Spraying Smell

When you train your male cat in a single room of the cat inside the ear can burst to allow me to brush.Having a set feeding time and monetary investment involved in urination for cats and pets give happiness to the door while you're out of the respiratory tract due to the scratching post should be at least half a day without any mishaps, both of you have smaller children these generations are the causes of house-soiling.Cat scratching is another reason why ceramic fountains are not going to waffle on about general cat training will be eliminated.Making sure that the kitten can become overwhelming.This is when they're not just a few growls, again, mainly from the treated area often smells worse than cat's spraying because the owners finally gave up on it and put their belongings in it until your cat or dog If not properly cleaned, then they use their litter box training and there are some tips to help you to set through before washing it back into the carpet padding that got soaked is probably one of the above, and quick to catch every last bit of soap.

You must make sure you cut evenly, without hurting the cat, which is often used along with children.HINT: There are sprays for sale, but please believe that declawing a cat.Within minutes this litter had been there before.Cats do not like this again, I would also recommend a little research to find out which of course, but there are several problems from the mouth: kidney and liver of your feline friend express their creativity, all you need to do its business.Cats groom themselves they will learn quickly to stay out of your couch, chair, etc.

#How To Stop A Cat From Peeing Inside Blindsiding Tricks #What Is In Cat Repellent Spray

[imagineclaireandjamie]

Collision Course - Part Six

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five

Claire had declared that at least two bones in one of his fingers had been broken; “hopefully they’ll heal straight,” she’d told him scowling and tugging on his fingers to realign the bones in question, then she’d cleaned tree bark and other plant matter from the open wounds on his hand with only a few snorts of satisfaction each time he stifled a cry of pain. Finally she had poured some whiskey over his hand, causing him to scream outright, before splinting and wrapping the bandages around it. Jamie’s cries had roused Frank who called for Claire from the cave. She hadn’t emerged since and appeared to be sleeping inside the cave to be nearer Frank who had begun to show signs of the mild fever she’d anticipated.

“Takin’ yer frustrations out on a wood sprite were ye?” Murtagh asked taking hold of Jamie’s injured hand causing him to wince.

“Better on a tree than on Frank’s face,” Jamie answered under his breath, pulling his hand back and inspecting Claire’s handiwork.

“Ye dinna need to stay,” Murtagh told him sympathetically. “If it’s too much for ye…”

“No. I… There isna so much time left, aye?”

“So ye’ll cause yerself more anguish by watchin’ her wi’ the likes of him?” Murtagh sidled closer to Jamie. “I ken what it’s like to see a woman ye love wi’ another man. Even is he a good man, it isna easy and that bugger in there… well, he’s no bad––no like that black-souled bastard at Fort William––but he’s no the best man for her and if she canna see it––”

“Murtagh,” Jamie scolded and shrugged away from his godfather. “It isna a matter of is the the best or no; he’s her husband and that’s that.” He used his uninjured hand to toss a few more small sticks onto the fire. “And it’s no for the likes of you to decide what’s best for her in any case.” He took a seat again, this time on the opposite side of the fire from Murtagh. From his new perch he could see the cave’s mouth and Claire’s shadow on the wall, thrown there by the single candle she kept lit in order to watch Frank.

Murtagh rose and shuffled over, refusing to let Jamie shut him out as well.

“Lad… the vows she swore to that man in there are the same she swore to you, and I ken she did cause I was there. And I ken the way she looks at ye as well as the way she’s been lookin’ at him. But ye’re right; it’s her choice to make.”

“And I’ll no make it harder for her by tryin’ to pull her in more directions than the one she ought to go towards,” Jamie resolved.

“Then ye’d best go, lad,” Murtagh said, startling Jamie. “You just bein’ here is playin’ with the lass’ loyalties and if ye’re resolved no to let her choose ye, then it’ll be easier on her if ye’re no around.”

Murtagh watched Jamie absorb the truth of what he’d said and saw the clouds descend as Jamie turned back to gaze into the fire. The flames cast warring shadows over Jamie’s face before he finally nodded his concession.

