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sylvanfreckles · 3 years

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Poisoned (FebuWhump 07)

Fandom: Detroit: Become Human Summary: Connor, already suffering from an injury occurred in the line of duty, is put in further danger when he’s unknowingly given tainted thirium. Warning: non-graphic vomiting

(This story takes place in the same series as my first DBH fic, Critical Components. You can read that and this fic on AO3)

* * *

Connor settled into the chair at his desk, still cradling his damaged arm carefully. “I'm fine, Hank.”

Hank was already shaking his head and tugging the android first-aid kit out from under his desk. “Kid, you had nearly half a ton of dead weight hanging from that arm half an hour ago. It's not okay.”

“My internal structure is rated to withstand pressure of up to-”

“You heard what the tech said,” Hank interrupted. “All that weight on your...your servos or joints or whatever.”

With a frown, Connor glanced down at his arm. His internal structure would have taken the weight of the falling cargo container easily, had the floor not given way at that moment. So the container caught him on the shoulder, and before he could push himself free some of the trailing cables had twisted around his arm. There had been a horrible, grinding jerk when he'd stopped, just for a moment, essentially holding the ancient shipping container in place with one arm...then the cables had sheared away his exo-plating and broken two of his fingers as the container plunged into the depths of Lake Michigan.

The DPD tech that had responded to their call was supposed to bring replacement plating to patch over what had been torn away, and Connor's healing program would handle the rest. Except replacing the lost thirium, of course.”

“Damn it,” Hank shoved the first aid box away with a grunt. “Must've used it already.”

“There's some in the break room,” Connor offered and started to stand, but his partner held a hand up and nearly pushed him back into his seat.

“I've got it. You just...sit there.”

Connor complied, a bit gratefully, truth be told. He hadn't told Hank or the tech, but the jarring weight of the cargo container's fall had caused microfractures throughout much of his internal structure. Nothing that wouldn't be healed in a few hours...but it still hurt.

“Here we go!” Hank announced. He twisted the lid off the bottle of thirium and handed it to Connor with a flourish. “Tech said you need at least two, but there's a whole case in there if you need more.”

“Thanks, Hank,” Connor said with a sigh. He took a long swallow of the thirium and grimaced a little at the texture. It was too thick, and almost sweet. He pulled the bottle away and stared at the label—there were companies other than Cyberlife trying to provide android necessities these days, and this was a brand he hadn't tried before. Maybe they didn't let an actual android test their product before shipping it. Thirium wasn't something he'd ever enjoyed the taste of before, but this was downright disgusting.

Hank was watching him, eyebrows drawn together in concern. Connor tried to give his partner a reassuring glance and downed the rest of the bottle, not quite able to hide the shudder as the last of the thick, cloying liquid passed his lips. The thirium sat heavily in his internal resevoir, like it was too dense to circulate.

“You want the next one?” Hank asked as he reached for the bottle.

“Not yet,” Connor protested, blocking his partner's hand. “I think...I think this brand is too concentrated.”

“Yeah?” Hank picked the bottle of thirium up and squinted at the information on the label. “Hell, I can't tell what any of this says. We need to thin it out or something?”

Connor's stomach churned, warnings flickering at the edges of his vision. “Not that...simple...” he groaned. Error messages flashed before his eyes, and he wrapped his arms around his stomach and doubled over as his entire body seized up.

“Connor? Hey, kid!” Hank was crouching in front of him now, hands on Connor's shoulders, trying to see into his face. “What is it? What's wrong?”

“Con...tam-taminated,” Connor managed to rasp out.

“Contaminated?” Hank's voice rose even as Connor tried to curl away from him. “What the hell?”

Everything lurched, then twisted, and before Connor could reach his trashcan he was vomiting blue blood down the front of his shirt.

Hank swore again and shoved the trashcan between Connor's bent knees. “We need a tech in here!” he hollered over his shoulder.

There was blood in his mouth, lingering on his tongue as he heaved up another mouthful. With mental effort Connor turned on his analysis software and the thirium's composition flooded across his vision.

Ethylene, propylene, butylene, hexylene...it was antifreeze. The thirium had been spiked with antifreeze, though from the taste and consistency it was more accurate to say a bottle of antifreeze had been contaminated with thirium.

“Thirium,” he gasped, voice cracking on another retch and he bent over to spit a mouthful of blue blood into the trashcan. “It's...”

“We've got it, kid,” Hank said. One of the man's big hands was resting on Connor's shoulders, gently sweeping back and forth. It was oddly comforting, though he couldn't quite explain why. “They're hauling the whole damn case down to the lab. Fuck, this is bad.”

“I told you to take it easy, Connor.” The new voice was from a short, stocky man in the all-too-familiar uniform of the DPD android technicians.

“Thirium's bad, Frank,” Hank replied. “Someone put antifreeze in, ruined the whole batch.”

Francisco Jimenez—Frank to his friends—sucked in a breath through his teeth. “Connor, I need to check your thirium levels, is that all right?”

Connor let out a weary nod and leaned back enough for the tech to push his shirt aside and deactivate the panel over his chest compartment. Frank pulled a handheld monitor off of his belt and attached the delicate cable to a nearly invisible port on the housing for Connor's thirium pump.

The android groaned and Hank let out a weary chuckle. “Careful, Frank. He might blow on you.”

“Eh, I've had worse than some bad thirium on me before,” Frank retorted, winking at Connor. He frowned at the screen from the monitor when it finally beeped and gently pulled the wire free, replacing Connor's chest panel. “Sorry, kid. Thirium levels are down to about seventy percent, which is an easy fix...but it looks like contamination's spread through the rest of your supply.”

“What does that mean?” Hank cut in.

Frank had already stowed the handheld monitor and pulled his phone out instead. “Afraid he needs his entire supply flushed and replaced, and I'm detecting some impaired thirium flow so some of the smaller pumps might be damaged. Might need some lines replaced too, and that's just a little above what we can handle here.”

“Come on, you just need to replace it,” Hank protested. “Just pump the bad stuff out and put good stuff in, right?”

“It's not that simple,” the tech explained with a sigh. “Look, Hank...you ever see what antifreeze does if you put it in your gas tank? That stuff's a lot heavier than thirium. As soon as it entered his circulatory system it started gumming everything up. Connor needs his entire thirium supply replaced, and we just can't do that here—not if we don't know how much of our stock is contaminated. And he needs his lines flushed and cleaned to get that crap out of him; antifreeze doesn't just evaporate like thirium does. I'm sorry, he just needs more repairs than we can handle.”

Connor hadn't realized he'd grabbed Hank's arm until the older man flinched from the sudden pressure. “Not the facility?” he whispered, desperately. “Please?”

He could still remember the feeling from his last repair. Being shut down but conscious, strapped to a table while harsh, unfeeling hands touched his biocomponents. Voices overhead, discussing how expensive he was, how much money they could make off of his blueprints, how much Hank would sell him for. William Adair, the chief technician, boasting about the offer he was going to make Hank, as no mere detective could understand how important this piece of technology was.

Hank had shifted a hand to his shoulder and squeezed gently. “Jericho?” he suggested.

Frank was already shaking his head. “Sorry, kiddo. I get the newsletter, Josh is doing some impressive things over there, but they're not ready for this kind of work. I'll talk to him at the next meeting, maybe we can figure something out for next time.”

“There won't be a next time,” Hank growled. “Whoever did this is gonna wish they'd never been born when I get through with 'em.”

“Yeah, well, save some for the rest of us,” Frank retorted. “Ambulance is on its way, and I've gotta see about recalling two dozen android officers to make sure their emergency supplies aren't tainted. Someone could have done a lot of damage with this stunt.”