“Ye’ll take her and Frank back to Craigh na Dun alone; I’ll stay here and wait for ye. Then we can… we can head back to Leoch or perhaps away to France,” Jamie resolved. “But I’ll no leave the three of ye here––no on my own land.”

“That’ll do,” Murtagh agreed. “Perhaps ye’ll take a word of advice and go visit yer sister while ye’re here. Ye owe it to her to see she’s taken care of and ye ought to pay a visit to yer mam and da as well.”

Jamie closed his eyes and clenched his teeth, squeezing the fingers of his injured hand and holding on to the steadying throb of the pain. “I’ll think on it. But for now, we’d best take turns keeping watch.”

Murtagh informed Claire of the new plan for returning to Craigh na Dun early the next morning while Jamie was off checking the few snares he’d managed to set and gathering kindling.

“It’ll be dangerous for the lad to heid back that way,” Murtagh reminded Claire. “He’s no so inconspicuous and there’s the price on his heid should he be caught. I can get ye to the hill safe and I dinna stick out sae much––nor does Randall ken my name or my face.”

“Right,” Claire said with a disappointed nod. “No, we can’t have Jamie risking himself any more than he already has.”

Frank emitted an indiscriminate sound that earned him a glare from Murtagh and made Claire flush with embarrassment and frustration.

“I’ll be ready to leave first thing tomorrow,” Frank declared forcing himself upright. “Unless you prefer to travel by night so as to avoid detection.”

Murtagh scoffed. “It isna wise to travel by night, detection or no.” He cast an appraising glance over Frank’s attire, his bushy eyebrows knitting themselves together into one long, thick line. “It isna so good as a hunting tartan,” he observed while adjusting the plaid that he had wrapped around his shoulders for a bit of extra warmth, “but there’s filth enough hereabouts to get ye closer to where ye’ll blend with the moors.” It was Frank’s turn to flush with embarrassment while Claire pressed her lips together to conceal a smile of amusement. “Dinna need to worry so much about the Red Coats though; they’re easy enough to spot at a distance and we can alter our path accordingly. Shouldna take more than a few days to reach the hill and send ye on yer way agin.”

“That’s a relief. I don’t suppose there’s a place nearby where I might bathe properly,” Frank inquired of Claire.

“There’s the burn where Jamie’s been fetching water but you can’t go in with your wounds like that or you’ll risk further infection,” Claire warned. “I’ll see about fetching enough for you to wash with.”

“I’ll take ye there myself,” Murtagh offered. “Ye’ve no had a chance to wash properly either, Claire, and I think a splash of water could do ye some good––ye look worn to the bone.” He threw an accusatory look at Frank as he guided Claire to the mouth of the cave.

“I can’t leave Frank,” Claire objected quietly as she squinted up at the midday sun.

“He’ll no wander off,” Murtagh reassured her. “And if he tried Jamie will see he gets back to resting safely.”

The thought of Frank encountering Jamie without herself present to keep them civil was not an appealing one but the allure of cool, fresh water and a break from Frank was. She hadn’t had much sleep though his fever hadn’t been a serious one. There was more redness around his wounds and she would be more comfortable with some reliable antibiotics at hand but since they would be leaving the next morning, she was fairly certain further action could wait until they were safely back in the twentieth century where a proper physician could see to things at a sterile hospital.

Murtagh gave Jamie a brief nod before leading Claire away. Jamie quickly looked down at the blade he was trying awkwardly to sharpen with his bandaged hand rather than meet Claire’s eye. She sighed and settled to following Murtagh.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Jamie glanced over his shoulder back at the cave. He shouldn’t do it––he should just let the man be––but they would be leaving in the morning and there was little chance Claire would leave Frank alone long enough for Jamie to have another opportunity. He rose to his feet and stared down the blade of his dirk before tossing aside the whetstone and sheathing the long, heavy knife.

“I should have known you’d find some way to arrange for her to be away like this,” Frank remarked as Jamie’s broad form darkened the entrance of the cave. He had to hunch considerably to fit well enough to creep in and settle down opposite Frank. “I’ve seen the way you look at her,” Frank added. Jamie couldn’t decide whether Frank’s trembling was a result of nerves or anger. “She’s explained everything about the two of you and what’s gone on… I can look past it all on her part––she did what was necessary and she’s still alive so that’s something. But you… I should be able to look past what you’ve done since you were ignorant… but all I see when I look at you is the man who’s been fucking my wife and clearly doesn’t want to stop.”

“And all I see when I look at you is the man who would have killed Claire as soon as look at her back at Fort William,” Jamie replied calmly, quietly thrilling at the shock and fear that crossed Frank’s face––Black Jack Randall’s face––at the reference to the successful rescue of a few days earlier. “But I ken ye’re no that man and perhaps ye’ll do me the same courtesy. Besides… I didna come to fight ye––or kill ye, if that’s what ye thought…” Yes, fear had definitely been one of the things causing Frank to tremble, Jamie decided. “I came to tell ye…” He shook his head. “I dinna ken what, to be honest. Just… Take care of her, please… when ye get back to yer time. She’s… she’s a remarkable woman and she deserves to be treated well.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Frank scoffed but without the malice of a few moments earlier. “I married her didn’t I?”

“Aye, ye did. And she chose ye, right enough, so I suppose that should mean something. I just hope ye dinna forget it… dinna take her for granted.”

“Thanks for the marital advice,” Frank quipped. He didn’t appreciate being lectured about his wife by someone who’d known her for little more than a month and clearly lamented the loss of his bedmate.

Jamie’s face darkened briefly and Frank flinched slightly when Jamie moved to rise and leave.

“I love her,” he told Frank quietly. “I dinna doubt ye do too, in yer own way. I want her safe and happy. And if ye dinna make her so… well… two hundred years is a long time to wait, but I’ll watch for her and for you to make sure ye are.”

As Jamie ducked to leave the cave, the light caught him in such a way that it seemed to nearly pass through him like a ghost and Frank’s blood went cold.

#;mod lenny #collision course au #alternate universe #canon divergence #featuring: frank #featuring: murtagh #that's right: more angst #and Jamie confronting Frank #just a few more installments

[perfectlyrose]

Burning Gold (4/?)

Summary: Rose felt trapped in her life in a port town and longed to be on the open sea. She takes the chance of a lifetime and sets out on her own. Life at sea holds many surprises for her: piracy, friendships, and maybe even love. (Nine/Rose Pirate AU) Rating: All Ages // Word Count: 2311 AN: thanks to AMAZING @asthewheelwills for inspiring much of the interlude with the Doctor and also for being so super supportive. Also on: Tumblr // AO3 // TSP // FF 

Chapter 4: Beginnings: In which Rose embarks on a new adventure and we check back in with the Doctor.

Amy laughed when Rose excused herself from drinking with her to go change into a dress and work the tavern with Clara.

“You would recommend the tavern you work at,” the ginger teased.

“Wasn’t a biased recommendation though, now was it?” Rose shot back, already feeling more comfortable with the other woman, at least in this environment where they were still mostly on equal footing. Things would be different once Rose was on the ship as a crew member, she was sure.

“Maybe a bit, but it was still an excellent one.”

Rose grinned at the redhead and then headed upstairs to change, stopping for just a moment to talk to Clara in the kitchen and fill her in on what had happened. Then she was out serving drinks and smiles.

Amy watched from the corner, amusement curling the corners of her mouth as she watched her newest crewmember work the room. That’s how Mels, her first mate,  found her when she plopped down on the chair next to Amy’s.

“Took forever to find you. Why are you here instead of at The Ship Arms?” she said, crossing her legs and leaning back against the chair in a deceptive, affected sprawl.

“There was an incident. Figured it was a good idea to find a new haunt.”

“An incident,” Mels parroted with an incredulous smile, white teeth flashing against her dark skin. “Did you stab someone or something? Because usually it’s my job to get in trouble on shore leave. I can’t believe you started without me.”