Hank snorted. His hand hadn't left Connor's shoulders, gently rubbing back and forth even as Connor hunched over the trashcan again. “Yeah, they already did.”

* * *

I kind of went for a cross between antifreeze poisoning in the human body and what happens if you put antifreeze in your gas tank. I hope it turned out okay.

I don't know, I could go on with a part two with all the body horror of having your veins irrigated at the horrible android hospital while the horrible little man with his hands in your chest cavity keeps talking about how much he'd like to take your organs out, just for a little while, to see if he can learn anything. Let me know if you’d like that.

#febuwhump #febuwhumpday7 #poisoning #detroit become human #dbh #fic #fanfic #connor #hank anderson #connor whump #antifreeze poisoning #android headcanon #connor gets poisoned #nongraphic vomiting #hurt no comfort

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themandylion · 3 years

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Fandom: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, Red Robin (Comics) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Tim Drake, Prudence Wood, Bruce Wayne Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence Summary: When Jack Drake died, Tim appended a Wayne to his name, moved into the manor, and no one there had any reason whatsoever to examine his family tree.

—

The first time Tim did it on purpose was while he was still following Batman and Robin. He'd gotten some really excellent shots of Robin silhouetted against a rare clear patch of sky and his mind wasn't on his surroundings. When he turned to go, he found the mouth of the alley blocked by a group of thugs, more than eager to relieve him of his fancy camera.

They were all bigger than him, and armed to boot. There was no point in trying to fight or cry for help. He was cornered, they all knew it, so Tim did what his dad always told him to do if he ever found himself in a situation like that.

He screamed.

Tim didn't stick around to see the fallout, after. Just ran home and hid under the covers on his bed and waited for morning, his heart pounding his chest. It was scary and exhilarating at the same time, something he both did and didn't want to do ever again. In the moment, he swore to himself he was done following heroes, that he'd never do it again.

He was out again a fortnight later, though he now carried a collapsible baton with him, just in case.

—

Batman didn't want metas in Gotham, didn't think them fair or sporting. He liked things he could measure, could understand, could predict all the outcomes of.

Tim respected that and, even more importantly, respected Batman. Once he was Robin, he used his hands, his legs, his feet, his mind, his staff—sometimes all of them together. The only time he used his voice was to cajole or taunt or query.

He didn't scream, even when he wanted to. Batman wouldn't like it, wouldn't want a Robin who could do that, and Tim—

Tim needed Robin maybe just as much as Batman did, sometimes.

—

When Jack Drake died, Tim picked the lock on his father's safe and replaced the will there with a carefully altered one. He didn't think he was really ready to be Bruce Wayne's son, but he also wasn't ready to stop being Robin, and there were things that would need adjusting if he wanted that to happen.

He was pretty sure his cousin would understand. After all, she'd seen Bruce at the funeral, had shared a long, meaningful look with Tim before ducking out early.

Less than a month later, Tim appended a Wayne to his name, moved into the manor, and no one there had any reason whatsoever to examine his family tree.

—

The second time Tim did it on purpose, it was too late to worry about losing Robin, maybe even too late to worry about upsetting Bruce. He didn't have a name anymore, at least not one beyond 'Tim Drake-Wayne,' and he wasn't sure if he even had all of that, now.

What he did have was another thug, another tight situation. No escape, no one to call for help. But he wasn't Robin and he wasn't in Gotham, so Batman's rules didn't apply. And besides all that, it wasn't just his own life on the line this time.

Widower's blades flashed, Z and Owens fell, and Tim screamed.

Riding back to the hotel, after, he glanced at Pru in the passenger seat. She was clutching her side, the wound she received before she could take out the stunned assassin still oozing a slow trickle of blood.

"I'd appreciate it," he said, "if you didn't mention what happened back there to anyone." He didn't say that he meant to Ra's, but then he didn't really think he needed to.

"Don't know why you use that bloody stick with a voice like that," she grumbled.

"Batman doesn't like his people to have anything… abnormal about them."

She snorted and shook her head. "If I was working for someone who didn't appreciate my natural talents for what they are, I'd find a new boss."

"Yeah? And how's that working out for you?" he asked, thinking of her partners they left in cave miles behind them, victims of a battle they didn't even know they were fighting. He wondered if Ra's even knew any of their names, or if they were all just faceless, disposable lackies to him.

"Found you, didn't I?"

—

They found Lucius's youngest daughter in the hotel room when they arrived, there at her father's request to drag Tim back to Gotham. She was obviously completely ignorant of just what the Wayne family got up to after hours, despite her father being all too aware.

He and Pru passed her back and forth as they battled the ninja Ra's sent swarming into the room, and while Tam Fox was far from unskilled, it was all too clear that she was way over her head. With people like Lucius to look up to, it was no wonder Bruce's parenting tactics were far from optimal.

It was enough to make a guy think.

—

"Hey, it's me. I know it's been a while, but I was wondering—is your offer still open? I've got some stuff to take care of in Gotham, but after that… I think I'm ready."

—

They didn't manage to leave Ra's al Ghul behind.

Tim found himself cornered in an office. A window at his back, a sword-wielding psychopath coming at him and—

He was back in Gotham, but no longer Robin. He wasn't sure if he was even part of Batman's brood anymore, if he even wanted to be.

Thoughts were whizzing through his mind and there were things he wanted, things he wished for—

But wishes never got anyone anywhere, and Bruce wasn't back quite yet. Not to mention the man currently running around the city as Batman had slightly different priorities than his predecessor.

Ra's was coming at him, he had to make a split-second decision, and while he might have chosen differently just a few short months ago, he knew what he had to do now.

Tim screamed.

—

Bruce came back.

—

Bruce came back, completely ignorant of everything Tim went through in order to make it happen. He came back and right away started asking for more—more work, more lies, more time. More years of Tim's life.

"I don't know if I'm ready to be back for good just yet. There are some things I need to see to, and it would be easier to do that while I'm not exactly back yet, officially." Bruce said it like it was the most logical thing ever.

It wasn't. It didn't make sense at all. Between Hush pretending to be him out of the mask and Dick continuing his legacy in it, it wasn't like Bruce had ever actually been gone. Except to the people that mattered most. To his friends and colleagues. His family.

"You do you," Tim said, pulling off Red Robin's cowl and handing it to him. "But you'll have to do it without me."

"What?"

"I realized some things, while you were gone," Tim explained as he began pulling off the rest of the suit. "Things about myself. Things about you."

"You're quitting?"

"Yes. No. Maybe?" Tim shrugged as he pulled off the last piece, then began replacing it all with regular, comfortable clothes. His clothes. "All this time I followed your rules, thinking that made me something stronger, something better. Took you being gone for me to realize that all it was really doing was holding me back."

"Tim… I don't understand."

"There comes a time when every bird has to fly free of the nest and find its own song." Tim slipped on his shoes, picked up his pack. "I'll see you around, Bruce."

—

Dinah met him at the manor gates with a fast bike and an extra helmet.

This time, he didn't look back.

#Tim Drake #canon divergence AU #themandylion writes #my fic

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fangzeronos · 4 years

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Zuki Week Day 2: Training Session

Suki sighed as she walked down the hallway, clad in her usual training gear. Her fan was strapped to her hip, shield on her arm and katana on her back as she made her way to the pavilion. She hoped to get some time to train today, since being Zuko’s main bodyguard was eating her days away with prepping the council, reading every document, letter, and piece of mail that came through before it got to Zuko, even tasting everything that he was to eat to make sure it wasn’t poisoned.

“Sometimes I miss Kyoshi Island,” she mumbled, rubbing her forehead softly. “It was never this hot. Spirits…” She turned the last corner to head into the training pavilion, hearing the sound of fire cutting through the air. Blinking, Suki was fixated on a shirtless Zuko, his hair down as he flipped and twisted, fire erupting from his hands and feet.