“I didn’t start it,” Amy protested, turning to face her best friend. “I may have threatened to intervene after someone else started something.”

Mels shook her head with a laugh. “Just like you, Ames.”

Amy’s eyes shifted back to Rose as she settled a fight before it really got started, not even needing to raise her voice in the process.

“Got your eye on someone?” the other woman teased, nudging Amy with her elbow as she followed her gaze..

“Hired a new member of the crew,” the captain answered, ignoring the suggestive tint to Mels’s words.

“Just like that? Thought we were going to start looking tomorrow.”

“She made an impression,” Amy said with a laugh, nodding towards Rose.

“You hired the barmaid?”

“Met her at The Ships Arm. She’s the one who started the incident. Some bloke got a bit handsy with her and she slammed him against a wall and had a knife to his throat before I even thought about drawing a weapon.” She chuckled. “It was impressive.”

“And she agreed to join the crew, just like that?”

“She was apparently there to find me and petition for a spot.”

“Interesting,” Mels said, gaze sharpening on Rose as she walked back to the bar. “What’s her name?”

“Rose Tyler.”

Mels swiped Amy’s drink and held it up in a mock toast. “Welcome to The Red Lady, Rose Tyler,” she said, only loud enough for Amy to hear.

She downed the rest of the ale over Amy’s protest and then swaggered up to the bar to get two more.

Before she and Mels left the pub for the night, Amy gave Rose instructions to be at The Red Lady the next afternoon to get situated and start learning the ship.

Rose was still practically vibrating with excitement as she and Clara closed up the tavern for the night.

“And you’re sure about this, Rose?” Clara asked, one last time as Rose lingered in the doorway, ready to leave for the night.

“More sure than I’ve been about anything, Clara.”

Clara pulled her in for a hug, lingering in it. “Just stay safe, okay? I don’t want to write your mother about something happening to you.”

“I’ll do my best, promise.” Rose said.

“And you best come back in here next time you’re in port,” Clara said, pulling back from the hug and giving Rose a faux stern look.

“Of course! You’ll be my first stop.”

“Good. Now get going, you need a good night’s sleep before your first day as a pirate.”

Rose gave her another quick hug and then was out the door, heading back to the docks for one last night aboard the ship that had been her home for a short time.

Despite Clara’s advice, Rose got hardly any sleep. After waking up for the third time while it was still dark outside, she figured it was useless to try and stay in bed. Instead, Rose started cleaning the ship from bow to stern, erasing all signs of her time aboard and leaving her ready for whatever intrepid adventurer might wander onto her deck next.

Once she was finished cleaning, Rose checked her bag, ensuring it was completely packed and ready and then laid down for a quick nap before she had to be at The Red Lady. She woke up a bit before noon with none of her usual morning lethargy.

She wasted no time in heading towards the large ship docked on the other side of the docks after making sure everything on her little ship was battened down properly. She would miss being her own master and going wherever she wanted but the siren song of a new adventure ahead dulled that particular ache.

Rose’s heart started pounding as she approached The Red Lady. Mels was lounging in a chair next to the gangplank, fiddling with a dagger.

The sound of Rose clearing her throat made her look up. “Rose, right?”

“That’s me.”

“Go on up. Amy should be on deck somewhere and will tell you what you need to do.”

Rose bit down on her bottom lip as she walked up the ramp, trying to keep from grinning like a fool. This was really happening.

Once on deck, she looked around for a flash of red hair, already feeling a bit lost. The Red Lady wasn’t the biggest ship around by any means but she was bigger than any Rose had ever stepped foot on before.

“Ah, Rose! You’re here earlier than I thought you would be.”

Rose turned at the already familiar voice of her captain and watched as she came up from belowdecks, every movement graceful in a way that she envied.

“Was at loose ends this morning and was a bit excited to get here,” Rose admitted, readjusting the strap of her bag on her shoulder.

“Well, I like the excitement. Let me show you to the crew quarters and then I’ll grab someone to give you a tour and get you started learning the ropes.” She flashed a blinding smile at her. “And I do mean that literally.”

Rose giggled and Amy preened.

“I like you. Everyone else groans at that joke. Come along, now.”

Amy led her down belowdecks and into a fairly large room outfitted with hammocks.

“Home sweet home, for you,” she said. “This is the second of two girls rooms. The other is the next room down. The boys are a few rooms aft. Only me and Mels have private quarters. If I heard correctly, the girls left you the hammock by the door since you’re the newbie.”

“Fine by me.”

“Good. Most of the crew is still on shore leave but I think Sally is around here somewhere. I’ll find her and send her here to show you around and get you started.”

“Thanks for giving me this chance,” Rose said as Amy turned to leave. “I really appreciate it.”

“I’m glad you were interested in the opportunity,” Amy responded with a smile. “Hopefully you still appreciate it next week when you’re sore and tired.”

Rose just laughed and Amy took that opportunity to slip back out in the hallway, leaving her on her own. She had just finished stowing her belongings in a similar manner to what she saw others had when a throat clearing alerted her to someone else’s presence.

The woman was a delicate kind of pretty with mousy brown hair and a nice smile and Rose didn’t think she looked like a pirate at all but the ease with which she walked with a sword at her side and the battered sheath it resided in spoke volumes about how appearances could be deceiving.

She introduced herself as Sally Sparrow and took Rose on a tour of the ship. She told anecdotes about the crew as they walked and promised to introduce Rose around when people were back aboard.

Rose shadowed Sally for the rest of the day, learning some basics about what she was going to be expected to do at the beginning.

By the time The Red Lady set sail the next day with her namesake captain at the helm, Rose had a few new friends and a rudimentary understanding of the masts and sails. Her heart thrilled as they glided onto the open water and towards the horizon.

This was a new adventure, a new beginning, and she was more than ready to see where it led her.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

The Doctor sailed into the port of Leadworth as the sun set. He quickly went about the business of securing his boat in a slip and then headed into town. It was too late to do the shopping and restocking that he needed to do while here but it was just about the right time to get a drink.

It had been a while since he’d been in Leadworth so he wandered down a few streets, glad for the heavy weight of his leather jacket as the breeze coming in off the ocean turned cold with nightfall. The glow and muted noise from a tavern called The Rose and Crown drew in and he entered the establishment.

It was busy but not overly crowded and John quickly found a seat on one of the barstools, surveying the place as he waited to order a drink. It was a warm and inviting environment and the patrons seemed to be a mixture of sailors like him who were just passing through and Leadworth locals. That boded well for the quality of his drink if he ever got to order one.

As if his thought summoned the barmaid, the petite brunette in a green dress he’d seen doing most of the work in the tavern so far appeared in front of him.

“What can I get for you?” she asked with a smile.

“Whiskey, if you’ve got it.”

“We’ve got whatever you want,” she answered with a wink. She turned and grabbed a glass from behind her and then reached under the bar for a bottle of whiskey.

“Bit busy tonight for you being the only one working,” he commented as she poured him a measure.

Clara sighed. “My best girl ran off to become a pirate earlier today and I haven’t found anyone to replace her yet.” She eyed him critically as she pushed the glass towards him. “You looking for some temporary work, sailor? You wouldn’t look half bad in a dress and there’s some around here who like that kind of thing. Takes all sorts, you know.”

John knew the smile on his face was more like a grimace and probably twenty different kinds of awkward. “Um, no thanks.”

“Suit yourself.” The impish smile on her face told him that she had mostly been kidding.

When she came back to see if he was ready for another drink, he struck up a conversation again.

“You said your girl ran off to be a pirate?”

Clara’s mouth twisted into a sad smile. “Wasn’t really my girl, just worked here for a bit.”

“Ah.”

“But yeah, she sailed in here on her own, worked for me for a bit to earn some money, and then left with the pirate ship that just sailed out earlier today.”

John mused for a moment. “Was it The Red Lady? The ship?”