The Fire Lord slid to a stop, smoke rising from under his feet as he tamped out the small embers that were left behind. He looked over and smiled. “Good morning, Suki,” he said. “I’ll be out of your hair in a minute. I’m just about done.”

Suki nodded, unable to form words as she watched the sweat slide across Zuko’s back and chest, his muscles rippling under his skin. She licked her lips absently, thankful his back was to her. She set her equipment down, chastising herself.

“What the hell are you doing, Suki? Your own personal fantasies cannot get in your head in the middle of the morning. Especially not when he looks so fucking HOT after a workout. No! Bad Suki! That is Ty Lee style thinking and you cannot have it!” Shaking her head, Suki didn’t realize Zuko was talking to her until she turned. “Sorry, what? I was zoned out on some reports from yesterday,” she lied with a smile.

“I was asking if you wanted a sparring partner. I know the Warriors always train together, and I thought you’d like a partner,” Zuko said. “First meeting isn’t until after lunch, and anything with the Council Piandao can handle.”

Suki blinked. “Um…yeah. Yeah, that’d be great,” she said. “No firebending. Weapons only.”

“Of course. My bending’s an unfair advantage,” Zuko said, walking over to the other bench and taking out a leather wrapped item. Undoing the wrappings, the scarred Fire Lord took out his broadsword, twisting them and splitting it into two.

“I didn’t know they could do that,” Suki said, strapping her shield back on and grabbing her katana as she tucked her fan into her hip.

“People are always surprised,” Zuko said, making his way to the center of the pavilion.

Suki walked forward and met Zuko in the middle, her popping her shield open and drawing her katana. “What are the stakes?”

Zuko was silent for a long while. “If you pin me, sword to the throat, the Warriors get a two-week vacation back to Kyoshi Island.”

Suki nodded. “We’d really love that. Nam-Kyu’s missing her sister, Tam wants to just visit her parents, and I wouldn’t mind seeing my mom again,” she said with a smile. “We’ll have to make sure the palace guards can keep up with you like we can. What about if you pin me?” Something in the pit of her stomach told her she wouldn’t like his answer.

“If I pin you…” Zuko said, his eyebrows crinkling as he thought. “Hmm…alright. If I pin you, you have to have dinner with me. No armor, no makeup, no guards, just us.”

Suki felt her heart swell, her pulse pounding in her ears as Zuko’s words wormed into her ears. “That’s all you want? A dinner date?”

Zuko nodded. “Yes. That’s it.”

Suki raised an eyebrow. “Alright. I’ll agree to that, but you know I won’t lose, right?” she asked. “Trained from the time I could walk?”

“And you forget I was trained the same amount of time by Piandao,” Zuko said. He raised his swords, dropping into his stance and smirking. “At your move, Captain.”

Suki sighed, her shield in front of her as she watched Zuko. She started moving to follow him, stepping in time with him for a few seconds before she lunged, hearing Zuko jump back to avoid her swing, his swords clashing with hers. She twisted, avoiding a strike as the blade bounced off of her shield, knocking her backwards. “Good. I didn’t think you could keep up with that.”

“I spent years keeping up with Ty Lee. Trust me, I’m fast,” Zuko said, smirking as he jumped forward, dodging Suki’s swing and twisting, smacking her thigh with the flat of his sword, spinning around behind her. “Cut tendon.”

“Kill stroke,” Suki said with a grin. “Very good, Fire Lord. Now, try this.” She dropped back before rushing forward, dodging Zuko’s swings as she hit him in the chest with the flat of her katana, spinning behind him and holding her sword down. “Cut to the heart. Instant bleed out.”

“Kill stroke,” Zuko smirked. “Very good, Captain.” He turned and faced Suki, recombining his swords into one blade as he did. “Still haven’t won yet, Suki.”

“Neither have you,” Suki said.

The two rushed each other again, swords clashing and breaking the silence. Zuko would dodge a swing, parry another before going on the offensive. Suki followed every movement of Zuko’s, dodging and parrying when she needed to before returning the attack. She didn’t realize he’d already pinned her weakness, and at this point was just toying with her.

Zuko decided it was time to end the spar. He dodged a swing, his sword bouncing off of Suki’s shield before he spun around and smacked her in the back of the legs with the flat of the blade, dropping onto her back and grabbing her hair before wrenching her head back, his sword at her throat. He panted heavily, feeling Suki’s chest rising and falling rapidly as she felt the cold steel against her throat.

“I win,” Zuko panted into her ear, his voice low. The tone in his voice sent a cold shiver down Suki’s spine and heat directly into her core, shuddering under Zuko’s touch.

Suki’s sword hit the ground, and she blinked slowly, licking her lips and tasting sweat as she tried to look back at Zuko. “Fair and square,” she said, a tinge of disappointment in her voice. She felt Zuko’s hand release her hair, feeling his weight shift off of her back and she pushed herself to her knees, not trusting her feet. “How did you do it?”

Zuko knelt beside Suki, smiling. “You shift your weight on your front foot when you go to strike, and you overcorrect your backfoot on the downward swing. I took the opportunity to see the shift, dodge the strike and get the win.”

“Shit,” Suki sighed, pushing her hair out of her eyes. “I was really hoping to get to go back home for a few days…” She looked away, hoping Zuko didn’t see the anguish in her eyes about losing to another Fire Nation royal. She fought against feeling tears in her eyes, knowing she needed to be stronger then to weep about losing.

Zuko stood up, holding his hand out to help Suki up. Once she took his hand and Zuko pulled her to her feet, the Fire Lord tilted his head softly. “Suki. You’re not looking at me.”

“I’m embarrassed,” Suki said softly, picking her sword up and heading to her things, setting the blade down and grabbing her towel to wipe her face and neck. “I’m damned embarrassed, Zuko.”

“Why?” Zuko asked, grabbing his own towel and running it over his face and neck. “You fought hard. You almost had me a couple of times.”

“I’m embarrassed because I lost to you and Azula. There was so much on the line for the Warriors and I let them down.”

Zuko sighed softly, realizing what happened. He looked away, biting his lip. He swallowed the lump in his throat, turning to face Suki. “Get the Warriors ready to go. I’ll have my airship prepped and ready to take you all home tomorrow morning,” he said, looking at Suki who was still facing away from him.

“What?” Suki asked, turning and staring at Zuko. “But I lost. Zuko—”

“Suki. If going home means that much to you, I won’t stop you girls,” Zuko said. “You’ve been with me almost two years, and none of you have ever asked for time off or time to go home. Take the girls, go home. I’m sure Ty Lee can keep things here.”

Suki smiled, rushing over and hugging Zuko. “Thank you,” she whispered, tears falling down her cheeks. She shook with silent sobs, the thought of cool weather, the oceans breeze, and the feel of her home under her bare feet sending a flood of emotions through her. “When I get back, I promise that dinner date. You did win fair and square.”

Zuko smiled, hugging Suki back and giving her a squeeze. “I’m going to hold you to that.”

“Hey, where the hell have you two been!?” a voice yelled, the two pulling apart and looking over at the same time as Ty Lee ran up in full armor and makeup.

“Sorry, Ty Lee. We were training,” Suki said.

“Yeah, looked more like the start of a makeout to me,” Ty Lee smirked. “We’ve got issues in the Council. We need you guys twenty minutes ago.”

“We’ll be there quick as we can,” Suki said. “You and Piandao hold the fort until we get there.”

Zuko nodded. “Go.” They watched Ty Lee take off, and he sighed, looking at Suki. “Well, this won’t help the rumor mill.”

“Fuck them,” Suki said with a smile.

#ZukiWeek2020 #Zuko #Suki #Zuki #Avatar The Last Airbender

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bike42 · 3 years

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IAT 6/22 thru 6/26/2021

Seems like a quick turnaround as I accompanied Lynn and Kent earlier this month to make up the two days they’d missed.

We were scheduled to meet Tuesday morning at 9am at the car drop site, but because of an easy drive and long daylight, most of us arrived at 8:30am, even with a coffee stop. We redirected Dan and Tam to meet us at the start.

We continued walking the County Highway Y Connecting Route (CR) that we’d started last time. These next 100+ miles are mostly CR with a few trail segments scattered in. It’s all part of the deal, but it can be a grind.

We’d planned today so we’d walk about 10ish miles, get to the cars, then drive 3 miles to a lunch stop. We set off fast, and it was great to turn off Hwy Y onto lesser traveled country roads. We had abundant sunshine and cooler temperatures - just in the sixties, so a perfect summer day!

It took us just over 3 hours to knock off the eleven miles. A grueling pace, but we always start off fast when we’re back together again, and there was also motivation to just “get er done” and get to lunch!

Dan had researched and found “Jen and Tonics” in a little village called Franzen on Hwy 49 - and it did not disappoint! It was a classic Wisconsin Northwoods bar with a small grill and French fry machine. We were greeted by Jen’s mom, who got us drinks but then had to leave to go to a doctor’s appointment, leaving just Jen to tend bar and cook. About a dozen regulars came and went during our time there, and she was also preparing “to go” orders. She was busy, but not stressed or rushed. She kept up a fun banter with the regulars, telling one guy “shut up and give me your money!” She was all businesslike when taking our orders, yet even though she had an extensive menu, special orders from our vegetarian seemed to throw her for a loop! Most of us had bacon cheeseburgers and they were awesome. Unfortunately, Jen was too busy for us to ask about the “Tonic” portion of the bar’s name (we wondered if that was a partner, or just a clever play on words?).

After lunch, we went back to pick up the two vehicles from the start and drop them seven miles down the road at the Lions Camp. Our after-lunch pace was a bit slower, but the perfect day continued. We arrived back at Lions camp about 5 pm - 18.5 miles for the day and thoroughly exhausted!

Gary decided to “commute” from home for this trip - his wife Rose had a fairly major surgery two weeks ago. So, he headed home and the six of us piled into Kent’s SUV for a shuttle back to our vehicles.

We’re staying 3 nights at “Country Mission Farm” which is an old farmstead near Mosinee owned by Regan and Ann Pourchot. Ann is Tam’s sister’s ex-husband’s sister. They hiked with us for the day last October, and we found them to be likeminded adventurous souls. Their “farm” is a bit out of the way, but it was worth the extra miles to see them, and experience the operation that they’ve established! They have a Christmas Tree farm, and have renovated an old farmhouse that is just down the road from their house. They rent out the “farm” through VRBO, and are really invested in providing a great relaxing country experience for their guests. They had chickens, guinea hens, a white domestic turkey named “Lola,” and juvenile goats named “Linus and Lucy.” They’re even working on creating a pond for swimming / paddling!

Tam and Dan made a great dinner of salad, BLTs and grilled cheese appetizers. It was nice to have Ann and Regan join us for dinner, but we missed Gary. Regan and his sons did the Northern Tier bike ride with his sons in 2011, so it was fun to rehash some of those stories.

Wednesday morning, I awoke in time to do a little yoga session on the porch before others were awake. We fell into our easy breakfast routine and were out the door to meet Gary at our assigned meeting point, which was today’s end point (a sand and gravel plot on Highway 161 and Trout Creek Road). We left Gary and Kent’s car there, and all 7 of us shuttled back to the Lion’s Camp in the Knickmeier’s vehicle.

We set off about 8:45am, roughly 5 miles of CR, 5 miles of trail, then another 5 of CR. It was sunny, warm and humid. Most of us agreed that we needed to take more breaks than we did yesterday, and that made the day easier on my body for sure! The CR’s went over many small trout streams (Little Wolf River and Tomorrow River), and we found that the guard rails made great spots to sit, enjoy the river, and have a snack.

There were few cars on the small roads we were walking and we were grateful for that. We started noticing the various types of waves we get from the drivers (and sometimes passengers) when we wave to the oncoming vehicles. Sometimes, its just a cool nod of the head, sometimes just one finger, often all 4 fingers (like the thumb is holding the wheel), sometimes its an actual wave (hand off the steering wheel) and my favorite, was a peace sign. All in all, the oncoming drivers were courteous and moved way over, or slowed way down when there was oncoming traffic.

Today’s segments were New Hope – Iola Ski Hill. We were so happy to be on the trail again – it felt so soft after 25 miles of pavement!! The first piece of New Hope was short lived, then we were back on the road for about a half mile, then back on the trail, then a road detour around a piece that was reportedly flooded. It was enough variety that it was enjoyable.

We entered the Iola Ski area and it was reminiscent of the several other cross-county ski areas we’d been through – lots of hills and trail intersections. This one had some “trail art,” which honestly, I found it too creepy to photograph (stick people in various poses and “snakes” made out of drain tile with wooded forked tongues). The part that made the Iola Ski Area unique was their 100+ year history as a ski club specifically for ski jumping! We had lunch on a nice patio of the Iola Winter Sports Club, and looked at a few of the ski jumps at the base there, but we didn’t notice the massive jump until we were walking away from the area and looked back – it loomed over the trees!!

Also noteworthy was we hit the official 500-mile marker of the IAT (west to east)! We made up words to “500 miles” and sang that for a while, but didn’t record it.

We went up and over a huge ridge, and over a few more trout streams, but the rest of the road walk was quick and we were motivated to power through. The guys were up ahead, and the ladies lagged behind. We saw a few deer, chatted with a guy mowing the parking for the trout stream and were greeted by a lady enjoying the solitude of the day from her porch. We wrapped up and were back at the farm by 4pm.

Another great dinner as Kent and Lynn brought pulled pork and potatoes (their specialty, which is funny due to Lynn being a vegetarian), served with a great salad and chocolate for dessert. Regan joined us for dinner, and shared plans to renovate the old barn into an event center – they sure are creative people!

After dinner I went outside and sat near the chicken coop to see if I could get Lola to approach me and let me pet her. Just as Ann said, she walked over and leaned into me. I never thought I’d be petting a turkey in my life! Up close, she was really interesting. She had this rope like thing hanging on her check (Ann said that’s a beard!?), and the colors and textures on her head were really beautiful. Up close, her beak and the size of her talons were a little frightening to me, but she leaned into me and closed her eyes and sort of purred.

I went into Linus and Lucy’s pen – they have a smart double door entrance via the barn so they don’t get out! They’ve been socialized so well and are so sweet to be around – watching them play just made me so happy. Beautiful night on the farm.

Thursday morning, a thunderstorm came through while we were having breakfast - the perfect time for rain to come! We headed out at 7:30 AM in just a light rain. I wasn’t paying attention to the driver and we took a little detour through downtown Stevens Point, but we still made it to the rendezvous point with Gary just after 8:30 AM. We dropped two cars at the finish and Dan drove the seven of us to the start. It wasn’t raining, so we had the quandary of rain gear versus no rain gear; most of us went without. We headed up the highway and of course then the rain started so we scrambled for ponchos, rain gear and umbrellas. The rain was light and only lasted a few minutes but it made things very humid and layers were coming off as we hit the two-mile point. We seemed to be lacking the nice breeze we’d had the previous days, but we were primarily walking on marvelous small roads winding through wooded areas.