Clara pursed her lips, thinking. “Yeah, that sounds right. Pretty sure that’s what Rose said. I may work in a port town but I’m hopeless with ships and anything associated with them.”

John was going to push for a confirmation, fairly sure the woman knew more than she was letting on but someone called for Clara from the other end of the bar. She flashed John one more quick smile and went back to work.

He stared into his drink after she left, mulling over the information he’d gleaned. He had halfway been hoping to catch up to The Red Lady at some point.

Captain Pond was supposed to be one of the best and he wouldn’t have minded spending some time on her crew while he figured out how to best going about getting a ship and crew of his own back.

He tossed the rest of whiskey back and reached across the counter to deposit payment where it wouldn’t be swiped by another patron before the brunette, who he assumed was the tavern owner, could get to it.

John stepped back out into the chilly air and headed back towards his stolen ship. There was no time to lament lost opportunities. He always had been one for making his own destiny the hard way and getting back to a captaincy wasn’t going to be any different.

He stepped onto the wooden slats of the main dock and started scanning for his small ship in the darkness. John was starting to think that he was looking in the wrong area when his eyes alit on a very familiar silhouette bobbing gently on the water.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he said flatly to the empty night.

It was his ship - the one that had been stolen while he was briefly incarcerated in Powell. He’d calculated the odds of ever seeing it again to be astronomically against him but here it was.

Pausing only to make sure the knife in his boot was loose and easy to draw, the Doctor boarded his stolen ship, ready to steal it back if he had to.

He was silent on the familiar deck and quickly determined that there was no one aboard. It looked like whoever had been sailing it had taken good care of her and had moved on recently, judging from the lack of dust on anything. There was no food or personal items lying about either. In fact, the whole ship was near spotless like whoever had occupied her wanted to make her perfect for the next sailor to board.

John smiled as he ran his fingertips over the wall of the sleeping quarters. He’d missed this quaint little ship.

He went to the ship he’d been sailing for the past month and a half and grabbed his bedroll and a few items that he liked to keep close before heading back to his newly reacquired ship to get some sleep.

As he crawled into bed, John knocked his pillow off the bed and then further under the bed when he tried to grope for it without getting up.

Grumbling, he rolled back out of bed and dropped to his hands and knees to look under the bed. His pillow was there along with a couple of hair pins that were definitely not his. Curious to see if the thief had left behind any other clues to their identity, he fetched the lit lantern from the nightstand and let the light shine on the shadowy space beneath the bed.

The only other thing that had been left behind in this forgotten space was a small bronze brooch inset with red glass stones. The lattice work and the stones formed a simple rose. The piece didn’t look particularly valuable but it looked carefully polished, like it had meant something to its owner.

John set it on the nightstand and watched it twinkle in the lantern light for a few seconds before leaning over and dousing the lantern for the night.

#ficandchips #nine x rose #asthewheelwills #burning gold #i wrote this #two chapters in as many days??? #who am i???

[eighteleven87]

Caring is boring.

A piece of beat-up computer paper was long affixed to the side of my ex-girlfriend’s refrigerator, that had a step-by-step guide on how to make money -- real, life-changing money -- off cryptocurrency during the previous bull run that ended just a few weeks prior.

On that piece of paper were details about climbing the proverbial ladder to success, what to do and when, as well as my goals. I would start small, with a couple hundred dollars, turning that into tens of thousands. From there, turning tens of thousands into hundreds, and after that, hundreds of thousands into a million and more.

In addition to that piece of paper, which now likely sits crumpled up and decomposing in a nearby landfill, I spoke to a man who had previous success off the dot-com boom around the turn of the century, and he gave me a detailed preview of where we were heading in the bull run; all I had to do was listen to him, invest my money wisely without touching it, and cash out at the right time. Simple! Not so simple.

I started with a couple hundred dollars, as the paper said. I earned that money from selling off a good, sizable chunk of my wrestling memorabilia, then rolling that money into a single Ethereum token, which was around $350 at the time. I then headed to Twitter and one of the first tweets I saw was promoting a new coin called Unicrypt. Without hesitation, I used that Ethereum to purchase as much Unicrypt as I could, and I ended up with about a third of its overall supply.