The connecting road continued through farm area and woodlands and when it was open, we were relieved to find a breeze. Some fields were alfalfa but most were corn and beans. Despite the drought the fields looked really healthy but we also noticed that nearly every field had an irrigation system installed, and it was interesting looking at the various models of those close up.

We climbed a few hills and went past an area of cottage area around Rollofson Lake, which seemed odd after all the farms. About 5 miles in we stopped along Peterson creek one of many trout fishing creeks that we’ve crossed over the past few days. We sat on the bridge and ate our lunch and then we continued walking. The group was tired and we splintered off into pairs however Gary continued to walk ahead at a really fast pace like he always does.

We went through some really awesome beautiful wooded areas and then again came out to some farmland. We were surprised to see a dam or Peterson Creek which made a little pond right on the farm - seemed very unusual (established prior to the DNR I’m guessing!). The cows were gathered under trees seeking shade, probably knowing that it’s going to rain again. One cow stood up and did a perfect down dog which he held for a few breaths and then proceeded to do the yoga pose “cat.” I waited for her to do the cow pose but she didn’t do it.

We turned onto a busier road and Jeff and I were in the back we were surprised to see a dog come out from behind a barn barking at us and running onto the road. It was the closest a dog has come to us on the whole trail and we were a little bit frightened by it. Jeff continued to yell at the dog to go home and his deepest voice, while I reached for the mace spray in his backpack. We were all glad we didn’t have to use the mace.

About 10 miles and we finally got to the trail portion of today’s hike. Before going into the woods, we sat on the road and had another snack and the guys had a nap. It was awesome to get back into the woods although it was hot and humid with no breeze. The soil was sandy and soft to walk on. It felt so good after 10 miles of walking on the road. The spring flowers were done, and other things were just beginning to bloom. Most impressive were the ferns!

We were on the skunk and foster Lakes and Segment which actually went through past several lakes: Skunk, Mud, Foster and Grenlie Lakes. It was a roundabout segment and soon we were back out on a little bit of CR until we entered the forest again and the Ice Age trails Farmington drumlins section. I don’t know if we saw any drumlins there but I do know we saw a massive ant hills bigger than some of the erratic rocks!

The segment skirted several farm fields but it was still better than walking on the road. Much of the second half of that segment was walking over an area that had been logged years ago but still left with a lot of scrap which was just starting to grow over and be a little bit less ugly.

I retired my old “transition” sunglasses that had been my adventure staple for the past 15 years. They got to the point where they would no longer get dark in the sun and they also had a broken piece that I would hold together with a croakie. I bought a new pair of glasses have good dark UV blocking lenses without the progressive gradients (bi and tri focals that my 60-year-old eyes need for every day functioning). I left them back in the cabin today because I thought they would be too dark for the grey day. So, I was wearing my glasses with transition and progressive lenses today. They work fine on the road and are great when I’m reading the map or my phone, but the bi/tri-focal lenses are a little challenging for on the trail - walk you have to learn to hold your head just right or you stumble over the roots and rocks, so consequently I slowed my pace, which allowed me to absorb the beauty around me anyway!

One of the coolest parts about being in the woods alone is the sound of the birds. I can’t identify what kind they are, but the variety of songs and calls is so soothing. On this segment though, we were getting close to Highway 10, which made for a constant din of highway noise. Not only that, but a train track runs parallel to Highway 10 and seemed to have a lot of activity given the noise of the train whistle. You lose some of the “middle of nowhere” mojo with that kind of sound.

We walked along the edge of a farm, and past a lot of unique deer hunting shacks before we were out on the road again. We passed a large dairy farm where the cows were in their stanchions, but one was standing on her back legs, very interested it us – it looked so funny. We crossed the railroad track and also ran across the very busy and fast four-lane Highway 10, which is the major thorough fare between Stevens point and Appleton. Once safely across the highway, we entered the Waupaca River segment where we climbed a steep hill and found an awesome old cabin where hikers could spend the night. About another mile down wonderful packed sand trail we came along the Walpaca River and shortly after that the side trail the parking lot. It dawned on me that one thing this group hasn’t yet done is swim in the middle of the day – that would have been a perfect spot, but our group is pretty mission focused and I’m glad just to get regular breaks – a swimming break might have pushed it too far, but it was hot and humid and that river looked like paradise.

Back to the farm, we showered relaxed and put together enough leftovers to make another awesome dinner. As we were cleaning up after dinner, Tam and I noticed that the sky to the south had turned a spectacular orange color. We went outside and watched the clouds move with spectacular pink purple orange colors. The weather radar showed a storm traveling through a band from Stevens point to Waupaca, so it cut just south of us. Beautiful night and Reagan had already put all the animals to bed. We went back in and Jeff and I, and Tam and Dan had a little dance party in the kitchen, practicing the West Coast Swing that we’re working on in our Friday night dance classes. Ann came by and we chatted a bit and said our goodbyes to her. We talked about playing a game but honestly no one had the energy for it. We made a plan for tomorrow’s route and everyone drifted off to read their books and go to bed.

Friday morning, I was up at 6 AM hoping to get a little yoga in before the routine of the morning. While it felt great to stretch, by the time we were hiking at 9 AM I was still really stiff.

Helen Reagan’s place is 40 minutes from where we’re hiking now and they had another reservation for the weekend so we packed up this morning and will stay one night at the Ramada inn in Waupaca for the segment. We had breakfast and we’re packed up and leaving the farm, with a final goodbye to Linus and Lucy before 7:30 AM. By 8:15 AM. Lola and the chickens were still cooped up in the hen house (Regan said if they get them out too early, they still have a chance of being lost to foxes and owls). We rendezvoused with Gary at the spot where we’ll end today. We left two cars there and then drove to the start. I had a Google maps breakdown and accidently lead us to our halfway point, so we had a longer drive than expected but got to see some of the route. Just before 9am we arrived back at the Waupaca River segment and hiked the final half mile of that before punching back out to the road for an easy CR hike to the next segment.

It was about 65° when we started, but very humid it was also a little foggy. We were glad for the cloud cover and hoped that our breeze was going to pick up again today. We walked about 2 miles on the road and then turned into a really cool strip between two farm fields that were parallel to Highway 54. What a relief it was to us to not have to walk on Highway 54 and to be able enjoy the farm fields from that little vantage point of the strip of land. It looked like tobacco growing on one side, and a variety of vegetables for a nearby “farm market” on the other side. There were raspberry bushes, as we’d seen along the trail for the past few days, but these had some ripe berries and I grabbed a few as I walked along – yum.

We turned right and then crossed Highway 54 and there we found a detour sign saying the trail was closed because of water up ahead. We’d seen the “high water” alert on the Guthook app but we didn’t really understand that the trail was going to be closed. Disappointed, we turned and walked up Highway 54 which was kind of nasty and had to do a detour around that piece of the Hartman Creek segment. It was an unexpected 2.5-mile road walk, which also added mileage to the end of the day as we still had to hike to where we’d left the cars. Moods were down, but Lynn and I dragged back and got lost in conversation which always makes the grind bearable. We had a snack and restarted the Hartman Creek Segment. While it goes through Hartman Creek State Park, we saw little of the park facilities, and didn’t see a creek! The segment ended up being through beautiful pines with an occasional oak tree, with a sandy but not too soft trail which was just a blessing on our feet. While it was humid, it didn’t feel too hot – the shade from the trees was just right, the air felt like it had so much oxygen and the singing of the birds - once again we were walking in paradise.

About 10 miles in, we stopped at what was a “P” on the map, but was actually just a gravel forest road. We spread out and had lunch / naps there. Jeff and Dan propped themselves up against the bank, in what we later discovered was probably a tick hangout (they’re both tick magnets anyway).

We travelled through the Emmons Creek segment as a dispersed, quiet, tired bunch. It continued to be beautiful primarily pine forest, with occasional openings to oak savannahs and prairies with flowers just starting to emerge. After that, we still had three more miles to slog along the CR. I changed into my walking shoes and stashed my sandy low hikers in my pack – that gave me a fresh feeling in my lower extremities and Tam and I powered through the last three miles, talking about books we’re reading, the time went quickly. Gary, of course, finished up first, changed into dry clean clothes, and drove back to check on us and offered to carry our packs to the finish. We all encouraged him to leave, but he wouldn’t do that until we all arrived at the finish. Its just the kind of guy he is.

Gary left for home, we piled into Kent’s car and he shuttled us back to the start. Then a quick 10-minute drive to the Ramada Inn in Waupaca, where we were glad to grab showers, pick a few more ticks off our packs, get a cold beer from the cooler and relax.

We gathered at 6pm and headed to what we’d heard was the best gathering spot for dinner – Clearwater Harbor on the Waupaca chain of lakes. We got a great table on the deck, overlooking the docked pontoon boats and watching the bar crowd. We had a good meal, and hung around for the entertainment to start at 8pm, Brad, a one-man show. Brad was a great cover artist and we had a nice exchange going with him from our table next to the stage. We also had a view of the TV and watched the Brewers win in extra innings, and the Bucks get off to a great lead in their playoff game. We could have stayed all night, with the great music and people watching, but we left about 9pm, the practical thing to do.

The forecast called for 90% chance of rain all day Saturday, so it wasn’t a disappointment to wake up to a rainy day - the kind of day where it is just going to rain all day.

The Ramada had a breakfast, but we had our bananas, Greek Gods yogurt and homemade granola so we ate that in our room while we watched the local news. The news was out of Green Bay, which was surprising, and I didn’t expect that until we got to the end of the IAT. But it must be closer than Wausau, the next biggest media market.

The hotel coffee was awful, so I took to Google to find a coffee shop in Waupaca, and found a Dunkin’ Donuts a quarter mile away … otherwise it was going to be Cafe Karuba at Kwik Trip! I took a load down to our car and did my coffee run (drive) in a steady rain. Jeff was waiting in the portico with the rest of our stuff when I returned, and our fellow adventurers were there loading their cars as well.

We drove down Highway 22 through Wild Rose and scoped out a few spots there to come back to for lunch, and met Gary at what would be the start to the Deerfield segment. The rain remained steady and we caravanned two vehicles to our starting point at County Highway AA and 15th Avenue.

We donned various rain costumes and settled in for a hike in the rain. It was a fairly steady rain, and around 70 degrees, so I struggle with being too hot which can be worse to me than being damp! I had on my low hikers and added my low gaiters (which I’d normally not wear on CR), hoping they’d keep my feet dry (they didn’t). I wore my backpacking poncho which isn’t completely waterproof, but good enough. With that and my pack cover, my pack stayed dry. I also carried an umbrella that’s normally in my car; I’d only use an umbrella on CR as I always use hiking poles on the trail, but rarely on the road. Also, on the trail, an umbrella gets hung up on trees. But with 11 miles of CR today, it was great to be able to use it. Jeff started out in rain jacket and rain pants, but got too hot with the pants so they had to come off! He was also using an umbrella, but without a poncho to deflect the water, he had water pooling inside his pack cover, which dripped down to his shorts then! However, he was the only person with dry feet at the end of the hike so he had that going for himself!

We walked about 4 hours to do the 11-mile CR. It was the longest I’d ever hiked without taking a break or having a snack, but they were buried too far in my pack under too many layers of rain protection – and it never really stopped raining, it’d just rain heavier at times. Traffic was ok, and we walked a lot along wooded roads – some with lots for sale, but I didn’t see an attraction to the lots unless you want to live like a hermit in the woods.

My feet were wet, but it was a cushy kind of wet, not a blister forming wet. Of course then, Jeff came up with the “walking home in soggy old shoes” line from Jim Croce’s “Workin’ at the Car Wash Blues.” We worked hard to come up with other lines from that song, and we came up with some, but couldn’t get the melody. As we’ve done with other adventures, we can come up with lines to other songs on his “Greatest Hits” album, but we only have the tune to “Bad, Bad Leroy Brown,” when we are not singing along to the actual songs with Jim. It sure kept our minds occupied as we were slogging along (in soggy boots).

Our plan was to hike the 11 CR, drive back to Wild Rose for lunch, then hike the 3.7-mile Deerfield segment. With a high misery factor (7 on my scale), the group voted to bag it for the day. We shuttled back to get the vehicles at the start, then on to Wild Rose for lunch. I’d looked at the Pioneer Pub online and thought that looked great. However, when we got to town, that looked super busy. No waiting at the Chatterbox, but perhaps there was a reason for that? We were the only patrons in there, which should be a bad sign that one should pay attention to. The only staff person, RC, tried hard, but he had a creep factor that I couldn’t see beyond. We’d already ordered by the time I saw the state of the bathroom and part of the kitchen. Even though we were warm and dry, my misery factor remained high and I mainly just ate my French fries as my sandwich was horrible.

It was just over an hour back home from there. We detoured to the Dairy Queen in Wautoma on our way home (made up for the yucky lunch).

All in all, it was a great five day stretch on the IAT. We hiked over 74 miles in 5 days, and the long days pushed us mentally and physically. While we aren’t able to train for the altitude that we’ll encounter hiking Kilimanjaro in September, the mental toughness we’re developing on days like today is what will make us successful!

#IAT KiliOrBust

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cherrynika · 3 years

Text

It’s nice to see Alex again though he usually avoids former partners. It’s simply been long enough since their breakup that no trace of awkwardness is felt, simply a sense of familiarity. He’s more or less the same, having decided to keep the facial hair Jipyeong had always hated. It’s as sleazy-looking in real life as it is in the instagram photos he pretends he’s not scrolling through. That’s a pointless exercise that makes him wonder if he’d be more successful if he had chosen to stay in San Francisco, or if he’d still be the same person but with shittier fashion sense. It does, however, answer many questions that he’d like to ask (have you neutered Tim Tam yet, yes), prefer not to (are you married, 2 girlfriends and what was probably a sugar baby later, the answer is no), and never wondered (Crossfit is indeed life-changing; hot yoga gives you 10 more IQ points!).

Alex is cordial and professional at the Sandbox, offering Jipyeong nothing but a handshake before they sit down to grade the baby startups. But he lingers conspicuously in the meeting room after all the other judges leave. Jipyeong fingers a piece of his hair that’s come loose despite the pomade and waits.

“You look fluffier. Fatter.” Of course Alex’s first words are about his weight.

“I started eating rice again. I hated low-carb.”

“Rice or tteokbokki?” Alex smiles. “Anyway, it’s not a bad change. Let’s go to Gotgan. I have a reservation for 7pm.”

“You made a reservation for two?” Alex has always been overly confident, but that’s his charm.

“If you say no, I’ll ask Dongchun.”

Jipyeong considers him, looking almost exactly the way he did when Ms Yoon first introduced them 5 years ago. She’s always been able to look right into him and see what he wanted. As much as he respects her, he’s never wanted to tell her that her matchmaking attempt worked. Nothing he does today will have the tiniest effect on the future. All that’s in the past. All that’s waiting for him are Yeongsil and his big silent bed. So he gathers his notes into his satchel and fishes out the keys.

“Let’s take my car.”

“Let’s take the subway. It’s not far and we’ll probably get drunk.”

They stay sober. While getting drunk is fun, Jipyeong’s most regrettable moments (bar one that has surfaced intermittently for the last fifteen years) have all occurred when he was intoxicated (crying at a class KTV when Mrs Choi’s favourite song came on, dancing to Wonder Girls in front of a girlfriend’s parents). Staying sober is for the best.