I knew what I had soon as I had it. I excitedly told my father I was going to be a multi-millionaire off that coin alone, and had I any idea what I was doing, I in every right would have been. But, I didn’t, and I amn’t.

Because I was so bad at trading, having started at the tail end of the previous bull run in 2017 into 2018, and never experiencing any success more than a couple bucks here or there -- nothing major enough to owe on a tax return -- I didn’t understand the flow of money when it comes to crypto, which is cyclical by design.

First you buy Bitcoin when it bottoms out, holding a ton of that in your portfolio, then the money flows into Ethereum. There are other coins called “alts” you can buy, including Unicrypt, but they are decidedly less proven, and offer a much greater risk-reward ratio. I was burned a dozen or more times over on these alt coins and the gamble that it takes to have faith in them, so mind you, at any rate putting all the money I had just made off my wrestling junk into yet another alt -- one that I didn’t research whatsoever, and just found in a random tweet -- was about the riskiest play I could have made.

But it worked.

Within a period of 48 hours I had taken $350 and turned it into, as an old email tells me, around $15,500, which was more money than I had seen in some time, and having lost my job due to the pandemic, more money than I had made all year. Now I had my five figures and was determined to turn them into six, and seven, and so forth. Just as the piece of paper, and the man I was talking to, each explained.

Here’s where things went south, though this by no stretch of the imagination was the last mistake I stood to make, nor the first. Rather than holding onto all the Unicrypt, or doing any research about it, I sold most of it before that $15,500 could turn into more. I didn’t wait or even check to see if that coin was legitimate or yet another scam I was falling for head-over-heels.

A big part of the reason I needed to sell my wrestling stuff was, in addition to losing my job, I was too impulsive with my trading. Those impulses, combined with the desire not to have the rug pulled out from under me and fifteen grand being a lot of money to me, caused me to sell that which I had too early, holding onto only a small chunk of it. Yet that ‘small chunk’ was still enough to parlay into six figures, several times over.

As Unicrypt proved itself legitimate, one-hundred thousand quickly became two, and two nearly became three. I recall lying in my ex’s bed, staring at my phone as the number kept going up and up and up. I would screen-shot it one minute, and ten minutes later, another screen shot because I’d just made another ten thousand. At one point I told my best friend I had quarter of a million dollars, and I was going to make it far quicker than I’d ever dreamt possible.

“Making it,” of course, requires knowledge, experience, confidence, patience -- a Hell of a lot of patience -- and not caring too much, though I don’t have a singular word for what that is. It’s not being ‘careless’, because you still have to care; perhaps ‘care-less-ness’.

As it stood, I was one move away from millions of dollars. But that was the trap of it. While I sit here and tell myself all I had to do was come to a point of contentment with how much I was making off Unicrypt, then swap it all out for Ethereum, wait about eight months, holding it until I reached another point of contentment with how much that would give me, then transferring it all to my bank, all while taking the risk of betting on one coin after three straight years of losing my ass doing just that, never once feeling the pressure to sell it in a panic or diversify-slash-de-risk my portfolio... I also am able to sit here and realize that ‘one move’ I was away from those millions was, in fact, a series of correct moves and emotion-free decisions I would have had to make in order to realize any of it. 

And, as such, it simply wasn’t to be.

Not for naught, I did make some good money off the trades I did make. I eventually traded my Unicrypt for a number of alts, some of which had I held them, would have given me those millions I sought, others which rest in the same, albeit proverbial, wasteland that piece of paper sits in today. But, overall, I had made enough to provide myself with two key things: My very first place to myself, a spacious one-bedroom apartment which I have paid off until next May; and enough money to live off, if not thrive, during a pandemic that continues to this day.

While there were millions on the table, potentially, I still have come out ahead, and for that I am grateful. I had big plans for that money, but admittedly, no mind or sense to me, or detailed understanding, of how to achieve it, nor would I understand how I’d feel once I had it in my hands. That was my issue. Well, one of them, at least. The biggest issue I can think of, looking back at it all, was that, simply, I cared too damn much. 