Alex makes some noises about heading back to his hotel room. They both know he doesn’t mean it.

“I want to show you my new place,” Jipyeong says when they’re halfway there. He’s forgotten how private the sidewalks can be at night, cars on one side, the river on the other, blanketed in the dark. “It’s bigger than the one I had before I went to America.” Waves of headlights wash over them, illuminating Alex’s face before dipping them back into darkness. Everyone is rushing somewhere that only they think is important.

“I’d be surprised if apartments could be any smaller.”

“They’re always getting smaller.” Jipyeong jostles against him to avoid a woman on a bicycle. Alex puts his arm around him and doesn’t let go. In San Francisco this is what couples do. In Seoul they’re just old friends. Skinship, being a mentor, being a sunbae--these are all great excuses for what Jipyeong really wants to do. Even through two shirts and a lined blazer his body wants Alex’s body.

They walk in silence though the lobby, past the doorman whose chief qualification is knowing when not to look and float skywards in the lift.

“We have to take our shoes off, I just want you to know. You can leave them over there. Yeongsil, lights please.” The lights flicker on, Yeongsil is clearly having a good day.

“You know, I don’t let people wear shoes in my house either… That’s not Alexa.”

“It’s Yeongsil, it’s an AI speaker. It’s one of Ms Yoon’s more promising startups. It’s… more interesting than Alexa.” Jipyeong says, taking off his jacket and leaving it on the table. “It told me you were coming last week.”

“No, no, I told you that I was coming.”

“Yeah, but before I got your email. He tells fortunes too and he told me someone from my past was coming.”

“Everyday you meet someone from your past. And you shouldn’t let it listen to everything you do. It’s going to get hacked.”

“Astrology is in, everyone is going to love that feature,” Jipyeong shrugs. “Nothing I do here is worth any money, they can just hack my bank accounts.”

“You’re not paranoid enough for someone who works in tech.” Alex says, as he almost fondles Yeongsil.

“I’m actually trying to reduce my paranoia.” Jipyeong takes Yeongsil from Alex and stuffs him under the jacket. “Does that make you feel better?”

“No.” Alex continues to touch the other things in his apartment without permission. “Is every photo here of yourself? I know you don’t have family photos but that’s so vain. You should’ve kept some of the gang at 2STO or at least something to remind you of me.”

“The internet is filled with pictures of you. Anyway I still have the Grandpa Rudin you lent me, it’s more useful.”

“Did you really finish it?”

“I just wanted to know why everyone complains about it.”

“Well, now you know I guess. If you liked it don’t tell me.” Alex has moved on to the cardboard sign that proclaims Jipyeong the 2001 winner of the Inter High Schools Investment Competition brushing a finger over the scratch mark Tim Tam made on it before Jipyeong decided it would be safer in his closet. “I like the lamps. Are you into art now?”

“The seller had it staged, I just decided to buy it the way it was. I think it looks very cohesive.”

“So that’s why it looks like no one lives here. It’s like you don’t have any stuff.”

“No, I have the plants and I keep the EXO and Apink merch in the walk-in closet, it’s too personal to have it out here.”

“Red Velvet is better. I wish it weren’t so bloody creepy to be an uncle fan.”

Alex is still the only man with whom he can talk about Eunji and Kyungsoo and not feel dirty. He’s stumbled upon Dongchun’s Twitter (which is, in his own defense, a fascinating read) and knows too much about his deep love for TWICE. There is something a little unsettling about ajusshi fans, even if he is one himself.

“I think there’s something more interesting we can do here.” he takes the sign and puts it back on the top shelf. “I haven’t been laid in 6 months. I’m going to burst.”

“Couldn’t you have picked someone up at a nightclub?” Alex is smiling in such a familiar way; they both know this old dance.

“They’re full of university students.” Jipyeong says while helping Alex out of his jacket, which surprisingly, is only GAP. “You smell like metal.”

“It’s Sartorial, remember? From Penhaligon’s? It’s got that magnesium note.”

“You still haven’t finished it?” Jipyeong bought it as a gift while in London for him. It was so long ago, almost like a dream. He’s had dreams, whenever he’s been alone for too long, of undressing another person, but he can never remember what happens afterwards. The dream-person’s shirt has no smell, no trace of sweat. He slips Alex’s shirt off his shoulders. No undershirt as expected.

“Nope. I bought another bottle. It’s different from all the other man-perfumes. It doesn’t just smell like tonka bean.” He slips a finger over Jipyeong’s mouth, smearing his summer lip balm before dipping inside and scratching his gums lightly with a fingernail. “Your mouth is as lovely as you are horrible. Have you learned anything since we split up?”

“Test me,” Jipyeong says.

The only light in the bedroom is light pollution from the city below. It’s still more than enough to see by, despite the fact that Jipyeong’s night vision has gone to shit from more than a decade spent staring at a computer screen.

[this part not written yet]

He dozes off without meaning to and wakes up to the sound of engines. Alex is playing F1. He must have gone through his closet and found the playstation Jipyeong has been trying and failing to quit.

“You’ve got some very impressive beard burn on your jaw. ” Alex says as he overtakes Rosberg. He’s chosen the Singapore circuit. Onscreen the city is cloaked in darkness, the only thing that exists is a winding silver road and cars driving nowhere at 300 miles an hour.

He leans over and takes the controller from Alex, crashing into a Ferrari before spinning out into the barriers. “Are you bragging?”

“No, I’m just being honest.”

It’s a strange mirror of their early days when he would wake up to Alex on a coding binge, the clacking of the keyboard starting and stopping with his thoughts, the weak light of his laptop throwing huge shadows on the wall.

Jipyeong rolls forward on his belly; he wants to see Alex properly. “What do you like about Samsan Tech?”

“I like their engineering. Dosan’s incredibly talented. Their CODA algorithm builds on existing knowledge, and is an improvement on it.”

“And that’s your professional opinion?”

“What else would it be based on?” Alex fixes him with a look.

“Well. People say that you can’t be emotional as an investor. But how can it not be emotional?”

“Jipyeong. I’m excited in the way that I am when I see something beautiful. I wish you could see it too. I still can’t believe you’ve gotten so old without learning to read code.”

“I can code.”

“I don’t mean using OCaml to code a model.”

“There’s only so many hours in a day.” He rolls over and watches the dead light from the screen play across the ceiling. “I can always ask an expert.”

“I’m going back to America after Demo Day, you know. As fun as it would be to stay here and pretend we don’t know each other I have a job I have to get back to.”

“I meant other experts.”

“There are none like me.”

“Well. Talking to you is more fun.” He tangles his fingers with Alex.

“You’re not still posting loss porn on Wallstreetbets are you?”

“I just did. Lost fifty thousand on Apple puts.”

“You’re going to end up living in a corndog stand again.”

“Actually, I won’t. I didn’t tell you yet but I found her last month. She’s in a food truck now. So there’s nowhere I would go.”

“Can I meet her?” Alex perks up. He’s always loved a good story. “I want to know what you were like as a kid.”

#fic

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gaslampsglow · 7 years

Note

(For the playlist ask) playlist: midnight moon riutal

The crowd is still milling aimlessly, chattering and finding their seats, silk gloves and polished shoes rustling over the slightly soiled velvet rails. The lights dim, dip. They move faster, scurrying to find A15 and D9, or whether box 2 is the right or left side, and is that stage left or audience left? The lights blink twice again, then go out, rather faster than anticipated. Whispers dart across the theatre before burying themselves in the shadows of the footlights.