Which is why I titled this blog, ‘Caring is Boring’.

I cared too much because I was never in a position to have my own apartment by myself, and I cared too much because I never had any money in my bank account for emergencies or the oft-spoken-about ‘rainy day’. So I made moves I considered necessary at the time, and without ability to predict the future or any rises and falls related to the newfound money I had in my crypto wallet, I still ended up coming out ahead. I still ended up doing pretty good, and right when I needed to.

If you stop caring, things happen. People start gravitating toward you, opportunities you never dreamt possible start opening up. I can’t explain it, though I will try to make some sense of it.

Think of it like you’re watching television. You care about the show you’re watching, but for some reason that makes you sit really close to the screen. You sit there, feet from the TV, intently, with intensity washing over you as every bit and piece of dialogue ropes you in further. Eventually, your eyes will strain, you’ll start shouting at the characters, and you’ll wonder why you didn’t just sit back and relax on your couch instead of gawking at close-range from the edge of your coffee table.

In caring too much, we lose sight of, and touch with, reality. Our focus sharpens to such a degree that everything else around us blurs, and falls by the wayside. Inevitably, that which we care too much about -- be it making life-altering money that would prevent us from needing to go back into the workforce, or a relationship with someone we find special, down to little things like wanting to beat a video game or win a pair of sneakers in one of those online raffles -- escapes us.

Then, and only then, the real over-caring can begin. But only if we allow it.

It’s a ‘fork-in-the-road’ moment if there ever was one. Once financial opportunity is out the window, once your girl walks out the door for the final time, you could either chase it (or her), and take on all there is to follow, or you could do what I do and write down how you’re feeling, trying to gain some grasp of what, the fuck, just happened. And why.

It certainly won’t make you feel any better about having it in your hands and letting it slip away, but it should provide some measure of clarity, along with preventing you from jumping out a dang window which, for me, would probably be the end, as I currently live on the third floor of my building. Short of growing wings and learning to fly, chasing that lost opportunity would prove costly, and I would lose absolutely everything instead of just whatever gains I had not properly realized.

It would be easy to blame one’s self for it. And, frankly, the most logical thing to do, as well. But here lies another opportunity: To separate taking responsibility for what has happened, and feeling too bad about it. If you have to feel bad about it at all, then use that feeling as fuel for whatever fire motivates you, inspires you, and propels you forward. Bear that word in mind, as well: “forward.”

I blame myself for not cashing in on my ultimate opportunity in life, to make literal millions of dollars off the last crypto bull run, and I am currently doing my best to get over it while not being too hard on myself for it, either. I mean, even after all my taxes and all the expenses I have coming up between credit cards and medical bills, I still have more than I did this time last year. 

Fast-forward another three or four weeks on the calendar and that may no longer be true, but here I am today with an updated resume, a will to make something of myself using my skills and talents and college degree, and some money in the bank. More important than that, I have the knowledge of where I went wrong, I know of every misstep and misfire I made over the last eleven months, and I am as best equipped for running it back the next time -- if there is to be a next time.

The same, I could say, for losing everything I have lost over the last year, last decade, last however long. Be it money or other such opportunity, be it a relationship or a friendship, whatever. The ability to look back on things with absolute clarity, pinpointing what I did wrong while -- and this is important -- reminding myself of what I did right, has no tangible value. 

It doesn’t make me rich or find me married to the love of my life. It doesn’t make me feel any better than getting what I want would make me feel. It doesn’t do much of anything; it just is. But, it is necessary in the furthering of who I am, of what I know, of how to act and what to do to eventually, someday, get that which (and whom) I want.

Caring is boring, or shall I amend: Caring too much is boring. If I have achieved anything the last year-over -- surely not those millions of dollars I once forecasted myself to make on that beat-up piece of paper that is now long gone -- then it is knowing isn’t boring. Knowing is something else altogether.