A trapdoor just in front of the curtain slams open. Slams hard enough to feel it in the fourth row. The crowd is silent now, eyes locked on the golden square of light. There is a long, lingering moment where nothing happens, the kind that stretches onward, ad infinitum, like waiting for the dentist to finish picking at that one particular spot on your gumline.

Cigar smoke belches out of the trapdoor, followed by the crown of a bowler hat. This followed by the brim of the hat, followed by a face that never looked young but probably looked handsome for ten minutes in 1949. The man waggles his eyebrows at the audience before putting the stub of his cigar out on the stage, then laborious hauls himself the rest of the way up through the trapdoor. He is short, wrinkled, and filthy. He pulls another cigar out from an undershirt that may have been white at some point. He lights the cigar and kicks the trapdoor closed.

“So. Here we all are.” His voice is a belt sander going to town on the sistine chapel. “You all look nice. Really, really...nice. You, yes, you ma’am, in the blue dress, in the second row. You look lovely. You really do. I know your mom passed away last week, you’re doing a really good job of holding it together. Its ok, take a load off, relax. Have a good time tonight, ok?”

He scans the audience for a response. You could hear a pin drop, or at least, you could hear the woman in the second row start to sniffle and hold her breath.

“Tough crowd. Ok, ok. Not every night this goes over well. It plays better in Cleveland.”

He whistles a long, high note, and the curtain finally rises.

The stage is set like a classic fairground, the kind that gave Bradbury the willies, but all the lights are out. In the center of the stage is a massive carousel, and its no prop. There’s no telling how the crew managed to assemble it on the stage, but its the genuine article, with chipped paint and worn steps, and dead-eyed wooden animals of every stripe and spot.

How did the man get to the top of the carousel? There must be a ladder around the back. He pops open a breaker box built onto the roof of the carousel, and turns to give the audience one last piece of advice.

“I mean it, people, enjoy yourselves. Go on, grab the brass ring. Get your second ride free. We all pay for the first time.”

He throws the breaker switch, and the stage comes to life. The sign over the midway is a blinding neon MOONLIGHT GARDENS in green and blue and pink. The lights scream and buzz, and the smell of stale popcorn and cotton candy and hot dogs is in the air, and the theatre is a memory. Wind peels across the fairground, the pennants rippling from the top of the ferris wheel (wait, how did they get a ferris wheel on the stage? A carousel is already crazy, but this?)

And then at last it begins to spin, and the bellows in the organ at the heart of the carousel shudder and pump, and the flywheel sounds like a bicycle race, and the airpipes start to keen and then-

OVERTURE: MOONLIGHT GARDENS (1)

ACT ONE: In which a celebration is made, a promise is given and a love is spurned.

A community of worshippers gathers from far and wide in anticipation of a lunar eclipse, there to give offerings and make merry. Among the celebrants are JANET, a beautiful young woman of strong will and much talent with magic, and her father, ORSINO, The Minister of the Midway, leader of their rites. Orsino opens the festivities with a paean to community and tradition (2). Orsino’s current partner and confidante is MADAME DELPHI, an oracle who may only speak her prophecy in riddles and allegory. She is concerned that this festival is predestined to be disastrous, and vents her frustrations with the other fortune-tellers of the community (3). Orsino’s position as chief mage of the order was secured years ago, when he bound THE DEVIL himself in mortal form, sealing satan from his powers. The price to seal the devil was the willing sacrifice of Orsino’s wife, Janet’s mother. As a result, he feels he has a tenuous grip on his soul (4).

Janet, meanwhile, feels that her father has been too overbearing in raising her, and that as a young woman she should be free to explore her desires, particularly those of a sexual nature (5). Also attending is the STRANGER, a handsome young man with a silver tongue and golden eyes, who Janet sees as a worthy prize (6). Janet and The Stranger meet during the preparations for the evening, and immediately feel a connection. The stranger attempts to impress her with his bad boy image, which she finds hilarious (7).

BARNABUS, another celebrant, is a man who covets Janet, but believes he can win her heart by magic. He struggles with his inner demons, particularly a sense of guilt for abandoning the church after the death of his abusive father (8). As sun sets on the night of the eclipse, Janet and the Stranger are overcome by each other in the hall of mirrors, while Barnabus watches from the shadows. The Stranger expects Janet to be a naive and innocent conquest, but she easily has the upper hand (9).

The rites of the eclipse begin (10), meanwhile Barnabus tricks the Stranger into separating from the group and kills him (11). He offers the stranger’s soul in exchange for Janet’s love (12). The spell goes awry, however, and the moon fails to return (13).

ENTR’ACTE: CALLIOPE (14)

ACT TWO: In which bodies are sundered but hearts are not.

The narrator ponders the larger questions of life, setting the scene for our return to the carnival (15). Barnabus gloats to Janet, presuming that his spell was successful, only to find that it has not taken effect (16). Madame Delphi announces that a presence is coming, and that the carnival has been removed from time (17). The Devil begins to manifest around the carnival, revealing himself to have been The Stranger. He is only able to appear momentarily while he gathers strength, but swears that before the night is out he will take Barnabas’s soul (18).

Janet, in shock, takes time to consider that her lover is The Devil (19). The Devil manifests before her, and they both sadly acknowledge that these stories do not end well (20).

Barnabus convinces himself that, in the end, he bears no blame. The Devil made him do it (21). Orsino, exhausted and demoralized, feeling that his wife’s sacrifice was in vain, rallies the revelers for a final showdown with the lord of darkness (22). Madame Delphi, however, declares that though the devil has lost his mortal form, he can do no harm, for the spell Orsino cast years ago bound him to Janet’s soul (23). The gathered revelers are at a loss and begin to argue as to the way forward, until Janet appeals to their shared sense of family and community (24).

Barnabus, fearing for his soul, believes that killing Janet will force Orsino to bind the devil away (25). Janet wakes in death to find herself in purgatory, with ROBIN GOODFELLOW, the narrator, as her guide. She has not gone to heaven or hell as the carnival is still out of step with time (26). Realizing that she must act quickly to save her love, she casts a spell to summon herself to him, pulling her soul out of purgatory and back to the carnival (27). Their souls both lacking mortal form, Janet and The Devil share their power, restore the carnival, obliterate Barnabus, and ride off into the Moonset (28).

The company, as Curtain Call, asks the question: what makes the soul of a man? (29)

The curtain swings closed. The hall is silent.

“Well, I know the bill said we were playing The Magic Flute, but I thought this was a little bit more fun.”

When the ushers opened the doors to let the audience out, only a humid evening breeze left the theatre.

Track Listing:

Danse Macabre, played on Fairground Organ

Cup of Wonder - Jethro Tull

After Midnight - Dorothy

Marked Man - Mieka Pauley

The Devil - PJ Harvey

The Heat - The Bones of JR Jones

Reynardine - Show of Hands

Old Time Religion - Parker Millsap

Hunting Girl - Jethro Tull

Dance In The Graveyards - Delta Rae

Death Is Not The End - Nick Cave and Friends

Shoot The Moon - Tom Waits

No Light, No Light - Florence + The Machine

Calliope - Tom Waits

Hows It Gonna End - Tom Waits

I Put A Spell On You - Screamin Jay Hawkins

Conman Coming - Monica Heldal

Lose Your Soul - Dead Man’s Bones

Devil’s Resting Place - Laura Marling

Demon Lover - Tim O’Brien

Beelzebub - Black Pistol Fire

Satan Your Kingdom Must Come Down - Robert Plant

Tam Lin - Fairport Convention

Come On Up To The House - Sarah Jarosz

New American Standard - Ford Theatre Reunion

Singapore - Tom Waits

Tell That Devil - Jill Andrews

Aint No Grave - Crooked Still

Soul Of A Man - Tom Waits

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